“So beautiful,” he said, gathering up his clothes but taking a moment to pull her close, to feel all that glorious silken skin against him.
Beneath his hands her skin was soft, smooth and warm. If he’d had the time he’d have taken her again right there, simply bent her over and thrust up into her to feel her heat and life close tightly and deliciously around him.
She smiled up at him and he did take the time to lower his mouth for a quick kiss.
Raissa spread her hands over the strong broad muscles of his chest, sliding them up along his ribs to the long, firm muscles of his back, echoing his thought unknowingly as she looked up into the strong lines of his handsome face, his dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
Dressed, she called up her swords as Ky bent to snatch up one of the automatic weapons as they passed them, checking it out automatically as they walked toward the entrance to the glen.
Unruffled as always Komi waited at the entrance to the tunnel.
A man wearing traditional desert clothing waited in the shadows. He folded back the mouth cover and stepped out as they approached.
The face was familiar, the strong arched nose, narrow face and pockmarked skin were well known to both of them.
Inspector Hassan nodded to them, eyeing the lions cautiously but without surprise. If he was who Raissa suspected he was, he would have known of them.
Ryan leaned a shoulder against a rock wall, his weapon secured in his crossed arms as if he’d been carrying one for years.
“Go wake, Tareq, would you, Ryan? He’ll want to be here for this, too,” he asked.
Nodding, Ryan said, “Be right back, boss.”
The man in the tunnel entrance looked the worse for wear, tired, battered, with a bruise that darkened one side of his face but he’d quite apparently survived Zimmer’s violent dismissal.
“Inspector,” Ky said, evenly.
The other man looked at him and then at Raissa standing beside him before turning his eyes to the lions as Nebi slipped around her to settle at Ky’s side. Almost out of habit, Ky let his hand drop to the lion’s thick mane. Alu bumped her head against Raissa’s hand and she scratched idly behind the lioness’s ears.
Slowly, the other man shook his head at himself and then he bowed, doing a deep obeisance, his hand going from his head, to his lips, to his heart and then spreading out toward them.
“My apologies,” he said, “to the Guardian of the Tomb.”
Raissa lifted an eyebrow before she frowned lightly and sighed.
“You couldn’t have known,” she said. “What is it you want?”
Standing more straightly, he said. “I am the leader of those who hunt the dark Djinn…”
Her guess was confirmed. That explained much. She’d wondered if any had survived to modern times.
“You missed one,” Ky interrupted, evenly, thinking of Zimmer and Kamenwati.
Having heard those trapped below it had become a lot easier to believe.
With a bow of assent, Hassan said, “As you say. My zealousness blinded me. When I first met the man, he was much different. The changes should have alerted me but I was more concerned you were growing close to the Tomb. There are few these days who know what a Djinn is, much less an evil one. We do not battle so many these days but when we do…they have grown wiser, warier and smarter. And this one was old, very old.”
Men had been lost… good men…men he’d trained, or trained with…had died, back at the camp. They could see it in his eyes.
“When you arrived in the village…” Hassan began, looking at Raissa.
She sighed and waved it away. “It’s done.”
“As you say,” he said again, with a bow.
Tareq came trotting up, his movements stiff, Ryan at his heels.
“Sorry, my friends,” he said, “It’s been some time since I last slept out on the ground. Who is this?”
He seemed somewhat familiar…
Ky said, “Tareq, Inspector Hassan. He’s with the local police. You saw him at the camp.”
“Ah,” Tareq said, with a nod of his head, recognizing the name. “We spoke on the phone.”
The man Zimmer had sent flying.
“He’s also a member of those who protect the Tomb,” Ky said.
Tareq’s gaze sharpened.
“They are coming,” Hassan said. “Zimmer, the man who is Djinn, and his men. And others. Men who seek the Horn for their own purposes. We have been following them, watching all of them. This, however, is our duty and our home and so we have come to offer our assistance to the Guardian.”
Tareq gave Ky and Raissa a look.
It looked as if her original idea to lure everyone to the site was coming to fruition whether she wished it to or not.
The Inspector waited.
She looked at him. “You know if you enter, there is a very good chance you and your men will die here.”
As there was for all of them, Ky, Tareq, Ryan and Komi, even herself.
Thanks to Zimmer/Kamenwati they hadn’t been given a choice.
“We all must die sometime,” the other man answered, calmly, evenly. “Few men are given to know their purpose in life but we have. It is for this and this alone.”
As it had been for her.
Now? She sighed. Only time would tell.
Ky went still as he felt Hassan’s words reverberate through him.
He, too, had always had a purpose. He had it still.
All his life he searched for the Tomb and the one who guarded it. He’d dreamed of her and it. As a boy he’d fantasized about riding to the rescue, defeating the Djinn and freeing her. As a man he’d sought to prove she was real, the mythical Irisi, Nubiti, to know the truth of her. That she’d loved and been loved so much her loss had been immortalized in stone by the man who had loved her in return, and no ordinary man at that, but a great Egyptian general.
Now he’d found it and her with it. Raissa and the love he’d doubted existed.
Both were his now.
She stood beside him and Ky knew she would stand with him, fight beside him, die for him if necessary. It was there in her eyes, in the steadiness of her presence, in her sureness.
Her slender fingers slid between his.
Ky looked at her as she looked back at him, understanding and empathy in her blue eyes.
As he would stand and fight for her.
Having found the Tomb, he would help her close it. Forever. And set her free, at last. Whatever happened afterwards.
Ky looked at Hassan.
He’d been all too aware they were too few against too many. Only he, Tareq and Raissa had any real training, any real combat experience.
“We need all the help we can get,” he said.
It was clear Raissa had considered that, too.
There was no need for either of them to say the obvious. It was her decision though.
He looked at her.
She nodded.
“Bring your people,” she said, snapping her fingers at the lions, who grumbled, shambled to their feet and ambled away, unconcerned.
With a gesture toward the fire, Ky said, “We need to know more about these people you’ve been following.”
Hassan nodded. Then he turned and whistled down the tunnel. About a dozen well-armed men came at a fast trot, almost all of them bearing some kind of an automatic weapon as well as a sword in a scabbard at their waist.
They were prepared for both man and Djinn.
Giving them quick instructions, Hassan sent them off to make camp and gain what rest they could.
“There are two groups following you other than us,” Hassan said, as they walked to the fire and settled beside it.
Raissa bent to stir it up to give them a little more illumination.
A smile crossed Hassan’s normally grim features in appreciation. “The first were those whose purpose we couldn’t ascertain.”
The smile faded for a moment.
“Only eleven in number. They are devo
ut men,” he said, “but they do not speak to anyone. I sent a man to contact them. He didn’t return.”
Mohammed had been a good man, a civil and reasonable man. A devout man as well. Only a madman or a fanatic would have killed him. And so they were likely madmen and fanatics.
Like many, he had some sympathy for such people. The American hegemony was disturbingly predominant and their new tendency to spread their doctrine by force, foregoing their own stated respect for the rule of law made them disturbingly unpredictable and untrustworthy.
Still, he couldn’t support violence for those purposes and if they’d killed Mohammed…
He took a breath. “We suspect they’re of one of the militant groups, Al-Qaeda or one of its off-shoots…These were the ones who attacked you at the Museum.”
No Egyptian would have done such a thing, they had too much pride in their heritage, in their ancient culture, in what their people had begun… Egypt had been the true birthplace of civilization.
“Born to the desert, to its conditions, they followed you from dig site when you fled,” he said. “Knowing the desert, it wasn’t difficult…”
Ky and Raissa looked at each other… How much had they seen?
It didn’t matter.
“Zimmer’s people entered the tomb of Isis’s priestess.”
His black eyes went to Raissa. There was a glint in them.
“Surprisingly, they found it full of snakes,” he said, and didn’t both to hide his amusement. “There was some outcry and a number of bullets fired before they fled but they were fewer in number when they emerged. Still, almost fifty or more remain.”
Ky glanced at Raissa.
She looked back at him, an innocent look on her face but her blue eyes were twinkling.
“Imagine that,” she said, looking back at him.
His dark eyes gazed at her skeptically.
She grinned.
The numbers, though, were still daunting.
“It took them some little time to reorganize,” he said. “The others waited, watching through binoculars. Having been warned then of traps, we bypassed both and searched for you. We were cautious of traps, too, as they will be. It will take them time.”
“We didn’t know where the Tomb was until now, it was best not to know and it was not part of our mission. Our mission was to discourage interest and to seek out dark Djinn so they couldn’t mass or prey on humanity again. To that end we have been successful.”
“So,” Tareq said, remembering what he’d heard and felt below with a slight shudder, “you have seen Djinn, too? Real Djinn, in this time…”
With bow, Hassan said, “Yes, Director. I have seen several in my lifetime. The marid are the most common and the most dangerous since they can take the form of men more readily and they do. Most quite successfully. Give me a handsome, wealthy man with no obvious means of support, a skill at gambling and a reputation with women and you will likely find a marid Djinn. Fortunately they like their comforts and will do little to jeopardize them. The ghul like to feed upon the newly dead and stories of grave disturbances usually signal their presence. Ifrit and sila are creatures of the desert―although reports of possession are usually the sila.”
His black eyes steady, Hassan said, “Hundreds of thousands of people disappear every year, for a variety of reasons but no few wind up in the hands of Djinn. The trade in women and children favors them, giving them a means to feed their various appetites and to procreate.”
Tareq sat back, his eyes shocked.
Returning to their original conversation, Hassan said, “In any case, those who follow are only hours behind. It is likely the second group will allow Zimmer’s people to do the groundbreaking. Both will likely be more cautious upon entering but they will come.”
It was inevitable now.
There were moments in time when one could feel the wheels of fate grinding…this was one of them.
Raissa looked at Ky.
His dark eyes, gilded now by the firelight, met hers steadily.
She looked to Tareq, who shrugged eloquently. Somewhere Komi slept, hopefully peacefully, as Ryan stood watch again by the tunnel.
Almost absently, she conjured up another spell, with apologies to the snakes.
It was coming.
Ky looked at Hassan. “My rules, I lead…”
Looking at him skeptically, Hassan said, “And how many missions have you led…?”
With a laugh that was only slightly bitter, Ky said, “More than you would believe.”
From beside him, Raissa said, sharply, “And I am the Guardian of the Tomb and he is my chosen Champion.”
Hassan went still and then he bowed, his hand over his heart.
There was no gainsaying that.
“Let’s get some sleep,” Ky said. “We don’t know when we’ll get the chance again. Rest while you can.”
Chapter Thirty Two
Waking up in the darkness wasn’t a slow process but it was a pleasant one, as Ky realized his arms were filled with a warm, willing woman, her body curled against his, her legs tangled around his. He cradled Raissa’s head against his shoulder and inhaled the scent of her hair, brushed his cheek against the silken softness of it, felt every inch of her supple, lush body against his―firm breasts, the curls between her thighs, the heated core of her against his leg, his own growing hardness pressing against the softness of her belly.
He’d never been a cuddler with other women. With Raissa he wanted to wrap around her, keep her safe, wake up with her nestled against his body forever, to feel her breast fill his hand.
She stirred, her mouth against his throat. Drowsily, her tongue lapped at him lightly, just the tip of it grazing his skin. A shot of heat, of anticipation, went through him and his body responded. He sighed, tightening his arms.
Raissa nuzzled his throat and growled softly, almost a purr, but hungry. The sound sent another jolt of heat straight to his groin.
Her hot mouth moved on him as he pulled her closer and her body shifted against his. Need rushed through him. Her teeth scraped across his skin…desire pooled deep inside him.
Desperately, he grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled her head back to look into her eyes.
Her eyes sleepily aglow, twinkling mischievously, Raissa looked back at him, grinned and licked her lips slowly before her sharp white teeth bit the lower one lightly, provocatively…
The gesture had its intended effect. He tightened.
He had to laugh but he kept a firm grip on her hair, holding her mouth only a breath away from his throat, the sense of it so close was as tantalizing to him as it was to her. A flick of her tongue sent a delicious shiver through him. Waking up in the morning promised to be a heady experience…if they survived this one.
For the moment he wouldn’t think of that, he would only think of her hot mouth on him , her sharp teeth so close, and of the welcoming warmth between her thighs.
He kissed that ardent mouth and her eyes softened, warmed.
“Ky,” she sighed, smiling.
That smile was glorious, deep, full of warmth…brilliant. So beautiful, teeth and all.
With one hand deep in her hair, his other was free to touch and he drew her limber body against his, feeling every inch of her satiny skin move against him.
In the pre-dawn darkness, with her need for him rampant her body literally glowed but he knew she was aware, knew it was him who touched her.
Raissa could taste him on the air, could scent him, his arousal growing and pressed hard against her belly. She reveled in it…and then he touched her.
His hand closed around her breast, squeezed and teased, tormented.
It seemed her blood caught on fire.
With a sigh… his scent, his taste filled her.
Raissa’s body arched as he touched her, wanting more, not just the taste of him but the feel of him. She craved him, and not just his blood, but Ky, his strong body over her, inside her, possessing her.
His hand drifte
d down, his fingers dipped into her navel, trailed down the inside of her hipbones where the skin was sensitive so she quivered, down to the tight curls between her thighs, slipped between the damp, heated folds as she opened to him, her hips rising in entreaty.
Ky was hard against her thigh, pressed against it…and then her hand found him, closed around him…and he struggled desperately for control.
Desperately he fought to distract her and found a way as he dampened his fingers with her moisture and then slid them up to the small pearl between her thighs, the intensely sensitive nub there. A soft moan escaped her, drifted across his skin.
Her teeth scraped against his throat as his control wavered.
Ky drew her head back, his precarious control nearly snapping as he felt her tongue flutter over his skin…his gut tightened with need and he went hard as a rock.
Looking down, he saw her laughing eyes…
Deliberately, he stroked that delicate nub and watched her eyes widen as he played with her, watched her control shatter as her muscles jumped and twitched while he teased and tormented it. His fingers slipped over her, dipped into her, slid around the entrance to her core until she gasped, need pouring through her as her hips pumped with growing desperation.
His own need was intense, nearly blinding, the lure of her heated, wet tightness was maddening.
As much as he needed to feel her around him, he needed to feel her feed…wanted to feel her in so many ways… She was his, he wanted to know all of her.
Rolling her beneath him, he drove up into her. Her arms wrapped around him, clung tightly, her soft cries of pleasure buried against his throat, tormenting him further. He thrust harder, deeper, his arms tight around her, one around her hips, the other clenched in her hair.
Beneath him, Raissa’s hips rose, bucked as Ky filled her, body and soul, pulsed within her, hard, filling her, stretching her, his pleasure building as he swelled inside her.
It was too much, she hungered for him, all of him.
Her teeth sank into his throat. That was all it took to push him over the edge. He groaned as his pleasure took him and he poured into her body, into her mouth…hips hard against hers, he emptied into her deliriously, deliciously
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