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The home was the center of Egyptian life. That’s not to say the ancients didn’t have their share of normal family problems. – Introduction to Egyptology, George E. Herbert
Clenching her fist to keep from decking her housemate, Billie brushed past Kyra. No doubt from the heat in her cheeks, her lily-white skin flamed in embarrassment, but the manners drilled into her by her grandmother dropped into place. “Would you like to come inside, Porter?”
His masculine chuckle filled her ears. “Why thank you, Billie. I’d appreciate warming up before I head home.”
“The kitchen’s this way, I’ll make us some coffee.” Ignoring Kyra’s astonished look, Billie marched past the stairs. The swish of denim said he was right behind her. She’d be polite, serve him some coffee, and send the gentleman on his way before she took her car back out to the cemetery to check on Marcus. Yeah, that was a good plan.
Except she didn’t want to rush Porter out the door.
Geez, Cyrus Johnson was right. She was letting her hormones make her decisions.
Nettie looked up from the paper at their entrance, the comics section now spread on the table. “Did you find—” Brown eyes peered over the tops of her reading glasses as Billie snatched a couple of mugs from the cupboard. “I see you—”
Billie caught the sharp, short shake of Porter’s head from the corner of her eye.
“—you, um, didn’t find the dog.” Nettie grabbed her own mug and took a quick gulp of coffee.
Now what the hell was that all about? In the past, she’d seen the professor agitated, paranoid, even on the edge of violence, especially when she was off her meds. But nervous?
Never.
And taking cues from a man, any man? Oh, hell no.
Porter crossed the kitchen, handed extended. “Porter Gates.”
Nettie regained her composure and clasped his proffered hand. “Netanya Soren. A pleasure to meet you.”
Billie handed the mug of steaming coffee to Porter. His smile nearly sent her melting into the kitchen floorboards. He slid into the chair next to Nettie as if he’d done it a million times before, like he belonged there. A twinge of jealousy whispered through her.
The twins choose that moment to troop through the kitchen door and claim the remaining chairs before she could sit in the one next to Porter. No doubt Kyra had run upstairs to wake Reyna and dish about Billie showing up at the front door with the bouncer.
An evil smirk filled Kyra’s face while her sister disarmed the man with deceptive small talk. Billie leaned against the sink and sipped her coffee, part of her content to simply watch the play of the overhead light in his hair. The other part fretted over how to keep the goth quiet when the inevitable rude question was asked.
“So, Porter, our Billie, she’s do-able—” Kyra’s query ended in a squeal of pain.
Billie swallowed her own gasp of surprise. It wasn’t Reyna’s heel digging into Kyra’s instep. Nettie shot the girl an ugly look before easing the pressure.
Porter stood. From his grin, Billie was sure he was very aware of the byplay happening under the kitchen table. “It’s been a pleasure, ladies, but I must be going.” That smile turned on her. “If you would be kind enough to escort me out, Billie?”
Trying to ignore the other three sets of eyes boring into her skull, she nodded and set her mug on the counter. Leading the way to the front door, her body tingled, conscious of his presence no matter how her mind wanted to deny the attraction.
He paused, concern replacing the humor in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
Blinking in surprise, she said, “I’m fine. Why?”
His gaze swept down her body before his eyes met hers again. “You’re still limping.”
A shrug lifted her shoulders. Having someone to confide in was a nice little fairy tale. Just like Cinderella. She’d learned a long time ago it didn’t work that way in real life. “Nasty bruise. It’ll heal.”
He hesitated. For an instant, it seemed like he’d try to kiss her, but then that wicked grin of his returned. “Take care of yourself, Billie. Call me if you decide on another night walk through the graveyard.”
She stood at the door, watching him, until he crossed the street at the corner and disappeared from view. Then his words hit her.
Still limping.
Another night walk.
He had seen her in the cemetery last night.
##
Hours later, Billie sat at a corner table on the second floor of a nearby fast food joint. The image of Porter Gates’ cocky grin still floated through her brain. She stared at her laptop screen. The words composing the motion for a case made no sense. Had he watched her battle the monsters? If so, why hadn’t he helped her and the children? Unless he couldn’t see the ghosts.
Except she’d found him at Marcus’s grave this morning.
Her fingernails tapped on the formica tabletop as questions bounced around her skull. Or had he unleashed those creatures? Resting her chin on her fists and watching the occasional customer sweep in and out of the restaurant’s main doors didn’t bring her any answers.
She had ignored Kyra’s jibes about the bouncer after he left and gathered her computer bag and files. A quick stop at the cemetery to check on Marcus left her reassured, at least in regard to the ghost boy. Even though she had trouble seeing him clearly, his right side showed no signs of the black nothingness that poisoned him last night. Both Sarah Jane and Tommy verified Marcus had regained his normal color though the boy was rather upset his ectoplasmic version of his turtleneck was still ripped. While she was in the cemetery, fresh flurries swirled through the air. A quick circuit around the salted graveyard road produced no sign of the black dog, though the children promised to keep watch for him.
Billie had told Nettie she was heading for OSU’s law library, but at the last second, she drove to the hamburger joint a few blocks from the house instead. The nasty weather kept most of the undergrad students in their dorms, so the place was fairly quiet.
From her seat on the balcony, she stared down into the main seating area. It gave her a perfect view of Nettie shoving open the glass door. Billie started to raise her hand in a wave when a dark figure silhouetted against the deepening twilight followed the professor into the restaurant. Nettie turned at Porter’s greeting.
Billie’s stomach lurched at the quick, friendly hug the two shared, and pressed against the back wall, wanting desperately to melt through the vinyl. Their voices faded and the pair disappeared from view as they headed toward the serving counter. Why the dissembling in the kitchen this morning if they knew each other?
Given the teasing Kyra had launched at her, Billie could understand why Nettie might want to keep a relationship under wraps, especially with a younger man. That comprehension didn’t stop the stab of disappointment in her gut.
Nettie’s distinctive tone drifted up from underneath the balcony. Oh crap! they coming up the stairs?
“Are you sure she doesn’t know?” The scrap of chair legs on tile meant the pair had grabbed a table right underneath Billie’s perch. Not good when her stomach threatened to heave the cheese fries and coffee she’d consumed.
Porter’s deeper voice held a touch of concern. “No, she’s not conscious of her true nature. She was operating totally on instinct last night.”
“But the dead boy who was poisoned?”
“Healed but by instinct,” Porter repeated. “I’m more concerned about the sek. She killed one last night, but its compatriots now know she and I are here in the city. The others will hunt. For her. For the rest of us. For the children.”
A shiver rippled up Billie’s spine, even as her gut cramped in fear. He had been in the cemetery last night! And he knew a lot more about those monsters than she did. She closed her laptop and shoved the file back in her tote before she eased closer to the ornamental metal railing protecting the edge of the balcony, praying the vinyl on the closer chair wouldn’t creak and alert them to her presence.
“We need to tell her—” Nettie started.
Porter must have made some gesture to stop the professor from finishing the thought. His voice dropped, and Billie strained to hear his words. “Neit, we have to be careful. She was worried about something going wrong before we came here, and I don’t believe it was her usual anal-retentive paranoia. None of you ladies remembered our mission.”
What the hell did he call Nettie? And what exactly was a sek? Her fingers itched to open her laptop and use the restaurant’s wi-fi, but the clack of keys might alert the two.
A snort came from Nettie. “I remember now.”
“Yeah.” Humor laced Porter’s voice. “But you did it in the middle of a battlefield.” Liquid slurped. “You’re damn lucky you’re not locked in a psych ward.”
Tapping sounds came from below. “Not taking the human medication forced on me has helped with my clarity.”
Masculine laughter followed Nettie’s irritated words. “Good to hear you dropped the anti-anxiety meds. They were dulling your reaction time.”
Billie swallowed a groan. Now she had confirmation of why Nettie had been acting so strangely lately. What the hell possessed this guy to go along with her disregard of doctor’s orders? Did he like his women crazy?
Another disgusted snort from Nettie. “What are you suggesting we do?”
“Stay as close to her as possible. Apep will send his minions after her since she’s the greatest single danger to his plans next to Set.” Another long pause. “By the way, what do you know about a ghost harassing her concerning his unborn child?”
Mother of pearl! Billie dug into own nails into her palms to keep from slapping something, anything, in frustration. The bastard had seen Cyrus and didn’t say a freaking word about it. She sucked in a deep breath as her conscience reminded her she hadn’t told anyone about Cyrus either.
The tapping below halted. “A client of hers died recently. His children are squabbling with the trophy wife over the estate. Billie said something about the widow popping any time.”
Satisfaction filled Porter’s next words. “I think we have a winner in the prophesy sweepstakes, folks.”
Enough crazy talk. Billie shoved back her chair, jumped to her feet, and charged down the stairs. The surprise on their faces at her appearance only pissed her off more. “If you’ve got something to say about me, then say it to my face.”
Wariness replaced Nettie’s startled look. “Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop. You may not get the whole story.” Anger clipped her words.
Fine. The professor could be mad all she wanted. “Get your coat. I’m taking you home.”
Porter raised a placating hand. “Billie, wait—”
She raised an index finger and shook it under his nose. “Shut up. Now. She’s got PTSD, and you know it. Telling her it’s okay to drop her drugs is fucking irresponsible. But going along with her fantasy world shit—”
No words could express the disgust filling Billie’s gut. “Get out of here, and don’t come near me or Nettie again. Or I’ll drop a restraining order on your ass. Got it?”
He opened his mouth, but he must have thought better of whatever he was about to say. His jaw snapped shut with an audible click of teeth. Slinging on his black leather jacket, he started for the door, but he stopped halfway to the exit and turned toward her. “If you see Cyrus Johnson again, let me know. I know you don’t like accepting help, but you’re going to need mine before this is over.” Unnatural calmness filled his words. He pivoted and strode out of the restaurant.
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