Like most of Cairo, the neighborhoods of Darb al-Ahmar didn't conform to a rigid, easily recognizable grid. The quarter occupied the eastern portion of the city below the Muqattam hills, The Citadel a constant presence rising high above. Nicholas Sforza-Ankhotep was somewhat familiar with the area, having played tourist to check out the many mosques that peppered the neighborhood. The old man he followed headed through the neighborhood with the confidence of intimate familiarity. Sensing they were getting close to their destination, Nicholas decided to take advantage of the winding twists and turns and the shadows deepening in the gloom to sneak closer to the old man. They went down a winding street past a few more houses, then around a corner to an alleyway slotted between a two-story mud-brick building and a sprawling wakalah, a kind of residential warehouse more recently converted to small shops and dwellings. Nicholas eased back as the old man flashed a look around before entering. Shuffling along with the flow, Nicholas passed the alley and rounded the next corner. A glance had shown him the alley ended at an archway into what appeared to be an interior courtyard.
Nicholas circled the block, which was comprised of the wakalah and three other buildings, all two-story mud brick residential structures. The three apartment buildings formed a U with the open end facing east. The wakalah closed up the top of the U, except for the alley entrance, to form a square. The apartments were constructed of mud brick centuries ago, rather than thrown together with concrete as an increasing number of buildings were in modern times. Each had a single main door set to one side and three narrow windows overlooking the street on each floor. The roofs were flat, with clusters of television aerials on each-as well as two small satellite dishes poking from one corner. Overall, seemed pleasant enough, even upscale for the area. It looked like there was once a fourth matching building where the wakalah stood. The residential warehouse covered more ground but wasn't quite as tall as the old apartments. A jumble of dilapidated buildings leaned over the street across from the wakalah, a few of them three stories tall. The setting sun threw their shadows over most of the warehouse.
Nicholas slipped around and lounged in the angle where a storage shed joined the wakalah wall. Drawing upon his bracelet of Selket, he leaped onto the shed's roof. Sure-footed as the scorpion that fell under the goddess's auspice, Nicholas leaped again to the top of the wakalah and made his way across its tiled roof. As far as he could tell, no one was watching from the apartment building roofs. He wasn't concerned with being spotted from below. People seldom looked up, especially in areas where things weren't built up that much. The cramped streets helped further; anyone on the street who wanted a decent look at the rooftops would have to crane his neck sharply.
He moved fast, slipping lightly along the rooftop, and was soon at the edge peering into the central courtyard. The space was tiled, with small plots of earth in each corner in which were planted clusters of ferns. A single door opened from each building into the courtyard, but there was no doorway into the wakalah. The three apartment buildings also had wrought-iron balconies on the second floor. The old man had plenty of time to get inside and Nicholas saw no other movement outside. It was impossible to tell which structure the guy had entered. Nicholas decided to give it a few minutes. See if the old man had merely dropped by to report. Nicholas hunkered down to one side where the wakalah roof met the right-hand apartment building.
A little while later, he heard the crunch of shoes — not from the courtyard, but from above. The measured pace of a bored guard. Nicholas pressed against the mud brick that rose eight feet to the apartment roof. He couldn't hide from anyone looking straight down, but otherwise a casual glance should miss him. The footsteps strolled by, growing quiet as the guard worked his way back around the roof. Nicholas took one last look down to the courtyard. He caught movement on the left side apartment roof and jerked back out of sight, cursing himself even as he did so. Sudden movements were the best way to get spotted. Sure enough, he heard a yell from the left-side roof. Not an alarm, at least. His Arabic was good enough to understand Lefty was calling out to the guard who'd just walked by above Nicholas.
Great, yeah, come check out if somebody's hiding down here. Nicholas scowled. If he ran now, they'd surely spot him. But what would they report? Somebody running across a rooftop. Fuck it; he was sick of running.
A stocky Egyptian torso poked over the roof lip right above him. Nicholas was ready. He straightened, one hand grabbing the guard by the front of his shirt and yanking him down to land clumsily on his face near the roof's edge. Any doubt Nicholas had about the place or this man was wiped away at the sight of a snake tattoo that peeked out of the man's sleeve when he slapped a hand against the wall.
Nicholas faced the retainer of a Follower of Set; mortals like this often showed their loyalty with the serpent tattoo. Allegiance to one of the mummies' greatest foes left the man bereft of any mercy Nicholas might otherwise have shown. He moved with the speed of a striking scorpion and grabbed the front of the man's shirt again, yanking forward then driving back to strike him hard in the throat. Even as the first blow landed, Nicholas struck with the heel of his other hand against the man's temple.
The guard choked on whatever he was about to say, the blow to the head knocking him senseless an instant later. Nicholas kept hold of the cheap fabric and swung the twitching body over the roof's edge, then released. A cloud of dirt puffed around the guard as he hit the street.
Nicholas' sharp ears caught the other guard's scrambling as soon as the stocky one disappeared over the side. He hopped up and grabbed the roof edge above him, rolling up and over and laying flat behind the lip. An instant later he heard Lefty drop to the warehouse roof and scramble over the tile, calling, "Malik? Malik?" Concern became panic when Lefty saw his buddy Malik sprawled in the street below. Nicholas listened as the guard rushed to the edge of the roof overlooking the courtyard and yelled for help.
Nicholas peered over the roof's edge. Bingo. The old man and another, younger fellow, emerged into the thin strip of light that banded the west end of the courtyard. They shielded their eyes, staring up into the light of the setting sun toward the guard.
"Malik has fallen!" Lefty called down in Arabic. "I think that someone—"
"Hey!" exclaimed the younger man in the courtyard, pointing up to where Nicholas was moving, fully upright and in plain view, along the rooftop edge.
Soon as he was seen, Nicholas headed for the simple trap door that provided entrance to the rooftop. He vanished from view right away, but from the subsequent commotion it sounded like they were all converging on this building. Lefty clattered over the tiles and grabbed for the roof, shoes scraping against the side as struggled for the leverage to pull himself up. The door to the building squealed open and Nicholas soon heard one set of feet heading fast up the stairs. Too fast for the old man, so where was he? Straining a bit, Nicholas heard a shuffling step he'd tracked before. Sounded like the old guy was headed for the street to check on Malik. So far, it was going the way he'd hoped.
It would be easy enough to pick off each of these guards, but he didn't give a shit about them. The vampire they surely guarded was what interested him. The sun was setting even now; Nicholas would have to move fast if he wanted to deal with the creature before it could rise. He leaped from the rooftop, the tiles shattering beneath his feet as he landed. The sound echoed through the shadows of the courtyard, triggering confused shouts from the rooftop. Nicholas smiled and dashed into the western apartment building.
The interior was part of a single large suite of rooms, rather than a series of separate apartments that he'd assumed. Stairs before him led up, and to his right the space opened on a large sitting room containing a pair of low couches strewn with pillows and a series of small tables. An antique writing table sat in one corner. Carpets scattered the floor and hangings adorned the walls, everything a lush Arabic decor. All very nice, but Nicholas was more interested in finding the vampire's resting place. Seemed most likely it was downstairs — having your coffin aboveground was asking for trouble. His ears, sharp as a fox's, heard stone grating on stone coming through a beaded hanging was strung across the doorway on the opposite wall. He plunged through the hanging, into another well-appointed chamber. His gaze went to the center of a stone floor strewn with colorful rugs. One of the rugs was flipped aside by a marble square just lifting from the floor.
The creature pushing up from below saw Nicholas the instant he entered the room. Nicholas caught a flash of yellow reptile eyes, then the heavy stone slab was flying right at him.
The ancient portion of Nicholas' soul, his ka, acted as his very own guardian angel. There should have been no chance to avoid the hurtling stone, yet Nicholas somehow flung himself backward, arching his back as the marble flashed less than an inch from his face. The slab shattered against the wall as Nicholas continued his move into a backward roll. He came up in a crouch just as the vampire launched itself from its lair. The Followers of Set were dangerous predators, strong and fast and possessed of tremendous powers given them by their connection to their undead lord. Nicholas had hoped to catch this one before it emerged from its slumber; apparently it was an early riser.
The thing's skin became mottled and darkened to black scales as it came at him....