Shadow Ritual Read Online Free PDF

Marek examined the word frequencies one after the other. They supported the dating. Except for a single word—a word that didn’t exist in the database.
    First the cross, then the unknown term.
    The phone rang, pulling Marek back to the here and now. As he reached for the receiver, he looked at his watch. It was ten thirty.
    “Oh, professor.” The caller’s accent was melodious. “What luck. I tried to reach you at home first. Happiness to the man who works late!”
    “Perillian, if you’re calling in the middle of the night for my conclusions—”
    “Oh no, professor, that’s not it. There’s been a miracle. A real miracle. Someone has just brought me another fragment of the same stone.”
    “You must be joking.”
    “No, professor. It is from the same source. The family brought it over this very evening.”
    “Perillian, you realize that such a discovery could have a significant bearing on my current analysis.”
    “I’m all too aware of that, professor. I don’t want to keep such a treasure from you.”
    “When will you bring it over?”
    “Right away. I’ll send over a servant. I can’t just leave the family who brought it like that, etiquette and all. You can trust the man I’m sending. His name is Bashir. Can you make sure he doesn’t get caught up at the roadblocks?”
    “Don’t worry about that. Fax me his papers, and I’ll inform the ministry right away.”
    “Thank you, professor. You’ll see. It’s one of a kind, really.”
    Marek ended the call and turned to the computer screen.
    ~ ~ ~
    Perillian smiled at Bashir. “You see—”
    He didn’t have time to finish his sentence. Bashir, a gun with a silencer in hand, stood over the businessman as he crumpled to the floor. He had aimed for the spleen, granting the man a merciful death—painful, yes, but quick. He had surprised himself with this act of kindness. He usually preferred to watch the life drain from his victims slowly, not so much out of sadism as from curiosity. The life force was there, and then it wasn’t. Every time, death was unique, but in many ways it was the same, whether the man was a Jew, a Muslim, or a Christian.
    Bashir slipped out of the Armenian’s room. His two bodyguards followed without a word, and they got into a car with fake plates. He gave the address of the institute and exchanged his suit for a djellaba. A Jew awaited him tonight. Bashir would see a life extinguish again. And the man would not get the favor he had extended to Perillian. This time he would adhere to a precise ritual.

5
    Sophie Dawes scurried across the large room, stumbling more than once because only the outside lights illuminated the space. She gasped each time she hit something. Fear constricted her blood vessels.
    The library entrance was just over there. Maybe, just maybe she could escape. She turned the handle, using all her strength. In vain. The elaborately carved wooden door remained shut. Exhausted from her sprint, Sophie collapsed on the floor.
    She heard soft footsteps coming toward her. The person was moving along the fresco-covered wall. Sophie could hear the din of the party in the ground-floor reception room. She took a deep breath and crept toward a window.
    “It’s no use.” The voice was firm, definitive.
    Paralyzed by fear, Sophie looked up slowly. In front of her stood a young blonde woman wearing a strange smile. She was holding a telescopic baton with a metal tip.
    The voice rang out again. “Where are the documents?”
    “What documents? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, let me go,” Sophie pleaded.
    “Don’t act stupid,” the woman said, using her baton to slowly lift Sophie’s skirt. “What you found is none of your business. You are just an archivist. I only need to know where the papers are.”
    A wave of panic ran through Sophie. She felt stripped naked.
    “You were hired as an archivist a year ago, right after your thesis at the Sorbonne. That was quite a presentation you