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Authors: Evelyn Vaughn

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Her Kind of Trouble (14 page)

BOOK: Her Kind of Trouble
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She
meant Tala Rachid.

"You said that she was at the hotel to make sure we were okay," I reminded him. "That she meant to call the police if we didn't show up."

"But she did not call the police."

"From what she told us last night, I get the feeling they would dismiss any complaints from her as same song, new verse. You may not have noticed, but the police didn't even act that concerned when
we
filed a complaint, and
Egypt
has supposedly taken a hard line about protecting tourists."

Ever since that tourist massacre in the
Valley of the Kings
, which Lex had mentioned in his cheerful, "Visit Egypt,
Land
of
Danger
and Death" speech before I left.

"I did notice it," admitted Rhys, trying not to pay attention to some of the people on the trolley who took exception to our standing so near each other. Apparently my wearing a wedding ring didn't mean as much when he did not. "And you are right. It is strange."

"Not if they've already dismissed Tala and Jane as emotional, malcontent females who think they're above the law, and Hani as a rightfully indignant patriarch. Trying to smuggle Kara to safety didn't exactly help their reputation among the local authorities."

"Can you blame the women for it?" challenged Rhys.

I imagined what it would be like to have a child—and what it would be like if someone, even her father, stole her from me. What it would be like if even the law was against me.

Laws be damned. I'd defy death to get her back.

"No," I said tightly. "No, I don't blame them in the least. But I'm really
not
an expert on international custody. If I'm going to help them—"

"This is it," said Rhys, of the stop. It was easy to rec-ognize because the modern train depot stood across the street from an ancient Roman amphitheater that shone white in the sun, anachronistic amid the dusty cityscape. We got off the trolley and dodged traffic to the depot, despite the longing look Rhys cast toward the amphitheater. Only when we entered did he ask, "So you've decided to help them after all, have you?"

"I didn't decide." Since he had to stay and work—there was more to the reclamation project than diving—I gave him a quick farewell hug, whether or not people approved. "Hani Rachid decided for me."

If that man thought he could bully me into submission, he clearly did not know Grailkeepers.

Since I'd missed the most recent Turbotrain's departure, I had to take an express to
Cairo
. It felt good to be out and unchaperoned, reading up on
Isis
. After almost three hours, it deposited me back into the chaos of the afternoon city, just in time to hear the haunting, city-wide call to prayer, chanted by muezzins from minarets and broadcast from loudspeakers. Almost half the people around me immediately stopped, unrolled prayer rugs to face east, and began to pray, right there in the Ramses Station.

And to think they did this five times a day!

Somewhat chagrined by their devotion, I felt guilty for heading out—but I had my own strange brand of religion to pursue.

Helping Tala with Kara, so that she would help me find the Isis Grail.

I visited not just the British but the American Embassies, trying to find even a hint of hopeful news for Jane. It wasn't to be had. Overseas custody disputes were ap-parently a larger problem than I'd known—and it wasn't just in the Middle East but Mexico, Austria, Germany, even Sweden. Jane wasn't the first person to find herself in this situation, I was told, and she would not be the last.

"That's just how it goes," said one clerk, supremely unhelpful. "Shouldn't the family resolve this?"

But how was a family supposed to resolve anything, when only half had all the power?

Was this why I'd avoided marriage for so long? I got back to the Ramses Railway Station in time to catch one of the sleek, red-and-black striped Turbotrains, which cut my ride by almost an hour. That was still plenty of time to slide Lex's wedding ring off my finger and squint wearily at the inscription.

Virescit vulnere virtus

I should ask Rhys. He obviously knew Latin. But in the meantime, I put the ring back on.

By the time I arrived back in
Alexandria
—or Alex, as I was already learning to call the city—the evening sun had begun to sink toward the West.

And I was frustrated.

I might be a Grailkeeper. I might even be some kind of champion, though I very much doubted that. But as much as I wanted to help Tala, Jane and Kara, I just didn't have that kind of power.

And I
did
want to help them, more deeply than I'd allowed myself to recognize until Hani's treachery gave me moral permission. It was true that this was a whole different culture with different values. But damn it, the country from which Hani had kidnapped Kara was not.

This
, I decided as I dragged up the stairs to the room I shared with Catrina, was the reason the world needed more goddess grails. Not to conquer men. Just to help restore balance.

Then I noticed that the door to my room hung open. All philosophical musing stopped.

But my step only slowed.

They'd come
back
?

This time, I had my unnamed sword with me, hanging from one hip under my skirts. Luckily there was nobody in the hallway, not that it would have stopped me. I gathered my skirts up far enough to slide the weapon slowly, silently out of its scabbard.

Sure, I could have gone for help. But for one thing, I didn't know for certain that there was anything wrong. Why risk crying wolf?

For another—what was the fun in that?

If Hani Rachid wanted trouble, I was in the mood to give it to him.

Stepping with the silent stealth garnered from years of tai chi practice, I made my way to the door and listened.

Nothing.

I drew a slow, deep breath. One.

Two.

Three! I rolled around the doorjamb and into the room in a move similar to that of a friend of mine, a cop in
Connecticut
. But I had no intention of pointing the sword and shouting, "
Freeze
!"

Just as well.

I felt silly enough when Lex Stuart looked up from where he was lounging comfortably on my bed, reading Catrina's paperback, and said, "I hear there's a good restaurant for fish on the Corniche."

Chapter 9

 

Some piece of my heart brightened at the sight of him, the reality of him right here. That piece of my heart wouldn't have objected if I'd done a swan dive on top of both him and the rickety bed. Hell, we had a past with rickety beds.
Lex
!

He was sexy familiarity amid a day of frustrating foreignness. And yet, despite that sense of homecoming…

Another part of me clearly remembered telling him not to come. "What are you doing here?"

"Reading a racy French novel," he admitted, closing the book and sitting up to lay it onto the stand beside him. I recognized Cat's book from the cigarette burn. "That, and worrying about you."

"Well, you shouldn't."

"It wasn't your novel? Damn."

"Shouldn't worry."

"Oh. Well, that makes everything easier," said Lex, sarcasm clearly intended. Worry makes him cranky. "I'll stop, then. Just like that. So when did you become a witch, and why are you trying to steal Hani Rachid's daughter?"

"
You called him again ?"
My voice actually cracked.

"He called me this time. He wanted to tell me to do a better job at 'controlling my woman.'" Lex lifted a hand to ward off my reaction. "His words, Mag, not mine."

"And how did he get the impression that I was your woman?" And why was I still standing in the doorway? I came into the room—but I sat on Catrina's bed, facing him. Like he was dangerous or something.

Hadn't we gotten past that notion? Then again, I'd seen this man in action. He was dangerous. He just wasn't supposed to be dangerous to me.

"It might've had something to do with my reaction when he answered your phone that first time," Lex confessed, eyeing the sword I laid beside me on the chenille bedspread. He'd had bad luck with bladed weapons lately.

"I can't believe you even spoke to him!"

"I had to know how he got your mobile—"

"The second time," I interrupted. "When he called you back to complain. Why didn't you just hang up?"

"Would you?"

He had me there. "Did you at least tell him that I
wasn't
your woman and
nobody
could control me?"

"And ruin the hail-fellow-well-met mood that kept him talking? Not likely." Lex studied my expression, his own guarded. "Not to mention, I like him underestimating me. Just think of me as a double agent."

Unfortunately, I'd already been thinking of him that way for a couple of months now. It wasn't the most stable ground on which to build our relationship.

He leaned forward. "Maggi, I had business in the city—important business like you can't imagine—but I dropped it
For you
. I got here in under twenty-four hours, which wasn't easy, all because I was worried about you, and you're sitting over there looking at me as if
I'm
still the bad guy. Can't we put a moratorium on arguing at least until after dinner?"

Over there
was all of three feet away. In fact, our feet were framing each other's on the floor between us.

"You did it for you," I insisted, fully aware of how childish I sounded and resenting being made to feel that way. "I asked you not to come, and you came anyway."

"Maybe nobody can control me, either." His words came out a lot more seriously than I thought he meant them to. But he had a point there, as well. Which was no reason I should drop my own plans—

Except that I didn't have plans, at least not for dinner. And I
was
hungry. When he silently extended a hand, his golden eyes pleading, I abandoned my righteous indignation for the time being and reached for it.

BOOK: Her Kind of Trouble
3.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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