The Mummy (Ramses the Damned 1)

He had helped her with her fine dress of green satin. He laid it over the chair; and when the lights went out, she saw the city through the pale curtains. She saw the river.

"The Nile," she whispered. She wanted to say how beautiful, this gleaming strip of water winding through the built-up city; but a shadow fell over her soul. An image came to her like all the rest; descending complete and entire and then vanishing; only this one had been so quick. A catacomb, a priest walking before her.

"What is it, Your Highness?"

She lifted her head slowly. She'd moaned; that's what had frightened him.

"You're so tender with me, young Lord Summerfield," she said. Where was the inevitable unkindness in this boy? The inevitable need to hurt which all men evinced sooner or later?

She looked up and saw that he was now naked as well, and the sight of his strong, youthful body pleased her intensely. She placed her hand on his flat belly, and then gently on his chest. It was always the hardness of men all over that excited her; even the hardness of their mouths, that they tensed their mouths when they kissed; she liked even to feel their teeth behind their lips.

She kissed him roughly and pressed her breasts against him. He could hardly control himself; he wanted to carry her to the bed; he tried to be gentle.

"Such an unearthly thing," he whispered. "Wherever did you come from?"

"From darkness and coldness. Kiss me. I am only warm again when I'm kissed. Make a fire, Lord Summerfield, to burn both of us."

She went back against the pillows, tugging him down on top of her. Her hand plunged, grasped his sex and stroked it, pinching the tip. When he moaned, she opened his lips with her own, licking at his tongue and his teeth.

"Now," she said. "Into me. The second time is for the slow song."

Julie's suite. Samir set the newspapers down on the table. Julie drank a second cup of the sweet Egyptian coffee.

"You mustn't leave me tonight, Samir. Not till we hear from him," she said. She stood up. "I'm going to change into my robe. Promise me you won't leave me."

"I'll be here, Julie," he said, "but perhaps you should sleep. I'll wake you as soon as I hear anything."

"No, I can't do that. I want only to get out of these tired clothes. I won't be but a minute."

Sh

e went into the bedroom. She had sent Rita off an hour ago to her own room, and thank God for that; she wanted only to be with Samir. Her nerves were worn thin. She knew Elliott was in the hotel, but she could not bring herself to ring him. She did not want to see him or talk to him. Not until she knew what Ramses had done, and she could not break the feeling of foreboding.

Slowly she took the pins out of her hair, gazing absently in the mirror. For a moment, she noticed nothing amiss, and then suddenly she realized that a tall Arab in white robes was standing in the corner of the room, still as the shadows, merely watching her. Her Arab, Ramses.

She spun around, her hair tumbling down all at once over her shoulders. Her heart was about to burst.

She might have fainted again for the second time in her life, if he hadn't caught her. Then she saw the deep bloodstain on his robe and again she felt weak; blackness rising all around her.

Silently he embraced her, pressing her to himself.

"My Julie," he said, his voice heartbroken.

"How long have you been here?"

"Only a little while," he said. "Let me be silent now; let me hold you."

"Where is she?"

He let her go, backing off. "I don't know," he said in a defeated voice. "I have lost her."

Julie watched him as he paced, turned and looked at her from a distance. She was keenly aware that she loved him, and would go on loving him no matter what had happened. But she could not say such a thing to him, not until she knew....

"Let me call Samir," she said. "He's there, in the sitting room."

"I want to be alone with you for a moment," he said. And for the first time, he appeared just slightly afraid of her. It was a subtle thing, but she felt it.

"You must tell me what's happened."