Mortal Temptations (20 page)

“I can see that.” Demitri sat up, his pristine suit a sharp contrast to Nico’s T-shirt and jeans. “I’ll help you look, Nico. We’ll find her.”

Nico wished he could be so confident. He stood looking out of the window over the Nile and the city beyond, so many houses and buildings and people, millions of them. Patricia was out there somewhere—maybe.

He loved her with every part of himself. Whether it was the curse or not, he didn’t care; he loved Patricia, and that was all there was to it. He loved the way she groaned when he pleasured her, how she’d laugh and bite the tips of his feathers.

He loved her riot of blond curls, the pucker she’d get in her forehead when puzzled about something, the aquamarine sparkle of her eyes. Even if she never returned his love, if it was only magic, he didn’t care. His love for her would never die.

“That bad?” Demitri stopped beside him, looking out over his adopted city.

Nico nodded grimly. “That bad.”

Demitri clasped Nico’s shoulder. He didn’t have to say anything; his friendship and support radiated from him.

The door of the suite banged open. Nico and Demitri whirled, poised to fight, then Nico stopped, heart beating in relief as Andreas slammed his way in.

He’d dressed in a ragged caftan he must have picked up along the way. His hair was sandy, his face creased with dirt.

“Where the hell is she?” he demanded of the two of them. “Where’s Becky?”

IT was dark where Patricia was, and she had the horrible feeling of aloneness. Not alone as she might be in her apartment above her store at night; there she was aware of the churning, teeming city around her, people above her and down in the street. Now she felt utterly alone, as though she’d been buried alive.

She hadn’t been. She could move and sit up and even stand, and there was air here, cool and fresh, as though the place was ventilated.

Patricia explored what she could, walking around with arms outstretched, and found that her prison was six paces by six. The ceiling was beyond her reach, even when she jumped.

When she stretched out her psychic senses, the walls began to glow and pulsate with the auras of people long past, hundreds and hundreds of them. She was someplace very old, but not a tomb, which would be quiet with the passing of ages.

This place had seen much activity, and the people here had been excited, bored, hopeful, worried, and happy. She could feel no powerful godlike aura, so she thought perhaps it hadn’t been a temple.

“Not that this is helpful,” Patricia muttered to herself. “I’ll still starve to death. Or perhaps die of thirst.”

Very cheerful.

She rose again and paced the confined space.
One, two, three, four, five, six . . . seven, eight?

Patricia stopped, confused. It had been six paces before, she’d sworn that.

“Now I’m losing my mind,” she said out loud. “This just gets better.”

No doubt about it, her prison was now eight paces by eight. Moving walls? Patricia pushed at the stone blocks, but they were solid. She banged on them once with her closed fists, then slid to the floor again.

She sat quietly, frustrated, but not in panic or despair. One thought came to her over and over again:
Nico will find me.

She knew this deep down inside. This was the test Hera and Bes had argued about: whether Nico and Patricia would love each other enough to find each other again. She knew the answer was yes.

She did hope that the test of her and Nico’s love wouldn’t be like some of the weird myths she’d read in which the beloved object was turned into a rock or tree or something, in order to make a point. She had mixed feelings about spending eternity as a symbol of true love.

“I’d rather have the reality,” she said, grinding her teeth. “Hurry up, Nico.”

“WE need Bes,” Nico concluded.

The other two had dragged him out to a coffeehouse in a back alley, feeding him potent Egyptian coffee. The streets were teeming as usual, men filling coffeehouses or strolling, enjoying the cool darkness. Two men shared a water pipe in one corner, and at any other time, Nico would have found the pungent scent of spiced tobacco and the slow bubbling of the pipe soothing.

He’d wanted to fly away and search every corner of the world for Patricia, but Demitri convinced him they had to do this logically.

“Bes knew the story on the wall,” Nico continued. “What this test was. What I’m supposed to do.”

Demitri turned to Andreas. The leopard-man had lost his habitual bitter look, his throat free of the gold chain he’d worn for millennia. But he was still angry and desperately worried about Rebecca.

“Andreas,” Demitri began. “If you spent all your time with Rebecca, you saw the inscription the most. You were with her when she finished her rough translation. Do you remember anything about it, especially at the end?”

Andreas ran thick fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t paying attention to the damn wall, if you know what I mean.”

Demitri nodded. “You, a woman—I know what you were paying attention to. But do you have anything, remember
anything
?”

“Nothing helpful,” he growled. “It was the sad story of Nico and me getting caught by Hera’s spell, and how we were eternally punished for our lust. After that it was stuff about how lust dwindled and love was stronger, how love could shine through where lust failed.”

“All right, that’s good.” Demitri tried to sound reassuring. “What does that mean to you?”

“That love is stronger and more important than lust,” Nico said. “Love has great power, where lust fades. I already knew that.”

Demitri agreed. “What I think it means is that if you truly love Patricia, not just want her, you’ll prevail.”

“That’s helpful,” Nico said in an ironic voice. “Wasn’t there anything on the wall that said,
Start looking here
?”

“No,” Andreas said glumly. “It didn’t say anything about whether Patricia and Rebecca would be together, either.” He sighed. “I have to find Rebecca. She doesn’t know how to handle goddesses. She’s too blunt. She’ll get herself killed.”

Demitri looked at them both and raised his brows. “I think you’ve both gone way beyond the lust part. Now it’s just legwork.”

Nico shook his head. “This is Hera we’re talking about. Nothing will be that easy.”

“I know. But I have some ideas and friends who might know things.”

“It’s good of you to help,” Nico said.

Demitri looked offended. “How long have we been friends?”

“Four thousand years. Give or take.”

“Exactly.” He clapped Nico on the shoulder. “I won’t leave you in the lurch when things get tough. I say we draw up a battle plan.”

NICO insisted that they try to summon Bes. In ancient Egypt, the god Bes had defended homes against evil spirits and other dangers like snakes and wild animals. He was a protector of hearth and home, a handy god to have around.

Modern-day Egypt had thoroughly embraced Islam, but statues of the old gods, copies of those found on archaeological digs, were plentiful. Demitri had one.

The statue was squat and square, Bes’s legs stubby. His face was almost lionlike, his horns two tiny bumps on his head.

“He looks better in person,” Andreas growled. “Barely.”

Demitri studied the statue as it reposed on the table in the middle of the suite’s living room. “If anyone hears I’ve been conjuring pagan gods in my best guest suite, I’ll be run out of business.”

“We’ll keep it down,” Andreas assured him.

He was as restless as Nico, pacing and growling all morning. His movements were jerky as they surrounded the statue with greenery and candles. Gods liked offerings, but Nico wasn’t sure what Bes would enjoy. Wine? Fruit?

“Coffee,” Andreas said. “Remember, he was so proud of his coffee machine.”

Nico decided it had as good a shot as anything, so Demitri sent for a tray of hot, fresh coffee with four cups. The waiter who brought it tried to look into the room to see what they were doing, but Demitri grabbed the tray and slammed the door.

“He probably thinks we’re having an orgy,” Demitri said as he set down the tray.

“An orgy with coffee?” Andreas asked.

“He has a vivid imagination.”

“I wonder what he’d think if we asked for some DVDs?”

Nico looked up irritably from where he was arranging the altar. “Can anyone who’s not still a slave please shut up?”

“Sorry,” Demitri said at once.

“Just relieving the tension,” Andreas added.

Nico finished and sat back on his heels, still wondering how to do this. He’d never actually conjured a god before, mostly wanting them to leave him the hell alone.

He started to chant in an ancient tongue that was not Greek or Egyptian but the language that had existed before those civilizations rose. It was a language of the gods, when they walked the earth, before leaving humankind to have contact with them only through worship, through rituals like these.

“God of hearth and home, I summon thee,” Nico said. “Proud god who faced down the queen of my pantheon, hear my plea.”

Nothing happened. Andreas moved restlessly. “Where is he? It’s not working.”

“Shh,” Demitri admonished. “Let Nico finish.”

Nico tried to block out their words and focus on the statue. Bes looked back at him blankly, the stone remaining immobile.

“Maybe he’s not positioned right.” Andreas grabbed the little god and turned him to face the window. As he lifted his hand away, he knocked against the small cup of coffee, which overturned an spattered all over Bes.

“Damn it,” Nico muttered.

Swearing, Andreas reached for a towel, but Demitri stopped him. “Wait.”

As the coffee dripped from the statue, the stone flushed with warmth. Life trickled into it, inch by inch, until at last a tiny figure stood amid the garlands. The three men leaned forward to look at him.

“No, no, no,” the small Bes said, waving his arms. “I can’t give hints. It’s against the rules.”

“I don’t give a damn about your hints or your rules,” Nico said. “Where’s Patricia?”

“I can’t tell you. If I do, I’ll void the test.”

“Screw the test. I’ll be a slave for eternity if Hera releases her. I don’t care. I just want her to be all right.”

“That isn’t the answer,” Bes said.

“I told you, I don’t care . . .”

“Staying a slave isn’t the solution to the test,” Bes said. “You have to find it on your own.”

Nico clenched his hands. “What is the test? What did the wall painting say?”

Bes looked pained. “I can’t tell you.”

Andreas leaned forward and poked the little god. “Listen, you. I’ve had enough of games with gods and goddesses. Give back our ladies and stay the hell out of our lives.”

Bes’s expression turned mournful. “I can’t. I wish I could help you. I have no desire to see Patricia hurt.”

Nico’s heart felt like lead. “Are you saying that if I don’t pass the test, Patricia
will
be hurt?”

“Yes, unfortunately. I can make things better for her if you do the right things, but if not . . .” He trailed off with a gesture of helplessness.

“What about Rebecca?” Andreas interrupted. “She’s not part of Nico’s test, is she? Where is Rebecca?”

Bes jumped back a foot, nearly tripping over the garlands. “She’s safe. She’s safe, I swear it. In Greece.”

“Greece?” Andreas stood up. “What the hell is she doing in Greece?”

“She’s in the land of Odysseus and Penelope,” Bes said, perplexed. “In Ithaca.”

Andreas let out a long growl, his claws emerging. “Not Greece, you little stone idiot. New York. She works at Cornell—in
New York
.”

“Oh,” Bes said. “I just heard Ithaca. I hope I sent her to the right one.”

“You’d damn well better have sent her to the right one.” Andreas reached down and grabbed Bes in his big fist.

The little god shuddered and froze into hard stone. Andreas started and dropped the statue, which shattered on the tile floor into three large pieces.

“Damn it,” Andreas said. “Nico, I’m sorry.”

Nico shrugged, his heart aching. “It doesn’t matter. He wasn’t going to give us much more than that.”

Demitri retrieved his broken statue and tried to fit the pieces together. “What did he mean, he could make things better for Patricia if you did the right things?”

“Who knows? I don’t know what the right thing is.” Nico stared at the tangled garlands and spilled coffee, the statue Demitri was trying to repair. “I have to find her.”

“What’s the phone number for Cornell?” Andreas broke in.

Nico looked up. “I don’t know. Patricia’s cell phone is in her room. She might have it from when she first called Rebecca.”

Andreas was out of the room before Nico had finished speaking.

Nico rose to pace. His back itched, his wings wanting to break free of their confinement. He wanted to soar over the city, blast open every building with his half-god magic, and find Patricia.

He couldn’t; he knew that. He sensed that if he resorted to brute force, he’d never see her again, or he’d kill her in the process.

Where could they hide her that a normal search wouldn’t find her? A living woman couldn’t be taken to Hades and survive, the legend of Persephone notwithstanding. He’d met Persephone, and he had no doubt she had the god of the underworld wrapped around her little finger.

It had to be somewhere magical, mysterious, but someplace she could exist and he could find. That let out any of the god realms; she must still be on the tangible earth.

I’ll find you, Patricia,
he thought, hoping that somehow she could hear him.
I love you. I’ll find you and break this test and prove my love is real.

He pictured her standing in front of him, her riot of blond curls snaking over her shoulders, her smile, her laughter. He lifted his hand as though to touch her hair, his heart breaking when his fingers brushed only empty air.

THE room had definitely gotten bigger. Patricia could walk twelve paces each way now, and on her next circuit, her foot bumped something hard.

Wincing, she leaned down to see what it was and found a square shape that felt smooth and cool, like tile. She also felt droplets of water, and reaching forward, she encountered the unmistakable silken feel of water.

Her heart lurched, her parched throat pinching. She hesitated, fearful of drinking water that hadn’t been purified, but her dry mouth urged her to at least taste it.

She scooped some in her hands and let droplets dribble across her tongue. They tasted as clear and pure as the best bottled water.

Well water? If she was out in the middle of nowhere, well water might be all right to drink. It was cold and good, and she couldn’t resist scooping more into her mouth.

“Now, if I could just have a sandwich to go with it,” she said hopefully.

She waited, but no smell of roast beef and mustard assailed her, and she sighed. “Oh, well, it was worth a try.”

Patricia started to walk back to her corner, then had the sudden fearful thought that the basin might vanish if she turned her back on it. She whirled around and banged her foot on it again.

She scooped more water into her mouth, then found a dry place to sit next to it. She hung her fingers into the water, its touch comforting.

“Come on, Nico. You’re supposed to find me. I know you are.”

She wished for the hundredth time that her psychic ability included projecting her thoughts to others. Even if she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could feel nothing more than the auras of this room, nothing outside of it.

“Nico, if you can hear me . . .”

She sighed. She knew Nico couldn’t, and she could not hear him, as much as she projected.

“They could have left me a cell phone,” she muttered. “But, oh, no.”

Not that it would have worked in this thick-walled building out in the middle of nowhere. Cell phones were only as good as their ability to pick up a signal.

Patricia sighed, hoping that whoever found her phone put it to good use.

“I’M in Egypt; where do you think I am?” Andreas yelled into Patricia’s phone. At the other end, Rebecca’s shrill, tinny voice came back to him.

Andreas’s heart beat thick and hard. Rebecca’s number at Cornell had indeed been stored on Patricia’s phone’s recent call list, and one touch had it ringing far off in New York. Rebecca’s breathless “Hello” reached him after the second ring.

She was safe. She was all right. Hera hadn’t killed her.

“How should I know where you are?” Rebecca said back to him. Her voice sounded shaky, like she’d been crying. “You magicked yourself out of the tomb, leaving the rest of us stranded.”

“No, I didn’t, sweetheart. I’d never leave you stranded.”

Rebecca huffed. “I saw you.”

“I had to get out before she could think of some way to trap me again. I knew that was the only way I could help Nico. When I came back for you, everyone was gone. I thought Hera had done something with you. Nico and Demitri didn’t know where you were.”

“I blacked out and woke up here, in my office, with my clothes all dirty from the tomb. The department chair walked in thirty seconds later.”

Andreas imagined it, Rebecca filthy from the rain of rubble and wall painting, tears tracking through the dust on her face.

“And do you know what?” Rebecca’s laugh sounded strained. “He didn’t even notice anything was wrong. He just asked me how my research trip to Cairo had been.” She kept laughing, hysteria edging her voice.

“It’s all right, Becky,” Andreas said. “You’ll be safe enough there. Go back to the B and B and tell the cats we’ll be coming soon.”

“What about Nico and Patricia? Are they all right?”

Andreas hesitated, not sure what to tell her.

“What is it?” she squeaked as his hesitation went on too long. “What happened to Patricia and Nico?”

Andreas told her. He clenched the phone, not liking to hear her cries of dismay. He hated being half the world away from her.

“Damn it,” Rebecca said. “I’m coming out there.”

“No, you bloody well are not. You’re safe there. The Dyons will stop tracking you now.”

“Screw that. I have my passport, and my visa’s still good for another three weeks. I can get a British Airways out of JFK and change in London. What else am I going to spend my postdoc stipend on?”

“Becky, no.”

“Stop calling me Becky like it means something. You aren’t under the curse anymore.”

“I know that,” he shouted. “Don’t you get it?”

“I’m coming out there,” she said firmly and hung up.

Andreas slapped the phone closed and stalked out to the living room.

Demitri watched him with an amused look on his face. “Trouble with the little woman?”

Andreas had the sudden urge to go to the man and jerk his tie crooked. Demitri always had to look perfect. “I thought once the curse was gone, I wouldn’t care what she thought of me. But I do. Damn it.”

“I think Nico is having the same problem. What he’s feeling is more than just the curse.”

They both looked at Nico, who had spread maps all over the table, marking places to look. Andreas’s heart burned for him. Andreas at least had the satisfaction of knowing Rebecca was all right, even if the headstrong woman wasn’t about to stay quietly safe at home. Nico was hurting.

Andreas sat down next to him, looking over the places Nico had marked: the pyramids at Giza and the ones farther south at Dashur, the valley of Amarna, the remote areas of the Valley of Kings.

“Why these?” he asked.

Nico looked up, a fanatic light in his dark eyes. “They’re places god magic would have built up over the centuries. If Hera wanted to confine Patricia magically, these would be good. I can’t imagine Patricia staying long in a place that wasn’t magical. She’s resourceful and would figure a way out.”

He spoke proudly, and at the same time, his face was stark with grief and worry.

“There are magical places like this all over the world,” Demitri said, his voice gentle. “Stone circles in England, the Mayan temples, caves in India.”

“I know.” Nico looked up with a frown. “But we have to start somewhere.”

“Good point,” Demitri said, trying to sound cheerful.

Andreas shook his head at Demitri, and rested his hand lightly on Nico’s shoulder. “We’ll find her,” he said. “Demitri and I will do everything we can. Promise.”

LATER that night, Andreas found Nico out on the balcony, looking over the Nile. The river was a black streak in the city of light and noise, the boats on it strings of brightness.