The Ammit next to him opened its mouth. Roman whacked it with the top of his staff on the nose. “You—shut up.”
The Ammit looked just like a cat who had gotten popped with a newspaper: half-shocked, half-outraged. Roman surveyed the two of us. “What’s the matter with you two? Why do you look all dazed?”
The magic melted, taking the visions of the Nile with it. My mind struggled to formulate a coherent thought, any thought. I opened my mouth. “Your pajamas have Eeyore on them.”
“I like Eeyore. He’s sensible. A sober outlook on life never hurt anyone.”
Raphael shook his head, trying to clear it. “What are you doing here?”
Roman grimaced. “How would I know? Last night I helped Andrea and then a winged gadina took my staff, and tonight I woke up with this varmint howling under my window.”
Raphael turned to me. “Last night? After I called you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you call me to come and help?”
“Why would I call you? You can’t do magic.”
The wheels slowly turned in Raphael’s head. He looked at Roman. “How long have you been helping her?”
Roman’s face took on a dangerous expression. “I’m sorry, since when do I answer to you, exactly?”
The two men squared off. Great. I tried the door of the office. Unlocked.
Raphael stepped forward. Roman did, too. They stood dangerously close.
“I asked you a question,” Raphael said, his voice saturated with menace.
Roman’s voice turned icy. “And I told you to f**k yourself. Which part wasn’t clear?”
“Hey!” I snapped.
They looked at me.
“The door is open,” I said. “You can stay out here and compare inches for the entire night, but I’m going inside.”
I swung the door open and stepped across the threshold.
The office was bathed in a gentle yellow glow. The air smelled of sweet myrrh, fiery cinnamon, balsam, and the smoky, spicy mix of thyme and marjoram. The pungent aroma didn’t seem to drift but saturated the room, hanging in the air, filling the place.
I stepped inside. My desk and Kate’s were missing. Four braziers, bronze dishes filled with some sort of fuel on tall metal stems, burned bright, set on both sides of a large chair. In the chair sat Anapa. He rested his cheek on his hand, bent at the elbow and leaning on the chair’s armrest, one long leg over the other.
Flames played in his eyes. He looked absurd, sitting there in his makeshift throne room, wearing a three-piece black suit. Thought he owned this place, did he?
I crossed my arms. “Love the makeover. The room has so much more space now. How much do we owe you?”
“Who are you?” Roman asked behind me.
“That’s Anubis, God of the Dead,” I told him.
“The name is Inepu,” Anapa said. It sounded midway between Anapa and Enahpah. “The Greeks didn’t bother to pronounce it properly. I always found them very close-minded. Don’t follow their suit, you’re better than that.”
“You aren’t a god,” Roman said. “Gods can’t walk the Earth. Don’t have enough juice.” He turned to me and Raphael. “Trust me, I’ve tried to summon one.”
“Why the hell would you summon a god?” Raphael asked.
“He was trying to kill his cousin,” Anapa said.
“That was a long time ago.” Roman waved his hand.
Anapa’s lips curved, and he smiled a bright genuine smile, suffused with humor. “No, that was last May.”
“Like I said, a long time ago,” Roman said.
Anapa laughed and pointed his finger at Roman. “I like you.”
“Are you a god?” Raphael asked.
Anapa waved his hand. “Yes and no. The answer is complicated.”
Right, we were too stupid to understand it. “I’m sure we can scrape enough brain cells together between the three of us. Indulge us.”
“There is no need for such hostility, Andrea Marie. I’m not your enemy. Well, not yet.”
So he knew my middle name. So what.
Anapa shrugged. “I suppose I will explain this to you, so you will stop wondering about it. We have important subjects to discuss and I’ll need your full attention. When magic began to fade from the world, I took a mortal form and fathered a child, pouring all my essence into it. Then I fell asleep. My child in turn had a child, and he had a child, and on and on, my lineage stretched throughout time, until the returning magic awoke me. As I became aware, I hovered on the verge of existence until my descendant decided to do as most men do and bred with a charming woman. I called to my essence within the bloodline and merged with the beginning life during the moment of conception. In a sense, I fathered myself into being. You could say I am an avatar. Neat trick, huh?” He winked at us.
The human part of him kept him alive during the tech. That also meant he was weak while the magic was gone. Weak was good. “I thought you’d look more Egyptian,” I told him.
“And how do you think the original Egyptians looked?” Anapa raised his eyebrows. “What do you know of us? Were you there at the birth of the glory that was Egypt? Were you there to watch as we mixed with Nubians, Hittites, Libyans, Assyrians, Persians, and Greeks, you dumb little puppy? Colors, pigments, texture of skin and hair, those things are mere glaze. The vessel underneath is always clay.”
This was above my pay grade. “Roman?”
“He might be a nut job,” Roman said. “If he’s telling the truth, he isn’t at full strength.”
Anapa sighed. “So tiresome. Very well.”
Wind swept through the office, streaming from behind Anapa—hot, heavy with moisture, streaked with decay, the odor of spiced wine, and heady aromas of resins. The flames bent away from Anapa. A jackal howled, a long eerie wail that gripped my throat in a ghostly fist and squeezed.
The man on the chair leaned forward. A translucent outline shimmered along his skin, expanded, and a different creature sat in Anapa’s place. He was tall, long-limbed, and lean. A network of muscle bound his torso, crisply defined, but far from bulky. His skin was a warm, rich brown with a touch of terra-cotta. His face with its wide brown eyes was beautiful, but it wasn’t the kind of beauty you wanted to touch—it radiated too much power, too much regal disdain. As he looked at us, the contours of his head flowed like molten wax. His nose and jaw protruded forward and narrowed to a dark nose. Two long ears thrust up. Black and gray fur sheathed his face. The flash of white fangs in his mouth was like lightning.