by Allie Burton
“You were at the museum loading dock.” I accused. “Who are you?”
“I’m Xander. The original Xander. Or one of them.”
I shot a glance at Xander, the real Xander, my Xander.
His eyes crinkled in confusion. His mouth twisted in a grimace. He stepped in front of me. “Excuse me?”
“Did you think you were the first boy the Society has trained?” The fake, adult Xander’s laughter came out harsh and dry. His pointy nose appeared haughty. His stance suggested over-confidence. “The first boy to face disappointment when he learned he’d never receive Tut’s power?”
My Xander’s face paled. His entire body wavered like he was going to faint. “Who are you really?”
I stared at him, willing him to stay upright. I needed him. He was my defender, my expert, my friend, maybe more.
“You may call me X. Soon I’ll have no need for even a single name.” His dark gaze flashed with glee, but also a light of vulnerability. Just like Xander, he’d expected to host Tut’s soul only to be disappointed.
Xander’s Adam’s apple moved up and down. His gaze pinpointed the man, examined, wondered. “A-are y-you my…father?”
I barely heard the hopeful note in his voice. But it was there.
Xander looked nothing like X. Tall and thin, X had narrow bone structure like a scarecrow with lighter black hair. Xander had an athlete’s body even while standing still. His dark hair contrasted with his sharp green eyes—a startling difference that had caught my attention right away.
And Xander acted nothing like X. Xander didn’t laugh with a cruel abandon or chase kids in the dark of night. When he learned he wouldn’t host Tut’s soul, he didn’t turn against me, try to use me and my power. He’d helped me.
“Tut, tut, tut. And I’m not referring to the Pharaoh.” X laughed again, but in a more controlled fashion. He studied Xander’s lost face and a bit of sympathy appeared in his expression. “The Society of Aten has raised a Xander in every generation for centuries hoping the right boy would coincide with the right time. Until the advancement of science we couldn’t predict when a full moon eclipse would time perfectly with the summer solstice. But with you it was different.” X’s tone went from sympathetic to stone. “With you they knew.”
Xander’s shoulders drooped. “Did they kick you out of the Society? Like me.” Xander sounded sympathetic to this man.
I wanted to slap him to his senses. X was the enemy.
X seemed to consider Xander’s question. “Having been the Chosen One at one point, I understood how the new Xander would feel when he found out he was being used until he burned out. The Society was unwilling to invest in my research, so I went solo.”
“Do you know how to stop the burn out?” Hope sputtered with thoughts of a cure. Maybe X could save me.
“All he cares about is the power.” Xander spat the last word.
The fluttering stopped. Hope nose-dived and crashed. “With your research, what would happen to me and the power?”
His gaze shot over to me like a harsh spotlight. “Simple. I’d control the power and you.”
X signaled to the golden-gloved men and they stepped forward. The gold gloves must do something. Why else would these two goons be willing to look so ridiculous?
Xander raised one of the shovels. “It’s a trap, Olivia. He probably doesn’t even know how to end the burn out. He’ll take control of you. He’ll own you like a slave.”
My muscles bunched ready to run. I wouldn’t become their prisoner, used for whatever wicked purpose they planned. Because looking at X, I knew he was bad.
Not by his looks, because some people would consider him handsome for an older guy. Not by his words, because he’d given us vital information. It was his stance, his attitude, the aura that engulfed him.
“The Society will treat her like a slave.” X shot a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me smile. “And she’ll still burn out. Why are you letting Xander take you to them?”
X’s words jolted. “I’m not. He’s not.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Xander moved in front of me. He raised his arms like a Kung Fu fighter, tightening his fists around the two shovels. He still planned to fight for me. For us. If we weren’t in such a dire situation, and I needed to fight or flee too, I’d swoon at his protective action.
“Sebekkah or Tahtib?” X asked.
I understood ancient Egyptian but those two words didn’t translate.
“Both.” Xander circled his arms with the metal shovels cutting through the air. His balance and symmetry showed his mastery of the art. “Plus a few other, more modern, martial arts.”
X put his fists up in a similar position. “Remember, I had the same training as you.”
“Twenty years ago.” Xander jumped and twisted in the air kicking out with his feet in perfect position. He landed softly on the ground. It was like watching poetry in motion, or a really good dance move.
Except, he didn’t attack X. Instead, he moved behind me and kicked out at both of the gloved men. They stumbled into each other like a bowling ball hitting pins. They didn’t go down.
I watched like it was a 3-D action movie. The men wobbled, their faces dazed from the unexpected attack. Breathing heavy, they repositioned and moved toward Xander.
X appeared shocked. He still held his arms up, but his face seemed to be thinking and recalculating. Obviously, he thought he’d fight Xander and let the goons take me.
Xander moved in with the shovels. He mixed up his arms, then he jabbed and sliced with the sharp garden tools. One of the shovels sliced a goon’s face. Blood dripped from his cheek.
I grimaced. Fisting my hands, a basic—most likely male—urge to fight pulsed inside my body. I could help.
Xander went in like a fencer. He stabbed at the other goon and cut his arm. The man pulled back for just a second but then moved in toward Xander again. The hitting, the spinning, the bleeding, happened so fast. What seemed like minutes was probably only seconds.
Xander kept going at them. “Olivia, run!”
His words shook out of whatever strange funk had held me. From the gang fights I’d witnessed, Xander could definitely hold his own. I wanted to join in the scrabble, but saving the oils was more important.
X stood still. He hadn’t joined the fight. Maybe his training had been a false brag. Maybe he didn’t want to get his hands dirty. Maybe he wanted to watch which way I ran.
With my gaze on X, I grabbed the backpack. X moved forward and then stopped.
A thought struck like a bolt of lightning. I wanted to thunk myself on the head. X couldn’t touch me. And he knew it.
He’d brought his two goons along thinking they’d do all the heavy work. A quick glance at his hands confirmed my suspicions. He wasn’t wearing gold mesh gloves like the goons. The gold must protect them from my power.
A smirk bloomed on my face and with it my confidence. I didn’t need to fear X. X needed to fear me.
I glanced at Xander as he fought. The two goons had figured out how to work together because they had Xander backing up and away. Two against one wasn’t fair. He continued to fight, but I wasn’t sure how long he could keep up the resistance.
One problem at a time. I stepped toward X.
His eyes bulged out of his bony sockets. His skeletal face paled. He took a step back and made to turn and run.
I pounced. Just a slight slap to his back.
X hit the pavement. I touched him again. Not for pleasure, just to make sure he stayed down.
Then, I turned and analyzed Xander’s situation. If I touched the men anywhere but their covered hands would they get zapped? Or did just wearing the gloves protect them from any place I touched?
Only one way to find out.
Scooting around, I tried staying out of the way of Xander’s swinging arms and not be noticed by the goons. One man flew past and I ducked. His body hit the ground. I bent down and touched his shoulder.
The goon grabbed my wrist. The g
old mesh dug into my skin. Guess I had my answer. The gold glove protected his entire body. Just touching him wasn’t going to do anything.
So, I kicked him in the groin instead.
The goon let go of my wrist and screamed in pain. His body curled into a fetal position. While he wasn’t paying attention, I grabbed a ceramic flower pot from a nearby mailbox and brought it down on his head. Goon One was down for the count.
I picked up a second ceramic pot and moved toward Xander. He kick-boxed with Goon Two. Sweat poured from Xander’s face. Exhaustion showed on his bright red cheeks. But his efforts proved he had more fight in him.
I signaled to move the fight my way. He nodded and maneuvered the second goon toward me. I jumped on a small retaining wall. When Goon Two got within arm’s length, I brought the second pot down on his head.
Goon Two looked stunned for a second, but it didn’t stop him. Then, he swung around toward me.
“Aaaak!” I jumped off the retaining wall and into a colorful flowerbed on the front lawn.
Xander used Goon Two’s pursuit to give a final one-two punch. The second goon fell to the ground.
“Nice job.” I wiped the grime off my hands.
“You, too.” Xander’s winning smile sent a zap through me, warming my insides.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Looking around, I noticed a couple of house lights on.
My celebration ended. “Looks like we woke up the neighbors.” I noticed house lights flooding the streets like a spotlight. “And alerted the cops.”
* * *
We were still running ten minutes later. Well, Xander was running. I was kind of half-jogging-half-walking-really-fast. The backpack on his shoulders bounced. I hoped shaking the oils didn’t cause a chemical reaction.
“Come on.” Xander turned his head to look at me.
“I’m coming.” I panted a few feet behind him.
“We have to get away from here. From the cops and X.” A pained expression crossed his face.
Besides his initial waver when X had told him the truth about their upbringing, Xander had fought with resiliency. He must feel awful about being one of many Xanders in the Society’s history. He’d been raised to believe he was the one and only, when really he was one in hundreds.
“Do you think X knows how to stop the burn out?” My voice rose with a tremble.
“Why would the Society cut X off then?” Xander slowed down so I could catch up with him. His smooth gait showed what excellent shape he was in.
While I was not.
“They cut you off.” I grabbed my waist where a cramp formed, but kept running. When this was over, I planned to start a workout routine. Maybe Xander could be my trainer. Our imagined sweat sessions sent warmth pooling in my belly.
By now we were several blocks away and in a section of town with a few office buildings and small shops and restaurants.
“Can we slow down?” Short sprints I could handle, but I didn’t want to be a marathon runner.
As we passed a small office courtyard, Xander dashed in between the open iron gates. “In here.”
“What’re you doing?”
“I hear something.”
X and his goons? The cops? My heart pulsed with panic. Even with my superior hearing, I hadn’t heard them. “What?”
I followed him into the courtyard that opened to small businesses like law firms and accounting agencies. Plants and flower pots decorated the small space. A tinkling sound greeted us.
Xander climbed over and into a short concrete fountain. The water sprayed and dripped from a series of sculptures. He held open his arms. “Water.”
“Thirsty?” I arched a questioning brow.
“No.” He held his arms wider.
The pounding of my heart halted and then picked up its pace. A sweet sigh whispered through me. He’d stopped to touch me. I squealed internally. To hold me in his arms. Warmth waved across my skin. To kiss me. I melted inside.
I glanced around making sure no one peeked out an office window or strolled past. I couldn’t believe he’d paused our mad run across the city for this. But I was so glad he did.
I hopped over the edge of the fountain and went into his arms. There was no time to be shy or embarrassed or unsure. He’d promised he’d find water soon for us to have our second kiss and he had. It might not be perfect timing, but somehow it felt right.
His arms enveloped me in a reassuring hug. His warmth surrounded me, made me feel his heat. Desire flared in his eyes.
He leaned into me in what felt like slow motion. His hand rose up and stroked my cheek. Tingles spread across my face as his finger trailed to my chin. His eyelids closed right before his lips caressed mine. My entire body sparked and caught fire, responding to his kiss.
His mouth opened and I tasted his minty scent. He cradled my neck in his hand as if I was something precious. I’d never felt precious or special to anyone before.
He increased the pressure on my mouth and my knees buckled. His arms held me upright. My heart swelled with feelings. With warmth. With longing.
Xander’s and my relationship was so similar to Tut and Ankhesenamen’s—they’d never kissed anyone else either. They’d been so young when they married.
Xander broke off the kiss. “Sorry we can’t do this longer.” His green eyes shimmered with simmering heat. “But now that those goons know my moves I don’t want to fight them again.” He held his hand to help me climb out of the fountain.
I slipped my hand in his and let his larger fingers wrap around mine. Let him help me get out of the water.
“How did you know to go for the two goons and not X?” Xander’s first move had surprised me.
He let go of my hand and climbed out of the fountain behind me. “X brought those two men along for muscle. Plus, they each wore one gold mesh glove.” Xander swung the backpack around to the other shoulder and shook his legs trying to get some of the water off the bottom of his jeans. “I thought that odd. And I’m thinking, and I might be wrong, that through gold like water, people can touch you.” He confirmed my earlier thought.
“They were going to grab me.”
“Right. So if I took care of them, X couldn’t grab you.”
A satisfied smiled spread on my face. “Instead, we stopped X.”
* * *
We decided to use the privacy of the courtyard to read the hieroglyphics. I took the vessel out of the backpack, sat down on the cold concrete with my back to the wall. “Flames die. Heat intensifies.”
Xander sat down beside me and held out his hand. I dropped the vessel in it.
He opened the stopper and sniffed. “Myrh.”
“Like from the three kings?”
Xander shrugged. “The Society hid many of the vessels in tourist locations.” He took out the vessel we’d retrieved from the Nilometer in the ocean behind the mansion. “One vessel has led to the next, except for this one.” He held the vessel up to the single light in the courtyard. “We found it out of order and by accident.”
“San Francisco has a lot of tourist destinations.”
“The biggest one is the Golden Gate Bridge.” He handed me the vessel from the Nilometer. “Look at what this says again.”
“Gateway to gold. Lights behold.” The image of the red bridge formed in my mind. “Golden Gate Bridge, definitely.”
“If the Society planned for the host to pick these up in order, then they wanted to go to the Golden Gate Bridge last. Why?” He ran his fingers over the lines of the hieroglyphics.
At times, I’d felt like we were being led around by a string on the hunt for the oils, and yet X had used a tracking device. We hadn’t seen any Society member that Xander had recognized since the wharf. Hadn’t seen Jeb and I still wondered if he’d survived. “Maybe we should go to the Golden Gate Bridge first and pick up that oil. Throw them off our strategy.”
“What do you think this new vessel means?” Xander picked up our newest acquisition.
We’d been t
o the ocean, Transamerica Pyramid, the Wharf, Lombard Street. We needed to go to the Golden Gate Bridge. What other tourist spots are there and how did they relate to the oils? “There are seven total oils. What oils are we missing and what do they do?”
“Spikenard stimulates psychic powers.”
“With Tut in my head I think I’m psychic enough.” My lame joke went straight over Xander’s head.
His leg shook back and forth like someone with a nervous habit. Which I’d never seen him do before.
“Then there’s…Fo-ti-tieng.” Redness stole up his cheeks. He stared down at the ground and didn’t say anything else.
I angled my head. “And that does what?”
“Is it important what it does?” His curt tone told me more than his answer.
“The oil’s purpose relates to the locations where we’ve been finding them.”
Was the oil’s purpose that awful? Could it cause total destruction of the Earth? Could it end my powers and me?
He looked away from me. “It’s…It’s…”
Chapter Twenty-One
I held my breath. Waiting to hear what horrible thing this Fo-ti-tieng could do. Waiting to see how a few ounces of an ancient oil could be so destructive, so terrible, to make the normally-confidant Xander stutter.
“It’s?” I prodded.
“A sexual stimulant.” His face blossomed a deeper red. His skin tone matched the Lombard Street bricks.
My face probably turned red, too. Heat infused inside my body and I squirmed. To think of our kiss, and what Tut and I had spoken about, and then this Fo-ti-tieng. The conclusions in my head caused laughter to bubble in my chest. “Do you think it’s hidden in a brothel?”
“I don’t know.” He went back over to the fountain and splashed cold water on his face. “You don’t have to laugh.”
He was embarrassed. How cute was that?
“I’m not laughing at you.” I tried to hold my laughter covering my mouth with my hand. “I was imagining all sorts of dreadful, terrible things the oil could do.”
“I was thinking of the Castro District.” Weird with his sheltered upbringing he’d heard of the famously flamboyant area of San Francisco.
