Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri)

by Teresa D'Amario

  Muscles moved before Ramose could even think, his long strides taking him across the room in seconds. Closing his fingers around the man’s collar, he yanked him upward with one clean jerk.

  “Where is he?” he snarled. Deep in his mind, he knew he needed to calm down, but the sight of the spilled cosmetics twisted inside him, ripping away the long-studied control he’d so prized.

  “Where’s who?”

  “Amunkha,” he demanded with a shake at the back of the man’s neck.

  The man paled, his dark hair and eyes the only color in his otherwise bland, frightened face. The rat licked his lips. “I don’t know.”

  “Tell me,” snarled Ramose, his face just inches away. “Or I promise, you will not live to cross me again.”

  The man’s mouth moved, like a fish gasping for breath, but no words made it past his lips.

  “Where?” roared Ramose. Chairs crashed all around him as people charged for the exits, but no one intervened. They probably thought he was about to pull a gun. He didn’t need to fire a shot to kill this human.

  “He’s… He’s at the mastaba an hour out of town.”

  “Good,” said Ramose, pretending to relax. He shoved the scum toward the door. “You’ll get the privilege of showing me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “My dear, time to wake up.”

  The whisper sent tremors through Tamara’s body. The cold edge of sharpened steel chilled her throat an instant before the blindfold whisked away from her eyes.

  Bright light pierced her eyes. She squinted past the pain, her gaze locking on the blurred movement of a hand. The curved edge of the blade slid down her throat, teasing at the buttons of her blouse, before returning to her throat, pricking her skin. Amunkha’s hot, rancid breath fanned over her face, and she coughed.

  Her stomach wretched in response, the nausea from whatever drug he’d given her was swirling and twisting inside her belly. The blurry vision before her cleared, and she realized she was staring at the cold hard curve of a dagger, gripped in a pale, white hand.

  The light flashed as the dagger moved, and the sharp edge slit through the leather straps at her wrists. When had he tied her up? Why had he tied her up?

  “Where am I?” she muttered. Her tongue felt cottony, and the words came out more a croak than a question.

  “In your tomb, my dear.”

  Tamara’s heart lurched. The cold chill of the room made sense. She was laying on someone’s coffin. Not her coffin! She jerked to roll away, but his icy grip stilled her.

  “Make no attempt to escape. I would hate to have to kill you before I have time to enjoy your… charms.”

  The roll in her stomach intensified, and, with it, a trickle of fear down her spine.

  “Get up,” he ordered.

  Glassy black eyes watched her every move, his darkened aura swirled like greasy smoke around his body, so easy to see she could almost reach out and touch it. She ignored the shiver the thought brought. Maybe touching it wasn’t such a good idea.

  “That’s going to be a bit hard to do,” she said, motioning toward her feet.

  He took a step back, waiting.

  Tamara glared at him while she loosened the remaining straps. “You’re insane. Ramose will kill you for this.” It wasn’t that she had confidence in his feelings for her, but she’d seen the look in Ramose’s eyes when it came to this man.

  “Shut up,” he snapped, motioning to the door. “Stand.”

  Resolutely, she pulled herself up and dropped her legs over the side of the cold stone. She slid off, trying to keep her body close to the stone, and as far away from Amunkha as she could. Her legs wouldn’t hold her weight, and her knees buckled. There was no doubting he’d used something strong on that cloth. Chloroform perhaps? Geez, none of the movies she’d ever watched told her it made people this sick.

  That’s right. Concentrate on movies and how people survive those. That’ll be sure to help. Then, again, sarcasm and keeping her thoughts light and distracted kept her from being so scared. A shame it didn’t keep her legs working. She stumbled again, grabbing at the granite slab he’d had her tied to.

  Definitely someone’s tomb.

  “Move,” he sneered. “I want you ready when Ramose gets here.”

  Tamara tried to still the spike in her heartbeat. “If Ramose comes here, it won’t be for me. It will be to kill you.” Maybe not, but, hey, a girl can hope. The image of Ramose killing his two brothers-in-law in his past life flashed in her mind. Quick and deadly. God, she hoped he was as good in this life.

  “Oh, he’ll come for you. No doubt. And I can’t wait to see his face when he watches you die.”

  He grabbed her arm and shoved her toward the door. His touch was cold and clammy, evil to his core. But something… Something she couldn’t quite understand hid beneath the surface, waiting. Hope?

  She stumbled again as she neared the doorway to the next room.

  Impatient, Amunkha wrenched her arm, shoving her back up against the cold block wall. She gasped when the sharp edge of the dagger pressed lightly at the base of her throat. Her mind whirled, and she processed possibilities of escape, until his hand grabbed her throat, the knife lowering to her blouse.

  “Oh, yes.” His words were an icy whisper. His evil eyes raked possessively down her body. Fear clutched her heart, immobilizing her. His preternatural strength pressed her against the wall with ease, lifting her so she was on her toes. His fingers squeezed her throat. She gasped for breath, her nails clawed at his hand, desperate for air, but he was too strong. Amunkha leaned forward and inhaled loudly.

  “At last,” he said approvingly. “I was beginning to think I would never be able to smell your fear. It took more than I expected.” His fingers slowly loosened his hold. “You are a strong woman. Ramose doesn’t deserve you.” He leaned toward her, relishing her scent as if it were a prized wine, his eyes half closed.

  The blade moved to the top button of her blouse. With one flick, it hit the floor, bouncing sharply against the stone slabs. Tamara swallowed convulsively.

  “You see, I like fear,” Amunkha explained, his hips pressed into hers to prove his point, his arousal thrust hard against her hip. “I don’t even need this blade to destroy you, but I love how it intensifies your terror. The smell of a woman’s horror as I drive myself into her is more intoxicating than the finest of wines. And that last moment when she realizes she’s about to die, when her heart races…”

  He shuddered in apparent pleasure.

  “I live for that brief instant.”

  She whimpered and struggled to hide the mounting terror growing inside when the next button hit the floor, echoing through the chamber. Her heart pounded painfully within her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. His hand stayed at her throat, still cold and deadly. Dread washed through her body. She was paralyzed with it, terrified of what was to happen next. Afraid to fight, yet afraid not to fight, her hands dropped to her sides. She held her breath when the sharp edge traced down her skin, separating the blouse, leaving her open for his view.

  She blanched, and her eyes rolled out of focus as his head moved closer and trembled when his tongue licked her cheek. Revulsion and terror ripped through her body. No! Not again, she thought. Horrifying memories pounded in her mind. She tried to grasp the tendrils of sanity; afraid it was a losing battle. She forced herself to remember Ramose was coming to save her, but she wondered if he would be in time. She heard another whimper of fear escape unbidden from her throat when his hot breath brushed her face, when his tongue slithered like a snake down her neck toward her breasts. Evil darkness closed in.

  He was a big man, easily twice her age, in his thirties maybe. He stepped toward her. She was no match for someone like him.

  “Need a lift?”

  Tamara shivered and stepped back. If those three had been so terrified of one man, something must be different about him. Something she could now feel in the pit of her stomach. Evil. “I’m fine. Reall
y. Thanks for scaring those guys off. I gotta go now. My aunt’s just around the corner waiting.”

  She turned and ran. A hand snaked out and grabbed her hair, yanking her back.

  “I don’t think so, little lady,” he said in her ear as he dragged her between the two buildings and slammed her against the wall. “I’d bet there’s nobody out there waitin’ for ya, and, even if there is, they can’t hear you from there.”

  Her body was shoved hard into the brick, slicing into her flesh, ripping her shirt over her breasts. Her cheek slammed into the wall, her tender skin scraping against the rough stone.

  The smell of unwashed flesh burned her nostrils and turned her stomach, and he leaned in to her. “So, my pretty, are you ready for some fun?”

  The icy tendrils of fear crawled up Tamara’s spine, stiffening it for what was to come. She raised her leg and slammed her heel into his foot. He groaned, but only held on tighter. His breath was heavy and disgusting in her ear. “So, you want to play rough, do you?”

  He spun her around to face him then slapped her hard across the face. She let out a scream and tried to run, but he grabbed her arm and threw her back, striking her head against the reddened stone. A knife blade shimmered in the weak light, clenched in his fist.

  He slid it along her face, the cold metal pressing against

  her flesh.

  A whimper of fear escaped her throat.

  “Excellent.” His breath hissed through his teeth. “I love it when you’re scared. When I finish with you, you’ll be more terrified than scared, my pretty.”

  “Please, stop” she whispered, but he merely laughed. The blade trailed down her neck to her blouse. As though it were butter, the sharp edge of the blade sliced through the threads holding the top button in place. She heard it ping to the ground.

  Tamara twisted from his arms, desperate to escape, fighting the icy claws of terror now clutching her wildly beating heart. He laughed again, but one hand closed over her neck, squeezing her throat, blocking the precious flow of oxygen to her lungs. Tamara froze instantly, begging him with her eyes to release her.

  “Such a sweet morsel you are, child. Keep fighting for me.” The knife flicked another button. Her fingers clawed at his hand, and spots flickered before her eyes. The pressure eased on her throat, and Tamara gasped for breath, only to feel another button sliced from her blouse. The man slipped the blade to his mouth, holding it in his teeth, then reached beneath her wide skirt, and ripped her panties away.

  She tried to scream, but the instant she took a deep breath, he squeezed her throat again, strangling any chance for a call for help. Tears poured from her eyes, wetting her cheek. She fought him with all she had, but he was too strong for her. His meaty fist grabbed the knife again and cut open her bra, and the warm, damp breeze rushed in on her.

  Amunkha’s laugh echoed through the chamber. He let go of her body as suddenly as he’d taken hold.

  Her legs buckled, and her limp body dropped to the cold hard floor, her eyes wide as she stared up at him.

  “Get up,” he said his voice hard and flat, his eyes icy black, a sneer on his lips. “We’ll have more time for this later, my dear. Do not be so disappointed. I will have you before I kill you.”

  Her body shook. Her sanity slowly returned. “No.” The word came out as a croak. The past was over. An image of Ramose unfolded in her mind. A man whose warmth and comfort, despite the cold he commanded, would save her. Or she would save herself.

  She swallowed hard and said it again, stronger this time, “NO.” She dug inside in search of the heat. She could feel it, she could sense it, but she couldn’t grasp hold of it. Whatever drug he’d given her seemed to hinder her skills. She tried to reach her fire, but all she found were embers.

  Surprised, he arched an eyebrow at her.

  “No?” He sneered, his lips curling. “It is already decided, my dear, the time is the only variable. Now, get up,” he ordered. When she hesitated, he grabbed her arm again, his fingers tight, bruising her as he lifted her with one hand.

  Tamara swung. Her fist collided hard with his nose, and she spun about, kicking outward. Her foot contacted his thigh, missing the all-important spot. She didn’t care. She wasn’t going to be used. “Never again,” she cried.

  White-hot fury erupted from the man before her. His energy spiked, and his dark, evil aura grew, as though circling and building strength. Tamara’s eyes widened, and she turned to run, but not before the cold steel of his blade sliced into her belly.

  She screamed, grabbing for her stomach, as though trying to hold her insides within. She struggled for strength, but it eluded her, seeping out of her body even as her blood oozed between her fingers. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor. She didn’t feel the pain. Not really. Cold washed over. Not the cold of Ramose’s hands, but the bone chilling cold that stole her reason and threatened her life.

  His laughter twisted through the darkness, digging into her body, shoving the chill from her spine to her heart. She wanted to be brave, but his evil was even worse than what she’d experienced as a child. She could see it as clearly as if it were a physical entity, a black blanket of evil wrapped around him, cocooned him in its cold reality.

  Time would not stand still and await Ramose’s return.

  She glanced at her hands. Blood dripped from each finger. The droplets traveled across the floor, searching out the crevices and seams of the stones beneath her feet. Her eyes fluttered, and her hand dropped to her side. Darkness seeped into the edges of her consciousness.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said. He put his hand over the wound. Heat burned in her side at his touch. “Not yet. You will not die until Ramose gets here.” The bleeding slowed, but did not stop. Her eyes fluttered open. He hadn’t saved her, merely slowed the inevitable.

  “You’re going to die for this.” Her words were weak, but, inside, strength rushed through her remaining blood.

  “Ramose has wanted to kill me for thousands of years, my dear. I have been here since before time and shall be here long after you are gone. I told you, you are no more than a pawn in our little cat and mouse game.”

  Tamara’s ears were ringing, but she’d sworn he’d said thousands of years.

  “I am here, Kha-Ib. Be patient. Just a moment more.”

  Tamara’s eyes jerked open. Had she really heard Ramose in her head?

  Amunkha grabbed her wrist, dragging her into the next room, where he deposited her on the floor, her blood a sedentary red like the Nile. She wanted to fight, wanted to struggle, but the blood loss had weakened her. A spark of flame fluttered in her body. Whatever he’d done to heal her had awakened her talents. Maybe it had even cleansed the drug he’d given her. Now, if she could just stay alive long enough to use them.

  “Hurry,” she whispered in her mind, hoping he could hear her. “I’m hurt.”

  Explosive fury shot through the connection between them before he yanked it back. “Hold on,” he whispered. Not once had the Ramose of the past lost control when fighting for his life. In all her dreams, he’d always been cool and controlled, even when facing his brothers-in-law. Yet, now, she could sense the precipice to which he clung.

  Cold seeped into her bones, at such odds with the flame growing in her chest. She fought to control her breathing. She wasn’t afraid anymore. No matter what happened, she knew one important thing. Even if he hadn’t admitted it, Ramose cared for her. His attraction wasn’t just physical.

  The soft smile on her lips caused Amunkha to growl in response. Too bad. If she was to lose her life now, at least, she had Ramose’s love. I love you. She didn’t know if he could hear her, but she pinned her hopes that he could.

  A soft hissing reached her ears. Sand trickled from above them, rushing toward the floor of the mastaba tomb. Or maybe it was her soul preparing to leave her body, for even her breathing was loud, reverberating around the room.

  “Ahh, our guest is arriving. I can’t wait to see how he takes your impe
nding death.” Amunkha’s voice was cold, an edge of steel beneath the casually spoken words.

  Tears stung her eyes. She would not die. She couldn’t. Not now. She’d found him. Dreams or no dreams, he lived. Whoever he was, a man, always alone, he was hers.

  Energy exploded through the room, ice forming on the already cold edges of stone. Tamara fought back a sob. Relief? Sadness? She wasn’t even sure she knew.

  Ramose.

  “Amunkha!” The force of her soul mate’s anger shook the foundation of the ancient tomb. Like tiny spider webs, ice crackled and weaved its way around the room, searching. For her?

  Ramose stormed inside. Like her own avenging angel, he stalked, his body surging with the power which clung to his every tense muscle.

  He halted directly in front of Amunkha, his face hard as stone, fury the only emotion that burned in his dark eyes.

  He glowered at his nemesis, his hands balled into fists at his side. “Let. Her. Go.” Anger filled the room like an icy wind, chilling the air they breathed.

  “Must you be so prosaic?” Amunkha stood, evil confidence wrapped around him. “Besides, I find your attachment to her amusing. A new toy. And I love to play with new toys. All these years, I thought you emotionless and boring. Imagine my surprise.”

  “I will not allow you to drag innocents into our battle. You have severely miscalculated.” His voice was edged with steel. He took a step forward.

  “I would not be so sure of yourself.” Amunkha’s teeth snapped, reminding Tamara of the image of a jackal as it stalked its prey.

  Ramose caught her gaze, though his expression didn’t change. The tiniest of caresses brushed against her cheek. The small touch of power was warm, and she was so cold. Her fingers trembled, and she looked down her body, shocked to see ice forming and encircling her. It built upward, a clear wall of ice separating her from the men.

  “No,” she croaked. She didn’t want protection. She didn’t want the cold. She needed to help. But the men ignored her. With lightning speed, the crystals formed above her, around her, encircling her. Protecting her from what she knew would be an intense battle.