IK2 (25 page)

“We‟ll travel up the western coast of Florida and stop at Ft. Myers,” he said as

though they‟d been having a conversation. “There were a couple of forts along the

Caloosahatchee River during the Civil War. Maybe there‟s something in the museum

there.”

Sophie turned toward him. “Do you really think we‟re going to find the sword?

This is as far “south” as we can get.”

“We‟ve got the entire Gulf coast to check out,” Michael answered, “all the way to

Brownsville if necessary.”

“Maybe we should have started looking in Texas then,” she said wryly.

“Texas is more the Gateway to the West rather than the South,” Michael replied

and then grinned. “Besides we might not have had a chance to travel together for the past ten days.”

She blushed and he got just a tiny glimpse of her thoughts. She was in bed,

naked… Then the shield came back up. Michael felt his groin tighten. He really was not going to enjoy
waiting
.

Suddenly there was a flurry of movement on the deck as most of the tourists

rushed over to the starboard side. “Whale!” someone yelled. “Oh, my God, it‟s huge!”

“It‟s a great white!” someone else hollered.

Michael frowned. Whales were not that common in this area, especially not great

whites who preferred colder waters. He took Sophie‟s arm and crossed over to the right

side. Shading his eyes with his hand, he squinted across the shimmering water.

The surface rippled again as the mammal approached the surface much closer to

the boat. Its head broke through and people started screaming.

“Sea monster!”

“It‟s Nessie!” a college kid with a long, brown pony-tail yelled.

“Sea dragon,” a woman screamed as the creature dove beneath the surface again.

Michael turned away and looked at Sophie. Her face was unusually pale in the

sunlight.

“Sigurd,” he said.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 106

Balor flicked the ashes off his illegal Cuban cigar, depositing them in a Waterford

wine goblet. Damn hotel wouldn‟t provide ashtrays, saying they discouraged their

patrons from smoking in the rooms. Like Balor cared when he was paying over a

thousand dollars a day for the suite.

“What the crap is going on with that dragon?” he asked Lucifer when his brother

finally answered his cell on the third attempt to reach him. “The AP is having a damn

field-day with the sightings in Charleston and now the Keys. They‟re clamoring to know

where the vet went too. Sigurd is going to blow our cover. Can‟t you control him?”

“Hey, bro,” Lucifer said in a deceptively mild tone. “All I did was defrost him.”

“He‟s supposed to be zeroing in on our quarry, not exposing them to the entire

world. The fewer people who know what we‟re looking for, the better. Have you

explained that to him?”

“Yep. Sigurd says he wants to have a little fun after being in the frozen tundra for

fifteen hundred years.”

“Well, maybe you could show him how hot hell can be.”

Lucifer laughed. “He breathes fire, remember?”

Balor flicked another ash and wished Morgan were there to suck his dick and

relieve some of the tension that was building inside him. He forced himself to sound

calm. “How close are you and Landon getting to them?”

“Landon was within twenty feet of them on Church Street.”

“And you?”

“
Church
Street is a place I‟d rather not be. Bad memories,” Lucifer said.

“Besides, I‟m staying under the radar for now. I had Landon following them in

Charleston and on boat over to Fort Jefferson as well. We‟ve got them in our sights.

They just don‟t know it.”

“Good. Is the kid behaving for you?”

Lucifer laughed again. “Of course. He‟s willing to do anything to keep me from

tearing his ass open. He‟s getting pretty good at jerking me off properly.”

Balor laughed too. “I may have to give him a try then, when you‟re through with

him. Keep me posted and try to keep that damn dragon in line.” He hung up the phone,

still feeling strangely frustrated. Getting his balls screwed off sounded like a good idea at the moment. Morgan was too easy. Too accommodating. He wanted to humiliate

someone into performing like Lucifer was doing. He reached for the phone. He‟d reel

Toby in with some excuse and make him do it. The Clark kid hated s ucking cock and

right now, forcing him would go a long way to vent Balor‟s frustration.

* * * *

“What good am I to you if you keep making me stay in motel rooms while you

two go looking for the sword?” Pendragon grumbled from the back of the SUV as they

turned onto the Tamiami Trail through the Everglades. “Twice now, Sigurd has shown

himself. He‟s playing with you. Let me shift back and I can destroy him.”

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 107

Michael glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. “Maybe because he doesn‟t scent

you with us, he‟s not really sure. Have you thought of that?”

Pendragon rumbled something unintelligible.

Sophie turned in her seat to look back at the dragon and smile. She had grown

quite fond of him, partly because his very presence was a deterrent for any kind o f

amorous advances on Michael‟s part. She let her gaze sweep sideways at Michael. His

dark eyes were fixed on the road, allowing her to take in the high set of his cheekbones, his straight nose and strong jaw. His tee-shirt pulled taunt over his shoulders and muscles in his forearm flexed as the car rounded a curve a little faster than the speed limit. She sighed. If she were going to be honest with herself, it wasn‟t Michael‟s advances she

feared. It was her reaction to having those strong arms around her, pressing the soft parts of her body against the hard parts of his…

He slanted a look sideways. “Your shields are slipping again.”

She felt herself blush furiously and looked back at Pendragon. The dragon‟s lips

were curled back from his sharp teeth in what looked like a lecherous grin.

“Stop it! Both of you. I was only thinking about how many more nights on the

road before we get back to Dallas.”

Michael‟s eyes glittered with amusement. “You still have time to ask me.”

“Ask you what?” Pendragon said.

“Never mind,” Sophie said quickly and turned to look out the window. “Why

don‟t you two just enjoy the scenery?”

“I am,” Michael said with a grin.

“I meant—Look. There‟s an alligator.”

Pendragon stuck his snout out the rear window they‟d opened for him and caught

the gator‟s scent. “He‟s a relative of dragons. Where are his wings?”

“Alligators don‟t fly,” Michael replied, “even though there might be some

resemblance to you.”

“Hmph.” Pendragon answered. “This seems like a strange world in here.”

“It is,” Sophie answered, glad to change the subject. “What looks like acres of

sawgrass waving in the wind are actually marshy sloughs that flow toward the ocean.

The trees you see standing in ponds of water are cypress and the other that look

like they‟re raised up are hardwoods growing on islands called hammocks.”

“Now who‟s been Googling?” Michael asked.

“Not Googling,” she replied, refusing to give in to his sexy smile—the one with

no dimple. “Biology. I‟m a vet, remember? The Everglades is home to a variety of

species—interesting birds like anhingas and bald eagles, poisonous pit vipers, deadly

coral snakes, boas and pythons too. Deer and alligators, small game as well. And, of

course, the endangered panther.”

Michael‟s grin widened. “Okay, Teacher. Tell us more.”

She ignored his taunt. This, at least, was a safe subject. “Male cats can weigh as

much as two hundred twenty pounds. They‟re territorial. Two males can‟t stay in the

same territory. Their main prey are deer…”

“Stop!” Pendragon interrupted.

Michael slowed the car, pulling over to the sandy shoulder. “What‟s wrong?”

“Sigurd is here. I can smell him.” Without waiting for an answer, Pendragon

leapt out the window.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 108

“Damn it, get back in here!”

Pendragon paid no attention, lifting his wings instead and flying toward a cypress

grove not far away.

Michael cursed again and opened his door to get out. “You stay put,” he said to

Sophie. “Who knows what‟s out there.” Turning, he ran for the grove.

“Like I‟m going to obey you.” Sophie got out and followed him, hobbling as fast

as she could. She could hear both of them slushing through shallow waters. For a

moment, she thought of water moccasins. The n she squared her shoulders. They were

making so much noise and movement that any smart snake would get out of the way.

She just hoped the gators basking on the sun-warmed mud banks would be too lazy too

move. What time did they feed anyway?

She moved cautiously through the more densely shaded area of the grove toward

an area where sunlight filtered through the leaves. The usual array of bird-song, frog-

croaking and insect noise suddenly stopped. Behind her, she heard the sudden splashing

of gators slipping into the marshy streams. Not taking time to look behind her, she

ploughed ahead.

The trees gave way to a grassy meadow of sorts, but as she burst through, all hell

was about to break loose.

Pendragon hovered a few feet above the ground, wings flapping furiously, unable

to actually fly. Michael stood close to him and only a few feet from both of them, a

panther and his mate crouched low, snarling. Smoke began to spew from the dragon‟s

nostrils as he tried to hurl fire, but no flames came.

The panthers separated, slinking low on their bellies as they began to circle their

victims. Michael‟s form began to vibrate and, as Sophie watched, he morphed into a

panther himself. A sleek cat with a blue-black coat. Snarling, he stalked toward the

male.

Sophie blinked. What in God‟s name was happening? Was Michael using an

illusion? She couldn‟t tell.

A flare of fire shot past her singing the female cat‟s paws. She growled but slunk

back to lick her paws. Pendragon crashed on the ground, exhausted from his effort.

Sophie looked back toward Michael as the panther leaped to attack. The two of them

went down, claws digging, fangs trying to bite deep into each other‟s necks. The panther rolled on top of Michael, leaving his belly exposed. Its mighty jaws opened—

“No!” Sophie screamed, extending her hands. A sharp pain pierced her as the

surge of energy pulsed through her and made the world spin. She sank to the ground,

nearly blinded by the light that shot from her fingers. The male panther flew back,

bouncing against a tree. Michael lay still on the ground, but Sophie had no strength left to go to him as she slowly collapsed beside Pendragon.

* * * *

Sophie slowly opened her eyes to the dim interior of a small room that smelled of

fresh linens and a hint of eucalyptus. The bed she was lying in was super-soft, filled with feathers, she guessed.

“You‟re awake! How do you feel?” Michael rose from the chair he‟d been sitting

in and came over to the bed.

“A little groggy. Where am I?”

“At a settlement behind the Miccosukee Indian Village. One of their tribal

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 109

members found us.”

Sophie tried to sit up and fell back against the pillow. “I‟m so weak.”

“Let me help,” Michael said and leaned forward, putting his arms around her and

propping her against the headboard. “I‟m not surprised. That was quite a bit of magic

you used.”

“I don‟t remem—oh!” It all came flooding back to her. “Those panthers! One of

them was attacking you, only you…” Her voice trailed off and she rubbed her temples.

“I think maybe I have a concussion.”

“The doctor here checked you out. He didn‟t see any signs of a concussion.

And,” Michael motioned to the modest nightgown she wore, “the nurse changed your

clothes.”

Sophie looked down as if seeing the gown for the first time and shook her head

slightly. “But I thought you turned into a panther, too. That‟s impossible. I must have hit my head.”

“No, you didn‟t.” Michael took her hands and sat down on the edge of the bed

beside her. “What you saw was a very strong illusion of a black panther. Remember

how Caldwell thought he saw a flaming sword in my hand?”

Sophie nodded. “But you looked so
real
.”

Michael looked intently at her and then took a deep breath. “My magic is very

old and very strong. I have the ability to create a form from the energy around me. It isn‟t sustainable for very long, but while it lasts, the other person will believe the illusion to be solid.”

“Then you weren‟t hurt?”

“I was, but I heal pretty quickly.” He unbuttoned his shirt to show her a faint pink

scar across his right shoulder that looked weeks old, although it had been only hours ago.

“See?”

“What about Pendragon? He wasn‟t moving…”

“He‟s fine. Or, at least as fine as he can be since the clansmen decided it might be

safer to keep him in his cage. I don‟t think they exactly believe that he‟s a rare form of a Gila Monster.” Michael grinned. “I guess I‟ll owe him a gallon of ice cream.”