Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri) (3 page)

He gave a sloppy, drunken grin.

With a quick motion, she grabbed his head, her hands on either cheek, and drew his face to hers. With her lips pressed to his, she waited until he opened for her. With surgical precision, she thrust heat from her body into his. Through his mouth and into his lungs. He struggled, his eyes widening in shock at the sudden influx of heat. Her hands sizzled against the cooler flesh of his cheeks, and she knew she’d left her mark.

His hands grappled until he found her shoulders, and he shoved her back.

She released him, widening her eyes. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted a kiss.”

The man stumbled backwards, a hand rubbing over his reddened lips, the other touching the red handprint she’d left on his face. His eyes were wide with confusion. “What are you?”

“I don’t understand?” Tamara tried to tamp down the sudden satisfaction threatening to explode into a grin. She shouldn’t have enjoyed his lesson quite so much, but, damn it, he’d asked for it.

He backed further, bouncing off the crowd like a pinball off bumpers. He turned to run from her. He dropped his hands, displaying the blisters now forming upon his lips.

She stifled a sigh in disgust at her actions. Reality always intruded. She could have hurt him seriously. True, most of the energy she’d used came from her lips and fingers, not in her breath, but if she’d pushed in too much heat, she could have killed him.

“Honey, are you alright?” An elderly woman stood next to her, concern written in her features.

Tamara jerked her attention off the man who’d accosted her. “I’m fine, thank you.” She snatched her bottles of water and hurried to the outside deck.

What have I done?

* * * *

A whisper of power fluttered in Ramose’s mind. Like butterfly wings, energy brushed softly against his flesh, teasing just out of reach. He turned, his eyes searching the origin of the power. A woman stormed from the foyer to the observation deck. Anger burned from her in a nearly visible shower of sparks. She looked young, not much older than fifteen earth years, but instinct told him she was older. Much older.

She dropped into a chair beside a young couple, slamming three bottles of water onto the table. Even in profile, he could tell her mouth was tense, her brow furrowed.

The other woman looked equally young, though a diamond wedding ring set glittered on her left hand. The man beside her appeared older, in his late twenties, his blonde hair matching that of his wife. The fingers of one hand linked with hers, his thumb caressing her hand.

The young wife brushed blonde hair from her face and, with a concerned look, spoke to the other. “What’s wrong?”

“A pervert decided he was going to cop a feel.”

“Are you all right?” The married woman leaned forward, worry etched in the sudden furrowing of her brow. So they were friends at least.

“Oh, I’m fine. And I don’t think he’s going to be putting his hands on a woman without her permission for a long time.”

“What did you do, Tamara?”

Tamara
. Ramose tested the name in his mind. It fit, somehow. Not too delicate, and not too strong.
Interesting
. The tone of the other woman’s voice drew Ramose deeper into the conversation. Instead of righteous concern like he’d expected, her tone held admonishment. Curiosity overwhelmed propriety, and he continued to eavesdrop, using every bit of his powerful Petiri hearing to catch every nuance of their voices. Important voices. Though he didn’t know why. And one of those voices played his body the way a feminine hand played a harp. Soothing, yet arousing, despite the tinge of anger, mixed with… fear?

“Let’s just say he got a little hot under the collar by the time I was finished.”

The other woman leaned forward, her voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “You can’t do that kind of thing, Tamara. What if you hurt him? Or worse, what if someone saw?”

“Julie, I’m not going to let that pervert touch me and not pay for it. I didn’t hurt him. Not bad, anyway.”

“Where is he?”

Tamara nodded toward the back corner of the observation deck. Several young men stood in the back. He knew the instant he laid eyes on the man who she spoke about. Well-dressed and groomed, he sported a red mark in the shape of feminine handprints on his face. A
burn
! Surprise rippled through Ramose. She held the power of fire. Dangerous. Deadly. Both to others, as well as him

“Oh, my God,” whispered the one called Julie. “Tamara, you left a mark! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I didn’t like his hands all over me.”

Ramose followed their gaze toward the man in question. Incensed, the human male motioned toward Tamara.

“The little bitch must have had some kind of heater in her palm.”

Curiosity fluttered inside him, but that wasn’t all. The ice he held in his veins crept down his fingers, aching to send itself at a man who had tried to touch the female. Anger. Hatred.

Control. He needed control. For thousands of years, he’d been known to his people as the man of ice, both in gifts and emotions. He’d held himself in check for so long he barely understood what was happening. He cocked his head, observing the humans. Now, this was a scientific problem outside of his reach.
Why
? Why would he hate a man who had nothing to do with him? His jaw threatened to crack under the pressure of clenching his teeth to maintain control. His fingers tightened into a fist, and he swallowed the urge to slam his fist into the burned man’s face struck him.

He sucked in a harsh breath. The violent urge made no sense. Not over a woman he’d never met. And a human at that.

He took deep breaths, forcing his muscles to relax before he gave himself away. He turned his attention back to the women.

“You need to be careful, Tamara.” Another surge of power, this one different from the first woman.

They both had power
! Who were these women?
What
were these women?

The young woman tossed a hand out in apparent exasperation. “It’s not like I asked for him to do what he did, Julie.”

“That’s not what I meant. Something is going to happen tonight. You’ll meet someone. Two someone’s actually. One you can trust, and the other you can’t. You need to be careful.”

By the gods! She could see the future.

Ramose narrowed his eyes, studying the two young women. One held the power of fire. The other had the ability to see the future. Was this a new turn in human evolution? He struggled to keep from smiling. Gods, how he hoped so. Then he and his crew wouldn’t have to hide their own skills from the world.

He analyzed both women for a moment before his attention focused entirely on the one called Tamara. She drew him. Like the Sphinx, her face held a familiar curve. The gentle tilt of her lips, the warm brown hair. Everything about her plucked a chord deep inside. For the first time in centuries, the gentle stir of arousal swept through his blood. She glanced in his direction, and he could almost swear he saw flames leaping within in her eyes.

The artificial lights lowered, shrouding her face in shadows. From the corner of his eye, he saw the lasers dance upon the stone surface of the pyramids, drawing the shapes of a history long past. Yet the colors and images they drew paled in comparison to the luminescent quality of this woman’s complexion.

The speakers exploded with its tinny music, and she jolted in her chair, spinning to look over her shoulder. The sharp glint of gold caught his eye. He narrowed his eyes, peering closer. A golden serpent wrapped around her bicep, its eyes glittering red in the darkness.

A
Napshua.
Unbidden, irritation seeped through his blood. The symbol of his people, a
Napshua
, created of a special metal alloy from the world of Petiri, designed only for the person who wore it. At a glance, the armband resembled gold, but the special alloy held the mysteries of Petiri magick within, a magick few Petiri even understood. Once bonded, the
Napshua
took on special traits, offering the wearer its protection, enhancing the wearer’s natural magickal gifts. But Ramose knew every Petiri on this world, and, despite her control of one of the most difficult magickal elements, this woman wasn’t one of them.

The asp sensed him and sharp, red eyes glittered in his direction. The magickal pull from the
Napshua
tugged at his psyche. It whispered in his mind, soft mystical sounds of dreams long dead. Of a world he hadn’t seen in thousands of years. Ramose shook his head, shoving the magick to the background.
Who was she? What was she?

Chapter Three

Tonight wasn’t the night to dwell on the negative, despite the pervert in the foyer, so Tamara grinned and pushed all thoughts of said jerk from her mind. She was in Egypt. Okay, so she had to put up with her cousin, Julie and her new husband, Jeff, making goo-goo eyes at one another. That didn’t matter because she was in Cairo, a place she’d dreamed of since she was a kid. Dreams which included a man and his entire life from ancient times. This trip was supposed to help her get him out of her system so she could go on with her life.

The speakers blared, and the secrets of the ancients were revealed. She followed with rapt attention, her mind spinning with the awesome power and accomplishments of a people long past.

“Is this seat taken?”

The voice registered on a deep, unconscious level, sliding down her spine like melted chocolate. Tamara hid a shudder. Nope, nobody was going to steal her attention tonight. Not even a voice as sexy as sinfully rich chocolate. She motioned with an impatient hand toward the seat in invitation, her eyes never leaving the lights dancing upon the walls of the pyramids.

Tamara’s cousin elbowed her gently in the gut. She shoved back, frustrated. “Not now,” she whispered. The speakers touted the story of Khufu, the fourth dynasty pharaoh responsible for the Great Pyramid. No matter what Julie had to say, it could wait.

Just like she’d waited to tell Tamara there would be three on their trip, not two. Even now that irritated her. Special gifts were common in her family. Gifts that hundreds of years ago would have branded them witches and resulted in them being burned at the stake. Well, not her, because fire did her bidding. She’d probably have been squashed with stones or drowned.

She’d had to twist her cousin’s arm to get her to sign up for this trip because Julie hated planes. Then, all of a sudden, she was excited, volunteering to handle all the arrangements. Tamara should have known something was up, but she’d been too caught up in her own excitement to wonder about the sudden change. Of course, Julie must have had a premonition of her coming marriage, and planning a honeymoon was exciting, even if it meant air travel.

Now, Tamara was stuck with them. The two inseparable J’s. Julie and Jeff. Dragging the two of them to tonight’s show hadn’t been easy, but staying in their rooms was unacceptable. Tamara hoped the rest of the trip didn’t follow the same path.

Just then, Julie leaned in to whisper in Tamara’s ear.

“Jeff isn’t feeling well. I’m going to take him to the hotel. I’ll be back soon.”

Tamara shrugged her off. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Go.” In seconds, she was again engrossed in the show. True, everything they talked about in the booming recording she knew already, but it was different, thinking of such things while staring at the pyramids and the mysterious face of the Sphinx.

Before she was ready, the show ended. Tamara hid her sigh of disappointment. She could have stayed all night listening to the stories of Ancient Egypt. Darkness settled over the massive structures, and bright lights clicked on, shining down on the tourists from tall poles along the back of the observation deck. Chairs scraped all around as everyone stood. She’d wanted so much more than she’d seen here. What the ancient Egyptians did was a marvel of ancient technology, but she wanted to know the people. Who were they? How did they live?

She sighed and shifted in her chair, still staring at the shadowed stone structures.

“May I escort you to your hotel?”

Tamara jolted at the masculine voice. She’d forgotten all about someone asking to sit beside her. Before she even turned, she knew something was different about him. A cold power surged over her, cooling the constant sizzle of her gift. With a deep breath, she turned to face him. Dark, green eyes stared back at her, framed beneath full lashes. The man’s jet-black hair waved downward, brushing his shoulders with soft curls. Yet his face wasn’t exactly soft. A strong, aristocratic nose complimented the chiseled features of a man made to catch the eye. Full lips greeted her in a half smile. But it was the tiny crescent tattoo on his right cheek that sent a tremor of recognition through her body. Blood drained from her face, replaced with the dry cold of the winter desert’s night, and a shiver ran up her spine.

The man from her dreams.

Her head shaking, she turned toward Julie, only to see her empty seat.

“Your friend left some time ago. She indicated I should take you back to your hotel.”

Tamara nodded. She vaguely remembered Julie saying something about Jeff being sick.

It was obvious his accent wasn’t American. The Arabic tinge to his words and his mode of dress, a pair of black trousers and a black button up shirt, told her a great deal. So close to the Egyptian “business uniform.” She’d noticed when they arrived the cab drivers and businessmen all wore nice trousers with a button up white shirt. He flaunted tradition by wearing black, but other than his eyes and his height, he looked like a typical Egyptian. Tamara swallowed hard. “She wasn’t supposed to leave me here.”

He smiled. “That’s all right. I’ll be happy to escort you to your hotel. Are you at the Mena House?”

She hoped that was just a guess. Mr. Perfect Teeth was scary enough without wondering if the man who’d stepped out of her dreams was a stalker. If it was a guess, it was a logical one, considering the Mena House was across the street from the pyramids and one of the most popular tourist hotels. She nodded, standing. She clutched her bag in front of her, her eyes snatching glances at the departing crowd. This couldn’t be happening. It was him. From her dreams. Alive. But… he couldn’t be alive.