CHAPTER 18
Leila eyed the barrel of the gun as a bead of sweat slid down her temple. How on earth did Bastet get here? She was supposed to be searching for Soliman with Montu. But the look of rage on Bastet’s face told Leila she was here for blood. She would shoot, and she wouldn’t be sorry.
“Bastet,” Leila croaked. “Why—”
“You’re a traitor,” Bastet spat, her dark eyes full of fury. Her glossy hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and she wore the usual black clothing, with not a speck of dust blemishing them. “You and Drake.”
With her gaze locked on Bastet’s weapon, Leila shook her head. “I’m not. I haven’t turned against you. I’m trying to help.”
“You know the punishment for breaking the oath,” Bastet growled, her fingers flexing on the gun handle.
“You can put the gun down,” Xander said, his voice a practiced calm. He took a careful step forward. “Leila kept her oath. She never said a word.”
Leila pressed her lips together, unable to miss the sting in Xander’s voice.
“I didn’t ask you,” Bastet snapped, her mouth curling into a sneer. She aimed her gun at Xander’s feet. A bang ripped through the chamber and the three of them ducked as the bullet ricocheted off the stone floor. “Get back.”
Slowly walking backward, Xander returned to his spot behind Leila.
“What is this all about?” Drake demanded. “How are you even here?”
Bastet prowled down the shelving unit until she stood just an arm’s reach away from Leila. A smug smile twitched on the woman’s face. “I’m no stranger to your tricks, Drake. And I have a few of my own.” She held her hand out toward Leila. “Give me the scroll.”
Leila swallowed. She had no problem giving the paper to Bastet. She was just worried about the way Bastet would react when she realized it wasn’t the actual scroll.
“Fine,” Leila said, hoping she sounded confident as she held up the paper. “Take it.”
Bastet snatched it from her hand. Without removing her gaze from Leila, she stuffed the paper into her pocket. Leila narrowed her eyes. The woman didn’t even look at it. A Medjay shouldn’t be treating a supposed antiquity like that. Unless Bastet already knew it wasn’t the real deal.
“You’ll give me your seal too,” Bastet snarled.
Glaring at Bastet, Leila pulled the string over her head and held it out, the bone pendant dangling pitiably. Bastet had no right to demand the seal, but faced with the gun, Leila had no choice. It wasn’t worth getting shot over. Bastet swiped it from her hand.
“You got what you wanted. Now go,” Xander suggested, his fingers twitching at his side. Leila knew he was itching to grab his gun.
“Did your darling Montu send you?” Drake sneered.
“I was ordered to follow your every move.” Bastet narrowed her eyes. “He was right not to trust you.”
Drake’s expression darkened. “He’s not the leader.”
“Soliman is missing. Someone has to give orders to stop traitors like you.” Bastet backed down the shelving unit, gun still pointing in their direction. Her gaze darted between Leila and Drake as her finger slid over the trigger. “And if a bullet is the only way to stop you, then so—”
Xander whipped out his gun. Bangs echoed in the chamber, bullets tearing overhead. Leila screamed and ducked. Clenching her eyes shut, she hit the floor with a grunt. Three more shots rang out, then everything went silent. Leila pressed herself into the floor, trying to see through the darkness where Xander had been standing. The chamber was pitch-black, their flashlights having shut off at some point during the exchange.
“Xander?” Leila whispered, her voice broken.
Oh, please let him be okay.
“Here,” he said. “You all right?”
She released a breath of relief. Her arm, which had broken her fall, throbbed, but it was hardly worth mentioning. She stretched her fingers as she sat up, making sure nothing was broken. “I’m okay. Drake?”
“I’m fine.”
Leila fumbled in the dark for the flashlight. She finally found it a few feet away and clicked it on. Squinting against the brightness, she pointed the beam in Xander’s direction. He and Drake stood at the end of the bookshelf, where Bastet had been, peering around the corner.
The Medjay groaned in turn, though Leila couldn’t see her. “My leg. You shot my leg.”
Leila couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for Bastet. The woman would have shot any of them if they hadn’t been so cooperative.
A low rumble came from the depths of the cave. They all fell silent, except for the sound of Bastet’s heavy breathing.
“Was that thunder?” Leila whispered. Would they be able to hear that all the way down here?
Xander glanced up at the ceiling. “Something hit my head.”
Drake waved at Leila, gesturing for her to stand. “We need to get out of here.”
Leila pushed herself to her feet as another rumble shook the chamber. Xander grabbed Leila’s upper arm and pushed her toward the door. They staggered past Bastet, who lay in the aisle, clutching her bloody leg. The entire cave trembled, rubble crumbling from the ceiling.
Xander kept pushing, forcing Leila to run past the shelves and into the corridor. She threw a glance over her shoulder—Drake was right behind them. Bastet still struggled to stand up, using the wall for support. Her pained gaze anchored on Leila, begging for help.
“Wait—” Leila stopped, whirled around, and pushed past Xander, heading back to the archive.
The cave shook violently, and Leila stumbled forward.
“Stop!” Xander grabbed her arm again and she jolted to a halt.
