The Passion of Cleopatra (Ramses the Damned 2)

Her male attire reflected impeccable taste. Black tails, her pile of curls crowned with a top hat, the delicate hands with which she held her dancing partner sheathed in white gloves.

And then there was the dancing partner himself, her new fiance. The man whose tomb her father had discovered in the hills outside of Cairo. This man had rescued her from an attempted murder at the hands of her own cousin. For he was not just a man, but an immortal who had once ruled Egypt for over sixty years, before faking his own death so that the secret of his immortality would remain hidden from his subjects, and from history itself.

Ramses the Great. Proud, handsome Ramses. Ramses the pharaoh of ancient Egypt who had shattered Samir's sense of the limits of this world in which he lived, and transformed his view of it forever.

It was an astonishing thing, Samir thought, to know the man's true, ancient identity amidst the bustle and swirl of this opulent place with its colorful murals and liveried waiters and great clouds of cigarette smoke in which the scents of dozens of perfumes mingled and became an aroma that seemed otherworldly. It was an astonishing thing to worship this man, accepting the rectitude of Ramses' immortality, accepting the superiority of Ramses' mind, accepting the power and seductive charm of this true monarch to whom Samir had pledged immediate and unquestioning loyalty.

Samir knew this was a moment he must relish and savor.

Oh, Lawrence, Samir thought. You would be so happy to see your daughter now. So happy to see that she is not just safe and protected, but electrified by immortality. More alive than she has ever been. And oh, if only you might have shared these revelations with me, that Ramses the Great lives, walks the earth, the very same king who once rode his chariot at the head of an army of chariots into battle against the Hittites. Oh, if only you could have heard the words of this man as he reflects on those long-ago centuries, answers the most complex questions about them so effortlessly....

His thoughts returned to the dancing figures before him, to the present moment.

Why did it fall upon him to shatter their happiness?

But he could wait. Another few minutes at least.

And so, along with the crowd, he watched them dance. He marveled at the immortal strength that allowed them to swirl and turn without pausing for breath, even as the dancers around them seemed to tire. The same strength that allowed each of them to dance without once looking away from the adoring gaze of the other.

Did any of their onlookers notice that their eyes were an almost identical shade of blue? Perhaps. Or perhaps they were too distracted by the spectacle of the dance itself.

Ramses saw him the minute the dance concluded. So did Julie. They moved towards him through the crowded tables, offering smiles to diners still applauding their performance.

They were not surprised to see him. He had planned to meet them in Paris, but he had not planned to bring with him such frightening news.

"Samir, my friend," Ramses said, clapping him on the back, "you shall join us at our table at once. We have made new friends here and we shall be happy for you to join them."

"I'm afraid not, sire," Samir answered.

Mustn't go into details in this crowded place. He handed Ramses the telegram.

"I'm afraid she's been found," Samir said.

Ramses read. Julie stiffened next to him.

"In Alexandria," Ramses said, his mood darkening.

"Yes."

He handed the cable to Julie, whose expression had become an icy mask. No surprise there, Samir thought. Before becoming an immortal, Julie had almost died at Cleopatra's hands.

"I see," Julie said softly, with a faint smile. "Well, perhaps we should look at it this way: now we know we too are capable of surviving great fire." Her face went white and she swallowed, her lips trembling.

Ramses curved an arm around his fiancee's waist and steered her towards the bar.

"Come," Ramses said. "Let's all return to the hotel at once and discuss the implications of this."

*

This lavish suite at the Ritz, with its soaring, draperied windows looking out onto the Place Vendome, had been their home for a week now--their last stop on the Continent before the return to London. Ramses loved it, as surely as he'd loved all of the grand hotels in which they'd lodged, dined, made love.

The staff had been faithful in delivering great heaping platters of pastry and quiche at all hours, along with buckets of champagne, just as they had requested.

Ramses, seated at the dining table, read the cable again, as if the brief message might reveal some hidden clue upon subsequent examination.

WOMAN YOU SEEK IN ALEXANDRIA STOP MALE COMPANION SHE CALLS TEDDY UNKNOWN STOP BOTH ARRIVED FROM CAIRO ON MORNING TRAIN STOP ADVISE IF YOU WANT FURTHER ACTION

He would do better to question Samir than to focus on these terse strings of words. He wanted more champagne. It was Samir who lifted the bottle from the bucket of ice and filled the crystal glass for him. Samir then sat back puffing on his small dark cheroot. Julie too enjoyed one of these little "smokes." And indeed the smoke to Ramses was like perfume. Long centuries ago, tobacco had been very rare in his kingdom, coming from unnamed lands far across the sea. Just one of the many luxuries he'd known as a king.