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Authors: Kristi Charish
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since then.”
He ran his hand through his hair, accidently knocking his black-rimmed glasses to the side. “And there you go again with the excuses. Why can’t you—for once, that’s all I’m asking here—admit you might be partially responsible?”
See, now this is the problem I have with the IAA. No allowances for the supernatural . . . Put your neck out to save the world and what happens? A temple was partially destroyed—which, for the record, I wasn’t happy about. If the resident Naga hadn’t taken issue . . . Oh why the hell do I even bother. “Fine. I was somewhat responsible for ruining a temple. But you intentionally sold me to a pack of goddamn vampires!”
Benji glared. “OK, like I said, it was an honest mistake— which I’m trying to make right—and you did strong-arm me into getting you into the dig site in the first place.”
“Strong-arm?”
“Yeah! Strong - arm . You know, holding something over a person’s head indefinitely .”
“No, I mean what were you? Born in the 1950s? And what the hell do you expect? The entire batch of you treat me like I’m some kind of goddamn leper!”
I expected an argument. I’ve been in the game long enough to know how to deal with reluctant archaeology accomplices like Benji. I didn’t expect the color to drain from his face. I think that was worse—like validation.
All of a sudden I really didn’t feel like talking to Benji.
He did though. “Look, I would have warned you ahead, but after Bali they started watching everyone’s communications—and not just because of you—”
I lowered my head and glanced at Benji from under my eyebrows.
“OK, well, partly because of you, but mostly because of Bindi. No one saw that coming. Including her and Mark, they’re down, like, seven archaeologists in one year.”
I heard voices coming from the catacomb entrance, so I dragged Benji farther into the shadows. “That still doesn’t come close to explaining how the hell you ended up here.”
“It wasn’t out of my way. I was transferred to Cairo a few months back, and when the IAA chatter about Serena started, I figured it might be you and got myself attached to the dig. It wasn’t hard,” Benji added, pushing my arm off and standing up straight. “You have a lousy habit of trashing places. They were more than happy for another set of hands—”
“Do not.”
Benji snorted. “Did you see what those stones did to the floor? Did you plan on setting off a few traps, or did that just happen while you were ramming—”
I motioned for him to keep his voice down. “I had to improvise—and the psychopathic mummy came after me.”
“Look, I’d have tried warning you earlier, but they’ve been tight-lipped about things.” He looked more tired as he said it. I got the sinking suspicion the IAA was tight-lipped on everything after Bindi and Red. Losing archaeologists because they get eaten is one thing, but having them jump physiological sides with IAA secrets?
“You won’t break their perimeter on your own, but my partner is indisposed this morning, and they’ll let me by,” he said as he handed me a plastic bag containing the same robes and scarf he wore.
I stared at them, then back at him. To say Benji didn’t exactly look friendly was putting it mildly. If he thought for one second I believed he was going to help me slip the IAA out of the goodness of his heart . . .
“You know, I’ve got a fantastic bag of magic beans in my pocket I can sell you, they’ll grow a beanstalk and everything—”
“Oh will you knock it off! I’m trying to help you—”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got a fucking conscience and I’m having trouble sleeping, all right!”
“So, just so we’re totally straight here—I’m helping you feel better about yourself?”
He shoved the bag back at me. “Just put it on before one of the guards grows a work ethic and actually patrols the back of the building.”
I grabbed Benji’s
He ran his hand through his hair, accidently knocking his black-rimmed glasses to the side. “And there you go again with the excuses. Why can’t you—for once, that’s all I’m asking here—admit you might be partially responsible?”
See, now this is the problem I have with the IAA. No allowances for the supernatural . . . Put your neck out to save the world and what happens? A temple was partially destroyed—which, for the record, I wasn’t happy about. If the resident Naga hadn’t taken issue . . . Oh why the hell do I even bother. “Fine. I was somewhat responsible for ruining a temple. But you intentionally sold me to a pack of goddamn vampires!”
Benji glared. “OK, like I said, it was an honest mistake— which I’m trying to make right—and you did strong-arm me into getting you into the dig site in the first place.”
“Strong-arm?”
“Yeah! Strong - arm . You know, holding something over a person’s head indefinitely .”
“No, I mean what were you? Born in the 1950s? And what the hell do you expect? The entire batch of you treat me like I’m some kind of goddamn leper!”
I expected an argument. I’ve been in the game long enough to know how to deal with reluctant archaeology accomplices like Benji. I didn’t expect the color to drain from his face. I think that was worse—like validation.
All of a sudden I really didn’t feel like talking to Benji.
He did though. “Look, I would have warned you ahead, but after Bali they started watching everyone’s communications—and not just because of you—”
I lowered my head and glanced at Benji from under my eyebrows.
“OK, well, partly because of you, but mostly because of Bindi. No one saw that coming. Including her and Mark, they’re down, like, seven archaeologists in one year.”
I heard voices coming from the catacomb entrance, so I dragged Benji farther into the shadows. “That still doesn’t come close to explaining how the hell you ended up here.”
“It wasn’t out of my way. I was transferred to Cairo a few months back, and when the IAA chatter about Serena started, I figured it might be you and got myself attached to the dig. It wasn’t hard,” Benji added, pushing my arm off and standing up straight. “You have a lousy habit of trashing places. They were more than happy for another set of hands—”
“Do not.”
Benji snorted. “Did you see what those stones did to the floor? Did you plan on setting off a few traps, or did that just happen while you were ramming—”
I motioned for him to keep his voice down. “I had to improvise—and the psychopathic mummy came after me.”
“Look, I’d have tried warning you earlier, but they’ve been tight-lipped about things.” He looked more tired as he said it. I got the sinking suspicion the IAA was tight-lipped on everything after Bindi and Red. Losing archaeologists because they get eaten is one thing, but having them jump physiological sides with IAA secrets?
“You won’t break their perimeter on your own, but my partner is indisposed this morning, and they’ll let me by,” he said as he handed me a plastic bag containing the same robes and scarf he wore.
I stared at them, then back at him. To say Benji didn’t exactly look friendly was putting it mildly. If he thought for one second I believed he was going to help me slip the IAA out of the goodness of his heart . . .
“You know, I’ve got a fantastic bag of magic beans in my pocket I can sell you, they’ll grow a beanstalk and everything—”
“Oh will you knock it off! I’m trying to help you—”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got a fucking conscience and I’m having trouble sleeping, all right!”
“So, just so we’re totally straight here—I’m helping you feel better about yourself?”
He shoved the bag back at me. “Just put it on before one of the guards grows a work ethic and actually patrols the back of the building.”
I grabbed Benji’s
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