by Allie Burton
Out of curiosity. That’s all.
He didn’t actually want to handle her hair. More a comparison between her hair and girls’ in ancient times. Shampoos and lotions were different now. He’d smelled her exotic, flowery scent when he’d bumped into her.
Cleopatra took the same path as the other night, back to the place she lived. He jumped from one tree to the next, getting slightly ahead of her.
Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket. “Hello.” Her impatient tone grated on his nerves.
As if she couldn’t believe someone dared interrupt her. The mighty Cleopatra.
But she wasn’t that Cleopatra. He had to remember. She had no powers and no army.
“Aunty Neffy? Are you all right?” Cleopatra’s tone changed from impatience to concern. Her expression softened. She seemed to care about her aunt.
“The package? Yes, I have it.” She moved faster. “Something’s strange with—”
He leaned in, balancing between patience and charging forward. There was only one package important to him.
Antony wished he’d gotten closer, so he could hear the other person’s side of the conversation. It was odd the person on the other side heard Cleopatra. She was in an invisible state and couldn’t be seen or heard in person. It must be the long distance, or something to do with the modern communication device.
“I’ll call the police—”
Did her aunt always interrupt her?
Cleopatra stopped short. “How much danger?”
He halted, analyzing her expression and her voice. Was Cleopatra in danger, or the aunt?
Concern for Cleopatra raced through his bloodstream, pushing him to action. He couldn’t contain his natural instinct to protect. He made a tentative move to swing down from the tree, and stopped. His muscles hardened and he lectured himself. He couldn’t go right up to her. He wasn’t here to protect her. That’s how he’d gotten into trouble with the other Cleopatra.
“I’ll do it right now.” Cleopatra’s determined tone switched to ironic. “It’s not like attending class matters.”
Tension held his muscles tight. Do what right now?
Cleopatra held the phone away and stared at it as if it could reveal secrets, then she shoved it back in her pocket and walked faster.
Indecision swayed like the tides of the Nile. He knew the phone call was about the item he needed to retrieve, because her aunt last had possession of the precious object. The item had been traced to San Francisco and by the sight, or un-sight of Cleopatra, she carried the relic on her person. He wasn’t going to learn anything more by spying.
Jumping from tree to tree, he retraced his path. Using his forearms, he swung out and landed behind her on silent feet.
“Hey!” He waved and yanked his hand down, kicking himself. Maybe keeping to the shadows and watching from a distance was a better option.
She stopped, scrutinized him. “Are you talking to me?”
When they’d met, teasing about her invisibility had been a test. Now, he had to convince her everything was normal. That everyone could see her. That what had happened in class was an abnormality.
Swallowing the lump of uncertainty that this was the right way to approach the situation, he stepped closer. “Yes. Remember, we met yesterday.” He noticed a few startled expressions thrown his way. He appeared to be talking to himself.
Her pointy chin angled in accusation. “You can see me?”
She’d definitely realized the invisibility portion of the power. He needed to play it off, talk to her as if she was crazy, not let her know the power she currently possessed. “Of course, I can see you.”
“What am I wearing?”
“What?” He noted the other students walking between classes. If he could get her to a more deserted location this mission would be easier.
“What am I wearing?” She demanded.
The tone rubbed at his old wounds. He had to remember even though she had the same name, resembled and acted like his queen from the past, she wasn’t. He’d tell her what she was wearing because it was part of his plan. Not hers.
And not because he’d noticed the way the rough cloth clung to her rounded hips. How the garment covering her torso—a coat—hinted at what lay underneath. How her features were prettier and less sharp than his queen’s.
A heat wave, as if a hot wind from the desert, blew inside his body. His blood pumped a little faster, slowing his thoughts. “Your sandals are—”
“Sandals?” She picked up her foot encased in black leather with a sharp point jutting out from the heel. “In March?”
“High heels.” He spat the modern words. He’d studied clothing the last few months, yet his brain couldn’t come up with the right terminology. “Your bottom half is covered in denim.” And what were those soft fuzzy things people wrapped around their necks to keep warm? In Egypt, keeping warm had never been a problem.
She scrunched her eyes, confusion clear on her face. “I guess so.” Her eyebrows un-furrowed and her expression cleared. “You really can see me?”
He’d love to tease her and pretend he couldn’t see her, to keep her confused, except she could never realize the strength of the Knot of Uset’s powers. He was the only one who could see her because he’d been anointed. “Well, I’m not blind.”
“But others…” She smashed her lips together, stopping herself from going on. “Never mind. Antony, right?”
His heart lightened because she’d remembered his name, and then he mentally berated himself. It didn’t matter if she remembered him or thought he was cute. The only thing that mattered was getting her to trust him so he could ask his real questions. Find the Knot and go, never seeing Cleopatra again. Find the Knot before others realized she had possession.
He nodded. “And you are?” He knew her name, but he couldn’t let her know he knew.
“CC.”
He choked. She was lying. “CC?”
She must’ve noticed his expression because she explained, “Well, it’s my nickname.”
He knew what a nickname was. Antony wasn’t his real name, either. His real name wouldn’t have worked in this modern world. “You’re in a hurry. Something urgent?”
“Kind of.” Nibbling her bottom lip, she started walking again.
He kept pace with her, trying to appear inconspicuous. “Can I help?”
She shot him a suspicious glare. “I don’t even know you.”
“We just introduced ourselves.” He kept his voice casual. Modern relationships were built on less and all he wanted was information on the Knot. “We can get to know each other.”
“I have to deliver something.”
His nerves pulsed. “What? I mean, where?”
“Somewhere by the Tenderloin District.”
“Sounds mysterious.” And dangerous. Anything involving Cleopatra would be dangerous. She was being hunted by forces she didn’t know and didn’t understand. “Would you like me to accompany you?” His forced casualness returned. He couldn’t appear too interested in the package, only in her. She needed to trust him to become her champion.
A sharp fear paralyzed, a recurring fear. He hated the thought of becoming this girl’s errand boy, servant, slave.
He brushed the fear away. If he needed to serve to get his hands on the package, he’d do it. His quest was to find the Knot of Uset and to render it useless. The ancient relic couldn’t fall into evil fists, or even unknowing hands. Like Cleopatra’s.
Angling her head, she pursed her red, pouty lips deciding whether to trust him. “You sound so old fashioned.”
His breath came in sharp as he realized his mistake. “I am a gentleman.”
She snorted a laugh of disbelief. “Yeah, right. The guys I hung out with in New York pretended to be gentlemen. They weren’t.”
“I am.” He wondered what kind of relationships she’d had in the past, and then pushed the thought aside. Her personal life wasn’t his business. He’d only had one relationship i
n his past and it wasn’t by choice. “Where’s the package now?”
“In my room. I have to get it.” She stopped and bit her lower lip. He’d already begun to recognize the action as a nervous gesture. “The truth is, I’d love someone to come. My aunt is in trouble and she’s the one who sent the package, and now wants me to give it to someone else.”
“I’d be happy to.” Strolling beside her, he tried to contain the anxious sizzling in his veins. He was this close to success. She’d bring him the package and his mission would be complete.
“This is me.” She pulled open the door to Henderson Hall.
He’d done recognizance on the residential hall and the school. He found it hard to comprehend how people lived on top of each other in this modern world. In his time period, the slave quarters were crowded, but there weren’t tall skyscrapers reaching toward the clouds. Only the pyramids pierced the blue Egyptian sky.
He grabbed the handle from her and opened the door wider. He might’ve been a slave, but he’d been trained how to act. “After you.”
Cleopatra waved to the receptionist.
And of course, the girl couldn’t see her.
His anxiety tightened. He couldn’t let Cleopatra know she was invisible. Couldn’t let her understand the power she currently possessed. Whatever happened in her classroom she had to believe was a fluke.
Antony waved and flashed a huge grin at the student.
The girl behind the counter grinned. She wiggled her fingers at him.
Cleopatra pulled back in surprise. She thought the greeting was for her and for some reason that was unusual. Or maybe she still believed she was invisible.
She turned toward him and he quickly put his hand down.
“Wait here.” A command.
Her demanding tone raked his spine. He controlled the automatic shiver and the grimace on his face.
She moved toward the bank of elevators, pressed the button, and stepped inside the up-and-down-only chariot.
“Hi.” The receptionist grinned again. “Can I help you?”
How could he explain he was waiting for an invisible girl? “I’m waiting for someone to arrive.”
“Who? Maybe I know them.” She leaned forward on the counter exposing her ample cleavage.
His body heated at her aggressive stare. “Probably not.”
While women in ancient Egypt exposed a lot of skin, barely covering their breasts with only jewelry, they weren’t forward. They played sly games with shy smiles. They did not openly invite you out and wiggle their assets.
“Male or female?” The girl pouted.
“Female.” He kept his answers short. He didn’t share intel with strangers. “Cleopatra Carruthers.”
The girl leaned back, her pout disappearing. “I haven’t seen her today.”
Neither has anyone else.
“She’s supposed to meet me here.” He took a step toward the door. “I’ll wait a few more minutes.”
The girl’s smiled widened in an open invitation. “If she doesn’t show up I get off work at noon.”
The elevator dinged and Cleopatra emerged, carrying a plain brown box. The Knot of Uset must be making her invisible even though she wasn’t wearing it but carrying it in the box. The box was also invisible.
She strolled toward him, and to not raise suspicions he opened the door so she could go through.
The receptionist frowned at the closing elevator door. “What about your friend?”
“I’ll catch up with her later.” He waved and left the building.
“Catch up with who later?” A single eyebrow arched.
“I told the girl I was waiting for someone.”
“You were. You were waiting for me.” Her demanding tone sent another wave of shivers down his spine. She expected him to wait and be at her command.
He’d have to control his reaction if he shivered every time she talked. Of course, when she handed him the box he’d never have to see the demanding-annoying-rich Cleopatra again.
He refused to feel sad or guilty. It wasn’t his job to protect her. He wasn’t her slave.
* * *
Cleopatra wouldn’t let go of the package. Antony had pretended he wanted to help. He’d asked several times if it was heavy. He’d even jostled the box as they’d taken a bus to the delivery location. She refused to let him hold the package.
His muscles pulled taut, and frustration rammed down his throat. He’d thought about a grab and go. The action didn’t feel right. Certainly not gentlemanly. He didn’t want her to think him a thief. Plus, she was invisible. How long would the power affect her, after she no longer held the Knot?
He didn’t want her to realize the power she held in her delicate hands, so he kept up the pretense of her being visible. He put his arm on the backrest, so no one would sit on her on the bus. He talked to her, even though he appeared to be talking to air.
They left the bus and trekked a few blocks. Sirens screamed around them, police and ambulances. The downtrodden neighborhood appeared out of place, surrounded by expensive downtown San Francisco real estate. Storefronts boarded up. Dimly-lit bars scrawled with graffiti. A run-down hospital down the street.
“Not a very nice neighborhood.” He stated the obvious, wanting Cleopatra to be afraid. To notice the derelict buildings, the graffiti on the walls, the homeless people on the sidewalk.
She was used to the finer things in life. Expensive schools, limousine rides, designer clothes. She’d even talked about a designer named Demetri, one of her friends.
While he’d grown up in the slums of Alexandria before becoming a slave to the queen. He’d seen both sides and knew how to act in both.
“Thanks for coming with me.” Her tone tinged with distaste and concern.
Satisfaction swelled inside him. It was time for the spoiled Cleopatra to see the seedier side of life. See that everyone wasn’t born with a golden spoon and a financial portfolio. “No problem.”
“These people are…” Her voice trembled, and her wide gaze took in the sights.
She didn’t come right out and say terrible things about them.
He heard the fear. “Some people aren’t as lucky as you.”
They passed a homeless woman sitting on a plastic bucket. A torn-up sweater was wrapped around her thin shoulders.
“Money doesn’t buy happiness, only designer fashion does.” Cleopatra added a fake laugh at the end of her somewhat-serious statement. “I’ll need to donate last season’s winter coats to the poor on the streets.”
Charity from Cleopatra?
He hadn’t expected that. And it didn’t matter. Enough wasting time. “What’s in the package?”
“It was a birthday present from my aunt.” Cleopatra’s knuckles whitened, as she gripped the box.
She was afraid of the neighborhood. This might make his job easier.
“She wants you to return a birthday present?”
“She’s in some kind of trouble, and it’s connected to this.” Cleopatra lifted the box.
They turned the corner, getting closer to the hospital. The sirens were louder and the smells stronger. Garbage and smoke and urine.
Her face paled, and her gray eyes were wider than a chariot’s wheel. Fear shone from every pore.
“This is the place.” She stopped on the cracked sidewalk in front of a light-industrial building.
The single-story warehouse sported boarded-up windows, garage doors decorated with anatomically incorrect images, and new graffiti covering old graffiti. Trash and broken bottles lay strewn across the front walkway, and a chain-link fence surrounded the site.
He’d lived in the slums and things weren’t this bad. In ancient Alexandria, the streets were the sewers, so the constant smell of waste burned your nose. Animals lived in and out of the tiny homes, but if people lived in a real building, they made sure it was presentable.
“Are you supposed to ring the doorbell?” He couldn’t let her get that far. If someone who actually unders
tood the Knot’s powers was inside, they’d gain possession. He needed to get her to trust him, and fast. He threw out a challenge. “The building looks abandoned. This isn’t safe.”
“I’m supposed to bring the package around to the back gate, through the alley.” No demand in her tone now. A quiet terror scratched out of her mouth.
He wanted to pull her close and tell her everything would be okay. But would it? The fact her aunt told someone that Cleopatra had the Knot of Uset put her in the target zone. Once he stole the Knot, what would happen to her?
She wouldn’t be safe. And he wouldn’t be a true warrior if he didn’t watch over her.
The thought warmed and chilled him at the same time, which scared the second life out of him. He hated women like her. “Who knows who could be waiting for you around the corner?”
“I need to deliver this.” Agony and fear and indecision twisted in her tone. “My aunt’s life depends on it.”
“You’re endangering your life.” He spoke the truth. He didn’t want her going into the yard. “Is it worth it?”
“Yes.” Her dark eyebrows hunched over her eyes. Fear battled with determination in the gray depths.
He placed his hand over her hand gripping the box. A zing spiraled through him. Attraction simmered. An attraction he didn’t want to analyze. “Let me deliver the package.”
“I don’t want to put your life in danger.”
She cared?
Probably not. Just an act on her part.
“I know self-defense techniques.” And have a few super powers. “I can take care of myself.”
“You’re sure?” Her delicate fingers trembled beneath his hand.
“Yes.” He was so close. So close to holding the Knot of Uset. His physical reaction had nothing to do with being close to Cleopatra.
She studied his face, judging his ability to fight and his trustworthiness. He held his breath, waiting, while she decided.
“I’ll wait for you here.” She handed him the box.
Relief caused the box to weigh nothing. He wanted to leap high in the air with success, except he’d never show her that side of him.
Cleopatra didn’t immediately become visible. Some of the effects of the magic must still be on her skin. Which would keep her safe while she waited. He was glad he’d contacted the Soul Warriors to let them know his general destination. He didn’t like leaving Cleopatra alone in this neighborhood, even for a few minutes, and even though she was invisible. Other anointed ones could see her.