by Allie Burton
“Yes, that’s what was in the box. A gold crown my aunt sent for my birthday.” I rubbed the spot where he’d held me. The spot didn’t hurt. I just missed his warmth.
“A crown.” His repetition sounded pensive.
“I don’t even think it was real gold, so I don’t understand why anyone would want the thing.”
“A crown.” He bobbed his head, clearly thinking. “Nothing else.”
“Whoever he is, or whoever he’s working with, will realize I no longer have the crown, that we dropped it off here, and forget about me.” I forced positivity. Those men would not come after me again.
“There was nothing else in the package your aunt sent?” He took hold of my hand in a tight grip, and the connection buzzed through me, sending tremors of delight across my skin.
“No.” I thought about the rope tied around my waist hidden beneath my coat. The rope was pretty, with its golden thread and intricate knots, but it was only packing material. Protection to keep the crown safe.
“I’m trying to figure this out. Why would your aunt send you something and then want the gift given to someone else?”
“The no-give-back rule doesn’t apply to my family.”
Poor Antony. He’d only offered to help, not get caught up in international intrigue. What had Aunty Neffy gotten into? I shrugged, unwilling to share more. I didn’t want to involve him anymore.
He squeezed my hand, as if trying to inject confidence of him into me. “You’re sure there was nothing else in the box?”
“Just packaging.” The danger was done. I was sure.
He dropped my hand. “Oh.”
Guess he didn’t want to hold my hand or kiss me. Guess he wasn’t attracted to me. Okay, fine. I had enough going on in my life right now. The crazy men. My aunt in danger. Getting kicked out of school.
I needed to get back to school and try to organize the chaos in my life. Glancing at the sidewalk, the unconscious man came into view.
The man moaned. He didn’t open his eyes behind the knit face mask. He wasn’t a very large man. That must be why Antony took him out so easily.
I bent down and put my hand to his neck and felt a pulse. “He’s alive. What should we do?”
With a furrowed brow, Antony scanned the guy. “Leave him here.”
“He needs a doctor.” Stubbornness set in my tone.
“Really?” Disbelief was written on Antony’s face. “The man tried to kidnap you and you want to help him?”
“Even criminals deserve medical care.”
Antony pulled out his cell phone. “I have a friend with the police department. I’ll call him, explain the situation, and he’ll make sure the guy gets medical attention, and a jail cell.”
* * *
“Do you think I should be worried about the other man in the van?” My mind kept coming back to the almost-kidnapping, to my aunt’s terrified voice on the phone, to the delivery guy disappearing into the air. I’d tried to talk myself into believing everything was okay. I couldn’t stop the worry.
Antony and I headed toward school. We hadn’t spoken much on the way back. I was trying to comprehend what had happened, and Antony hovered around as if protecting me from an invisible force.
I loved the attention, but his nervous energy sent trembles through my body adding to my concern.
“No.” He stumbled beside me. I’d never seen him miss a step. “I’m sure once they realize you delivered…you delivered the crown, they’ll stop bothering you.”
His assessment was similar to mine, giving me little comfort. Fear prevailed. “What if the men in the van were different from whomever my aunt wanted me to deliver the crown to?”
“How many people would want a gold crown? Especially since you said it wasn’t made from real gold?” His words pointed out the ridiculousness, except he sounded more serious.
Was he covering something up?
“True.” I didn’t want to think about strange men with weird contraptions. I was tired of expecting danger around every corner. There was nothing I could do about the men in black until Antony’s cop friend questioned the one guy. I’d rather think more pleasant thoughts. Like when I was depressed and took myself shopping. This time I wanted to think about how Antony had almost kissed me. And, I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to stop the confusion about what I should feel for him. “Where are you originally from, Antony?”
“Why?” His sharpness caught my attention.
“Because getting to know each other is what two people do when they first meet.” Maybe he wasn’t interested now he knew trouble followed me like thrift store rip-offs of the latest designs.
“I’m from here.” His blank expression wasn’t forthcoming.
“San Francisco? I’m from New York.”
“What brings you to high school on the west coast?” He sounded stilted. Did he not talk to a lot of girls?
“My parents forced me to attend Exeter Academy. If I attend classes and get my grades up they’ll bring me back home.”
“To New York?”
“Yes.” I grabbed a branch from a bush next to the sidewalk and let the green leaves squeeze through my fingers. In New York snow probably lined the concrete and the wind would be bitterly cold. No green plants or flowers. No leisurely strolls. I always missed the greenness and the warmth during the middle of winter in New York. “What about you? Why are you attending Exeter Academy?”
He’d told me he was a student, although I’d never seen him in any of my classes.
“To learn.”
A couple of students passed by, probably heading to the library.
“What’s your favorite subject?”
His chin dropped and his eyes glazed. “What’s your favorite subject?”
“I asked you first.”
“History.”
“What do you enjoy about history?” I didn’t see the point to the subject. “The past is the past. You can’t change history or fix it. And memorizing all those dates…yikes.”
“All the changes occurring in such a short timeframe is amazing.” His tone filled with awe. “I mean the continents and countries discovered, the wars and rulers, and how modern technology has affected everything. It’s fascinating.”
“I guess.”
“You can learn from the past so you don’t repeat the same mistakes.”
“Like saggy pants.”
His sharp glare connected with mine, and he analyzed me. He took a sideways step, moving away.
Maybe he was too serious-minded for me. He had a purposefulness about him I didn’t understand. Maybe this connection or attraction was only one-sided. He didn’t feel the sparks. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to kiss me after my brush with death. My sunny imagination filled with dark clouds of depression. Maybe it was just me and my creativity.
The silence between us was only broken by the noise of our feet hitting the pavement, an occasional car driving past, and people passing on the sidewalk. We’d walked over a mile this afternoon. I couldn’t imagine walking everywhere like people did in the past. “I don’t know how people lived before cars and airplanes and cell phones.”
His sudden, deep laugh rumbled inside me. “Talk about the wonders of science. The fact people can travel the world; that the world is round and travels around the sun and not the other way.”
“Huh? Everyone knows Earth travels around the sun since Copernicus.”
Antony’s cheeks reddened. “Well, of course we know now. Think of the ancient people who thought everything revolved around the earth. That destiny was determined by kings and queens who relied on false gods.”
“And the gods’ magical powers.” I chuckled at the ridiculousness. “My aunt studied ancient-Egyptian religions. That’s why she’s in Egypt. That’s why I was named—”
“Named?”
I pushed out the truth with bravado in my voice. Fake bravado. “My Egypt-loving aunt named me because my parents didn’t care enough to give me a name.”
One of the ma
in reasons I hated my name. Because it hadn’t been a gift from my parents.
Antony moved closer and put his arm around my shoulders. “I’m sure your parents cared.”
The comforting gesture, the closeness, and the adrenaline overload brought a stinging sensation to my eyes. I would not cry in front of Antony. Not about something as stupid as my name. “Doesn’t matter.” I took a deep breath before embarrassing myself with the truth. “My real name is Cleopatra.”
His Adam’s apple moved up and down, as if he’d taken a deep swallow. “You were named after the ancient-Egyptian queen.”
“Funny, seeing as your name is Antony.” Not really funny at all.
“A strange coincidence.” He didn’t sound like he believed in coincidences.
And neither did I. Which is why, when he’d first told me his name, I’d freaked. Marc Antony and Queen Cleopatra were an item once upon a time, and I didn’t want to repeat their past mistakes.
Hmm. Kind of how he’d made a comment about learning from past history.
“I never would’ve survived, living in ancient times.” I repeated my earlier comment.
“Yes, you would have.” His confidence in me boosted my spirits.
No one else ever believed in me. “I don’t know.”
“You would’ve survived, because you wouldn’t know any differently.” He picked up his pace. “Going from this time to ancient times would be difficult.”
“Do you believe that’s possible?” My imagination took off.
“Who knows?” He said it as if he did know.
“Why did your parents name you Antony?” I’d always been fascinated with where people got their names because of my odd name.
“My parents didn’t.” His expression hardened. He shook his head and his face cleared. “I mean, Antony is an old family name.”
We reached the front door of Henderson Hall.
I paused in front of the door, not really wanting to end my time with him. Would he call? Ask me on a date? He hadn’t even asked for my phone number. “Where do you live?”
“I live with a friend of the family. He’s a professor at a local university.”
“I’d love to meet him.” Hint. Hint.
“Sure.” Non-committal.
I’d dated a lot of guys before. Nothing serious. A lot of first and second dates. Things always fizzled. Similar to trying on the latest styles and deciding the shape didn’t fit right.
I could always tell when a guy was interested or not. Except with Antony. He was difficult to read. At times, I thought he was attracted to me. At other times, now, for instance, he didn’t seem interested at all.
We’d met and I was intrigued. By his handsomeness, by his kindness and gentleness, by his strength.
“Thanks for coming with me today. I’d love to return the favor. Buy you a cup of coffee, or something?” My voice squeaked at the end, nerves grabbing onto my vocal cords.
He glanced around like he’d been exposed, forced onto a runway with no clothes. “Sure. Let’s exchange numbers.”
A good sign. If he’d only taken my number, I’d have no way to contact him. Not that I would. I’d wait for him to call.
After exchanging numbers, he gave a slight wave. “See you around, CC.”
The comment stopped me for a second. Had he emphasized the word see or was my imagination working overtime? And what did see you around mean? Around campus? Or would he call?
I enjoyed having him by my side. I felt safer. Comfortable, and yet excited at the same time. There was more to Antony than had been revealed, and I was curious. He’d helped run an errand and saved my life. We’d almost kissed. Like a repetitive trend, my thoughts kept returning to the kiss that wasn’t.
A smile bloomed on my face, thinking about the hug. If I experienced any more trouble, hopefully he’d be around to protect me.
I shoved the glass door of the hall open and sauntered past the reception desk. The same girl sat behind the counter. She ignored me, staring at the closing door as if waiting for someone else. Maybe she was crushing on Antony.
A text from Demetri came in, telling me about the latest floor samples I needed to see. He always gave me the scoop on his latest fashion updates. I didn’t have time to rush to his design shop on Maiden Lane. I needed to contact Mr. Bartlett about supposedly missing class, I had homework to do, and I needed to call Aunty Neffy and let her know the crown was delivered.
Then, she’d be safe, and so would I.
After taking the elevator to my floor, the first thing I noticed was the message written on my normally blank whiteboard attached to my door. A spike jolted me. A message.
Excitement had me racing forward, tripping on my feet to read the note. Ellen, my resident advisor, had written the headmaster wanted to meet with me in the morning.
The spike dove to the bottom of my gut. There was only one reason the headmaster wanted to meet with me. Mr. Bartlett had reported my absence, and that I hadn’t completed my AP Euro presentation. Which meant I’d missed the last class, my last opportunity, before expulsion.
I unlocked my door and slammed it closed behind me. Unzipping my jacket, I slipped the gold knotted rope from around my waist. “And I thought this stupid thing would bring me luck.”
I tossed the rope.
The golden thread swished into the waste bin.
Chapter Seven
Antony
“Tired of being Cleopatra’s errand boy?” Ash leapt from the angled roof of the pastel colored, three-story house and landed on his feet in front of Antony.
The fall would’ve killed any normal teen. Ash wasn’t normal. And neither was Antony.
“I was retrieving a magical artifact.” He forced himself to sound aloof and unbothered. Shifting around to make sure no neighbors watched, he jumped over Ash and onto the front porch of the professor’s house. “It’s what the Soul Warriors do.”
“We’re also always aware of our surroundings, brother.” Jumping toward Antony with a kicking action, Ash’s foot socked Antony in the abs.
“Oof.” The strong kick was merely an annoyance. His startled reaction had been from being caught daydreaming. Antony grabbed the offending black-booted ankle and twisted, tossing his brother high in the air. “We might be brothers through Tut, not by blood.”
His brother grabbed the edge of the pointed gable surrounding the upper window and clung. “You didn’t even realize I’d been following you for several blocks, because you were so lost in your daydream.”
“I was thinking.”
Thinking about how much he enjoyed talking to CC. How she was so much more than she pretended to be. Stronger and smarter and braver than even she knew. She truly cared about her aunt. She’d planned to go to the slum neighborhood by herself. She realized he’d used some type of power, although he tried to explain away his strength.
His gut clenched. “Pointed pyramids.” Mad at himself, he kept his swearing low so Ash couldn’t hear.
Using pure arm strength and no secret powers, Ash pulled himself back onto the tiled roof of the professor’s house. His white T-shirt pulled across his shoulders. “Thinking about Cleopatra.” His teasing belied the seriousness of his actions.
A truth Antony would never admit. He loved how her silky hair shone. How her pert nose stuck higher in the air when she acted snooty. Her demanding tone that rubbed him the wrong way, and yet attracted him at the same time.
He fisted his hands in annoyance. He must stop thinking about the girl. She was an assignment, that was all.
“I was planning how to secure the Knot of Uset.” Mostly.
Using the black metal railing as a counterbalance, he jumped higher than the roof and slammed into Ash, who stumbled and started falling off the back side of the house. This was part of their training. Attacks and counterattacks. Drills. History lessons.
Antony hadn’t been kidding when he’d told CC he loved history, because he had so much history to learn. He’d been born in fifty-one B.C.
in the Nile Valley. After saving Cleopatra’s life, she’d forced him into servitude. So much for gratefulness.
The cold queen of the hot desert had ordered him about, dominated him, used him. He pinched his lips together, controlling his fury. Fury at the woman who’d controlled his past life.
Until the day he met the high priest from the Society of Aten when he was fifteen. He’d become their Xander, with the hopes of ruling Upper and Lower Egypt and making Queen Cleopatra pay. Except it hadn’t turned out the way he’d wanted.
During his sixteenth year, on the night of the summer solstice, he’d changed into a stone shabti. Another form of servant. And stayed in stone form until last summer, when he’d been freed. Now, he served a new purpose, a higher calling.
Like Ash and the other Soul Warriors.
Ash rotated in the air and managed to land on his feet in the backyard. “You call that fighting? Ha!”
Antony dropped from the roof, aiming for his teasing brother. “This is what I call fighting.”
Landing on top of his opponent, he wrapped his arms around him, and they stumbled to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Good thing the tall wooden fences and large trees hid their activities at the house from prying neighbors.
At a disadvantage, and pinned beneath him, Ash tried to rile him with words. “How does it feel to be working for a woman again?”
Antony used his shame to fight harder. Shoving his knee close to Ash’s groin, he reined in his temper with a near miss. He gritted his teeth. “I work for Olivia, and so do you.”
“Yes, I work for Olivia. But you’re a slave for Cleopatra.” Ash’s verbal strike hit deep.
Deeper than any physical wound.
Pain ratcheted from his brain to his body, ripping open his centuries-old scars. His muscles tensed with fury. He’d never be a slave to a woman again. Never bow down to serve and protect.
He was free to do as he wanted, and he chose this quest for the good of the world. And if CC was part of it, he’d deal with it. Deal with her. And when the quest was done, he’d forget her.
He would not become her slave.
Taking advantage of his mental distraction, Ash used his knee to separate them and slip from beneath. Rolling on top, he whipped out a short knife and held it to Antony’s throat.