Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri)

by Teresa D'Amario

  Chapter Three

  Tonight wasn’t the night to dwell on the negative, despite the pervert in the foyer, so Tamara grinned and pushed all thoughts of said jerk from her mind. She was in Egypt. Okay, so she had to put up with her cousin, Julie and her new husband, Jeff, making goo-goo eyes at one another. That didn’t matter because she was in Cairo, a place she’d dreamed of since she was a kid. Dreams which included a man and his entire life from ancient times. This trip was supposed to help her get him out of her system so she could go on with her life.

  The speakers blared, and the secrets of the ancients were revealed. She followed with rapt attention, her mind spinning with the awesome power and accomplishments of a people long past.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  The voice registered on a deep, unconscious level, sliding down her spine like melted chocolate. Tamara hid a shudder. Nope, nobody was going to steal her attention tonight. Not even a voice as sexy as sinfully rich chocolate. She motioned with an impatient hand toward the seat in invitation, her eyes never leaving the lights dancing upon the walls of the pyramids.

  Tamara’s cousin elbowed her gently in the gut. She shoved back, frustrated. “Not now,” she whispered. The speakers touted the story of Khufu, the fourth dynasty pharaoh responsible for the Great Pyramid. No matter what Julie had to say, it could wait.

  Just like she’d waited to tell Tamara there would be three on their trip, not two. Even now that irritated her. Special gifts were common in her family. Gifts that hundreds of years ago would have branded them witches and resulted in them being burned at the stake. Well, not her, because fire did her bidding. She’d probably have been squashed with stones or drowned.

  She’d had to twist her cousin’s arm to get her to sign up for this trip because Julie hated planes. Then, all of a sudden, she was excited, volunteering to handle all the arrangements. Tamara should have known something was up, but she’d been too caught up in her own excitement to wonder about the sudden change. Of course, Julie must have had a premonition of her coming marriage, and planning a honeymoon was exciting, even if it meant air travel.

  Now, Tamara was stuck with them. The two inseparable J’s. Julie and Jeff. Dragging the two of them to tonight’s show hadn’t been easy, but staying in their rooms was unacceptable. Tamara hoped the rest of the trip didn’t follow the same path.

  Just then, Julie leaned in to whisper in Tamara’s ear.

  “Jeff isn’t feeling well. I’m going to take him to the hotel. I’ll be back soon.”

  Tamara shrugged her off. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Go.” In seconds, she was again engrossed in the show. True, everything they talked about in the booming recording she knew already, but it was different, thinking of such things while staring at the pyramids and the mysterious face of the Sphinx.

  Before she was ready, the show ended. Tamara hid her sigh of disappointment. She could have stayed all night listening to the stories of Ancient Egypt. Darkness settled over the massive structures, and bright lights clicked on, shining down on the tourists from tall poles along the back of the observation deck. Chairs scraped all around as everyone stood. She’d wanted so much more than she’d seen here. What the ancient Egyptians did was a marvel of ancient technology, but she wanted to know the people. Who were they? How did they live?

  She sighed and shifted in her chair, still staring at the shadowed stone structures.

  “May I escort you to your hotel?”

  Tamara jolted at the masculine voice. She’d forgotten all about someone asking to sit beside her. Before she even turned, she knew something was different about him. A cold power surged over her, cooling the constant sizzle of her gift. With a deep breath, she turned to face him. Dark, green eyes stared back at her, framed beneath full lashes. The man’s jet-black hair waved downward, brushing his shoulders with soft curls. Yet his face wasn’t exactly soft. A strong, aristocratic nose complimented the chiseled features of a man made to catch the eye. Full lips greeted her in a half smile. But it was the tiny crescent tattoo on his right cheek that sent a tremor of recognition through her body. Blood drained from her face, replaced with the dry cold of the winter desert’s night, and a shiver ran up her spine.

  The man from her dreams.

  Her head shaking, she turned toward Julie, only to see her empty seat.

  “Your friend left some time ago. She indicated I should take you back to your hotel.”

  Tamara nodded. She vaguely remembered Julie saying something about Jeff being sick.

  It was obvious his accent wasn’t American. The Arabic tinge to his words and his mode of dress, a pair of black trousers and a black button up shirt, told her a great deal. So close to the Egyptian “business uniform.” She’d noticed when they arrived the cab drivers and businessmen all wore nice trousers with a button up white shirt. He flaunted tradition by wearing black, but other than his eyes and his height, he looked like a typical Egyptian. Tamara swallowed hard. “She wasn’t supposed to leave me here.”

  He smiled. “That’s all right. I’ll be happy to escort you to your hotel. Are you at the Mena House?”

  She hoped that was just a guess. Mr. Perfect Teeth was scary enough without wondering if the man who’d stepped out of her dreams was a stalker. If it was a guess, it was a logical one, considering the Mena House was across the street from the pyramids and one of the most popular tourist hotels. She nodded, standing. She clutched her bag in front of her, her eyes snatching glances at the departing crowd. This couldn’t be happening. It was him. From her dreams. Alive. But… he couldn’t be alive.

  “I don’t know you, why would she ask…” But she knew why. This was the person Julie was talking about. But why would she leave when she’d just warned Tamara to be careful? Julie was dead meat. That’s all there was to it. Just as soon as she got back to the hotel and banged on her door.

  “Are you all right?” he queried, while they filed out with the audience.

  No. She wasn’t. Logic told her she was imagining things, yet every time she peeked at him from the corner of her eye, she could only shake her head. He looked just like the man in her dreams. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “My name is Ramose Trevelyan, and you?”

  Ramose. A powerful and strong name. The one detail she’d never been able to gather from the dreams was the man’s name. But this isn’t him. “Tamara Kimbell.”

  He narrowed his gaze, focusing on her armband.

  She crossed her arms, her fingers touching her bracelet for comfort. It burned warm against her skin, warmer than ever before. Before tonight, she’d always thought it a beautiful piece of jewelry, though she’d never seen anything overtly special about it. Yet tonight, when she’d donned it, power had risen in the metal, warming her already flushed skin and sending energy through her blood.

  “Shall we go, then, Miss Tamara Kimbell?” he asked, and she saw him glance toward her hands, looking for a ring, she assumed.

  Tamara nodded, her thoughts spinning in her head. He wasn’t the man she’d dreamed of for all those years. They were of the past. Thousands of years past. Maybe he was a descendant of the man in her dreams. But that tattoo?

  “So, Tamara, what brings you to Egypt?” Ramose interrupted the flow of thoughts in her brain.

  She couldn’t tell him she came to see if she could research the man who haunted her nights. And that man looked just like him. “Vacation. With my cousin, bless her ever living, idiotic heart,” she grumbled then glanced at Ramose.

  Color radiated from his body, drawing Tamara’s gaze. Her eyes were a magnet for special bursts of energy called auras. Just one of those little talents she kept hidden from the world. Energy radiated from every living being, changing with moods and health. His burned bright, blues, greens, even a little red here and there. Then there was the surprising tinge of purple. He was interested in her. Sexually.

  Unlike the reaction she had with the pervert when she saw his interest, Tamara bit her lip and slowed her sudde
n accelerated breathing. Nope, no disgust here.

  “You are angry she left?”

  “Among other things.” They walked toward the exit. His palm rested against her lower back, as though guiding her steps. Or showing possessiveness. She ought to be telling him to take a hike, just like the perv from earlier, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. His hand felt right. Maybe it was because she was alone. Maybe it was the memories of her dreams. Either way, she wasn’t quite ready to send him packing. And that was strange in itself.

  “So, what do you do, Ramose?”

  He smiled. And while his teeth were equally perfect, she didn’t get that artificial perfection from him. Maybe it was because he so confident. “I research various antiquities throughout Egypt.”

  “Really? That must be an awesome job.” Memories of her dreams flashed before her eyes. Images of gold and beautiful antiquities. But to work with them all day? Just thinking about spending her time among such beautiful history made her heart beat faster.

  He nodded. “I do. And it is.”

  “What a fascinating job,” she said with a grin. They moved through the glass doors into the brightly lit hotel foyer.

  “Are you interested in the antiquities?”

  She chuckled under her breath and nodded.

  “Why is that so amusing?”

  She laughed again, her eyes twinkling in the night. “It’s not. I just find it interesting the way you talk.”

  Ramose frowned and arched a brow. “And what is wrong with the way I speak?”

  She bit her lip. “Nothing. It’s just different is all. And, yes, I’m in Egypt because I love their history and can’t wait to see the artifacts.”

  They stepped through the revolving door into the hotel. They were greeted by the cool air conditioned air and the glittering foyer with its marble floors and golden trim.

  Rather than guide her to the elevators, Ramose escorted her to a small couch tucked into the back corner of the foyer. Chandeliers sparkled above them, and the gold leaf from the front desk reflected off the white floors. Again, she thought about stopping him, but a sensation of “rightness” overwhelmed her, as though his side was exactly where she should be, even if just for a moment.

  “I would be happy to take you to the museum in Cairo.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m sure you’re a busy man, and, as much fun as it would be, I have my cousin—”

  “Who has abandoned you to your fate,” he interrupted. His eyes gleamed, and his jaw tightened. She followed his gaze. He was staring at her arm bracelet. Did he not like it? Maybe it was rude to wear one in Egypt. She’d tried learning all their customs and courtesies, but maybe she’d missed one.

  As though he caught himself, he turned his attention back to her, his expression softening. “Let me take you to the museum tomorrow. If your cousin wishes to come, she is more than welcome. And her friend, too, of course.”

  “Husband. Jeff’s her husband.”

  “Her husband, then. I shall come for you in the morning.”

  Tamara frowned. “All right, so long as Julie and her husband can come, I don’t see any harm in it.”

  She worried about his laying out her plans for her, until she saw relief on his face. Odd. His aura was mottled with a mixture of colors, indicating he was hiding something not only from her but from himself. Interesting. Interesting enough for her to want to solve the puzzle that seemed to be Ramose. And, if Julie was right, maybe he was very important to her future.

  “Come.” He got to his feet. “I will escort you to your room and then take my leave.”

  “Funny.” She smiled, half to herself.

  “What’s funny?” Ramose cocked his head in confusion.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone actually say Take my leave. So, tell me, is it because you are Egyptian and your native tongue is Arabic?”

  He grinned. “No, Arabic is not my native tongue, but you are correct. Sometimes, I do use old style language. Perhaps you can teach me to do better?”

  Tamara laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I kind of like it.”

  Chapter Four

  Tamara ground to a halt when Ramose froze half way to the elevator. Dark power skittered over her arms like tiny insects. She glanced up, expecting the chandelier overhead to blink from the sudden flux of energy. It didn’t. Icy power radiated in waves from Ramose’s tense muscles.

  Tamara followed his gaze to the man entering the foyer. Silky strawberry blonde hair cascaded below wide shoulders; long legs smoothly ate up the floor. He moved with the grace of a cat, muscles gliding beneath his clothes. Glacial power cut like a knife in front of him, drawing an involuntary shudder from Tamara’s body.

  A strong arm hooked about Tamara’s waist, and Ramose yanked her to his side then angled his body, putting himself between her and the approaching stranger. She thought about pushing away, until she caught a glimpse of the newcomer’s aura. It was black. A total absence of color. It wrapped about his body like an evil shroud, hiding his true nature. Maybe Ramose’s arms were the perfect place to be in this instant.

  “Why are you in Cairo, Amunkha?” Ramose’s clipped voice was dark and angry.

  Tamara darted her gaze back and forth between the two.

  The stranger moved closer, undeterred. His eyes narrowed. “Ramose, what an unexpected surprise. How good to see you. What brings you to Cairo?” The man’s voice was rich and deep, yet a sensation of sticky syrup ran down Tamara’s spine.

  “Business. You?”

  Dark eyes glittered and traveled quickly from Ramose to Tamara. She couldn’t help but wonder if they spoke English only to keep from sounding rude. But the edge of civility wouldn’t be considered polite by anyone.

  “Watching you, why else?”

  Animosity thickened the air. The stranger’s inky black gaze rested on her, and the chill of unease grew, stealing through her body.

  “Well, well,” said the newcomer. “What have we here?” His eyes raked over her, drinking her in. “Ramose, I have never known you to keep a lady. At least, not for a very long time.”

  A sound rolled from Ramose’s throat. Low and deep, it resembled an animal’s growl.

  The stranger bowed, unperturbed, taking her hand in his to kiss her knuckles. The long red-tinted locks fell forward to brush her skin. The light from above reflected the soft strawberry tones. The romantic gesture did nothing to stop the sensation of cold dread stealing over Tamara’s body. It swept from the top of her head, traveled down like evil fingers, and left a repulsive bone chilling tingle in their wake. She tried to snatch her hand away, but he held tight. His black eyes locked with hers, and he slowly raised her hand to his lips. The sardonic grin told her the man could sense her discomfort.

  “Please, allow me to introduce myself,” the stranger spoke smoothly, his hot breath trailing across her flesh, “as I am sure Ramose will not. I am Amunkha.”

  The instant his lips made contact, her chest constricted, and air refused to fill her lungs. Her knees nearly buckled, and the room tilted on its axis. Ramose’s arm tightened around her. She needed to get away, yet there was no diplomatic way to do so.

  Tamara stiffened her spine, gathering her strength, and yanked her hand from his grip. “I’m Tamara.” She pursed her lips. Evil was on this man’s mind. Evil directed at Ramose.

  Amunkha smiled. “Ramose and I are—”

  “Hanij!” The word thundered from Ramose, stopping the man mid-sentence.

  The stranger’s gaze flicked between the two of them, a smirk on his lips.

  “We were just leaving.” Ramose tightened his grip about Tamara’s waist and wordlessly guided her to the bank of elevators across the foyer.

  Tamara glanced over her shoulder. Dark eyes studied her, measured her. The evil cloak of his aura shook, and, for a minute, she had the impression it was laughing at her. A shudder passed through her body. The gold metallic doors whisked closed, blocking the dark,
icy glare.

  She poked the button to her floor and collapsed against the wall of the elevator. Wave after wave of revulsion rippled down her spine, and the skin on the back of her hand still crawled where Amunkha had kissed it. She rubbed the flesh, trying to dispel the icy sensation left behind.

  “I did not wish you to meet with him.”

  Tamara had almost forgotten she wasn’t alone. She took a deep breath, letting it out slow then looked at the man beside her. “Who was he?”

  He didn’t answer right away. Ramose’s gaze slid to the side, not meeting her eyes. His jaw muscles flexing and tightening. “He’s not important.” He turned at last to face her, his eyes narrowing in concern when she continued to rub the back of her hand.

  Damn, why couldn’t she stop this? The man hadn’t hurt her. Yet, still, she couldn’t shake the oily feeling of evil that rolled off him. Nor the sensation of his lips on the back of her hand.

  “Here, let me.” He took her hand in his and gently massaged away the cold. His fingers burned against her bare flesh, chasing away the frigid sense of evil left behind by Amunkha.

  “Look, I know you don’t know me from Adam,” she began.

  He arched a brow, his lips curved. “You don’t look like an Adam.”

  Tamara flushed. “It’s just an expression.” She waved her hand, brushing away his humor. “But that man out there, Amunkha, he wants to hurt you.”

  Ramose shook his head. “Amunkha has done many things in his life, but he will not hurt me.”

  “Now, there is where you’re wrong.” She pursed her lips. “I know evil when I sense it. Like I said, you don’t know me, but I know things sometimes. Well, not like my cousin Julie knows things. But I can see his aura, and it’s black. No color at all. Do you know what that means?” Shit. This man was going to think she was insane.

  His eyes widened, and he dropped her hand as the elevator doors opened. They moved toward her room.

  Tamara took her room key from her waist pack and reached for the door.

  “Yes,” he said at last, “I know what it means. And you will stay away from him.”