Saffron (9 page)

She reclined in the leather seat of the first class cabin. Saffron Eshe, better known as Qetesh, closed her eyes against the pain that radiated inside her heart and soul. He’d lied. After Kenric had seen what she could do, he avoided her only to follow for a confrontation later on.

Was that really how it went?
her brain questioned.

She sniffed indignantly and opened her eyes to find the bottle of vodka sitting on her tray. She poured it into the cup of grapefruit juice, stirred it, and downed the Greyhound.
Now he has me questioning how it went.

Lolling her head to the left, she stared out of the window at the passing brilliant blue sky. When she’d gone back to the camp, she’d expected to find him in their room. But Kenric hadn’t been there. So she’d done something no other human had got her to do—she went looking for him. Her hurt had lessened a bit when she’d found him pulling guard duty. A bit—not fully.

What was I expecting? Him to drop to his knees and beg me to stay?
Okay, so maybe she had been. She didn’t like the anger, though.

Do you know why he was mad?
her subconscious questioned.

The logical part of her brain said it was because she’d not told him sooner who she was. The arrogant goddess part said it was because he couldn’t accept her as she was. An immortal. A goddess. His superior.

She snorted and rolled her eyes.
Some superior I am
—
all it took was a touch from him, and I damn near forgot everything but the feel of his skin on mine.

When the plane landed in Cairo, Egypt, she got off and walked outside, her sole bag slung over her shoulder. She meandered along, no set destination in mind, peering at the stalls that lined the streets and picking up a trinket here and there.

Eventually, she turned down a narrow street and just vanished. When she reappeared, she was out in the wilds of Egypt, no people around, just sand. A smile filled her face as she sank her toes into the warm sand. Her wounded heart began to heal.

This was home. She tipped her head back and absorbed the sun’s powerful rays. Readjusting the strap of her bag, she set off across the sand. She made her way to the Qattara Depression and walked, unseen to the mortal eye, across its sandy region. There were marshes and salt lakes, which made it impassable for vehicles, but for her there was no problem. Every now and again she’d stop when she sensed a disturbance within the earth, only to press on.

There was no set course she walked and soon she was again in the desert heading towards Luxor, in a roundabout way
.
She paused when she hit the Nile. Night had fallen and, as she stood on the river bank, she stared out over the water. The moonlight glinted off the top of the river and made her long for the days when the humans hadn’t taken so much of the earth for granted, and still held respect for it and her power.

She bent down and touched the water, her lip curling in disgust as the faint traces of pollution could be felt. Humans had no respect. She sent out a cleansing pulse until the water again ran clean and pure.

A large barge appeared before her eyes, complete with the numerous men to row it. Reclining upon it was Hathor—a fellow goddess—who stared at her with large, unblinking eyes. She was dressed in silks that had gold threads running through them. Her dark skin shone in the moonlight and her eyes were a soft, dark brown.

“Come join me, Qetesh.” A flick of a gold-adorned hand. “We will sail up the Nile as the pharaohs used to do. You are heading to Luxor, are you not?”

Aware no human could see them, she nodded and took the outstretched hand of the mostly naked attendant. His strong grip held her securely until she was on-board, whereupon he released her immediately.

“Sit.” The command was given, despite the voice being soft and teasing.

Lowering herself to the plush pillows, Saffron bit back a groan of pleasure as the luxury surrounded her. She basked in the comfort.

“Eat, eat.”

She stared at the fruits, cheeses and meats lying on gilded platters. With a smile, she reached for the grapes and bit into one. Sweet, succulent, juicy.

“Thank you,” she said.

Hathor smiled and gestured for the rowers to get to work. Soon the barge shot along the water, propelled by the powerful strokes of the muscular men handling the oars. She reclined and let the cool breeze flow over her while she ate and drank.

After a while, Hathor shifted and faced her. The moonlight reflected off her gold and jewels. “Now, we will talk.”

Saffron blinked but didn’t say a word. She ate another piece of cheese and followed it with a grape. The rich, honeyed mead that she drank made her remember days long past. She dragged her tongue along her lower lip to get all she could of it.

“You seem to have forgotten who you are.”

She lifted her gaze to Hathor, who stared at her. “I’m sorry? I’ve not forgotten who I am.”

“You have. You focus on one and forget the others.”

Saffron narrowed her eyes. “Explain yourself.”

“What happened to the love and beauty? You are so focused on nature you neglect the others.”

“No, I’ve not forgotten. I also remember being equated with sacred ecstasy and sexual pleasure, which I believe led my name to become associated with yours.”

Flames flickered in her hostess’s eyes.

She gave a mocking smile. It had long been a point of contention between the women. “See, I haven’t forgotten but I no longer have use for humans. So I focus on nature, which I love, and the earth will be beautiful for it.”

“And this Kenric Annson?”

“How do you know about him?” she growled, feeling her power begin to flare.

“Calm yourself, Qetesh.”

Calm down? How the hell was she supposed to calm down when this gorgeous woman was asking her about the man she loved. Her man.

“How do you know about him?”

“You’ve not been hiding your thoughts well. I hear his name in your head.”

“Stay out of my head then. My thoughts are just that—mine!”

“You sure are defensive about a human you are trying to convince yourself wronged you.”

Defensive didn’t even begin to cover it. “He did wrong me,” she snapped.

Hathor arched a perfect brow. “Really?” She sat up and tucked her legs to the side, before reaching for a platter of sweetmeats. “How did he wrong you?”

“He said he would love me no matter what and when he found out what I was, he… He…”

“What? He what?”

She swallowed. He’d chased her down outside and demanded an explanation then left her there. “He left me.”

Hathor laughed. “He left you, a big, bad goddess? How dare he. Let’s smite him.” Another round of piercing laughter filled the air and she hissed low under her breath. “And why did he leave you? Do you think maybe it was because you blurted out to him that you weren’t sure if you were going to kill him or not when you first met? Or do you think he left because you didn’t trust him enough to tell him who you were, before you were forced to?”

Saffron shifted uncomfortably on the silken pillows. Suddenly, she really disliked the direction of this conversation. “I don’t know. All I know is he looked at me like I was some kind of freak, then walked away.”

“Ahh, and you went after him to try to explain it.”

She snorted. “Of course not. He lied about accepting me. What more was there to say?”

Hathor grunted. “What else indeed.” She opened her mouth and her male attendant, with his bare, muscular chest, fed her a grape. “Seems to me you’re punishing him when you didn’t give him any choice in how to handle it.”

That grabbed her attention. “What do you mean?”

“Well, like you are so quick to point out,
Saffron
, these are humans. They like to think things through, analyse them, and then think on them some more.”

That was true enough. “So what? I should go back to him?”

“I think,” Hathor said, rising ever so elegantly to her feet and smiling coquettishly at the man beside her, “you should think about who you are, and why you told this man you loved him. There must be something special about him for you to drop your guard and willingly admit to a human you love him.”

The barge stopped and another attendant, just as fine as the others, reached out a hand to assist Saffron to her feet. When his warm skin closed around hers she sighed. There was no spark, nothing like she got even from a flashing glance from Kenric.

Escorted to the bank, she glanced over her shoulder and spied Hathor waving at her, as the men rowing got back to work.

“Find happiness, Saffron. You deserve it. When you are truly happy, your connection with the earth will be even stronger and she will bloom even more.”

Then the barge vanished into thin air. And she was alone in Luxor, standing on the bank of the Nile. With a sigh, she tightened her hold on her bag and headed up the street to her destination, the finest hotel in the city.

Chapter Seven

Tajikistan

Kenric Annson ground his back teeth and swore as he looked over the mess before him. Groaning, he rubbed the back of his neck and shouted for his translator. “Tell them to get out of there!” The entrance the men were using looked ready to collapse at any moment. There was another one, which looked much better. Why they weren’t using that one, he had no clue. But he
would
find out.

The message was relayed and people scattered free from the hole of the dig site. Adjusting his grip on his weapon, he shook his head and strode towards the entrance.
Christ, how do I keep getting myself into these situations?
This wasn’t quite how he’d planned his next job to go. Hell, he thought he’d be staying in Somalia to continue on with the dig there. Or he’d have gone home to try to get over Saffron.

Kade, however, had told him that he had another place he could use him. So, regretfully, he left Shade and Flare back in Somalia and he’d hopped a flight to this country. Tajikistan, the smallest country in Central Asia—an extremely mountainous region that lay along an extremely seismic belt, and therefore experienced frequent earthquakes. Like being along the rift plates wasn’t enough of an adventure.

“What now, Boss?” his translator, Mirzo Fitrat, asked.

“I need to see the maps and then I need the most experienced man to show me what the hell they’ve been doing along here.”

“You got it, Boss.” He ran off and Kenric sighed.

He strode towards his tent, really wishing he could just lie down and get some shut-eye. The flight in had been a bear and what little sleep he’d managed to get had been interrupted by memories and images of Saffron.

Bag on his cot, he turned when the tent flap opened. A tall man stood there. Heavy beard and small eyes. A wad of rolled up papers in one hand.

“You Kenric Annson?” he asked in accented English.

“That’s me.” The man sized him up. “And you are?”

“Rahmon Nuri.” He shrugged at the look on Kenric’s face. “Born here and educated in England. My father was a professor at Cambridge.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, offering his hand.

Rahmon shook it and grinned, not nearly looking so rough any more. “I’m the head man around here. Fitrat said you wanted a guide so I came over. Honestly, I didn’t even know you had arrived. Communications around here are…well, lacking, to say the least. You don’t need to bring your rifle. We have security around here, what with the silver we’re digging for. These are the maps you asked for.”

He left his rifle but didn’t remove his side arms. Some things were just too ingrained to ignore. Holding the maps in his hand, he took a deep breath. “A tour would be great. I was told there are a lot of earthquakes around here—is there any sort of pattern to them?”

“Not that we can figure out. Although my mother would say it’s because the earth is unhappy with us.”

Saffron. He pictured her healing the earth after the big explosion in Somalia and bit the inside of his cheek to tear his thoughts from her. She’d made her choice. She’d left. And Kade had said he wasn’t giving out her information. The man had been serious about that—no amount of threatening or begging had swayed his decision. And he’d not been lucky in locating her, either. He’d checked the places she’d mentioned only to come up empty. So now, here he was, on a different continent still pining over the same woman.

Christ, I’m pathetic.

He followed Rahmon to the mouth of the shaft and listened only half-assed as the man talked to those around him. He didn’t speak Tajik, or Tojiki as it was also known, and didn’t feel he needed to try and listen in. When they stepped into the lift, he adjusted the white hard hat on his head. His fingers slid familiarly along the grooves and scratches on his protective gear. This safety helmet had been with him in the military and when he’d left, so had the hard hat. Yeah, he was a bit superstitious.

“How long have you been here, Rahmon?”

“Since Mr Grimmel took over for the previous owner. I’ve heard about you, Mr Annson. You were in Somalia for him. Damn shame what happened over there.”

He stiffened. Would he have to defend his actions over there?

“It’s Kenric—no need for the Mr Annson bit.” He took a breath. “Yes, Frank—”

Rahmon snorted. “I didn’t mean that. I meant the massacre he sent on your men. Sorry, but that man wasn’t well liked here. It’s why you’ve been given such a chilly reception. No one other than Frank has been sent here.”

He frowned. That news was odd, given Kade’s need to micromanage. “Well, I am nothing like Frank. I can be hard, but I’m fair. My top priority is ensuring everyone is safe.”

The lift shuddered and groaned, causing him to automatically shift his weight to compensate.

“I think we’ll get along just fine then, Mr Annson.”

Kenric didn’t answer. He closed his eyes and allowed his nose to fill him in on how far down they were. As they sank farther into the bowels of the earth, his mind drifted back to Saffron.

How soft her skin felt beneath his fingers. That still unidentifiable scent she wore to make her smell and taste so damned delicious. How it felt to fall asleep holding her in his arms and waking the same way.