Meeting his eyes, I exhaled in relief. “Nuin . . .”
His sculpted lips curved into a slight smile, and he nodded his close-shaven head in acknowledgment.
A handful of people stood around him, both male and female, but I didn’t give any of them a second glance. Hell, I barely gave any of them a first glance. My legs started moving, a slow, stunned stride. It seemed to take forever for me to cross the distance separating me from this one familiar person, this one thing I could depend on in such a foreign time period, but I couldn’t manage to move any faster.
I stopped a few steps in front of him, my arms dangling limply at my sides. I had dozens—hundreds—of things to say to him, but I couldn’t think of a single one. Instead, I simply stared into eyes filled with brilliant, swirling hues of every color. Eyes that apparently reflected my own.
Tell me what to do, I thought.
Make this make sense.
Help me, please!
My mind felt numb, and I couldn’t voice any of my desperate pleas. I could just stare into those mesmerizing eyes.
A woman said something to him from directly behind me, but I couldn’t understand her words.
Mischief filled Nuin’s ancient eyes, transformed features that were so similar to Marcus’s that it was heartbreaking, and a broad smile spread across his achingly handsome face. “Why, daughter, this is Hat-hur, my wife.”
6
Give & Take
“I—I—your wife?” I said.
Nuin’s eyes wrinkled at the corners as his grin widened. “Yes, dear Alexandra, my wife. It’s to my benefit, and to yours, I think, that nobody questions my marital acquisitions,” he said, answering in English. Only then did I realize I’d spoken in my native tongue as well. “I hoped,” he said, “though I wasn’t sure, that Aset was correct about your imminent arrival, and her early warning has given me the time to weigh your possible identities while you’re here.”
I shook my head. “But you—”
He held up a hand, cutting me off. “Being one of my wives not only gives you a legitimate reason to be here and me a legitimate reason to spend time with you alone and provide you with ample resources and protection, but it also raises you to the highest-ranking position among the Nejerettes of this time. It’s the most logical, practical move to make.” He raised one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug, and something in his eyes made me think he wasn’t quite telling me everything. Not that that was a surprise . . .
My shoulders rose, then slumped. “But . . . your wife?”
Nuin’s grin faded to the faintest of smiles, and he reached up to brush the backs of his curled fingers against my cheek. “Much is troubling you, my Alexandra. How long has it been since we last spoke?”
I frowned and thought back to the disastrous confrontation with Set in the underground temple, just after Nuin had given me the ankh-At, transferring half of his power to me. “A little over two weeks—my weeks, not yours,” I added. The ancient Egyptian week contained ten days. “So fifteen or sixteen days, I think. How long has it been for you?”
“Three long, exhausting years.”
“Three years?” I blurted, surprised. For some illogical reason, I’d assumed as much time had passed for him as it had for me.
Nuin nodded sedately. “And now that you are here, I’ll have plenty of time to teach you—”
“Plenty of time?” I shook my head and leaned in. “What about Marcus? I can’t stay here, Nuin. We don’t have plenty of time. You know that.” Panic somersaulted in my chest. “I have to get back, but I need to know how to keep Apep from possessing him, and—”
“Calm yourself, my Alexandra,” Nuin said, taking hold of my upper arms. “Until you have enough control over your new power and are strong enough to deal with Apep and restore ma’at, you must stay here.” Not that I had any idea what he meant by restore ma’at. “Your bond-mate will be fine in your time, I assure you. And here, you’ll be able to—”
A man spoke directly behind me. The voice was deep and silken, and it resonated with the very core of my being, making my heart beat faster and my lips attempt to curve into a smile. Though I didn’t quite understand his words, there was no mistaking his identity: Marcus.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Not Marcus—Heru.
He doesn’t know me . . . he doesn’t know me . . . he doesn’t know me . . .
Nuin squeezed my shoulder supportively and pressed two fingers to my temple. I felt a wash of power sink into me, reminding me of how it used to feel when he would block and unblock my memories every time he visited me growing up.
My eyes flashed open. “What . . . ?”
Nuin smiled. “I have sealed your new power within you.” He spoke in English, which I suspected would fast become our go-to method for keeping the more unusual aspects of our relationship secret.
“Why—”
“To hide your rather stunning new eye color . . . among other reasons. I shall explain what I can later, I promise.” Switching to what Aset had called the “original tongue,” he said, “Yes, Heru, I have a new wife.” He laughed, his gaze shifting to look past me. “I found myself in need of just one more, and this lovely creature practically sprang into existence out of the At itself to meet my needs.”
I pressed my lips together, far from amused. And holy hell, was I nervous to turn around. The man who would, in just over four thousand years, become the love of my life was standing behind me. And he had no idea who I was.
Forcing a smile and gritting my teeth, I murmured in English, “Maybe it would be best if you just told me how to protect Marcus from this Apep guy so I can return to my own time without having to do this.” I widened my eyes for emphasis.
Nuin’s eyebrows lowered, and sadness clouded his multihued irises. “That isn’t possible.”
“What’s not possible, protecting Marcus or me going home?”
Nuin sighed. “At the moment—both.”
I leaned in closer to him. “Why not?”
He spent a tense moment searching my face, a moment made even more uncomfortable by the building anticipation forming around us. “Because, if you return now, you’ll both die. And . . . before you leave this time, I must die.”
I opened my mouth, but shock stoppered my voice. I’d known, I really had. This was when Nuin died. I’d known. But . . . I loved this man. Not in the same way that I loved Marcus, but few people meant as much to me as Nuin, and the thought of his imminent death . . . I swallowed roughly. It was like learning that my sister or one of my parents had terminal cancer. I hadn’t been ready for this. I would never be ready for this.
Tears welled in my eyes. “Nuin, I—I—”
He tilted his beautiful head to the side. “Calm yourself, dear Alexandra. All will be well. All is what must be.”
But his words didn’t stop my heart from filling with sorrow or my mind from whirring with possible ways to save him. It didn’t seem to matter to my mind that I had no clue how he was supposed to die.
Off to my right, a woman strode toward us, rattling off what could only be admonishments and complaints, however incomprehensible her words were to me.
I turned my head to watch her approach. She was middle-aged, slender, and remarkably pretty. She was also human, which was surprising, considering that the sharp edge to her tongue was most definitely aimed at Nuin . . . and possibly at me. It was hard to believe that anyone had that gall to speak to him in such a tone.
“You speak the original tongue?” Heru said. I hadn’t noticed him draw closer, but based on the sound of his voice, he was standing a few inches behind me and had to be leaning down to keep his words between only us in a crowd that included more than a few Nejerets.
My entire body tensed, and my spine straightened with the effort not to lean back against him. Not mine, I reminded myself. He might as well be a different man entirely.
He’d certainly never mentioned meeting me in ancient times, so I didn’t think prolonging our interaction to a memorable
encounter was wise. Nuin might be able to teach me how to block Heru’s memories of me, but the more complicated they were, the harder I feared the task would be.
I considered ignoring him, but that just seemed rude. I gave a minute nod.
The woman reached Nuin, near hysterics in her tirade, and another—an absolutely gorgeous Nejerette—was close by her side.
“But not the common language?” Heru asked.
I shook my head.
“Then I shall translate.” There was mischief in Heru’s tone, and I started to understand one of the many ways the passing of thousands of years had shaped my Heru; he’d lost this playfulness his younger counterpart offered up readily. My Heru was serious and somber, and far too conceited. He emitted confidence and power just by breathing, and when he entered a room, his presence demanded that all eyes focus on him. This Heru was different. Less guarded, it seemed . . . less troubled.
I still hadn’t looked at him. I wasn’t ready. I needed more time; four thousand years sounded about right.
“The woman scolding the Great Father is his primary wife, Ipwet.” Heru laughed, and his breath brushed against my neck, making me shiver. “She is demanding to know when and where he found you. She calls him a rabid monkey. She says he’s no better than a”—he cleared his throat—“apologies . . . a horny stray dog who is incapable of controlling his libido and cannot turn down any female who crosses his path. Ah . . . now she is talking about you, and I do not think you would like me to translate.”
“Enough!” Nuin said, and the woman fell silent. “It is done.” Raising his voice, he added, “Let it be known that any person in my new wife’s presence shall speak the original tongue unless they do not know it. Ale—Hat-hur does not speak the common language, and it will be considered a great insult by me if any speak it simply to keep her from understanding. She is from far away, and despite having a legendary divine reputation among our people, she is not familiar with our ways. The adjustment will be difficult enough for her; the least we can do is make sure she can understand us.” He stared at his primary wife. “Am I clear, Ipwet?”
She nodded, and when her gaze shifted to me, sniffed.
“Ankhesenpepi?” Nuin said, and when the other woman nodded, my mind was blown. Here was Ankhesenpepi, Nuin’s Nejerette daughter who, according to Aset, had been the queen or consort to numerous rulers, including the recently laid-to-rest Pepi Neferkare, and was the highest ranking Nejerette alive. Except for me.
I frowned, thinking she was taking being “dethroned” fairly well.
“Perhaps she should spend some time learning the common tongue so we do not risk upsetting her, dear Father,” Ankhesenpepi said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at Nuin.
To my surprise, it was Heru who responded. “Perhaps I will volunteer to spend some time teaching her.”
Ankhesenpepi’s almond-shaped eyes, as dark and richly colored as the finest chocolate, narrowed to slits. She scanned me from the sandals up, her striking eyes going wide when she reached my face. “She is Netjer-At!” Her irate stare shifted to Nuin. “Why would you take her as a wife? This is not the way! You said you would never—that I would always be—”
“Jealous, Khessie?” Heru said, and she turned her glare on him.
“She—she cannot give him children,” she sputtered. “It is not done!”
“It is not done!” Ipwet echoed.
“And yet, I did it.” There was a note of finality in Nuin’s voice. “We are done with this conversation. Do not bring it up again.”
Both Ipwet and Ankhesenpepi shut their mouths, but I could still feel the outrage pouring off them in waves. Clearly I’d been wrong about the dethronement thing . . .
“I have to admit that I am a little jealous, Great Father,” Heru said. He stepped up to stand on my left, and when a slender arm linked with my right, I glanced over to find Aset standing on my other side. Brother and sister were flanking me like faithful guardians. “After all, the stories do say that Hat-hur is supposed to be my wife, and all can see that she is even more lovely than the stories say . . .”
Pulse racing, I turned my head to look at him before I could stop myself. And as expected, he was exquisite—chiseled features that were both masculine and beautiful at the same time and were unquestionably similar to Nuin’s, light golden-brown skin, and a lean physique toned enough to make any woman’s heartbeat speed up. And just like the rest of the men in the courtyard, his upper half was completely bare, which just made it that much harder not to stare. Everything about him was so familiar that seeing him was like a balm on burned skin.
Until I looked into his eyes, and my soul shattered. These weren’t the eyes I knew and loved. They were the eyes of a stranger. Yes, they were as golden as the sun and rimmed in black, but they were too trusting . . . too open. Not my Heru . . .
He leaned in closer, his brow furrowed. “Are you unwell, Hat-hur?”
I took several hasty steps backward and smacked into another body, hard. A strong hand gripped my arm, steadying me. I spun around and nearly screamed when I recognized who it belonged to—Set.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice kind. “I did not mean to startle you.” He cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing my face. “Have we met before?”
“I—you—” I shook my head vehemently. “No. No, we haven’t.”
“Set,” Nuin said. “I would like you to meet my newest wife, Hat-hur. I think you two will get along quite well and find that you have much in common.”
Like our genetics . . .
Set bowed his head slightly and released me. “I am pleased to meet you, Hat-hur.”
This was too weird. This man, this version of Set who wasn’t possessed by an evil spirit, was completely different from the Set who’d taken immense pleasure torturing me over and over again.
“I, uh . . . it is nice to meet you,” I said, more or less at a loss for words.
Nuin clapped his hands, making me jump. “Splendid. Now that all the introductions are concluded, we shall return to the city. Hat-hur has come a long way, and we all have another long journey ahead of us. It would do us some good to get some rest.” After a brief pause, he added, “Tonight, we will feast in celebration of Hat-hur’s arrival. Tomorrow, we will finish our preparations, and as soon as we are ready, we shall leave Men-nefer.”
***
Much to my frustration, Nuin and I spent the short trip back to the temple district on different riverboats. I was joined by my original companions—the priestesses and Aset—along with Set, which only frustrated me further. It was so difficult to convince myself that he wasn’t the same Set who’d beaten me until more of my flesh was bruised than not. That he wasn’t the same Set who’d killed Marcus. That he wasn’t the same Set I’d killed in an alternate timeline.
I spent the entire trip focusing on taking deep, even breaths to keep myself from fully embracing the urge to panic. Our boats pulled off to a landing a few ramps down from the one the priestesses, Aset, and I had used when heading up to Pepi’s pyramid, but we still appeared to be in the same general area based on the wide, paved avenue and the tall mud-brick walls.
The boat carrying Nuin, along with Ipwet, Ankhesenpepi, and Heru, unloaded before ours, and it was impossible to separate Nuin from the two fairly irate women clinging to him. Call it a hunch, but I was getting the feeling that Khessie, Ipwet, and I weren’t destined to be best buds.
“Do not mind them,” Aset told me as we walked down the avenue, once again arm in arm. “They are petty. They love power and loathe any who threaten to take theirs.”
“But I have no desire to take their power,” I said as softly as possible, knowing that with her Nejerette hearing, Ankhesenpepi could overhear our conversation if we weren’t careful.
“Perhaps, but you have already taken some of their power simply by becoming Nuin’s wife. Add that to the power you already have—”
“But they don’t know about that.” I said.
Aset laughed
. “Perhaps, but to me, you practically glow with it, like a hundred stars are contained within your skin. But regardless, I would imagine they must feel like a house cat facing an attack from a desert cat.”
“But I’m not attacking them . . . and I have no reason to do so.”
With a shrug, Aset said, “I never said they were the most intelligent house cats.”
Were I not wound so tightly, I might have giggled. But I was afraid of what lie ahead. And I missed Marcus . . . and my sister, whose pregnancy I feared I might miss completely . . . and my mom and dad, who I hadn’t seen for months . . . and Alexander, my Nejeret grandfather, and his human wife, Grandma Suse. I missed them all, and none of them but Marcus had even been born yet.
As I studied my surroundings—limestone paving bricks and mud-brick walls that seemed to glow in the light of the sinking sun, and nothing less than a small parade of Nejerets and humans ahead and behind me—I’d never felt more alone.
7
Enemies & Nemeses
Our group of several dozen Nejerets and humans passed through a set of wooden double doors in one of the high, mud-brick walls, entering a large courtyard. It was surrounded by covered walkways on three sides, each lined with fluted columns painted a rich sienna at the base and bright yellows, oranges, and greens around the leaf-like capital.
Nuin pulled me aside almost as soon as I was within the walls and led me toward a doorway on the right side of the courtyard. It opened to a long, brightly painted hallway, at the end of which was another doorway, blocked by a rectangle of heavy linen dyed a cerulean as vibrant as the Mediterranean Sea. Much to my irritation, Ipwet followed. She was so close behind me, she was practically treading on my heels with each step.
Time Anomaly: A Time Travel Romance (Echo Trilogy, #2) Page 6
