Crescent Moon Read online

  “I doubt she would want to make a huge scene here. Too messy, and she wouldn’t want more police showing up.” His expression impassive, Haddara scanned the room. “While she’s the least subtle woman I know, she does have some discretion.”

  “She wants me to follow her,” Khepri said. “To catch me alone.”

  Juste’s body tensed. “Not happenin’.”

  Khepri smiled. “I’m not eager to meet her. And I do appreciate the support.”

  “Any inkling where she might go?” He watched her face.

  Khepri drew in a deep breath and leaned away from his embrace. “How many people are guarding the warehouse area?”

  “It is out of the public eye. Only a handful of men to watch over it.”

  “As good a place as any to begin our search. It’s where it all began, isn’t it?”

  Khepri led the way through the galleries. Her gaze scanned the museum patrons and the proctors describing the artifacts. The displays were lovingly assembled, but sad just the same. She could imagine, in her mind’s eye, each ancient artifact as it had appeared in her time. From everyday utensils—bowls, beakers, jewelry—to ornate fragments of sarcophagi and ushabti, they represented the life she’d known, the friends who now were no more than dust. With all her heart, she hoped they had all been spared an eternity of pain following their judgment but was glad she didn’t remember each instance. Better to believe they’d passed into Horus’s fields of peace, awaiting their reawakening in some other realm or here again on Earth.

  And while the artifacts filled her with bittersweet nostalgia, she was happy to have arrived in this present time, to have known Justin, and to be a part of saving his world from terrible turmoil. Justin might not recognize how fortunate he was, but he was blessed with true friends. Although he had only recently entered Justin’s life, Michael was a friend, someone with his best interests as a priority. Someone he could trust if only Justin would let him inside his heart.

  Then there was Denise, his dead friend’s wife. She provided the needed connection to “family” that Justin unknowingly craved. Although she hadn’t met Denise’s children, she had witnessed the quiet joy that had mitigated the horror of the woman’s husband’s passing. If Justin would only let go of his pain to see the evidence of his friend still living on inside his children, he wouldn’t feel so alone. That was the rhythm of life—to know joy and pain, and to set your children on their paths. Another thing she could not let herself regret.

  They entered the corridor leading to the warehouse area. The polished floor shone in the light from ugly, elongated fixtures on the ceiling that produced an incessant buzzing like distant swarms of insects.

  Approaching the door, Khepri slowed her steps, touching her ankh for comfort before reaching for the knob.

  “Let me enter first,” Justin said, stretching past her and opening the door. He stepped into the cargo area first, but the stiffening of his body telegraphed his unease. “Somethin’s up,” he said, and slipped his hand beneath his jacket for his weapon. “Stay behind me.”

  At least he hadn’t insisted that she remain in the hallway. He likely knew she’d disobey. Khepri kept close to Justin and climbed down the steps onto the hard concrete floor. To the right, she noted the supine body of a uniformed police officer. Blood pooled beneath his head, but his chest still rose in shallow swells.

  They continued, passing the tables that had been set up during the inventory of the artifacts, past the pictures strewn over the surface of one, of her and Pharaoh’s mummified bodies. A chill shivered down her spine, but she rubbed her hands, warming them with sparks of fire, readying herself should she need to protect Justin and herself.

  Behind her, she heard Haddara’s tread, and the door whooshed open again. Khepri glanced back to find Michael entering, crouching low, and followed by several of Mr. Haddara’s black-clad security team, and then Forrester, looking red-faced as though he’d come running to be there. They all fanned out around the perimeter of the staging area, Michael kneeling beside the injured man before speaking into his handheld communicating device to call for aid for the man.

  Justin gave a faint whistle and raised his hand, pointing two fingers toward his eyes, then directing men with quick gestures to search down rows of shelving. Justin moved forward, toward the area where she’d been left, and toward the rear door where she’d made her escape that first day.

  As they passed the end of one row of shelves, the lights went out. Justin straightened. A click sounded, and he held a small light beam in his hand.

  She held up her palm, where a balled flame rested.

  He quirked an eyebrow but moved forward, clearing the row.

  A scrape sounded to the left, and Khepri gasped as something came down in a blur, hitting Justin squarely across the back of his shoulders. She tossed the flame to the floor, where it sputtered out. He went down to his knees, his handheld light spinning away, shadows deepening around them. Before the person wielding the board could strike again, Khepri spun and kicked high with her foot, catching the assailant’s wrist. Khepri lunged forward and rapped the person’s ribs with quick jabs of her curled fingers.

  A wheeze preceded the dropping of the board, and the assailant turned to flee, but Khepri leapt, slamming into the back of the Justin’s attacker.

  They fell together. Khepri scrambled back to put distance between herself and her foe, flinging flame to the floor in order to see.

  What she found was Becky Ward, Dr. Felton’s graduate assistant, cupping her wrist and giving her a frightful scowl, but otherwise slumping to the ground.

  “Why did you attack us?” Khepri asked, aware of Justin stirring nearby.

  “To delay you.”

  “To delay us from what?”

  Becky smiled; her eyes narrowed to slits. “I wouldn’t want to spoil his surprise.”

  “His surprise?”

  “The nameless one,” Becky said, licking her lips. “The one who is my master.”

  A trickle of dread ran down Khepri’s spine—at the blonde’s eerily triumphant expression, at the mention of Pharaoh. “Who is your master?”

  Becky shook her head and tsked. “We found him first. Charles and I. Dr. Felton was too busy drawing maps of the cave, wanting to be methodical in his inspection. We snuck away, to the chamber where you were both left. He was buried in sand, and Charles tripped over him. When we brushed away the sand with our hands, we both were so excited. We’d found something, all on our own. When we showed Dr. Felton, he was furious. We’d disturbed it. Moved it, he said. He was going to have us sent home.”

  “But you are still part of his team.”

  “Yes, we are,” she said and smiled. “You see, we didn’t stop at brushing away the dirt. Yes, we knew we risked damaging the body and releasing harmful bacteria, but something drove us to cut away his wrappings…”

  Blood pounded in her ears. And suddenly, Khepri knew now who they were searching for. “You heard?” she said over her shoulder.

  Justin cursed under his breath. “Over here!” he shouted.

  Michael came running, weapon drawn. His gaze went from Justin, kneeling on the ground, rubbing the back of his neck, to Khepri, who rolled another ball of fire onto her palm to provide light.

  “She’s with Pharaoh. So is Charles Mabry. Dr. Felton is the one we are looking for.”

  Michael stepped away and spoke into his device. “They left in Felton’s rental car—him and the Massri woman. No Mabry.”

  Khepri’s gaze went back to Becky. “Where are they going?”

  “To the place in between. You know it well.”

  “Where is Charles?”

  “She was hungry.” Becky lifted a shoulder. “He was more than willing. They took the other two cops with them. They were also…eager to go.”

  Justin pushed off the floor to stand and curled his fingers, gesturing Becky up. “Come on. You’re under arrest for assaultin’ a police officer.”

  Becky only smiled, her expr
ession serene. “Doesn’t matter. You won’t stop him. He has a goddess at his beck and call. And he has only to ask you to look into his eyes, and you are his. I’ll be free by morning.”

  “Like hell,” Justin growled, reaching down to grab her arm and pull her upright. He pushed her toward Michael. “Have a uniform take her in for bookin’.”

  “Where are we headin’?” Michael said, his glance slipping to Khepri.

  Justin also glanced at Khepri, who dropped her gaze to the gash in the side of her dress that exposed the length of her thigh. She hadn’t realized she’d torn her clothing in the scuffle. She dropped her hand. What did it matter if she wasn’t dressed appropriately for the coming battle? “They want a confrontation, but one that is in a controlled environment. There were too many factions at play at the party. This is private. They have retreated to a place where only I can go.”

  Justin’s fists curled at his sides. “Leave them there. Let them come lookin’ again. We’ll be ready.”

  Khepri shook her head and jutted her chin. “This I must do alone.”

  Mr. Haddara cleared his throat, his gaze intent on her face. “There might be a way to take some ‘backup,’ as they say here.”

  Both Khepri and Justin turned to Mr. Haddara. Something in the older man’s eyes dislodged a memory. Of her seated at his feet, of him giving her a wink, no true merriment in his expression, but a signal. Don’t let her see your fear.

  Khepri swayed, but caught herself before her knees weakened. “I suppose if anyone knows a way to open the gate of my purgatory, it is you, husband.”

  Episode Eight

  Part VIII – Final Judgment

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Khepri sat, her back straight, as the sheik’s limo careened through the lamplit streets of New Orleans, heading west toward City Park. Justin sat beside her. Mr. Haddara and Michael occupied the opposite bench. Her back was tense, her stomach in knots. She hoped she’d guessed correctly about where Ammit and the resurrected pharaoh, Dr. Felton, had headed, but since her husband hadn’t bothered correcting her instruction to her driver, she assumed she was heading in the right direction.

  The car was silent other than the rustle of her own linen gown as she drew deep, cleansing breaths. Anger vibrated through her. Anger she needed to release because it would serve no purpose in the confrontation to come. Amun had been near all along, playing with her. Giving her gentle nudges and encouragement, but failing to give her the one thing she’d always craved. Even now, he sat like a stranger across from her, and even though she had only shards of memory of her time in the Duat, she knew this was how he always was with her. Near, but aloof. Resentment caused her eyes to burn.

  Amun’s glance flicked from the window to her. “You are angry with me.”

  She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Why mention it? My anger means nothing to you.”

  His dark eyes softened. “That isn’t true. I care, Khepri. Very much.”

  “Not enough to tell me who you were. Not enough to let me keep my memories.”

  “I guard the secrets of the Duat. You are human, living among humans now.”

  “I was your wife.”

  “Was?” His mouth curved up at one side. His eyes narrowed. “You are everything I knew you would become. Fierce, intelligent, moved to great empathy…” His gaze strayed for a moment to Justin. “Loving.”

  She snorted. “I don’t need you to list the qualities I possess, Amun, Mr. Haddara, whatever you would have me call you.”

  His lips crimped. “Husband, for just a little while longer…please.”

  His tone, soft with a hint of yearning, maybe a plea, struck her. Tears welled in her eyes. “This is a game to you. I am a game piece to be moved around as you wish. You only care whether you win.”

  He reached across the space separating them and lifted her hand, carefully setting it atop his palm. His heat transferred to her cold skin. “I do not see this as a game, little warrior.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that,” she said, her voice hoarse. “The vizier called me that.”

  “We all called you that, from the moment Nephthys found you and brought you to the temple. I am the one who moved her to pluck you from your family. I saw what you would become, and showed her, during her soul-flights, what your future held.”

  “You confided in her, gave her so much more than you gave to me,” she said, bitterness creeping into her voice as she wiped her tears with the back of her other hand. “I could have been prepared.”

  “You are prepared. Your spirit is strong and wild and free. A monster will not sway or cow you.”

  Khepri’s shoulders fell, and she slid her fingers around his hand to hold it. Just as she’d wanted to so long ago. “This, just this, is what I needed most.”

  “And you have had that experience with someone who loves you every bit as much as you love him,” he whispered, giving her a sad smile. “That was a gift, Khepri.”

  Justin shifted beside her; his arm settled across her shoulders, his large hand cupping her. He gave her a squeeze. “We can walk away, baby. Amun, here, can’t stop you. You don’t owe him a damn thing.”

  What Justin suggested was shocking. A course she’d never allowed herself to consider, but for a moment she did, imagining living a life with him, sharing simple joys. He’d be a loving husband and father, a friend she could share her thoughts with. They could grow old together, clinging to each other…a lovely thought, one that caused regret to well up, nearly choking her. She shook her head. “Don’t speak. Please. I can’t. You know that.”

  “Baby, it’s not ‘can’t’—you won’t.” He let out a huge sigh. “Thought I’d say it. Just so you know the offer’s there.”

  She glanced up to meet his searching gaze. “I have to be strong. Hesitation could mean failure.”

  “And I don’t want to be a distraction.” There was a note of bitterness in his voice.

  “I can’t allow myself to consider what you risk. I could lose you.” Panic tightened her chest, and she dragged in deep breaths through her nose, staring out the window, willing her heart to settle into a slower rhythm. But how could she shut off the swelling of fear she felt—not for herself, she was resigned to her fate—but for him? Justin was everything she’d ever dreamed of having, a strong, deeply moral man. A passionate man.

  When she had herself under control, she edged forward from beneath Justin’s arm and slid a few inches away. Angling her body to take them all in with one glance, she aimed her stare at her husband. “You said there might be a way to take backup into the place where they wait.”

  “A spell. One you must cast.”

  Khepri shook her head. “What incantation? I’ve read the texts; they never mention this place in between, much less an incantation.”

  “It will be your words, your spell. Entirely your magic.”

  She shook her head. “I can create fire from the air and throw up a barrier with a thin bag, but I am comfortable with the first, and the latter…the bag…I did not think. It just happened. No spell. No planning. I do not possess the kind of magic you—”

  “Hush.” Her husband tapped her forehead. “The naos is not a conduit, siphoning power from me to enable oracles. The naos only amplifies power for those who are weak or whose gifts are developing. You needed the naos only for focus. You communicated with me without its power. Every time you prayed or thought about me, I heard. The incident with the plastic bag—there is your proof that you can do so much more. Alone.” He sat back. “Don’t be stubborn. Accept that you are gifted, with powers that were born inside you, not given to you or lent.”

  The nearer they got to the park, the more her stomach knotted. Their vehicle slowed; she glanced over her shoulder, through the glass separating their compartment from the driver’s. Lights swinging from wires above the intersection changed from red to green. They pulled forward again and she turned back, blowing out a breath that billowed her cheeks. “Am I panicking?” she asked, h
er gaze going to her husband.

  “A little.” His smile was impish. His eyes were dark.

  He understood her fear, read her thoughts, knew her better than anyone because he’d known her forever.

  “I have prepared for this moment for most of my life,” she said, more of a reminder to herself than to him.

  He nodded. “You have.”

  Khepri swallowed, wishing she could be still, but her heart and her mind raced ahead. “You wouldn’t believe in me, wouldn’t be here, if you did not believe I can prevail.”

  Again, he nodded.

  She closed her eyes for a second and drew another calming breath, centering her thoughts and remembering the lessons she’d learned from the wizened man from the East who had taught her mastery over her body as well as how to fight. Then she leveled a calm gaze upon Mr. Haddara, her dear, calm Amun. “The only thing that can defeat me is myself,” she whispered.

  His smile was broad, mirroring the pride shining in his eyes.

  “This is my battle,” she said, feeling strength reenter her body. “I can bring along whomever I want. The people I need.”

  Justin shifted on his seat. “I’m in. Don’t even think about leavin’ me behind.”

  Although she wanted more than anything to keep him safe, she nodded.

  Michael lifted his hand. “Him and me are partners too. You can’t leave me out.”

  Again, she nodded.

  Haddara glanced at the other two men, nodding his approval before turning her way again. “There are others of my security team who are converging on the park.”

  “I will open the door into that place, but they have to swim.”

  Michael wrinkled his nose. “That croc gone?”

  She grinned, feeling the last of her crippling fear melt away. “If he is there, he will not interfere.” This she knew because she knew instinctively that Sobek would be as curious as any to await the outcome.