by Aliyah Burke
She waved her hand, and instantly, Talios had his hand around the woman's arm. Immediately, Angela began to scream. “You can't do this to me! Damian, help me."
His eyes moved to the flickering ones of his hostess. “Is she safe?"
"Talios only hurts to protect me or himself.” She gave him her word. “He will see her safely home."
"That's all I care about.” Damian turned away from the fading screams of Angela as she was removed from the home. He was sorry for her a little, but in truth, she brought it on herself.
The second Talios disappeared with Angela, Amenitré's demeanor softened. Her eyes lost the edge they had obtained as she faced off with Angela. With a deep breath, she met Damian's gaze.
"Shall we continue?"
Damian couldn't quite put his finger on what he had seen, but there was something totally chilling about how Amenitré looked. Dangerous, deadly, powerful. “Please,” he got out.
"Something troubling you, Damian?"
He hesitated. How do you explain what you felt when it was less than flattering? “I'm fine. Just wondering about some things. Don't worry.” His teeth flashed as he shot her a grin.
He knew her gaze saw more than he wished it to, but she nodded her head and dropped it. “Very well. You continue to look while I go check on some things. I will be back soon.” Before he could say anything, her mouth had landed over his. She sucked his tongue in to her mouth and nipped it prior to releasing it. “Miss me,” she mumbled and walked away.
"Jesus,” he moaned as his cock twitched in his pants. “That woman is dangerous."
"You have no idea, Damian. You have no idea.” Her words hung, almost ominously, in the air as she left his side. Sekhmet paused before the door and looked back at the man perusing her collection as if he had been handed the world. Uncertainty filled her as her gaze followed Damian's movements.
What if...?
The confidence and defiance she was renowned for, the boldness she displayed when confronting her father, Ra, King of the Gods was gone. Hesitation, doubt, and fear of rejection filled her features.
For a brief moment, she was no longer one of the most feared goddesses. No longer the one who would destroy on a whim. No, the being who watched the tall figure of Damian Memphis Keith was simply a woman. A woman scared of losing the man she was in love with.
Without thinking, Sekhmet vanished and rematerialized in her sanctuary where her fingers delved deep into the pelts of her feline companions. “Even his name fits with me,” she said to them. “Memphis—a god's place to live. And I don't want to be without him."
"Then go to him, Goddess.” Talios spoke from the doorway to her pool.
"Yes, Talios. I shall.” Heading to her door, she stopped to look back at him. “The woman?"
"Home, believing she was struck ill."
Sekhmet nodded. “What would I do without you, Talios? Good work, thank you.” Unconsciously she spoke in Egyptian.
"Ever your servant, Goddess.” He bowed and walked away.
By the time she walked back into the ballroom, her features were schooled in a picture of serenity.
Damian continued to move throughout the room. He was in awe of the pieces Amenitre had in her collection. Some still looked to be in awesome condition and some were hard to tell exactly what they were.
However, beneath each piece sat a beautifully scripted piece of cardstock explaining each item. It must have taken so much money to accumulate this type of assortment. Damian paused in front of a large display of Sekhmet.
The goddess was represented the way he was used to seeing her, warlike, but also she was portrayed in a way that was rarely seen. The compassionate side of her. All of these artefacts were in stellar condition and he reached out to touch the glass when he felt Amenitre's presence behind him.
"This is a beautiful collection.” He continued to face the display, although his hand dropped back to his side.
"Thank you."
"I don't often see this other side of her."
"Not many do,” she mumbled.
Damian swallowed as the scent of the lotus blossom filled his nose. “You obviously care about her, for you wear her name around her neck."
"I do, and why not? We are one."
His gaze sliced to the side and landed upon her gorgeous face. “I'm sorry, what did you say? I could have sworn I heard you say ‘we are one,’ but that can't be.” He looked over her body. “You don't strike me as the type who is lost in a fantasy world where they are the reincarnated form of a mythological god or goddess.” His mouth quirked nervously.
Her eyes gleamed and turned even more golden. “You heard me right. And I am not the reincarnated form.” The smooth tone never changed. “I am Sekhmet."
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Chapter Six
Damian was struck dumb for a moment. He had no immediate response to that. Every logical fibre of his being told him it was impossible, but the look in her eyes told him she was positive it was the truth.
"You can't be. Sekhmet is a mythological being. Not real. She was a figment of their imagination,” Damian protested.
The gold eyes lost their softness. “She is real. Why else would there be over seven hundred statues of me along the west bank of the Nile, in front of the funerary temple of Amenhotep III? I don't care what you call her, ‘Avenger of Wrongs', ‘Scarlet Lady', ‘One Before Whom Evil Trembles', ‘Lady of Slaughter', ‘Lady of Flame', or ‘She Who Is Powerful'. And even ‘Eye of Ra'. None of it matters. She was real, is real and we are one and the same.” The tone was unyielding.
Shaking his head in denial, Damian refused to accept it. “No. I don't believe it."
Rolling her eyes in obviously growing exasperation, Sekhmet demanded, “What will it take to prove it to you?"
"It's impossible,” he muttered as his gaze moved over her body. No way can she be who she claims.
In a flash of light, Damian found himself looking at the woman he believed himself in love with. Gone were her tan sweater and jeans. His beautiful woman was dressed in leather, muted black leather pants and a vivid scarlet-red vest, which forced her breasts up until they seemed like they were about to fall out of their confinement.
Her hair was free of the ribbons and she stood proud before him. It looked like there was a fiery glow around her. His gaze moved down and he almost panicked when he saw two lionesses standing at her sides. One tawny and one solid black. Sitting on her left shoulder was a stunning falcon.
"Come with me, Damian Keith, and I will show you just what I am capable of.” Sekhmet flowed past him and he followed her as she had ordered.
She left the ballroom and walked to her bedroom. Damian barely had time to take in the luxuriousness of her room before she waved open the sliding doors that led out to the pool area.
Her motions were unhesitant as long, sure strides took her to the steps of the pool and she began to walk into the water. Damian stood at the edge and watched her.
"Pay attention, Damian,” she commanded in a hushed voice. She reached out and, with one finger, swirled the surface of the clear water in the pool.
Dark clouds formed in the water and as Damian looked on, amazed, as water cleared and he found himself looking at an Egyptian city. I must be having a dream.
"This is not a dream, Damian. I am going to show you one of my favourite places in Egypt. This is a dromos. I am sure you know what it means."
And he did. It was a straight, paved avenue flanked by sphinxes. “But where is it? When?"
"This is the Avenue of Sphinxes in Ancient Thebes, Egypt. Today it is known as Luxor. Come with me.” She reached her hand out towards him as he stood on the side of the pool. “Take my hand, Damian."
He did and immediately he felt as if he were covered by clouds; it was hard to decipher anything. Damian tightened his hold on her hand.
When the clouds were gone and he could see, Damian just about fainted. He was standing right in front of one of the sphinxes. Yet,
this one looked freshly made, not like it had sat exposed to the elements for centuries. These were pristine, untouched and unbeaten by the corrosion of time.
Reaching out to touch the work of art, he noticed that there were no cars anywhere. In fact, there were no tourists. Damian leaned against the magnificent statute, wobbly and out of breath.
"This can't be happening."
"I can take you anywhere you wish, whatever time you wish. I have never met anyone like you before, Damian.” Sekhmet seemed oblivious to the people who were milling around, working. Noticing him watching them, she said, “They can't see us."
"Why me?” he asked as he began to watch her.
"I don't know. You are different than anyone I know. I wanted to know more about you."
Anger filled him at the thought of being used. He clenched a hand at his side into a fist. “So, what? You can manipulate my mind?"
"I can compel you to do something, if I wished to do so."
"And you actually thought that would be the basis for a relationship?” Shoving away from the sphinx, he glared at her. Unmindful of the fact of whom and what she truly was, for he still wasn't sure it wasn't all a dream.
"I never forced you into anything."
"How the hell can I believe that? Jesus, you can manipulate people, travel through time and if history is correct, you have one hell of temper. Why should I believe one damn thing that comes out of your mouth?"
The lionesses at her side rose and growled a warning. “Are you mad because I entered into your mind and seduced you that way? Or because you don't like what you realise I truly am?"
He took a step towards her, only to stop at the forward movement of her companions. “You took advantage of me. I never had a chance to get to know you. You took my dream fantasy and took away my own will to make my own decision. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't respect my privacy.” Damian shook with anger.
Sekhmet bit back her instinctive response, which would have been rage. She had been warned this would happen. But she was still unprepared for the feeling that lanced her body at the thought of losing this mortal who had come to mean so much to her. What is this feeling moving through me? It hurts. She would have had to of been blind not to witness his gorgeous eyes overflow with the betrayal he felt.
"Be very careful with what you say next. You are in my favour now, but that doesn't mean it will last if you continue to hurl insults.” Her words were hard as the sphinx behind him.
"Don't you get it, Amenitré or Sekhmet, whichever you want to be called right now? I don't want to be in your favour. I want you to send me home and leave me the fuck alone!"
This was what her father had warned her about. The fragile male ego. So now she could let him go and nurse her wounds ... or force his love.
Her body flowed effortlessly toward him. She watched as he unintentionally shrank back from the large felines pacing beside her and the blankness in her stare. Sekhmet knew the image she portrayed when angry.
"It will be as you wish it.” Her tone was deadpan. One hand reached out and touched him on the shoulder and she knew that was all he remembered.
It felt like her heart had been ripped her from chest the second his physique disappeared from sight. Sekhmet opted to remain in the past. She was furious and hurt. Instinctively she knew if she didn't get a handle on her emotions, she could hurt him. And despite how she felt at this moment, she didn't want to harm him.
* * * *
Honk! Honk!
The blaring of the horns behind him snapped him alert. “Sorry, damn,” Damian muttered as he shifted and drove on.
"How'd I get here?” He had a huge headache. Flashes of being next to a sphinx in Egypt, yelling at Amenitré and finding out she was the goddess, Sekhmet. Shaking his head, he laughed without amusement; it must have been one hell of a dream.
As he drove home, Damian recognized the feeling of emptiness that filled his soul. Parking, he still didn't remember leaving her place. All he remembered was the shouting.
Damian was so lost in his thoughts he neglected to realise his door swung open without him unlocking it. The sound of breaking glass alerted him, but it was too late as a figure dressed in black shoved him into his table. With a loud crack, it broke under their combined weight.
Stars flashed before his eyes as something hard cracked against his arm and the side of his head. Two more blows rained down upon him before the pain-free world of unconsciousness welcomed him with open arms.
Opening his eyes, Damian noticed he was in the hospital. A nurse stood over him with a chart.
"What happened?” he asked in a low voice. “What am I doing here?"
Her dark eyes moved to his face. “You were attacked in your home. You've been here for a few hours. How are you feeling?"
Attacked? Damian frowned. None of that sounded familiar. “I want to know what happened."
She smiled. “There is an officer waiting to talk to you, I'll send him in.” A friendly pat on his arm and she was out through the curtain and replaced by a tall officer.
The man towered over the bed. “I need to ask you some questions,” he said in a gravelly voice.
"Look, I don't remember anything. I want you to tell me what you know,” Damian countered.
"I don't know what happened. That's what I am here to find out.” He remained standing.
"Ask your questions. But I don't know if I'll be able to help you.” Damian shut his eyes as the officer pulled out his notepad.
"What do you remember about the attack?"
Damian released a frustrated groan. His head was killing him, his right arm was in a cast and this man was annoying him. ‘Nothing. I told you, I don't remember anything."
"What about before? Where were you for the day? Maybe someone got mad at you and followed you home for retribution."
Retribution—something Sekhmet was famous for. “I spent the day...” He fell silent. I can't tell him I went to ancient Egypt; I'll be committed to a place that has ‘hug-me’ jackets. He opened his eyes.
"Doing?” the tall officer prompted.
"I was ... I was at Ms. Seini's home looking at her artefact collection."
"And afterwards?” The man had leaned forward, almost appearing excited. “And I will need more information about Ms. Seini."
Damian's eyes narrowed. It didn't matter who this man was, he didn't want him anywhere near Amenitré ... No, that wasn't right, her name was Sekhmet. Damian didn't want any male around her, except him. Despite what happened between them, he still felt something for her.
"Something wrong?” the officer questioned.
"Nope,” Damian snapped, barely managing not to growl at the man. “Not other than I was attacked in my home."
"Ms. Seini, what is her first name and where does she live?"
Fighting back waves of jealousy, Damian told him. After a moment he insisted, “I need to go home.” He struggled out of the hospital bed.
"I'll give you a lift and you can tell me if anything is missing. And after, I will check out this Ms. Amenitré Seini."
"Sure,” he muttered as he put his shoes on.
Sitting in the front seat of the patrol car, Damian could see nothing past the look of pain on her beautiful brown face as he lashed out at her. And now, he felt so empty inside. Alone. Hollow. Everything she said was a lie ... wasn't it? Myth has the foundation of truth to it.
Damian entered his apartment with the officer behind him. The only sound he could emit was a ragged gasp. His place was in shambles. Furniture overturned, broken dishes, chairs, and table, books scattered everywhere, and worst of all, only a few artefacts remained.
"Almost all of my artefacts are gone,” he lamented as the room began to spin.
"Do you have documented photos of them?” the man asked as he righted a chair.
"Of course, I do. They are ancient artefacts. I'm not stupid!” Damian lashed out. The cop looked at him and Damian raised his good arm. “I'm sorry. I'm just so pissed.”
Getting up, he grabbed his album and handed it to the officer and then took his seat again.
"Can you think of anyone who would want your collection?” The question came as the officer thumbed through the photo album of Damian's collection. “What about this other collector, Ms. Seini?"
"No!” he said forcefully. “She wouldn't do this."
He made some notes on his pad. “Anyone else?"
There was only one Damian could think of. Mr. Greg Henry. And so he told the cop everything he could about Mr. Henry. Even how he had approached him at the gala asking about his collection.
The officer left a bit later, leaving Damian alone. Head pounding, he took some medication and climbed into bed. He slept for the rest of the weekend, waking only to re-medicate and go to the bathroom. The mess was totally ignored.
* * * *
It was hard driving a stick shift with a broken arm. Damian heaved a sigh of relief as he finally pulled into his parking spot at work. His face was still battered but at least the gauze was not wrapped around his skull anymore. Grabbing his briefcase, he made his way to his office.
Angela was in the hall as he walked in. Her facial expressions ranged from anger to astonishment to shame. “Morning, Damian,” she said as she moved toward him. “What the hell happened to you?"
"I got attacked in my home,” he stated bluntly, holding her green gaze. “And whoever did it stole all my artefacts."
Angela couldn't hide her flinch. “Oh my God! That is terrible. Is there anything I can do for you?” She paused as if a thought just occurred to her. “You don't suppose it was Ms. Seini, do you?” Her dainty hand fluttered around her breasts.
"No. I know it wasn't her. It was a man that hit me, like a coward and from behind."
"Well, she does have that huge guy with her.” Angela slipped that bit in.
Would she? Damian shook his head. “No, I doubt it was her."
"Well, I'm here for you if you need anything. I have to get to class. Thanks for taking me with you to see her collection. I'm sorry I got so sick and had to leave.” With a wave, she disappeared down the fluorescent-lit hallway.
