Page 86 of The Stolen Queen

“Shhh. Yes.”

“What do we do next? Call the police?”

“I don’t know how sympathetic an Egyptian policeman will be if they don’t understand the value of Egyptian antiquities. Heba might have local connections as well.”

“Do we call Omar?”

“Yes. I think that’s best.” Charlotte imagined Heba back in the shop, taking the statue out of the box, preparing to move it to a different location. Hopefully the tourists would keep her busy until Charlotte spoke to Omar.

Heba’s reaction was strange, though. She hadn’t seemed overly angry or overly protective, more annoyed that Charlotte had trespassed beyond the shop floor.

It was almost as if she didn’t know the value of what was in her back room. “Let’s go find a phone,” Charlotte said.

“I can wait here, in case she tries to leave,” Annie offered.

“No, we have to stick together. I don’t want to put you in danger.”

Charlotte had barely finished the sentence when a hand grabbed her roughly by the back of her neck, and then she was flying through the air, landing on some boxes deep in the alley. She hardly had timeto register what was going on before Annie was tossed on top of her, knocking the breath out of her lungs, the two of them flailing to get their bearings like a couple of beetles that had been turned onto their backs.

The air smelled of urine and rotting vegetables; the ground was slick with something wet and slimy. Charlotte’s heart jolted in her chest as she caught sight of a pair of khaki-covered legs heading their way. Annie rolled off her and Charlotte tried to stand, but before she could get her feet under her, a hand smacked her hard across the face, sending her flying back to the ground, the skin on her cheek burning. She wanted to curl into a ball, protect herself, but she couldn’t leave Annie exposed. They were trapped in an alley with a madman who clearly wanted to teach them a lesson, if not kill them. She threw her arms wide, trying to keep Annie safe beneath her.

The next time the man charged, Charlotte retracted one leg and kicked him hard. He cried out in pain and bent over, cupping his crotch. Charlotte again tried to scramble to her feet and lift Annie with her—they didn’t have much time. When their attacker looked up, his face was filled with fury.

He had dark hair and dark eyes, and around his neck hung a silver ankh pendant.

“It’s him,” croaked Annie.

There was no way out, nowhere to run. The man stood tall and cracked his knuckles, taking his time, knowing they were trapped. As he cocked his arm back, Charlotte shielded Annie with her own body as best she could and braced herself for the blow, closing her eyes and praying that Mark wouldn’t have to identify her bruised corpse.

But instead of feeling another sharp crack of pain, she heard a low “oomph.”

Another man had his arm around the neck of their attacker, whose eyes now bulged in shock as he struggled to get free. Theybounced off the alley walls like they were in a pinball machine before their attacker finally closed his eyes and slumped over. The other man laid him on the ground and checked for a pulse. “He’s alive,” he said.

Charlotte looked into their rescuer’s eyes and realized she’d seen him before.

It was Jabari. The grandson of Mehedi, the Bedouin who’d been bitten by a cobra all those years ago and had promised to always keep Charlotte safe.

He’d kept his word.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Annie

The police came quickly, having already been alerted by some tourists who’d witnessed the attack as they passed by the alley. Charlotte yelled something about the woman inside the shop, and then Jabari yelled to the cops in Arabic, which sent two of the policemen racing to the store’s front door.

Annie and Charlotte eased up to standing. Annie’s entire right side pulsed with pain, but it was achy, not sharp. As far as she could tell, her bones were intact.

Charlotte put one hand gently under Annie’s chin, scrutinizing her face. “Are you hurt?”

“Just a little sore. I think you took the worst of it,” said Annie. Charlotte’s cheek was bright red. “Thank you for protecting me.”

Charlotte focused on brushing the dirt off Annie’s backside. “Of course.”

Annie tried to imagine Joyce in a similar situation. She doubted her mother would’ve risked damaging her face to protect her.

Annie shivered at the thought of what would have happened ifJabari hadn’t appeared. Charlotte wouldn’t have been able to hold the man off for very long, and they would’ve both been knocked unconscious. Or worse. He was clearly out to do damage.

“I think he was surprised that you fought back the way you did,” said Annie. “Do you want to get some ice on your cheek?”

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