❝you know, you're pretty cute, considering you're 4,000 years old.❞
❝thank you?❞
luna clair loves museums. she loves history, mythology, all that old shit. so when her best friend's dad gets a new job as the night guard of the new york national hist...
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
❝The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.❞
Jean Ingelow
✦✧✦
Luna Clair is an intelligent girl. She's been top of her class since the first grade (in kindergarten, dear reader, she was too busy reading The Boxcar Children to care about assignments), got a full ride scholarship to GWU without much effort, and likes to read and study for fun, much to Nicky's astonishment.
But even she can't decode the look that Ahkmenrah's giving Kahmunrah. It's a mixture of hatred, shock, disappointment, and another emotion that is unidentifiable. Maybe it doesn't have a name. Luna realizes all too late that it's the sadness that comes from a boy disappointed in the older brother he always wanted but never had.
And furthermore, she's confused beyond belief at this prophecy thing. Khonsu's child... The healer and king... Selfless love... None of it makes sense, none at all. She's supposed to be in this prophecy, and she doesn't even understand it!
"Oh, I'm sorry, do you not like that story?" Kahmunrah pretends to be shocked. "Is it because it involves your naïve little girlfriend? Or is it because you might--?"
"Enough!" Ahkmenrah uses his pharaoh voice, and Luna has to admit, it's hot.
"Don't tell me what to do, little brother," Kahmunrah spits.
Ahkmenrah pulls Luna closer to him, and she leans her head on his shoulder, the touch of his skin against hers familiar, comforting, the press of his palm safe and protective.
And they wait.
They wait and wait. Occasionally Jed makes a sarcastic comment, sinking deeper and deeper into the sand, and Kahmunrah shakes his hourglass warningly, but other than that, the silence is deafening. Luna bounces her leg restlessly, wondering where Larry, Nicky, and Amelia are. If they're safe. If they're okay.
And then her phone buzzes in her pocket.
Ahkmenrah watches curiously as she pulls it out and looks at the screen. It's a text from Nicky.
Hang tight. On our way.
Luna exhales a long sigh of relief and shows the text to Ahkmenrah, who utters a quiet, "Thank the gods," and presses a lingering kiss to her temple. The butterflies in her stomach, who've chilled out with handholding, rear their heads at his touch.
"What?" Kahmunrah peers over at them, specifically at Luna's phone. "What is that strange box?"
"Welcome to the 21st century, dude." Luna waves her phone at him. "It's called an iPhone. My friend just texted me."
