Bloody Kisses (20 page)

T
he next hour
was spent trying to raise someone on the phone at the dig site. She’d finally been able to speak with one of the students who advised her they were leaving. She asked them to call her when they were safely back at their hotels. Water in the tombs could be catastrophic to the dig, but she wouldn’t risk anyone’s life over it.

Xavier had gone down to the business office, citing a billing issue he had to take care of. The curtains to the balcony were open and the sun was hidden behind dark clouds. Such odd weather for Alexandria. They really only had two seasons—summer and winter. They were in the latter part of summer. Humidity was common but rain wasn’t. Especially torrential rain.

The gods have spoken
.

She spun around at the sound of the hushed voice. Xavier’s voice. The room was empty, but the scent of lilies was strong.

More and more she was becoming a believer that she’d upset the gods and it was Xavier’s fault. She dropped her phone into purse and walked to the door. Leaving while he wasn’t there to influence her was the smartest move.

* * *

B
ack in her room
, Olive hefted her suitcase onto the stand next to the closet. She’d fulfilled her obligation to Wells and the rain had probably compromised the dig. She wanted to go home. She wasn’t concerned that anyone would find out what she’d done. Mother Nature had just covered her tracks but her conscience would punish her.

She crammed her clothes and shoes into the case. Exhaustion after a long day in the tombs was a familiar feeling. But the kind of tired she felt came from deep inside her soul. The main focus was to get home but her body simply refused to cooperate. Her eyes burned and her lids were heavy.

She leaned back on the pillows to rest for a just a moment and fell into the darkness of sleep. The man with the kohl-lined eyes who’d been following her stood in a carved doorway. All the comforts of her fancy hotel room were gone. The bedside lamps were replaced with torches secured on the wall by golden sconces. Alabaster jars held jasmine, rose and lemongrass oils. The air was cool and fragranced with herbs.

Olive sat on a thick straw mat and nibbled on the last bit of honey cake. A swatch of papyrus was laid out before her and she painted foreign symbols on it. She shouldn’t know what they meant but she did. She was telling a story on the page. The man in the doorway…his name was Mekh and he was guarding her. But from what?

A loud crash in the corridor startled her and she rose to her feet. She wore a silky white gown and jeweled bracelets hung on her wrists. She backed up away from the door. Mekh turned to her with wide eyes just as another man plunged a dagger into his back.

A scream tore from her. “No!”

The killer dropped Mekh to the stone floor and pulled the knife from between his shoulder blades. Blood dripped from the blade. He was unkempt and dressed poorly. This man didn’t belong there.

He smiled. “It is time for you to die, princess.”

Her back hit the wall and tears spilled down her cheeks. She pulled the bracelets off her arm. “Here. Take whatever you want.”

He moved in close to her face. Acrid breath triggered her gag reflex.

“I intend to.” Without any ceremony or warning, the man stabbed her just above her breast.

The searing pain stole her breath. With trembling fingers, she reached for the dagger’s hilt.

A growl sounded from the door. Two large black dogs charged the man and took him to the ground. A vase of blue lilies tipped over spilling water on her still-wet painting.

The man swung at the dogs but they didn’t back down. The animals snarled and tore at his flesh. One of them locked its jaws on the back of his neck and dragged him toward the door.

Olive was afraid to pull the knife from her body. There was little pain and little blood with the blade lodged in her chest. She looked up and locked gazes with another man.

With tears in his eyes, he shook his head. “No. No.”

Each attempt to pull in a breath was met with more resistance. She slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Her vision blurred and the last thing she heard was a whisper. “Don’t die.”

“Xavier.” His name was on her lips as she jolted awake. The practical side of her wanted nothing to do with him but a greater force beckoned her. Olive tried to resist the desperate tug on her veins and the rabbit’s pace of her heart. Blood rushed through her with a frenzy She should be leaving, hailing a cab to the airport.

Yet before she could stop herself, she was standing in front of his hotel room, fist poised to knock. She wasn’t impulsive and she didn’t chase asshole men, but there was an invisible tether between them and she needed to know why.

She didn’t have to knock. The latch clicked and the door opened.

Xavier smiled but his features were tight, stressed, his eyes red-rimmed, as if he were in pain. “I knew you’d come.”

“This enigma is driving me crazy. I’m having weird dreams and hallucinating or...I know this is all tied to you somehow and that damned scarab. If you know something, tell me because I’m about to lose my mind.”

“Come and sit.” His room seemed bigger than before, or maybe her perspective was just different, and boasted separate sleeping quarters. The couch was dark leather and squeaked when he sat on the edge. He patted the spot beside him.

She joined him but didn’t get too comfortable.

“I know you don’t like me,” he started.

“Actually, I do and it pisses me off. I can’t figure out why. You represent everything I despise.”

“I think you misjudge me.”

* * *

“
T
his life hasn’t been
kind to me. My daughter died from leukemia when she was six. I’ve been funding research since then.” He cleared his throat and licked his lips. “That was life changing.”

“What about her mother?”

“Marriages rarely survive that kind of trauma. We were exhausted and we both had wounds that couldn’t heal. Maybe because of each other. Every time I looked at her I saw Sara’s big brown eyes and it was like salt in a cut. I imagine every time she looked at me she saw the blond curls that she’d never comb or put up in a ponytail again. Whatever it was, it broke us. Losing Sara caused irreparable damage.”

Her snide comment about funneling money from kids with cancer burned inside her like bile rising in her throat. She was an asshole for assuming what she had.

“I’m sorry for what I said before.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“We need to take the scarab back. This storm, that guy you had kidnap me, this is all because of that scarab. We’ve angered the gods.” The terrible dreams of judgment and death gnawed at her.

“Olive, listen to me for a few minutes, okay?” His hair was disheveled, as if he’d been running his hand through it. “We’re not taking the scarab back.”

“But—”

“We’re not taking it back because we didn’t steal it.”

“No.
We
didn’t. I did.”

“It belongs to me. It’s mine. Do you understand?” Xavier stood then paced in front of her. He yanked at his tie until it was loose enough to pull free.

“I guess so.” What was that saying that possession was nine-tenths of the law? “But I just dreamed of my own murder at the hands of some kind of Egyptian bandit. What if that’s prophetic? A warning?”

“It’s not.”

“How do you know? God, I’m so confused.” Olive paced in front of the coffee table and stopped short when she saw the vase of blue lilies. She was certain they hadn’t been there earlier.

“Funeral flowers. Did you send that one to my room? Why would you do that? I feel like I should know but I don’t.” She balled her hands into fists and her nails dug into her palms.

“I had hoped it might make you remember.”

“Remember what?”

“This.” Xavier stood and walked to the dresser. He held up a square wooden box. The contents of the box were spilled onto the table.

Two heart scarabs. The one she’d stolen and another, smaller one carved out of the same obsidian. A gray feather settled between them.
If the heart is lighter than the feather, you shall pass to the next life
.

“Where did you get that one?” Olive pointed to the smaller one.

“I stole your heart once upon a time.” Xavier unbuttoned his shirt. He picked up the two relics then pulled her hand to the center of his chest, pressing the heart scarabs between her palm and his flesh. “Do you feel the frantic beat of my heart?”

Olive stared up at him as the
thump-thump
of his heart grew harder. The scarabs began to heat up. “Yes.”

The lights dimmed of their own volition. His heartbeat remained constant, but his image shifted and blurred and came back into focus.

She blinked. “What’s happening?”

“It’s finally coming to fruition.”

“What is?” she whispered.

Xavier closed his eyes. Dark lashes fanned over his cheeks. The room shook like an earthquake and he gritted his teeth. Lightning flashes blinded her and Xavier pulled her against his shoulder. Thunder rattled the sliding glass door and rain slammed against it.

The scarabs burned hotter and she pulled away her hand. The both glowed red where they landed on the carpet.

She pressed her face to his chest. Her cheek scraped over something soft but it wasn’t his warm skin. It was something else. Bandages. Strips of aged linen covered his body and even his head.

Olive gasped. “Xavier?”

“Unravel me.” The words were muffled but clear enough for her to understand.

“I don’t understand what’s happening.”

His breathing slowed. He was suffocating.
No. No. No!

Panic and adrenaline caused her hands to shake as she searched for an edge to pull. Her fingers slipped over the silky strips of linen. “I don’t know how.” She forced herself to stop and think. She was a fucking archeologist. Mummies were her area of expertise. The head and neck would have been wrapped first. Then the toes and fingers. What was next? She pulled at the bandages near his chin but they didn’t budge.

Near his shoulder blade, she found a hard spot of resin. The seal. She picked at it with her fingernails but to no avail. There were no scissors in the hotel room. With no other feasible option, she bit into the resin with her teeth. It was like biting into a candied apple. Not the soft caramel kind but the red ones with a hard candy coating. She chewed and pulled like an animal.

Finally, the resin cracked and she had edge of linen in her hand. She circled him quickly to unwrap him.

Her mind reeled as she tried to grasp if she was asleep again. The dreams of the past few days had been as vivid as what was happening in front of her now. Or she had just gone off the deep end and lost her fucking mind. But she couldn’t stop; she was compelled to save him.

Before long, she was dizzy but his neck and shoulders were unwrapped. The most important was his head, though. She found the end tucked under his chin and quickly unwrapped his face. His eyes were closed but he was breathing.

Olive stood on tiptoes to cup his face. “Xavier. Can you hear me?”

His nose moved. He tilted his head to the side and the bones cracked as if they hadn’t moved in years.

She pulled at the other bindings. “What the fuck is going on?”

His lips were dry. “Remember when I said curses weren’t real? I was lying.”

“So
this
is a curse?” The bandages seemed to go on forever but she didn’t stop.

“Sort of. You know how we believed that the sun died each night and was reborn again each morning?”

“I know the mythology, yes.”

Xavier opened his eyes. “We’re about to be reborn.”