“You are, aren’t you?” Josh grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. His bright gaze drilled into her. “Stay away from those places, Serena. There are people there who aren’t… right. They’re dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt. Or worse. Because there is worse.” His expression went as dark and haunted as his voice, sending a shiver up her spine.

“I know,” she said. “And I’m careful.”

Out of the blue, he kissed her hard. “That is the biggest lie I’ve ever heard,” he said against her lips.

His kiss gentled, his lips becoming soft velvet as he delivered an unspoken apology before settling back in the seat. And yes, she should be irked by his arrogant insistence that she heed his warning, was still a little annoyed by the fact that he’d basically blackmailed her into joining her treasure hunt. But God, she’d been alone for so long, had been so lonely she sometimes ached.

No matter how attentive Val was, how many people she surrounded herself with, she still felt that yearning she couldn’t banish no matter how busy she kept herself. Now she understood the shadows in her mother’s eyes. At the time, Serena had been too young to know what made her mother cry when she thought she was alone, but the closer Serena got to Josh, the more clearly she understood.

The only person who had ever made her mother’s shadows recede was Val. Serena’s heart thudded against her rib cage at the sudden suspicion that threaded its way into her mind. Her mother… had she been in love with him?

Val had been married, living only a few miles away. Serena didn’t remember any inappropriate contact, but her mom definitely lit up when her Guardian had come to visit.

“Hey,” Josh said, tilting her face up to his with a finger beneath her chin. “We’re here. Where are you?”

The taxi had pulled to a stop halfway up the curb, and she’d barely noticed. Seemed her trip down memory lane was bumpier than the streets of Alexandria.

“I guess I was spacing.”

Josh paid the taxi driver and reached for her knapsack. She figured that since he’d bullied his way along, he most certainly could carry it. With a grunt, he heaved it over his shoulder alongside his own.

“What do you have in this thing? I think it weighs more than you do.”

She laughed as she got out of the vehicle, glad she’d thrown on a light sweater to counter the cool morning. “Maps, tools, water, snacks.”

“You’re one of those always-prepared people, aren’t you?” He made it sound like a bad thing.

“Maybe. I also brought my flask. Never leave home without it.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Whiskey?”

“Of course.”

“That’s my girl.” He dug into the pocket of his backpack and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. Squinting into the sun, he popped them on. “Guess this proves I’m not a vampire, huh?”

God, he was perfect. Even the aura of danger that surrounded him appealed to her basest feminine instincts, because this was a man made to protect what was his, and what she wouldn’t give to be his…

Well, she’d give anything but her virginity.

“It was just a dream,” she muttered.

“Did I bite you?”

She swallowed, the memory heating her far more than the Egyptian sun. “Yes.”

He gazed out over the tops of the palms lining the horizon, not looking at her. “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her mind replaying the moment his fangs had penetrated her. God help her, she’d loved it.

“Then I’ll have to remember that.” He turned to her and smiled, a dark, erotic smile that took her breath. “Because make no mistake, Serena. I do bite.”

Serena hurried ahead of Wraith to the catacombs entrance, and he hung back a little, mainly to keep an eye out for danger, but the view wasn’t bad, either. From her hiking boots to her olive drab cargo pants and fitted T-shirt, she was sin in adventure gear. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail, and all he could think about was winding the thick hair around his fist while he kissed her. Undressed her. Pounded into her as he had in the dream

Afterward, he’d take her again, feed from her, and take her once more. Twice more. He could spend days with her…

His gut clenched. He couldn’t spend days with her, because she might not have days after he took her charm. There was an expiration date on her life, and he was the one stamping it there.

He shoved the thought aside, because thinking about the consequences of his actions was a waste of energy and time, and besides, why should this be any different from anything else he’d done?

It wasn’t.

She looked back over her shoulder at him, her full lips parted in a sultry smile.

It wasn’t.

It didn’t take long for Serena to arrange access into a private area of the catacombs of Kom El-Shuqafa. The man she’d spoken with had been hesitant to let Wraith tag along, until Wraith explained that he was her assistant, though he had to admit that the way she’d flirted with the guy had probably helped. And it had torqued the shit out of Wraith. Why, he had no idea.

He glued himself to her side as they walked the cavernous passages marked by Roman and Egyptian art. Though he’d been all over Egypt and the Middle East, he’d never been inside the catacombs. As a demon, he was attuned to malevolent undercurrents, and the closer they got to the Hall of Caracalla, the stronger the feeling became. He hadn’t studied up on the history of the catacombs, but he knew all the way to his bones that something evil had taken place here.

“There are several tombs within the Hall of Caracalla,” Serena said quietly, so the guide wouldn’t hear them. “Many haven’t been fully explored or excavated. There’s a specific area I’m interested in, closed to the public, but we’ve been given special access.”

Wraith let out a low whistle. “Val has some connections.” In Wraith’s opinion, The Aegis was way too powerful for its own good. He gestured at their guide, who was descending into a stairwell ahead of them. “Will he be watching us the whole time?”

“I hope not.”

Wraith had ways to deal with the guy if he decided to hang out, but after last night’s jaunt into Serena’s head, he was in no hurry to use his gift to get inside anyone else’s mind. He’d never had a problem with recovery time before, but thanks to the whole dying thing, he felt a hell of a lot weaker than he should.

The fact that he hadn’t eaten anything solid since the night before wasn’t helping.

Last night after kissing Serena, he’d fed on a local shopkeeper, and this morning he’d thought about getting some breakfast in the hotel restaurant, but keeping down solids was becoming harder and harder. Seemed like, lately, blood and whiskey were all his stomach could tolerate. Even coffee didn’t appeal to him anymore.

No coffee. He might as well be dead already.

The narrow staircase opened up into a square room, around which were a hivelike series of arched brick tunnels. Serena gestured for him to follow her, and they moved to the right, through an archway that led to a tomb that had been roped off. The guide stood aside, watching warily as they slipped beneath the rope.

The chamber was like every other ancient chamber on the planet. Dark. Dusty. Smelled like the air had been filtered through a dried corpse.

It was the scent of adventure, and already adrenaline was trickling into Wraith’s system.

Wraith turned to the guide, speaking in Arabic. “Why is this chamber off-limits to the public?” The guy just stared. Wraith waved a hand in front of his face. “Hel-lo.”

Serena pinched Wraith’s waist, and he yelped. Her eyes conveyed a private message: Don’t antagonize him. Probably wise. But more boring than necessary.

Wraith let her lead him around the corner to an even smaller chamber. Holding her finger to her lips in a gesture for silence, she eased into a dark recess. Wraith lowered her pack next to her and moved to the corner, where he leaned casually against it to keep an eye on the guide. Behind him, he heard Serena scrounge through her backpack. A moment later, the familiar sounds of digging began.

A few minutes later, the guide yawned and glanced at his watch. He shot Wraith a look of utter distrust before disappearing up the stairs.

“Nothing,” Serena muttered. “There’s nothing here.”

“Need some help?”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

He found her on her knees in front of a fist-sized opening in the limestone wall. On the ground was a pile of excavated stone and a small brick marked by writing and timeworn etchings in a language he didn’t recognize.

“Was there supposed to be something inside the hole?”

“I thought so.”

Wraith crouched next to her and tried not to get distracted by the feminine scent of sun on her warm skin. “What does the writing say?”

“It’s a prayer, of sorts.” She sank down, tucked one leg beneath her, and stared at the brick. A couple of wisps of hair had fallen forward across her bronzed cheeks, and Wraith reached out to brush them back, an excuse to touch her. She rewarded him with a sinful smile before turning back to the brick.

“See, in the year two hundred and fifteen, the emperor Caracalla became enraged at the citizens of Alexandria, and he supposedly slaughtered twenty thousand of them. Many of the dead were brought here. The writing is a wish for any Christian souls to find their way through the mass of heathen souls surrounding them.”

The slaughter explained the feeling of malevolence that crawled on Wraith’s skin like a million stinging ants. “So why did the dude freak out?”

She ran a finger over the text, almost lovingly. He imagined her doing the same to his dermoire, tracing the symbols, caressing the lines with her hands, her tongue… he stifled a groan.

“There are a lot of theories, but Val believes that the Alexandrians insulted him with a satirical play about some of his actions, including the murder of his own brother.”