Shadow of the Sheikh (10 page)

N
ephtys was not terribly surprised when Shahin returned to Khepesh in a rage several hours after he'd left and reported that Josslyn Haliday had taken flight before he could capture her. He was a seething mass of anger, blaming it on the sister he'd taken to his camp. She, apparently, had found a way to warn Josslyn what was about to befall her.

One thing you had to give the Haliday sisters: They were not stupid. Nor were they inclined to lie back passively and accept a fate they didn't agree with. Nephtys admired them for their bravery.

Despite its complete futility.

For in the end, they were as powerless to fight
their appointed destiny as she herself. The only question was, what that ultimate destiny would be. She wished she would have a vision that made it clear which sister was supposed to belong to Seth-Aziz. It would make certain decisions so much easier.

Seth and Shahin were gazing expectantly at her now, as if she had all the answers.

“You must find Josslyn,” she told Lord Shahin. There was no question of letting the last sister remain free, regardless of her final disposition. “We cannot take any chances. Our situation is too precarious at the moment. If we don't run her to ground, you can be sure Haru-Re will, once he gets wind of her.”

Seth paced slowly back and forth, following the line of columns rimming the wall of the audience chamber. He was visibly tired, his skin growing translucent, his beautiful body soft with fatigue. He needed blood, and soon.

“Where would she have gone?” he asked Shahin. “Will she try to get out of Egypt?”

“I doubt it,” the captain of the guard ground out. “I've been assured she won't leave her sisters behind, especially if she thinks they are in danger.”

Nephtys respected family loyalty, but it would not make Shahin's job any easier. “You must use all your powers on Gemma and find out where Josslyn could be hiding,” she urged.

Shahin glowered. “If Gemma knows, you can be sure I'll get it out of her.”

“Go, then,” Seth said. “Send word when you know something.”

“Likewise,” Shahin returned, and looked at Nephtys. “It would be very useful if you could call forth a vision to help locate the woman.”

She nodded and lied. “I shall try.”

Not a chance.
She would not seek a vision if there was any possibility that Haru-Re would appear in it again. Which he would. The man was proving viciously relentless.

But the sheikh didn't know that. With a graceful bow to her brother, he strode out of the chamber, a determined scowl firmly in place. Nephtys felt briefly sorry for his captive. Whatever bliss Gemma Haliday had experienced in his bed last night was about to be shattered by her lover's wrath. Obviously, there was no way the unlucky woman could know that betraying this man's trust was the very worst thing she could have done, but she would suffer for her actions nonetheless.

“Are you going to tell me about it?” Seth asked calmly, jerking Nephtys's attention back to him.

She blinked and stilled, her mind racing like a gazelle through the possibilities of what he might be referring to.

“About what?” she asked, striving for composure.
She did not want her brother to know about the dream-visions. But even in his weakening state, his intuition was still sharp and flawless, and she had been thinking of them almost nonstop. He must have sensed it.

He closed his eyes, as though conserving energy. “You've been seeing him, haven't you.” Not a question, but an accusation filled with tightly bound wrath.

Nevertheless she attempted innocence. “Who?”

“You know very well who I mean!” The ire flooded out. He opened his eyes and pinned her with a piercing glare. The room swirled with his dark power. “I'd say it was in a vision, but it's more than that. You've seen him in the flesh. You've
been
with him,” Seth bit out.
“Haven't you?”
he demanded.

Her jaw dropped in consternation. “How did you…”

Seth turned on her, his gaze furious as he jabbed the air with a finger to emphasize every point. She felt the aura of each jab punch into her chest. “You've been covering your neck with scarves and collars for the past week. You reek of vampire magic. And you just lied to Shahin about seeking a vision.” He advanced on her, his weary eyes narrowed to slits. “Do I not have enough to contend with without my own sister consorting with the enemy behind my
back?” Seth rarely raised his voice, but he almost shouted the last.

She stood her ground, but it wasn't easy facing down an incensed demigod. Haru-Re was not the only one who could crush her like a scarab beetle. In his present state, Seth might do it accidentally…or on purpose.

She held up her palms in supplication. “
Hadu
, that is exactly why I didn't tell you. With everything going on, I wanted to try and deal with this hateful intrusion on my own.”

He made a visible effort to calm himself.

“And how's that going for you?” he snapped, as though the answer weren't obvious.

“Not all that well,” she admitted, knowing the truth was the only viable option at this point. “Haru-Re has found a way to transmigrate physically, through my dreams.”

Seth looked stunned, suddenly wide awake. “He can make himself appear? Here? In Khepesh?”

She nodded miserably. “He claims he's able to do it using an ancient, forgotten spell he found in his library.”

Seth's face went stony. “It's difficult to believe such a spell could ever have been lost.”

“I agree.” She let out a long sigh and took a few steps away from him. She couldn't think within the field of angry power still rolling off him in waves.
“Although I suppose it's possible it was a carefully guarded secret belonging to a conquered
per netjer
. He's taken over many smaller ones through the years. And like you, he always spares their libraries and adds the scrolls to his own collection. It's possible the spell has languished and only now been rediscovered.”

She was hoping Seth would be distracted by the speculation, but she should have known better.

“What exactly has he done to you?” he demanded.

“What sedition has he asked you to perform for him?”

It hurt her pride a little that her brother believed Ray would have no other purpose for his nocturnal visits than treachery. Not that Seth was wrong…no matter how much she wanted to think otherwise.

She swallowed and wandered over to the dual thrones where Seth sat during his audiences as high priest before his people. Over the centuries, a handful of consorts had occupied the smaller of the two; sometimes at his request, she herself had sat in it as his trusted adviser. She ran her fingers along the cool silver arm of the throne, not daring to sit in it now.

“He wants me to abandon you and go back to him,” she answered bitterly. “But that is hardly news. We both know why he wants me, and it's not
because of his undying love for his former slave girl.”

Seth let out a breath and his face softened a fraction. “Thank beneficent Ptah for that. Otherwise, I fear I would have lost you long ago.”

She started to say “Never!” but didn't. There was no use denying the all-too-real possibility. Having stayed in love with the bastard for so long, who was to say but her incalculable weakness might in the end win out, even over her strong and inviolable family loyalty? An ugly truth that shamed her as nothing else could.

Understanding her dismay over her inner failing, Seth opened his arms to her. She went into them gratefully. “I've been trying to stay awake, spending every moment I can in our library, hoping to find a counter-spell or a ward against it.”

“And?”

“Nothing yet.”

He grunted, and before she realized what he was doing, he unfastened her jeweled collar and slid it from around her neck, exposing the fading marks of the first vampire bite Ray had given her a week ago. Seth gently tipped her head to one side to examine it, murder glittering in his eyes as brightly as the collar. He knew better than to touch the marks. Or even breathe on them.

At length, he asked, “Are there more?”

She lowered her gaze. He knew their adversary well. “Yes,” she admitted.

He didn't ask where. “So he fucks you.”

Her face went hot. “Yes.” Because that was the word for it. Ray was not a man who made love.

“Whore-son of a jackal,” Seth ground out. “Would it help if someone stayed with you in your room as you sleep and kept guard?”

“I don't think so.” She shook her head. “I don't know how to explain it. He's not…there with me, in the place where I fall asleep. It's like he's in my head, except—” she raised her fingers to hover over the bite “—our bodies are real.
This
is real.”

Seth didn't often appear worried, but now a shadow of concern moved across his already-drawn face. “A very powerful spell. Luckily, it must only work with those he has a positive emotional connection with. Otherwise, by now he would surely have come into my dreams and tried to kill me.”

She gasped. She hadn't thought of that. Then she frowned. “A love spell? You think?” Though she wasn't so sure about the positive emotional part. But if that was true, it could narrow down prospective sources of the spell. Not all gods could use emotions for their magic.

Seth released her and went over to drop down onto the larger throne. He leaned back and steepled his fingers thoughtfully. “A love spell makes sense
and answers the question of why he hasn't come after me in my dreams. But I don't like it. I don't like that he has such power over you.”

“You think
I
do?” she cried. “I haven't had more than a few hours' sleep in the past week. I'm desperate to end this torture!”

Seth tilted his head. “He doesn't pleasure you?”

“Yes! Yes, of course he does.” She put her hands to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. “That's why I'm so worried. You know the sensual power a vampire has over a woman, even a priestess of my magical abilities. I'm terrified he'll make me do something I don't want to do, just to feel that incredible pleasure again. It's an unholy addiction. I'm so afraid I'll break.”

“That would not be a good thing.”

“No, it wouldn't.” She felt the hot press of tears sting her eyes. “I need to find a way to defeat that spell.
Soon.
Or it may just be me who's the downfall of all of Khepesh.”

 

Shahin stalked across the oasis toward his tent. With every step he took, the ground quaked and rolled, his element agitated beyond rational control. Along the way, he paused only long enough to toss his scabbard and scimitar to one of his men. He did not want to be armed when he confronted Gemma.

She was reclining among the pillows under the front canopy of his tent, a Turkish coffeepot and demitasse sitting on the low brass table at her elbow, a book in her hand. He'd had one of the women take away her ugly riding clothes this morning, and had conjured a cupboardful of beautiful dresses for her instead. She'd chosen one in emerald green, a thin, flowing concoction of silk that fluttered about her shapely calves in the morning breeze. Her feet were bare. At any other time, the sight of her would have caused his body to quicken with possessiveness.

Now he wondered what evil demon had seized hold of his wits to have him bring her here. The woman was a curse he did not need.

She watched his approach uncertainly, her smile of greeting fading from her face.

“You're upset,” she said, grabbing the cup and saucer as the ground roiled under them.

What was her first clue?

“Josslyn has disappeared,” he told her, to gauge her reaction.

“Oh?” The single word contained guilt and no surprise.

He growled an oath. “This was
your
doing.
Wasn't it?
” Furious, he closed the distance between them. The tent shook just as furiously as the earthquakes spilled from his anger.

The book flew from her hand as she comprehended
his rage. She scuttled backward on the pillows. “I d-don't know w-what you're talking about.”

He threw the camel bag at her feet, then swooped down and grasped her shoulders in a hard grip, hauling her up to stand. “By the blood of Sekhmet,
do not lie to me!
”

Her body trembled, but her eyes held more than a shade of defiance. “All right. I did it! I let Bint loose to warn Josslyn.” To his disbelief, her gaze melted a little and she touched his chest with her fingers, almost in a caress. A temblor purred through the sand beneath her. “Shahin, I am here with you now of my own desire, but surely you didn't think I'd let you kidnap my sister without a fight? She deserves a choice in whether to join the
per netjer
, and certainly in whether to marry a stranger—a stranger who's a vampire!”

The memory of his own sister's forced “union” skated through Shahin's mind, tempering his anger at this woman's betrayal as nothing else could have. Tempered, but not diminished. He reined in the fury of his element and pushed her toward the tent door. “Get. Inside.”

Now she did look worried. “No!”

She tried to dig in her heels, but he was in no mood. He lifted her, threw her over his shoulder and carried her in. She screamed and beat his back
with her fists. He barely felt it. No one in camp paid the slightest attention to her cries.

“Stop,” he ordered.

He set her on her feet, grabbing her wrist when she would shrink away from him. A few of the torch sconces still burned, casting the room into a chiaroscuro of dancing light and shadow. He could smell her sudden acrid fear, hear the cacophony of her out-of-control heartbeat. She was under his complete power and they both knew it.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked hoarsely.