Heart of the Gods (11 page)

There would be repercussions for the events there, of that Ky was certain. It was just a matter of how long it would take to be felt and how severe. A part of him fretted even as he went over it in his mind. There had been nothing he could have done to have changed the way it had turned out.

Ryan and John were relating their adventures of the morning to Komi, who looked mildly shocked and distressed.

As usual, John altered the events somewhat and Ryan let him, rolling his eyes behind John’s back.

To hear John tell it, he’d been protecting Ryan.

Ky made himself let it go. What had happened had happened. It couldn’t be changed. They could only wait to see what happened next.

Turning from them, he smiled.

Raissa had already settled into her chair, this time with her feet up on the wall, to work on the papyrus from their find in the wall of the fort. It was a good thing she was wearing shorts, or both he, John and Ryan were likely to have been very uncomfortable. As it was, those lovely smoothly muscled legs were clearly on display, Raissa oblivious to the effect, propping the clipboard against her thighs to study one of the papyri she’d discovered.

For himself, beyond admiring those legs from time to time to his personal discomfort, he read the transcripts of her translations of the others that had been found. Then he reread them, frowning slightly… If Raissa’s translations were correct… On the computer he pulled up another, older set of translations, studying both the hieroglyphics and the translation.

Ky had always had questions about that interpretation. Something about the translation just hadn’t rung true or sounded right. Either way, it was crucial to his own search. If the original was correct―and he’d factored that in, considering the eminence of the source―then the possible location of the tombs shifted north by a number of miles, turning more west than he thought it should. Raissa had interpreted it differently.

As there was both a good clear picture of the tablet and the translation available on the internet through his satellite connection, it would be an interesting exercise, especially since she could zoom in on some of the characters.

“Raissa,” he said, “could you come here please?”

Unfolding herself from the chair, an interesting exercise for his heart rate, she came to join him.

Without appearing to, he breathed in the soft scent of her, sweet, faintly spicy.

“Take a look at this,” he said.

She leaned closer and her hair swung forward to brush his arm before she gathered it in her hand and drew it over the other shoulder to expose the slender curve of her throat. For only a second, her blue eyes met his…

Raissa forced her gaze from his gold-tinted deep brown eyes to the computer screen, taking a slow deep breath.

Every time she was this close to him her breath came short.

Swallowing against the tightness in her throat, she studied the text.

It was actually an intriguing challenge and there were a few places where she would have quarreled with the previous translator.

Ky noted her frown as she reread a passage.

“What is it?” he asked.

Looking at him, she asked, “Why does he prefer the masculine to the feminine?”

“That’s what she said,” Ryan quipped from his desk, where he was piecing together a lovely little clay lamp they’d recovered from the ruins.

With a laugh, Raissa shook her head at him.

Ky gave him a quelling look, smothering a laugh.

“Why?” Ky asked Raissa. “Does it matter?”

“It depends on which you prefer,” Ryan explained patiently, grinning.

Chuckling, Ky said, “I was talking to Raissa.”

“Her, too,” Ryan said, still grinning.

This time it was Raissa who gave Ryan a look, rolling her eyes.

He just grinned, unrepentant, looking like a slightly demented and oversized elf with his round face, dimples and incongruous knitted hat.

“May I?” Raissa asked, indicating the chair.

Nodding, Ky vacated it, switching places with her.

Leaning a hand on the back of the chair and another on the table, Ky angled over her to look at the portion of the text she was translating.

He could smell the scent of her hair and that scent, sweet and slightly spicy, from her skin. It did wonders for his heart rate but nothing for his concentration. Not to mention the view, looking down at her now he had a clear view of the tops of her breasts beneath the t-shirt she’d worn beneath the abaya.

“Perhaps,” she said, looking up at him.

Her breath seemed to catch a little to find him standing there so close but she didn’t move away.

It took a second for him to realize what she was talking about.

“The ancient Egyptians didn’t differentiate, they were very egalitarian but that bias shows in him,” she said, quietly. “I would read it slightly differently here and here, giving equal weight to the accounts given, something he didn’t, assuming the priestess’s account to be less important than that of the priest.”

It was a short transcript of the burial of a priest of Osiris, just a piece of text that might have been a story but the slight difference in accounts moved the possible location of the beginning of the journey to the tomb, one that hinted they’d used a corner of the fort as one reference, the other the entry.

“If the fort was the starting point, it could make a great deal of difference,” Ky said, excitement rising.

“The landmarks will have changed a great deal in the time since this was written,” Raissa cautioned. “Three thousand years is a long time.”

“Yes,” he said, “but with different accounts, we can triangulate, narrow it down.”

With a new direction in which to look―an error of cubits translating into miles of distance―he could do some plotting, some triangulation. Perhaps define an entirely new search area, away from Karl Brunner―and his male/female bias.

He could have kissed her and almost did but once again caught himself, too aware of eyes on them.

There was a knock at the door, which, after their incident in the souk, was closed and locked for once.

Looking at them all, worriedly, Komi said, “I will get it, Professor…”

His expression nervous, unsettled, his speech even more halting, Komi returned quickly. His tone was hesitant, careful.

“There is a policeman here,” he whispered, “An Inspector Hassan.”

“It’s all right, Komi,” Ky said, laying a hand on his shoulder as he went by. “Don’t worry.”

An act that was difficult for Komi. He came from Togo, a country ruled by a dictator not known for his patience. A policeman at the door was not a good sign.

Ky glanced at Raissa.

She nodded, snatching up the abaya to disappear into the bathroom.

The man waiting inside the door was Egyptian, of medium height but solidly built, his face square, stolid, his eyes dark, still and watchful.

“Inspector Hassan?” Ky said, quietly. “My apologies, come in, please.”

The Inspector nodded. “Thank you.”

He looked at Ky as he followed him into the central part of the room, his face impassive.

“Can I get you anything, Inspector?” Ky said, “There is coffee, not American style but Turkish…?”

Slowly, the Inspector shook his head.

“You should know that there has been a complaint,” he said, “over an incident in the souk a few hours ago.”

“Were there damages?” Ky asked. “If so, although we didn’t start the fight I’ll be glad to pay for anything that was damaged.”

With a shrug, the Inspector said, “There were no damages,” as he wandered the room, looking at everything. Looking for something. “At least none that we have heard, there is only the…disturbance…and that was enough.”

Ky waited, his eyes on the Inspector. His chest tightened at the finality in the Inspector’s words, his phrasing.

There was more to it than that and he knew it, he could see it in the Inspector’s eyes.

Not that it mattered.

“You are being asked to leave…”

The words struck Ky like a blow…leave? Just when they were getting close… His heart sank.

“Leave? Why,” Ky demanded, forcing his voice to remain even. “We were the ones who were attacked. Not them.”

The Inspector’s face was impassive. “You are a provocation. No charges will be filed if you go. Quietly.”

“Charges,” Ky asked. “What charges?”

The man looked at him. “Does it matter? You would be jailed until it is settled. It will take some time to fight them.”

Jailed.

It was clear the Inspector wouldn’t be moved.

“Who can I talk to about this?”

The black eyes met his. “There is no one. I was sent to tell you what the decision was. But you may try if you like.”

“How soon?”

The Inspector looked at him. “Immediately. By noon tomorrow at the latest.”

“Noon!” Ky protested.

It was impossible. They’d have to pack up everything overnight.

Someone wanted him off the site and out of town.

Well, he knew someone he could talk to about that but he’d have to fly to Cairo to do it.

In the meantime, the site was open.

The site he’d found.

Everyone was staring, astonished and appalled.

“Tomorrow?” Komi protested. “We can’t be ready by tomorrow...”

The inspector looked at him. “Anything you don’t take with you will be confiscated.”

Raissa’s could only stand in the other room listening in shock, her throat tight. In the morning they would all be gone. It was over… She was surprised by how much the idea pained her. She wouldn’t see them again―Ryan with his wry sense of humor, tough John, sweet and gentle Komi.

Ky…

“Thank you, Inspector,” Ky said, his tone heavily laced with irony.

He had no choice.

Inclining his head politely, the Inspector left.

Letting out a breath, Ky looked around and saw Raissa’s pale face as she stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes watching him with resignation.

“You’re coming with us,” he said.

She started to speak and he waved it away.

“Pack what you need tonight,” he said, “Meet us here in the morning.”

Relief flooded her as the ache in her chest eased.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Dropping a hand on her shoulder, he looked at her steadily.

The thought of losing her, of not having her around every day…

Whether he could touch her any more than this or not, he couldn’t let her go, not yet.

“I’m sure,” he said.

Her blue eyes searched his and whatever she saw in them reassured her. He felt the muscles beneath his hands relax. She nodded.

“All right, boys and girl,” he said, with a grim smile, clapping his hands, “let’s get packing.”

It wasn’t just a turn of phrase.

Outside, the sun was low on the horizon by the time they were done. The room around them was filled with every box and storage container that John and Komi, especially Komi now, could get their hands on, every precious artifact carefully packed. There was still individual packing to do but there was little time left in the day to do that.

Raissa looked at the sun.

“It’s getting late,” she said, reluctantly, “I have to go.”

The rich amber light of late afternoon filled the suite.

Frowning a little, Ky said, “Stay here tonight. I can sleep on the couch. Whatever you need we’ll buy in Cairo.”

He’d been thinking about it while they packed.

He didn’t like the idea of her returning at this hour under these circumstances and in this atmosphere. She was vulnerable, a convenient target for the bullies. That was another reason he wanted her to go to Cairo with them, he was worried about the repercussions. She would be alone here, defenseless despite all he’d seen of her capabilities, in a place where women had no place and even less recourse.

What would happen after the whole thing was over and the Tomb was found he didn’t know, that was months if not years away, but what he did know was that for the time being he would keep her safe.

For a moment she hesitated then finally she sighed and looked at him.

Raissa shook her head. “I won’t kick you out of your bed, Professor. I can sleep on the couch.”

“You aren’t,” he said.

Folding her arms, she settled herself and looked at him, lifting an eyebrow and eyeing him.

“I’m shorter, I’ll fit the couch much better than you with those long legs.”

Ryan was watching the byplay with some amusement.

She was debating with him. Ky almost laughed. Contrary woman. The thought of her stretched out asleep on the couch when John or even Ryan returned to the rooms in the morning, though, was enough to banish the thoughts whispering through his mind.

“You’ll sleep in the bedroom,” he said, firmly. “I’ll manage.”

His stubbornness surprised her.

Then he glanced from Ryan to John, apparently casually and she understood.

She gave him a look in return, amused, a smile twitching her lips. “Well, if you insist.”

Giving her a look back, he said, smiling, “I do.”

“All right.”

She bit her lip as she gave him a considering look, before she asked almost plaintively, eyebrows lifted in entreaty, “Can I use the shower, too?”

Warm water, soap, the thought was nearly orgasmic…

Raissa sighed, her eyes fluttering at just the thought of being really and truly clean. When the function of the little room had been explained to her a part of her had thought it a profligate waste of water, while another part had longed for it with an intensity that astonished her.

She looked at Ky, Professor Farrar, half afraid that he would say no.

The thought of her in his shower, wet and naked, made Ky’s throat lock for a moment. He quickly he recovered himself and changed his expression.

Even so…

“Yes, you can use the shower,” he said, amused at her expression.

Relief and anticipation shot through her. Raissa was across the floor in a heartbeat.

She gave a quick look to Ryan even as she stopped suddenly, turned back to Ky, threw her arms around him his neck to pull his head down to hers to kiss him, quick, full and hard on the lips, every inch of her lithe and limber body plastered against him.