Read Online Lord of the Silent: A Novel of Suspense by Elizabeth Peters - Free Book Online Page A

had become accustomed to Nefret's turning up in places where she wasn't supposed to be. Like her mother-in-law, who had been doing the same thing for years, she was in a special category, obviously a woman but commanding the same respect as a man. He couldn't have said what alerted him. It might have been a flicker of surreptitious movement at the door, where the curtain was tied back to admit air into the smoke-filled room. It might have been that odd sixth sense, the feeling that someone was watching him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, but when he looked directly at the doorway, no one was there. Nefret passed him the stem of the pipe. "What's wrong?" she asked softly. "Nothing." Meeting her unblinking blue gaze, he acknowledged her right to a truthful answer. "Nothing I can put my finger on. Are you ready to go?" The night air, though laden with the ineffable stenches of Cairo, was cool and comparatively clear. Beyond the light from the doorway behind them, the street was a tunnel of darkness. They were only a quarter of a mile from the square where they could expect to find a cab, and he knew every twist and turn of the path, but a quarter of a mile is a long way in the dark when your skin is prickling. He reached into his pocket. "Take the torch, but don't switch it on yet." "Right." She smiled back at him. Her eyes were sparkling. Of all the people in the universe she was the last one he would have wanted with him if there was going to be trouble, but what an ally she was-quick and unafraid and unrestrained by silly notions of fair play. He didn't have to tell her not to hang on to his arm. She wasn't the clinging kind. Neither of them was carrying a weapon. He cursed himself for overconfidence, but who would have supposed they'd encounter trouble so soon? It was there, waiting in the dark; he could feel it like a knife blade pricking his skin. Nefret felt it too-or was it, she wondered, only her intense awareness of his mood? She let him lead the way; he knew the alleys of Cairo better than she, and if there was danger it could come from behind as well as before them. Her hand light on his shoulder, she stepped softly, every sense alert for a sound or movement. He heard it before she did. He turned on his heel and pushed her behind him, pinning her against the wall with an arm as hard as a steel bar. Cursing breathlessly, she switched on the torch. What she saw almost made her drop it. The face was that of a monster or a demon, the only visible features a pair of glittering eyes, inhuman and enormous as those of a magnified insect. The light shivered along the blade of a knife-it had to be a knife, though she could not see the hand that held it. She saw it descend, saw her husband's arm lift to block the blow-but he moved without his usual quickness and he made no other move to defend or attack. The sleeve of his coat darkened. Blood ran down his hand and dripped onto the ground. Nefret remained motionless and silent, though her vocal cords and every muscle in her body protested. It went against all her instincts to be a passive observer, but she was trying to control her impetuosity, which had led to considerable trouble in the past. Ramses could have easily stopped the attacker before he struck; she'd seen him do it with fighters much more skilled than this one appeared to be. After a few interminable seconds, the apparition let out a strange moaning cry and vanished. Ramses went after it. Gritting her teeth, Nefret remained where she was, turning the beam of the torch so that it framed the two figures. Ramses had the man in a firm grip. Only a man, after all; his dark clothing had made him virtually invisible, and the eerie eyes were glasses, reflecting the light of the torch. "It's all right," her husband said, and although he spoke English she knew he wasn't talking to her. "It's all right. You've done the job. Give me the knife." The scarf that had masked the lower part of the man's face had slipped,