Read Online Immortal Dynasty by Lynda Haviland - Free Book Online

here with…her?” The dark one whispered. “What do I do with her?”
    “Clothes would be a great start. Find something that will cover her up.” The tall one gestured towards her bare chest. He looked square into her eyes. “You. Stay.” He pointed to the long chair before striding out of the room.
    She glared at his retreating back. No human had ever dared to talk to her in such a manner. It was she who commanded them, not the other way around.
    She did not move while the men were gone. She just looked. Much time had gone by, as nothing around her looked normal. She knew not where here was or if she had reached the right time.
    My knife! Suddenly, she felt around her waist. Her knife was gone. The adrenaline that had flown through her and given energy to her body now ebbed away. The fangs recoiled into their sheath. Then, her knees buckled under her own weight. She sank limply to the floor.
    Shaila mentally cursed her body for its weakness. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment that she had to rely on the tall one to return and assist her. He lifted her up with muscles unfettered by the bondage of time. She hated this feeling of feebleness, as he carried her in his strong arms. Jealousy prickled her spirit.
    He arranged her on the long chair next to the little table. The savory aroma tempted her again. Her eyes locked on the little sticks poking out of the red papyrus. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. Suddenly, the sticks were right in front of her face.
    “French fries.”
    She looked up into warm gold-brown eyes. If not for the temptation so close to her mouth, she would have studied his eyes a bit more deeply. Instead, she slowly placed one stick on her tongue. She had no idea what it was, but it was divine. She could not get the rest into her mouth fast enough.
    Shaila ignored the laughter. She wanted more. But the man just shook his head and had an apologetic look on his face. Leaning forward, she grabbed every piece of papyrus on the table. She growled with frustration at finding them all empty.
    She was about to lick the salt off the red papyrus when the dark one came back. He carried a shiny black cloth. As he draped the long robe around her shoulders, a faint scent tickled her nose. The robe smelled like smoked apples.
    The tall one held a flat papyrus in his hand, and paced back and forth. He kept looking at her with a questioning look. She could see his energy aura was strong and cunning, but it was also restless. She detected pain as well. She already knew from his order and his stance that he was commanding as well, like a pharaoh. Shaila understood human kings, having worked with many of them.
      “Are--” She coughed, a small cloud of dust came up from her lungs. She had heard and felt the rhythms of conversation for so long, she knew basically what was being said around her. But the effort of speaking felt raw on her throat. “Are you pharaoh?”
    He finally stopped pacing and laughed. “Me? No. My name is Darius Alexander. And this is Marcus Damato.” He point to the dark-haired man.
    “Darius. Marcus.” Her voice croaked. She mentally focused on healing the rawness in her throat. “Strong names.”
    “You speak English?” The tall one seemed pleased.
    She scrunched her nose and nodded her head slightly. She stood up, tall and proud like a warrior. “I am Shaila a’k’Hemet.”
    The dark-haired one, Marcus, looked down at the papyrus spread across the table. “I thought you were the goddess Sekhmet?”
    She smirked with distaste at the pronunciation. “Humans found that better to say.”
    “But you were an Egyptian goddess?” Marcus had much curiosity in him. She liked that.
    She shrugged. “I am Anunnaki.”
    The tall one, Darius, seemed unimpressed. In fact, he went back to his pacing, reading the papyrus he held in his hands. Had this human really just dismissed her so casually?
    “They also called me the Mistress of Dread and the Lady of Slaughter .” She tilted her head