And he needed sex. He needed to find a mortal woman and take her to his bed, sink his sharp fangs into her silken neck and his aching cock into her lush body. To relieve the hunger. And the frustration. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. Nor anytime soon. For that would mean exposing his weakness to his followers, letting them see him as less than the powerful demigod and commanding ruler he’d been for the past five thousand years. He’d rather die. Which was fast becoming a distinct possibility. If he didn’t feed before his Full-Moon Slumber he would likely never awaken again, regardless of the prayers and rituals fervently murmured over his black obsidian sarcophagus by the temple priestess. Not that there was a temple priestess any longer at Khepesh, the secret underground tomb-palace where he and his followers served Set-Sutekh, the ancient Egyptian God of Darkness. A week ago their last full priestess, Seth’s sister Nephtys, had sacrificed her freedom to their archenemy, Haru-Re, allowing herself to be captured by the High Priest of the Sun God and agreeing to become the bastard’s consort.
