Goddess, Spellbound

by Masters, Cate

  Adrenaline pumped up her heart rate. With a screech, she brought the blade down on the snake. Its hissing head rolled off the bed. She shoved the writhing body to the floor.

  Iker jerked up to a sitting position.

  “Don’t move.” Her heightened senses once again pinpointed the serpents on either side—one climbing the headpost and the second scaling at the bottom. Following her instinct, she first jabbed the one at the top, then brought the knife down on the second, splitting its neck.

  “More are approaching from the terrace.” Iker’s hushed warning was no less urgent. He grabbed another knife from the table beside the bed.

  Her crazy night vision and the clammy scent assaulting her told her he was right. They slithered in like soldiers in formation, too many for only two people to battle.

  She centered her mind on the cats at the tunnel. We need your help. Hurry. “I don’t suppose you have a torch handy.”

  “Only a blade of lightning.” He slashed off the head of two snakes in quick succession to prove it, then turned to the serpents hissing at him as they slithered toward his feet and likewise chopped them in two.

  She jabbed her knife at each approaching snake and surprised herself by landing the edge exactly where it needed to for a clean, quick kill each time. No matter how fast she slashed, more kept coming. “We need help!”

  From another room, a muffled cry sounded. Alarm shot through her. She whispered a fast prayer of protection for their hosts. A cat’s screech followed, then its growl. Yes! Good kitty. The guide’s voice came through in abrupt spurts, either curses or commands.

  An echo of feline yowls sounded on the balcony. Sanura almost laughed with relief. The cats had come to help. Somehow, they’d heard her plea.

  The reptiles in the bedroom issued a collective hiss.

  “That’s right. You’re doomed.” With renewed vigor, she attacked the snakes within her reach. Reluctant to touch her feet to the floor, she kept her knife moving from atop the bed until their slithering retreat.

  At the bizarre spectacle before her, she sat back to watch in amazement. Reptiles and felines moved together in a primal dance, claws shredding scaly flesh and forked tongues flicking at furry bodies. Many ropy bodies on the floor had stopped slithering, completely immobile. The cats ran to meet a new wave of intruding snakes, and soon had either batted them from the balcony or rendered them lifeless as the others.

  Sanura pumped her fist in the air. “Yes. I love you all so much.”

  Beside her, Iker watched, open-mouthed. So freaking serious. He should be shouting with joy too.

  A laugh, and she nudged his shoulder. “Aren’t they freaking fantastic?”

  “Yes.” He clamped his jaw shut.

  “A little more enthusiasm would be nice.” She swung her legs over the bed. Her toes landed on something soft and squishy. With a squeal, she pulled her feet up again.

  In an instant, he rocketed to her side and peered over the edge. “What is it?”

  Muscles rippled along his arms and shoulders, and she had to force her gaze away. “Kind of a creepy mess down there.”

  The door burst open. The bulky silhouette of a man loomed there, scimitar in hand. Sanura braced to fight again until he asked, “Are you injured?”

  Iker said, “We are unharmed.”

  “Yes, thanks to the cats.” Why did she have to keep reminding him?

  The man relaxed his stance but kept his sword raised. “We must leave this place before others attack.”

  Sanura gathered herself, rose and scouted for a bare spot on the floor upon which to land. Before she could pounce, Iker swept her into his arms. She looped an arm around his neck and nestled against his chest.

  “Do not defile yourself on the enemy.”

  Unaccustomed to being borne through rooms, she suppressed a giddy laugh. The ride, she decided, would have been much more enjoyable had he shown a smidgeon of pleasure. By the time he set her on her feet in the next room, she vowed to get something else from him, something more valuable—a smile.

  Her own good humor disappeared when they followed the man outside. Every darkened alleyway, every passing stranger became a threat. No one outwardly challenged them, but the weight of hidden eyes followed them to the outskirts of the city.

  Haltered and saddled, two camels stared complacently at her.

  “Are we riding those?” She glanced at Iker, afraid to see his silent answer.

  The man grabbed the silken rope reins of one animal and jerked his head at the other. “Help her up, and then mount.” In one swoop, he sat atop the camel.

  I did not sign up for this. But when Iker crouched, hands cupped low and arched a brow invitingly, she stepped one foot up as daintily as she could. He helped her sail aboard, surprisingly graceful for a lifelong klutz like her. Next she knew, he nestled behind her, his warmth and strength like an intoxicating elixir, his presence magnifying her awareness. The night seemed to thrum with expectancy. Everything in the universe worked in their favor, and for the first time in her life, she was where she belonged. In this moment, with Iker, traveling toward a destination that had a sense of the inevitable about it. She was needed here, and no one else could do the task laid out before her.

  If Fate was sending her a message, she received it loud and clear.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Like sand swept from a windowpane, the strangeness of the new world to which Iker had awakened had fallen away when they’d emerged from the confusion of the tunnels to find themselves in Luxor, in his beloved country. Much of the city had changed over time, yes, but much remained the same. He could function here, reconstruct parts of his old life to build a new one. This knowledge firmly grounded him. The unsettledness plaguing him had vanished.

  The instant he mounted the camel behind Sanura, he was struck by a tumultuous mixture of emotions—sadness that the world in which he’d lived and loved and belonged was forever gone; excitement about the yet-undiscovered surprises this new Egypt might hold; and an urgent eagerness to complete the task awaiting them. Once finished, he would be free to live his life as he wished, no longer under the centuries-old command of a needy queen.

  One question remained. Would Sanura become equally demanding and needy? Power could transform a person, corroding sweetness into harsh hungering for more, no matter how much possessions or land they owned. Even someone as sweet as Sanura.

  And she was sweet, excruciatingly so. From the dark strands of her hair teasing his cheek in the breeze to her alluring curves that fit against him as if fashioned by the loving hands of the gods for him alone. He’d never put much stock in destiny, believing instead in determination and hard work. But he couldn’t deny that since he’d awakened to serve her, his existence had a certain “rightness.” At this moment, the sensation had an overwhelming quality, seeping into his senses like fine wine, leaving him awash in a languorous bliss.

  His conduct was unbefitting of a warrior. Ahead of them lay a battle, one that could cost both their lives. He’d pledged his own to see it through, but guilt about involving Sanura followed him like a cursed wraith.

  On a night such as this, with an unusually brilliant crescent moon and thousands of stars bedazzling the skies, and a woman whose great beauty inside equaled her unrivaled outward beauty, such dark thoughts held less threat. The sway of her hips in rhythm with the camel’s stride left him spellbound, desire binding his senses like a silky, sheer veil. With each step, her ass grazed his crotch. He grew unbearably hard and inched backward, hoping some distance would calm his physical reaction to her. From now on, he had to keep his wits about him.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” she said over her shoulder. “Everything okay back there?”

  “Yes. Very good.” Except the extra space didn’t help his problem. If he could divert their camel unnoticed, he’d take her on the sand.

  Her laugh had the joyous ring of bells. “I never thought I’d enjoy traveling by camel.” She curled her back against his chest an
d sighed.

  “Other modes of transport are more efficient, but yes, camels have a certain appeal.” If this camel had a longer rear end, however, his desperate plight would ease.

  She shifted against him, and he withheld a groan.

  “Why are we going so far from Luxor? Don’t we just need to cross the Nile to reach the Valley of the Kings?” Her soft voice caressed him like a lover.

  He might have been drowning in the river of desire, but the warrior in him rose above. “True, but we could not chance taking a direct route. The vizier likely sent servants to ambush us.”

  “How can he stay so hateful toward Hatshepsut?”

  “The queen pharaoh’s brother paid a great price for User’s loyalty.”

  “But still, after all this time? There has to be more than money behind an all-consuming need for revenge.”

  “The vizier’s soul likewise hangs in the balance. If he fails, history will know of his treachery and greed. His decades of service will be rendered meaningless.”

  “Was he a good man when you knew him?”

  “He was… dedicated. He accomplished many good deeds.” If mere deeds defined a man, some might call the vizier ‘good’. Iker knew first-hand of User’s traitorous ways, and had heard too many other tales of the vizier’s cruel means to achieve his ends.

  “How sad for him.”

  Surprise took Iker away from his thoughts. “Why?”

  “Because he allowed something so awful corrupt his life and rob his legacy of integrity.”

  “Yes, he did.” A cautionary lesson. A reminder not to allow distractions interfere, not even goddesses. Especially when the vizier could use such weaknesses against Iker.

  She straightened suddenly, her neck arching graceful as a swan’s. “Look, there’s the Nile.” Excitement and awe edged her hushed tone.

  “Yes.” The Nile—memories rushed back to him in a flood. How many times had he accompanied the queen pharaoh on trips, both business and pleasure? For five years, he’d acted as her guard by day and her lover by night. He’d fulfilled both duties, but Hatshepsut’s unbending nature provided him with no pleasure in either. Her sickness during the last year of her life had provided him some peace, though he had never wished her ill.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Sanura twisted toward him.

  Had she discerned his anger? Iker thought he’d left his bitterness behind, but treading old paths unearthed old wounds as well. He’d once yearned for another woman, one whose soft-spoken ways gave him hope for some happiness. But User, citing her lowly rank, had ensured the queen pharaoh put an end to Iker’s hope of marrying her. Fire ignited in his gut at the treachery, and his hand tightened in a strangling hold around the reins. Both had betrayed him, yet he’d given his life to Hatshepsut. The fates instead had led him to Sanura. He was not sorry.

  He drew the camel to a halt. “I am well. We must hurry.”

  Another man emerged from the shadows. Their guide approached him, and they spoke in low tones, their conversation terse and brief.

  Iker slid to the ground and by instinct, reached up for Sanura. She flowed into his arms, descending like a holy vision. As she filled his embrace, she stole his breath with her grace and beauty. The stars themselves would be envious.

  Hands splayed against his chest, she tilted her head. “Iker?”

  “Sanura.” He could barely breathe, let alone think.

  “Didn’t you say we had to hurry?”

  The luster left his vision. “Yes, the vessel awaits.” He released her and strode toward the row of docks.

  Their guide’s gaze followed as he passed. The man would suspect him as a traitor if Iker didn’t concentrate on his duty.

  About a dozen vessels were tied to the docks. He headed toward a lit lantern near a medium-sized boat.

  The man gestured to a smaller one. “This one, please.”

  “Of course.” Iker led Sanura into the vessel and stepped inside after her.

  “You’re beginning to worry me.” She scooted to one side of the seat.

  “I am grateful for your concern, but there is no need.” He settled onto the bench behind hers and took up the oars, unwilling to admit he was beginning to worry about himself.

  Their guide slipped the rope from the post. The boat barely rocked when the man entered and sat opposite them.

  The smooth strokes of the paddles in the water helped draw his thoughts away from the matter. He slipped into his old habit of servitude, letting his mind go blank except for the objective ahead of him. Their small boat was a far cry from the grand vessel used by Hatshepsut, its silken curtains flowing in the hot breezes, barely shielding the interior from spying eyes. Unlike the queen pharaoh, Sanura sat beneath the night skies and tilted back her head, her smile evidence enough she was enjoying the view.

  Iker pried his gaze from her and focused on their guide instead. The man’s narrowed gaze constantly scanned ahead and to the sides, alert for danger.

  Iker kept watch for movement behind their boat, but if any followed, they knew how to hide in the shadows.

  His muscles had begun to strain when they neared the shore. Following the man’s gestures, he helped steer toward a smaller dock away from the central one. With swift and sure motions, the man secured the vessel and stepped onto the wooden dock, sending ripples through the water as the platform rocked.

  Clasping the man’s extended hand, Iker leapt out beside him. Both lifted Sanura from the vessel.

  “Thank you.” She peered around them. “No camels?”

  Their guide jerked his head. “My brethren await nearby with horses. Come.”

  Eyes wide, she silently pleaded with Iker.

  “You will be fine.” With his hand at the small of her back, he guided her ahead.

  “Horses don’t like me. I haven’t ridden since… oh geez. Seventh grade summer camp. That did not end well. At. All.”

  Her pitiful expression struck his heart. One vision of them atop a mighty steed together hardened him again, and helped him harden his heart against her. “The horses tire too easily if riders double up. You can do this. Trust me, Sanura.”

  She squared her shoulders. “You’re right, I can. I will.” Through the strength she displayed, puzzlement showed. “What?”

  He mentally shook off the awe, admiration and pride that had temporarily overcome him. “Nothing.” If he pointed out she appeared ready to meet the enemy and flay them with one claw, she might question herself again.

  Pursing her lips, she assessed him with a glance. “I still think something’s not right with you. I’m going to keep an eye out.”

  He allowed a brief grin. “You are descended from The All-Seeing Eye, after all.”

  “A joke!” She lightly punched his shoulder. “Excellent progress, Excellent One. There’s hope for you yet.” Sleek as a cat, she sauntered after their guide with a lightness in her step he hadn’t seen before.

  Less light on his feet, he strode beside her. “I pray there is hope enough for us both.” Not something he relied on, but with her new attitude, he might begin to believe.

  The man offered the reins of a horse, black as night, to Sanura.

  She blew out a breath and lunged ahead. Wild-eyed, hooves dancing in the sand, the horse tossed its head and nickered.

  Iker murmured softly to the steed before advising her, “Proceed slowly, Sanura. Do not pounce like a kitten on a plaything.”

  “I wasn’t.” She turned petulant, then softened. “Whoa, Nelly.” She spoke more softly and stroked the horse’s neck. “I’m getting on now. Take it easy, okay? Don’t toss me into the nearest dune.” With one slow upward motion, she rested atop the saddle. “Good horse.” She smiled at Iker. “And good work, horse whisperer.”

  He knit his brow. “I do not understand.”

  “No, I guess you wouldn’t. Remind me after we finish here and I’ll show you.”

  “I will.” He would remember. This moment would be etched in his memory as the one t
hat revealed her belief they would succeed. And in the aftermath, they would remain together.

  His heart leapt when the horse began to rear. He reached for the reins but Sanura snapped them tight, forcing the animal’s head down. The steed chomped at the bit, front legs prancing, but not rearing up.

  She leaned over the horse’s neck. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, I’m staying put so no more circus tricks.” She rubbed the mane and straightened with a smug grin.

  Iker stifled his pride. A nod of approval, and he mounted the third horse. “We’re ready,” he told the man.

  A kick, and the man’s stallion took off at a gallop.

  During the journey, Iker rode at her side to help her if needed, but his confidence waned only once when he looked over at Sanura. The vision of her instantly restored his pride. Back curved, she arched over the horse, bouncing in the saddle but secure as a cat with claws firmly attached.

  The crescent moon had risen higher by the time they reached the Valley of the Kings and slowed their horses.

  Their guide drew his stallion to a halt. “Wādī Abwāb al Mulūk.”

  Before Iker could translate for Sanura, she said, “The Valley of the Gates of the Kings.” The awe in her voice matched her expression. “More amazing than I imagined.”

  More majestic than Iker had remembered too. Surrounded by towering mountains, it appeared a forbidding fortress. Inside, a maze of tunnels held the burial sites of pharaohs and their families.

  Iker slid off his horse, words unequal to express the joy brimming in his heart.

  After dismounting, Sanura stood beside him. “Would I sound crazy if I said I felt like I was home?”

  “Not to me.”

  Their guide pointed to the Theban Hills. “The journey becomes more arduous from here. We must continue on foot.”

  Sanura gazed in the direction he indicated. “The peak of al-Qurn. Do your people still guard the tombs from the hills beneath?”

  Her knowledge impressed Iker. She recognized the mountainous summit, though its outline melded with the dark skies.