“She did that one on her own,” Sophie said with a note of surprise. “I didn’t think she’d be strong enough.”
“How many more?” Michael asked as he watched her hands, steady and gentle. She wore no nail polish, simply kept her nails short and buffed. It was strange how appealing he found her hands to be. It wasn’t a usual part of female anatomy that he paid a lot of attention to. And the bluish mist…Was she aware of her ancient powers?
“Just one. I took a sonogram a few weeks ago,” Sophie said and picked up the forceps again, but before she needed them, the third puppy slid through the canal. “That’s it, Princess. You can relax now and we’ll wait for the afterbirth.”
The dog wagged her tail once and licked Michael’s hand. He sent another soothing stream of light to her and then picked up one of the towels Sophie had put down. “I’ll clean the pups,” he said as he picked up the first one and wiped the sticky film off it. “You go tell Mr. Smith he’s a proud grandfather or whatever.”
Sophie gave him a strange look as she got up. “You actually stuck with me on this.” She tilted her head as if studying him and then, quite unexpectedly, smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Michael answered, surprised a little at the tiny sparkle of orange he’d just seen in her peacefully blue-green aura. Orange sprang from the sacral chakra, the center for physical attraction.
Maybe, beneath that cool, calm surface of remoteness, interest lay?
He definitely planned to find out.
* * * *
An hour and a half later, Sophie got into her truck and headed home. Mr. Smith had been ecstatic that all three puppies were alive and nursing and that Princess had required only a few stitches. His very generous tip would allow her to add on another row of kennels at the clinic.
And Michael—well, she had been sure he would continue to flirt with her and expect her to be grateful for the attention. Good-looking, muscular men were very aware of the effect they had on women—she only had to think of Robert to remember how very effective he had been—but Michael had surprised her. After the puppies were born, he had cleaned them up, taken care of the afterbirth and made sure Princess was comfortable. Then he had asked Sophie questions about the clinic and her love of animals. He had even seemed genuinely interested.
She glanced at her wrist watch. It was nearly nine o’clock, but she wanted to stop by the clinic and check on an older dog they were boarding. It would only take a few minutes and then she could head home. As she exited off I-30 a brilliant flash filled the air. Lightning? There hadn’t been any thunderstorms forecast. And the night was clear, or at least as much as she could make out with all the city lights.
Traveling north and away from the heavy traffic of the Interstate, Sophie became aware of an odd, reddish glow that seemed to linger in the air. Her first thought was fire, or perhaps a crash at the DFW airport, but the brilliance seemed to be hovering high above her rather than along the ground.
Still pondering, she turned down a side street and parked the truck in front of a modest brick house that had been converted into the veterinarian clinic. It sat on a full acre of land with a fenced, grassy yard for shelter animals to walk in. Sophie took a moment to appreciate the relative peace and quiet in this older neighborhood. She let a large SUV drive past and then opened the truck door and stepped down.
The odd light was much brighter here and she thought she heard something as well. A whirring sound and something that sounded like a horse snorting, but Augustin, her Andalusian, was securely in his stall in the small stable. She looked up and then squinted.
An oblong bright-red object was descending from the sky, an eerie trail of luminous sparkles of yellow, orange and red blazing behind it. Could it be fuselage from a plane? The airport wasn’t far away. The thing seemed to be heading toward her though and now it was beginning to take on a dragon’ shape! Sophie almost laughed at herself. The picture of Saint George slaying the dragon must be lingering in her head. As a child, she had loved fanciful stories about them, but they didn’t exist except in myths and legends.
The smile slipped from her face, though, as the thing came swooping down, belching fire that scorched her neatly mowed grass. The stench of the smoke assailed her. Sophie jumped behind her truck. Was it going to land? My God. What was happening?
It slowed its descent and hovered in the air about forty feet over her head. Sophie blinked. OMG! OMG! It was a dragon. For a moment, the world reeled about her as she tried to make sense of what was happening. This was totally illogical, but she could see now that its scales were ruby-red and gold-tipped, almost as though the thing had been sprayed with lacquer. The beating of the leathery-wings slowed as the dragon twisted his neck, angling his head, staring at her with cobalt-blue eyes, as if to get a better look at her. Her. Dear Lord. Did she look like dinner? She wondered if she should just stand still and pray it would move on like most wild animals would do or if she should crawl under the truck. But the size of the dragon—its wing-span must be at least fifty feet and its length thirty—meant that it was a powerful animal. The claws looked strong enough to pick up the truck and toss it.
She tried not to panic. There must be some realistic explanation. Dragons did not exist. Why did she think one landed in front of her? Was she hallucinating? She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since lunch. The evening had been stressful. Maybe she should go inside and take a short nap—
Before she could decide what to do, though, the dragon snorted again, sending a flame to sear more of the earth, but somehow missing her truck. Then he flapped his great wings and rose to disappear into the night sky almost as fast a shooting star.
* * * *
Down the street, sitting in his dark SUV, Adam Baylor watched the scene unfold and smiled. It had been worth doing the stake-out at the Smith mansion earlier himself rather than trust his minions who had bungled the job with the spear. Of course, each of them had personally paid, screaming in pain and begging for his slow torture to end. Yes, that was at least satisfying—and quite just for their failure to meet his demands.
He had recognized the McCain warlock earlier and decided not to put a tail on him just yet. Morgan, the little whore he used, was part of a witch’s coven that McCain belonged to. He wouldn’t be hard to find. And Baylor owed him punishment. The man had interfered and saved the life of the little witch, Sara Kincaid, and cost Baylor an easy swipe at getting the spear.
McCain would die for that. Slowly.
But the woman shielding herself behind her truck was interesting. He had wondered when she left the mansion if she knew anything about the ancient relics that both he and the warlock were hunting. She wouldn’t have any reason to, since the panel on the side of her truck advertised her veterinary services, but Baylor believed in being thorough, so he had followed her. And a good thing he had.
Someone had released the red dragon.
He never would have thought those pious priestesses of Avalon would have risked it. So many centuries ago, when Baylor had compelled Vortigern into inviting the Saxons into Britain on the pretense of helping protect them from invading Picts and Scotts—and what wonderful, bloody, destructive wars that had caused!—the red dragon had risen to defend his land. But the Saxon brothers, Hengist and Horsa, had summoned the white dragon of the North and more chaos had ensued, much to his delight.
Baylor had learned a valuable lesson from that. Dragon temperament could not be trusted and barely controlled. He had carried a few scars for nearly a hundred years as proof—which made it all the more intriguing why Avalon would choose to release the beast.
The dragon’s element was fire, which confirmed his suspicion that the next relic to be found would be the Sword of Fire, Excalibur. Baylor had managed to confiscate a copy of the original manuscript by killing the old professor who had interpreted it. He’d made a calculated guess at the order the relics would be revealed: Spear, Sword, Platter and Chalice, for they correlated to transient yearly Celtic fes
tivals beginning with Beltane. Unfortunately, the manuscript had only given clues to find the spear.
For the dragon to have singled this woman out, she had to be important. Baylor would infiltrate her office and keep tabs on her. Of course, he would still rape her raw when this was finished, but he just might let her live, depending on how well she serviced him.
But right now, he had work to do to put everything in place. Baylor heard sirens approaching. Some concerned citizen probably had called in to report the sighting. He eased the car into gear and turned the corner just as the first squad car approached.
Awakening the white dragon was next on his list.
Chapter Two
Michael was almost home when a brilliant red flame shot through the night sky. Meteor? It seemed too close for that but if it were, then it would be crashing into the ground soon. He turned on the police scanner he carried. PD would be receiving all sorts of calls.
The wait wasn’t long. Seconds later a dispatcher came on. “Man reports seeing a dragon hovering in the sky.”
He could almost hear the officer’s laugh. “Dragon?”
“That’s what he said.” She gave the location. “A red one. Said it was breathing fire too.”
“Right,” the officer replied. “Dopers must have gotten a really good batch of high-quality coke in recently.”
“Actually…” The dispatcher hesitated, her voice rising just a little over the regular monotone. “We’ve received three more calls.”
“I’ll check it out. Hope the place isn’t crawling with Media,” the officer responded.
“Affirmative. Maybe it’s an advertising gimmick,” she answered.
“Why’s that?”
“The location is a clinic and no-kill shelter for animals,” Dispatch answered. “Cameron’s Veterinarian Care.”
Michael slammed on the brakes, made a sharp U-turn and headed for I-30. This wasn’t a prank. More importantly, it was a red dragon. There was only one red dragon still in existence and it had been slumbering safely on Avalon.
For some reason, the goddess decided to release him. Michael guessed he should not have been surprised. He was searching for the Sword of Fire and the dragon had a vested interest in the sword too. But why had the beast singled out Sophie? Michael’s warlock senses tingled. Was Sophie the “mystery woman” Nimue had alluded to? Somehow, she was going to be instrumental in finding the sword. How, he didn’t know, but right now, she needed protection.
The Pendragon was back—and he had little use for humans.
* * * *
Sophie had not even reached the door of her clinic when a police cruiser and TV crews arrived, the reporters tagging as close to the officer as they could get.
He examined the scorch marks on the grass. “What happened here?” he asked.
Sophie took a deep breath and hoped they wouldn’t cart her off to a mental ward. “I think…a dragon breathed fire on it. At least, it looked like a dragon.”
The officer raised a skeptical brow while the reporters behind him babbled excitedly.
“Have you been drinking?”
“No.”
“Snorted some coke, lady?”
Sophie frowned. “No. No alcohol. No drugs. I’m a veterinarian.” She pointed to the sign in the front yard. “I stopped by to check on a dog we’re boarding. The… the dragon—or whatever it was—hovered over the roof when I stepped out. I can’t explain it.”
A barrage of questions came from the reporters and she wanted to put her hands over her ears to shut them all out. “I don’t know the answers to your questions! All I know is what looked like a red dragon was in the air. Maybe it was a hologram. Maybe some technology genius created it.” She turned to one reporter who had whispered something to her camera man. “And no, I am not crazy!”
“Those scorch marks are real,” a thin, young man said and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m Toby Clark, ma’am.”
Sophie tried to smile back. He seemed nice and not as aggressive as the other reporters. Before she could answer though, several of her neighbors from down the road joined the group.
“We saw the thing too,” one of them said. “I was about to get my shotgun when it just vanished.”
His wife slanted a look at him. “Like buckshot would take down whatever that was.”
“Well, an assault rifle would,” a second man said. The officer looked at him and he stopped talking.
“So what kind of a monster was it?” another woman asked Sophie. “You bring in some strange critters, but I never saw anything like that.” She looked at the reporters. “You should hear the sounds that come from here sometimes. It’s not puppies and kittens she keeps here!”
The reporters turned back to her again in a feeding frenzy. “How did you make it fly?” one asked.
“Was it a trick? Do you want publicity?” A young woman stuck a microphone in front of her face. “Maybe donations to your shelter?”
“No, I—“
“I think that’s enough questions for now.”
Sophie spun around and almost groaned. Michael McCain was elbowing his way through the growing crowd. Bad enough that her nosy neighbor tried to seek fifteen seconds of fame by exaggerating her menagerie of assorted animals, and the police officer probably thought her nuts, but now Michael was here. And Michael definitely made her feel confused. She didn’t like the feeling one bit. She was always in control of her emotions. It was easier that way.
“Who are you?” the officer asked, his pen poised above the small notepad he carried.
“Michael McCain.” He offered his driver’s license.
The cop looked at it and handed it back. “Why are you here?”
Michael moved closer to Sophie and put his arm around her shoulder. “I heard the report about Cameron Veterinary Clinic on the scanner. Sophie’s my girl.”
She made a choking sound. His girl??? Where did that come from? She started to move away from him, but his fingers tightened their hold gently. She tugged, but his hand was firm as a steel band. Who did he think he was? Some knight in shining armor coming to her rescue? She could hold her own. Sophie started to elbow him, but, as if he anticipated the move, he simply pulled her closer to him, trapping her arm against the side of his hard chest. And damn, if her traitorous body did not respond to that closeness. Heat radiated straight to her belly and her knees felt weak. And almost as though he knew the effect he was having, he grinned at her. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t about to fall for his male magnetism, but the officer was watching her.
Plastering a smile on her own face, she nodded. “I really do have to check on my animals.”
“Of course,” the officer said and closed his notepad, slipping it into his shirt pocket. He glanced up at the now empty sky. “Let’s break it up folks. That’s all for tonight.”
Michael kept her tucked up against him until the small crowd dissipated. When the last one had gone, he released her and she spun on him.
“Just what was that all about? The last thing I want to do is deal with an arrogant, sexy man who thinks he’s God’s gift to women!”
His mouth quirked up. “You think I’m sexy? That’s a good start.”
She glared at him, hands on her hips. “No! You think you are. Men like you flatter and flirt until you get what you want and then the woman is left picking up the pieces and putting her life back together.”
His expression sobered. “You’ve been hurt.”
“Never mind that. What are you doing here anyway? I’m about to have a nervous breakdown and I need time to think about what really happened tonight.”
Michael started to reach for her and then let his arm drop. “There is no need for you to have a nervous breakdown,” he said. “What you saw was real and I know who—or what—the dragon is. Let’s go inside and talk.”
* * * *
Michael spent the time waiting while Sophie checked on the animals pondering just how much he should tell her. Or, more precisely, how much
she could take.
She looked exhausted when she finally came back to the waiting room. Her face was pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. Michael wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and soothe her with his magic, but his warlock sense told him she would only interpret that as a sexual advance. And, as voluptuous as her body was, she had suppressed any inclination to flirt. Someone had hurt her really badly.
Maybe in time, he could find out who the jerk was. But, if they were going to work together, she had to trust him. He sighed. That meant putting all his lustful thoughts of her soft, naked body aside. At least, for now.
Sophie sank into one of the leather armchairs placed about the room. “I really saw a dragon?”
“You really saw a dragon.”
Sophie closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Michael’s fingers itched to touch her. He could relieve the tension easily enough—a simple mind-spell would do it, but even as he thought it, she opened her eyes.
“How is it possible?” she asked in a shaky voice. “Dinosaurs, which people probably mistook for dragons, became extinct long ago.”
“Two entirely different species,” Michael answered. “Dragons are magical creatures.”
She stared at him. “Magical? Like unicorns? Don’t tell me they exist too!”
They did, but Michael saw no reason to bring that up right now. Sophie already looked a little wild-eyed. He probed her aura gently, but she had astral shields in place. Pushing at those would cause her more distress.
“Thousands of years ago, dragons roamed quite freely on Earth. When humans came, the dragons tried to help, but the mortals were afraid of the sacred fire they breathed. Instead of trying to understand the dragons, the humans hunted them. The dragons withdrew into the mists.” Michael paused, giving her time to absorb what he knew probably sounded like science-fiction. “The reason people think dragons don’t exist is because, over the passage of time, people have stopped thinking of them.” He paused again and tried to mind-link, but her defense shields were firmly in place. Should he continue? “The same thing happened with the old Greek and Roman gods. The new religion replaced them, just like it did the goddess of Avalon.” Michael stopped when Sophie held up her hand.
The Immortals II: Michael Page 2