The bed was warm, the food was perfect, and for a few stolen moments, nothing else in the universe mattered. I sprawled across the foot of the bed with my coffee in hand, shirt crooked, hair deliciously wild from sleep. Annie was curled up with French toast, looking unfairly radiant for someone who had just woken up. I let the silence linger before I dropped it on her. "Annie, little mouse," I drawled, velvet smooth, "I have to attend Luxor's birthday party today."
She froze mid-bite, eyes narrowing in immediate suspicion. Gods, I loved that expression. "And you are telling me this… why?"
I smirked into my mug. "Because I would love for you to come with me." I shrugged, all lazy nonchalance, even though I was watching her like a hawk. "But you don't have to."
Her head tilted, sharp and skeptical. "What kind of party is it? And what are you not telling me?"
I sat up, warming to the subject already. "Only the most absurd, extravagant, blinding event of the century. Luxor, darling golden boy that he is, does nothing halfway. His realm is all golden sands and pyramids and temples. Mirror-lined halls, marble everything, and a sky that never quite darkens. Like the sun is always just hovering, waiting to kiss you blind."
I gestured grandly, coffee sloshing. "There will be fireworks in geometric patterns, lasers everywhere, light shows that could sear your retinas if you blink at the wrong time. Fire dancers. Floating lanterns. Music that rattles your bones and convinces you your ancestors are trying to join in."
Annie just blinked at me. "But!" I added, grinning, leaning in. "The best part? The puzzles. You know Luxor, intellectual pride incarnate. He'll scatter puzzle rooms all over his waterfront temples. Solve one, and you win a prize. Could be a treasure, a divine artifact, maybe even a favor."
Her eyes narrowed to slits. "So it's… a rave at the Louvre. With homework."
I beamed. "Exactly."
She stared at me, unimpressed, then took the slowest possible sip of her coffee. Torture."And what happens if I go?"
"Well." I stretched like the smug bastard I am. "You get to walk in on the arm of a devastatingly handsome god. You will be stared at, admired, envied, and whispered about until the next century. And—" my voice dipped low, silk and sin, "—you will get to watch me suffer through socializing with people I mostly hate. Which is, let's be honest, worth the price of admission alone."
Her lips twitched. She sipped again. "Tempting."
I leaned back, grinning like the cat that had just devoured the cream. "So… what do you say, my little sand snack?"
She set her cup down very deliberately, already regretting what I knew she was about to say."Fine," she sighed. "I'll go. But what are you going to wear?"
Ah, the moment I'd been waiting for. My grin turned wicked, lethal."Oh, Annie," I purred, standing with all the elegance of a showman taking the stage, "the theme this year is Ancient Egypt. So… head cover, neck cover, bracers, kilt. The works."
She blinked at me. Flat. Unamused. "No."
I raised a hand and snapped my fingers. With a flourish of magic, I let my form shimmer and shift, clothes vanishing in a blaze of gold light. When it faded, I stood proudly, barefoot, chest gleaming with the faintest sheen of oil, a regal collar of polished stones over my shoulders, thick bracers circling my arms, and a golden kilt wrapped flawlessly around my waist. A headpiece gleamed in my hair, and thick black liner sharpened my eyes into works of art. I turned, posing with all the elegance of a god who knew he looked divine. Annie made a strangled sound. Then burst out laughing.
"Oh gods below," she wheezed. "Absolutely not."
I arched a brow, posing harder. "This is authentic, darling. Cultural accuracy. I was there, you know. Ancient Egypt? Wonderful aesthetic. Very dramatic. A+."
"You look like you belong on the cover of Pharaohs Gone Wild," she said, nearly doubled over.
"And yet," I purred, striking another pose, "you cannot look away. You're welcome."
She covered her face, still laughing. "I cannot believe I agreed to this."
"Oh, Annie, Lotus Blossom," I said, winking, sending a tiny beam of light from the corner of my eye, "you haven't even seen the eyeliner sparkle under fireworks yet. The gods aren't ready." She waved me off and left the room. I reclined back, sipping wine like the picture of composure, though I was already imagining how exquisite she'd look.
After a while, she walked back in. My jaw actually dropped. Annie stood framed in the doorway, a vision pulled straight out of my wildest, most fevered dreams. White gossamer draped her body, sheer and shimmering, clinging in all the right places, leaving very little to the imagination. Gold paint dusted her skin so she glowed, jewelry glinted at her throat and wrists, and her wild, flame-streaked hair spilled in molten waves around a glittering headpiece. Her eyes, gods, her eyes, lined in dark kohl, sharp and dangerous enough to ruin me on the spot. I forgot how to breathe.
"Annie…" The word broke out of me, reverent. "My Queen of the Nile. My Pharaoh of Flame. My Cleopatra of Catastrophe, by all the gods, you are splendid."
Hand to my chest, I staggered a step closer. "I would wage wars for you. Build you pyramids. Sacrifice a thousand goats, no, a thousand Maximus worshippers!"
She raised one unimpressed brow. I pressed on, hopelessly lost. "More radiant than a solar eclipse over Giza. My Golden Horus of Hotness. My Bastet of Beauty. My Isis of Irresistibility!"
"You are ridiculous," she said, but her smile betrayed her.
I lowered my voice, thick with awe. "And yet you stand there dressed like sin itself. Say the word, Annie, and I'll start carving a sphinx in your image right now."
She spun, slow and deliberate, the fabric flaring around her thighs. I whimpered. Audibly. Gods help me. "Annie-Amon-Ra," I groaned, clutching my chest, "I am undone. Slain. Brought low by sheer perfection."
She rolled her eyes and swept past me. Naturally, I followed, trailing behind her like the most devoted servant a queen had ever possessed. "You're not just hot, you're hieroglyphic. Mysterious. Sacred. Probably should be worshiped." She snorted. "Keep it up, and I'll throw you to the crocodiles."
I grinned, helplessly smitten. "Oooh, my Sekhmet of Sass! You wound me with your threats, but please, wound me again." So we went, Annie, radiant and blazing like a goddess reborn, and me, a kilt-clad disaster, already too far gone to care.