Bloody Kisses (18 page)

D
ressed in jeans and a t-shirt
, Olive ventured out into the city to grab a bite to eat and to feel the sun on her face. The dig had kept her underground for weeks and she was starting to feel like a vampire. The project was at a point where her students could take over so that she could have a break for a few days. Dark sunglasses protected her eyes from the glare as she strolled along the cobblestone sidewalk outside the hotel. A small café about a block away boasted ethnic staples and she ordered a shawerma with shredded beef. Pita bread was particularly good in Alexandria and Cairo. She’d spent the past six months bouncing between the two cities, either digging or lecturing at the universities. While she dined, students would be back at the tomb of Amenken cataloguing the contents. The one item they wouldn’t be listing was the relic that currently resided beneath her shirt. No one would question it. Some mummies had the scarab and some didn’t. It depended on the dynasty and their station in life. Her theft would alter the historical value of the re-telling of Amenken’s tale.

Leaving the heart scarab in the room had seemed a bad idea, so she’d tucked it into her bra. Ideas of justification swam in her mind. Was her father’s freedom worth sullying the history of someone long gone and jeopardizing her career and reputation? She worried at the inside of her bottom lip. No one would know what she’d done aside from her father and Xavier Wells. Neither of them seemed to be bothered by the violation she’d been forced to perpetrate.

After sitting at an outdoor table with her sandwich and herbal tea, she patted her chest. The heat of the sun on her back felt good. Maybe she’d walk to the market after her meal. A lovely collection of outdoor shops was situated a few blocks away, but she’d been too busy to check them out yet.

A young couple sat across from her, and she glanced up to catch them staring at her. The woman smiled and looked away quickly. Bouncy black curls brushed her companion’s cheek as she turned to speak to him in Arabic. Olive wasn’t fluent in the native tongue but she understood some.

There was no way the couple could know what she’d done, but she still felt as if they were judging her with their dark-eyed glares. She silently cursed her father.

Olive was learning that maybe, just maybe, her father was a con man, that his life was a lie. Casper had always been a bit of an unstable character and now Olive was standing directly in his shade. The thought almost made her lose her appetite but she’d already devoured more than half the sandwich. She carried what was left to the trash bin and took the sweet tea to go.

As she walked back to the hotel, she considered what she had to wear to a gala put on by an eccentric multimillionaire. A cool breeze lifted her hair from her neck and tangled the strands around the straw in her drink. The weather was warm and there’d been no wind before but she felt a significant chill in her spine.

The scent of flowers hung heavy in the air as a shaven-headed man passed her. He was dressed in dark pants and an ivory tunic, and when he turned to glance at her over his shoulder, he wore the kohl liner from her dream. With a wink and a slight smirk, he disappeared around the corner just a few feet in front of her.

Strange
. She rushed to the corner to spy him once more but he was gone, disappeared into thin air. Olive searched the sidewalk across the street but he had simply vanished. A burning sensation in her chest caused her to check her cleavage. The heart scarab was heating up, and she touched it. The obsidian wasn’t hot enough to scald her skin, but it was definitely warmer than her body temperature.

Her nerves were getting the better of her. That was all. One more day and she’d hand off the scarab and be done with this. Although she wasn’t at the dig site, she was supposed to be working. A small recorder held her verbal notes and assessments from the excavation and her thoughts needed to be written into a report for the university chair and for Xavier Wells. Benefactors rarely interfered in projects but a requirement of his funding was that he be kept updated on progress.

A young bellhop dressed in a black suit pulled open the glass door for her when she arrived back at the hotel—The hotel was charming and she was reminded it was being paid for by Wells. She’d never met him in person, and only knew that he was a self-made millionaire who liked to surround himself with extravagant objects. What a sad existence that must be.

Back in her room, she kicked off her leather sandals and removed the heart scarab from her bra. It still felt warm, but not as much as before. Had the man on the street somehow affected the relic? The tissue she’d kept it in still sat on the nightstand and she re-wrapped it and put it in the drawer.

The small closet held a few different outfits she’d brought with her. The closest thing she had to fancy was a black skirt and charcoal blouse. In the event she might need to meet with museum curators or patrons, she always had something business appropriate with her. That ensemble would have to do for the party. She wasn’t inclined to go out and spend too much money on a dress she’d probably only wear once.

Olive had no plans to leave the room again for the day. She could order in dinner. So she removed her bra and replaced her jeans with a pair of sweatpants.

The room had cable but nothing held her interest so she pulled out her tablet to read. After an hour or so, a knock on the door pulled her out of the imaginary world of Aloysius Pendergrast. She glanced through the peephole but didn’t see anyone in the hall. Olive pulled the door open to find a single blue water lily placed on the dark gray carpet. She peeked her head out to look down the corridor but there was nothing in either direction. Just empty hallways

She picked up the flower and brought it inside. The blue petals transitioned into a stunning midnight color at the outer edges. She had no idea who would leave it outside her door though. There was no vase in the room, so she put a little water in the ice bucket and dropped in the flower. Its scent was strong and the bloom’s significance wasn’t lost on her. The lotus symbolized death and rebirth, and in ancient Egypt people believed the scent of lilies signified the presence of the gods.

Her heartbeat accelerated and chill bumps rose on her skin. Maybe someone knew what she’d done and they were taunting her. Or maybe she was just paranoid and making connections that didn’t exist. The flower was fresh, probably from the florist downstairs. Maybe Xavier had sent it. She already didn’t like that asshole and it would be just the kind of joke a lowlife would find amusing.

She bolted the door and checked the peephole. Once again an empty hallway greeted her. Her skin tingled and she checked under the bed and in the closet and bathroom to make sure the room was empty although she already knew it was.

“Stop it,” she said to herself. “You’re overreacting and freaking yourself out.”

With a deep breath, she sat again, fingers spread over her thighs. While her fingernails were clean, they were in desperate need of a manicure. If she didn’t do something mindless, she’d lose her composure. She fished an emery board out of her makeup bag and began shaping her nails.

* * *

R
oom service brought
up a chicken wrap and rice dish. As much as she wanted a drink, something in the back of her mind told her to abstain, so she ordered a black tea with milk instead. A text message from her father gave an address for the hotel that Xavier would be at tomorrow evening. How convenient...he would be staying in the same hotel as Olive when she’d assumed he’d go fancier with one of the hotels in Cairo.

The price of his silence about her father’s deception was to eat four million bucks he’d paid for the fake Renoir and another million to fund the dig in Alexandria. And he’d get the heart scarab from the tomb of Amenken. Olive’s gain was to save face, keep her father out of prison and possibly secure more funding for future digs. Before she handed the relic over, she would ask for that concession.

Like the night before, sleep came easily, but she was dropped into the same dream. However, this time, the men were wrapping her in bandages, starting at her ankles and working their way up her legs. Blue lilies were placed on her belly and the floral scent was so strong it burned her eyes. The circulation to her feet was cut off as the bandages were wrapped tighter and tighter. Pins and needles prickled her toes until all the feeling disappeared.

Osiris stood over her again, his green face looming in judgment. “Tell me of your trespasses.”

Olive’s stomach flip-flopped. She had no scarab to keep her sins quiet, and her heart pounded so hard her ribs ached. Blood bubbled from her lips and she gasped. “I took the scarab. I stole his heart.” The truth spilled from her even though she wanted to stay silent.

“So you did.” Osiris scraped a fingernail lightly over her cheek and chills ran through her. The white linen tunic he wore brushed against her bare shoulder and three rows of gold braided rope that hung around his neck gleamed in the torchlight.

“I’m sorry,” she offered. Regret had never been so acrid in her gut. It was as if a boulder resided inside her.

Fragrant smoke was blown in her face and her lungs tightened. She coughed.

“It is too late for apologies. Your judgment is at hand. The curse of Amenken has been released.” He removed one rope from his neck and wrapped it around hers. The cord cut into her skin as he pulled it tight.

She woke with a start and wiped at the corners of her mouth, expecting to find blood, but her fingers came away dry. Her heart still pounded. A scream nearly tore from her when she saw the blue lily resting on her chest. She threw it to the floor. Osiris’ words echoed in her mind. Had she unleashed a curse? A mummy curse? But curses weren’t real. Paranoia was taking root in the soil of her guilty conscience, yet doubt niggled at her mind.

The bathroom was dark and she half expected a bandage-covered man to come stumbling out to pull her brain from her nose with a wire hook. Then he’d stuff her torso with flowers and herbs and wrap her body in linen.

Stop it,
Olive told herself. She must have gotten up to fetch the flower to bed. Sleepwalking. Her brain was restless and it transferred to her body. That’s what happened. She hoped.

* * *

O
live dressed
in the black skirt and gray blouse. Jewelry hadn’t been on her mind when she packed her bags, so her neck and ears were bare. She pulled her hair up into a tight bun then let it tumble back down over her shoulders. The copper tresses were so like her mother’s. Would she have worn her hair up or down? Olive had grown up without her so she couldn’t even guess, but decided to leave hers down.

The heart scarab was clutched in her fist as she rode the elevator to the third floor. The gala had started fifteen minutes ago, and she’d be damned if she would be there on the dot to please that asshole. Everything about this felt dirty. Osiris’ words repeatedly echoed in her mind.
The curse of Amenken has been released
.

The sign outside the open double doors read WELLS CHARITY AUCTION. Olive stifled a laugh.
Charity, my ass
. This guy was a douche and he was probably his own charity. Corporate tax loopholes kept people like him rich. Assuming he was American, he was apparently operating offshore too. A director of a nonprofit could pay himself a healthy salary out of charitable contributions before a penny ever made it to the charity.

The conference room was dimly lit but filled with elegantly dressed people milling about.

A thin woman with white, poufy hair bumped into Olive. Diamonds dripped from the lady’s ears, neck and wrists, and a splash of champagne barely missed Olive’s arm. The woman smiled with cigarette-stained teeth. “I’m so sorry, my dear.” She obviously didn’t spend her money on dental work.

Olive touched her shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Waiters carrying trays of champagne and finger food slipped through the crowd, and a young woman in a waitress uniform smiled as she offered Olive a flute of bubbly with a strawberry floating at the top.