While unhurried days come and go,
Let us turn to each other in quiet affection,
Walk in peace to the edge of old age.
—Song inscribed on an Earthen Vessel
Thankfully, by the time Rhys concluded the ritual act, his immortal peers were deep into lascivious celebration. Gillian had fainted, overcome by the drowning erotic power she’d been deluged with at the end. And possibly by shock. No doubt, she hadn’t been expecting the fangs.
Even though his own body still buzzed dangerously from the experience, craving release, he could not delay their departure. He leaped from the altar, scooped her into his arms, and wove quickly through the crush of revelers, back through the temple to Seth’s dressing room.
He adjusted her body in his arms to close the door behind them, and her eyelashes fluttered open. She gazed up at him, her expressive green eyes still glazed with a lingering haze of pleasure.
“Rhys?” she asked, her voice uncertain.
“Shhh. We need to be quiet,” he said, glancing around to make sure they were alone. “Unless you wish Seth to awaken and find us. I assure you, he won’t be in a very good mood when he does.”
“So...” she whispered hoarsely. Her fingers went to the wound on her neck and her gaze to his mouth. Her face had drained of color. “You’re a vampire?”
He could feel the warm stickiness of the blood that had spilled from his lips and down his chin. Her blood. And his own, which he had gathered in the vial and used to make the bite appear more realistic.
The fangs were gone, but the taste of her lingered on his tongue. The air charged between them, and he looked down at her, still hot and needy. She had found release. He hadn’t.
But this wasn’t the time. They must move quickly.
“No.” He set her onto a divan, pulled off his mask and crown and tossed them aside. “I’m a shapeshifter. You know that.”
“You had fangs,” she said, meeting his eyes accusingly.
He probably should have warned her about that part.
“An illusion spell. I wasn’t sure if it would work,” he said, and cast a hurried look behind the dressing screen in the corner to make sure Seth hadn’t stirred. He was still sprawled on the floor where he’d collapsed after drinking the drugged wine Rhys had sneaked in and left earlier.
I’m sorry, my friend. You gave me no choice.
Gillian had sat up and was peering at the wounds on her neck in a hand mirror. “You’re saying these aren’t real?”
“The fangs were illusion, but the effect they had was not. Come. We must hurry.”
He found the hidden lever and opened the low door to the other secret passage she had discovered on the map. He’d been exploring the tunnels for the past two days, pretending to be resigned to his confinement to his rooms, while he was in reality plotting and gathering the supplies they would need for their journey.
“We’re covered in blood,” she said, rising to follow him. “We’ll scare anyone who sees us.”
“I have water to wash and a change of clothes hidden in the old tomb,” he told her.
She took his hand as he was about to usher her into the darkness of the narrow passage. “Are you sure, Rhys?”
He sensed the deeper meaning behind the question, and felt the connection between them even more strongly. He wanted this woman. Wanted her in every way a man could want a woman. He wanted to love her and make love to her, cherish her, and grow old with her. He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Never more sure of anything in my life.”
Then he led his woman down into the yawning, black portal toward an uncertain fate.
In the ancient tomb of Seth-Aziz where they’d first met, they cleaned up and he helped her into the masculine head-to-toe Bedouin garb he had chosen as her disguise. That’s when Gillian suddenly noticed the slight change in the inscription that covered the wall of the tomb. In the scene of Seth-Aziz worshipping Set-Sutekh along with his shemsu, another figure now kneeled next to Lord Rhys Kilpatrick. A woman. A blonde. And the name inscribed next to it was Gillian’s own.
She stared at it, startled. “I suppose they’ll chisel us out now,” she said at length. Surprised at the sting of regret she felt.
“Perhaps,” he said, and kissed her. “Their loss.”
“Will you shift?” she asked, smiling.
He smiled back and kissed her again. “Yes. So I can be between your thighs as we ride the wind.”
“Where will we go?” she asked as they stepped out into the pale light of the breaking dawn.
He looked toward the east, to the ribbon of silver-green water, the river that gave this land life. Beyond, the golden disc of the sun broke through above the ragged tear of the horizon, piercing its rays into the peaceful darkness, stabbing out the stars with its bright light, waking the valley to its day of toil and strife.
He turned away and looked toward the north.
“Petru,” she said, following his gaze.
She had done her homework, it seemed. He glanced at her and shook his head. “No. It’s where they’ll expect us to go.”
“It’s where you can remain immortal.”
“That doesn’t matter,” he said. “I want to grow old with you.”
“You said it wouldn’t be a betrayal to join Haru-Re. You said you could work for the good of Khepesh, even in the camp of the enemy.”
“That was before I had you with me,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I’d like to see my mother again,” she said quietly.
He took her in his arms and held her close. And realized he must do this for her, so she could have peace in her heart. He kissed her hair. “Very well. Petru it is, then.”
She tilted up her face and gazed at him with her beautiful green eyes. There was so much love in them, it humbled him. He would do anything for her. Anything in the world to keep that adoring look in her eyes.
“It’ll be fine,” she said. “You’ll see.”
“You’re not afraid?” he asked.
“No.” She rested her cheek against his chest. “I know I’ll be safe with you.”
“You will,” he vowed. “And you’ll be mine for ever. We’ll find the spell to make it so, I promise you. Because I intend to keep you for at least that long.”
“And I’ll cherish every minute we have together. Oh, Rhys, I’m so happy.”
“I love you,” he said, and kissed her smiling lips.
“I love you, too,” she said, and his heart swelled.
He shifted to al Fahl and she climbed on his back, and together they rode off into the desert, the ghost stallion and his mortal mate.
And their love would last until the end of time.