IK3 (6 page)

men might look like penguins in tuxes and looked about as comfortable as

mannequins, she’d bet Gavin would be perfectly at ease in the garb. He’d

have every woman raising tiny opera binoculars for a better look. And

probably drooling all over their expensive gowns as well. Chloe had to admit

that the cut of the coat he wore now fit him perfectly, its dark charcoal color

making his hair ebony and his eyes even darker. The stark white of his

shirt—no doubt custom-made as well—was snow-dazzling in its intensity.

And Lord, she’d love to slowly unknot that tie and unbutton— With a sigh,

she pulled herself out of the errant fantasy.

“You certainly won’t be needing a tux either. Not for the places where we’re

going. Come on,” she said taking his arm and tugging him toward The Gap.

“We can find everything you need to blend in right here.”

However, half an hour later she wasn’t so sure. The black t-shirt stretched

over perfectly-sculpted pecs and biceps and clung to his flat belly—she could

practically see the ridges of a six-pack, although maybe that was her

imagination, given her penchant for romance cover models. But the tight

Levis weren’t. They outlined well-developed thighs and really nice, tight

buns. Gavin wasn’t going to blend in anywhere. Already, as they were

exiting the mall, women were stopping to gape at him, including one

grandma-type with blue hair that ran into a stone bench.

“Where to next?” he asked as Chloe stared the car.

“I thought I might show you some of the spots the dragon was sighted,” she

said. “Then tomorrow, we’ll go over to the temp agency where Sara and

Michael worked and ask around.”

“Can we do that in the evening?”

“They’ll be closed.” Chloe slanted a glance at him as she eased into traffic.

“In the three days I’ve known you, I’ve only seen you at night.” She smiled,

her dimple showing. “Are you some kind of vampire?”

For a moment his eyes glittered like black diamonds as he stared back at

her. “What if I told you I was?”

She felt her eyes widen and then she laughed. “That’d be cool! I could use

that in a story. Sexy vampire—“

“My eyes are sensitive to light,” he interrupted.

“Oh.” That made sense, she supposed, although a little shiver went down

her spine. Not that vampires existed, but Gavin would make a really, really

sexy one— With a sigh, she put that idea on a shelf too. In spite of his looks,

he was almost as serious as Mr. Spock.

Geez.

****

temp agency. He glanced over at Chloe exiting the driver’s seat, her luscious

rump barely covered by another pair of shorts. Did the girl truly not have the

means to cover herself properly? Maybe she should have been the one

buying clothes yesterday—and then he felt a smidgen of guilt. He should

have offered to purchase some items for her. He certainly could afford it.

He’d spent time at Arthur’s court and others as well. It would have been the

gallant thing to do, but somehow, in this century, such deeds were perceived

as sexist.

He did manage to get to the door of the building and open it for her. She

gave him an odd look, but muttered thanks and he refrained from giving her

a courtly bow. Chloe seemed to have an odd effect on him. He hadn’t felt

knightly or even protective of anyone in centuries—not that she was asking

for protection. She’d probably shun the very idea. Gavin shook his head. She

reminded him of a faerie nymph—free-spirited and independent…

And faeries were usually trouble.

She’d gotten perilously close to the truth last night, asking him, if only in

jest, whether he was a vampire. Over the years, he’d learned to cover the

truth by sometimes telling the truth in such a way that people thought he

was the one who was jesting. Had it worked on Chloe?

“You can take the shades off now,” she said, showing her dimple again.

He slipped them off as a middle-aged lady approached them. “I’m

Stephanie, the manager. Can I help you?” she asked with a friendly smile.

Chloe showed her news credentials and turned to introduce him. “This is

Inspector Myles —”

“Private investigator hired by Mr. Smith,” Gavin interrupted before Chloe

spilled the beans about Scotland Yard and who-knows-what else. “He’s very

concerned about Sara Kincaid’s disappearance.”

Stephanie’s face fell. “It’s so sad. There hasn’t been a clue. I suppose we

should be glad a body hasn’t turned up.”

“That’s true,” Chloe said encouragingly. “When was the last time you spoke

to her?”

“As I told the police, Sara called me when she and that nice-looking Lucas

Ramsey were on their way to Maine. She was all excited about looking for

that weapon that Mr. Smith wanted.” The older woman’s lower lip trembled.

“The man already has a whole arsenal of medieval weapons. Why poor Sara

had to go looking for another one I don’t know. You’d think Mr. Smith would

be satisfied with what he has, but no. He got all excited about that old

manuscript and this spear being from King Arthur’s time. As if all that was

real in the first place.”

It was real all right, but the fewer people who knew how real, the better.

“I’ve found that collectors often get obsessed over such discoveries,” Gavin

said. “Lucas Ramsey was my partner which is why Mr. Smith hired me. Rest

assured, if Lucas was with Sara, he’d protect her with his life.”

Stephanie brightened a little and Chloe gave him another odd look, but

surprisingly, didn’t have a comment.

“Well, Michael did say he felt they might be safe-keeping the spear

somewhere,” Stephanie said.

The warlock again. “Why did he feel that way?”

She shrugged. “He didn’t say exactly, but Sara told me someone else was

looking for the spear too and it was important they found it first. Then

Michael—” Her eyes filled with tears. “—Michael got involved with Mr. Smith

too, looking for an old sword. And then he disappeared… I don’t know any

more. It’s just been hard,” she said, dabbing at her eyes as a young man

came through the front entrance. Stephanie managed a smile. “I can use

you here today, Troy, getting records uploaded to our new files.”

“Sure,” he said, glancing from her to Gavin and Chloe. “Is anything wrong?”

“No, dear. These people are trying to help find Sara and Michael.” She

turned to them as Gavin and Chloe stood to leave. “This is Troy Sutton. He’s

been a godsend since Michael and Sara have been gone.”

Gavin extended his hand. “Gavin Myles.”

Troy shook it, his blue eyes holding Gavin’s gaze, steady and searching. “I

hope you’re successful.”

Although Troy was young, the look he gave Gavin spoke of an old soul. As

they left, Gavin couldn’t help thinking that somewhere he had met this

young man before.

****

Balor inhaled deeply on his Cuban cigar and then blew a smoke ring as he

sat back in the heavily brocaded chair in his master suite. Alan Caldwell

suppressed a cough; he hated smoke and the hotel had an anti-smoking

policy, but what would Adam Baylor care about that?

Lucien chuckled as he handed Alan a snifter of brandy. “You’d better get

used to smoke, dude. I don’t think you’ll be going to the other place when

you die.”

Alan accepted the glass, avoiding swirling or sniffing it since his eyes were

already stinging. It wasn’t safe to show any sort of weakness around Baylor.

“I don’t believe in heaven or hell.”

Lucien arched an eyebrow. “That’s interesting. So you’re not afraid to die?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had no doubt that Lucien could be

every bit as ruthless as his brother, even if he did act more affable. As a

private investigator, Caldwell had been involved in enough good cop/bad cop

scenarios himself to recognize the tactic. He shrugged nonchalantly. “No one

wants to die.”

“Hear! Hear!” Balor said and raised his own glass in toast. “Today we

celebrate! Alan is firmly ensconced in Smith’s residence again. We’ll know as

soon as a clue comes in regarding the Dish. And,” he added as he swigged

some brandy, “there’s that woman reporter that’s sidled up to Smith and

gotten all cozy. Maybe this time you can actually get some information out

of her too.”

Alan winced inwardly, careful not to react. His attempt at seducing Sara

Kincaid had failed when Ramsey stepped in, and he’d let a stupid fencing

competition keep him from getting under the sheets with Sophie Cameron.

Getting females into bed was the easiest way to get information—women

loved to cuddle and talk after sex and all he had to do was ask the right

questions. “She seems like an easy mark.”

Balor took another long puff. “That’s what you said about the first two. Try

not to screw it up this time.”

Alan wondered if the use of the word ‘screw’ was intentional irony. He still

shuddered at the sexual torture Baylor had put him through the last time.

“You talking about that hot little number with the orange hair?” Lucien asked

as he poured another drink. “I wouldn’t mind getting a little information out

of her myself.”

Balor gave him an irritated look. “I told you before. Not this time. You’re

playing cop, remember?” Then he turned back to Alan. “Tell me more about

the man that Smith hired. I know he’s Scotland Yard. What’s he like? It’s

always good to know the enemy.”

Alan thought. Myles made him uneasy. His nearly black eyes were too

intense and penetrating, almost more predator than human, but Alan wasn’t

about to get fanciful with Baylor. “He’s aloof. Doesn’t say much. I got the

idea, though, that he didn’t miss anything.”

“Ummm. Perhaps I need to get Morgan to use her rather extensive skills on

him. Speaking of which,” he said as he glanced at his Rolex, “she’s late. I

don’t like late.”

Lucien’s eyes glinted. “I’ll be glad to punish her properly for you.”

As if on cue, a soft knock sounded on the door. Lucien opened it to allow

Morgan to come in. She gave him a sultry look and then glided over to

Baylor, sliding off her coat and loosening the pins that allowed her long, silky

black hair to flow down her back. She wasn’t wearing anything else except

five-inch heels.

Caldwell did a quick intake of air. God, she was beautiful. He’d always

thought she was hot, but he’d never seen her totally naked before. Full

breasts were firmly taunt, their hard, little nipples jaunting upward. Her

waist was tiny, her belly flat, her hips flared out gently and her shaven pubis

was already swollen and inviting. His own groin tightened.

Balor glanced at him and back to Morgan. His lips curved in what might be a

smile. “Would you like her, Caldwell?”

It was a loaded question. The bastard knew he was attracted to her. No

doubt he’d be forced to watch Morgan perform on Baylor while he watched.

It had happened before. “Who wouldn’t?” he asked.

Balor laughed. “Well, you’ve actually given me some important information

this time, so maybe you have earned a reward.” He gestured to Morgan.

“Service him while I watch.”

Caldwell started. Was she—?

Without a word, Morgan turned and gave him a seductive smile, swaying her

hips provocatively as she approached him. She brushed her bare mound

against his face, allowing him a delicious whiff of her woman scent before

she knelt to unzip his pants. His cock nearly jumped out and she smiled, her

soft hands manipulating his balls, kneading them and causing him to stiffen

even more. She pumped his shaft expertly, increasing and decreasing the

pressure while her tongue flicked over his head, teasing him with whisper

strokes, then lapping his ring with the tip of her tongue.

Caldwell felt like an untried schoolboy, about to burst without restraint. He

began to moan. Morgan glanced up at him through her lashes and leaned in

closer, taking him fully. He shut his eyes and leaned back. The sensation

was nearly unbearable as the hot wetness of her mouth closed over him and

her velvet tongue swirled around his granite erection, alternating with the

suction of her sucking him hard. He didn’t think he could hold out much

longer, but he never wanted this to end.

And then there was a subtle shift. His lashes fluttered and then his eyes

popped open. Lucien crouched behind Morgan, pumping into her in a frenzy.

Morgan gripped Alan’s thighs as Lucien’s rough thrusts pushed her face

against Caldwell, ramming his rod further down her throat. She mewled and

sucked harder, urging his release.

His breathing shallowed and the world dimmed, showering the darkness that

circled him with red sparks, only they looked like they were coming from

Lucien’s eyes—with a groan, he came, a strange power jolting through him

before he lost complete control of his mind.

****

of the vet clinic where Sophie Cameron had worked. The hem of the gauzy

skirt she wore caught on the shift, hiking it up to mid-thigh. “Darn it,” she

said and yanked it off, but not before she noticed Gavin had riveted his