Shadow of the Sheikh

by Nina Bruhns

  “Shahin,” she said, striving to sound far calmer than she felt. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “But I do,” he refuted, and reached for her.

  At the touch of his hands, his magical energy crept up her arms like a bath of warm fur. It melted over her, higher and lower, enveloping her whole body, taking control of her, robbing her of her strength. She shivered. Loving how it felt…knowing she shouldn’t let herself succumb to it. Such a show of domination, of supernatural “otherness” should frighten her. But it just felt…good.

  She couldn’t help herself, she put her arms around him. He stiffened. “Just how will you torture me?” she asked seductively.

  He was silent for several heartbeats. At length, he said, “You are either a very brave or a very foolish woman, Gemma Haliday.”

  He wasn’t the first person to tell her that. Mostly it had been a comment on her returning again and again to Egypt to do her ethnographical fieldwork. But just as her love for this country was too complicated to explain, so were her feelings for this man. He’d hurt her just now, denying their connection so brutally. But she didn’t believe him. Perhaps bravely, perhaps foolishly, she trusted Egypt to keep her safe. And she trusted Shahin as well.

  She looked up at him and felt herself drowning in the press of his overwhelming power. It was like sinking underwater, except she could breathe. Sort of.

  He mirrored her gaze evenly. “I could bespell you,” he said, “and you would tell me everything you know.”

  “Which is nothing,” she returned. “How could I? I’ve been here with you for two days.”

  “But you know your sister,” he pointed out. “I could shower you with pain, and you would beg to tell me where she is so that it would stop.”

  “You wouldn’t do that,” she said without hesitation. “You’re not that cruel.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “I could touch you,” he said, his voice going low and suggestive, “and you would beg to tell me where she is to make me continue.”

  “You’ll do that anyway,” she murmured, and brushed her lips over his. “And believe me, it’s not torture.”

  He closed his eyes for a split second, then opened them again fiercely. “You are a witch,” he gritted out, stepped into her and covered her lips with his. Erotic energy spilled through her, like he was feeding it to her with his tongue.

  “And you are a demon,” she returned. For that was exactly what he was, an ancient warrior come from the realm of the underworld to claim her soul for his own purposes. And with growing desperation she realized a terrible truth. She would give it to him, gladly, if only he wanted to claim her heart as well. She shuddered with need and kissed him back, swallowing the magical essence of him, eating at his mouth and his lips, wanting more of it. Of him.

  He kissed her until they were both shaking and panting with want. And then he pulled away with a low growl. He held her body apart from his with fingers like steel talons in the flesh of her arms. He glared down at her as if what he really wanted to do was cast her away from himself forever.

  “Please, Shahin,” she whispered. Not really knowing what she expected of him, not as a leader of the per netjer, nor as her lover, but having the sinking feeling she would never get what she needed to feel okay with any of this, on any level. “I honestly don’t know where Josslyn has gone.”

  Whether he believed her, there was no way of telling. Within the storm cloud of his face, his eyes were like black voids, the gold rings around his pupils flashing like lightning. “I’ll make a bargain with you,” he said, his deep voice vibrating with something she dared not guess.

  Speak of the devil… “What kind of bargain?” she asked, licking her lips, gathering a taste of him on her tongue. Weakening further.

  “Come with me to Khepesh. Meet the man intended for your sister. See for yourself that he is a worthy match for her.”

  Whatever bargain she’d expected, this wasn’t it. She gaped at him. “You want to take me to your temple-palace?” She didn’t know whether to be thrilled or scared stiff. “The per netjer, yes. Meet Seth-Aziz. See how we live. Make up your own mind if your sister could be happy with him.”

  “That’s not for me to decide,” she argued. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go. “And what if I don’t like him? What happens then?”

  “Even the Lady Gillian found Seth-Aziz to be a good man,” he reasoned. “She liked and respected him.”

  “And yet she ran away with another. Betrayed him, rather than marry him.”

  The lightning in Shahin’s eyes flashed brighter. “Because of Lord Kilpatrick, not Seth-Aziz, or what he is.”

  A shiver went down her spine at the thought of being married to a vampire…feeding a vampire with blood from your own veins…having sex with a vampire. This wasn’t some silly teen movie where everything was Hollywood-perfect, where no one got hurt and it never got ugly. This was the real thing, bloody and messy.

  “Are you sure about that?” she asked, totally unconvinced.

  He leveled her a scorching gaze and let her go. He turned and strode toward the door. “I won’t force you, Gemma. You must enter Khepesh of your own free will.”

  His power still roiled like a living thing around her. She knew he could compel her to do anything he wanted easily enough. So why didn’t he?

  He lifted the curtained door and held it open for her, silently commanding her to go with him.

  Did she really have a choice? Besides, maybe she’d feel better about all this if she met the man ultimately responsible for drawing her and her sisters onto this fateful, otherworldly path.

  Or maybe she wouldn’t. In which case, she’d decide then what to do about it.

  She followed Shahin outside and watched nervously as he sent Hasim to fetch his men, then he sketched a small design in the air with his fingers and murmured an incantation.

  Several large shapes began to materialize from a swirling mist in front of them. The ghost camels. One of the apparitions trotted over to Shahin and lowered itself onto its belly for him. He beckoned to her to come.

  Warily, she went to him. He gathered her body in his arms and seemingly effortlessly mounted the huge beast and settled her on the soft saddle in front of him. With a chorus of masculine shouts and animal hisses, his men also mounted and joined them. As one, the troop of warriors took off, loping up the dunes and galloping forth across the desert sands. Toward what…only God knew.

  Shahin held her tight against his chest and wrapped his bisht around them both as a shield against the hot wind and blazing sun.

  It was only then she had a chance to really think about what she was doing. And that’s when the fear began to climb within her.

  Sheikh Shahin, the legendary harbinger of death, was taking her to Khepesh, per netjer of Set-Sutekh, the God of Darkness and Chaos, dwelling place of his immortal followers. To meet the vampire demigod Seth-Aziz.

  But Shahin had never said anything about leaving again. What if the cult had other plans for her? What if once inside their lair, they wouldn’t let her go?

  He had just told her she would only share his bed for a short while. What would happen to her after he tired of her?

  What if that pomegranate martini really had been the updated version of the old myth and she had eaten the six seeds that doomed her to live in Set-Sutekh’s underworld palace forever, once Shahin ceased to be amused by her?

  She turned in his arms, striving to mask the rush of panic that crept through her bones. She caught his gaze with hers. “You aren’t going to leave me there without you, are you?” she asked. “At Khepesh?”

  He didn’t look away, but he didn’t answer either.

  Suddenly a bolt of raw terror stabbed through her. “Shahin?” Her heart stalled completely. Yes, she’d angered him by defying his wishes, but…” You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

  His mouth thinned and he regarded her for a long, tense moment. “I haven’t decided,” was all he said.


  Shahin knew he was losing his mind.

  He must be. Because most definitely the organ he was thinking with at the moment did not reside in his head.

  He watched Gemma’s face drain of color and actually felt a stab of guilt over his unfeeling words, both now and earlier.

  By the rod of Osiris!

  He turned aside and ignored her. Or tried to. Even though it wasn’t easy with the warmth of her body pressed intimately against his, and the weight of her uncertain gaze upon him.

  He’d promised Seth to use all his powers to find Josslyn Haliday. A simple spell of veracity would make Gemma spill her secrets, including where her sister had fled, if she knew. But Shahin had not cast the spell. Why? Because he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing that trusting, adoring look in her eyes turn to suspicion, or worse, hatred, when she realized what he had done.

  Gemma was like no other woman he’d ever met. She wasn’t afraid of him. She didn’t want anything from him. Not money or gifts. Not magic. Not eternal life. She hadn’t asked him for a single thing. Well, all right she had, in bed. But those things he’d been more than happy to grant her. What he wasn’t happy to gift her with was any part of his heart, or any of his emotions at all. And yet, inexplicably, he found himself doing just that.

  He yearned to let go and allow himself to feel something for this woman who was so unique, as his reckless heart was urging him to do.

  Had he not learned his lesson the first time a woman had used her wiles on him? Had he and his family not suffered enough for that misplaced trust?

  Nephtys had tried to convince him not all women were like the lover who’d betrayed him so long ago. But in his position, how could he take that chance? As captain of the guard, he could not afford a mistake that might jeopardize the lives of all those who depended upon him for their safety. If his emotions were compromised, he could not trust his decisions.

  And he’d be an utter fool to trust Gemma Haliday.

  He really should leave her at Khepesh. Remove the temptation of her from his life altogether. That was where she was destined to end up anyway. What was wrong with hastening along the inevitable?

  Unfortunately, he knew exactly what was wrong with it.

  He wanted her right where she was.

  In his arms. Warm. Pliable. Giving. Loving.

  Even if it was just a fantasy illusion.

  They reached the gebel entrance to the palace, and he waved it open. Without breaking stride, the camels plunged down into the Realm of Darkness.

  Gemma clung to him. He held her as they rode deeper and deeper, down into the very heart of the underworld. Until a faint light pierced the dark, growing into the brilliant glow of a hundred torches.

  They’d reached their destination.

  The Great Western Gate of Khepesh.

  The camels snorted and brayed, turning sideways and shying from the burning torches as the men reined them in.

  Gemma sat awestruck, unable to move as she gazed up at the monumental silver gate before her.

  Soaring at least three stories above them, the portal was really a huge double door. It seemed to be made of solid, glittering silver and was flanked by tall, lotus-shaped, fire-burning torches. Both wings of the door were engraved with row upon row of intricately wrought hieroglyphics. The cartouche of Set-Sutekh graced the center of each, along with a reverse wedget, the left eye of Horus—the symbol of Set-Sutekh’s victory over the Sun God.

  She still hadn’t quite believed that Shahin was bringing her to the mythical dwelling place of the God of the Moon. But she was starting to be convinced.

  “My God,” Gemma whispered threadily, clutching Shahin’s hand with trembling fingers. “It’s magnificent.”

  “Just wait,” he said. He lifted her off the camel and they approached the gate.

  It made a long, deep clang and slowly started to open. The air around them vibrated, conveying something far deeper than sound. It was as though the power and magic of the tomb-palace could not be contained by mere walls. She felt the energy rise around her, electric and potent, more and more with every inch the gate opened. A shiver sifted down her arms, raising a rash of goose flesh.

  She eased behind Shahin’s body, totally spooked.

  He urged her forward again. “Don’t be afraid. No one’s going to hurt you.”

  This coming from the man who had just threatened to torture her.

  Inside the gate, a crowd of people was gathering. They looked…interesting. Some were dressed in modern clothes, some in the ancient Egyptian style and others in every imaginable fashion in between.

  “Why are they dressed so differently?” she whispered to Shahin, focusing on the trivial details so she wouldn’t have to think about the big picture of what was happening.

  He glanced down at her, then back at the crowd, as though he’d never noticed before. “We were all born in different times. I suppose we wear what we’re most comfortable in. There are no rules.”

  Fascinating.

  She suddenly noticed a tall, stern-looking man standing in the middle of the crowd. He had on splendid robes of shining black with a sash of crimson spanning his trim waist. Most of the people were peering out at her with curiosity, but this man had a distinct frown on his handsome face.

  Omigod. It must be him. The vampire.

  “My lord,” Shahin said with a formal bow, confirming her guess. He touched her shoulder and she found herself going down on her knees under a power other than her own. “You must kneel before your lord and master, Seth-Aziz, Guardian of Darkness and high priest to Set-Sutekh, Lord of the Night Sky.”

  She wasn’t sure what protocol demanded when meeting a demigod, but she took a stab at it, inclining her head nervously. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Gemma Haliday.”

  His eyes narrowed and he glanced at a woman standing next to him. She had flame-red hair and a youthful, kind face. She gave her head a small shake. He didn’t look pleased, but he turned back and spoke to Shahin. “Does this woman come willingly?”

  “Yes, my lord. She is willing.”

  Wait. Willing to do what?

  Shahin strode through the gate, leaving her on her knees and on her own.

  “Very well.” Seth-Aziz raised his hands to her, palms up, and said in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “If you would join us, Gemma Haliday, and become one of the shemsu, the immortal followers of Set-Sutekh, rise now and walk through the portal.”

  She blinked.

  Hold on.

  Join us? Become immortal? Shahin hadn’t said anything about any of that. She freely admitted to a healthy professional curiosity about Khepesh, as well as being personally intrigued by the possibilities and implications of its existence and what it could mean for her. But join? Before she knew what she was getting herself into? And for how long…?

  And wasn’t he being just a load of help now, returning a blank stare to her anxious gaze? Why was he acting so damn aloof? Was he still mad at her for warning Joss? Or had he tired of her in his bed already and simply lured her here to be rid of her?

  She pressed her lips together.

  Well, screw him.

  And screw this whole ridiculous situation. Enough was enough.

  She got to her feet, formed her lips into a cordial smile for the high priest and announced, “I don’t. Freaking. Think so.”

  Then she took a deep breath, spun on a heel and started to run.

  Chapter 14

  Shahin stared impassively after the woman and muttered an oath.

  Beside him, he heard Seth-Aziz sigh. “Well, so much for willing.”

  “She panicked. She just needs a little more convincing, my lord,” Shahin said.

  Seth grunted. “Sekhmet’s teeth, what is it about these accursed Haliday women that makes them so damned defiant?”

  Nephtys frowned. “Can’t she see this is for her own good? Does she want to be turned into a shabti and spend the rest of eternity as a servant with no mind of her own?”


  “I haven’t actually told her about that part yet,” Shahin confessed. “I’d hoped to avoid threats.”

  Seth rolled his eyes. “And how’s that working for you?”

  It was Shahin’s turn to sigh. “Not terribly well.”

  The crowd around them stirred and started murmuring curiously, wondering what would happen next. But no one left.

  “You should fetch her back before she gets too lost,” Nephtys urged.

  “Yes,” Shahin said but he didn’t move.

  “Any luck finding Josslyn?” Seth asked.

  “Not yet. As you see, Gemma is being very stubborn. I suggested this meeting with you to convince her that her sister would like you.”

  Seth’s brows shot up. “A unique approach.”

  “It was worth a shot. I guess I forgot to mention she must be willing to become one of the shemsu to enter Khepesh.”

  “Another small detail, admittedly,” Seth said sardonically.

  Shahin considered. “Perhaps a bribe is in order.”

  “I thought you’d already offered her your body,” Nephtys muttered.

  Shahin made a face at her. “My lady is very amusing, indeed. No, I was thinking of her mother. Before she fled, Gillian discovered evidence in the library that Haru-Re took their mother captive twenty years ago. The family has thought all these years that Isobelle Haliday is dead, but I would be willing to bet she is still alive.”

  “And no doubt living at Petru as a shabti,” Nephtys reminded him. “I don’t know that finding out one’s mother has been kidnapped and robbed of her personality is exactly the best way to endear Gemma to life as an immortal.”

  Shahin winced inwardly. For three-hundred years he had insisted to himself and anyone else who brought up the subject that his family was lost to him forever, and the best way to deal with his horrendous loss was to forget them completely.

  It hadn’t worked. He would never forget them or their fates. Never.

  “Perhaps,” he conceded. “But when all is said and done, I’d rather my own sister were still alive, even if living her life as a shabti. I still have hope of meeting my mother again, though I know she will not recognize her only son. But just seeing her would ease my heart.”