Shadow of the Sheikh

by Nina Bruhns

  Nephtys met his gaze sympathetically. “You’re right, of course. Anything is better than never seeing your loved ones again.”

  Seth shot her a sharp glance, held it for a millisecond, then turned to him. “Go to your woman, Shahin. Talk some sense into her. But I grow impatient. I’ll expect word from you before nightfall.”

  Shahin inclined his head. “I am your humble servant, my lord.”

  Then he strode out to find Gemma and stop her from sealing herself into an unhappy fate that would please no one.

  Least of all himself.

  It didn’t take Shahin long to locate Gemma. She had gotten completely turned around in the pitch blackness of the access tunnels, as he’d known she would, and had doubled back on herself. One must be an initiate of the Guardian of Secrets and Darkness to find one’s way through the stygian labyrinth of the hidden desert entrance to Khepesh Palace.

  He heard her muttering from yards away.

  “I swear to God, I will never do anything impetuous ever again. And just freaking shoot me if I ever look at another tall, dark, handsome stranger.”

  Despite everything, he felt himself smile and halted, letting her rant. “This is so not happening. I am just having one long, very weird nightma—”

  Suddenly her grumbling stopped in mid-word and he heard her suck in a breath. The air around him shivered.

  There was another curse. Then, “There’s no use hiding from me, Shahin,” she ground out. “I can feel you lurking out there.”

  Again, waves of shivers came from her, rolling over his skin with a tingling sensation, which was strange. He’d never had a mortal’s energy reach out to him before.

  He waved a hand and a wall torch sprang to life. Gemma stood in the middle of the tunnel rubbing her hands up and down her arms. She took an involuntary step backward.

  “I’m not going back there,” she said curtly, her spine going pike straight. “You said I must go to Khepesh of my own free will, but not that I would have to join the cult to do so.”

  He tipped his head at her. “What did you think it meant?” he asked, feeling an edge of impatience. “Did you really think that after you entered the secret gateway of the palace we could ever let you go again? You must join us, kalila. Or…”

  “Or what?”

  He pressed his lips together. “You would not like the alternative.”

  “And what is that?”

  His irritation got the better of him. “To become a shabti,” he bit out.

  She looked taken aback. “One of those blue faience figurines they find by the thousands in ancient Egyptian tombs?”

  “In essence,” he affirmed, “except alive. A shabti is a person who has been robbed of his or her will and individual personality, and exists but to serve his or her master. In this case, Seth-Aziz.”

  It was like he had physically struck her. “That’s horrible! You do that to people?”

  He shook his head. “Not at Khepesh. Not anymore, other than as a very last resort, if there is no other way to ensure the safety of our people. We would far rather have someone who has learned our secrets become one of the shemsu, a valuable member of our community. We abhor the practice of slaves.”

  “But if I refuse to join of my own free will, that’s what will happen?”

  He wasn’t going to lie, and anyway, it was best she knew the truth. “Yes,” he said. Perhaps knowing the consequence of refusal would finally bring her into line.

  Naturally, it didn’t.

  Anger washed across her face. “Nice of you to tell me before I learned your secrets.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. I’ve explained all of this. We are your destiny, Gemma, one way or the other. I’d hoped you wouldn’t see it as a bad fate. That you might choose to…to be with me, all on your own.”

  The words were out before he could stop them. By the cock of Min! Be with him? Had he lost his mind?

  Luckily, she thought so, too. “Be with you? For how long?”

  “As long as I wish to keep you,” he snapped.

  Her face told what she thought of that. But she tried logic rather than emotion.

  “Regardless, you can’t expect me to abandon my life in America. I have friends, a job, responsibilities. I can’t just disappear and leave them.”

  “You can and you will. Of course you’ll have to write letters, explaining that you’ve decided to remain in Egypt.” He schooled his impatience and took a step toward her, driven by some urge he didn’t understand. “You could say you’ve met a man and fallen in love and he asked you to stay.”

  She stared at him, her eyes suddenly shuttered by wary uncertainty. “Are you?” she blurted out. “Asking me to stay?”

  He came partially to his senses and took another step toward her. “Have you? Fallen in love?”

  She licked her lips. He felt another tingle wash across his skin. “Don’t be ridiculous. I barely know you, Shahin.”

  She was lying, which explained why his harsh words had hurt her earlier. The trouble was, he didn’t know if he really meant them. Bored? He couldn’t ever imagine being bored by this woman.

  And that scared the hell out of him. How could this have happened to either of them so quickly?

  “That’s not an answer,” he said.

  “It’s the only one you’re getting,” she said and turned to walk away.

  He closed the distance between them, spun her around and slapped his hands on the wall to either side of her shoulders, trapping her. “You don’t seem to understand. Life as you knew it before is over. I’m trying to make this transition as easy for you as I can, offering you something else instead. Something we can both enjoy, together.”

  “What about my wishes? And the wishes of my sister?”

  “It was you who sought me out, Gemma,” he reminded her tersely. “As for your sister, that was not my decision.”

  She glared at him. “Just following orders?”

  “Not about you.” And wasn’t that the truth. He gripped her chin and kissed her. Hard. She resisted at first but couldn’t hold out against the power of their attraction. She melted into him.

  He wrapped his arms around her and broke the kiss. “I want you with me, Gemma.” For the long or short term, it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that he possessed her. “I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

  He felt her fingers curl into his bisht. “But only if I join your cult.”

  Mithra’s balls she was stubborn!

  “We are not a cult,” he ground out. “Yes, we serve Set-Sutekh but not as fanatics. You can keep your convictions if you but serve him, too.”

  “How can you expect me to be happy spending eternity serving a god I don’t believe in?” she argued.

  He could see her inner struggle, but it was so unnecessary.

  “Don’t you?” he asked. “Do you not believe in the darkness of the night sky and the strength of the wind in your face, and the truth that chaos rules the world? Even your Western mathematicians bow to the Lord of Chaos with their theories of the universe.”

  “Not exactly,” she said, objecting to his characterization.

  “Yes, exactly,” he persuaded. “We don’t worship Set-Sutekh as an idol or even as a being, but we revere him as a symbol for the aspects of the world over which he rules. I told you, I am a Christian and I believe in one God. But I also believe there are many facets to that God and the limitless universe of His Creation. We at Khepesh serve one small part of the Unknowable Whole, that’s all.”

  She shook her head. “But wind, darkness and chaos? Even if I completely understood what you are saying, I would not choose to serve those aspects.”

  He smiled and let her slip away from his embrace. “Without darkness there is no light. Without chaos, no order. They are two halves of one coin, kalila. To honor the one half is to honor the other equally, and to be in awe of the amazing rightness of God’s Great Plan.”

  She gazed up at him for several heartbeats, digesting al
l that. He could see she was beginning to understand his philosophy of acceptance. “You are a wise man, Sheikh Shahin Aswadi,” she said at length.

  “I have had a long time to ponder such things,” he allowed. “And intelligent, thoughtful people to discuss them with over the years. I look forward to doing so with you.”

  “A very wise man,” she continued, almost unhappily, “to tempt me with the prospect of interesting philosophical discussions, on top of your flawless body.”

  His smile curved. “I generally like to be on top, but in your case I could be persuaded to make an exception.”

  Her serious expression eased and a mutual thrum of electricity hummed through their bodies. About this, at least, they shared the same beliefs.

  “You also have a very one-track mind.”

  He shrugged eloquently. “I am a man.” But he sensed he had won her over. “Seth-Aziz awaits us, kalila. Will you come and meet him now?”

  She swallowed. “I need to know you won’t leave me.”

  For the first time, he didn’t feel the need to hedge his answer. “I won’t leave you alone. I swear.”

  Just as long as she didn’t have betrayal on her mind. A small but necessary qualification.

  “What will happen to me?” she asked, pulling him out of his sudden cascading doubts.

  He refocused. “Nothing today,” he assured her. “You must be taught our ways, and there are rituals to be organized. For now, your word is enough. But I must warn you, to break a promise to the demigod means death.”

  She drew in a calming breath and nodded. “I understand.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “No, I’m terrified.”

  He took her hands in his and kissed them. “I promise, in the future you’ll be glad for this day.”

  “I hope so,” she whispered. “I truly hope so.”

  Chapter 15

  Gemma’s heart beat painfully when she found herself on her knees at the Great Western Gate for the second time that day. But this time, when Seth-Aziz bid her rise and enter the per netjer, she didn’t bolt like a scared rabbit.

  Probably a huge mistake, but there you go.

  Of her own volition she was to become one of Set Sutekh’s shemsu. And not because she had no choice.

  Or because her sister had. She was unbelievably nervous and frightened over her decision. But under her very real fear, a hum of excitement stirred within her. She wanted this. She did.

  She was an ethnographer, a specialist in the myth and lore of Egypt. She’d been given an impossibly rare opportunity not only to observe a five-thousand-year-old living mythology, but also to become a part of it herself. Not to mention immortal! Although she would believe that part when she saw some hard evidence. It was difficult to accept such a thing could really be true. Then again, she had also doubted the magical spells and shape-shifting, of which she had seen abundant evidence.

  But the real reason behind her excitement was the handsome, irresistible Sheikh Shahin. A man she felt such a deep connection with that despite his denial of returning those feelings, she was willing to give up her entire former life for the possibility of getting to know him better. And maybe change his mind.

  Talk about a magic man.

  She walked through the monumental gate toward him, but Seth-Aziz stepped forward to greet her instead. He was tall, taller than Shahin by a few inches, his shoulders nearly as broad. His hair was black and his eyes as well. His face was square-jawed and handsome, if a shade stern. Seth was an impressive man. Physically at least.

  And powerful. Very powerful. As the vampire approached, his otherworldly power rolled over her like a heavy wave of sleepiness, a satin wind that was thick and warm, like the darkness of midnight against her skin. Oddly calm and neutral, but definitely there, ebbing and flowing like the bulge of a tide waiting for the moon to shift.

  Spooky. And relaxing in an even more alarming way.

  She gathered her courage as Shahin made the formal introductions.

  “Welcome, Gemma,” the vampire priest said, and held out his arm to her. “Let us walk.”

  Shahin nodded encouragingly. She made an awkward sort of bow, as she’d seen others do for him. “Yes, okay.”

  Hesitantly, she laid her hand over Seth-Aziz’s, stifling a gasp at the wave of physical sensation that curled through her at his touch, and tried not to trip as he led her into the palace. The throng of onlookers parted, making a path for them down the wide, stone-paved corridor.

  The interior of the palace was even more magnificent than its silver-gated entrance. Elegant, fire-burning torches lit their way as she and Seth-Aziz walked past soaring papyrus-shaped columns, elaborate stone-carved reliefs, gorgeous painted murals depicting scenes of the gods and secular life aboveground, luxurious tapestries hanging from the walls, and a collection of glass and precious metal objects and marble statuary that would have any museum doing cartwheels just to see, let alone own. It was all spectacular, and gawking at everything nearly had her forgetting where she was…and that she was holding the arm of a vampire.

  Shahin walked behind her, alongside the red-haired woman Gemma had noticed earlier, a priestess named Nephtys who had been introduced as Seth-Aziz’s sister. She could hear her lover’s steady footsteps following, reassuring her of his presence.

  A few moments later they arrived at a soaringly large room flanked by more rows of glittering silver columns and headed by a raised dais where two elaborate silver thrones sat. An audience chamber, perhaps?

  They went through a side door, into a more intimate room containing a scatter of tasteful furnishings and a sideboard that held plates of snacks and urns of drinks. Shahin closed the door after the four of them entered.

  Seth-Aziz gestured at a cozy furniture grouping for her to sit. She waited until he took a seat on a silk-covered divan before perching on the edge of a matching chair opposite. Nephtys sat next to him.

  “So, I trust by this development that you are over your misgivings about us,” Seth said, his voice mild.

  “Not completely,” she admitted, possibly foolishly. But he didn’t seem to be holding a grudge.

  Thankfully, his lips twitched. “Sheikh Shahin warned us you are stubborn and skeptical.”

  “Family traits, I’m afraid,” she said, watching as Shahin strolled to the sideboard and poured wine into four heavy silver goblets.

  Seth shot her a look and the tide of energy in the room swelled noticeably. His power swirled around her, rubbing at her body like a great, invisible animal. His eyes glowed black as obsidian. “Yes, I am quite aware of that,” he said, not quite as mildly.

  Her sister Gillian had no doubt already tested the limits of the man’s beneficence.

  “Our father taught us from before we could walk to question everything in the world,” Gemma explained. “He was never more pleased than when we balked at his parental orders and asked ‘why’ so he could lecture…er, persuade us of his reasoning, using the best Socratic method.”

  That seemed to smooth Seth’s ruffled feathers. He smiled wryly as he accepted two goblets of wine from Shahin and passed one to Nephtys.

  “How tedious for you,” the priestess said, holding the goblet delicately between her fingers. “And your mother? Did she approve of such a scientific approach to child rearing?”

  A prick of the old pain pierced Gemma’s heart. “My mother died when I was young.”

  Seth took a sip of his wine, exchanged glances with Shahin and Nephtys, who both nodded slightly, then he turned his gaze back to Gemma. She shivered, again swamped by a brush of power, and her own uncertainty.

  His next words shocked her. He said, “No, I don’t think she did die.”

  Gemma blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Seth-Aziz looked directly at her and said, “The Lady Gillian found evidence in our library that your mother, Isobelle Haliday, may still be alive.”

  Stunned, Gemma shot to her feet. “What?”

  Naturally she remembered Gillian
’s note with its similar message. The handwritten note Shahin and his ghost riders had delivered, the one that had started this whole bizarre adventure. Incredible news—our beloved mother may still be alive. I am following every clue to find out the truth about her disappearance. It had lived in her heart every moment since. But she never dared hoped it was really true.

  “You know something about my mother?” she demanded of Seth-Aziz, forgetting momentarily with whom she was speaking.

  But the demigod seemed to understand and forgive her urgency. “She was kidnapped by Haru-Re,” he stated, “and taken to Petru, the per netjer of the Sun God, Re-Horakhti, our enemy. There is a good chance that she still lives.”

  Tears flooded Gemma’s eyes and she made a choking sound. Omigod! Her mother really could be alive? She covered her mouth with trembling fingers, hopeless to stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks.

  Two strong arms enveloped her in a warm hug. It was just what she needed. She let herself be drawn into the comfort of Shahin’s embrace. “It’s okay,” he murmured, pulling her against his chest. “This is a good thing, yes? That she may be alive?”

  Gemma gave a watery nod, burying her face in his robes. “I’m just… Oh, God, Shahin, didn’t you say Khepesh is on the brink of war with Petru? My mother could be in danger! I have to get her out of there!”

  “You will do nothing of the kind,” Seth interjected sternly.

  A thousand scattered thoughts blasted through her mind, all ending in alarm. She pulled away from Shahin and looked over at the demigod. “But I must—”

  “If anyone is going to mount a rescue, it will be the captain of my guard,” Seth said forcefully. “Not a woman, and certainly not a mortal. You are my subject now and you will obey me. Is that understood?”

  She bristled and opened her mouth to object, but Shahin squeezed her shoulders, giving her an unmistakable sign to keep it shut. “Yes, I understand,” she made herself say, then pressed, “But…does that mean you have plans to rescue her?”