by Jill Myles
Zane winked. “Bad doggy, eh? Gonna get out a newspaper and swat me?”
I thwacked him in the arm with my purse. “Behave. This is a museum. None of your hijinks in here.”
He saluted me like a mischievous Boy Scout and moved to step in behind me as I strode through the museum with purpose. “Absolutely no hijinks.” He paused in front of a painting—a popular Jackson Pollock—and made a noise of disgust. “Do people truly consider this art? It looks like garbage.” He stared at the painting, tilting his head to the side and then the other.
I stopped in my tracks and glanced over, amused by his assessment. “Jackson Pollock was renowned for his performance art. You either get it or you don’t.” I didn’t get it either, but I wasn’t about to let him know that. “We need to head to the east wing of the museum.” The east wing housed all the BC artifacts, and luckily was the farthest from Julianna’s office near the gift shop.
He shrugged. “Whatever you say. You’re the boss.” His devilish little grin implied that I was anything but.
“You’d better remember it,” I sassed, and turned my back, hoping he’d take the hint and follow. Zane seemed to have a shorter attention span than most supernaturals, and I was hoping he wouldn’t wander off at the sight of a shiny object.
To my relief, he pulled into step beside me, whistling to himself, his eyes roaming the dark, empty hallways.
“So, have we met before? Because you sure seem familiar to me.” There was something about him that seemed like it was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t remember. “I don’t suppose you hang out in dark alleys near nightclubs, looking for dorky girls to molest?”
“Huh?” He gave me a vague look.
“Never mind,” I said, waving off my comments with a flick of my fingers. “I was just wondering if you were my vampire master. Forget I asked.” I felt a bit dumb for bringing it up.
The cleaning crew wasn’t due to come in until midnight, so if we could just avoid Julianna, I’d be happy. With luck we’d be out of here before she realized I’d made a pit stop.
“You’re not asking,” Zane said as we walked, looking over at me with a secretive smile, an unlit cigarette hanging from his full lips.
I reached over and plucked it out of his mouth before he could light it. “No smoking in the museum. Now, what is it I should be asking about, Dr. Seuss?”
He grinned and paused in the midst of a series of Roman emperors’ busts on loan from the Smithsonian. I held my breath, thinking for a horrible moment that he was going to reach over and topple one of the priceless objects, and I’d have to explain to the National Museum and my boss what had happened. To my great relief, Zane just pointed at one of the security cameras in the corner of the hall, red light flashing to indicate that it was working. “You’re not asking why no one’s coming out to check up on us.”
My eyes narrowed as my brain absorbed that. He did have a point. I was in the museum after having called in sick for the past few days (which was odd, but not completely strange), accompanied by a dark, mysterious man covered in black leather head to toe (very strange). The security guard should have at least stopped by to say hi or do a bit of random clubbing with a nightstick. So why hadn’t he?
There were a few possibilities, none of them pleasant. One: George the security guard could be dead. A long shot, but since I’d just spent the last two days with fallen angels, vampires, and succubi, I was willing to work murder into the realm of plausibility. Two: George knew we were here and was dialing 911 for backup. Or three: he and Julianna were having mad sex in the control room and were too busy to notice the odd couple in the security cameras. But since George was ninety if he was a day and Julianna had a permanent icicle up her ass, I doubted that very much.
So I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “I give up. Why don’t you just tell me?”
“You’re no fun.” Zane had another cigarette between his lips and lit it before I could protest. “Come on. I’ll show you.” He stalked ahead of me and turned down a hall.
I trotted after him, making sure that his long, sweeping coat didn’t knock over anything vital. “Where are you going? That’s the wrong way. We’re looking for the Egyptian wing, not the Mayan exhibit.”
He ignored my stressed squawking, heading straight for the men’s room.
I pulled up short as he stepped inside. Well, okay. This threw me for a loop. I didn’t think vampires had bodily functi—
Zane cracked the door back open again and gave me an odd look. “You won’t be able to see anything from out there.”
My jaw dropped. “What exactly do you think I’d want to see in there?”
He rolled his eyes and yanked me into the bathroom with him. “You’re the most paranoid sex fiend I’ve ever met, Princess.”
“I’m not a sex fiend,” I protested, as he turned me to face the mirror over the row of sinks. “I fail to see …” The words died in my throat. “I …” Failed again. “Oh.”
My reflection stared back in the mirror, looking as uncannily sexy as ever. I also saw the wall behind me. And a cigarette dangling in the air.
As in, by itself.
“Er, you’re not in the mirror.” I pointed at where his reflection should have been.
Zane smacked a hand to his forehead. “My word, you’re right.” He shook his head and took a long haul on his cigarette. “It’s a wonder you Suck girls aren’t prized for your brains. That’s some keen wit you’ve got there.”
I slapped the cigarette out of his mouth and ground it under my shoe. “Can we go now? I realize this is all fun and frat-boy games to you, but I’ve got to figure out where your queen’s been hiding her fashion accessories for the past four millennia before she kills my friend.”
I didn’t like being made fun of, and there was something about Zane that always put me on edge. His laughing sexuality? His devil-may-care attitude? Whatever it was, I didn’t trust him one bit. Even worse, I didn’t trust myself around him.
He really did have the most amazing lips.
“She won’t kill him, you know,” Zane called after me. “She’ll use him for a bit to see if she can breed a child off his seed and make a divine vampire. Failing that, she’ll just drain him of his powers.”
“Well, don’t I just feel so much better now,” I gushed. I stormed away, determined to get to the Egyptian wing without any more distractions from the fanged menace.
Zane didn’t say anything else for a good ten minutes, allowing me time to get my thoughts in order. Somewhat mollified, I shared my theory about Nitocris being an ancient queen of Egypt and he didn’t laugh at me, which was surprising.
The Treasures of the Nile was my favorite collection in the entire museum. It was our most popular wing, so I’d never been assigned to it, since I was the lowest docent on the totem pole. But I had the guided tour memorized in the hopes of one of the more prestigious docents calling in sick and me getting my chance to shine.
A full-blown sarcophagus encased in glass heralded the entrance of the Egyptian wing. The walls were painted with a scene of the banks of the Nile, and a few fluted columns topped with palm leaves added to the feel. The piped-in Eastern music that normally played here was silent, so the only noises were the swish of Zane’s clothing behind me, and the sound of him inhaling on his cigarette.
“So, what are we looking for here?”
“Egyptian stuff. Duh.”
He looked like he wanted to choke me for a moment, and I felt exceedingly proud of managing to get under his skin.
He leaned over a glass case and stared at a line of ushabti figurines. “No, Princess. I meant, what did you hope to find at this particular museum?”
It was a long shot, but I had remembered something that I thought might be worth a try. I brushed past him and gave him a breezy smile, heading toward the far end of the crowded exhibit. “Carrie Brown worked here last summer.”
“Who?”
“She was a graduate student at Oxford in their archa
eology program. She interned here last summer and worked in the Egyptian wing.” Lucky bitch.
I headed to the far end of the room, behind the movie screen that played A Day in the Life of Egypt on an endless twenty-minute loop during business hours. “She wrote her thesis on female Egyptian pharaohs. Carrie left a copy for the museum’s records, so I’m going to rummage through her papers to see if she had anything good.”
I fumbled behind the screen, feeling around, and turned my finger in a small indention. The storage door slid open a few inches. The room was so crammed full of boxes of old documentation and gift shop receipts that it was impossible to open the door fully. I wedged one lean thigh in the door and forced it open, squeezing my body through the crack. There was a slight problem with the boobs, but I managed to shove my way through without damaging myself.
I flipped on the light switch and stared up at the daunting stack of boxes. I’d had to box up the crap the giggly interns had left on their desks last summer when they’d returned to college, just in case they wanted it back. Carrie Brown’s documents should still be in her storage box, including her well-detailed thesis.
“Are you going to be in there long?” From outside of the claustrophobic storage closet, Zane’s voice echoed in the quiet hall. “Or shall I wander off?”
Hell, no! Thinking fast, I stuck my head out to look at him. “Do you know what Nitocris’s cartouche looks like?”
The vampire gave me a blank look. “I beg your pardon?”
“The cartouche?”
An offended look crossed his face. “How dare you ask me about such a thing? She is my queen, not some common slut—”
I blinked hard and resisted the urge to giggle at the pissy look on his normally blasé face. “Whoa there, stud. I meant her name. Spelled out in Egyptian hieroglyphs.”
“No, I wouldn’t know.”
“Then do me a favor and start reading these.” I pointed at one of the informative plaques next to the glass cases. They gave a small blurb of history about the object inside or sometimes a quote from a historical document. “Look for anything that mentions a hidden room or a chick pharaoh. Got that?”
Zane flicked a cigarette on the polished wood floor, no doubt to tick me off. “You’re the boss.”
“Shut up,” I snapped. “And quit smoking in the damn museum! You’ll set off the smoke detectors.”
He laughed, which only irritated me more. I turned back to the mess inside, muttering about prick vampires, and tackled the first box.
An hour or two later, I discovered the box I was looking for. It reeked of cheap floral perfume and had the initials C.B. on it.
When I flipped open the box, the scent hit me like a ton of bricks. I gagged, forcing myself to pick through the box. At the bottom I found a spiral-bound copy of her thesis manuscript and silently cheered. If there was any condensed research on the vampire queen, brainy little Carrie Brown would have found it. I’d be willing to stake my life on it.
No pun intended.
Shoving the boxes into some semblance of order, I pushed my way out of the storage closet and sucked in a clean breath of air. The wing now smelled like Zane’s cigarettes, but I’d take second-hand smoke over one more lungful of Tabu any day.
The exhibit hall was empty, devoid of bored vampire. I clutched the thesis to my chest and began to run, looking frantically for his long leather coat.
I didn’t have to look long. As soon as I rounded a corner, I saw Zane’s broad shoulders by one of the leafy pillars and just about collapsed in relief.
Until I saw that he was talking to Julianna, which caused me to nearly choke on my own tongue. At the sound of my strangled gargle, they both turned to me.
Zane’s eyes were slitted in a sexy, sleepy gaze that made my body throb with immediate recognition. To my surprise, Julianna wasn’t shooting me looks of hate. She seemed glazed, flushed, and slightly out of it. Julianna smiled at me and then turned back to Zane, her eyes wide and adoring. The first three buttons of her starchy white shirt were undone, and she was toying with the fourth.
Oh, shit. I rushed forward and shoved myself between them, which got a chuckle of amusement from Zane and a sound of consternation from my boss.
“Is something wrong, Princess?” Zane moved me to the side. “Didn’t you find what you were looking for?”
“I found it, all right. And now that we’ve accomplished our goal, we can go.” I forced a tight smile and directed it at Julianna. “Sorry to make a late-night pit stop at the museum. I know you don’t approve, but—”
Julianna cocked her head and looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. Given my modified appearance, that probably wasn’t too far off the mark. “Did you do something different with your hair? It looks nice.”
Uh.
I turned to Zane suspiciously. “All right, lover boy. What did you do?”
He gave me a slow smile that caused my heart to skip a beat. “Do? Your lovely coworker found me out here and has been helpfully answering my questions about the Egypt exhibit.”
“She has?” I shot another suspicious look over at Julianna. She looked more like she was about to pull her blouse off than give a lecture on the difference between Old, Middle, and New Kingdom Egypt.
Julianna wiped a stray lock of hair—the first stray lock of hair I’d ever seen in her otherwise immaculate coif—off her brow. “Mr. Hatfield was just telling me of his interest in the female pharaohs.” Her voice was breathy with delight. “Isn’t it wonderful that he has such an avid interest in history?”
“That’s just great,” I replied. Mr. Hatfield? Did that make Noah a McCoy? “So did you find anything on Nitocris?”
She shook her head, her eyes glued to Zane. “Nothing, but I did tell Mr. Hatfield that Nitocris is a rather ancient figure in history. We don’t have many Old Kingdom artifacts here in our museum, mostly New Kingdom. I suggested that he check out the Cairo Museum of Antiquities if he is looking for specific artifacts.”
Zane looped an arm over my shoulders, grinning down at me. “And I told her that’s just what we’d be doing.”
The casual touch sent a tingling sensation through me, and Julianna’s adoring look faltered into one of hate, directed my way. I slid out from under Zane’s arm.
Zane reached for Julianna’s hand and brushed his lips along her knuckles. “Thanks to this lovely creature’s advice.”
Julianna giggled and turned her adoring gaze back to Zane. “If there’s anything I can do at all, let me know. It’s so wonderful to meet someone who understands the importance of … the Old Kingdom.”
I rolled my eyes. I doubted the Old Kingdom was even on her radar at the moment. “Fascinating. Can we go now, please?”
“Of course.” Zane ran the back of his hand down Julianna’s cheek. “In just one moment …”
I watched in horror as Julianna tilted her head back, exposing her neck.
“Wait a minute!” I shrieked.
It was too late. Zane leaned in, and I heard the slurp of flesh being punctured.
Shocked, I could do nothing but turn away. “Zane!”
He ignored me. I heard Julianna’s moan and wondered if it was from fear. It sounded more … well, sexual.
I wondered if I’d sounded like that when I’d been attacked in the alley. Had I enjoyed it? Made the same kittenish noises that Julianna was making? Pressed my body against his and begged for more? Noah had told me that being bitten by a vampire turns your sex drive on high, but I couldn’t remember any details. It was difficult to equate someone sucking all the blood out of you with mind-blowing sex, but that was what Julianna sounded like she was having right now.
I heard one last slurp that sounded like a wet kiss, and then the sound of a body collapsing on the floor. Zane made a pleased noise under his breath, and despite my misgivings, I turned around to look.
Zane wiped his mouth with the edge of his sleeve and winked at me. “Couldn’t help myself.” His eyes blazed a brilliant red that die
d down as I watched. At his feet, Julianna lay collapsed in a heap, her eyes closed. I could see a small trickle of blood from her neck.
Panic bloomed through me.
“You fucking freak!” I screamed, smacking him. “Did you just kill my boss?” I knelt at her side, pressing my fingers against her throat for a pulse. “Ohmigod, I am so fired. Do you know how hard it is to get a job in a museum, you stupid idiot?” I threw the notebook at him and knelt over Julianna, slapping at her cheek. “Wake her up right now, dammit.”
“Calm down,” Zane said, the hint of a smile still in his voice. “She’s not dead. I usually don’t bite to kill.”
“Wow, you’re a real peach,” I snarled. My finger caught the barest of pulses in the thick flesh of her neck and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” I stood up, wiping the sweat that had broken on my brow. “It scared the heck out of me, seeing her laid out like that. Why’s she passed out?”
He shrugged. “Orgasm, I imagine. That’s how it affects most women.”
I shot him a scathing look. “Oh, of course. The touch of your lips is so amazing that it makes women fall over in a dead faint.”
Zane chuckled. “Most human women experience an extreme reaction to a vampire’s touch, to the point of dizziness or even blacking out from pleasure. See if her panties are wet, if you don’t believe me. Or maybe you’d like a demonstration on yourself?” His dark eyes flickered red again, and he stepped close—almost too close. I could feel the heat pouring off him. “I’d be willing to feed twice in a night for you.” He touched my arm, trailing down my sensitive skin.
I took an involuntary step backward.
He smiled at me, continuing to approach like a tiger cornering its prey. “Could it be that you’re jealous?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I bluffed, scooting back nervously. My backside bumped into a glass case and I froze, then took a step to the side.
Zane’s hands planted on the glass case next to my head, trapping me between him and the display. The scent of leather and cigarettes swam over me, and I looked into his smiling face. He really did have the most sensual mouth.
