Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri)

by Teresa D'Amario

  Shock, then pain unlike anything he’d ever experienced, ripped at his heart. His head grew light, and he stumbled, unable to maintain his balance. His heart stuttered, skipping a beat. Fingers of dread gripped his lungs. “It is not possible,” he whispered. He stared at the priest.

  “I am sorry, my friend. He died just moments ago.”

  The pouch fell, its contents no longer required. The vial inside rolled across the limestone floor. Ramose dropped to his knees, oblivious of the hard surface, his hands covering his face.

  “It cannot be” he said softly, defeated.

  A boy king dethroned by death.

  Chapter Eight

  The desert’s morning rays filled the already warm hotel room. Tamara strode across the floor till she met the dresser then spun, heading in the opposite direction. Good thing this hotel had nice carpet, or she’d wear a hole in it before the end of this trip. She’d already made at least five trips across her room, testing her candles for softness. None were melted. The look on her cousin’s face, however, told her Julie was getting frustrated.

  “He’s not going to bite you, Tamara.”

  “And how do you know? Julie, I can’t take this! What if…what if I freak out or something? What if I forget and set fire to the museum? What if he’s not what he was in the dreams?”

  “Why wouldn’t he be what he was in the dreams? You know how that works. You dream about your soul mate starting at puberty, and it continues until you are joined. What else could there be?”

  “Damn it, Julie. Let me tell you what the problem is. Do you know what I dreamed last night? Do you want me to tell you?” Tamara halted in front of her cousin and propped her fists on her hips. “I dreamed he was living in Ancient Egypt, entering the palace, and someone close to him died. And, all through the dream, I knew he was hiding his identity. And I’m not talking about recently. I’m talking about thousands of years ago. It can’t be real. I’m seeing something that needs interpretation. Give me something I can use. Something to make me more comfortable about spending time alone with this man.”

  She resumed her trek back and forth across the room, her fingers twisting in her hair. She shouldn’t be this nervous. Hell, she shouldn’t be nervous at all. Her dreams told of his past lives, but not about what he was today. And she couldn’t seem to stop the nagging feeling deep in the pit of her stomach which told her something big was about to happen. And not all of it good.

  Her cousin sighed and shook her head. “Tamara, I wish I could. You’re going to have to face your inner demons, and you’re going to have to face him.”

  Tamara stopped, spinning toward her cousin. “Face my inner demons? What makes you think that’s what my problem is? What is it you aren’t telling me?”

  Julie’s face was pinched and her eyes wide. Tamara had never seen her look like this. Torn, maybe, wanting to tell her what she saw, and yet afraid to.

  “I can’t help you, Tamara.” Julie slid into the chair by the window, her hands rubbing her head. “I don’t understand what I’m seeing enough to do any good. I can’t even put it into words. I just know… I know he’s the one for you, and I know he brings with him danger, and change.” She spread her hands out in front of her.

  Guilt washed over Tamara, and she sighed. Her cousin, the one who knew everything, was confused. Lost. Tears teased at the corner of her cousin’s eyes.

  Tamara dropped in front of her, brushing the sandy blonde hair from her face. “It’s not your fault, Julie,” she said, cupping her cousin’s chin in her hand. “I’ll figure it out. I’ve done it before. I’ve grown used to your input on my life is all. It’s time I learned to deal with things on my own.”

  And she had. For most of their lives, Julie had been the shining beacon in the family, sharing her ideas of the future to keep everyone out of trouble. The one time she herself had failed to listen, her life had changed. Drastically.

  Scooting back to rest on her feet, Tamara laughed. “I can’t believe we are both so upset over this. We know the future is always in flux anyway, so the chances of you interpreting things right when you don’t know Ramose, well, it’s probably pretty slim. Besides,” she motioned with her hand, “this is your honeymoon, so you need to go get Jeff. Ramose will be here soon.” She smiled, hoping to shake the morose mood she’d shoved her cousin into head first.

  Julie gave her a wan smile. “Jeff and I are going to stay here, at the hotel. Once he wakes up, we’ll hang out at the pool and let you come back and tell us how things were.”

  Tamara bit her lip to hide the panic surging in her throat. “I understand,” she croaked. It wasn’t just that the two J’s wanted to hang out by the pool. Something in the flashes of the future Julie had seen meant Tamara should go to the museum alone.

  “Don’t worry,” said Julie, standing and walking to the door. “You’ll be fine.”

  “So you say.”

  A sharp double rap on the door sent Tamara’s already nervous heart straight into her throat. He was here. She shot a look toward Julie.

  “Don’t just stand there. Your future awaits.”

  The conspiratorial grin on Julie’s face gave Tamara the last boost she needed for her confidence. Tamara stuck her tongue out. “Gee, thanks.”

  Her palm was moist and her fingers stiff when she reached for the door lever.

  Ramose stood on the other side, once again dressed in all black. His sleeves were long, but rolled up mid forearm exposing powerful muscles beneath a golden brown tan. His dark shirt opened at the neck, revealing a strong rope of sinew stretching into powerful shoulders. There was a smile on his full lips, but when she raised her eyes to meet his, what she saw was not pleasure or amusement. What she saw was surprise.

  His scent rolled through her body. So edgy and masculine it took her breath away. The urge to step forward and bury her nose in his neck was almost overwhelming. Now that was something not in the dreams.

  Refusing to be taken in, she stepped back.

  “Good morning, Ramose.” She smiled, and, following Julie, the two sidestepped him into the hallway.

  “You remember my cousin? Her name is Julie. Julie, this is Ramose.”

  * * * *

  Ramose took in the woman he’d barely glimpsed the night before. She was no taller than Tamara, with both women just over five feet. That’s where the resemblance ended. Where Tamara’s hair was dark, Julie’s was a sandy, almost dirty blonde. Where Tamara’s figure held rounded feminine curves, Julie was slender and pencil thin. Tamara was definitely the more attractive of the two humans.

  Even after a night’s rest, he still experienced a powerful attraction to a human. Odd. Swallowing the urge to rush toward Tamara, he took Julie’s hand. “The pleasure is mine.”

  Her palm tingled against his skin, as though reaching into his cells, searching for…what? There was no way to know how deep her magick could go, and that meant he needed to be careful. He let go and fought the urge to flex his palm to shake loose whatever energy her body contained.

  “Will you be accompanying us?”

  Julie shook her head and walked backwards down the hall, a grin on her face. “Nope, not me. I’m just gonna,” she motioned toward the next suite’s door, “spend some time here, at the hotel. You two have fun now.” She giggled and ducked in her room.

  Curious, Ramose glanced at Tamara who shrugged.

  “What can I say, she’s on her honeymoon.”

  “Ahh, yes, I understand.” These two women were different than most humans. They felt almost like…Petiri. He shrugged off the thought then turned to Tamara. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded.

  Her Napshua glinted at him from her right bicep.

  He tried to analyze the strange play of emotions at the sight. He liked that it was important to her. Yet, on another level, seeing her wear the piece reminded him of his task. It would be easier to drill her for information if she was wearing the object of his desire.

  His gaze roved over and up he
r delectable body, taking in the tight American jeans, the soft, cotton blouse, before settling on her full, sensuous lips.

  Make that one of the objects of his desire.

  Jemy Bah. The Petiri curse twisted in his mind. She was human. And female. And fire. If ever there was a time to be on his guard, it was now. First, the Napshua then she’d caught Amunkha’s attention. It was almost like the man could sense Ramose’s own attraction where none belonged.

  If luck worked on his side, he would be fine. She was on vacation, probably going home in a week. He had to move fast if he wanted to find out how she came to own a Petiri Napshua.

  He held out his hand. “Let us go, then.”

  She gave him a small smile, her eyes fluttering closed, and then she placed her hand in his. The instant they made contact, a sizzle of heat shot through his blood. Ramose sucked fresh oxygen into his suddenly squeezed lungs. He clenched his teeth to keep from hissing in a shocked breath. The ice inside him steamed at the contact and then settled.

  Not good. What if she were to touch more of him? Would he lose his power? He released her hand, using the excuse to press the elevator button before shoving his hand into his pocket to hide the flexing of warmed fingers.

  Silence echoed off the brass walls of the elevator. She stood beside him and toyed with her strange waist pack. As the floors passed, Ramose struggled to keep from copying her, his own brain searching for something to do. After mere seconds in this human female’s presence, he struggled to keep from fidgeting. The premonition from the night before still pounded at his brain, and he knew this woman was the key.

  But where to start?

  “So, do you like Egypt?” he blurted.

  “Are you Egyptian?” she asked.

  They looked at one another surprised, and she laughed. Embarrassment, followed by amusement bubbled through his chest, and he couldn’t help but join her. Twice, she’d made him laugh in just as many days. It was nice to laugh again.

  “You first,” he said, still smiling.

  She chuckled then began. “Are you Egyptian? Your eyes kinda look different. Most of the locals I’ve met so far have brown eyes, and, last night, you said Arabic wasn’t your native language.”

  He shook his head. “No, though I have lived here a great deal of my life. It is my home.” The elevator doors slid open, and they strode across the marble floor, their shoes clicking softly on the square tiles.

  “Really? So where are you originally from? Your last name is definitely not Egyptian. British, isn’t it?

  He nodded, his eyes appraising her. Either she’d done her homework last night, or she was intelligent. Either way, he was going to need to be careful. “Yes, it is.”

  “So, you’re a misplaced Brit?”

  “You could say that,” he said, holding open the glass door in the foyer, and they stepped out into the sun. There were a lot of ‘misplaced Brit’s’ in Egypt. A black Mercedes pulled up to the curb, and Ramose opened the rear passenger door. “After you,” he said, motioning her inside with the wave of one elegant arm.

  “You’re very own driver?” she asked with a grin.

  He shrugged. “A friend. He likes to drive, and I don’t.” She arched a brow and then climbed into the automobile.

  Her eyes were different than most human’s. Blue. Ringed with gold. He’d noticed them last night. In his world, that meant something very special. Royalty. In this world, a Petiri of such eyes would be considered a goddess as her talents developed, overshadowing all others.

  She slid across to the far side of the seat. With a light shake of his head, he stepped into the car. The perfume of lilies washed over him as though he’d stepped into a blooming garden. The scent slammed into him, rolling like a desert khamsin, stealing his breath, filled his lungs, and seeping into his blood. By the gods! Heat rushed from his lungs, surging low, his body hardening to the point of pain. Ramose hid his grimace of discomfort as he settled into the backseat

  and closed the door.

  “Are you all right?”

  Ramose nodded. He couldn’t explain his reaction. Even he didn’t understand it. His body ached with the desire to touch her, and he gripped the edges of the seat, determined to overcome. Lilies. Why, by all the gods, did she have to smell like lilies? He’d always thought his Kha-Ib, the heart of his soul, would carry that scent. A scent as powerful and strong as the woman he’d once hoped to find. A woman he’d left behind on Petiri when he’d volunteered for this forsaken mission.

  “Yes, I do.”

  The sound of words seeped into his fuddled brain, and he turned to her, puzzled. “Excuse me?”

  “You asked if I liked Egypt. My answer is yes. It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to get to the museum.”

  “You like history?”

  “I do. I’ve dreamed of Egypt all my life, and I can’t wait to see the objects of my obsession,” she said with an impish grin.

  He quirked his mouth into a semblance of a smile to hide the grinding of his teeth. Can I be your object of obsession? No, he did not just have that thought. He couldn’t. He wasn’t the flirting type. “And what is it about Egypt that obsesses you?”

  She smiled, her eyes glittering with excitement, then turned to the window. “This,” she said, motioning toward the city. “Everything. Ancient history, current culture. A mixture of two different worlds colliding in the city. Think about it, Ramose,” her body radiated with energy, “thousands of years before the American continent was discovered by Europeans, Egyptian society had built itself into its own superpower. Then, in the blink of an eye, it disappeared. The writings, the art, everything, lost beneath the desert sands. Why? How could an entire people allow such destruction of their history?”

  This time when he smiled, he meant it. “I am not so sure it was their choice. The Romans were just the end. Though it is true, it is rare an entire people are lost, even their method of written language. It is a pleasure to know it is now recovered. You mentioned their art. I see you like ancient jewelry as well.”

  Her eyes never left the sights on the other side of her car window. “What makes you say that?”

  It was now or never. “Your arm bracelet.”

  She turned to face him, her face puzzled. “Ancient? What makes you think it’s ancient?”

  He arched a disbelieving brow. She was playing coy. She had to be. “You don’t know?”

  She shook her head, now seeming oblivious to the sights and sounds which had held her enthralled just moments before.

  Ramose sighed. “The bracelet you wear is a symbol of an old people of the sands. It’s called a Napshua and is probably several thousand years old.”

  Her hand shot to her arm, and he wondered if she was trying to protect it. He could understand that. The Napshua was more than a hunk of metal. Her fingers traced the tail of the golden serpent trailing down her arm, her eyes far away in thought. The sight of her fingers delicately caressing the asp’s body sent another wave of desire through him.

  “What people?”

  Ramose hesitated. He couldn’t give her too much information, or he’d find himself in a bind. No matter how attracted he was to this female, he still couldn’t trust her. He’d learned that lesson a long time ago.

  “They have no name. They have lived in the desert since ancient times, keeping separate from most of the world. They prefer their solitude.” Everything he told her was true.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Nomads?”

  He nodded. That was as good as any description, he supposed.

  “And you think this arm bracelet is from them? Why?”

  He shrugged. “The design. The color. The way the metal sparkles. It’s different from....” He’d almost blown it.

  “From what?”

  “From anything.”

  Frowning, Tamara nodded, but he saw anger and mistrust flash in her eyes. He needed to be more careful. He did not wish to alienate her before he got his answers.

  She pursed her lips and turned back t
o the window.

  “How did you come by it?”

  Chewing her lip, she turned back to him. “It’s a family heirloom.”

  The car pulled into the Antiquities Museum parking lot and pulled to a stop.

  * * * *

  Tamara waited for Ramose to open the door, enjoying the vision of smooth, fluid grace in every move.

  “Shall we?” He offered her his hand and helped her from the car.

  At first, his fingers were cool in contrast to the warm air surrounding them. Cold even. A cold her internal heat yearned for. Yet as she absorbed his touch, his fingers warmed, their heat warming her flesh. Odd.

  Hands linked, they walked into the compound. Guards patrolled along black iron gates, ever watchful for terrorists or pickpockets. Once a palace, the neoclassical design stood the test of time. The architecture was all sharpness, the corners, the shape of the building, but the salmon-colored bricks were softened by the arched first floor windows. Two tall palms stood sentry on either side of the doors, guarding the entrance to Egypt’s most protected artifacts.

  “What are those?” Tamara nodded to the rectangular concrete fountain filled with plants.

  “That’s papyrus, and the flat ones are lotus plants. They are symbolic of lower and upper Egypt.”

  She nodded. The tall weedy papyrus looked nothing like what she’d expected. Before laying eyes on a single artifact, she was already impressed.

  She couldn’t help but hold her breath when they passed through the museum doors then let it out slowly. History called to her, warm and comforting. Awe inspiring.

  Ramose guided her to the right, toward the statues and artifacts of times long past. The main hall was filled with large, impressive statues, the smaller rooms heavily laden with works of art and items such as death masks.

  They walked and talked. While Ramose described each piece with an easy familiarity, his green eyes sparkled with excitement.

  Chapter Nine

  So far, Ramose had enjoyed showing his world to Tamara. He loved watching her joy and awe as she studied each item within the museum. Blue and gold eyes sparkled as though imagining herself living in those ancient times. But he wasn’t here to enjoy himself. He was here to learn something, and the only thing he’d managed to learn was how much she attracted him. Sexual frustration aside, he still hadn’t so much as made an hourglass sand’s progress about the Napshua. All he’d gotten from her was it was a family heirloom. It didn’t take a god to make that leap before she’d told him of its origin. He’d spent enough time with her to know she wasn’t a thief, but that didn’t mean he could back off from his mission.