by Jackie Ivie
“Hello there, your majesty!”
Geena turned her face into Sokar’s shoulder. It was against everything she’d been taught and experienced. She sucked back a sob. She was not going to cry. She never did. She refused to start now. Crying was the equivalent of weakness.
“Everything is prepared?”
Sokar’s question sent a weird vibration, as if his voice boomed through her. It also echoed, defining an enclosed space. Geena sniffed. She couldn’t face him. Not yet.
“Ready when you are.”
“Very good. You may proceed.”
Sokar dropped his ushabti somewhere. She heard the slightest rustle as it landed. Despite her grip he pulled her to his front, into his arms, and sat. His suit coat twisted across his back, but that didn’t seem to hamper him much. The enclosure about them shuddered. As if she really was in a small jet. And it really was getting ready to take off. But for that to be true, the cabin needed to tilt.
On cue, the ascent started, pushing her against Sokar. Geena huddled there until the plane leveled off. And then she counted off eight more seconds before moving. She couldn’t stay. It felt far too heavenly. And that was just not right.
Geena wriggled. His arms loosened. She pushed backward, rocked slightly atop his thighs, and watched his shirtfront for several more moments. It was time for answers. No matter how horrid they might be. She wasn’t a weak-willed vapid female. She was strong. Tough. And deadly.
“Um. Sokar?”
She should have waited. She didn’t sound self-assured and composed. She sounded incredibly young. And frightened.
“Yes?”
His voice rumbled through her body again. Her heart thudded as the pulsations reached there. That was disconcerting. Maybe she’d be better served sitting in a separate seat.
“I...don’t understand this.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I learned of immortality a long time ago, habibi, but I still recall. I was disbelieving, too. Incredulous. Skeptical. Despite being desperate at the time.”
“Desperate?”
“I was near death. Murdered by the hand of my own brother.”
“Sokar. Please. I can’t bend reality that far. Okay? You are not a vampire. They don’t exist. It’s not possible.”
“Take your time, little one. We have that. Eons of it. Trust me.”
“You need to tell me what’s really going on. And be truthful this time. Okay?”
“Very well. What do you want to know?”
He ran a finger along her arm, starting at her elbow and moving upward. Geena’s shoulder lifted before he reached it. All kinds of reactions burst into being. She didn’t dare look up. Her breasts tightened. Her belly quivered. The area around her heart warmed rapidly and markedly. She didn’t know which sensation was the worst.
“Perhaps I...should move to another...seat.”
The words limped out. His finger stopped just beneath her chin.
“Is that what you wish?”
He held his breath, as if worried over her answer. And something was really odd here. She was holding her breath, too. Geena steeled herself and looked up. Sokar’s greenish-yellow eyes gleamed, as if polished by a patina of moisture.
“Who named you Sokar?”
“I did.”
“Not your parents?”
“My parents were long dead.”
“Okay. We need a ground rule. You answer truthfully, but without putting vampirism into the equation. Can you do that?”
“I shall try.”
He looked like he spoke truthfully. There wasn’t a shred of guile showing in his eyes. Geena was snagged. Gazing into Sokar’s eyes was addictive. Intoxicating. Mesmeric. She couldn’t seem to pull away. She must be weaker than she thought. She sighed audibly. His lips twitched, showing he heard it.
“Um. Why did you choose a name of a god of the dead?”
“Tombs were being robbed. Sacred mummies of kings and queens defiled. Unwrapped for their amulets and then burned. I moved my father’s tomb. I needed a curse to protect it and a name to back the curse. Sokar was a good one to choose.”
“What’s your real name?”
“Which one?”
“The real one.”
“Pharaohs have five names.”
Pharaohs have five names. He’d just said pharaohs. That really should bother her more.
“My birth name is Senusret. I picked out Horus Menkaure for my Horus name. Ahmose for my two-ladies name. My golden Horus name would have been Senusret the Fourth, as would my Son of Re—”
“Uh. Wait. Wait. Back up. What is a two-ladies name?”
“You have noted the vulture and cobra on the crown? They are on most statues. Right at the front.”
Had she?
Geena was having a hard time concentrating. And worse. She really didn’t want to. He took her expression to mean agreement and continued his explanation. Good thing. There was a light humming sound filling her ears. It didn’t come from the plane engines.
“These carvings represent Nekhbet and Wadjet, goddesses of the two lands, Upper and Lower Egypt. They are known as the two ladies. Every pharaoh has a name for their use.”
“Oh, Sokar. This is too unreal for me. I mean...”
Her voice trailed off. It had something to do with how he’d moved his hands. He had both of them at her back and shoulders and was massaging all kinds of pleasure into being with each stroke. It felt wonderful despite being utterly wrong. She yawned.
“Where...are we going?” The words were slurred. No. She clarified it mentally. They sounded more like they’d been purred.
“My compound.”
“You have a com...pound?”
“Yes. I have many of them.”
“You do?”
“I have lived a very long time, habibi. I have had many compounds constructed. In many areas of the world. All underground. Hidden. Where it is safest. We are going to the one near the fortress my great-grandfather built. As you already know, Buhen is underwater. Not my compound. I built into the hills far from the fortress. But thanks to humanity and the Aswan Dam, I now have what is, in essence, waterfront property.”
Geena giggled. And then stilled. She never giggled. There wasn’t much in life worth it. Her eyes probably would have widened if they didn’t feel so leaden. Her body so flexible. Pliable. Warm.
“Just don’t go putting me in any harem, Sokar. That would be unforgiveable. Okay?”
“Oh. Habibi. Never. You have my word.”
Sokar was an immense man. Solid. Comforting. Perching on his lap, gazing into his eyes was beyond addictive. It was compulsory. His arms had encircled her with his massage. He tightened them now and pulled her close. Geena should struggle. Strike out. Defend. Anything other than snuggle. There was no way he was a vampire. He was so warm. So alive. She could hear his heart pounding, beating in tandem with hers. It soothed. Protected. Reassured.
This was despicable. Underhanded. And absolutely perfect.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“All right. This is beyond ridiculous. Where do you shop, a Moroccan bazaar?”
Sokar’s eyes went to the arched doorway where Geena stood. The doorway was twenty feet high, gloriously inset with mosaic to look like a view of the Nile. When the fields were lush and green after an inundation had settled. Flocks of birds filled the skies. Boats plied the waves. The design was vividly colored and overly ornate, but that could be said of this entire compound. He’d been in one of his art phases. Learning and then using construction techniques and visual arts had helped with the passage of years. He’d been a willing pupil with decades to master any craft. Compound Buhen was one result. The entire place was a mixture of architectural styles and designs. He hadn’t realized just how flamboyant it had become. And yet, right now...with her standing at the base of it, that doorway was the perfect frame.
This compound didn’t have a harem, but the apartments he’d set aside for his mate were a cl
ose second to that description. The rooms were crafted entirely of stone, but the amount of decorations and furnishings muted any coldness. As did the lighting he’d wired during the last century. There was even a pool in the center to bathe in.
Geena had been sleeping soundly when they landed. She’d barely moved as he settled her on a cushioned platform, placed a picnic basket on the floor beside her. It contained two pre-packaged meals, fresh fruit, an assortment of cheeses and baked goods, a bottle of water, another of wine. This basket was from the pilot, Stanislaw. The man was well worth his pay. The fellow kept the plane’s pantry stocked, and he knew what sorts of delicacies a human would like. Good man.
Sokar had left her with everything she should need. That had been this morning. It was now approaching evening. She’d obviously rested, used the pool, partaken of her feast, found her wardrobe, and yet did not sound pleased.
He wondered why.
She’d dressed in a teal-colored floor-length caftan, weighted slightly in the front by the amount of gold and silver thread embellishment the seamstresses had used. She was using a sunset-hued length of silk for a belt. Her dark hair was pulled back. She hadn’t covered it. She didn’t appear to be wearing any cosmetics. They were unnecessary. He had never seen anything as beautiful.
Ever.
His jaw dropped. His fingers stalled on the keyboard. A line consisting of the letter “e” started across the screen before he lifted his hands.
“Well?” She raised the skirt with one hand and sent him an unreadable look.
“Apologies, habibi. You—. I—.” Sokar’s voice stopped. He stood. Wiped his hands down his thighs. Looked across at her. Since she was still in the doorway, they were the same height.
“Yes?”
“You take my breath away with your beauty. I...cannot think. What was the question again?”
She flashed him a quick smile and started down the steps toward him. She was so regal! She’d make a perfect Great Wife. He waited until she neared, his breath held the entire time. But once she arrived and stood before him, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He eased his breath out. Her glance touched on his but she quickly looked away. Rose-shaded blush touched the tops of her cheeks. The reaction was immediate. And vicious. His canines tingled and began lengthening. Heat sparked into being within him, waking his loins. He actually stirred. And then hardened. Thank the gods he wore a Pharaonic starched kilt. A woven gold belt encircled his hips and fell down his front. That bit of design was fortuitous. It helped shield the obvious sign of his reaction to her.
Just her.
He was so lucky!
Sokar nearly flung his head back and gave vent to the wonder filling him. But that would never do. She didn’t know, yet. She hadn’t agreed. She was so young. Infinitely precious. Yet so skittish. He didn’t dare tell her about mating yet. He needed to win her trust first. And that would take time.
Odd. He’d always thought time was on his side.
“Your hair.”
Sokar frowned slightly. “My hair?”
“It’s longer.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“How is that possible?”
“When you become a—.”
“Don’t say it.” She interrupted him. “That’s a ground rule. Remember?”
This was a conundrum. How to explain without mentioning vampirism? Sokar considered her for a long moment, his mind whirling. He finally nodded.
“Physical appearance can be altered, but it does not stay. Upon arising, anything done will be undone.”
“Right. Let’s say that’s true. But...that’s kind of odd. I always thought ancient Egyptians were clean-shaven. The wall art certainly says so.”
“You are correct. It is rather amusing, actually. In life, I was always as you say. And yet, I’ve spent millennia since like this.”
She had an eyebrow lifted. She didn’t look convinced. He decided to try and explain.
“I was on a war campaign. We didn’t bother with grooming. Especially, during the victory march back home. I was...overly exuberant. That is how my brother managed to get into my tent and past my guards. Because I allowed it. He brought greetings. Figs. Beer. And a knife with an Ethiopian blade. Extremely sharp. Deadly. It takes a long time to die of a knife wound. No one shaved me during that time, either.” His voice hardened as he described Merneptah’s perfidy. It didn’t seem possible. Not after all these years. Reanimation brought back ancient treachery? And made it rankle?
Oh. He’d made a grave mistake. She’d moved back a step. His words may have made the gulf between them even wider. Sokar looked away. Over her head. He set his jaw next. A canine dug into his lower lip. He sucked on the wound. Tightened his muscles. And somehow kept a groan from sounding.
“Wow,” she finally said.
“Forgive me. I do not wish to frighten.”
“Oh. Don’t worry. You don’t scare me.”
He flashed a glance toward her. It might be true. He didn’t know her well enough, but she didn’t look remotely worried. She actually had an even more skeptical appearance to her.
“Do you wish to hear more?” he asked.
“Sure. Why not? It’s great bedtime story material.”
His eyes narrowed. He didn’t move his gaze from hers. “What do you wish to know?”
“Hmm. I don’t know. How about the war campaign stuff? Explain that.”
“I was commander-in-chief of the army.”
“At twenty-five?”
“No. Eighteen.”
“They made you commander at eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“No way.”
“Maturity was a different matter back then. I’d been considered a man for years. Being in charge of the army was my birthright. And my duty.”
“It was your duty to go kill other people?”
“No. It was my duty to expand the borders. Subdue anyone who stood in the way. Secure tribute. Bring glory to my name. That was why I waged war against the bowmen in Kush.”
“Kush?”
“Oh. Apologies. It became known later as Nubia. I believe it is now part of the country, Sudan.”
“Wow. Whoever taught you did an excellent job. You’re very convincing. I’d really like to believe you. You have no idea.”
“I do not lie. But even I cannot keep up with all the border changes in the world. Lines are continuously being redrawn and modified. I have been hidden here at Buhen for some years. I did not know about the dissolution of the U.S.S.R. I am just catching up.”
“What?”
“I speak of the world. This technology thing. Computers have certainly changed. Did you know you can type any destination into a query line and you will receive a picture of the actual land? From a bird’s eye view!”
She smiled. His thighs trembled. He locked his knees before he wavered.
“Is that what you were doing? Playing online?”
“I borrowed this laptop from my pilot. It has been...enlightening. The world did not move at this speed until recently. I can access data now from a hand-held object. There is even one you can wear on your arm. Like a bracelet. You don’t type into it. You speak and it gives you an answer.”
“Are you serious?”
“I must order these things.”
“Sokar?”
She sounded unsure. She wasn’t smiling, either.
“Yes?”
“I sure hope you are joking.”
He held out his hand. “I can prove it, habibi. Come. I will show you the tomb.”
“Now?”
“It is time. The sun has set.”
“How do you know that?”
He almost lifted his upper lip. Something held him back. Something he hadn’t any experience with. Something that might actually be fear.
She glanced to his mouth and then back to his eyes. Her chin came up higher. Her eyelids lowered. Her lips parted slightly. A shudder ran her frame. He daren’t guess why. His body suffered an answering tremor,
but he knew the reason. He was holding back. Maintaining command of his body.
“You are a very sexy man, Sokar.”
Her words were a direct hit against his control. His thighs trembled. He caught the weakness before he dropped to his knees. She didn’t know what she did! She was the woman of his dreams. She had the body of his fantasies. Her scent intoxicated. Her blood called to his. Everything about her drew him. He was trying desperately not to force and dominate. He pulled his muscles into painful knots.
“The hint of fangs. The mystique. The aura of darkness. It only adds to the whole package. Know what I mean?”
“Habibi. Please? We must go.”
A smile curved her lips. The blush bloomed through her cheeks again. Sokar sucked his belly in. It didn’t help. Nothing did. He was being tortured and had nothing to blame but his own self-restraint.
“Will you...?”
Her voice ended. Her gaze dropped. The blush deepened within her cheeks. Was it possible she felt the same? Her body endured relentless surges of desire, too? Dare he hope? His voice stammered with the answer.
“Y-y-yes?”
“Before you show me...um? Will you do something?”
“Anything.”
His answer was harsh. It sent vibrations through the room that snuffed candles and rattled the incense brazier. It also hinted at insanity. And something else. He was giving power over to her. Tying his hands. Potentially killing his future. Because he had no idea what she’d ask. If she asked for her freedom...?
His heart hurt at the thought. It started sending pain with every beat. He’d thought his knife wound painful. The infection that followed, a hellfire of agony. He’d been wrong. This pain was worse. Much worse.
“Any...thing?”
She sounded so hesitant! He didn’t blame her. He couldn’t believe he’d said it, either. He had to nod a reply. He didn’t trust his voice.
“Will you...take me back when this is over?”
She said the words he dreaded. His heart seized up. His belly clenched. His solar plexus felt like it took a blow. The vibration she called his growl enveloped them as he fought for control. And the look of satisfaction on her face didn’t help.
