by Sandy James
When he fell in love with her.
Unable to go slow, he put his hands on her hips and tugged her to sit on the edge of the spring. Then her coaxed her legs further apart. He teased his way up her thigh and eased a finger inside her, his eyes met hers, begging her to let him take her. The need to be imbedded in her heat was drowning him. “Now, baby?”
Megan pushed her arms around his neck. Then she nodded.
A delicious wave of emotion rolled through him when he surged into her. Her body was paradise—so tight and hot. She squeezed him inside her. There was no holding back, not even a small part of himself.
Johann pulled back then thrust deeper as she arched her back to meet him. The ancient rhythm took over as her legs locked around his hips again. Moans fell from her lips, making what small morsel was left of his control shatter. The pace quickened until she threw her head back and shouted. He followed her surrender with his own, burying his face against her neck as his orgasm raced through him.
He had no idea how long it took for him to come back to his senses. When Megan shivered, he realized how cool the air had become on their wet skin with the sunset. Since his legs were still submerged in the hot water, he wasn’t cold, but the breeze was raising goose flesh on her arms. He gently broke their connection and picked her up.
Turning to sit on the stone seat in the hot spring, they submerged to their chests. She straddled his lap.
“Warmer?” He brushed a quick kiss over her mouth as he toyed with her breast.
She nodded before she sighed. “Now what?”
“Excuse me?”
“What happens now?”
His sigh echoed hers, and he dropped his hand back to her waist. “For now, we go back to Chicago. I’ve got a job to do.”
I’m gonna kill Maksim Popov.
With Megan at his side, he would find the strength to kill Max. Then he’d hunt down whatever magical being set the bastard loose.
Once things returned to normal, he would have a chance to convince Megan that they belonged together. Permanently. And he would convince her. Now that he had her in his arms, he wasn’t about to let her go. Freya be damned. Rhiannon be damned. All the Ancients be damned. She was his.
* * *
Megan had to choke down the need to scream at him. Was he so obtuse he couldn’t see what she was really asking? She wanted him to reassure her that they had a future together because she couldn’t imagine life without him. Johann wasn’t talking beyond the next week or this mission. He didn’t understand how she felt.
Why couldn’t she spit out what needed to be said to force him to understand?
“Why did you think you had to be Rebecca to talk to me?” he asked softly before kissing her temple.
She laid her cheek on his shoulder.
Because I’m a coward.
Her answer was a shrug.
“What’s the matter?” He put a finger under her chin and lifted until she was looking into his eyes.
“Nothing.” She hated the pout in her voice.
“We’ll be done in Chicago soon. Once we know for sure what happened to the girls and deal with Max, we can ask to be reassigned. Now that Rebecca is back in fighting form, she’ll take the East Coast. We’ll probably still be somewhere in the Midwest, but I know how you feel about Chicago—especially when it snows.”
She’d heard him wrong. “We?”
“Well, yeah. What did you think?”
Megan tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth.
“I’m not leaving you, Megan.”
She wanted to believe him.
“I mean it. I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
“You’re not?” Damn, she sounded pathetic, but she couldn’t harness her fear. She’d been abandoned before. By Aunt Tasha. By Sparks. By her mother.
He kissed her—long and loving and full of promise. “No, I’m not. Didn’t you hear what I said at Folkvang?”
“You said a lot of things at Folkvang. You said you wouldn’t accept me. You said everything had changed. You said to send you back.”
“I was pissed. I mean—I’d just found out you were Freya’s daughter—and not at the most opportune moment. I didn’t have time to think about all that it meant, and I felt…used. Sure, everything changed. But for the better. Please forgive me.”
“But you said—”
He gave her a quick kiss that stopped her words. “How about ‘I love you’? Did you happen to hear that, too?”
Hell, yes, she’d heard that. She simply hadn’t believed it.
Rebecca had been right, and Megan had never been so happy in her whole life. “You love me?”
Johann put his hands on her cheeks and made her look him in the eye. Then he nodded.
She burst into tears.
“Megan? What’s wrong?”
When she kept crying and shook her head, he growled at her.
Megan pulled herself together, sniffled and wiped away a few tears.
“Tell me what’s wrong, baby.”
“The goddesses will pull us apart.”
“Not if I can help it.”
It sounded so much like a vow, she tried to believe him.
Chapter Eighteen
Megan hadn’t expected to find herself back in Chicago so soon. Johann had made it clear he wanted to work with her some more in Avalon, probably to give her a chance to accept the upheaval Freya had thrown into her life.
Then Maksim Popov announced that tonight would be his last concert. If he dropped out of the public eye, they might lose their chance to figure out who was giving Max his magical backing. There was no way in hell she’d let him escape unpunished, not after the horrible way he’d murdered those girls. Her skin crawled whenever she thought about that kiss, the helpless feeling as he tried to suck the life out of her, just as he had Ashley and the other girls. No, he was going to pay—with his own life.
Despite the reticence of her Sentinels, Megan wanted to put her new shape-shifting abilities to use. Since they couldn’t come up with a better plan on infiltrating the Paramount, she won the argument. Her job was to slip in, gather as much information as possible on what Max had been up to and then get out. Johann came with her, but he’d keep his distance since Max would surely recognize him.
Freya popped them into an abandoned alley several blocks away from the theater. Not that Megan had seen her mother. They’d simply called out for her assistance, and she’d responded. They’d eventually have to talk things out, but Megan wasn’t ready. Not yet.
Johann stuck a microphone on Megan’s collar so he could listen in to anything that she said or heard. “Remember, all you have to do is call, and I’ll be there. No using your powers. Just get in and get out.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she replied. “We went over this a million times. I’ll be good.”
He surprised the hell out of her when he grabbed her and gave her a hard kiss—one far too passionate considering where they were and what she was about to do. “Stay safe,” he said when he turned her loose.
Closing her eyes, she pictured a model she’d seen in the last issue of Cosmopolitan. If she showed up at the door, gorgeous and voluptuous, no doubt the guy guarding the entrance would let her in. Every time she’d seen Max, he’d had a woman—or two—like that on his arm. It took all her concentration, but she was able to force herself to “become” that model.
“That’s creepy,” he said. “Watching you change… Not sure I’ll be able to get used to it.”
Not knowing what to say, Megan gave Johann a brusque nod and marched toward the Paramount.
Getting in was easier than she’d imagined. She didn’t have to open her mouth. The man waved her in and slung a lanyard with an access pass around her neck. Not questioning her luck, she moved throug
h the throng of workers backstage and made her way to Max’s dressing room.
Since the concert was scheduled to begin in an hour, she hoped she could pick up some of his conversations with Sergei or his roadies. She needed to know where he was going from here, because she wasn’t letting him slip away and begin another murderous spree in a different city. And if she was really lucky, she’d find out which Ancient was giving him help.
The door to his dressing room was shut, but the voices were raised. Max’s thick Russian accent was immediately recognizable. The other voice, authoritative and angry, was new. She needed to get closer—to see who was shouting at Max.
Then she remembered the attached bathroom. She hurried back to the hallway, found the second dressing room’s door open and ducked inside. A few excited sparks flew from her fingertips, so she made herself stop and breathe deeply, just like Johann had taught her.
I can do this.
She went into the bathroom and smiled when she saw that the other door was ajar.
This was her chance.
Settling in, she watched Max’s dressing room. She could see Max, who was sitting in the chair at his makeup table. But she would have to be patient to see who owned the other male voice.
“She finally came to you?” The angry, deep voice resonated through the room.
“Da,” Max replied with a nod.
Loud clicks across the tile floor put the other being right in Megan’s vision. She had to swallow hard to suppress a gasp. She’d been right all along—Max had the backing of an Ancient.
Chernabog, you bastard.
The god was imposing. Tall and powerfully muscled. Two horns protruding from his head. His back bore a set of bat-like wings. His feet were hooves. Had the god’s leathery hide been red instead of black, Chernabog would be the perfect prototype of Satan.
He’d been exiled, forbidden to interact with humans. To escape that exile, he would have needed the power of another Ancient, one who could have hidden his escape. Now, she needed to figure out who else was involved in this mess.
Two for the price of one. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“The Amazon came to me,” Max said. “Just as you predicted. The girls were the correct bait to lure her out. Or perhaps we finally chose the right one.”
They’re talking about me.
Fuck.
Chernabog stretched out his enormous black wings. “Then they fulfilled your need as well as mine. I did wonder why you needed four. Would one not suffice?”
“What does it matter?” Max replied. “One or one thousand. It is all the same to me. You have reduced me to nothing but a vampire.”
The god gave his wings a flap and chuckled, the sound flat. “Ah, so you feel demeaned—reduced to the level of those filthy demons of the night. You must now depend on me for your very survival. You must bow to one stronger than yourself.”
“I bow to no one.”
A low, rumbling growl rose from Chernabog. He thumped his chest with his clawlike hand. “You bow to me. I believe a lesson in humility is long overdue, Maksim. Do not incite my anger again.”
Max bowed his head. “Yes, master.” He ground out the words through a clenched jaw.
“Better, but do not make the same mistake again. Know your place. Aye, a lesson in humility is what you need—just as a lesson in humility is long overdue for those four Ancients—those four bitches—who destroyed all I tried to create.”
“As you wish,” Max said, his words dripping with condescension.
“Taking four girls was unnecessary, and I see no need to act recklessly. Neither does my queen. You were greedy, Maxim.”
“It matters not. I will need no more girls. The Amazon will come to me again. I am inside her mind now.”
Chernabog snorted fire from his nostrils and flapped his wings twice before folding them back against his broad back. The god grinned, revealing sharp yellow fangs against black lips. “Time grows short. Your presence has become more prominent and more questions are being asked. Aye, I told you true, and Fire has come to you because of me. Thanks to your help, Freya will be the first to taste my revenge.”
Not only did Chernabog know who Megan was, so did Max. And she was their target—their chance to bring down the patron goddesses.
She wanted to run to Johann and have him protect her.
No. No running.
Fire. I am Fire. I can do this.
“Remember,” Max said, “you have promised Megan to me.”
“Do not dare to lecture me,” Chernabog replied. “I promised her to you when those Ancients who give power to the Amazons are no more. Fire could still be a casualty of war.”
“When shall we call the followers together?”
“Soon. Is your woman in place?”
“Da. She is ready.”
“I was re-creating the world, Maksim.” Chernabog paced as he kept on talking—whining, actually. “It was only a matter of time. I would have ruled the planet, would have ruled all of the humans.”
Max sighed and rubbed his fingertips over his forehead. “I have heard this all before. Many, many times. The Amazons stopped your plans. They destroyed your attempt to take over the Earth. The patron goddesses should be punished.”
Chernabog turned and fixed his angry red eyes on him. “Then you shall listen again! You know what I risk here, and you must not disappoint me. Freya, Rhiannon, Ix Chel and Ganga will die. ’Twas their Amazon force who foiled my plan. Those goddesses drove me from the Earth. You have little time left to create more followers, Maksim. Do not disappoint me. And do not disappoint my queen.”
“I sing her songs. I gather your followers. I will not disappoint you.” Max stood, grabbed his leather jacket and headed toward the door, Chernabog following close behind. The slamming of the door echoed behind them.
The faces of the four dead girls swam in Megan’s mind. Those innocents had nothing to do with this mess. They’d simply been a means to an ends for a psychopath and his magical patrons. Somehow that made their deaths more tragic.
A hand settled on her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
She whirled, ready to fight. Then she recognized the man’s face. “Sergei. You scared me.”
Thank God for Johann’s training. If he hadn’t taught her some self-control, Sergei would have found himself plastered against a wall. As it was, she’d had to curl her hands into tight fists and hold them at her sides not to telekinetically send the guy flying. His fault since he’d scared the shit out of her.
“You know me?”
“Of course,” she replied as she edged her away around him, trying to get out of the bathroom. “Max introduced us at the museum.” A bluff, but she held her poker face.
Keeping the form of another person took supreme concentration—something else Johann had taught her. The surprise of Sergei popping up behind her had almost made her shift back to herself. She needed to get out of there. Quickly.
She brushed past him, heading toward the door at a pace that she hoped didn’t scream her desire to escape his scrutiny. The din from the audience rose to a crescendo, giving her the perfect excuse to flee. “If you’ll excuse me—it sounds like Max just hit the stage. I want to go watch him.”
She hurried away. After blending in with the backstage groupies, she made her way to the exit. The change back to herself was already happening.
Once she made it outside, she ran.
* * *
Johann checked his watch again. The show would have started by now, which meant Megan had already heard everything she could possibly gather from listening in on Max and anyone who he talked to.
She should be back by now.
She’d suggested searching his dressing room, but Johann had nixed that idea. If she were caught, there would be no explanation for why sh
e was rifling through his stuff.
He promised himself five more minutes, then he was going after her. A glance to his watch and he changed his mind.
Four. Four minutes tops.
The sound of footsteps in the alley forced him to step back into the shadows.
“Joeman?”
“Over here, Megan.” He hurried to her, grateful to see she’d shifted back to herself. “So?”
“I was right.”
“About?”
“It is an Ancient. Chernabog was there—with Max.”
“Freya!” Johann called. “Can you please send us back to Avalon?”
He’d no sooner called when they were surrounded by light. A moment later, they were standing in the courtyard of Avalon.
“Let’s go to Artair’s house,” he said. “You can tell us what you found.”
* * *
Rebecca settled Darian under the MacKay plaid she’d draped over her shoulder. The sound of the baby’s lips smacking and his contented coos could be heard as he nursed.
Megan watched Bonnie play with a small wooden sword as she sat on the ground next to the rocking chair. With the rounded tip, the sword looked more like a cricket bat than an Amazon’s weapon.
She had a hard time thinking of Bonnie as a potential Amazon. Not with those gorgeous blond curls and chubby cheeks, one of which was creased with the most adorable dimple. But she was destined to be the next Earth should new generations be called. At least the toddler was going to be ready to fight when the time came. Rebecca and Artair would see to it.
Thinking about Bonnie, Megan hated to acknowledge that for Bonnie to become an Amazon, Rebecca might have to die—although not every new generation waited in limbo until the one before perished. Some women who could become Amazons never knew their destinies, living normal lives, oblivious to what they might have been.
New Amazons were sometimes called for an evil the current Amazons couldn’t fight alone. But, as Megan had learned from Sparks’s history lessons, that didn’t happen very often. The most common way for a new Amazon to be brought into the fold was the death of the older warriors—often in some cataclysmic battle between good and evil. Bonnie might have to lose her mother to realize her destiny.