“If everyone is ready, we can proceed to the next room,” the tour guide announced.
I slid the eerie smiling photo into my guidebook and quickly pocketed the rest of them, nearly tripping on my long burqa as I rushed to join the group.
The tour guide cleared her throat. “Akhenaten was the most hated pharaoh in all of Egypt. He took the happily polytheistic society and tried to convert everyone to the religion of the one god, the Aten, who was symbolized by the sun.”
The docent launched into a long, droned spiel about Akhenaten’s reign in the New Kingdom. It was amazing how one person could make an interesting subject so damn dull. Restless and bored with her presentation, I flipped through my guidebook, looking for objects of interest. I wanted to get away from the New Kingdom stuff and head to the second floor, where the Old Kingdom artifacts were kept.
I looped around the tour group to the back of the room, browsing through the artifacts. The sun was due to set soon, and I was anxious to get back to the hotel. Just the thought of Zane sleeping in my bed made my breath catch, and I fanned myself with the guidebook. Idly, I paused near a broken, wigless bust and glanced down at the plaquard. Nefertiti. I’d never been a big fan of hers; she looked cold and arrogant in all of the sculptures and paintings I’d seen, and this one was certainly no different. The beautifully sculpted lips were curved at the edges in a thin, almost bitter smile.
I paused. I’d seen that look somewhere before. Crouching low, I circled the glass case and peered at the bust from all angles. Where had I seen that regal, go-to-Hell look before?
“… built a temple to the one god, the Aten,” the docent droned.
Something clicked in my mind.
I whipped out the photo tucked into my guidebook and stared at the picture. On a hunch, I headed to the back of the exhibit, looking for tomb paintings from the Amarna period. Sure enough, there was one along the wall, and I held up the photo next to a picture of the Akhenaten’s queen.
Hands upraised, she appeared to be supplicating, a thick black cloak covering the shoulders of her followers.
Wings.
“Of course,” I muttered to myself, as I made my way out of the crowded museum. “The first church wasn’t a church to God at all, but Nitocris’s worming her way back into Egyptian history.”
This certainly threw a kink into things. I raced out of the building and headed for the nearest taxi, burqa flying.
I needed to talk to Zane.
“It’s Amarna!” I entered into my hotel room with a triumphant smile, a stack of travel brochures clutched in my free hand, burqa tucked under my arm. “I figured it out.”
Zane sat up in my bed and rubbed his face with his good hand, his hair tousled and falling over his forehead. His bad hand looked nearly healed, the skin merely reddened now. He gave me a sleepy look, a hint of red peeping out from heavy-lidded eyes. “Evening, Jackie. You’re in a good mood.”
His voice caused me to come to a screeching halt. My muscles seized up at the sight of him looking so sexy in my bed, and I had difficulty breathing. The air around me became heavy and uncomfortable, and I moved as if in a fog. “Zane,” I breathed, my voice taking on a seductive timbre that caused his eyes to flick bright red with interest.
“Itch bothering you much?” He kept his voice light, though his eyes blazed red, betraying his interest. I could see the gleam of fangs against his lips.
“Not at all,” I lied, slinking over to the bed and staring down at him. Blood pounded in my ears. “I’m not sleeping with you.” My hands trembled from the sheer force of my body’s response to his proximity. It was taking all my effort just to remain upright.
Zane stood and came to my side. He took the brochures from my clenched hand and tossed the burqa into a nearby chair. “You’re torturing yourself over nothing, Jackie. Don’t you realize that?” His hand went to my shoulders and he began to knead the tense flesh at the base of my neck.
Weak at his touch, I sat on the bed, my head rolling forward to allow him free access. “Sex is not ‘nothing’ to me. And I don’t like being forced into doing anything.”
“Don’t do it because you have to, then. Do it because you want to.” His fingers trailed over the sensitive flesh of my neck, and I nearly came unglued at the gentle touch. “I like you; you like me. What’s wrong with sating our mutual urges?”
“Everything. It’s all messed up.”
His hand slid away from my neck. “Do you want me to find you someone to take care of your needs? I guarantee any sane man would be willing.” His voice was solicitous, neutral.
I pulled my legs up and hugged them against my chest, feeling miserable at the desire that raged through my body. “I don’t want a stranger.”
“Noah, then?” His voice was decidedly cold.
I glanced over at Zane in surprise and saw anger in his eyes. He was jealous of Noah? The thought was baffling.
Zane abruptly turned. I watched the sweep of his wings as he walked away, graceful and beautiful, so at odds with my conceptions of vampires. He picked up his trench coat and shrugged it onto his back, covering his wings and heading for the door.
“Wait,” I said, getting up and following him. “What’s wrong with you?”
He opened the door, ignoring me.
I grabbed it and slammed it shut before he could leave. “What’s eating you? I’m the one with the compulsion.”
Zane’s red glare met my blue one. “Do you think I don’t care about your feelings?”
I hadn’t given it much thought, to be honest. He was one of the bad guys, right? “I didn’t …”
“Didn’t what?”
In agony at this point, I just grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “I’m tired of all this crap.” My mouth planted on top of his, and flashes of light sparked in my brain.
Oh yes. This was nice. His mouth moved under mine, tasting my lips, his tongue touching my own.
Then he pulled away from me, prying my hands off him. “No, Jackie.”
“What?” I tried to wrap my hands in his hair.
He shook his head. “I don’t want this.”
I fell back a little, staring up at him in confusion. “Your eyes are red and you kissed me back. How can you say that you don’t want this?”
“I want you willing, Jackie. I don’t want it to just be the product of the Itch. I want you to be with me because you”-he touched my breastbone and gave me a soft smile-“want to be with me. Not because you feel compelled to sate an urge with the closest man around.”
The man was impossible. Frustrated, I clenched my fists. “I don’t know what I feel anymore, okay? None of this is my choosing. Do you think I really want to be stuck in a hotel room in Egypt, hoping that I can steal some halo back from an archaeological site before the Queen of Vampires kills a fallen angel? Because you know, it’s really not high on my list of things to do before I die.”
I jerked away from him and gave him a bitter smile. “Oh, that’s right. I can’t die, can I? I’m stuck like this forever. So pardon me for trying to make a go of things. I sucked at relationships in my normal life. I’m not surprised that they’re not any easier now.”