A sound she accepted as normal. Instinctively, she held no fear of him. A memory surfaced—of her sinking into a raging river and Sobek catching her in his jaws to lay her on the rocky banks before turning to do battle with another creature in the water.
She shook her head. “You were with me … in the Duat.”
“I pulled you from Ammit’s grasp.” He stepped closer, his body tensing and his rounded snout sniffing at her.
Recalling from her readings his highly sexualized nature, Khepri drew back. The stories of his eating voraciously while he mated with equal fervor made her shiver. “You wanted my attention.”
His mouth separated, stretching backward in a toothy smile. “I wasn’t terribly subtle, was I?”
“If you wanted the whole of New Orleans to know they had a god in their midst, you couldn’t have been more explicit.” Her eyes widened instantly when she realized she’d just scolded a god.
Instead of biting off her head, he laughed. “I have missed you.”
“And I barely remember you. Why is that?”
“To protect you … and us. You may not remember, but you know us, don’t you? You know we are around you.”
She nodded. “I feel Amun’s presence.”
Sobek’s head canted. “He gave you a gift. How do you like it?”
His raspy roar was nearly a purr, and she frowned. The last thing she could discuss with this lecherous god was her denouement. “Only Amun has a right to know.”
“Always so loyal. Are you now torn between your master and your protector?”
Without blinking, she held his gaze. “I know what I must do. Why my murder was necessary. I won’t waver from my quest.”
“Ammit has left the Duat.”
Khepri froze at his blunt statement. The memory of the abject fear she’d felt moments before Sobek had hauled her from the subterranean river in the Duat was enough to tell her that every story she’d read about The Devourer of Hearts couldn’t begin to touch on her true evil. Sobek had come to warn her, but he was god. When it came down to a battle, would he side with humans, or would he fold inward and protect one of his own? That wasn’t a question she felt she could ask; instead, she let her gaze slide away. “Will she be eating women on river banks?”
A snort gusted. “She will likely be hiding among the humans. She prefers toying with her food to an honest, forthright conquest. I will be near—should you require my help.”
Again his voice had deepened, his intention clear. If she wanted him, he’d gladly partner with her sexually. “You no longer see me as Amun’s wife.”
“He has loosened his hold. Allowed you a lover. You are no longer forbidden.”
“I have a lover.”
He sniffed. “A human. I am so much more.”
While mild horror spilled like cool water down her spine, a stir of curiosity curled inside her belly, too. She shook her head. She really didn’t need the distraction he would provide. “I am quite satisfied.”
“For the moment.”
“For the moment,” she said, giving him a slight nod, wanting to mollify his pride. She needed allies, not gods with their noses out of joint. “What of Amun? Will he be near?”
“You don’t remember him at all, do?”
“No.”
Rich, warm chuckles echoed in the cavern. “You remember me, and not him. I’ll have to tell him. He’s been pining for your company.”
“Pining?”
“You interest him. So clever and strong. So human, and yet so open. A warrior’s ruthlessness with a child’s wonder.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His hands fisted on his hips. A deep sigh soughed, blowing warmly across her forehead. “Be vigilant. That is his message. Know that Ammit may already be among you.”
“How will I fight her? How will I know the nameless one who called her?”
“Use your powers, Amun’s wife. You will see.”
Khepri snorted. “And you had to murder a woman to deliver that message?”
“No, I was hungry.” His mouth widened again. “We must go.”
“Wait. Is this place the Duat?”
“No. It is the place you awoke. The place you waited until Amun retrieved you.”
She glanced one more time around the cavern, at the swirling lights above, heard the mournful whistle of the wind, felt the dry air parching her skin. “Will I be here again?” she asked, hoping with all her might she’d never see it again.
“Only if it is Amun’s will.”
For the first time, her husband’s name froze her in fear.
In the blink of an eye, Sobek fell forward, his body transforming into the crocodile. She raised her arms and held her breath, knowing what was coming. Again, she was in the water. His jaw eased open, and she swam upward, breaking the surface.
“Khepri! Jesus!” Justin shouted.
He was behind her. She turned as best she could to give him a wan smile.
Justin was soaked to the skin, his shirt sticking to his large frame. He waded deeper into the water.
“Don’t detective,” a man in uniform cried out. “The croc.”
But Justin ignored him, striding toward her, and then swimming closer. Not a strong swimmer, she paddled with her hands, bobbing to keep her head above the surface.
A strong arm wrapped around the front of her chest, drawing her onto her back, and then powerful surges moved her toward the bank.
There, hands reached out to slide her onto the soft ground. Mr. Haddara’s.
“Her clothes are shredded,” a man said from beyond the Egyptian, “but where’s the blood?”
“I wasn’t harmed. He is gone.”
Mr. Haddara took in a deep breath, his chest filling. His gaze steadied on her, and he gave her a small nod.
“That your So-bic?” Justin asked, on his knees beside her and leaning toward her face.
She nodded. “Yes. He is gone.”
Fury blazed in his eyes. A grim tension gripped his jaw and caused a tic to pulse beside one eye. His glance shot to the man beside her who was beginning to wrap a black band around her arm. “She’s fine.”
“But she was under for too long.”
“I’ll take her to the hospital myself.”
The other man’s black brows furrowed, but he gave a nod. The band eased with a harsh scraping sound, and Khepri found herself tugged to a sitting position and then hefted into Justin’s arms.
Grateful for his embrace, she snuggled her face into the corner of his shoulder, hiding herself from the gawkers gathered around them. “It is a long way to your car.”
“Just shut up.”
Her mouth quirked. He was angry enough to be rude—which meant he’d been truly frightened for her. She lifted her head to stare at his hard profile. “Do you believe me now?”
His eyebrows lowered, darkening his deep-set eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck to believe anymore. I saw what happened. Same as a dozen other cops.”
Khepri trailed a finger down his cheek. “I was never in any danger.”
“That so? You were that goddamn sure when you stepped up to that bank it wasn’t just some giant alligator?”
Her hesitation had him cussing under his breath. “That’s what I thought. I saw your face. You closed your eyes to pray, but when it lunged out to grab you, you weren’t so sure.”
Shame swept through her. She’d doubted, for just a second, instead of putting all her faith in her husband. She’d doubted. Hesitations like that could cost her everything. The moment she’d stopped to pray, she’d needed to gird herself to overcome her fear—not of death, but of never seeing Juste again. He’d become more than just an ally. He’d become a destination.
Chapter Nineteen
Juste left Khepri at Denise’s with instructions and a wad of cash for them to find the right clothes for her to attend the museum’s gala.
Denise had eyed Khepri’s shredded clothing, but other than a
tightening of her plump lower lip, she’d kept her thoughts to herself.
His former partner’s wife likely thought he’d gotten a little overzealous. Juste didn’t know whether to be flattered or appalled that Denise thought he’d shred the clothes of a woman he slept with.
After dropping Haddara at the museum and picking up Mikey, they headed back to the station so they could catch up their notes and Mikey could call Maines to fill him in on their progress, or rather, lack of it.
Mikey sat quietly beside him.
Juste realized with a pang in his chest that he knew the younger officer well enough to know that something was eating him. “Out with it,” he mumbled.
Mikey firmed his mouth and shook his head.
“You think I crossed a line. With Khepri.”
“I’m not sayin’ a word. Just mindin’ my own business here.”
Juste grunted. “You think I’ve put both our careers at risk.”
“Since I’m the one bein’ quiet, those must be your thoughts bouncin’ round this car.”
Juste blew out a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to get involved.”
“What? She just fell out of her clothes? Right onto your d—”
Juste coughed. “Seriously, going there?”
“You brought it up.”
Juste winced at his choice of words.
Mikey crossed his arms over her chest. “Heard a crocodile plucked her up and carried her off, but she doesn’t have even a damn bruise on her body. A uniform said he could see almost all of her pretty skin, so that raises more questions, don’t you think?”
Juste tightened his jaw. “Does it?”
Mikey’s gaze swung his way. “As your partner, don’t you think you should be readin’ me in on the what the fuck’s goin’ on?”
Juste grimaced. “Remember when she said she’d died a long time ago and been resurrected?”
“Yeah?”
“Well …” Juste couldn’t believe he was about to say it out loud. “I think she was tellin’ the truth.”
From the corner of his eye, he watched his partner, gauging his reaction by the quick drop of his jaw and then the tight furrowing of his brow before he aimed an incredulous gaze his way. “You’re pullin’ my leg, right? Well, it’s not funny.”
Juste shook his head. “You had to be there, Mikey. When she went down in the museum, something happened. Something came out of her back. Light. Looked kinda like a bird, but with her face. It had wings. Then there in the park …” Juste shot him a glance. “A dozen of us saw a crocodile pick her up in its jaws and take her under. It spit her out five minutes later without a scratch. You explain to me how the hell that happened.”
Mikey shrugged. “Maybe it didn’t like the way she tasted.”
“Not fucking likely.”
“What did she say happened?”
“She said it was So-bic, some kinda Egyptian god. It wanted to have a conversation with her.”
“About what?”
“The fact there’s another god, bigger and meaner than the croc, headin’ our way.”
Mikey wiped a hand over his face. “What the hell am I supposed to tell Maines? I tell him you’re sleepin’ with a woman you picked up at a crime scene, he’ll kick you off the force in a heartbeat. I tell him you think she’s some kinda Egyptian goddess—”
“She’s not a goddess. She’s Amun’s wife.”
“And that’s s’posed to make this any easier to swallow?”
“No, you choose what the hell you want to say to that bastard. I just thought that since we’re partners …”
Mikey’s expression eased. “That’s the first time you’ve said that without looking like you wanted to take a crap.”
Juste rolled his eyes. “You were so much more polite when you were kissin’ my ass.”
“That was before I realized you’ve fuckin’ lost your mind.” And then he chuckled. The chuckle grew into a deep belly laugh.
Juste couldn’t help it. A smile tugged at his mouth until he was grinning. “We’re a pair.”
“Let’s just figure out what to tell your old boss so he doesn’t bust us both down to janitors.”
The dispatcher broke in, reporting an incident on Canal street, possible explosions, and listing a woman’s clothing store.
Juste’s chest tightened; he popped his light onto the roof of his car, flipped the switch to send it spinning, and made a U-turn in the middle of the street.
“Lemme guess,” Mikey shouted, “that where Denise and Khepri went shopping?”
“Yup.”
“You ever think she might be safer in lockup?”
“Yup. Dammit, she better be okay.”
After Mikey told dispatch they were on the way, they kept silent until Juste pulled to a screeching halt in front of the dress shop. Both men stared through the windshield at what was left of a large plate glass window at the front of the shop. Inside, lights popped and arced. Smoke billowed. Mannequins were a jumble of limbs pushed up against the glass—a mountain of glossy white bodies with frayed scraps of cloth rimming necks or hips.
Juste reached inside his jacket for his weapon. Mikey did the same. They both eased out of the vehicle, crouching beside their doors as they tried to get a bead on what was happening inside the store. All the while Juste kept breathing, slowing, in and out to stem the panic rising up the back of his throat.
“You go ‘round back,” Juste said quietly, looking through the car to Mikey on the opposite side.
“Gimme two,” Mikey said, then took off at a lope, disappearing down the alleyway next to the light-blue-painted brick building.
Juste still hadn’t seen any movement inside, so he hurried toward the door, crouching beneath the window and darting a quick glance around the door.
Inside, the shop was filled with gray, hazy smoke. Clothing racks were twisted, clothes strewn about the floor. The crackle of flames was getting louder, and the air was filled with the scent of burning wire and black powder.
Someone had set off a bomb. A small one, because it hadn’t completely incinerated the interior of the shop, but one large enough to completely trash its contents.
“Smell that?” Mikey’s voice broke over the radio.
“Yeah, it was a bomb. You set?”
He didn’t wait for Mikey’s response and eased up, pulling open the glass door with a few hard yanks because it appeared to be bent its frame. Then he entered. He held his weapon at the ready, but didn’t really expect the person responsible to be inside. They didn’t have suicide bombers in New Orleans.
The smoky air filled his lungs and he cleared his throat before shouting. “Khepri, Denise!” He unclipped his flashlight from his belt and held it up, because the lights were gone and the sunlight filtering through the windows didn’t reach the back of the store.
Muffled cries came from farther inside, near a wall of intact dressing rooms. He stood to the side of one door and pushed it open, weapon held high. It was empty, so he moved to the next.
When he reached the last one, he stared good and long at what he found inside.
“Place is clear,” Mikey said, a handkerchief held over his nose. His gaze widened as he stared into the crowded confines of the room.
Juste’s flashlight caught four women, two of them Khepri and Denise, huddled inside, a plastic garment bag surrounding them, but billowed out like a bubble. Inside the inflated bag, they looked completely unharmed.
His gaze sought Khepri’s, and she gave him a small, pinched smile. He pointed at the bag. “Can you get rid of that? Danger’s past.”
Khepri reached out and poked a nail at the bag, it burst like a balloon, and suddenly the noise inside the room increased tenfold as the two women he didn’t recognize launched themselves toward the door, shrieking and sobbing.
He leaned away to let them past, then held out his hand to Denise. “Mikey you take Khepri,” he said, giving her a look that said she better not think about disappearing in the next few minutes.
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Denise squeezed his hand hard, and he put his arm around her back, helping her pick her way through debris and out onto the street.
Fire trucks had arrived, and firemen were scurrying into the building as paramedics attended to the two saleswomen who’d been the first out of the door.
Juste waved away the first responders and led Denise to his vehicle. He opened the passenger-side door and helped her sit, facing outward, while he knelt beside her.
Denise didn’t look at him. Her sturdy frame quivered.
“You okay?” he asked, keeping his voice low and soothing.
Her face turned sharply toward him. “Am I okay?” she asked, her voice rising at the end. “A damn unibomber waltzed into the store and tossed a bomb at us. Right at your girlfriend. I knew I was dead. Prayed for my babies.” Her face crumpled and she beat a fist against his chest. Her next breath was a deep, indrawn gasp, “An’ what does she do? She throws a big ole piece of Saran wrap over our heads. Made a damn bubble for us.”
Juste felt her terror and understood her confusion. But he’d been living with it for a day now. “How’d that work out?”
Her nose wrinkled, and her teary eyes blinked to clear. “The explosion, it was all around us, shit flyin’, and …” She shook her head. “We huddled inside the bubble, holding each other, an’ we were fine.” She sniffed and swiped her nose with the back of her hand. Her gaze pinned him. “What’s goin’ on, Juste? She some kinda angel?”
His mouth twitched. He didn’t think angels orgasmed quite so loudly. “I’m grateful you’re okay. You know you’re gonna have to come down to the station with me.”
“I know. And you’re avoiding my question.” She sighed.
“Would you do me a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Leave out the fact she’s my … girlfriend?”
Her tears completely dry now, she blinked. “Hell, she just became my best friend.”
Chapter Twenty
Khepri rode with Michael, Juste, and Denise to where Juste worked—a noisy place that smelled a little like mildew and lot like unwashed bodies. The sounds filling the space were even more overwhelming: incessant ringing, voices talking over other voices.
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