Wicked Fantasy (10 page)

Gerry heard Conall stand and then felt his hand on her shoulder. He pulled her back against him, but the press of his hard body did
not
calm her.

“Easy.” His voice was low and controlled.

Well, hers was loud and way out of control. “No one deserves to be punished for eight hundred years. And get out of my world. I don't want you manipulating my life just to satisfy your warped need for vengeance.”

The huge black bird fluffed up its feathers so it looked even bigger and cawed at her. The little black eyes began to glow red. Urp. Had she said too much? Perhaps she lacked sensitivity. Even evil black birds needed a hug now and then. Nah.

“You will
not
speak to me in that tone of voice, puny vampire.”

Wow. Morrigan sounded like a female James Earl Jones. And if Gerry wasn't so mad, she'd laugh at that sound coming from a crow.

Since she'd already ticked off the goddess, she might as well keep on truckin'. “What'll you do, destroy me? Oh, wait. If you do that then you'll have to release Conall from his curse. Wow, you have a situation here, goddess.” She couldn't seem to stop running her mouth. A lifelong weakness.

She heard Conall's low curse just before he stepped in front of her.

“She's had a lot of weird stuff happen to her since she hit the castle, Morrigan. We're together, so what's the problem?” His grip on Gerry's arm easily kept her behind him.

Damn, what good was vampire strength if she couldn't get away from one blasted man? “Let me go. I can fight my own battles.”

“No.” He never took his attention from the crow.

Morrigan looked like she was considering murder and mayhem, but then decided to let the “puny” vampire live for the moment. “What did you mean by, ‘What brought you back?' This is my first visit since you began serving Mick Kavanagh.”

Conall tensed. “The hell it is. You hopped into my mind right after Mick died to let me know the last Kavanagh was living in Galveston. You told me to get a job at the Castle of Dark Dreams and wait for further instructions. Then last night you showed up in my bathroom, perched on my sink, and said that the Kavanagh would be at Wicked Fantasy. I went. She was. And now we're here.”

Morrigan's eyes were doing the red and glowing thing again. Uh-oh. She was not a happy crow. The goddess turned her attention to Gerry. “Why were you at Wicked Fantasy last night?”

“Not that you need to know, but I got an anonymous tip that a thief I was after would be there.” Gerry frowned. Coincidence? She didn't think so.

Morrigan didn't think so either. She let out a mental shriek that rattled around in Gerry's head. “Jeez, would you tone it down a little?” It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure this one out. Someone had impersonated Morrigan in order to manipulate them.

Morrigan flapped her wings and made angry crow noises. “Where is this thief?”

“Umm, down the hall. Room three.” She wouldn't, would she?

She did. Jinx suddenly appeared in the room wearing nothing but red boxer shorts and a confused expression. “A dungeon? What, you're going to torture me now? I only stole the freakin' ring.”

“Be still, puling human.” Morrigan cocked her head to get a better angle on Jinx. “You are exceptionally unattractive.” She hopped to the back of the nearest chair.

Jinx laughed. Surprisingly, laughter made him almost cute. In a happy-ferret kind of way. “This coming from an ugly black bird? Whatta you do when you're not scaring scarecrows? Oh, and I'm a shape-shifter, not a puling human.”

Gerry noticed he wasn't as confident as he sounded. His hands were shaking. “Leave him alone. He doesn't have anything to do with this.”

Morrigan ignored her and kept her piercing gaze on Jinx. “I am Morrigan, Irish goddess of war, destruction, and almost everything worth having power over. Respect me, human, or die.”

Jinx swallowed hard. “Got it. Lots of respect coming your way, goddess.”

Gerry could feel the anger thrumming through Conall, but he remained silent.

Morrigan studied Jinx like he was tasty roadkill. “Why were you at Wicked Fantasy last night?”

Jinx shrugged. “Got a tip the Bimmel woman would be there wearing a hot rock. Said she tended to get careless with her jewelry. Took her rings off and set them down in places perfect for snatching.”

“Who gave you the tip?”

“Anonymous. Didn't know if it was legit but decided to give it a try.”

Morrigan nodded. “You may leave.”

Jinx didn't wait around to hear more.

Gerry edged out from behind Conall. He didn't try to stop her. His attention was focused on Morrigan.

“Interesting game. Looks like someone is making your moves for you.” Conall didn't seem upset by that. “Whoever it is knows about your curse and doesn't give a flip about pissing you off. I'd like to shake their hand.”

“You'd better shake it quickly, because when I discover who the guilty party is, I'll scatter their body parts over all of Galveston.” Morrigan flew into the air and disappeared out the door.

Gerry shuddered. “Bloodthirsty bitch, isn't she?” God, that was one scary woman.

Conall exhaled deeply. “She has a right to be. She decides who lives and dies on the battlefields. There's no softness or mercy in that goddess.”

“Hey, there's
always
someone bigger and badder. I don't believe her Supreme Nastiness is as powerful as she thinks. She's an ancient goddess, ancient as in old and complacent. Can I say, we've come a long way, baby? I don't roll over and play dead every time crow woman caws.” Now all she had to do was find this bigger and badder being.

He stared down at her. “Still interested in that walk?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Well, no, but climbing into bed and pulling the covers over my head would be just another notch on the goddess's belt. I let her intimidate me, she wins.”

He smiled. And rearranged her internal organs—heart in throat, flip-flopped stomach, and brain hovering somewhere south of her belly button.

Gerry said nothing until they were out of the castle. “So what was my ancestor Sean like? I mean, he must've been something special to bring out all that passion in Morrigan and you.”
Who wanted to kill her?

“Sean could make anyone like him. He had a gift for saying the right thing to stroke egos. He sucked up to Morrigan big-time.” Conall shrugged. “In battle he was a stone-cold killer. His men were like army ants. They destroyed every living thing in their path.” He looked at her. “If you met him today, you'd think he was a great guy. And as long as you weren't in his way, he'd be fun to hang with.”

When she got home she'd pull out the Kavanagh history and reread the family's take on both Sean and Conall. She glanced at his back. “You left your sword in the castle. Bet you feel naked.” Oops, wrong choice of words. The word “naked” started an instant replay of how he'd looked with water sluicing over his bare body, gleaming muscles sharply delineated, clutching that great big sword. “See, now you won't be able to protect me.” She was trying for teasing, but it came out sounding a little insecure.
Why did someone want her dead?

A smile touched the corners of that expressive mouth. “I have a knife strapped to my ankle.” His smile widened. “Besides, my whole body is a weapon, sweetheart.”

“No kidding.” And she meant it. “Must be interesting living in the Castle of Dark Dreams. It's a winning concept, combination hotel and semi-authentic castle. Guests get to act out their medieval fantasies and then sleep in a real castle chamber.”
Would the killer try again?

“Yeah, I like it here.” He stopped smiling. “And you're avoiding the talk we need to have.”

“I'm not avoiding anything.” Uh-huh. And he'd believe that. “Where're we headed?”

“I thought I'd give you a taste of one of Live the Fantasy's attractions.” He didn't turn to look at her. “You're going to have to let me stay close to you until we figure out where the danger's coming from.”

“I can take care of myself.”
Uh, no, you can't.
“Well, at least I can take care of myself when I'm awake. It gets a bit problematic when I'm sleeping. Maybe I'll get myself a big junkyard dog. How's that sound?”

He turned those gray eyes on her and the fierceness there backed her up a step. “I'm the only big junkyard dog you'll ever need. Deal with it.”

“I don't want you.” All right, so there were degrees of wanting. She didn't want him trailing her to the Forever Young Beauty Salon and Spa, ready to lop off Gaston's head if he cut too much off the bottom.

But yeah, a little self-honesty never hurt anyone. She could feel the slide of her fangs every time she thought of him in her bed, or on her floor, or hell, in her closet. Who cared. The place was incidental. Just imagining the hard thrust of his body into hers curled her insides into tight steel coils.

Conall studied her. After maybe a century, she'd get the hang of that expressionless mask other vampires wore so well. Right now, though, he could read every emotion in those green eyes.

They had something in common. He didn't want to be her protector, and she didn't want his protecting. But no matter how hard he denied it, there was lust between them, an ocean of it. He was kicking and flailing away like crazy, but the sex tide was dragging him in deeper and deeper.

He stopped walking outside the Sultan's Palace. “Let's apply logic to this situation.”

She grinned up at him. “Logic is good.”

“You're a vampire, so you can hold your own from dusk till dawn. But after that? Look what almost happened tonight. Locks will keep out humans, but not beings like Asima. I can make it hard for someone to get to you during the day.” He'd have a talk with Eric. The vampire had enough power to throw a mind shield over any door that would keep humans and nonhumans out. Maybe he could teach Gerry how to do that.

“Makes sense.” She looked like she was really considering it.

Conall pressed his advantage. “I can help with your job. Sure you have vampire strength and speed, but Jinx almost got to you. If you're hunting nonhumans, some of them will be more powerful than you are. Then what? Morrigan gave me the physical strength to protect you against almost anything.”

“You know, it might work.” Her expression turned calculating. “I could use you.”

Use me, babe.
He pushed the thought aside as soon as it surfaced. The part of him that craved using had no working brain cells.

“My boss asked me to stay here for a few more nights. He got a tip that a serial wife killer was in the castle.” She frowned. “I'm just supposed to identify and observe, not try to apprehend him. Burke will do the actual takedown. Anyway, it would mean a promotion if I could catch this guy before Burke gets a crack at him. You could help.”

“Burke?” A serial killer in the castle? Holgarth would have to get on this fast. Publicity brochures would
not
tempt future guests with promises of good food, comfortable beds, exciting fantasies,
and
their very own encounter with a serial killer.

“My boss doesn't think I'm powerful enough to handle the really dangerous criminals. He's sending in someone more experienced. That would be Burke. I'd like to prove him wrong.”

Not good. Sure, Conall craved action, but he didn't want to spend centuries saving her cute behind from homicidal entities. See, he was mellowing. He could actually admit that, yes, a Kavanagh behind could be cute.

“I still have a problem, though. I can't sense nonhumans. That'll come with age, but until then . . .”

“You're screwed.”

“Yeah.”

“I might be able to help with that.” Pulling out his cell phone, he called Brynn. And while he was at it, he mentioned the serial killer. When he finished talking, he guided Gerry toward a nearby bench. “Brynn, Kim, and Fo will be here in a few minutes.”

“Okay, I know that Brynn is one of your fake brothers, so I assume Kim is his wife. Who's Fo?”

“Someone who'll be a big help while you're here.” Conall rested his arm across the top of the bench behind her. He spent the next endless minutes controlling his need to slide his fingers through the silky length of her hair.

Jeez, it was almost a week before Brynn and Kim showed up. His forehead was damp with his effort to keep from touching Gerry. “Took you guys long enough.”

Brynn glanced at his watch. “Five minutes?”

“Seemed like it was longer.” He didn't meet Gerry's gaze. “Brynn, Kim, this is Gerry Kavanagh. Gerry, these are my friends. Brynn is an ex-demon of sensual desire. Kim's an architect.”

Brynn and Kim nodded at Gerry, but there was no warmth in the greeting.

Gerry met their coolness head-on. “Look, I can tell you guys don't like me. I get that Conall's told you about the Kavanaghs. But this Kavanagh doesn't want someone to serve and protect her forever. None of this is my fault. I have no control over what a psycho goddess does. But since I can't do anything about it right now, I'm trying to make the best of it.”

Kim nodded. “Makes sense. Brynn freaked me out when he told me what he was.” The glance she sent Brynn said she'd grown to love what he was. “But it wasn't his fault. Ganymede did the damage. I had to deal with it or cut and run.”

“Uh, who's going to introduce
me
?” The small voice came from Kim's shirt pocket.

Kim reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a camera phone. She flipped it open and turned it so Gerry could see the screen.