Medusa's Dagger (Aya Harris Collection 1)

“What a dump.” Gideon got out of his side of the cab. “They need to tear down this whole neighborhood.”

I ask the cabbie to wait for us before getting out of my side. As soon as I slammed my door, he dialed the show tunes radio station up a few notches to blare Defying Gravity.

I gave him a fake glare and looked up at the house again. “No way, this house just needs some tender loving care. It’s beautiful. You just can’t see it yet.”

“Hmmm…” he raised an eyebrow at me. He didn’t believe me.

“Just wait and check out all the character on the inside. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

We climbed the gigantic wrap-around porch and approached the front door. There was no doorbell, so Gideon knocked on the thick wooden door. As soon as he knocked, something inside crashed to the floor. There was a mad scramble of objects being shifted around, and then the door cracked open a foot.

“Yes?” A tall thin man stuck his nose out the crack at us. His voice was quiet and nasally. “What do you want?”

“Hi. My name is Aya Harris. Mr. Jones sent me to pick up his package.”

The man looked at me, his thin lips twisting into a dissatisfied frown. He blinked twice, then pulled his head back and slammed the door shut. I looked at Gideon, unsure what to do. Mr. Jones had sent me to some strange places in the past, but this was unusual. Most people wanted to get rid of their supernatural items as soon as possible.

“So… what do you do now?” Gideon pulled at his tie and stared at the closed door.

I felt myself chewing on my thumb nail and quickly dropped my hand. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake. I’ll try again.”

I knocked on the door. There was another scuffle inside, then the door opened to the thin man’s face.

“Yes? Who are you?”

“Um… I’m Aya Harris. I just came to get the…” I looked down at the crumbled note in my hand, “the taxidermy monkey. Mr. Jones purchased it from a Mrs. Ethel DeFleur.”

The door slammed shut again, but this time the sound of a chain lock being undone gave me hope. It was swung open and the thin man stepped aside for us to enter.

“Mrs. DeFleur was my mother,” he said. “I am Henry and the proprietor of her will. Follow me.”

He left us standing at the door, the intense smell of moth balls and old women’s perfume wafting out. Just inside the door, were stacks upon stacks of cardboard boxes and old newspapers. There was hardly a place left to walk on.

I widened my eyes at Gideon. This was the kind of place where you’d expect to get kidnapped by some sicko. They wouldn’t find your body until fifty years later, when somebody renovated the house and discovered your dried bones in the wall.

Gideon grinned at me, mischief in his eyes. He shrugged and stepped back. “Ladies first.”

I groaned and then led the way into the house. So much for the benefit of having an armed SI agent escorting me.

We followed Henry deep into the piles of boxes and past the grand old wooden staircase into a dark hallway. Everywhere I looked, there was crown molding and detailed wooden trim. I pointed them out silently to Gideon, taking in the beauty of the home. He just rolled his eyes and laughed at me. We turned the corner of the hallway where I narrowly avoided running into a teetering pile of boxes and causing an avalanche.

Henry led us into a small parlor. There was a dusty and thick blue shag carpet on the floors and matching blue wallpaper with flowers embossed in the surface. Even the chairs and tablecloths were a matching shade of blue.

Tiny tea cups with blue flowers sat on the table with tea still inside them. The lemon bread on a platter next to them had a thin layer of white furry mold. I had the sick feeling Mrs. DeFleur died suddenly, in this very room. It gave me the uncomfortable sensation that we were barging in on someone’s privacy.

“This is the item you procured.” Henry pointed to a small animal in the corner of the room on a shelf.

He stood there, staring at the wall, as I timidly moved forward to inspect the monkey.

It wasn’t much taller than a foot. Standing on an oval wooden pedestal, its tiny black hands were raised above its head, as if it died that way. I hated to say it, but the monkey had been poorly cared for over the years. Its fur was patchy in places and rubbed bare in others. The tiny amber glass eyes gave it an eerie look, like it was watching me. I didn’t want to touch the shriveled thing, but we had to get it back to the museum.

“What’s so supernatural about this thing?”

Gideon’s breath on the back of my neck startled me. I jumped backwards, hitting him with my shoulder. He grabbed both my arms and steadied me while I laughed nervously.

“Supposedly, a prince

was transformed into this monkey after he double-crossed a wicked old witch.” I leaned into Gideon, whispering as I did. “He’s supposed to awaken after two hundred years and reclaim his throne. But, I don’t think he’s going to find the modern world to his liking.”