IK2 (13 page)

Tanio shrugged. “I did not ask her name. Was that the woman you were having

sex with?”

“I was not having sex with her!”

One of the fire god‟s eyebrows rose. “Then what was it that Pendragon and I

witnessed?”

Michael blinked, trying to focus on the wavering god inside the fire. Now was

not the time for the damn mushroom to kick- in. It was only supposed to heighten his

senses and increase his ability to summon the god. “What the hell did you think you

saw?”

“Tsk, tsk, warlock. We only saw what you were already envisioning. I must say,

the kilt made Pendragon a little homesick for the old days.”

“You had no right to enter my mind,” Michael said, “and definitely no right to

send those images to Sophie.” Bel‟s Fires! No wonder she had turned all those

interesting shades of pink while he was there this morning. She had experienced his

fantasy!

“You dare to tell me what I can do?” Flames rose dangerously high, threatening

to leap out of the hearth altogether. “You will do well to remember your place.”

The room grew hot. Michael felt the air constricting around him. Heat seared his

lungs as he tried to breath. Tanio faded in and out, as though Michael were looking

through a zoom lens. He forced himself to concentrate on a single spark above Tanio‟s

head, watching it grow, move toward him… and then explode like a huge firecracker

over his head.

Michael threw up his hand, muttering sacred words before the sparks could singe

his hair or scorch his face. With an effort, he drew the energy of that burst inside

himself, letting it wrap its falling shards around his brow chakra. His vision cleared

slowly.

Tanio tilted his fiery head, regarding him. “I am impressed, warlock. I‟ve never

had one of my spells stopped before.” He raised his hands, palms up, and withdrew the

heat back into the hearth. “Perhaps you
are
the best vessel to find the sword and outwit Balor. I had argued with Brighid about that.”

“I didn‟t call you here to play games,” Michael replied. “I want you to stay out of

Sophie‟s mind. She doesn‟t trust men because some jerk really hurt her. The last thing she needs is to think is that I am using her for sexual fantasies.”

Tonio‟s brow rose again. “Aren‟t you?”

Michael felt his face grow warm and it didn‟t have to do with the fire-god‟s

previous endeavors. “I keep my thoughts controlled. For some reason, we need her to

find the sword. I won‟t jeopardize that.”

“See that you don‟t,” Tonio replied and then abruptly vanished, leaving nothing

but warm embers banking in the hearth.

“Damn it!” Michael shouted as he stood. “You didn‟t tell me if you‟d stay out of

Sophie‟s mind!”

Laughter surrounded him and then it faded away.

Michael cursed again as he turned on the lights. How was he ever going to

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 53

convince Sophie that he wasn‟t going to use her like that other guy did if some

mischievous god was going to lurk in his head?

* * * *

Baylor leaned back in Lucifer‟s lambskin recliner and watched as his brother

adjusted the spiked dog collar around Morgan‟s neck. It was just tight enough that if she yanked her head, it would prick her skin, much like a vampire‟s bite. Attaching the small chains from the nipple rings to the collar, Lucifer bent her forward from the waist and

used the collar‟s leash to tether her to the polished brass foot rail of an ultra-modern glass and ebony bar in the posh bachelor pad he was currently using. Placing padded cuffs

around her wrists, he shackled them to the rail as well. The effect was that Morgan‟s

head was down, allowing for blood flow to add to the climatic rush, and her naked ass

was thrust high into the air, like a waiting invitation.

Lucifer grinned at Balor, white teeth flashing in his tanned face as he brushed his

fingers through his blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled, all traces of the demon-red they really were concealed. No one would ever guess that he‟d been around for thousands of

years…or that he was the Christian‟s own devil. Morgan thought she was having sex

with a California surfer dude.

“Sure you don‟t want a turn first, bro?” Lucifer asked. “You know I tend to

fatigue them.”

That was probably an understatement. He used to simply kill them through sheer

exhaustion, but laws over the last centuries had taught him to be more careful. Victims turning up dead led to inquires.

“She‟s all yours. I promised Morgan a little treat for the information she got for

me.”

“Mmmm…and I‟m so ready,” Morgan said and started to turn her head to look at

them and abruptly stopped as the movement pulled the chains causing the nipple rings to

pinch. “Ah!”

Lucifer leaned down, reaching around her to give them another tug. “Do you like

that, beautiful?”

“Oh, yes,” Morgan purred. “Baylor has taught me that pain is pleasure.”

He grinned again. “Then I should be very thankful to my brother, shouldn‟t I?”

He grabbed her hips, holding them still, and rammed himself into her ass, causing her to squeal. He pulled her hair back, lifting her head, causing the collar to bite in as he began thrusting. “Feel the pain, sweetheart. Become one with it. Your climax is going to be the best one you ever had.”

“Oooh…hurts…so…much…umm, so…good….” Morgan became incoherent as

he continued to take her hard.

Nearly half an hour later, she lay passed out on the floor. Lucifer cleaned himself

with a warm washcloth. “No blood. You must use her often.”

Balor shrugged. “She likes it that way. Probably the best lay I‟ve had in a

hundred years.”

“She‟s got stamina too. Most of them don‟t hold out more than fifteen minutes

tops,” Lucifer said. “What‟s her name again?”

“Morgan.”

Lucifer paused in pulling on his jeans. “No relation to Morgana le Fey, is she?”

Balor laughed. “Hardly. Don‟t you think we‟d recognize an immortal?”

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 54

“Hard to say.” Lucifer zipped up his pants and reached for his shirt. “Morgana

saved her brother‟s life on more than one occasion by creating the illusion of being

invisible.”

“Arthur lived because he carried Excalibur,” Balor snapped.

“Ah, yes. The Sword of Fire. It‟s why you‟re here, I assume?” He poured

himself a whisky and offered one to Balor. Flopping down in another lambskin chair, he

flung a leg over the armrest. “So what information did this little whore bring you?”

Balor related the conversation he‟d heard on the tape. “They‟re about ready to

start hunting,” he said. “I‟ll have Landon follow them using the GPS, but with

Pendragon loose, we‟ll need Segurd‟s help as well.”

“Yeah, I thawed his cave out when I got your message,” Lucifer said. “He wasn‟t

exactly happy. Hell‟s a little too warm for him after being in the Artic.”

“Tanio probably wasn‟t too pleased either,” Balor replied.

Lucifer shrugged. “I stopped answering to him long ago when the Christians

were so kind as to give me my own name.”

“Still, he is a diety.” Balor forced himself to keep the rancor out of his voice.

He‟d damn Brighid to hell for exiling him, except she wouldn‟t go there. “No sense in

deliberately alienating one of the old gods.”

He grinned. “I can hold my own. The more people who believe I am evil, the

more power I absorb.”

Balor laughed too. “You
are
evil. You got kicked out of Avalon right after I

did.”

Lucifer sobered. “We owe that bitch, Brighid. I get dibs on raping her for

eternity.”

“And you‟re welcome to her,” Balor replied, “right after we seize total control of

the world and throw it into complete chaos.”

“And people think hell is bad,” Lucifer said and grinned again, this time the

demon-fire burning in his eyes. “Just wait until they see what we can really do.”

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 55

Sophie felt Alan Caldwell‟s eyes on her as she finished giving Princess‟ pups

their initial shots. Mr. Smith had told her that the article Caldwell had done for
Guns and
Swords
had gone over well and the editors wanted another story on Smith‟s weapons, which was the reason Alan was at the mansion. Supposedly.

She‟d never considered herself to be a detective—heck, she didn‟t even watch

CSI:whatever—
but something about Alan seemed off. She cast a sideways glance

through her lashes. Physically, he was a good- looking man with a pro- football player

build, but she wasn‟t attracted to him. Michael was muscular too, but with the leaner

build of a baseball or tennis player. Alan‟s eyes were blue and cold; his smile didn‟t

reach them. Michael‟s eyes were dark and sexy…all sorts of emotions played through

them.

Sophie grimaced and stood. Why in the world was she comparing Alan to

Michael? She had tried to stopping thinking about Mic hael at all after that unsettling dream a couple of nights ago, but it kept niggling at her mind. Even last night, as she tossed and turned, she could feel his hands on her, kneading her breasts, stroking down

her belly and then lower, to explore her folds while his mouth covered a tight nipple. She had grown wet again and practically come from only the thought. It was like she had

some sort of spell on her and to make matters worse, Michael was due here any minute to

discuss their itinerary. How in the world was she going to handle traveling with the man?

“You‟ve got a terrible frown on your face,” Alan said as crossed the study to

come stand beside her. “What‟s wrong?”

She gave herself a shake. “Nothing. I was just thinking about some arrangements

that needed to be made.” She nodded at Mr. Smith. “The pups are doing well.” Then,

since Caldwell was still standing there expectedly, she asked, “How is your article

going?”

“Well.” He gestured to the wall where the swords hung. “I‟ve decided I‟d

include a little history lesson on each type of sword that Mr. Smith owns and the time

period in which it was used.”

“That sounds interesting,” she replied off-handedly as she heard Benton answer

the door and then the sound of Michael‟s baritone, low, but soft and tickly on her ears.

The kind of voice a man might use in the bedroom….

Dear God. She had to stop thinking about him like that!!!

“Too bad Excalibur isn‟t up on the wall,” Alan said.

That drew her attention back to him and, it seemed, Michael‟s too, as he entered

the room. She could practically see his ears perk up.

“Most people think Excalibur is a myth,” she said carefully as Michael

approached them.

“Do they?” Alan‟s icy-blue eyes stared into hers. “What do you think?”

She had that unsettled feeling again, as though he were asking a completely

different question. She forced a laugh that sound stilted even to her. “I—I don‟t know.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 56

Maybe, if it were real, it would be fun to swing it. Test its balance. Maybe eve n imagine what those knights of the Round Table were like.” She felt Michael‟s hand at the small

of her back and nearly jumped. Even that small gesture sent tingly sensations all over

her.

“Why the interest in Excalibur?” Michael asked bluntly.

Caldwell shifted his gaze to meet Michael‟s. “That would be the Mother Lode,

wouldn‟t it? For the article.”

“The article,” Michael repeated, not taking his eyes off Caldwell and keeping his

hand firmly at Sophie‟s back.

She had a sudden feeling that the two men were squaring off, much like boys in a

schoolyard ready to start a brawl. How to switch the subject before expensive lamps

started flying off tables?

“The rapier,” she said quickly. “That would make a good story. I believe the

pirate, Jean LaFitte, used the same type as the one here.”

“But my dear,” Mr. Smith interceded, unaware of the tension mounting between

the two men, “that could very well
be
Mr. LaFitte‟s sword. It was found right after the Battle of New Orleans.” He clapped his hands delightedly. “That would make a good

story, wouldn‟t it?”

“Yes, it would,” Sophie agreed hastily, hoping the situation was diffused.

Apparently, it was, because Alan looked back at her. “I believe you said you

fenced as a hobby? And the rapier was your favorite weapon?”

“I haven‟t had time recently, but yes.”

“Perhaps a little match would help you relax about whatever you were worried

about earlier? Maybe tomorrow?”

“Ah—I don‟t know…”

“I can handle a sword too,” Michael interrupted. “Why don‟t you take me on?”

Caldwell slowly turned back to him, his look calculating. “Any time. But I was

asking the lady.”

Sophie gave an inward groan. So much for diffusion.

“It would hardly be a fair match,” Michael said, “you outweigh her by a good

eighty pounds.”

Sophie gaped at him. He didn‟t think she could hold her own? Her lighter weight

gave her the advantage of being quick and flexible! And a match wasn‟t mortal combat

after all. She lifted her head, chin jutting out.