Gillian could barely breathe. Her heart literally felt stabbed. “I must go to her!”
She leaped up, intending to run.
Rhys’s strong grip on her arm held her in place, an immovable restraint. “Not an option.”
She struggled against his control. “But they’re keeping her against her will! We have to rescue her.”
“Darling, stop.” He glanced around. They were attracting even more attention now. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she insisted as he tugged her through the library and out into the grand hallway. But they still weren’t alone. “My mother needs me.”
He kept walking, and turned down an unfamiliar but deserted corridor. “Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I am. What are you suggesting?”
They’d entered what seemed to be a quiet residential wing. He remained silent until after they’d arrived at a patterned silver door, he’d opened it, and hustled her inside.
“Gillian, what if she chose to join the per netjer of Re-Horakhti?”
“I’ve told you before. She wouldn’t have.”
“All right, fine. Say that’s true, and, for argument’s sake, let’s also say by some miracle you are able to escape Khepesh without bringing down the wrath of the high priest upon yourself. So, you show up at the doorstep of Petru and”—he put his palm to his forehead— “except, oh, wait, you have no idea where it is.”
Hurt brushed along the fringes of her heart. “But you do. You could tell me. You could show me.”
His lips thinned. “Do you have any idea what Haru-Re would do to you?”
Nothing pleasant, she knew, because he’d intimated as much yesterday when they’d met at Rhys’s house. “Not if you’re with me,” she reasoned.
His gaze was even. “Now you want me to betray Seth?”
“You already have,” she reminded him.
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Yes, and he’s been my best friend for a hundred twenty-five years. What makes you think your mother any less perfidious than I?”
“I just know it,” she said unhappily, and turned away to escape his angry regard. She suddenly noticed they were standing in the drawing room of a private residence. It was furnished much like the one in Rhys’s house aboveground. “Are these your apartments?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes,” he said.
“Is this wise? Should we even be here?” she asked.
“Hell, no. But I couldn’t have you talking treason out in the open hallways. Remember what I said happened to the last person who defected to the enemy?”
A twist of fear wound through her. “What am I supposed to do then? What if they’ve turned my mother into a zombie because she wouldn’t join willingly? Do I just—”
“Shabti,” he interrupted, his mouth turned down in distaste.
“What?”
“We call them shabtis, human servants, not zombies. That implies death, and they are very much alive.”
“In body, anyway. You saw her face in the photo, Rhys. Did she look like a normal, happy woman to you?”
He pushed out a breath. “It was a split second in time, Gillian. Maybe her shoes were pinching her.”
Gillian scowled. “You don’t really believe that.”
“Even if I don’t, there’s nothing we can do to help her. Not from here. Not right now.” He sighed. “Perhaps in time we can arrange a trade.”
“In time?”
“Darling, remember your own current position here at Khepesh is tenuous at best. Until things are...decided, you shouldn’t rock the boat with talk of haring off to Petru.” His tone carried more than a shade of rebuke.
She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the hot sting of tears behind the lids. She knew he was right. But that didn’t make it any easier to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
With a curse, he opened his arms. “By the stars. Come here.”
She went into them gratefully, needing the comfort of his nearness. He lowered his lips to hers, and she met them, shuddering out a sigh of need, holding him close.
Her body recognized him immediately as her lover, the man who’d spent hours last night worshipping her with untold pleasures. She wanted that feeling back again. The emotional closeness. The incredible sense of belonging. She opened to him, inviting him in. Their mouths melded in a drowning kiss.
Swearing an oath, a few seconds later Rhys tore his lips from hers and stepped back. “No, my love. We mustn’t do this. Not until I’ve spoken with Seth.”
“And that, my friend,” came a rough and angry male voice from behind her, “is the first intelligent thing I’ve heard you utter.”