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In response, Julie reached up and removed her sunglasses, revealing her blue eyes.
"Do your worst, last queen of Egypt," Julie whispered. "Do your worst."
Difficult to discern the emotions in Cleopatra's expression now. A strange, leering smile. Almost as if she were relieved to have been spared the possibility of a physical confrontation. And there was sadness there too, sadness so deep it was sorrow. But it was the labored breath and strange stance that captured Julie's attention again.
Sick, Julie realized. My God, she is sick. Is this even possible? Can one who has absorbed the elixir actually fall ill?
She was not prepared for this, this strange sense of both kinship and pity that welled within her at the sight of another immortal struggling to stay upright and focused.
"Come," Julie said. "We'll speak privately first. And then I shall bring Ramses to you. But whatever we must do, you and I, we cannot do it in front of all these people."
Without thinking, she extended her hand, as she would to anyone elderly or ailing. Only when Cleopatra stared down at it in astonishment did Julie also realize how strange the gesture was, given their tortured history. But there was that sadness in Cleopatra's eyes. Sadness and yearning, as if the comfort offered by this hand were a cool drink of water after a long desert journey.
But she did not take Julie's hand. Instead, she turned a suspicious glare upon the grand house behind her, upon the sight of Samir staring at her from the front porch.
Again Julie pitied her. For it seemed she was imagining the embarrassment of appearing amidst all those people in her hobbled, weakened state.
"We are equals now, whether we wish to be or not," Julie said. "Whatever has brought you here, we must discuss it as such."
"Equals...," Cleopatra whispered, as if this word disgusted her. "What foolish notions this modern world draws from old Roman laws."
"Surely you did not come this far solely to disrupt this gathering. Am I mistaken in this, Cleopatra?"
"You are not. You are not mistaken."
"Very well, then," Julie said.
With one outstretched arm, she gestured to the eastern wing of the house, opposite from where the party was currently taking place. They'd round it and then proceed straight to Elliott's beloved Roman temple. It was a good distance from the western lawn and would offer them all the privacy they could ask for.
After what felt like an eternity, Cleopatra began to walk.
Julie followed. They walked silently in between an empty, manicured garden and the side of the main house, before they emerged onto the great expanse of rolling green. As they walked, Cleopatra turned her head at the distant sounds of the party, at the brief glimpse of guests standing on the western lawn before the high wall of hedge concealed the party entirely.
Impossible for Julie to read her expression.
Suspicion? Longing?
With each step, Julie had to remind herself that it was safe to be alone with this creature now. That she could not be overpowered, and if she could not be overpowered, then there was no need for her to be afraid. And every second she kept her away from Alex felt like a victory.
The temple stood atop a grassy swell in the landscape, tucked against a dense wall of oak and ash trees. Its heavy steel door stood open.
Inside, shadows and statues awaited them.
24
He would save her.
He would show her his value once again.
He would rescue her from some terrible scene in front of all these aristocrats and then she would declare him her protector and guardian and she would use him for something more than sensual release and guidance in the modern world.
She would call him dear Teddy again and they would go back to traveling the world.
Teddy was sure of this.
He was sure of this because he was drunk.
But not so drunk he couldn't scale the service gate he'd found the night before.
