but then she reached up and unfastened the chain around her neck. The tiny Isis pendant winked in the light as she moved to wrap it around his neck.
“Poppy,” he protested. “I cannot take this.”
“Isley cannot stand the symbol,” she said, putting it on him despite his objections. “I don’t know why, nor will I question it now.”
“All the more reason for you to wear it,” Winston countered, trying to take it off.
She stayed his hand with a touch. “Please, Win. You ask that we work together. Well, this will make me rest easy.”
Damn if he could object to that. Though he tried one last time. “It is a woman’s necklace, Pop.”
But she only smiled. “And it looks well around your manly neck.” He grinned back but her smile suddenly fell. On a ragged sigh, she burrowed against the crook of his neck. “I’m afraid, Win.”
He knew what it cost her to admit it. And so he held her secure and let his cheek rest on the silken crown of her head. “I am too, sweeting. But if we can survive this, we can survive anything.”
She kissed him then, a tender touch on his neck that cut into his heart with the precision of a sword. “I love you, Winston Hamon Belenus Lane.”
A simple declaration. And enough to make the whole of his life worth it. Should he die today, should everything fall apart, he had Poppy’s love. A better gift he did not know.
As soon as Poppy slipped into her bath, Win left her. The fragments of a plan had begun to take shape in his mind. But he needed help.
“I assume you’ve come up with a solution?” Archer said twenty minutes later, after he’d let both Winston and Ian into his personal library.
Winston looked up from the rolls of papyrus he’d laid out on the high examining table. His insides were in knots, and his muscles bunched with tension. It took all he had to focus on the present and not give in to the rage rolling within. Win gripped the back of his neck, and his aching muscles cried out in protest. “Not quite. Let us call it a start.”
He pulled out the item he’d hidden in his pocket and set it before the men.
“Poppy’s scarab.” Archer looked at the thing as if it might bite him.
Ian, however, laughed. “You nicked it from your wife? And here I thought you were a lawman.”
“That was your first mistake, Ranulf,” Win replied, “you thought.”
Archer snorted.
“Hilarious.” Ian folded his arms over his chest.
Win let his tight smile slip. “The truth is, I had to steal it. Isley watches Poppy. He’s admitted to it.”
“Christ.” Archer shook his head.
Win eyed them both. “Poppy cannot know my plans because he’ll know them. Which means whatever it is I do, I’ll have to keep her in the dark.” Knowing his wife as he did, the aftermath would not be pretty. By the looks on his friends’ faces, they understood that just as well. “Look,” he said to Archer, “you are the best reader of hieroglyphics I know. The only one, actually.”
“Which puts me in a prime position to help you.” Archer stopped alongside Winston and bent his head to survey the scrolls.
Ian strolled over to the table as well. “Good thinking, Lane. Archer adores compliments.”
Archer ignored them both in favor of the scroll. “Let us see…” His brow furrowed as he read. “This text refers to Apep.”
“Yes.” Winston moved closer. “He is said to be a demon of darkness and chaos.”
“Not a god, precisely,” said Archer, “as none worship him. He is more the thing to be feared, the great evil that good must smite.”
Win moved to stroke his mustache, only to remember that it was gone. Instead he ran a finger along the scar at his jawbone. It was smooth now, thanks to Archer’s neat stitching. “According to this text, Apep can hypnotize a person with his gaze. He is associated with serpents, thunderstorms, and earthquakes and is also known as the soul—”
Archer’s head snapped up, and his gaze narrowed on Win. “The eater of souls.”
The air grew still between them. Win leaned his hip against the table and watched Archer. “I know you are thinking of what you were becoming.” He glanced back at Archer and found him staring back. “Not all soul eaters are evil. I believe you know that too.”
With a scowl that said he’d rather not comment, Archer straightened and tapped a finger on the scrolls. “What is all