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Re's Curse

Written By: Kadian Tracey
Published by: Devine Destinies
ISBN #:978-1-55487-714-0
Series: Shadowcat # 1
Word Count:15000
Page Count: 60
Heat Level:
Price: $2.99
Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Palm DOC/iSolo, Microsoft Reader, Hiebook, HTML, Mobipocket, Rocket, Epub, Sony PDF, Sony LRF

    "Er--I'm looking for Re Hamadi," she told him.
    
    He peered at her with an arched eyebrow, "You're lookin' for Re." It was a statement on his part rather than a question. "Now why would a pretty little thing like you be lookin' for an old dog like him?"
    
    Chelsea blinked at him blankly for a brief moment before hauling in an impatient breath, "Yes. That's what I said. Is he here or not?"
    
    The bartender shook his head and pointed to a man at the far end of the bar. He was looking up pensively at the television screen just across him.
    
    'Thanks," she spat, tugging at the hem of her suit jacket. Lifting her chin, she walked over to him and cleared her throat. He didn't turn and once again, she cleared her throat. "You Re?"
    
    "Depends on who's askin'," he still stared at the screen. "Ah come on, Ump! What was that!" he tossed his hands up before turning on his stool to face her.
    
    He lounged backward with his elbows against the bar, a glass in one hand.
    
    She bit back a gasp and tried to hide the stunned look on her face. He was absolutely breathtaking. His green eyes darkened at her.
    
    He shoved long fingers through his long hair that had fallen into his face when he looked slightly down at her.
    
    She took a reflexive step backward. "I'm Dr. Chelsea Morrigan," she told him. "I need to talk to you."
    
    "Doctor, is it?" his voice was a slightly husky whisper.
    
    There was a hint of an accent now--one she couldn't quite place. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a long swig.
    
    "Never did like that term. Well, I guess since you won't be telling me to turn my head and cough, it should be alright. What's on your mind?"
    
    "Can we talk somewhere else?" she wanted to know, shivering slightly. "We kinda need quiet."
    
    His kissable lips tugged upward slightly at one corner and his eyes narrowed, "Lady, you don't need quiet to take advantage of this body. I'd give it to you anywhere."
    
    Heat danced around Chelsea's cheeks. She could see him doing just that, too--on the hood of her car, against a wall, bent over the rail on a balcony--but she couldn't lose her head. She lifted her chin even higher, "That's not what I want to talk to you about. I just need about ten minutes of your time."
    
    His eyes bore into her, his face expressionless and it felt like he stared at her for an eternity. Finally he slipped from the stool and dug in his pockets. Slamming money on the counter, he placed his glass atop it just before the long, black coat he wore flopped about his ankles. He glanced at the screen again and for a moment she thought he would send her away to watch his game.
    
    "Alright we can talk outside," he told her. "That's the best I can do."
    
    Chelsea nodded and turned for the door with a few of the bar's patrons whistling at her.
    
    "Knock it off!" Re's voice thundered and instantly the men turned once more to whatever it was they had been doing.
    
    She hurried through the doors and once fresh air hit her face, she inhaled greedily. Re found her with her face tilted upward, her eyes closed, hauling in air.
    
    "What is it that was so damned important that you have to take me away from my game?"
    
    "Your team was losing anyway," Chelsea's chin lifted.
    
    "Well, you're taking me away from precious yelling at the screen time."
    
    "Like I said, I'm Doctor Morrigan, an archaeologist--"
    
    "Oh boy. I already don't like this conversation."
    
    "Why is that?"
    
    "Archaeologists have a damn nasty habit of sticking their noses where it doesn't belong--digging up things that should have been left buried--want me to continue?"
    
    Chelsea groaned, wondering if she had made the right decision coming to find this man. Her mentor told her if anyone could help her find the book and not get killed in the process it was Re. With that thought, she reined in her temper and folded her arms across her chest, "My team and I were in Cairo last month at this dig. We were only allowed in if we showed them everything we found. But, ah--"
    
    "You took something you shouldn't have and you didn't show it to them. Okay, look, lady, this would go a lot smoother and faster if you told me what you took and where it is."
    
    Chelsea wanted to cry, "We took a book--"
    
    He chuckled, but the mirth didn't reach his eyes. It was more of a sound of disbelief than a chuckle really, "What book?"
    
    "Of Secrets--"
    
    "The only book of secrets that I know that has anything to do with Egyptians is the--no one is that stupid!"
    
    "Yes, but we didn't know how to open it. I was going to study it and bring it right back."
    
    "So it was you?"
    
    "You know about the stolen book?"
    
    "Lady, there are very few things happening to the Bubasti that I don't know about. Where is the book now?"
    
    "It was stolen--I don't know how it happened because it was under lock and key and I had the only key to it, but it's gone."
    
    "You have got--" he stopped and sniffed.
    
    Chelsea looked at him, wondering what grown man ever did that. He turned his head, his long hair dancing with his movement. She felt a little paranoid at him looking around and glanced over her shoulders before eying him, "You alright?"
    
    "Do you have a number I can reach you?"
    
    "Yes, why?"
    
    He held out his hand.
    
    Chelsea dug through her purse for a business card. She dropped it in his large palm.
    
    "Now get in your car and go," he told her. His voice was calm with a hint of ice to it.
    
    "Why?"
    
    "Go now!"
    
    Fear gripped her insides as she remembered what Chance had told her. She turned toward her vehicle. She was halfway to it when she saw him reach beneath his coat and pulled out what resembled a short staff. She wondered where that was before for she hadn't seen it while they were inside the pub. He did something and the staff instantly elongated. As she sped away, Chelsea glanced into her mirror and could have sworn she saw a rather large animal, leap from the dark at Re.

    Dr. Chelsea Morgan and her team of archaeologists did a bad thing. Now it has come back to haunt her. In order to rectify the situation, she is told of a man name Re Hamadi who should be able to help her. When she finally finds Re at his favorite haunt, she is instantly taken by him, but Re is more of a pain in the butt than anything else. Then just when she makes up her mind to hate him, things start popping out of the dark--things that fairytales and nightmares are made of. Re Hamadi has finally settled into his hell of a cursed life. He has managed, for centuries, to stay ahead of his very own people who are hunting him. Then in one night, with one dumb thing, Dr. Chelsea Morgan brings the Bubasti and the followers of Set right back into his life. But what's a man to do when one kiss boils his blood?

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