Under Wraps: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Werewolves vs. Mummies Book 1) (9 page)

“Well, can we go through the door and kill mummies then? I have a soul to find,” and as I said the words a thought popped into my werewolf brain. “Speaking of which, I’m looking for the soul of my friend, Connor. I don’t suppose you know where it is? It came from the twenty-first century.” I looked at the floor sheepishly. “It’s sort of the reason I’m in Egypt to begin with.”

Anubis looked at me for a long time before inclining his head very slightly in a gesture that seemed to say he was sorry.

“No,” he said several seconds later. “But I’ll check around and let you know what I find.”

“Sweet, thanks a lot,” I said, and a huge weight felt like it lifted from my shoulders. Admittedly, I’d felt a little bad because between fighting mummies and tracking down the Book of Thoth, I hadn’t spent even five seconds looking for my friend Connor’s soul. But this was Anubis, one of the rulers of the underworld. If he was going to look for it, the soul was as good as found, right?

Once he found it, all I’d have to do was take it back home. Then I could wake Connor back up and forget this entire ordeal. No more gods, mummies, or crocodiles.

“Don’t mention it,” Anubis replied, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s the least I could do since you guys are going to rid the underworld of renegade mummies.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a promise,” Bast said, looking up at him, her yellow cat eyes filled with amusement.

“It does,” Aziza seconded. Anubis glanced at the two of them, and his shoulders slumped.

“I liked it better when you two didn’t talk to each other,” Anubis replied. “Rid the place of mummies, and I’ll find the soul. I promise.” As he said the words, lighting crackled through the sky and thunder boomed. The ground shook beneath us, and the door teetered open a crack. The smell of swamp gas filled the air, making me crinkle my nose.

“Ugh, what’s that smell?” I asked, covering my nose with my hand.

“Him,” Aziza said, jerking her thumb at the Egyptian god of death.

“It isn’t me,” Anubis said, kneeling down and scooping the cat into his arms. He held it there like an obscenely large, struggling baby. “That’s what the underworld smells like. It helps keep out intruders. You’ll get used to it once your nostrils go numb.”

“I don’t think she likes that,” I said as the cat slowly unfurled its claws. “I saw on a television show that cats don’t like being held like babies.”

“The mortal is correct,” Bast hissed, one claw flashing out but striking air as Anubis grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and tossed her through the door. Then, without waiting for a response, he entered the door himself, disappearing into its dark, dank depths.

“He’s really not very nice to his cat,” I said, taking a step toward the door as my wolf scanned for danger.

“That’s not his cat, you moron. It’s his wife, the goddess Bast.” Without waiting for me to reply, Aziza vanished into the doorway, leaving me to stand there by myself.

I wasn’t quite sure what was worse. That he’d treated his wife like that or that I’d met another god and hadn’t even known it. I sighed. I really should have brought an autograph book with me. I bet I could have sold it for a fortune online.

When the wolf was satisfied that there were no immediate threats, I stepped through the doorway and was greeted by alternating blasts of cool and warm air. It reminded me of the time my dad couldn’t make up his mind about the temperature in the house. He wound up running the air conditioner full blast with the fireplace eating wood like it was going out of style.

When I emerged a moment later, both Anubis and Aziza were standing there arguing, but they stopped as soon as they saw me. Behind them stood a seven-foot tall athletic-looking woman with skin like polished volcanic glass and hair that fell down to her ankles in a sweeping ebony wave. Golden bangles covered her arms, legs, and neck. Golden wire was actually woven through her ears so that it spiraled upward like a gilded serpent.

She glanced at me, and as my cheeks burst into flames because she’d caught me staring, she batted her long black eyelashes at me and placed one slender finger against her lips. The look in her eyes made some very uncomfortable thoughts swim through my mind.

“I don’t think your friend will mind if I tag along.” Bast’s voice was like having satin gently dragged across my skin. It made goosebumps rise on my flesh and my knees go a little weak.

I tried to speak, tried to say anything at all, but all I could do was keep staring at her with my mouth half-open like a dying fish.

Aziza glanced at me, threw her arms up in the air, and let out a little squeal of anger. “Whatever,” she snapped, glaring at me. Her cheeks were bright red and her eyes were angry. But why? Why was she so upset? Was it because of Bast? Surely she wasn’t jealous… right? No, that was crazy, Aziza was a millennia old princess, and surely she wouldn’t be interested in the likes of me… besides, there was that whole trying to kill me thing.

“Well, I’m glad we’re all in agreement then,” Bast murmured, sashaying over to me and putting one slender arm around my waist and pulling me against her. She was warm... so warm that I couldn’t think about anything but snuggling up against her. “I’ll pair up with Theseus, and you two can go do whatever it is you need to do about the mummies.”

“Wait, what?” Anubis asked, glancing at his wife, confusion and horror snaking across his jackal-face. Was there a reason this was a bad idea? I’m pretty sure there was, but as she ran the tips of her fingers along my spine, I couldn’t even remember how to make my mind work.

“I don’t want to go anywhere with
him
,” Aziza said, but it didn’t matter because Bast was already leading me away from them. I tried to look back, to just glance over my shoulder, but for whatever reason, I couldn’t.

“So, what do you want to do first?” Bast asked, her hand drifting just a touch lower so her fingers rested just above my butt. I swallowed, not sure what to do or say, but sure this was not going according to plan.

Chapter 12

“This is not going according to plan,” I said, my words carefully neutral so I wouldn’t offend my host. I was sitting on a soft pink cushion in the middle of a room where every object resembled some kind of bed. Bast was in front of me, lounging backward across a fuchsia loveseat, but she was so tall that her bare feet draped over the side.

I glanced down at the table, staring at the gilded goblet filled with milk and honey for a moment before moving to get up. “I think I should go and help Aziza.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Bast said, her voice the faint edge of a feline purr. She looked at me lazily, one hand thrown back across her forehead as her yellow-cat eyes watched me. “Those two have centuries of issues to deal with. Getting into a good tussle will help them sort it out.” Bast stretched, her chest straining against her grey tiger-striped blouse. “With any luck, maybe they’ll bump uglies and get that out of their system too. Either way, there isn’t anything for you to do right now.”

I swallowed, staring hard at her as I sat back down on my too soft cushion. “Are you suggesting that you want your husband to sleep with Aziza, and by sleep, I don’t mean sleep.”

“Yes,” Bast said in her purr voice. The word hung in the air, drifting between us like an amorphous blob.

“He’s your husband, right? Doesn’t that upset you?” I asked, feeling crazy because I was the voice of reason. She shifted, burying her shoulders into the couch and hugging onto one of the pillows so that her eyes were barely visible.

“It bothers me, but I’m a god. Gods do things like that. Our sex life is all kinds of screwed up.” She glanced at him. “The thing you’re not understanding is that gods actually have a lot less control over our destinies than you’d think. We’re bound by what people think of us. I’ve gone from being Anubis’ mother to his wife, and I’m sure I’ll have some new incarnation soon. Whatever people believe about us is what is. It’s why some of the aging gods combine together.” She shrugged dismissively, but the edge of sadness in her voice touched something deep inside me, scratching at a wound I didn’t even know I had.

I wasn’t sure what it was like to be a god. I couldn’t know. But I knew what it was like to be set up with someone you didn’t want to marry just because other people thought it would be a good idea. Truth be told, I’d been engaged since before I was born. I hadn’t actually met my wife because we weren’t supposed to get married until we both finished college. All I knew was that she was the daughter of an Alpha from New York. Our betrothal sealed some kind of treaty between the east and west coast wolves. Yippee.

I shook my head. Every time I thought about it, I got upset. So I always tried to keep it out of my mind. I’m sure the girl didn’t feel any better about it either, especially since she was a couple years older than me. She would never have a normal dating life, always destined not to get too involved. Truth be told, I didn’t really care if she slept around or whatever, it wasn’t exactly my business, and because she was a werewolf, it wasn’t like she could catch any diseases.

Still, I didn’t know how we would be expected to make it work. What if we were too different? What if we hated each other? What if the treaty fell apart because I was a lousy kisser?

“What are you thinking, pup?” Bast asked. She was sitting up, leaning forward with her elbows on the table and her head cradled in the palms of her hands. Her yellow eyes bored into me like a couple high-intensity laser beams.

“About my life, the universe, and everything,” I replied, looking away from her and down into my milk. I’d only taken a sip of it, and to be fair it was really good, but I wasn’t exactly interested in drinking the stuff. Which was odd because I couldn’t even remember the last time I had eaten.

“I doubt that,” Bast purred, her tongue flicking out between her teeth as she spoke. “You look more like you’re thinking about a girl. And, while I don’t mean to be blunt, I really hope it isn’t the jailer. There’s no hope for you down that road.”

I blushed, fire spreading across my face. “I wasn’t thinking about Aziza. I’m already engaged. It’s a prearranged thing to seal a treaty.” I was about to add, you wouldn’t understand, but didn’t. She was a god. She probably did understand. She probably understood why the grains of sand did the things they did.

“Oh,” Bast said, and her response surprised me. Color filled her cheeks as she crinkled her nose. “I did not realize you were spoken for, I wouldn’t have been so touchy feely if I’d known.” She looked down at the table. “I was trying to piss off my husband. It was petty, I know, but we don’t talk a lot. Being a god is a pretty time-consuming job, especially for him. People always die.”

I nodded as though I understood. I mean, I guess I sort of did, but I was pretty sure she just wanted someone to listen to her.

“It’s okay.” I shrugged because I didn’t know what else to say. “We’re not exactly together. As long as I don’t get a girl pregnant, it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m still sorry.” Bast smirked at me, and I swear to god her eyes glinted mischievously. She got to her feet, stretching so that her body strained against the fabric of her clothing. I looked away, embarrassed. I shouldn’t stare like that, not after I’d just admitted to being engaged. It made me feel… slimy.

“You know, it’s okay if you want to look,” she said, padding over to me, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. It was the color of blood, but instead of seeming horrible, it just seemed normal. “I don’t mind. No one else looks at me anyway. It’s kind of nice, actually.”

She sat down next to me on the cushion, her body so close I could feel the heat rising off of her. One of her perfect porcelain hands drifted down and rested on my thigh. I was pretty sure my cheeks were melting because I was suddenly so hot that I didn’t know what to do.

“What about this?” she purred. “Is this okay?”

When I didn’t respond, she moved her hand up just a touch so that it was resting just below the hem of my tunic. My heart was beating so quickly in my chest, I was pretty sure it was going to explode. Why was she doing this? What was I supposed to do? Should I push her off? Should I tell her to stop? But she was a god, if I told her to stop would she turn me into a mouse?

She leaned in close so that her breath was hot on my neck. It sent little shivers scampering across my flesh, and I wasn’t sure I could tell her no. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell her no. I swallowed as her tongue flicked out, nicking my earlobe.

“It’s been a long time,” she said, voice husky in my ear, and honestly, I wasn’t sure what to make of that because, as I turned toward her and stared into the face of a beautiful goddess, the only thing I could think about were how perfect her lips were. “We could do more…” she let the words hang there in the air, like a promise just aching to be kept. “I could show you things.”

I swallowed, but my throat was dry, and even though I shouldn’t have done it, I reached out, my hand reaching around the back of her head. She let me pull her into me, and as our lips touched, fireworks exploded in my brain.

Chapter 13

“What’s going on here?” Aziza’s angry voice splashed over me like a blast of ice water from a firehose.

Bast broke our kiss, languid hooded eyes craning up past me to stare over my shoulder. A look I couldn’t read spread across her face, but she made no effort to move.

“Nothing,” she said and the lie of it was heavy in the room. She might as well have stuck her hands behind her back and said the dog did it. Only, she’d be half right because I was the dog. And why, why did I feel guilty?

I turned my head to look. Aziza was standing there, glaring at us with a look that could have melted gold. Her dress was covered in splotches of blood and her hair was all sorts of messy. Anubis stood about half a foot behind her, huge and hulking. Like Aziza, he was covered in blood. It was smeared across his chest and arms, like he’d reached inside a corpse up to his elbows and then wiped his hands on his shirt. Only he wasn’t wearing one.

He was nothing but hard muscle, and staring at him, I suddenly felt very inadequate… and I had been tongue-kissing his wife. The look on his jackal-face was strangely blank, but something told me that was a bad thing.