42. Luna

42

"Are you freaking kidding me? No way am I getting in there."

The four of us were standing in the bathing chamber. Michelle and Kacie were wearing tunics and pants that reminded me of beauty therapists at a spa, plus Crocs. Crocs! The indignity. At least Mark Antony had taken Kacie's chain off. Not Michelle's—a point that irked her to no end—but he had at least made hers longer. Now she could reach most parts of the house, noisily.

I was wearing a gold bikini.

"I'll admit, I didn't think it would smell this bad."

"Seriously? It's rancid milk. How did you not realise it would stink?" I asked as Michelle gagged.

When he told me he had a special surprise, my mind had cycled through everything from more jewellery to a pet camel to a cream-topped disco stick. Not gonna lie, I'd nearly puked at the thought of the last one. It was fun when Ryder did it, but this douche? Yeuch. Not once had a reeking milk bath struck me as a possibility.

"Google didn't mention the smell. It just said that soured milk is better for your skin—something about lactic acid—and you used to love milk baths. It's recorded in several historical documents."

How could a man be smart and cunning enough to kidnap me from the Nile Palace, yet have the common sense of a sea sponge? I put my hands on my hips.

"What's wrong with my skin?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong with your skin, but you don't want to get wrinkles, do you?"

"I'd rather have skin like crepe paper than get into that tub. And what do you expect me to do with the honey?"

"I think you stir it in?" Mark Antony frowned, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. It didn't even feel that hot in the bathroom, although I was acclimated to Vegas. "Or maybe you just spread it over yourself?"

"And then what? I stick to everything?"

"I tried to tell him," Kacie whispered. He'd roped my "courtiers" into helping with his dumb-ass plan because microwaving pints of milk was beneath him.

"If you put the honey on first, you can wash it off with the milk."

"No."

"No?"

"Look, two thousand years ago, maybe bathing in milk was the thing to do, but we've moved on. Now you can go to Saks or Macy's or Nordstrom and buy bath bombs and essential oils. And did you forget I'm on my period?"

"That means you can't take a bath?"

"I don't want to sit in…you know. Can you rig up a milk shower?"

He sighed. "There are thirty pints of goat milk in there. Waste is a scourge on modern society."

"Okay, so you get in the tub."

"Me?"

"Don't you want soft, wrinkle-free skin?" He could also rinse off the sweat.

"Well, yes, but…"

I swallowed a giggle. Mark Antony thought it was a good idea to kidnap three women and bring them to live in his mountain hideaway? Big mistake. Huge. Plus he'd forgotten one crucial fact about Cleopatra, the last Queen of Egypt. She desired power above all things. And she ate generals for breakfast.

"It'll help with those little frown lines."

"What frown lines?"

"I get it. You've had a stressful week, and you deserve to relax. Kacie and Michelle can fan you with palm leaves while you bathe."

"Have you lost your mind?" Michelle asked. "Where we gonna get palm leaves?"

"From the potted plant in the sleeping chamber. Do I have to think of everything?" I turned back to my deranged "hubby." "C'mon, gladiator, put your money where your mouth is. I'll pour the honey over you."

He sucked in a breath. "Fine."

Ohmigosh, was he actually going to do it?

Mark Antony pulled his "I, for one, like Roman numerals" T-shirt over his head, and maybe if he'd spent less time abducting people and more time in the gym, his stomach would have looked more like Ryder's and less like an undercooked dinner roll. If I was served that in a restaurant, I'd send it back.

Next, he removed his jeans, revealing hairy legs and a large bandage where Rocky had bitten him, and when he moved to peel off his underwear, we all yelled, "No!" in unison.

"What?"

Michelle answered for the three of us. "Nobody wants to see your trouser snake."

"My trouser snake? I don't have one of those, only a California kingsnake, a green tree python, a boomslang, and a copperhead."

See? Zero common sense. And my half-sister accused me of being socially inept? At least I— Wait a second… Snakes?

"A copperhead? Aren't those, like, poisonous? Where is it?"

Tell me he's left it in Las Vegas.

"Poisonous? Goodness, no." Phew. "Carl is venomous."

"Isn't that basically the same thing?"

"Not at all. While they both involve toxins, a poison is?—"

"Where. Is. The. Copperhead?"

"There's no need to worry. He's in my study with the rest of the snakes and my Gila monster."

"Your what?"

"It's a type of lizard."

"How big is it?"

He held his hands a foot apart.

"Also venomous?"

"Not as venomous as some of the snakes."

Oh, great. As long as it was only going to kill me a little bit.

"Where's the study? Because I'm never, ever going in there."

"It's through the door by the big bookshelves, but I always keep it locked. Safety first. The lid on Hedera's vivarium is missing a clip at the moment, and she gets out sometimes. Nobody wants an accident, and your dog doesn't have the best judgment, does he?"

Rocky had excellent judgment, but I bit my tongue. Unlike some people, I knew how to be vaguely diplomatic.

"Marcus Antonius, are you climbing into the tub or not? That milk is getting cold."

Beside me, Michelle gave a quiet snort. "Keep your tighty-whities on."

As he stepped into the stinking pool, I noticed he winced as he knocked his foot on the edge of the bath. Good.

"Do you want me to drizzle the honey now?" I asked sweetly.

Kacie grabbed my arm. "No, let's get the palm leaves."

The three of us made it into the Egyptian wing before Kacie and I dissolved into laughter. I liked her. Last night, we'd made a pact that we'd leave this place together, no making a run for it alone, and it was a promise I intended to keep.

"His face," she choked out. "I can't believe you made him do that."

"Waste is a scourge on modern society," I mimicked.

"Did you see the lumps floating?"

"Like tiny cauliflowers. How the heck are we meant to cut palm leaves? Or can we snap them off?"

"He keeps the sharp knives hidden away, but there are scissors in the kitchen."

"Can't cut anyone's throat with scissors, now can we?"

Kacie stared at me. "You wouldn't?"

It was tempting. I mean, I'd missed two shows, and rescheduling in Vegas was a nightmare. But I'd already killed one and a half people this year, and that was enough.

"Blood gives me the ick."

"Nobody needs to kill him," Michelle said, and she looked brighter than I'd ever seen her. "Didn't you see his ankle? The temperature he's running? The way he's breathing faster? If he doesn't get medical attention, sepsis will take care of the problem for us."

"What?"

"A wound all pink and swollen like that? He needs antibiotics."

"Are you sure? Maybe he's just hot?"

"Why would he be hot? We're the ones who filled the damn bath with milk."

True.

"What happens if he doesn't get the antibiotics?"

She made a slashing motion across her throat. "Then we find the key to my chain and get out of here."

"So we just wait for him to die?"

"Exactly."

"How long will that take?"

"A day or two. Maybe three."

"Unless he gets to the hospital?"

"Right." She turned to face me head-on, and her eyes narrowed. "Girl, you are not thinking of telling him to go to the hospital."

Was I?

The man I'd killed in San Gallicano, he'd been actively trying to murder multiple people. I'd acted instinctively; it had been him or us. But this wasn't quite so clear-cut. Yes, Mark Antony had kidnapped me, and Kacie, and Michelle, but he hadn't hurt any of us. He was obviously insane, not to mention rude, and he needed a lifetime of therapy, but did he deserve a death sentence?

Was it right to stand by and watch him die?

When I was reading the story of Antony and Cleopatra, I'd learned about the weighing of the heart. The Ancient Egyptians believed that a person's heart recorded their actions in life, the good and the bad, kind of like karma points. After they died, their heart was weighed against the feather of truth and justice. If the heart was heavier than the feather, if it was full of bad deeds, their soul would be cast into darkness. If the scales balanced, their soul continued to the afterlife.

Where would my soul go?

Right now, the destination was up for debate. I hadn't lived the best life, but I wanted to change.

"You're a nurse—what happened to the Hippocratic oath?"

"I'm a nursing assistant, and nurses don't do that anyway."

"But didn't you sign up to help people?"

"Not fake Uber drivers who expect me to work as their slave. It's okay for you—you're not the one chained up."

"No, but I'm still stuck here with your sorry ass. And I told you, we're getting rescued."

Michelle just rolled her eyes.

"Maybe Michelle's wrong, and he'll get better," Kacie suggested.

"I'm not wrong. Why do you always think I'm wrong?"

"I'm just trying to keep positive."

"How is us staying here for longer a positive?"

"If he goes to the hospital, me and Luna can escape after he leaves and get help."

"What if he chains you up again, huh?"

Kacie bit her lip. She clearly hadn't thought of that. Plus he'd take the car, and no way was I walking through a bear-infested forest without Ryder and ten of his buddies at my side. But perhaps Mark Antony would get better? In my opinion, Michelle was mostly wrong.

"Get the scissors. We need to cut the stupid palm leaves."

For once, Michelle wasn't wrong. Mark Antony looked visibly sicker by dinner, and when he held my hand across the table, his skin was cold and clammy.

"I've been waiting for years to find the right woman to wear this necklace. It once belonged to a lady very dear to me. It's called a wedjat eye."

"Your mother? Did it belong to your mother?"

"My mother was…troubled." Guess it ran in the family. "A neighbour stepped in at a particularly difficult time in my life. She tutored me, gave me a place to stay, and taught me a lot about the past. It was she who painted the murals on the walls in the Egyptian wing."

The necklace glinted when the light hit it. "I recognise the design from the bracelet you sent me. The Eye of Horus?"

He looked pleased. "Yes, you remember. Although the bracelet was a modern trinket, and this is the real thing."

"Like, it's ancient?"

"Around three thousand years old."

Wow. It was a little scratched but in pretty good shape for something older than Jesus.

"It's cute."

"This is his healed eye, the one that was stolen by Seth and restored by Thoth. It symbolises the power of regeneration, and it protects whoever wears it."

"Uh, thanks?"

"Let me put it on you."

He stood, and I didn't miss his stiffness as he walked around the table or the way his hands trembled as he tried to open the catch. Screw it. He was quite mad, but not malicious. If I sat here for two days and watched him slowly die, probably in pain, then I was as bad as he was.

Hey, maybe I did have Stockholm syndrome after all?

But I also had morals.

"Are you okay?"

"I think I picked up a cold while I was in Las Vegas. So many sick people. Tourists would rather cough on others than waste a moment of their vacation."

"You're sure that's all it is? Your leg looked sore earlier."

"Your dog has sharp teeth."

"He's very sorry."

"It's a good thing I'm the forgiving type." Mark Antony hobbled back to his seat. "I should get an early night."

"Maybe you should get checked out at the hospital?"

"For a cold?"

"I meant the bite."

"That's really not necessary. I'm using honey. Its antibacterial properties are nothing short of miraculous, and it was the most popular drug in Ancient Egypt, did you know that? They also used it for embalming the dead."

So he was just getting a head start?

"But don't you think things have come on a bit since then, medicine-wise?"

"Yes, but sometimes the old remedies are the best. Although the big pharmaceutical companies will never tell you that, of course. They're all about building value for their shareholders." He offered a genuine smile. "But thank you for your concern, dimidium."

Well, I'd tried. My conscience was clear. It wasn't my fault if Mark Antony wouldn't listen.