by Jill Myles
Damn the Itch. Damn damn damn.
“Hi,” I said, trying not to sound too breathy and failing miserably. I stepped outside my room and took the flowers, surprised by the gesture. “Why flowers?”
“Thank you, Zane,” he mimicked, grinning at me. When I blushed, he took my hand and brushed his fingertips across my knuckles before settling a kiss there. “I figured you’d be mad at me, so I brought these to make amends.”
It worked; I’d forgotten completely that I was pissed at him for the seduction stunt. But it had nothing to do with flowers. One smile from him, and I’d forgotten everything but the fact that he was gorgeous. That floppy lock of hair was falling over his forehead again, touching his eyebrow.
“I’m ready when you are,” I blurted. A blush touched my cheeks when I realized the double entendre.
He chuckled, a low, sensual sound that did terrible, wondrous things to my insides. “Glad to see it.” He still held my hand in his, his thumb caressing my skin. The feeling was carrying straight to unmentionable places on my body, and I was losing my sanity, fast. No doubt my eyes were blazing the hottest blue this side of the Caribbean.
I frowned as I realized something, staring into his dark, laughing eyes. “The red is gone.”
“Hmm?” Zane gave a gentle tug on my hand, pulling me into his arms. I went willingly. Actually, I shouldn’t say “willingly.” I should say “plastered my body against his and wrapped my arms around his neck.” All I could smell was the dizzy scent of blood and man and leather that made up Zane.
Zane’s hand came to rest on the curve of my lower back, reminding me that I had two guns strapped against my flesh and he wasn’t supposed to find out. I pulled away, an embarrassed flush heating my cheeks. “Your eyes,” I repeated. “They’re not red anymore.”
“No, they’re not. Unlike you, I have no problem with using others to satisfy a need, whether I like and respect them or not. Sometimes when the urge is upon you, anyone will do.” He shot me an oblique look, daring me to say something.
Offended, I stiffened and crossed my arms over my chest. So he’d gone and slaked his needs and left me hanging? Typical man. Typical vampire.
I opened my door and tossed the flowers inside. When I remained silent, he sighed.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
“Why do I need this?” I complained as Zane slid the burqa over my head and over my shoulders. The souvenir shop was hot enough without a heavy cloth covering me from head to toe.
“It’s for your own safety.” He smoothed the fabric down my body. “Nobody will look twice at you dressed in one of these; the way you were dressed was getting too much attention if we want secrecy.”
The burqa was designed to cover a woman from the prying eyes of men. This one was baby blue—a fashion choice, I assumed, since most of the others in the shop were unrelenting black. A thin mesh opening over the eyes allowed me to see out into the world. It was heavy and stifling, but I saw his point.
I sighed. “You should see the other stuff Remy packed.”
He handed me a disposable camera. “Remy is an idiot when it comes to suitable clothing. That woman doesn’t have a practical bone in her body.”
As Zane paid for the clothing, I went to the shop’s door to check out the Cairo nightlife. The streets were lit up despite the early hour of the evening, and still crawling with people of all shapes and sizes. Directly across the street was an antiques emporium.
Several men waited outside the shop, young, rough sorts with dirty clothing, and ugly smiles. They sat casually in front of the store, talking among themselves. One began to clean under his nails with a long knife.
As I watched, one gestured at the door of the souvenir shop and said something to one of his companions. The bearded man shrugged, then made a chopping notion across his throat. The other men laughed.
My throat suddenly dry, I swallowed hard, then said, “Um, Zane?”
He appeared at my side. “Yes?”
“Those men out there—”
“So you see them now.”
I faced him. “What do you mean, ‘now’? Have they been there the whole time?”
He steered me away from the door, whispering against my fabric-covered ear, “Slavers. They’ve been following us since the hotel, doubtlessly tipped off by someone who works there. You’d fetch a fortune with that red hair.”
Slavery in this day and age? I couldn’t imagine being sold into a brothel—it was too TV-movie-of-the-week.
“What do we do now?”
Zane rubbed my shoulder comfortingly. “We go out the back way.”
I slid my hand into his and allowed him to lead me past the counter. “Back door?” Zane calmly asked the sales clerk.
The shopkeeper pointed one finger toward the far end of the store, saying nothing.
Zane’s smile flashed across his face. “My thanks, friend.” He laid a handful of bills onto the counter. “You didn’t see any American women in here.”
“Egyptian women only,” the shopkeeper agreed, his eyes bright at the sight of the money.
Zane led me into a dirty storage room, cracked open the back door, and glanced out. “We’re clear. Just an alleyway filled with garbage.”
He led me through the filth-strewn alley, the burqa flapping around my legs. “How did you get that wad of money you gave him?”
“Same way I got rid of the red eyes. You want details?”
Ugh. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
He chuckled. “Someday you’ll get over that charming squeamishness of yours, Princess—and that’ll be a shame.”
I snorted in disbelief. “If that means you expect me to dive into your arms at some point, forget about it.” But just speaking the words aloud caused my body to throb.
Zane led me through a maze of dark alleys and back streets. I had no idea where we were and clutched his hand. If I got separated from him I’d have no idea how to get back to the hotel, and the thought of being alone and lost in a city where I could be nabbed by slavers was first and foremost in my mind.
The vampire seemed to know where he was going. We hailed a cab and took a wild ride through the streets to the outskirts of the city. There, he led me through the maze of streets until we came face to face with a pair of camels standing in a dark courtyard. One looked over at me, chewing hay with a stupid look on its face. “Here we are,” Zane announced.
I hesitated. “Don’t tell me—our transportation?” A nondescript man stood between the camels, holding their bridles with an expectant look.
Zane grinned in the darkness, his white teeth flashing. “How’d you guess?”
“A lucky hunch,” I said, my voice muffled through the burqa.
Zane handed the man a wad of bills, took the reins of the first camel, and got it to kneel. “Ladies first.”
I sighed and stepped forward. “Don’t these things spit?”
Zane grabbed me under the arms and helped me into the saddle. “They do. Just don’t provoke it and you’ll be fine.”
His hands on me caused my banked desire to burn full-blown once more. I lost track of my thoughts and clung to the blanket-covered saddle with my knees as the camel stood again. “No provoking. Gotcha.”
As Zane mounted his camel with expertise, I focused hard on things other than the Itch. Kittens. Puppies. Bottled Water. Hamburgers. Ice cream. Licking ice cream off Zane’s hard, flat stomach—
My mental imagery needed a little work if I was going to stay calm and cool. Though he was a jerk sometimes, he had a boyish charm. Except for the room-entering incident, I suspected Zane was being courteous in his own way. He’d stopped when I’d asked him to stop, he was concerned with my welfare, and he’d been helpful. Either he was a genuinely good guy with a bad rap, or he had something up his sleeve.
Zane turned to look at me. “Everything okay?”
“I’m fine.” If confused.
He tapped the rump of his camel with a crop. The camel lurched forward and began to head
out into the surrounding desert.
I thumped my legs against my camel’s sides, and it trotted after Zane’s mount.
Despite all his antics and issues, Zane had been someone I could count on since we got to Egypt.
“Zane?”
He turned to look back at me. “Yes?”
“Thanks. For everything.”
The grin that crossed his face was devilish. “You can thank me later—preferably between the sheets.”
I resisted the urge to throw my riding crop at his head.
Barely.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“We’re here.”
Frowning under the sweaty burqa, I gazed at the desolate landscape. “If by ‘here’ you mean the middle of nowhere, then I’d agree,” I said, halting my camel with a tug on the reins.
We’d passed a few small villages in the middle of the night, passed a few tourist attractions, and traveled deeper into the desert. At least I assumed it was the desert, because there was sand and cliffs and rocks. The Nile glittered behind us, my only hint that we were still along the river. Somewhere. We could be on the outskirts of Cairo still, and I wouldn’t have any clue.
Zane dismounted from his camel. “The tomb’s just a few hundred yards ahead. You might want to walk your camel in, since the footing’s a bit slippery.”
I slid off the side of my beast and fell into a heap on the ground. “Can I take off the burqa now? I’m dying of heat under here.” The veil was plastered to my forehead.
“That should be fine,” Zane said, stroking the nose of his camel to soothe the creature.
I yanked the baby-blue fabric over my head and wadded it into a ball, sighing with relief as the night wind touched my skin. I closed my eyes and tilted my face to the breeze. “That feels wonderful.” I cracked an eye and looked over at Zane. “Speaking of, it’s over eighty degrees out here and you’re still wearing the trench coat. What gives?”
He ignored me, leading his camel up the trail. “You wanted to see the tomb, right? It’s this way.”
I made a face at him. “Fine, fine. I’m coming.” Taking the camel’s reins in hand, I followed Zane up the sandy path—if you could call it that—between a pair of large dunes. There were no trees, no archaeological ruins, nothing to mark this spot of land as different from the rest of the desert, but Zane seemed to know where he was going.
On the other side of the dunes I saw a tall cliff wall of sandstone and granite in the distance. “Is her tomb in there?” I called.
Zane just turned and grinned at me. “Wait and see.”
A million or so sand-filled steps later, we stood at the base of the cliff. It didn’t look like a tomb. It didn’t look like anything, in fact, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Zane handed me the reins to his camel. “Be a good girl and find someplace to tether these, would you?”
Before I could retort, huge yellow camel-teeth snapped at my hair. I jerked away. “It’s amazing you’ve managed to last this long without some woman killing you, Zane.”
“Like you, Princess, I’m already dead.” He walked toward the rocky tumble at the foot of the cliff, scanning the ground for something.
I peered after him despite myself. Sucks really seemed to have the short end of the stick in the Afterlife; vamps had perfect night vision. Zane searched the tumble of rocks for a few minutes, taking his time. When it was obvious that we wouldn’t be making progress for a while, I went off in search of a hitching post.
The soil at the base of the cliff was covered with stones worn down from the cliff face long ago. It made walking treacherous, and I stubbed my toes a few times in my sandals, cussing the whole time. When I spotted an outcropping that looked slender enough to tie a rope around, I hurried over and secured the beasts.
As I returned to Zane, I heard a soft slither on sand, then a sibilant hiss.
I froze, hardly daring to turn my head, and saw a big cobra leering at me in the darkness, its tongue flicking, less than twelve inches from my bare leg and foot. I remained as still as possible, my hands twitching against my sides. Could I draw one of my guns without having the snake attack? Would the bullets even work on a snake?
Zane’s hand brushed my arm and I smothered a yelp. “Are you done playing around out here?” he said. “The tomb’s this way, and I only have until dawn.”
I pointed a trembling finger at the snake, which rose taller to knee height. “S-s-snake.”
He sniffed dismissively. “You’re afraid of that?” He squatted in front of the snake, stared at it, then stood. He took me by the elbow and steered me away from the snake, which remained frozen in place. “You’re an immortal, Princess. It won’t kill you.”
My gaze remained glued to the immobile snake. “It’d hurt like hell though.” The creature still did nothing—no tongue flicking, no biting, nothing. “What did you do to it?”
He grinned down at me like a mischievous little boy. “Charmed it. I’m an expert at charming, wouldn’t you say?”
Blood throbbed through me in a heady rush, and my knees went weak. I understood how the poor snake felt. Forcing myself to pry his fingers from my heated skin, I moved away. “You’re not as charming as you’d like to think.”
“No?” He slid his hands around my waist. “That sounds like a challenge to me.”
“Give it your best shot,” I scoffed. “I’m sweaty and I smell like camel. If you want to try to seduce me now, bring it.” Two could play his little game.
His hands slid upward, stroking my ticklish sides through my damp T-shirt. “Even with your hair plastered to your head, you’re still achingly beautiful, Jackie.” The light, feathery touches sent a flush of heat through me that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. “I like seeing you sweaty,” he whispered, pulling me closer until I was pressed against his jacket, my nipples brushing the leather and visible through my shirt. “I’d love to spend all night tasting your flesh. Licking you everywhere. Making you sweaty with need.”
Oh. My.
Like the cobra, I was entranced by the seductive words, helpless to pull away.
“Do you know where I’d kiss you first?” His fingertip slid to my mouth and parted my lips, seeking entrance to the hot well of my mouth. I took the tip of it between my lips and bit gently at it, entranced by the suggestion. “Not here,” he said softly, his reddening eyes locked onto my blue ones. “That’s where a conventional man would give his woman her first kiss. I’d want to give her something she remembers. Forever.”
His fingers brushed up the front of my chest to my breast. The backs of his fingers slid over the fabric there, gently teasing the aching peak into taut hardness. “I’d kiss her here,” Zane said, his mouth moving lower to follow his hand. “The skin is sensitive here, and sweet, like the most delicious of desserts.” His dark eyes stared up at me, waiting for me to tell him no, to protest or push away. But I didn’t.
His lips closed over my nipple, and he kissed me gently. Despite the fabric that separated my flesh from his mouth, I felt burned to my core. A low, aching gasp caught in my throat.
Zane moved across my chest to my other, neglected breast. “My second kiss would be here,” he said, teasing the second peak with the barest hint of tongue.
I thought I’d burst into a spontaneous orgasm right there. Heat throbbed between my legs, and my pulse pounded so loud I could barely hear his soft words. Zane slid lower down my body, until he was kneeling on the ground. His mouth hovered near the apex of my pelvis, scant inches away from the flesh that yearned for the same treatment.
“And the third kiss?” I asked, my breath catching in my throat.
He looked up at me, that delicious smile curving his beautiful mouth. “The third kiss, she has to ask for.”
I stumbled backward, breathing hard. “I’d, uh, like to see the tomb now.”
“Your wish is my command, Princess.” His mocking tease grated on my frayed nerves, but he got to his feet and dusted off his coat
like nothing had happened between us.
I wanted to weep at the unfairness of it. “I just want to get this done so I can go back to the hotel and take a shower.” A nice cold one.
Zane just laughed and took my hand. “This way, then.”
Zane’s lighter sparked, then flickered into a small thread of flame, illuminating the darkness around us. I sucked in my breath at the unnerving sight of his sharp features lit up in shadow. “Here we are.”
“Light something bigger, would you?” I rubbed my arms and stared around me at the dark hole that was Nitocris’s tomb. I clamped my jaw when it threatened to chatter; Zane would have totally made fun of me.
I’d settle for him wrapping his arms around me and chasing the fear out of me with a nice, steamy bout of sex. But a girl has standards to uphold … Damn Itch. I hated it and the way it messed with my mind.
The tomb was damn spooky. I wasn’t scared by much; I didn’t scream in horror movies, and I wasn’t even afraid to skydive. But this? This small, dusty tomb in the middle of the stifling desert? This hole of choking darkness, the heart of evil as I knew it?
Yeah, the tomb scared the hell out of me.
Outside, Zane had pointed out a small, square passage in the rock wall, the edges surrounded by archaic symbols of scarabs and ankhs that I recognized as Egyptian. He’d gestured for me to crawl down inside and I had, not knowing that the descent would be a hundred feet into the earth in a small, cramped passage where I couldn’t even stand upright, leading into total darkness.
I definitely hadn’t thought that one through.
I sneezed as dust tickled my nose, and rubbed my hand against my face, imagining spiders and creepy-crawlies hovering in the darkness. Ahead of me, the lighter flame spread as he held it against a rag-wrapped torch. To my vast relief, the darkness retreated a bit as he held the torch out to me. “Here you go, Princess.”
I took the outstretched torch, relieved. “Thanks for the light. It’s a bit creepy in here.”