So hurry to see your lady,
Like a stallion on the track...
—Late Period love song
“She is close. So close I can smell the sweet scent of her woman’s blood.”
Rhys turned to Seth and let his lips curve in a smile. “Indeed.” Rhys could smell her, too. Not her blood, but a faint tracing of flowers and vanilla-scented skin. Lovely. Arousing. “What would you have me do with her, my lord? Frighten her away, or...?”
Seth paced across the malachite council-room floor, his tall warrior’s frame erect, his face betraying no emotion that Rhys could discern. “She must not be allowed to find that inscription if it brings your curious descendents down upon us.”
“I agree. That would be a disaster.” They’d already had one too-close call back in the twenties, when that pompous American archaeologist nearly discovered their secret eastern entrance.
A soft rumbling reached the room from the far-off surface, more of a vibration in their minds than a real sound. They both glanced up in surprise.
“Good God. She’s found the entrance,” Rhys said, his stomach dropping. He’d arranged for the boy, one of his mortal familiars, to lead her to the hidden tomb, hoping the plain-rock antechamber would put an end to her curiosity. He’d never expected her to discover the secret way in.
“And by finding it, she has decided her fate,” Seth said.
“Shall I set her capture in motion?” Rhys asked cautiously. The alternative would not be a pleasant one for her. He would fight it, if it came to that.
“You’ve seen this woman?” Seth asked, clasping his hands behind his back. Meeting Rhys’s eyes.
“From a distance,” he granted. “She looked... dusty.” Which was the truth, if not the whole of it. For some reason, dust and all, the woman intrigued Rhys. Even now, he could feel the rhythm of his heart increase at the thought of her.
Seth’s brows moved infinitesimally. “And she’s a foreigner, you say.”
“American, I believe. Tall, pale, and blond. She was with two other women down at the ruined temple of Sekhmet. Sisters, my informant tells me.”
The other man’s black eyes glowed with obvious interest. “Hmm. A blonde to replace the shabti Haru-Re stole from me last month.”
“Yes. Or she would make a fine initiate. She seems intelligent. Respectful.” And had the right color hair. Which was why she’d attracted Rhys’s attention in the first place, when he’d heard about the three beautiful foreign women. Seth was partial to blondes, and accessible ones were rare in this part of the world, off the beaten tourist path as they were. Especially in these days of random, violent political terrorism.
Of course, now that she’d discovered Khepesh’s secret entrance, there was little choice in the matter.
“True. I could use her for the Ritual of Transformation,” Seth said thoughtfully. “And if I like her, take her as my consort. I miss having a helpmate at my side.”
Rhys fought a scowl. That would change things. If Seth claimed her, the woman would be off-limits to Rhys, on pain of banishment, or even death. Not exactly what he’d had in mind. Being the demigod’s master steward had many advantages. But it sometimes involved a bit of frustration. Rhys was also partial to blondes. At least this one.
“The transformation ceremony,” he said, deliberately downplaying the consort idea. “Yes, why not. If Nephtys gives her blessing, of course.”
The rumbling of the entrance stone ceased abruptly.
Seth looked up again. “But is it really wise to take her?” he asked with a frown that in no way disguised his desires in the matter. “Foreigners do bring a welcome change, but they are always such a risk. Especially if there’s family who will miss them.”
“Not an insurmountable difficulty,” Rhys assured. There were ways of dealing with troublesome relatives, if necessary. As long as they were here in Egypt. “I believe she only has the two sisters. And they are easily bespelled.”
Young women were especially susceptible to...influence.
“Perhaps an accident would be more prudent.”
“You did say to increase our number,” Rhys argued reasonably, when what he really wanted to do was shout, No! You will not harm her! “And fresh blood for the ceremony would be a good thing for you.”
“Yes.” Seth’s expression resolved. “Then go quickly, my friend. Assess the situation. Use your considerable charm to bring this woman willingly to our side. But if it turns into more trouble than she’s worth, take care of her.” His gaze pierced Rhys’s. “We don’t need any more problems right now.”
“Yes, my lord.” Rhys bowed his head, turned, and strode from the room.
A thrum of excitement buzzed through him. For the past few days the woman had been wandering too close for comfort to their underground palace, so he had decided to arrange an encounter through his informant. The boy had been strangely reluctant to expose her, so Rhys had gone out earlier to subtly remind him of the consequences of failure.
The woman had spotted Rhys as he’d gazed down at her in anticipation. Even from high atop the gebel, he’d felt a charge of electricity from the way she’d returned his perusal.
Awed. Worshipful. Like she wanted to wrap her thighs around him and ride all day.
She would be no shabti, he thought determinedly.
She would make a fine prize for the god—and afterward, for himself. Rhys would see to it that the ceremony did not damage her. As for becoming Seth’s consort, well, Rhys would simply have to find someone else for that role.
This woman was his.
Black robes flying and boot heels clicking a determined tattoo on the hallway’s marble floor, he quickly made his way through the Great Western Gate and the winding tunnels that led to a rock-hewn stairway and the world above. When he burst out from the well-concealed opening, high up on the gebel where no human would dare climb, he gathered his robes and spun in a swift circle, chanting the magical words of the spell that Nephtys had gifted him on the night of his transformation. The powerful words that would change his human flesh into his immortal form.
The stallion, al Fahl.
Having shifted to the beast within, he reared up and pawed the air in growing anticipation, then took off at a gallop, seeking the path that would take him to the woman. The woman he had chosen to have bow before the altar of the Lord of Darkness. The woman destined, if all went well, to be Set-Sutehk’s next blood sacrifice.
And Rhys’s own newest conquest.