by Sandy James
Hell, he’d been downright obsessed. Who could blame him? The woman was gorgeous. Vivid red hair. Eyes the color of a summer sky. Muscular and tall and round in all the right places. Enough chutzpah to take on a dozen revenants single-handed. How could he not be drawn to her?
Not that he’d ever let her know. No, this was business. His adolescent infatuation would have to pass. Fraternization between Sentinel and Amazon was forbidden.
It’ll pass. Sometime soon, it’ll pass.
Yeah, right.
After nearly two years, Johann’s fascination had only grown stronger. The last time he’d visited Avalon, the Amazon’s home base, he’d confided in Artair MacKay. The man was a Sentinel and had found himself in a similar situation. Plus he had three hundred years of sage advice bottled up inside him.
When Artair had fallen in love with Rebecca Massee, they’d risked angering the goddesses to be together. Ultimately, her goddess, Rhiannon, approved of the match. Johann held out no hope the goddesses would ever allow that pattern to repeat. Not that Megan would have him. He’d been treated with more kindness by his basic training drill sergeant in his days in the Army.
No, Megan didn’t feel the same draw. Artair had advised Johann to give up his own frustrated attraction and let Fire be Fire. Fire Amazons were impossible for one man to hold—even if that man was a Sentinel.
This Fire was burning like a wildfire during a drought, and Johann was there to bring her back into control or forever put out the flames.
“I’m setting up in one of the bedrooms,” he finally said, grabbing the nylon bag holding his new laptop. “Which one do you want me to take?”
Megan shrugged again and fiddled with the remote. “I guess you can take the blue one.” She shivered. “That girl’s dead, Johann.”
Johann. Not Joeman.
He knew Megan never wanted to need anyone else. Ever. She’d always fancied herself a lone wolf. Her only subtle way of showing something might be too much for her to handle alone was to drop her sarcasm. She had a weakness—she cared about people.
If only he could offer her comfort, but he had none to give. “I think so too.”
A shuddering sigh slipped from her lips. “How are we gonna tell that poor woman her daughter’s dead?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“I’ll turn that guy to ashes, you know.” She started flipping channels faster than she could know what she was watching. A waft of sweet-smelling smoke reached him, reminding him of the cherry-flavored tobacco his father used to smoke. “I’ll turn him into a pile of smoldering ash.”
“Who?”
“Maksim Popov. If he’s responsible, I’ll fry his ass.”
“Megan, you can’t go around half—”
“Cocked?” Her lopsided grin was far too appealing. “I wonder what Sigmund Freud would think about you using that particular term so much. Do you have penis envy, Joeman?”
“Bite me.”
Johann slipped down the hall before he got into another scrap with his Fire. Air and Water were so much easier to manage. Their training had been a simple first assignment. They listened to him and followed his orders. And Earth was Artair’s wife.
But Fire?
Megan obviously needed him, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
The first thing he noticed when he poked his head into the closest bedroom was the smoke detector hanging open on the ceiling. The compartment for the battery was empty, the wires dangling loose. A mussed bed. Piles of dirty camo and black clothes. A dresser cluttered with matchbooks and candles.
Between the dresser and bed rested a large air-cleaning machine humming in a low drone. Two empty, twisted blister packs of nicotine gum sat in the center of the bed next to a black teddy bear. Two swords with ruby-encrusted hilts leaned against the wall.
Megan’s room.
An old-fashioned silver Zippo lighter lying on top of the matchbooks caught his eye—it had belonged to Sparks, the last generation’s Fire. She’d left the Amazons to follow Helen’s insane crusade to take over the world. In the end, she’d come to her senses, recognized Helen for what she was and died saving Artair. Megan had looked up to Sparks as a mentor. When they lost Sparks, Megan claimed to have accepted the woman’s death. The conspicuous presence of the lighter told him she wasn’t entirely over the loss.
Sparks was one of the reasons Johann was with Megan now. The goddesses were so angry over the betrayal by Sparks and Helen, they wanted to keep a tight leash on the current Amazons. Any dissention would be swiftly and severely punished. Megan’s wildness could be her downfall.
With the exception of the out-of-place teddy bear, there was nothing feminine about the room. No pastel colors or flowery prints. White walls. A red quilt. None of the frilly things women seemed to like to keep. No brushes, hair ties or makeup. Just a big, furry black bear with a red ribbon tied around its neck. The only pictures were several framed snapshots of Megan with the other Amazons and a large print of the famous Life magazine cover where the sailor kissed the nurse at the end of World War II.
No, it wasn’t feminine. But just like the woman herself, it was beautiful.
For some odd reason, her bedroom pleased him.
Then he saw the scorch marks above the bed’s brass headboard. Just small, dark slashes, but against the white paint, they stood out as vivid as neon. A small gray fire extinguisher rested on the floor close to the tarnished brass headboard.
With a shake of his head, he moved to the next bedroom. “Modest” was the only way to describe the furnishings. A queen-size bed covered in a baby blue quilt. A nightstand with only a digital clock as adornment. A small dresser with a single matchbook and a couple of fat candles.
Perfect.
Johann set the case down on the bed, unzipped it and pulled out his laptop. With the help of his technologically superior hardware, he connected to the Internet a few moments later. Thanks to Rhiannon’s magicks, no DSL necessary.
His goddess gave him the best toys.
As if thinking about the Lady of the Lake was enough to conjure her, Rhiannon popped into the bedroom. She was dressed in a white gown, her skirts long enough to brush the carpet. Trimmed in red fox around the neck and wrists, the dress hugged her voluptuous body, and her blond hair fell down her back in a riot of curls.
He saluted her, fisting his right hand and thumping it over his heart as Artair had taught him.
“Johann,” she purred, gliding across the room to sit next to him on the bed. “You have arrived.” Her gaze wandered the room. “Such sparse accommodations. I can provide a much nicer place for you.”
“They’re fine, m’lady.”
Rhiannon glanced at his computer screen. “Do you like your new gadget? Is it what you wanted?”
She was in a good mood, which came as a relief after her hostility at their last meeting. For creatures with so much power at their fingertips, the patron goddesses were a catty, shallow bunch. They were spiteful, jealous and downright immature.
“I love it. Thank you.”
Another flash of light and Freya was in the room. Not a surprise since the goddesses were all keeping him on a short leash while he worked with Megan. That, and lately it seemed as though Rhiannon and Freya were far too involved in each other’s business. Where one went, the other tended to follow, and then the squabbling would begin again.
Freya stood there with her hands set against her hips, scowling at Rhiannon. “I believe I was to be the one to check on my Amazon’s progress.”
Johann saluted her. “I just got here, m’ladies. You both should give me some space and let me find out what’s going on with Megan.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket, and with a couple of touches, he was downloading Ashley Douglass’s e-mails.
Rhiannon slapped a palm on the matt
ress. “You may not forbid me from spending time with my Sentinel.”
“Our Sentinel,” Freya corrected. “And he is here at my bidding to help my Amazon.”
“Were you able to choose your Amazons with greater care—which I remind you I have often suggested—he would not be here taking her powers away.”
A small shower of fireworks flew from Freya’s hair. “He shall not take my Fire’s powers. She is the strongest Amazon, and we should not cripple her because of a few…mistakes. You defame her unjustly. Had your old Earth not gone insane—”
A gust of wind raced through the room, ruffling Johann’s hair. He brushed it back with his fingers and kept working. Having grown used to the goddesses’ temper tantrums, he knew not to get between them. Rhiannon’s anger usually resulted in a gale or ground tremors. Wind was more appropriate for Chicago.
“Helen is not insane. She merely…overstepped her boundaries,” Rhiannon insisted with a customary flip of her perfectly manicured hand.
“By declaring herself an Ancient?” Freya asked. “By claiming divinity as if she were one of us? ’Twas a blasphemy. Need I remind you she is now a goddess? You have yet to bring her to heel. You should not concern yourself with my Amazon’s trifle problems.”
“We are not here to discuss Helen,” Rhiannon said with another flick of her wrist. “We are here to decide what to do about your rogue Fire.”
“There’s nothing to decide, m’lady. I’ll take care of Megan,” Johann said.
“You’ll take care of me how?”
Shit.
He hadn’t seen Megan standing in the doorway. “I’m here to help you find Ashley.” It was just a fib, not an out-and-out lie—he was here to help find the girl. But his greater purpose weighed on his conscience.
“I came back here because I thought you’d gone schizophrenic. Sounded like you were having conversations with yourself.” Megan’s gaze fell on the goddesses. “Freya, it’s good to see you.” She nodded to the Lady of the Lake. “Rhiannon. Welcome to my home.”
Rhiannon put her pretty nose in the air. “Such as it is.” She directed a haughty stare at Freya. “I provide better accommodations for my Amazon. The home for Earth and my other Sentinel is much, much nicer.” She arched an eyebrow at Johann. “Would you like me to settle you in a nicer place, Sentinel?”
“No, thank you, m’lady.” He tried to work on Ashley’s files, but the divine catfight was making it impossible. He gave up and clipped his phone to his belt.
Blue sparks shot from Freya’s fingertips.
“I love this place,” Megan said. “I have much more than what I need.”
Freya gave an approving smile to Megan then frowned at Rhiannon. “You provide well, yet your Sentinel must fall on my benevolence.”
Wind whipped through the room again. Johann straightened his hair a second time.
Rhiannon’s eyes flashed red. “You insisted he stay close to Fire, and he has refused my benevolence.”
“I’m fine here, m’ladies,” Johann said, hoping to stop the growing tension between the goddesses. “Otherwise Megan and I would have to find a place to hook up all the time.”
Megan snorted a laugh. “Everything you say sounds dirty.”
He chose to ignore that.
Freya nodded to Johann. “I must be going. Sentinel, please call should you need to…explain anything. You will, of course, call upon me first before you make an important decision.”
She popped out before he could ask for details about the missing girl. Not that she would have told him anything anyway.
“I shall be going too,” Rhiannon announced. “We will chat soon.” She disappeared with her usual fanfare of light.
“What did you mean?” Megan asked. “You’ll take care of me how? And what’s up with the goddesses?”
“Like I told you at the bar, I’m here to help you learn some control.”
Johann pecked away at the laptop, hoping to avoid a discussion. It was too soon. He hadn’t had a chance to see Fire in action or a chance to help with her impulsivity. If he brought up the subject of her losing her powers now, she’d get so angry he’d never be able to help her. They had a girl to find, a girl he feared—as Megan did—was already dead.
“I think I’ve got a lead on her cell phone,” he said. “The GPS shows it hasn’t moved since ten o’clock the night she disappeared.”
“You found it that quick? I thought the battery was dead. You shouldn’t be able to find it.” Megan sat next to him on the bed and stared at the screen.
From Johann’s perspective, the temperature in the room shot up a good ten degrees when her thigh pressed against his.
Damn all it anyway. What am I? Sixteen?
A few deep breaths and thoughts of the missing girls helped him gain control over his wayward body. “Rhiannon gives me some…let’s say magical ways to get information the authorities can’t access. I can find a dead cell phone. They can’t.”
“You mean Rhiannon doesn’t consider that helping? Seems like she makes up the rules as she goes along.”
“You’re just figuring that out now? Welcome to the program. All four of them make rules then change them when it suits their mood. I guess Rhiannon thinks of this as a nudge in the right direction rather than out-and-out help.”
“I wonder what she tells the Ancients. Freya said they hate it when the goddesses help us.”
“Who the hell knows?”
The satellite map on the system started out at a radius of two hundred miles and kept homing in on the signal. By the time it stopped, a large red X popped up on the map.
Megan pointed at the map. “Is that where the phone is? Aurora?”
“Sure is. Let’s go get it. Maybe it’ll lead us to Ashley.”
Chapter Four
Megan drove as they followed the GPS signal to an alley behind a small strip mall in Aurora. After she found a place to park, she followed Johann once his GPS closed in on an enormous rusty Dumpster in the back of a pet store.
“Ashley’s phone has got to be in there.” He pointed to the bin.
“Looks like a job for a Sentinel to me,” Megan said with a small bow and sweeping gesture of her arm.
He scowled, a look she’d learned was more bluster than actual anger. The Fire in her required true intimidation.
“Perhaps an Amazon would be better suited,” he grumbled.
“Nope. ’Fraid you’re wrong. This reeks of Sentinel. Speaking of reeks…” She sniffed. “It doesn’t smell too bad in there, but then again, I’m not much for Dumpster diving. Have fun. I’ll keep an eye out for revenants. Not that we’d ever smell them coming back here.”
“Gee, thanks,” he replied with a smirk. “Dumpster diving isn’t high on my list of fun activities, either. Or do I look like a hobo?” He boosted himself up and swung a leg over the side of the bin.
“Not a hobo. Nope. But a beach bum? That you have down pat.”
Johann toppled the rest of the way into the Dumpster with a thud and a curse.
Megan bit her lip to keep from laughing and tried to peer over the edge, but the damn thing was too tall. “You find anything in there?”
A couple of empty dog food bags went flying through the air.
“This thing’s a mess.” His voice echoed in the metal bin.
“Could be worse. Could be a restaurant.”
“Like food would be worse than dog shit. Hang on. I might have… I think there’s a purse under… Hang on.”
“Way to go, Joeman!” A few excited sparks flew from her hair.
She glanced around to make sure no one had seen her.
It was time to go back to Avalon—after this adventure was over. Perhaps Artair could scare some discipline back into her. He’d have her climbing walls, running ext
ra miles, sparring with Rebecca and living in the cabin with the thatched roof so she’d stop starting small fires every time she had a bad dream. Sparks’s old cabin.
Fire and Fire.
God, she missed Sparks. At least she missed Sparks before she went psychotic.
If only Sparks had finished training Megan. She’d barely learned how to wield her powers when she and Rebecca were thrown into the mess with Helen. Megan did her job, thinking when the danger passed, Sparks would get back to helping her learn some control of her Fire abilities.
But after Helen killed Sparks, everyone at Avalon just went about living. Even the Sentinels acted as though Megan knew what she should do in a fight. They were correct—she could handle herself any battle.
Living as a Fire Amazon—keeping her powers at bay during down times—was a different story.
Damn, she missed Earth—her first sister. She missed Rebecca’s common sense and motherly attitude that had helped her step easily into the role of the Amazons’ Guardian—the person responsible for keeping track of the women. While Megan had a good relationship with Gina and Sarita, Rebecca would always be the person she trusted above all others.
She even missed Artair, although he had a habit of scaring the breath right out of her. He’d taught her how to survive, but he’d been distracted during Megan’s training, dealing with his growing love for Rebecca and the responsibility he’d felt for Helen’s betrayal. No one had given Megan all she needed to understand her new way of life, so she played it by ear. Now, the goddesses were criticizing her for doing the best she could with the limited instruction she’d received.
Maybe having Johann train her some more wasn’t a bad thing after all.
Damn, she wanted a cigarette. Worse, she had forgotten her nicotine gum.
I hate Chicago.
At least the nightmares had decreased since she’d first been sent here. Nonetheless, the bad dreams plagued her. She was back in that dank warehouse in New Jersey. Back in the hands of the demon who’d stripped her powers and tied her to a pole like some human sacrifice. Back in hell, waiting for Sparks to kill her.