AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Inside the room, she flopped onto the couch, unlaced her boots, and stripped them off along with her socks. “I need a shower before I go to work.”
When Roark pulled his shirt over his head, she stared. Who wouldn’t? He was gorgeous. With his back to her, his Phoenix brand stretched from shoulder to shoulder and neck to ass, rippling as his muscles flexed.
But she dug deep to retrieve her good sense. “Stop right there. If you keep going, I’ll be compelled to let you join me. Next thing I know, the water’s cold, I’m a prune, and we’ll fuck the night away. I won’t get to the ruby until morning.”
“I don’t see the problem, Indy.” Roark’s voice stroked between her legs like soft velvet. He flicked open the snap on his pants.
“I do. You hired me to do a job.”
“Right now, I’m thinking of another job. A blow job.” He prowled toward her, his fingers teasing at his zipper. Down. Down farther. His tongue swept over his upper lip.
With the ruby in her fist, she had only one recourse. Run. She did. Yelping, she sprinted for the bathroom and locked the door, his taunting laughter pursuing her. She could handle the slam. After all, she was a big girl with a job to do.
Indigo shampooed and showered as fast as possible. She braided her damp hair, peeked out the door, and hustled toward the closet to dress. By the time she returned to the sitting room, Roark was there, clean and wearing a shirt and zipped-up pants.
Praise Gahya.
With the plush carpet under her boots, Indigo raised her arms overhead, stretched tall, bent to do a few toe touches, and eventually sat cross-legged on the floor. Comfortable in fresh shorts and a T-shirt, she placed the ruby in front of her. Before she blocked Roark from her mind, she reminded him the process could take a while.
He nodded and kicked back on the couch, his head resting on a cushion, his legs out, his eyes closed.
With a lustful sigh, Indigo returned to her task. Casting a spell over the gemstone, she waited until her mind’s eye glimpsed a map. A marked route began at Taposiris Magna, proceeded out the gate to Route 40, and wound through the streets of Alexandria.
The journey took her past the El Ghofran Mosque and a hospital, turning at an airport. Beyond a golf course and after a series of rights and lefts, it led along smaller streets, heading for the beach. More turns through neighborhoods. The vision ended.
Indigo jack-in-the-boxed off the floor, jamming the ruby into a pocket. “Let’s get to the car. I have a destination.”
Roark must have napped because he was a little slow to react. Rumpled, sleepy-eyed, and deliciously sexy, he rolled off the couch and grabbed keys from the entry table.
Once in the rental, Indigo directed him to a residence surrounded by high adobe walls. He parked on the street, escorting her toward a blue door. A hand on her back, he scanned their surroundings. A very cautious male with a strong protective streak.
Roark had warned it was possible Cerberus would send others to snatch the sword once she found it. He rang the doorbell. “No unwanted visitors. For now.”
She didn’t ask how he knew for sure, but the kinda-shifter had weird gifts. He still hadn’t explained the cloaking thing at the dig site.
A gray-haired man answered wearing a gallibaya, the long shirt typical of Egyptian clothing. Over that was a cloth-belted kaftan. On his head was a skullcap.
“Ahlan wa sahlan,” he said.
“Misa’ il khayr,” replied Roark as Indigo stared in disbelief. He spoke Arabic? How many languages did he know?
More words were exchanged. At one point, Roark gave his name and hers. The man at the door stepped aside, ushering them into the courtyard.
Within the enclosure, Indigo shuddered. The residence was a crushing weight on her witch senses, a place of great age. Generation upon generation had walked this courtyard, leaving footprints on history. Countless summers, falls, winters, and springs came and went while the family lived their lives in the many houses on the property, one older than the next, the original being constructed of mud bricks.
The visitors were escorted to a table under an Arabian-jasmine-covered pergola. Here a younger man who spoke English joined them, introducing himself as Adom Gamal and his grandfather as the head of the family. When he offered tea, Indigo accepted the mint drink sweetened with two sugars.
The four drank their tea in silence, the polite thing to do. Indigo didn’t speak until everyone’s cup was empty. Without revealing how she knew, Indigo explained they had come on an unlikely quest. “We are in search of a ruby-hilted sword which belonged to Antony and Cleopatra. We have reason to believe you possess the artifact.”
She bumped Roark’s shoulder. “Show them your ID.” He drew out his wallet and flicked a card onto the table. Indigo pulled a slip of paper out of a front pocket. With a spell cast on the items, the Gamals would see they worked for the Egyptian Ministry of Antiquities. “Of course, if you have the sword or know of its whereabouts, the government will pay you a great deal of money.”
The younger Egyptian translated. When he finished, the old man shook his head, talking quickly. Though Roark undoubtedly understood, Indigo waited for the English version.
The Gamals had lived on this site since before the time of the famous lovers, but the grandfather knew of no sword such as she described.
“Could it have been here at one time, a long time ago?” Maybe two thousand years ago? Talk about a needle in a pile of needles or was it a piece of straw in a stack of hay. Anyway, chances were bad.
Just as Indigo was about to despair, the old man smiled, a wide gap where a front tooth was missing. He had a surprise. The Gamal family maintained extensive historical records. The young translator, Adom, would aid them in their research.
