Lord of the Desert

by Nina Bruhns

  Not to flee Khepesh. No, she had come to accept that her life as she’d once known it was over. Even if she managed to get far, far away, Seth would surely find her and bring her back. Or kill her. Of that there was no doubt whatsoever. She knew too much. The secrets of the per netjer were too precious to risk her talking.

  She was not willing to die for their secrets—not a chance. Nor was she willing to be turned into a zombie. Her only real option was to go along with their plans and hope to change their minds about her at some point…preferably sooner than later.

  Any other choice on her part would also spell the death of the man she loved. Totally unacceptable. She would suffer any pain, any sacrifice, to spare his life.

  No, she must accept her fate.

  But she must get a message to her sisters. To tell them she was fine, and not to worry about her. But more importantly, to let them know their mother may still be alive and that Gillian was searching for her. That she’d get word to them somehow when she had news.

  All she needed was to slip out for an hour or two. Just enough time to find someone to deliver her note. Then she’d come back and face her fate as bravely as she could.

  After all, there were far worse things than living a life of luxury as the wife of a vampire demigod. Forever.

  Weren’t there?

  At the height of the afternoon heat, when the priestesses of the temple and nearly all of Khepesh were in quiet repose, Gillian set her plans in motion. The good news was that she would have no trouble locating the entrance to the old tomb. It hadn’t been sealed, or even disguised. The bad news was that the only way to reach it was through a portal in the constantly-in-use council chamber.

  Time was ticking away. She had to do this today. Who knew when she’d next get the chance? So from a hiding place with a good view of the chamber door, she settled down to watch for her best opportunity.

  She caught a break when the council members, who were still debating day and night how to answer Haru-Re’s threat, adjourned for a few hours’ rest. As the last counselor left the chamber and exchanged a few words with the guardian of the door, she managed to slip past them into the darkened room, secreting herself behind a chair until the guard closed and locked the door with a loud snick.

  She was stuck now. Committed.

  Pulse thundering like a herd of hippos, she whispered a magical phrase Nephtys had taught her, to raise the level of flame on one of the ever-burning torch sconces on the wall. It sprang to life, and she lifted the torch from its holder, needing it to illuminate her hand-drawn map and light her way through the dark, disused tunnels.

  Crawling through the outside opening, she had to sit just inside the mouth of the tomb for ten full minutes before her eyes adjusted to the blinding summer sunlight of the Egyptian desert. After three days and nights below ground in the realm of the God of Darkness, she felt like a groundhog emerging on February second.

  She peeked out from between the towering sandstone cliffs of the gebel, getting her bearings. There was no trick to finding civilization—and an appropriate messenger. She just had to head for the Nile River Road, clearly visible less than a kilometer beyond the foot of the gebel. She made quick work of the hike down the steep path to the valley below, and was just leaning her butt against a large boulder to take a sip of water when the sound of falling pebbles alerted her. Someone was coming! Swiftly, she ducked behind the boulder.

  A donkey rounded the corner carrying a welcome familiar figure. She let out a breath of relief.

  “Mehmet!” she called, jumping out from her hiding place.

  “Miss!” He greeted her with popping eyes. “But… Where…? How…?” His gaze darted nervously up the cliffs to the hidden tomb. “Are you dead, miss?” he asked, far too earnestly for comfort.

  “No, Mehmet. I’m not dead. And I really need you to do me a favor.”

  “Yes, yes,” he said, his hands clutching the rope tied around his donkey’s muzzle, his bare heels gripping its belly as if he wanted to kick it to get the hell out of there, but didn’t dare. “Anything, miss.”

  She walked over to him, reaching into the pocket of the simple cotton dress she’d donned for her excursion. She pulled out an envelope containing the letter she’d carefully composed, and held it up. “Mehmet, I need you to deliver this to my sisters. Can you do that?”

  He eyed it uneasily, then glanced around again. “Certainly. Of course, miss.”

  He jerked his hand out to take the envelope, but his donkey suddenly shied, letting out a loud bray, and his grab missed. He cursed roundly in Arabic. She was glad she didn’t understand most of it.

  “Boys your age shouldn’t know those words,” admonished a deep, masculine voice from the trail above them.

  Oh. Crap.

  This could get ugly.

  Rhys stepped out from the shelter of the gebel where he’d shifted from al Fahl back to his human form, fuming at what he saw. How in the name of Isis had Gillian escaped Khepesh? “What the hell do you think you’re doing, woman?” he ground out.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” she retorted, whipping something behind her back.

  “Sentencing me to death, that’s what,” he shot back. He should be angry with her, but he couldn’t find it beneath his fury at Seth. Hell—at himself, for getting into this situation to begin with.

  She let out a gasp of denial. “No! I was coming back! I swear I was.”

  His brows hiked. “You really expect me to believe you managed to break free only to return to your perceived enslavement?”

  “Yes!” Her bravado deflated. “Because they’d blame you. I’d never let them hurt you because of me, Rhys. I couldn’t.”

  He regarded her for a long moment, and read the truth of it in her eyes. “Then why leave at all?”

  She bit her lip. “Just something I had to do.”

  Ah. This was more believable. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she’d hidden behind her back. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let her complete her mission.

  He exhaled, grimaced, then tossed a leather pouch to Mehmet. “Here’s your reward, walad. Now, be gone with you. Breathe a word of this to a soul and you can count on being Seth-Aziz’s next sacrifice.”

  “Yes, sir! I mean, no, sir!” Wide-eyed, the kid slammed his heels into the donkey’s sides and trotted off at full speed.

  “Reward?” Gillian said indignantly over the clatter of hooves. “You bribed him to rat me out?”

  “Better me than your future husband.” Rhys approached her and held out his palm. “Okay. Hand it over.”

  She backed away, lifting her chin. “What?”

  “Whatever you’re hiding from me.”

  She took another step backward. “No.”

  What made this woman believe she could be so damn defiant? And why did her feistiness only make him want her more than he already did?

  He ground his teeth, debating whether he should take her in his arms and kiss her to within an inch of her life, or put her over his knee and spank her. His cock stirred at the thought of doing either.

  But here was not the place.

  “Fine. Keep it. I’m going to shift now, and when I do, I want you to climb up. Do you hear me?”

  “You’re taking me back there?” she asked in alarm. Her breasts lifted and fell in rhythm with her quickened breaths. Distracting his gaze. And other parts of his body.

  He made up his mind. “Eventually. But first we’re going to my place.”

  Surprise lanced through her expression. “Won’t that be dangerous?”

  “Extremely.”

  “Then why?”

  He pressed his mouth into a thin line. How about that he’d rather go to his death than forfeit the chance to have her under him just one more time before giving her up for good?

  “Stupid, bloody question.”

  He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms, crushing his lips to hers. She let out a noise of surprise, then melted into hi
m. She whispered his name and it sounded like a prayer to the gods. She opened to him and she tasted like sweet, black cherries and dark, forbidden love. And in that instant, he knew he would do anything to have her. To keep her.

  Before he lost complete control, he whirled in a circle, chanting the powerful words that would turn him into al Fahl.

  She clung to him, burying her face in his hair, and swung onto the back of the stallion he’d become. Putting her life into his hands in more ways than one. He reared up, then started to gallop, devouring the miles of desolate sand to reach the secret wadi where his house lay hidden. He didn’t miss a beat when he shifted back, sweeping her into his arms and striding through the stables and the kitchen, past the startled servants, and straight to his bedroom.

  They tore at each other’s clothes, stripping one another naked as their mouths refused to relinquish the wet fusion of their kisses.

  “You’re mine,” he said over and over as they kissed and touched, and renewed their unspoken vows. “Mine. Mine.”

  “Yes. Oh, yes,” she moaned as he threw her onto the bed and mounted her in a single forceful movement. His cock scythed in, seeking the tight, wet heat of her. He grunted, holding back the explosive need to take her hard and fast. He wanted her to remember something better than mindless coupling for what might be their last time, if later things went badly.

  “Oh, Rhys,” she said breathlessly. “I was sure you didn’t want me anymore.”

  “How can you say that?” he groaned, pulling back to look into her eyes.

  “I haven’t seen you for two days. I thought you’d accepted Seth’s orders and given me up….”

  “Darling, I’ll always want you, and will never give up hope of having you for my own. I need you to know that absolutely, no matter what you hear about me, no matter what happens.”

  She wrapped her arms tightly around him. “You’re scaring me. You make it sound so dire. So final.”

  “Promise you’ll trust me, Gillian. Just promise me that.”

  “I do. I promise,” she whispered, concern etching her face. “What are you planning?”

  He smiled. “Right now, to make love to my woman,” he murmured, and started to thrust.

  He made it last, and he made it good. He used every trick he knew, physical and magical, to increase his own potency and her pleasure. He knew he was up against a formidable rival in Seth. Vampires possessed sexual powers unheard of in any other beings, and could gift her with more pleasure than Rhys ever hoped to. But he had one advantage that Seth didn’t.

  He had her love. And she his.

  And in the end that counted far more than all the erotic pleasures in the world.

  “They’re going to know, aren’t they?”

  Gillian’s insides fought a queasy battle between contentment and panic.

  It was hard not to feel amazingly good wrapped in Rhys’s arms, her body throbbing from the best sex she’d ever had in her life, her heart bursting with the knowledge that he truly loved her. He must, to take this kind of risk to be with her. But she couldn’t shake the insidious dread sneaking through her veins that Nephtys was even now watching them in the waters of her damned scrying bowl, Seth by her side, shouting orders to Sheikh Shahin to sharpen his sword for a beheading.

  Gillian didn’t know what she would do if any harm came to Rhys. She’d rather live through a loveless eternity than see him suffer because of her imprudent actions.

  Not that it was wrong to try and contact her sisters to let them know she was okay. Quite the opposite. But she should have waited. It would have been far better to sneak out and deliver her letter after all this drama with Seth had settled down.

  “They’ll know we made love, won’t they?” she repeated when Rhys didn’t answer. She glanced up at him.

  He was on his side, head resting on his palm over his bent elbow, gazing at her with an inscrutable look on his handsome face.

  And, lord, was he ever handsome. Smooth, angular features boasted long-lashed, slumberous eyes and sculpted lips. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his arms corded with strength, his chest muscular and ripped, his waist narrow and his horseman’s thighs hard as iron. Not to mention his long, thick stallion’s cock, ever at the ready to rise from its rest amid thick black curls.

  Just looking at the man’s nude body made her weak with desire, ready to spread her legs and beg him to take her just one more time.

  “Maybe,” he finally answered, making her scramble to remember what the question was. “Do you care if Seth knows we defied him?”

  She closed her eyes and stretched out on the bed. “Not at the moment. Ask me again when he’s about to drain all the blood from my body.”

  Rhys frowned. “Not remotely funny.”

  “Sorry.” She turned and nestled up against him. “It’s either that or cry. Up until now I’ve been trying my damnedest not to think about the future, but… What’s going to happen to us, Rhys? Seriously.”

  “I honestly don’t know. Seth could be merciful. We’ve been friends for a long time. And his interest in you seems more tied to Nephtys’s vision than any real attraction.”

  She sighed. “Duty. That’s what he called me.” She didn’t want Seth’s romantic interest, but still. That stung a little.

  “Don’t take it personally. He’s always been distant with women. Not much luck with females over the years.”

  “Which is why he sends you out to do his bidding.” She poked his ribs none too gently. “Mr. Charming Seducer.”

  “Hey!” He rolled her under him and wedged his hips between her thighs. “I think you will not have to worry about that any longer,” he said drily. “Even if I survive Seth’s displeasure, my days as master steward have no doubt run their course.”

  She gazed up at him, feeling love and guilt and distress all rolled into one giant lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, Rhys. I’m so sorry I’ve come between you and your friend. God! I wish I could go back to before all this started. Back to that day I was searching the gebel for your grave site with Mehmet. He told me not to go into that damn tomb, but would I listen?” She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Do you wish you had?” he asked softly. “Do you wish you’d taken his advice and never gone into that tomb? Never found the secret of Khepesh? Never met me?”

  She searched her heart. Did she?

  Oh, God, if she had the chance to do it all over again, would she choose to pass by that fateful tomb, and never be parted from her sisters? Never have to face an eternity as consort to a vampire? Never meet the man she would love until the end of time?

  She swallowed and felt the warmth of tears trickling down her cheeks. “No,” she whispered, knowing that having these few precious moments with him made all her future anguish worthwhile. “I would do everything exactly the same, every last minute.”

  Chapter 17

  I love you through the daytimes,

  In the dark,

  Through all the long divisions of the night…

  —Song on an Eastern Vessel

  Sunset was approaching as they left Rhys’s house, walking hand in hand to the meadow behind the stables. The air had cooled from the scorching heat of day to a pleasant evening warmth, and a soft breeze played with Gillian’s pale hair, messing it up even more than his fingers had earlier. She looked fragile, but oh, so beautiful.

  “I dread going back,” she said.

  So did he. “Then let’s stay out for a while longer.”

  The sky was a kaleidoscope of dazzling color. Oranges and pinks swirled in the west around the dying orb of the sun, topped by a meringue of blues and purples that melded into the indigo of the night sky to the east.

  It was the kind of sunset that begged to be enjoyed and revered, offered up to the gods as a token of earthly devotion.

  He shifted into al Fahl and she climbed on his back, and together they rode out into the vast desert, up to the highest point on the gebel.

  There they stood, the lone woman and
the wild beast she’d so thoroughly tamed, watching the ark of the sun be devoured by the mouth of the Night God. She stroked his equine neck with loving hands, like she had stroked his body as they’d made love earlier. He could feel her strong knees pressed into his ribs, her silky, bare thighs wrapped around him, the pushed-up hem of her dress an insubstantial flutter against his thick hide. The sultry heat from between her parted legs insinuated itself into his consciousness, bringing him to full erection. He could smell the scent of her, of him, of their intense and fevered sex, clinging to her skin, his own essence still deep within her, proclaiming her to all as his.

  As the last burning vestige of the sun was eclipsed by the black rim of the Western Desert, he raised his head and let out a powerful whinny, joining the chorus of jackals and wildcats and the other night creatures that greeted the darkness. All around the desert, the voices of the night lifted, a cacophonous noise to celebrate the daily defeat of the sun god Re-Horakhti to the sovereignty of Set-Sutekh, Lord of the Moon.

  Rhys felt Gillian shiver in fear at the unearthly sound and lean forward to cling to al Fahl’s mane. She didn’t know that no creature would dare harm her because she belonged to the per netjer of the Guardian of Darkness and rode the ghost stallion.

  He reared up, turning, and started the chant, catching her in his arms when she tumbled from her seat as he shifted back to human form.

  He kissed her deep and hard, and shoved her dress from her shoulders, peeling it down her body until she was naked before him. His arousal still throbbed for her, thick as a stallion’s and with a stallion’s appetite.