"I've never been wrong before," he said. "Never."
"Then this will be your first time," she replied, touching his face. "Or you'll realize you misinterpreted what you saw. I'm right, Mencheres. I know it with my whole soul. Just like I know you love me, even if you're having trouble saying it."
For several moments, he could only stare at her, caught in her light green gaze as if he were a human ensnared by the mesmerizing glow of a vampire. Something freed inside him, a pressure released that he didn't know had been building, and the relief he felt was only matched by the certainty flowing through him that she was right - about part of what she said.
"I do love you," he said hoarsely, the words not an adequate representation of what he felt for Kira. She was everything that had been missing from his life, everything that made him want to stay in this harsh, unforgiving world that was somehow beautiful once more because of her.
She smiled, amazing him with the joy such a small gesture could generate inside him.
"You see? I told you I was right."
"That does not mean - "
"Shush," she replied, putting her finger to his lips. He couldn't help but feel amusement slither through him. No one had shushed him in thousands of years, yet Kira did it without the slightest hesitation.
"I don't want you looking into the future again," she went on. "Not yet. You're a superpowerful vampire, but you're not a god. Until you work through the things that led you to feel like you'd rather be dead, all of them, you can't trust what you think you're seeing."
He still didn't think Kira was right about self-fulfilling prophecies, survivor's guilt, or misinterpretation when it came to his vision of impending death, but he was willing to heed her counsel. After all, his visions did come to an abrupt halt only after Patra's death.
He might be far stronger than Kira on a power level, but emotionally, she stood on firmer ground. The events in the past few years had proven too much for him. He'd sought his own death - something he swore he'd never do after the pain of discovering Tenoch's suicide, yet he'd almost followed in his sire's footsteps. Only the beautiful, incredible woman in front of him prevented that when her path crossed with his that morning.
Fate. Was it possible his might not be only darkness after all?
"Tell me again what your mentor's credo was?" he asked, though he remembered her answer from before.
"Save one life," Kira said softly.
Mencheres drew her into his arms. "You did," he whispered before his mouth claimed hers. "You saved mine."
Kira slid a lazy hand along his back, her touch rousing him despite the past several passionate hours.
"This is such an interesting tattoo. What is it?"
" A shenu, " he replied, rolling over on his side to face her. "The modern word is a cartouche."
She still traced the tattoo even though she wouldn't be able to see it anymore. "What does it say?"
"It is my birth name, Menkaure, in ancient Egyptian writing."
Her face clouded. "That's what Radje calls you."
He stroked her from her bare leg up to her lower back, and her expression eased once more.
"Were you named after that Pharaoh?" she asked.
His hand stilled. "What do you know of that Pharaoh?"
"When I was looking for you after you mesmerized my boss, I Googled 'Mencheres,'
thinking it might lead me to you on the off chance that you had a Facebook page or something." Kira paused to chuckle. "You didn't, of course. All that came up under your name were links and articles about a Pharaoh way back when who was also called Mencheres, but he went by Menkaure most of the time." She gave him a curious glance.
"Were you a descendant of his? Is that why you took one of his names?" He uncurled himself from the bed, standing before her. It was time she learned all about him, even the oldest parts of his past.
"Menkaure had many names depending on the translation. Mycerinus, Mykerinus, and Mencheres, among others. I received this tattoo on the first day of my appointed reign when I was twenty-two years old, just six months before I became a vampire. I am not one of that Pharaoh's descendents you read about. I am that Pharaoh. I merely used the name Mencheres after I left Egypt."
Kira's mouth opened and closed, as if she had suddenly forgotten how to speak. He waited. After everything else she'd been through, he did not fear this revelation would prove too much for her.
"But that Pharaoh was from way, way, way back in ancient times. He has a pyramid in the Giza Plateau. That can't be you! You said you were older than dirt, but - "
"I was born in 2553 B.C.," he replied, watching her expression flit from denial to confusion to amazement. "I told you Radje and I came from a line of rulers who appointed a set frame for their heirs to reign over their human subjects. That was the line of Pharaohs from the first dynasty through the thirteenth. Radje and I were in the Fourth Dynasty. Radje is short for Radjedef, as you know, but Radjedef was more commonly known as Djedefre in Egyptian history. He was the half brother of Khafre, my father. My father and Radjedef were the sons of Khufu, the Pharaoh who built the Great Pyramid in Egypt."
Kira still did not look like she'd adequately absorbed this information. "Radje is your uncle? And you and your family made the pyramids? The pyramids? " He shrugged. "They were designed for the retired Pharaohs to live in comfort among their people, presumed dead while a new Pharaoh reigned. But they were too costly. Our later heirs made the Vall ey of the Kings as a more efficient solution. All the underground passages and connecting tunnels - "
"You realize this is a little much to take in," she interrupted, shaking her head.
Mencheres raised a brow. "A month ago, you did not believe in vampires. Now you are one yourself, plus lover to another, and you're in the hidden mountain home of fiction's most famous vampire. I have every confidence that you will handle this latest revelation with minimal difficulty."
She still shook her head, but the disbelief left her expression. "Older than dirt," she muttered. "Who knew you were under exaggerating?"
He went to the foot of the bed, slowly crawling back on while sliding his body over Kira's from her feet up to her chest. When their faces were level, he stopped, letting his aura as well as his skin caress hers.
"Do I feel too ancient to you now?" he murmured. "Too different from the person you loved before you knew this?"
Her eyes were already glowing green, and her full lips parted. "No, you don't feel too ancient." Her voice was husky. "Or too different. You feel like mine. Whoever you were, whoever you are . . . you're mine."