Erecting Barriers

by L. J. Vickery

  “I know you’re fully capable of taking care of yourself.” Her hand came up and…what? She almost ran the back of her fingers down his arm, but jerked away at the last moment. His prick stirred, interested in the goings-on. She let her hand fall. “I, umm, thought that when you get back, I, uh, I wouldn’t mind getting together, maybe for lunch, to talk about things.”

  Ken remembered swallowing dryly. “Things” could mean a lot of stuff. Everything from curiosity about his job, to an extra gig doing security, to “I really like you, and don’t you think it would be nice if we got to know each other?” He’d studied her face for a split second and noted the seriousness of her expression, hoping for the latter.

  “Lunch would be great.” He thought of the busy kitchen where there would be many ears listening, and no privacy, and had a better idea. “How about I get some takeout on my way home and I’ll meet you in the nursery?”

  “Takeout?” She crinkled her nose, and he couldn’t help but laugh. What an idiot. A goddess wouldn’t know about takeout.

  “Just leave it to me,” he assured her. Ken had seen Vesca eat, and knew that she loved everything. Chinese? Italian? Maybe he’d make a stop in the North End for cannoli. She’d love those. Feeding a baby like Girin, ravenous all the time, made it necessary for her to keep her calories up or risk depletion. He’d help her with her milk production. Shit. Ken started thinking about Vesca’s magnificent breasts, which made his cock even harder, and the towel in danger of not covering what it needed to. He had to get rid of her before he embarrassed both of them. Ken dared to reach out and rest his hands on her shoulders, feeling their softness through her diaphanous robe.

  “I’ll find the food,” he assured the goddess, before turning her around. “Now let me get dressed before I do something I might regret.” Dumb-ass. That comment slipped before he could coral his brain. He couldn’t take it back. She’d either regret that she approached him, or be relieved she received confirmation of his interest.

  Ken hadn’t waited to hear her response. He gave her a playful shove down the hall and closed the door behind her. If she’d given him the least little opening, he probably would have kissed the shit out of her, and how would she have taken that?

  He turned and leaned on the wooden doorframe for several minutes, trying to calm down. The thought had come―and been quickly thrust away―that he had time to take matters in hand and relieve his iron cock, but he didn’t want to muddy his feelings,―which vacillated between goddess-on-a-pedestal and lust―until he found out which held greater sway.

  He’d become hard again, thinking about it, and had a hell of a time zipping his jeans.

  Ken’s mind returned to his driving. He almost breathed a sigh of relief. The clearing up ahead where he’d turn onto Chickatawbut, was only yards away. But before he could fully relax, a flash of color tore his gaze from the road. A large body landed on their still-moving hood, hitting with a solid thump.

  “What the hell?” Ken hit the brakes, wondering if he’d killed a hiker. His heart in his throat, he almost opened the door, when a blond head turned in his direction. Ken’s blood ran cold. The asshole Matthew sent a malicious smile through the thin glass of the windshield. Without thinking Ken reached across the seat and shoved Angie down. “Stay low,” he commanded, going for his gun. Matthew’s hand came crashing through the glass and wrapped around Ken’s throat before he could free the weapon from his jacket.

  “Well, well.” The smarmy voice grated in the agent’s ear. “If it isn’t the brother to little Charlie.” The two had met in California when Bel and Matthew had thought to abduct his sister.

  Matthew used his god-strength to drag Ken out through the broken windshield while sparing a glance for Angie. “Hah. The wrong witch,” he acknowledged into Ken’s reddening face, now bloodied with cuts from the jagged glass. “She and her mother are too old to become Chosen.”

  Matthew knew the two, having visited their house in Plymouth a number of months before. “She’s a waste of my time.”

  Ken took the moment of distraction to bring his hands up between Matthew’s wrists and come down hard on his forearms, breaking the chokehold. Unfortunately, it had him dropping like a rock to the hood where he got the breath knocked out of him. Matthew came at him again, and Ken barely rolled to the side, ending up on the ground. The fall became the least of his worries as he looked up and saw the god about to follow.

  Angie, bless her heart, had not taken his advice to lay low, and leaned on the horn. Hopefully it would attract attention. It did a hell of a number on his ears. He could only hope Matthew, with his superior god-hearing, experienced more of an issue.

  Matthew launched toward Ken but the agent readied. Elbows raised, he used the impact of the god’s body to drive into the tender points just below Matthew’s clavicle. His opponent howled and bounced off to the left, rolling farther from the car.

  Ken yelled, hoping Angie would hear his cry. “Go, Angie. Go. Drive. Now.” He didn’t care what happened to him, as long as the witch made it to safety. He struggled to come to his feet and his opponent did the same. They circled each other, warily.

  “You can’t win, you know,” Matthew gloated. “I’m a god now.”

  “Yeah,” Ken agreed to one part of the statement, reaching once again for his gun, “a god-damned ass-wipe.” He whipped the sidearm out, but before he could register movement, Matthew got in his face again, this time pinioning his arms to his sides before Ken could raise his weapon. The god shook his arm like a dog’s chew toy and the agent’s regulation Glock fell to the ground.

  “Not nice trying to shoot me.” Matthew squeezed hard, but Ken still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He’d been at the compound for weeks, practicing with immortals, and they hadn’t been easy on him. They’d shown him what to do to survive.

  He let his body go limp, surprising his enemy, and hooked one foot around back of Matthew’s knee, yanking toward him with all his strength. The two bodies went crashing back to the ground.

  With one eye on his gun in the dirt, Ken grappled with Matthew, momentarily getting the better of his adversary by balancing on top and sending a hand up to crunch the fine bones in Matthew’s nose. He lurched off the god, going for his weapon, but despite the tears momentarily blinding the immortal, the god managed to leap to his feet and land a booted kick into Ken’s ribs, sending him rolling feet away from his firearm.

  In his pain-filled brain, the agent knew Angie had failed to drive away, but wondered whether she’d been able to use her cell phone to call back to the compound for help. The way Matthew fought, this would be over soon if reinforcements didn’t arrive. And a damned shame, too, neither he nor the witch could do that helpful head-talk thing.

  Matthew stalked toward him, and at the same time he vaguely heard the crunch of tires on gravel. He groaned. This couldn’t be good. They didn’t need some innocent bystander getting in the way. Or worse, killed.

  Ken groaned as one car door, then another sounded.

  “He’s dangerous.” Ken yelled with all the wind left in him, certain he had at least one broken rib from where he’d been kicked. Would the arrivals take heed and leave? Matthew brought him to his feet again, this time with two hands wrapped into the collar of his jacket, before letting go and tearing a knife from an underarm sheath. He squared off in a fighting stance, prepared to skewer Ken. The agent faced away from the new additions to the scene, and had no clue if they were friend or foe. His question got answered quickly.

  Ken didn’t know whether to moan, or laugh as the fruitless command filtered in over his head.

  “This is the police. Drop the weapon and put your hands up.” Ken knew if he could turn to look, two .45 Smith and Wessons would be pointing directly at them. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Angie opened her door and waved a hand. His own Glock flew through the air toward the cops. She knew what they didn’t; their guns were useless against the god. Ken needed to warn them.

  “Get her and leave
.” he called, with all the strength he had left. “You can’t hurt him.” It would make no sense to the two humans, but maybe Angie could convince them.

  Matthew plunged forward with the knife aimed for Ken’s sternum, but the agent grabbed the god’s hand and held it fast, quivering with the strength it took to keep it mere inches away from his flesh. At the same time, his brain’s synapses fired. A kick to the gut? No. Abs were never a weak spot for immortals, but balls were. Ken leaned in and brought a knee up as hard as he could. A rank move, but he had no choice. He had to use everything in his arsenal, or die. He thought of the lunch date he’d made. It would suck to croak now.

  “Flat on the ground or we’ll shoot.” The cops barked orders again. Ken knew they meant him as well as Matthew. They couldn’t discern good guy from bad at this point. He took his chances, and while the deity doubled over, he went to his stomach. If they didn’t incapacitate the god in the next few seconds, that knife would be buried in his back.

  “Tell them to use my firearm, Angie.” He looked over. She’d made her way to the police car and talked low and frantically. He could see the officers shaking their heads, gazes fixed on the combatants, not wanting to be distracted.

  Ken witnessed the witch’s sleight of hand, and quick as a flash, one pointed gun magically became replaced by his. The officer bellowed at Matthew, now poised to strike. He felt the whoosh of air that preceded the boot that connected, solidly with his head, and vaguely heard a shot being fired.

  A roar emerged from the god’s throat but still he lifted Ken up. With god-speed, and Ken’s last coherent understanding before losing consciousness, Matthew whisked them both away.

  Chapter Eleven

  A group of gods arrived, Jake in the forefront, but they were too late. Matthew had absconded with Ken seconds before. The two state police looked baffled, and in their confusion, they pointed their guns around dangerously.

  “Hold.” Jake used his best authoritative tone. “DEA agent Jake Marsthall.” He put one hand in the air, and with the other, slowly reached for his credentials. He unfolded the leather protecting his badge and held it up, high. The two police moved warily forward.

  “What the hell just happened?” The senior of the pair didn’t lower the gun he pointed at the newcomers, but came forward to snag Jake’s ID. The newly made god came up with an explanation on the fly, and did an admirable job.

  “The male you just lost,” he gave them an accusing look worthy of any commanding officer, “kidnapped this woman who is a key witness in an upcoming drug trial.” Jake pointed to Angie, who gave an imperceptible nod. “The perpetrator, Matthew Van Kuran is considered armed and dangerous.” As the officers finally lowered their guns, Jake ran a distressed hand down his face. “And now he’s got my man.”

  Jake cursed, pissed at himself. Pissed at the officers for not killing Matthew with the weapon that had been Ken’s, and anxious to contact his team back in LA to start tracking his missing agent via his GPS implant. Thank the gods Ken had been on the charger the night before.

  “Where did he go?” The younger of the two officers didn’t pretend he hadn’t just seen some weird-ass things. “And how did Phil get that gun in his hand?”

  “You’ll have answers to everything,” Jake assured him. He nodded to Marduk. Time to do a little mind-altering. They’d let the police have some knowledge of what had gone down, but wipe the unexplainable events. While Marduk moved in to do his thing, Jake plucked the cell phone from his pocket and punched speed dial for his office on the west coast.

  “Gramps.” He growled, sending orders to his computer guy. “We have a problem. Enemy immortals have Ken.” Jake felt free to talk. All his agents knew the score with the gods, and the cops were busy getting “debriefed”. “Activate his tracking system now, and find out where he’s been taken.”

  The ins and outs of gods, energy signatures, and Lauernley were still a bit of a jumble to the agent, but while he waited for coordinates, he quickly figured it would have to be a human or a witch to go after Ken, to remain undetected. With that in mind, he mobilized his men. “Time to get your asses to the east coast. Don’t wait for a commercial flight. I need you here now. Take a charter and put it on the government tab. These guys will reimburse it.” Marduk had told him to ignore costs in an emergency, so he made the promise freely. He hung up and Dorian appeared.

  “What the hell happened?” The warlock approached Angie while asking the question of anyone who would care to answer. Jake wound up to give him the scoop, when the dark man’s daughter, secure in his arms, filled him in.

  “Ken saved my life, and Matthew took him.” She shook.

  Jake could see the seriousness of what had just occurred catch up with her. In her father’s protective embrace, Angie gave the warlock a blow by blow. Jake took note and despite the twist in his gut over Ken’s fate, he couldn’t help but be proud of his man. Ken had done a fine job protecting Angie.

  Lenore appeared, along with some of the other women, and pried Angie out of Dorian’s arms. The goddesses crowded around, soothing the shaken witch. Vesca stood with the group, Tess having stayed behind with the baby. The nursemaid scanned the area, then flicked over it again.

  “Where’s Ken?” she asked, her voice shrill. She looked around, accusingly. Jake knew she’d blame him. As Ken’s boss, Jake’s oath kept his team safe. And he’d failed.

  “Taken.” He spit out the one word. “Matthew and Beletseri have him.” He held up his hand to forestall more questions. “We’re tracking him now, and my team will be here in five hours to go after him.”

  “Five hours.” She rounded on Marduk. “That’s too long. What about you? Why don’t the gods go retrieve him right now?”

  Jake felt Marduk’s frustration with every syllable of his answer.

  “With our god-energy, the pair would know we were coming, and they’d harm Ken, or kill him before we could do anything.” He put a hand on her shaking arm. Apparently her feelings for Ken ran far deeper than anyone suspected. “We’ll have to wait for the guys from California.”

  “She’s right. It’s too long.” Dorian’s powerful voice interrupted. “Who knows what will happen to him in that length of time.” His words rang true, and Jake shook his head, not allowing the thought that Ken could already be dead, but his ears perked up as Dorian continued. “I’m one of the two powerful beings here whom they won’t be able to track.” He looked over at Bee-Dee, the only other witch with clout, engaged in a huddle with her relatives. “And no, I won’t involve my cousin. Being a Chosen, she’s the one they really want to get their hands on.”

  Jake and Dorian both recognized the storm rising in her face, denial on her tongue. Jake placated her.

  “If he gets into trouble, he’ll call you,” Jake assured. “Besides, Kulla would go nuts if we let you out of our sight.” Her shoulders dropped. She couldn’t leave Kulla now, and the agent knew it.

  Dorian nodded, clearly satisfied that one fire had been doused. He turned to Jake again. “As soon as you know Ken’s location, I’ll go. I may not be able to get him free, but I can keep him safe until your men arrive.”

  Jake saw promise in Dorian’s plan. He almost agreed when Marduk―who’d stood aside up until this point―looked at him and squashed the latter part of the scheme. “You’re forgetting the demons. Dorian will be all right, but your guys? Even if Bel and Matthew remain uncloaked, there will be invisible demons patrolling at all times. Your men won’t be able to see them and will be wiped out without a chance in hell of fighting back.”

  Jake bristled. “Send one of the blue guys, too.”

  “That won’t work. Their energy is detectable just like ours.” Marduk burst his bubble. They were both deep in thought for another venue, when Dorian gave a short, barking laugh.

  “I just thought of something,” he smirked. “We have another being here who can detect demons. Actually two beings.” At the puzzled faces, he shrugged and waved a hand through the air, raising a small
wind. When the breeze died down, a pair of cats sat at Dorian’s feet.

  “Wizarr and Planchette can both see demons and ghosts, a primal skill also shared by most non-supernatural cats and dogs. What makes them different, is that I can communicate with them, and once I let them know their job, we can set up a series of signals to warn your men if demons are approaching.”

  For Jake, this was almost too much. His guys would be led into dangerous territory with magic felines for protection? He wanted to believe Dorian, considering all the weird things he’d witnessed, but talking to cats?

  “You need a demonstration?” The warlock’s brow rose.

  Dorian scowled, impatient, but Jake needed proof these pets could perform. They hadn’t yet received a call on Ken’s whereabouts.

  “Yeah. I do. Sorry.” Jake waited and watched while Dorian stared into two pairs of bright yellow eyes.

  “All right. They’re ready.” He bent to address one cat. “Wizarr, if Angie, Addie, Lenore and Bee-Dee were demons, how would you alert the agents?” The cat sidled a few steps forward and dropped to its ample belly. He thrust one paw forward and dragged a line in the dirt that pointed at the women. Then he did the most peculiar thing. He sneezed four times.

  “That’s my boy,” Dorian reached down and gave the cat a head rub, then turned to Jake. “Dropping down means demons nearby. The line he draws will point in the direction of the danger, and the sneezing will tell you the number of enemy. It’s all your men should need to avoid trouble.”

  “Shit. Who knew?” He’d been steering clear of the cats because they seemed a little…volatile. Now they were their best hope for success. It went beyond belief that they could keep his men safe, but he needed to trust.

  “What about the other one?” He studied Planchette questioningly. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the pussy rolled her eyes at him.