by Tate James
My attention shifted back to Bast like I was at a tennis match, watching the ball volley back and forth. This last volley, hit by the spirit of one of Egypt’s greatest rulers... this one hit the mark. Bast’s beautiful face drained of color, and her golden eyes shot a quick glance at me.
Oh shit, they were talking about me!
“I...” Bast licked her lips, then shook her head in denial. “That night had nothing to do with this.” She waved a hand in my direction, but the panic all over her face told me that night did indeed have everything to do with this. And by this, she meant me.
“Um.” I raised my hand slightly. “I’d really like to know what happened that night. If anyone wants to fill in the gaps?”
Both glitteringly gorgeous women shot me a look, but it was Hatshepsut who obliged. Mostly, I think, to lord it over Bast, who was looking more and more uncomfortable.
“You offered me heqet, your very own blend. We were such good friends back then; what better way to forget my problems than to get drunk with good company, right, Bast?” She smirked. “But then Senenmut came looking for me, and what happened next?”
Bast shook her head again, and I ventured out on a limb.
“Uh, did you guys have a threesome? I was sort of getting that vibe from where this story was heading.” Neither of the women responded, but neither denied it either. “Ho-ly cats,” I breathed. “Am I... are you saying...” I waved my hand between the two of them, then mimed a bit of fucking. Just for good measure.
Hatshepsut shot me a grin, then turned her attention back to Bast. “The daughter of my heart is not the product of Ra. She’s the product of you, dear friend.”
“What. The. Fuck?” I blurted out my exclamation, but my shock had fucking nothing on Bast’s right now.
All the blood seemed to have returned to her face, and she was turning an odd shade of outrage. Yeah, that’s definitely a color.
“Watch out!” I shouted to the spirit of my mother, just moments before Bast’s blade sliced clean through her midsection.
Hatshepsut looked down, peering at her totally unblemished body, then shot Bast a smug smile. “I’m not here in physical form, Bastet. You can’t silence me like you did the last time we argued.”
“Maybe not,” Bast sneered, “but your love child is flesh and blood, and I just bet my blade will do some damage to her.”
Oh shit.
Bast suddenly bolted across the room—straight at me. She was no match for the speed of a spirit, though. Hatshepsut smashed into me with the full force of what seemed like a pretty damn physical body, knocking me backward and landing me on my ass with my back to the wall.
“Where did she go?” Bast shrieked, pausing as she stood over me to whip her gaze around the room. “Where is that bitch?”
“Huh?” I replied, blinking at the weird double vision I was experiencing. “What are you...” I trailed off as my hands braced on the floor and pushed me smoothly to my feet. Totally without my guidance. My old English lit professor used to bang on and on about independent body movements, but this? This was the perfect example. My body was no longer in my control, and I was shit scared.
“Looking for someone?” I asked, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t say that! Yet it was my lips that moved and my voice that came out, and oh my cats, I’m being possessed!
Bast sneered, looking at me with total contempt. “Sneaky trick, Hatshepsut. But this just means I can kill you both at the same time.” She slashed with her knife, and it clashed against mine.
Wait, what? Where the fuck did I get a knife?
In my panic, I somehow regained a flicker of control. Just enough to look down at myself and find my jeans, tank, and denim jacket fading out, being replaced by the linen, gold, and beaded thing that Hatshepsut’s spirit had been wearing. I guess that explained where the knives had come from? Both my hands—still with the chipped, glitter nail polish—gripped a foot-long, deadly sharp dagger with scary level confidence.
That small moment of inspecting myself gave Bast an opening, and her single blade slashed across my bare upper arm, opening a stinging slice in my flesh.
Holy fucking cats, that hurt!
“Stop it,” my own voice snapped at me. “You’ll get yourself killed like that. Just let me deal with this.”
As hard as it was to relinquish control of my own freaking body, she kind of had a point. All I wanted to do was howl in pain at that cut on my arm, so I could only imagine how painful getting shish-kebabbed would be. Yep, let’s let the professionals handle this one.
In fact, maybe I should take some notes. One thing was for damn sure, if I made it out alive, then the guys needed to teach me to defend myself. This damsel in distress bullshit was bullshit.
My body dodged out of the way of Bast’s weapon, taking my back away from the wall and giving “me” some room to maneuver within.
“Come and get it, kitty,” my voice taunted the ancient goddess, and I snorted a mental laugh. Guess I now knew where I got my snark from. Mom was a badass. Which she then proved over and over and freaking over as her and Bast faced off in what had to be a battle of epic proportions.
I was desperate to know what was going on with the guys, but didn’t dare break Hatshepsut’s concentration to check on them. Judging by how many mummies I’d seen surrounding them before, they would be busy for a while.
If they were still alive.
Fuck, what if they’d been overpowered? Bast had said those mummies were indestructible!
Without meaning to, my eyes shot across the room, searching out the three cat shifters who’d sworn to protect me. Thankfully, they were all still alive and kicking. Just, several patches of the stone floor showed bright red puddles of blood, and I was pretty confident mummies didn’t bleed.
“Fuck!” I screamed as Bast’s blade nicked my exposed side, and I immediately retreated into the back seat of my own mind again.
“Sorry!” I mentally apologized to my mother. “I won’t do it again. I was just really worried and—”
“It’s fine,” her scratchy voice replied inside my head. “The guardian bond is powerful. It’s nice to see that it’s survived all these years.”
I suspected there was more of a story there, but I wasn’t risking my own skin by pressing her while she was in the middle of a high speed knife fight.
It was minutes later that Hatshepsut finally managed to get the upper hand, and Bast’s blade skittered across the stone floor out of her reach. Not a second too soon, as well. Despite Hatshepsut’s insanely impressive knife-fighting skills, she was still working with my physical body. A physical body that was not even remotely conditioned for this level of activity. All my muscles ached and screamed in pain, and a quiver was building in my arms.
When Hatshepsut tripped Bast in a well-placed leg swing, something in my back popped, and I whimpered silently. So much for never having to visit a gym again... I got the feeling my newfound magic was just the beginning of a long ,hard slog with a personal trainer. Probably a mean, snappy, brutish dickhead of a trainer. Named Raze.
“You can’t kill me,” Bast sneered, blood flecking her lips from where we had punched her in the mouth moments ago. “Not in your daughter’s body. You wouldn’t curse the child of your heart like that.”
I sensed Hatshepsut’s resignation and wondered what the fuck that was all about. Would I be cursed for killing Bast? Like, actually cursed? Or was that a figure of speech in one of those, “This isn’t over!” sort of ways?
“You’re right,” Hatshepsut said in a soft, regret-filled voice, “but I can’t leave you free to try this again.”
She—we—drew in a deep breath and tapped into something deep inside me. Something warm and comforting and familiar. It glowed bright in my mind and slowly grew to encompass my whole form. Only when every inch of me was bathed in that beautiful light did it reach out and touch my amulet.
When that happened, Hatshepsut slammed one of her knives down into Bast’s chest. But it was st
ill my hand holding the knife. It was still my hand that felt the resistance of flesh, muscle, bone. The spongy tearing of the blade piercing her heart, then coming out the other side and sticking into the stone.
Just how fucking hard Hatshepsut must have driven it in, I couldn’t even comprehend, but it was what happened next that prevented me from losing my mind and vomiting everywhere.
Bast’s body seemed to drown in that light emanating from me, then that same light slowly began retreating into the amulet... taking her with it.
Moments later, I crouched alone on the floor, clutching a bloody dagger stuck into a floor tile, but Bast was nowhere to be seen.
Nor, it seemed, was my ancient mother’s ghost.
“Hello?” I whispered, testing my voice to check that I was indeed back in control of my own body. Yep. There it was, out loud. “Hatshepsut?” I tried again, releasing the dagger and looking around frantically. “Mom?” I tried again. “Where are you?”
Nothing.
No ghosts popping out from behind anything and yelling “Surprise!”
No crazy, murderous goddesses trying to slice my head off.
No hordes of reanimated mummies trying to eat my brains. Did mummies eat brains? No, that was just zombies.
Down at the other end of the slightly trashed burial chamber, my three guardians looked just as confused as me. Shreds of bandages lay scattered all around them. Chunks of mummy were everywhere, but none of pieces moved. It was like the life had just been yanked out of them all, and suddenly they were just... dead dudes.
Actually, that’s exactly what just happened.
“Are you guys okay?” I called out, stumbling as I pushed to my feet, then steadying myself with a hand on a pillar. The gold beads on my skirt brushed over a graze on my thigh as I moved, and I hissed with pain.
Ah shit. Gold beads? Skirt? Fucking Hatshepsut had stolen my denim!
Boden shifted back into human form and met me halfway, grabbing me in a quick hug before pushing me to arm’s length and scanning my whole body with his eyes.
“Are you okay, beautiful?” he asked with a cautious frown. “You were... ah...” He waved his hand in the air, like he was totally lost for words. Huh, wasn’t that cute? I’d rendered Boden speechless.
“Totally badass?” I grinned, finishing for him. “I wish I could claim credit for that one.” His brows shot up, and I shook my head. “I’ll explain later over shots. Uh, are they okay?” I indicated to Raze and Hunter, both still in beast form but watching us carefully.
Boden gave them a glance, then nodded. “They’re fine. Just took a few injuries that will prevent them from shifting until they replace some energy. Uh, this is an interesting costume change.” He tugged on my black, braided, and beaded hair, which showed beneath a heavy, striped headdress.
“Ugh, good point,” I muttered, peeling it off my head and wondering how in Egyptian Hell it had stayed put throughout that entire fight scene.
When it was off, Boden heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh good,” he murmured, running his fingers through my hair and ruffling it. “That was a wig.”
“Huh?” I looked down at the headdress in my hand and noticed it had a wig attached. My own hair—shoulder length, chemically straightened, and obnoxiously hot pink—was still there on my head. “Damn.”
Boden grinned. “I like the pink. It’s very you.”
I scowled at him, then looked around us. “Okay, any bright ideas on how the fuck we get out of here?”
“No, but I know someone who can help.” He took me by the hand and led me across the room, behind where Hatshepsut’s open sarcophagus sat, and stopped us in front of an ornately carved stone block. Possibly the same one I’d smacked my head on when we arrived.
Using some seriously impressive strength, Boden pushed the top of the block, and it slid open, proving that it was a box, not a block. Inside, though, was a rather pleasant surprise.
“Well hello, Scarface,” I said, grinning down at the rather squished cultist. “You said he was a sorcerer, didn’t you?” I asked Boden, and he nodded.
“Raze stashed him here when all the madness started with the, uh, the mummies. Wow, I never thought I’d say that.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking exhausted. “Anyway, silver linings. Axle’s specialty is portals.”
“Fuck you, I’m not helping you!” the tattooed cultist snarled, but I think deep down he knew he was going to need to. It was either that or starve to death in the bottom of a pyramid with the rest of us.
So, you know, lots of good options there!
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hunter gave me a stupidly sexy pout, reclining on my huge pile of pillows like a magazine spread with a corner of sheet just barely covering his dick. Damn, I was tempted to yank it off, but then I’d be even later than I already was.
“Come on, Cleo-babe,” he coaxed. “Five more minutes? I’ll make it worth your while.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I grinned.
“Five minutes my ass, Crocodile Hunter,” I snickered.
He gave me a sly smile. “Your ass? No, we need more than five minutes for that. You’ll just have to cancel your plans and stay in with me.”
I leaned over him, snatching my bra off the lamp and dropping a quick—okay, not so quick—kiss on his lips.
“Nice try,” I murmured back when our mouths separated. “But I’m not falling for it. You’ve already made me too late to wash my hair, but I can’t go without a shower.”
I evaded his attempt to pull me back into bed and slipped into the adjoining bathroom. I left the door open so we could still chat, though, and heard him laugh as I cranked the shower taps.
“Are you sure?” he called out with an edge of teasing. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having my scent on your skin. It’s like a fine perfume.”
I rolled my eyes as I jumped under the still cold water, then hurried to soap up with the bar of organic, unscented goat milk soap Boden had gifted me.
“Other shifters would disagree,” I shouted back, rinsing the suds from my body and jumping back out. “Besides, weren’t you supposed to be at some top secret Alliance meeting about half an hour ago?”
I poked my head back into the bedroom just in time to see him pick up my phone to check the time, then fly out of the bed like his ass was on fire.
“Catch you later, babe,” he said, stopping to kiss me with his pants still undone and his shirt only halfway on. “Don’t stay out too late; I’ll worry.”
I rolled my eyes as he ran his fine ass out of my house. I’d already given up reminding him that he didn’t actually live here with me; it was falling on totally deaf ears. Hunter, it seemed, had a horrific case of selective hearing.
A few moments later I was doing up my bra when Boden poked his head into my room.
“He forgot the meeting, didn’t he?”
I snickered a laugh. “Of course. What’s the time?”
Boden checked his watch. “A full five minutes after you were supposed to leave. You almost ready?”
“Ugh!” I ran over to my wardrobe and grabbed the first dress my fingers fell on. “Help me zip?” I shimmied into the tight black dress and turned my back to Boden.
His fingers brushed over the freshly inked hieroglyphics down my spine as he zipped me into the garment, then dropped a soft kiss on the side of my neck. “I love that new tattoo,” he told me with a small growl under his voice. “Raze can wait a few more minutes, can’t he?”
The possessive way his hands gripped my hips left no room for wondering what he wanted to do with that time. Horny cat.
“Yeah, sure. A few minutes.” My voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Why do you think I’m so late as it is?”
Boden sighed, but released me to finish getting dressed for my date with Raze.
Yes, that’s right, you’re not imagining things. I was going on a date with Raze. In the month since my showdown with Bast, it’d become pretty clear that Raze was not down with the polyamo
rous lifestyle. Shit, huh? On the upside, he also wasn’t cool with bowing out and letting Hunter and Boden have all my... er... time. So we were just taking things slowly.
Result: date night.
Which I was getting later for by the minute.
“Shoo,” I scolded Boden. “Tell Raze I’ll be down in seven and a half minutes.”
Boden nodded, kissing me on the bare shoulder before clattering down my awesome, old wooden stairs.
When we’d returned from nearly dying inside a freaking pyramid, there had been a whole load of questions waiting for us. Not only had some helpful shifter cleaned up the wreckage of my truck and turned in all our wallets—with IDs—they’d also discovered the burnt-out safe house. Apparently, Boden was supposed to keep them informed of these things and hadn’t.
After the Alliance was satisfied with our tale of events, they let us go. But not without a million warnings and ominous threats that I was pretty positive were just posturing. They didn’t know what to do with me—and I hadn’t told them anything that Hatshepsut had revealed of my origin—so for lack of any better ideas, we’d been released.
As an apology for my poor Candy Jack being wrecked on the side of the road somewhere, Hunter had insisted on buying me a house. The idea that I was essentially homeless was just not working for him, but I couldn’t swallow the extravagant mansions he’d kept sending me on real estate websites.
Instead, I’d settled on a crumbling, derelict, old hotel from 1916. The place was insane with all original woodwork and an incredible history. It had needed a huge overhaul to get it livable, but with the help of a few shifter tradespeople, it had all been done in a week.
Now I was the proud owner of a gorgeously restored, possibly haunted, former hotel in my home state of Oregon.