Dragon Soul (Dragon Falls, #3)(38)
“I’m a pretty thrifty person, so I tend to agree,” Sophea said slowly. “But… the thought of a free cruise is awfully hard to turn down.”
“There’s the souk,” Mrs. P said, stuffing some pens and hotel paper into her bag. “Clothing can be had there for a few coppers.”
“The bazaar?” Sophea pursed her lips in thought. It just made him want to kiss her. “I doubt if things are that cheap, although I did read that people here expect you to bargain for things. I wonder…”
“I wouldn’t risk it,” he said, nodding toward the clock. “You wouldn’t have time to get to the bazaar district, shop, and get back for the sailing.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” she said, biting her lower lip. “We’re all supposed to go see the pyramids anyway. Although I suppose we could souk it up after that, if there’s time.”
He had to look away, lest a lascivious expression give away his memories about nibbling on that delicious pink lip.
“My beau will reward you once I am returned to him,” Mrs. P said, tucking the cordless phone into her sizeable purse, along with an ashtray and the mints from Sophea’s pillow. “Stop blathering and get me some tea.”
“Well…” Sophea looked him full in the eyes. “What do you think I should do?”
Go home, he ordered his mouth to say. The words were on the tip of his tongue when he opened his mouth, but somehow what came out ended up being, “Take the cruise, of course. Mrs. P says she needs you.”
“You’re right,” she said with an oddly unsure look at him. “It would be stupid to look a gift horse in the mouth, right? Sorry, Mrs. P, I didn’t mean to call you a horse. But you’re both right—I’d kick myself for the rest of my life if I didn’t take this opportunity. Stop waffling and take the bull by the balls, the matron at the orphanage used to say, and that’s just what I’m going to do. If we don’t have time to go to the bazaar after the pyramid tour, then I’ll just buy some clothes at the villages we’re sure to stop by. Well! This is exciting, isn’t it? Rather than being sad because I’m going to be leaving you, we’re all setting off on an exciting adventure. Together.”
She put an emphasis on the word that baffled him—was she implying she was looking forward to more rendezvous as they had the night before, or was she hinting at something else? And if it was the former, why did she have a glum air about her?
Sophea rose at the sound of a knock and waited silently while a waiter delivered their food.
He stared dumbly at the plate set before him, his mind alternating between berating himself and fighting the desire to grab Sophea and kiss her like he’d had the night before. What had he been thinking, telling her to join them?
Well, he’d just have to work doubly hard to make sure that she was not put in harm’s way if the demons should return—and despite Gabriel’s optimistic outlook, he had little doubt that they’d not seen the last of them.
In the end, he ate his food, letting Sophea run the conversation, answering only when she asked him a direct question.
“You look tired,” she said as they finished the meal. “Why don’t you go take a nap for a couple of hours rather than go with Akbar to see the pyramids? Unless you really want to see them, that is.”
He looked first at her, then at Mrs. P, who was busily rolling up a small rattan mat and sliding it into her suitcase. “I think that’s an excellent idea. I’ll rest while you’re out. Away from the hotel. Er… seeing the sights.”
Sophea exclaimed at the time. “Criminy, how did it get to be this late? Akbar will be waiting for us in ten minutes. I’ll just take a fast shower before we go, Mrs. P, all right? Be sure to drink all that tea—we don’t need you getting dehydrated while we’re out seeing the pyramids!”
The room seemed strangely empty when she hurried into the bathroom with her bag in hand.
Silence reigned for a few minutes before Mrs. P, sipping noisily at her cup of tea, set it down and observed, “Her exuberance for life is endearing, is it not?”
He got to his feet slowly, feeling as if he were at least two hundred years old, and moved casually toward the door. Sitting on a small table next to it were two key cards. “Did you tell her the truth when you said you knew who her father was?”
Mrs. P cocked her head, and to his surprise, winked. “Perhaps I did, and perhaps I wanted to waken the gel to the truth. Go, now. You cannot be my champion if you are likely to drop from exhaustion. We have many trials ahead of us before I will reach my beau.”
He paused at the door, opened it, and turned back to face Mrs. P, using his body to shield the fact that he was taking one of the key cards. As a distraction in case she noticed the movement of his arm, he asked, “I take it your boyfriend is in the Underworld?”
The wrinkles in her face rearranged themselves into a smile. “Of course. Who else but a denizen of that realm could summon me to him?”
Rowan slid the card into his back pocket and racked his mind through the dusty corridors of past history classes. “Set was the lord of the Egyptian underworld, wasn’t he? No, I lie—it was Osiris. Is that who you think you’re going to meet?”
She wrapped her scrawny arms carefully around her hunched torso. “He has called me home at last. Somehow, he acquired the means, and we will be reunited again. And with my offering, he will be made whole, and will at last take his rightful place in the world.”