by Ann Macela
“Your being able to join us proves others can,” Dorothy said. “What’s our next step?”
“Demonstrate our method,” Rosa stated.
Everyone nodded, including Saxt, who added, “And measure your output at the same time. You do realize that you’ve completely screwed the Council’s plans?”
“What a shame,” Jazara drawled, and everyone laughed.
“Seriously,” Clyde asked, “how do you think the Councils will react?”
Saxt glanced around the table and grinned. “They’re going to love it. A couple of members will be shocked and mumble about tradition, but when they see it in action, they’ll be won over. I mean, my God, zap! No more evil item, in a minimal amount of time and a burst of effort. And a minimal amount of exposure to the evil. I’ll call a few Council members tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised to find them here tomorrow to see it for themselves.”
“We need to be ready to train teams after the demo,” Johanna said. “Once we bring our method out into the open, everybody’s going to want to try it.”
“Oh, man,” Pat moaned. “We’re going to set off a stampede of people wanting us to teach them. Do any of us have the time? I sure don’t. I’ve got plumbing jobs backed up out the wazoo.”
“Don’t worry,” Johanna said. “Training past tomorrow will definitely fall to the masters, as it always does.”
Jazara pulled out a notebook and pen from her purse. “Okay, I need a schedule. What exactly are we doing tomorrow?”
That comment started a thorough discussion of timing, prep work, the actual demonstration, and the schedule.
“Here’s what I have,” Jazara said after writing one final notation. “First, we alert everyone to come to the arena tomorrow morning at ten for a new demo. Second, we show how our method works, and we destroy an item. Clyde will give the play-by-play, and Saxt will join Johanna to show that someone new to the process can do it.”
“We’ll destroy a level-ten piece of the Stone,” Clyde interjected. “That will certainly get everyone’s attention.”
“Third and afterward,” Jazara continued, “spend the rest of the day training in ring generation only. Johanna trains the teaching masters before lunch. Fourth, the final dinner to discuss the event and the process and next steps and sign up for future training. Everyone goes home tonight or tomorrow—maybe. I still maintain that a bunch of people will stay for more.”
“What about the Swords?” Johanna asked. “They’re going to be itching to use the increased power.”
“Why don’t I meet with all the Swords present, team or Indie, before lunch, and explain the destruction technique,” Clyde suggested. “Don’t worry, Johanna, I’ll emphasize safety and beginning with the lowest-possible-level item.”
“Tomorrow the teams who want to practice after initial training can use the training rooms,” Jim said. “We have plenty of those, and moving the trained will leave the big arena for the untrained teams.”
“What about the Indies?” Pat asked. “Where do they fit in?”
“I’ll meet with them separately after lunch,” Saxt answered. “Let them observe until then. Johanna, if you’ll work with me, maybe we can have them try out ring generation in makeshift teams.”
Johanna wasn’t happy with his solution, but she could think of no other. “Okay. The masters can either help us train or work with individual teams. We’ll use the small arena for the Indies.”
“I’ll bring Gary and Herb up to speed, too,” Saxt said and added with a laugh, “I can’t wait to see their faces. They never envisioned power like this.”
“One other thing to take into consideration before we let everybody loose to destroy whatever item they want to take on,” Clyde said. “We haven’t tried the new method on any really powerful evil magic items. The one today was a level ten. There’s no telling what either remnant of the Cataclysm Stone was, but I’d put them in the eighteen-to-twenty range. The larger pieces of the Stone, especially the center, should be approached with utmost caution.”
“Let’s get with the Keepers of the Vault so they have some rules about releasing any items to a team,” Johanna said. “Perhaps the average level of a team could be the determining factor for which level of evil item they are allowed to destroy.”
“I’ll speak with the Council members tomorrow, and we’ll start a study on the history and future possibilities for evil-item destruction,” Saxt said. “Looks like we’re going to be very busy.”
“Let’s all have a good night’s sleep,” Clyde ordered. “We’re going to need every ounce of energy tomorrow—magic and otherwise. Remember, meet in the large arena at nine o’clock.”
“Let me walk you to your car,” Saxt said to Johanna while they shrugged into their coats. “I have a couple of questions about Ben.”
On the way down in the elevator with everyone else, Saxt remarked that he was more exhausted than he expected to be. He thought he hadn’t been using all that much of his own energy as he drew it from the ring. Rosa and Jim commiserated, noting that all that power rushing in and out of their centers took its toll.
Johanna was quiet as she slipped her gloves on. Her slight apprehension—if it wasn’t that, what was it?—grew when she realized she and Saxt would be alone on the long hike to her car. Because they usually came only to practice and gather at Dorothy’s afterward, the rest of the team parked close to the hotel/condo building in the extensive underground space. She, on the other hand, went every morning directly to the Defenders building, the farthest from all the others, and was used to walking to her car alone.
In the parking garage, she and Saxt said good night to the team, and she pointed down the long concrete road between the parking spaces. “It’s quite a trek. If you’re tired, we could always talk in the morning.”
“That’s okay. I need the exercise.” His smile was gentle and friendly. “Here, let me take that.”
Before she could stop him, he lifted her soft-sided briefcase out of her hand and slung his own robe over his shoulder. “Lead on. The garage is larger than I realized. Quite the maze.”
“What did you want to ask about Ben?” she asked when he was silent for several strides.
“When are you going to start his Sword training?”
“Monday afternoon after school. We’ll go over energy control first. I have some exercises he and his mother can do together. When he cast his blade, he made one big fist of both hands, all his fingers interlaced, so he also needs to learn the correct way to hold a sword.”
“Ah, yes, the interlocking golf grip.” Saxt held out his hands and intertwined the little finger of his left and the index finger of his right to lock them together.
Johanna made a mental note of the fact that, from his hand placement, Saxt was left-handed. She hadn’t noticed that before. If he participated in right-handed Ben’s training, she’d have to be sure the boy understood to use the grip that worked for him.
“You know, now that I think of it,” Saxt continued, “Chuck didn’t use the right grip either. He was holding his like a baseball bat. To make him sheathe his blade without a spell backfire, I had to simultaneously tug while pushing his hands together. He must have felt the heat in his palms because he flinched before finally cancelling his spell. Bellman obviously didn’t teach him the grip. He also didn’t explain what happens when you don’t cancel the spell and your hands come apart while holding an active blade. The boy could have been badly burned.”
Johanna rubbed a painful spot in the middle of her forehead and sighed. “Phil and his antics give me a headache. I hope he follows Jake’s orders and stays away from the students. I know the teaching masters will come down hard on him.”
“As will the Committee on Swords.” His implacable tone left no doubt. “What’s with Bellman? Why is he so determined to duel?”
“It’s his way of asserting his superiority over the rest of us, I guess,” she answered. “Especially me. After all, I’m on a team, and he isn’t. Becoming C
huck’s teacher is probably another manifestation of that.”
She stopped and placed a hand on his forearm to halt him also. He immediately covered her hand with his, and heat from his ungloved hand sent warmth all the way to her center. When she looked up, she felt herself falling again into his gaze, even shadowed as it was by the sparse lighting in the garage. Her center heated and sent a distinct sense of well-being and contentment to every cell in her. She could feel her soul rejoicing.
Somehow, later—how long her reverie lasted she didn’t know—she blinked, came back to herself. She tried to take her hand from his, but he didn’t let go.
Focus, woman. What had she been about to say? Oh, yes. Phil. She had to clear her throat to speak. “Listen, I need to tell you something important about Phil. It’s probably the most important reason nobody wants him on their team. Don’t ever join a group with him that’s destroying an evil item.”
Saxt frowned, blinked also, as if he was surprised by her topic—or had he been mesmerized like she was? “Is he that bad with his blade?”
“It’s not his blade. It’s his inability to share. The man’s an energy hog. He soaks up all the power in the ring and leaves almost nothing for the Sword across the pedestal from him. He can exhaust the Defenders supplying power. I don’t know what he’ll do with the new method. With the old, he causes such an imbalance that the other Sword can be left defenseless, with no power to draw on. Phil’s energy grab is terribly unsafe for the entire team because items like the Cataclysm Stone search for weaknesses and attack them. We’ve all tried and tried to make him realize what he’s doing, but he can’t or won’t change.”
“Can’t he control his intake?”
“The three times he’s practiced with us under the old method, he seemed to get caught up in the excitement and unable to let go. On the other hand, he’s not above putting on an act to impress. Or, he could simply enjoy being the center of attention. He refuses to admit he has a problem. Claims his energy well is bigger than anybody else’s and needs all the power. Boasts that nobody can keep up with him. I don’t trust him one little bit.”
Saxt’s mouth twisted with disgust. “Why hasn’t someone reported him to the Committee on Swords for not following the safety regs? Called him to task? Forced him to learn control? To stop acting like a spoiled brat?”
Johanna shrugged. “Probably because, since everybody here knows him, we’ve managed to neutralize him by not accepting him into a team. Ours and the other three local ones won’t practice with him either. Not after the last time. He does have a small clique of Indie followers, three or four of them, all Defenders, who’ll do whatever he says. I haven’t heard they’ve tried operating as a team, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they do, especially now.”
“No one has requested team certification from the Council, I can tell you that. What about a formal complaint?”
She sighed again and shook her head. “I don’t see anybody filing a complaint. It wouldn’t be worth the hassle from him that’s bound to follow. Phil’s extremely vindictive and sneaky—nasty comments, hurtful rumors. If anyone calls him on the truth of his statements, he claims the person ‘misunderstood’ him, he shuts up for a while, and he starts over at the next criticism. You saw him in action today over my being a ‘coward.’ Also, until this mess with Chuck, he’s never made an overt, unauthorized move we can point to as a reason for a committee report. We’ve basically lived with the situation and ignored him as much as we can.”
“He seems determined to join your team,” Saxt said.
“He makes no sense. First he wants to duel, then he calls me a coward, then he wants to be on our team. Some of my teenaged students are more mature than he is. I don’t understand why he’s singled us out.” She considered telling Saxt about the coming retirement, but decided not to. That announcement was Clyde’s to make, and Phil could not possibly have discovered their plans. His statement last night about being Clyde’s replacement had to be a lucky guess or wishful thinking on his part.
“The Committee on Swords knows about him now, and we’re not going to ignore his activities. We can order retraining and conformance with safety rules. If the Merlin Office does monitor replacements for team members, we’ll watch him very carefully.” Saxt broke eye contact to stare off into the distance, a hard expression suddenly replacing his former interested one. “I’ll keep an eye on him. We can’t afford bullies or reckless behavior in our work.”
Johanna had a moment of feeling sorry for whoever became the recipient of the thoughts behind those words. Then she realized that, not only did his hand still hold hers captive, he had slid his fingers inside her coat sleeve, and he was slowly rubbing the bare skin above her gloves.
The man’s touch was like a heater—exactly what she needed on a cold winter night. She felt warm all over.
Wait! What? She tugged her hand out from under his, and a small chill made her shiver. She used the hand to point. “My car’s right over by the elevator.”
She knew his gaze was on her again, and she strode resolutely to her dark blue Nissan, pulled the keys from her pocket, and pushed the unlock button on the key. Opening the driver-side back door, she waved at the seat. “If you’ll put my case in here …”
He complied with her request and closed the rear door while she opened the front one and threw her purse over the center console to the passenger seat. When she turned to face him, he braced one hand on the car top and the other on the open door. When a man had taken this stance in the past, she’d felt trapped. Now, however, this man’s open arms appeared totally inviting.
Johanna stifled her sudden desire to throw herself into those arms and dragged her mind to the situation at hand. “Was there something else you wanted to talk about? Would you like a ride to the hotel?”
“No, to the last, but thanks. As for the first, only to ask if I may sit in on Ben’s training.”
“Sure.” What other answer could she give? She got into the car. “We’ll be in one of the practice rooms in the Defender building at four-thirty Monday. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Drive safely.” He shut the door and took two steps backward. After she backed out of the space, he smiled and waved.
Johanna waved in return and drove off, both sorry to leave him and happy they’d see each other tomorrow. It wasn’t until she reached the HeatherRidge main gate that she wondered at her inexplicable feelings. Was she developing a crush on the man? Impossible. She didn’t do crushes. What was this push/pull—mostly pull toward him, not push away as with other men? What in the world was going on in her head?
Her center vibrated in a funny little dance. Her head wasn’t the only problem.
Chapter Eight
Oooh, that felt sooooo good.
Soooo arousing.
Soooo right.
From her nape all the way down to her knees, his hands stroked her naked back, then reversed themselves. Her skin tingled when they passed, heated when they stopped to massage tense muscles. If she opened her eyes, she knew she’d see both of them almost glowing with love and desire.
He gently turned her over and kissed her. The kiss started as a light, warm caress, but it escalated in a heartbeat into an incendiary meeting of lips and tongue. She heard herself moan when he cupped her breast, felt herself arch when he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled, and, oh, when his hand drifted down to play between her legs … she could feel her climax begin to build, every muscle in her body go taut, her heart race, her lungs strain to keep up … and … and …
And Johanna woke up, tangled in the covers and her flannel pajamas, struggling to pull air into overworked lungs, to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest, and to deal with the aftermath of a climax that hadn’t happened.
She lay quietly for a couple of minutes before her breathing and pulse rate returned to near normal—but then a new sensation invaded her body. One she hadn’t felt for a long, long time.
Emptiness.
S
he was empty.
So empty, so hollow, so alone, so utterly lonely, she wanted to cry.
Get hold of yourself. It was only a dream.
She sat up and straightened the blankets. Peered at the clock. Almost three in the morning. Burrowed into the bed again. Tossed one way, flopped the other. Her lungs resumed their regular rise and fall, and her heartbeat slowed. Her blood, however, still raced around. Significant body parts still ached. She rubbed them. It didn’t help.
After a quick trip to the bathroom and a drink of water, she began to feel almost like her usual self. Back in bed, she adjusted the electric blanket control and ordered herself to relax under its soothing warmth.
Her thoughts flew, of course, right to where they had been—before she woke up.
What a dream! She hadn’t had one of those in a long time. In fact, she couldn’t remember how long ago. This one had been different, however. Not a replay of the past. Her lover had been more sure of himself, his kisses hotter, his lovemaking more intense. She had desired him like never before.
Something else wasn’t the same. What was …
Oh, my God! Her lover!
He hadn’t been Billy!
Who, then?
Saxt! He was Saxton Falkner!
No! He couldn’t have been. If she closed her eyes and replayed what she could remember of the dream, she’d know …
Oh, God, he was Saxt. She could see his eyes, not Billy’s green, but Saxt’s light brown with the darker rim. The warm brown that went molten when he looked at her. She could feel his hands, not the hands of a young man, learning about pleasure for both of them, but those of a mature man, knowing about a woman and love-making. Hands that could excite her blood, draw out responses, give her exquisite pleasure.
Johanna moaned and pulled her knees up to hug them and rock back and forth.
What was going on? She’d never, never, never felt even the slightest desire for any man since Billy. She had pledged to love him until she died. How could she be thinking about anyone else? Dreaming about another man in such a … compromising position? A tiny wave of guilt washed over her—like she’d been cheating.