Let not my heart be fashioned anew
according to all the evil things said against me.
—The Book of the Dead
Sheikh Shahin Aswadi stood in the wide passage to Rhys’s kitchen, brandishing his scimitar.
Gillian spun around and let out a cry of fear as Rhys froze in shock. He reached out and tucked her protectively behind his back.
“What are you doing here?” Rhys asked his friend—hell, he hoped Shahin was still his friend after what the man had just witnessed.
“Trying to save your pathetic hide,” Shahin responded with a look of fury and disgust. “When Nephtys told me what you were up to with this woman, I didn’t want to believe her. I had to see for myself that you are a traitor.”
“I am no traitor,” Rhys growled resolutely. He planted his fists on his hips. “Yesterday at my house you saw how things were between us. You made no such accusations then.”
“Because it wasn’t the first time you’d used sex to entice a female to become Seth’s sacrifice,” Shahin reminded him pointedly. He ignored Gillian’s scandalized gasp and said with narrowed eyes, “How was I to know this one would ensnare your wits as well as your cock?”
“She has not,” Rhys snapped. “I simply wish her for myself. I deserve my choice of bedmate after playing pied piper to our master for over a century.”
This time Gillian’s gasp was of outrage. She jerked away from his protective shield. “Excuse me?”
Shahin’s gaze strayed to her. “It seems the lady has a different perception of your relationship.”
Rhys resisted the urge to throw a spell of oblivion over her to prevent her hearing the argument. Shahin would just reverse it. “There’s nothing wrong with her perception. But I know where my duty lies. I’ve made her no promises I cannot keep.”
She made a distressed sound, but he didn’t dare turn. Shahin would not hesitate to strike.
“She spoke of seeking Petru,” Shahin said, holding his weapon steady, his expression still hard with suspicion. “Why?”
“Her mother was taken by Haru-Re,” Rhys said evenly. “She wants to rescue her.”
Shahin’s face barely registered a reaction. But Rhys saw it, swift and violent, chase through his eyes.
Shahin’s own family—his parents and sister—had been captured nearly three hundred years ago. And Haru-Re did not have the scruples of Seth-Aziz. Shahin’s young, innocent sister had become Haru-Re’s more-than-blood sacrifice, then had taken her own life rather than face the shame of her ordeal. His father had died trying to avenge her honor. His mother was still living as a shabti in Petru. They were the reason Shahin had joined forces with Seth-Aziz and risen to the post of commander of all the guards of Khepesh.
For revenge.
There was no fiercer warrior in all of Egypt than Sheikh Shahin, the legendary Black Hawk. But he never, ever spoke of his mother.
Abruptly, Shahin lowered his weapon and sheathed it. He stalked over to where Gillian stood and bent over her, nose to nose. “Forget your mother,” he growled. “She is as good as dead to the world.”
“Shahin!” Rhys admonished sharply.
But it was too late. Gillian slapped her hands over her mouth and burst into tears.
He pushed Shahin aside and reached out to comfort her, but she shrank away.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried, and ran for the door.
He went to give chase, but Shahin stepped in front of him. “Let her go. She won’t get far.”
“That was cruel. And unnecessary.” Rhys slashed his fingers through his hair. “And now she doesn’t trust me.”
“As well she shouldn’t. Your promises are like dust in the wind, my friend. You forget to whom she belongs.”
“Her heart belongs to me. And I aim to keep the rest of her, as well.”
Shahin paced away from him. “Don’t be a fool! You’ve heard the vision of her future Nephtys has received. This woman is not for you!” Shahin looked like he wanted to say more, but just shook his head. “Forget her, Rhys. She’ll bring you only pain and dishonor, but Seth needs her.”
His gut wrenched. Jealousy surged through his body, crushing his heart in a vise. “Nephtys is wrong! Gillian loves me. She’ll never accept Seth as her true lover.”
“Never is a long time, my friend.”
Christ. He thought of eternity stretched out endlessly before him, without Gillian at his side, forced to see her living with Seth, kissing him, making love to him.
“No!” he gritted out. “No. Seth is my friend. He’ll understand my feelings for her.”
“Will he?” Shahin retorted. “How many lovers and consorts has he gone through under your stewardship? And when they passed, how many did he mourn for more than a few months? Do you really think he’ll credit you with any deeper sentiment?”
“Then he’ll surely honor Gillian’s.”
Shahin laughed. “Seth-Aziz is a demigod, an immortal vampire who rules his kingdom with an iron hand. Do not deceive yourself that he cares a whit for the feelings of a girl.”
“You make him sound heartless.”
“No. Just prudent when it comes to useless emotions. And you, Rhys, have been an unflagging moral compass against unwilling victims for these past hundred years. But you were always careful to stay aloof, even from your most eager of charges. Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve let yourself fall under the spell of any woman.”
Rhys clamped his jaw. “This is no spell, my friend. Gillian is different.”
“How so? Does she not have satin skin and tempting, soft curves like all the others?” he asked contemptuously. “And does she not have the capacity for disruption and betrayal so prevalent among her sex?”
Rhys did not need to ask how Shahin had ended up so cynical. It had been his sister’s friend, Shahin’s own lover, who had betrayed his family to Haru-Re for a fat purse of gold coins. The fact that Shahin himself had escaped, and that the lover had not lived past their next meeting, had not assuaged Shahin’s craving for revenge. The whole fair sex had suffered his mistrust as a consequence.
“There will be no betrayal. You may trust my word on that,” Rhys said, feeling a brief sting of guilt at his half lie. “Now, why have you really come to see me?”
The sheikh studied him for a long moment, then apparently decided to accept his sincerity. “Nephtys sent me,” he said, “to fetch Miss Haliday for the welcome feast in her honor in the grand hall. I understand Seth plans to announce his intention to take her as consort.”
Dismay buzzed through Rhys at the news. Apparently, Seth had discarded his advice to take it slow with Gillian. “Indeed. That was quickly decided.”
“After Nephtys’s vision, no decision was required. Merely acceptance of what is written.”
Rhys clamped his jaw. “You’re saying my losing her is God’s will?”
Shahin shrugged. “God, gods. Fate. The universe. Call it what you like, Englishman. Our paths are decided long before we are born.”
“So you say.” It was a discussion they’d had many times before, and never come to agreement on. “I believe we humans have more self-determination than that,” Rhys stated.
“A dangerous notion, my friend,” Shahin countered.
“Not if one’s life is to have any meaning.”
Shahin’s face relaxed, not quite in a smile, but almost. “Life’s meaning lies in following one’s path with honor.”
Well. That all depended on what one saw as one’s path, didn’t it? “No matter the obstacles?” Rhys asked tightly as they left his rooms and headed toward the grand hall.
“And to the bitter end,” Shahin confirmed, grasping his shoulder and giving it a brotherly squeeze.
“Well,” Rhys allowed, “on that, at least, we can agree.”
As far as Rhys was concerned, his path led straight to Gillian. And one way or another, he planned to follow that path, regardless of the dangers. Provided he lived long enough.
They rounded a corner and he spotted her being escorted by Nephtys’s two shemats back to the temple to be prepared for the feast. He took a stride toward them, but felt Shahin’s hand on his shoulder again, this time heavier.
“Take care, my friend,” Shahin warned. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
Rhys ground his teeth and forced himself to halt. “What, specifically, did Nephtys say about Gillian and me? To make you think I’m a traitor?” he asked. Shahin was silent for a heartbeat too long, and Rhys uttered a curse. “Another of her damned prophecies?”
“Yes,” Shahin said. “As well as a vision of the more...earthly variety.”
Rhys darted him a stunned look. “What?”
“She saw the two of you.”
“Where? In the temple?”
Shahin’s eyebrows shot up. “You took a lover in the temple?” He barked out a laugh. “You are not shy about your heresy, Lord Kilpatrick.”
“Seth isn’t the only one who can honor the god with his sacrifice,” Rhys muttered defensively.
His friend shook his head with a pitying grin. “Ah, Rhys. I shall miss you greatly when you’ve been drained of your lifeblood.”
“Thanks,” Rhys said drily. “But I’m not dead yet. Did she tell Seth about us?”
“I know not.”
“In that case, come. Let us find our lord and master. It is time to put this matter to rest, once and for all.”