She moved cautiously through the more densely shaded area of the grove toward an area where sunlight filtered through the leaves. The usual array of bird-song, frog-croaking and insect noise suddenly stopped. Behind her, she heard the sudden splashing of gators slipping into the marshy streams. Not taking time to look behind her, she ploughed ahead.
The trees gave way to a grassy meadow of sorts, but as she burst through, all hell was about to break loose.
Pendragon hovered a few feet above the ground, wings flapping furiously, unable to actually fly. Michael stood close to him and only a few feet from both of them, a panther and his mate crouched low, snarling. Smoke began to spew from the dragon’s nostrils as he tried to hurl fire, but no flames came.
The panthers separated, slinking low on their bellies as they began to circle their victims. Michael’s form began to vibrate and, as Sophie watched, he morphed into a panther himself. A sleek cat with a blue-black coat. Snarling, he stalked toward the male.
Sophie blinked. What in God’s name was happening? Was Michael using an illusion? She couldn’t tell.
A flare of fire shot past her singing the female cat’s paws. She growled but slunk back to lick her paws. Pendragon crashed on the ground, exhausted from his effort. Sophie looked back toward Michael as the panther leaped to attack. The two of them went down, claws digging, fangs trying to bite deep into each other’s necks. The panther rolled on top of Michael, leaving his belly exposed. Its mighty jaws opened—
“No!” Sophie screamed, extending her hands. A sharp pain pierced her as the surge of energy pulsed through her and made the world spin. She sank to the ground, nearly blinded by the light that shot from her fingers. The male panther flew back, bouncing against a tree. Michael lay still on the ground, but Sophie had no strength left to go to him as she slowly collapsed beside Pendragon.
* * * *
Sophie slowly opened her eyes to the dim interior of a small room that smelled of fresh linens and a hint of eucalyptus. The bed she was lying in was super-soft, filled with feathers, she guessed.
“You’re awake! How do you feel?” Michael rose from the chair he’d been sitting in and came over to the bed.
“A little groggy. Where am I?”
“At a settlement behind the Miccosukee Indian Village. One of their tribal members found us.”
Sophie tried to sit up and fell back against the pillow. “I’m so weak.”
“Let me help,” Michael said and leaned forward, putting his arms around her and propping her against the headboard. “I’m not surprised. That was quite a bit of magic you used.”
“I don’t remem—oh!” It all came flooding back to her. “Those panthers! One of them was attacking you, only you—“ Her voice trailed off and she rubbed her temples. “I think maybe I have a concussion.”
“The doctor here checked you out. He didn’t see any signs of a concussion. And,” Michael motioned to the modest nightgown she wore, “the nurse changed your clothes.”
Sophie looked down as if seeing the gown for the first time and shook her head slightly. “But I thought you turned into a panther, too. That’s impossible. I must have hit my head.”
“No, you didn’t.” Michael took her hands and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. “What you saw was a very strong illusion of a black panther. Remember how Caldwell thought he saw a flaming sword in my hand?”
Sophie nodded. “But you looked so real.”
Michael looked intently at her and then took a deep breath. “My magic is very old and very strong. I have the ability to create a form from the energy around me. It isn’t sustainable for very long, but while it lasts, the other person will believe the illusion to be solid.”
“Then you weren’t hurt?”
“I was, but I heal pretty quickly.” He unbuttoned his shirt to show her a faint pink scar across his right shoulder that looked weeks old, although it had been only hours ago. “See?”
“What about Pendragon? He wasn’t moving—“
“He’s fine. Or, at least as fine as he can be since the clansmen decided it might be safer to keep him in his cage. I don’t think they exactly believe that he’s a rare form of a Gila Monster.” Michael grinned. “I guess I’ll owe him another gallon of ice cream.”
“Did he find Sigurd? I only saw the panthers.”
Michael shook his head. “Sigurd must have flown over, but not landed. His scent is probably what provoked the panthers.”
“The cypress grove grew totally silent just before I got to the clearing,” Sophie said. “I thought I’d heard a whirring noise, but I didn’t see anything.”
“Sigurd is playing with us,” Michael said, his face growing serious. “I called Smith. He’s going to send a helicopter to pick us up tomorrow and take us to the next destination. Maybe the dragon will lose our scent that way.”
“Good idea,” Sophie replied, “and what is our next destination?”
“New Orleans. There have been so many battles fought there in various wars that I’m thinking a member of the Priory would be drawn to it. Maybe we should have started there in the first place.”
“Even if we don’t find the sword, I’d like to see what impact the oil spill has had on the bayou habitat,” Sophie said.
“Ever the veterinarian, aren’t you?” Michael teased. “Maybe I should have kept the panther form so you’d try to heal me?”
The image of the powerful panther flitted through her mind. How soft and silky would that beautiful black fur feel over the hard, lithe muscles of the animal? Or, more specifically, how would the smooth skin Michael’s own muscular form feel? His chest was still bared where he had pulled back his shirt to show her the fading scar, exposing finely chiseled pecs and sculpted biceps. She reached out to place her hand lightly on the almost invisible scar.
“Maybe I’m the one that needs healing,” she said.
Michael stilled, his eyes growing darker. He didn’t move as she trailed her fingertips along the contours of his broad chest. She hesitated for a moment, gathering her courage, and then she slid his shirt off his other shoulder.
Michael raised a brow. “Where are you going with this?”
Sophie felt her face heat, but she managed to hold his gaze. “I want to find out what you are.” She placed her hands against his flat, brown nipples, feeling the sensation of the hard nubs in the center of her palms, compared to the smoothness of his skin. Spreading her fingers, she let her hands wander down, exploring the ridges of his tight belly, then resting her hand on the belt of his jeans.
His eyes began to smolder and a corner of his full, sensual mouth quirked up as he slipped his shirt off and then laid his hand over hers. “Allow me.”
Sophie shook her head. “I want to do this.” She felt her hand quiver as she looked down to unzip his pants. ‘I need to be in control of this so that I will never accuse you of coercing me…or spelling me.”
His hand stayed hers once more and he took her chin with his other, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. “You can gladly have your way with me, my sweet Sophie, but know—know—that I will never, ever spell you. In anything. Do you believe me?”
She searched his face. Unlike Robert, who wouldn’t look her in the eye when he was fabricating some half-truth, Michael looked back at her calmly, waiting for her answer. “I—I believe you.”
“Good.” He gave her a slow, sultry grin as he kicked off his boots. Scooting her over, he lay down beside her and put his hands behind his head. “Do what you will.”
She ran her hand over his groin, feeling the hardness of his manhood beneath the denim of his jeans. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready for that, just yet. She felt a little silly since she’d never seduced a man before. What did they like? Hesitantly, she stretched alongside him, lying half-way across his chest. Tentatively, she nibbled his ear, placing small butterfly kisses along his neck and heard him make a small growl, but he didn’t move. Emboldened, she kissed his lips. They were incredible warm and soft
. She kissed him again and he returned the kiss in kind, letting her set the pace.
It was intoxicating, kissing in this slow, leisurely way. Sophie crawled closer,
Her breasts pressed against him as she tugged on his lower lip. He caught hers, sucking on it gently, then giving her another lazy kiss, but not touching her in any other way.
Suddenly, she wanted to taste him, feel his tongue inside her mouth. She touched the tip of her tongue to his lips. He licked hers slowly, sensually, in return, his hands till behind his head. With a small mewl, she parted her lips, drawing him inside. His body stiffened momentarily and then he was exploring her mouth, his tongue playing with hers, alternating with deep, soulful kisses.
Her breasts swelled and the cotton material of her gown chafed at her pebbled nipples. She wanted to feel them against his skin. With a small cry she suddenly sat up, slipping the gown over her head and then pressed down on him, rubbing against him in delicious friction. Michael growled again, moving in harmonious discord with her, helping her feel the sensation of naked flesh on naked flesh.
Sophie slipped down the length of him, her breasts grazing his washboard belly. Her hand found his zipper and undid his pants. Michael lifted his hips, allowing her to slide them off. His manhood immediately sprang free, erect as a trained soldier. He was cleanly shaven there, and the sight of his big, thick shaft and heavy sac made her think of the statue of some Roman god. For a moment, she merely gazed at it, wondering if all that would actually fit into her. It had been so long…
Sophie reached out a tentative hand to touch him and watched in fascination as his erection jerked and grew even bigger. She began to stroke him. Lord, he felt like satin-covered steel. She gave him a shy glance and heat washed over her at the hungry look of desire in his dark eyes. Wantoness overcame her and she knelt down to run her tongue around his sensitive crown. Muscles in his belly clenched and he groaned. Wickedly, she licked off the small drop that had formed on his tip.
“By the Goddess, Sophie! I can’t take much more of this,” Michael grunted, his hands now clenched in fists over his head. “Ask me to take you.”
She gave him another lick. “I am asking—“
He didn’t let her finish. Sophie found herself suddenly on her back, Michael draped partly across her as he lavished attention on her breasts, kneading one as he took the other in his mouth, laving the nipple, suckling softly, then drawing deep before turning his attention to the other. Sophie arched her back and he pressed her breasts together, his tongue moving from one tip to the other, making her moan with desire. One hand slid down, caressing her body, finding its way between her slick, wet folds to tease her pulsating little bud, moving away just before she came, then returning to torture her some more. She writhed under his skillful fingers, pushing against him, wanting more.
Michael spread her legs and mounted her, pressing the smooth, round tip of his cock against her core. “Ask me once more to do this, Sophie.”
God, she could hardly think straight, let alone talk. “I want you inside me,” she gasped. “Now. Please, Michael. Take me.”
Michael slid into her slowly, giving her time to accommodate his size, filling her completely. He began to thrust, slowly at first, withdrawing almost completely, making her wrap her legs around his thighs to keep him anchored. He chuckled and teased her some more, alternating between easy thrusts and long, hard, deep ones. She thrashed under him, her body weeping, the juice flowing freely.
He leaned down, taking her mouth with his, thrusting his tongue inside, mimicking the motions his shaft was making. Pinned to the bed by his body, all Sophie could do was enjoy the feel of his penis driving hard into her now. Her every nerve fiber was attuned to him, humming like a finely-tuned harp. The crescendo was building…her body began to shudder as her thighs clenched and her toes curled. With one final deep thrust, she shattered and felt his hot seed spurt into her.
They lay panting, silent, their sweat-soaked bodies slippery against each other. Michael began to withdraw, but Sophie held him tight.
“I like feeling you inside of me,” she whispered, “but let’s leave this sword in its sheath a little while longer.”
Michael grinned and began to kiss her again and there was nothing slow or easy about it.
Chapter Seventeen
The helicopter set down on the roof pad of a luxury hotel not far from the Vieux Carré. The valet that met them to show them to their suite didn’t even look askance at the large animal carrier that the pilot unloaded. Thankfully, Pendragon had decided to cooperate and remained quiet. Probably due to that second gallon of ice cream Michael had bought him.
“This certainly beats the places we’ve been staying,” Sophie said after the valet left. She picked up a polished apple from the fruit bowl on the ornate dining table and bit into it. “I hope this isn’t another five dollars added to our tab.”
“It probably is,” Michael said as he helped himself to one too, “but Smith made the arrangements. I say we enjoy it.” He put one arm around Sophie’s waist and drew her close, nuzzling her neck. “We can check out the bedroom too.”
Last night had surpassed even his wildest expectations and he’d had centuries of wild expectations fulfilled. Making love to Sophie had been surreal, something more than just a physical joining of their bodies, although he certainly had no room to complain about that aspect—Sophie had been as spontaneous, passionate, and adventurous as any woman he’d ever had. But there was something more. Every time they climaxed he’d been inside her head too. Not just reading her thoughts. Her thoughts were his and his were hers as though they were one identity. Two parts made whole.
He had found his soul’s mate and he’d never believed that such a person existed.
“Did I mention that I love you?” he murmured as he trailed kisses down her neck.
Sophie tilted her head to give him more exposure. “I don’t think more than twenty times or so.” She sighed contentedly. “I don’t think I ever knew what real love felt like.”
“Excuse me,” Pendragon said with a thump of his tail. “It’s not polite to make me watch.”
Michael gave the dragon an irritated look as Sophie reluctantly pulled away, but she just grinned at him. “We’ve got most of the day to search. Where do we go first?”
“The most logical place would be the Veteran’s Memorial Hall on Camp Street,” Michael said. “It boasts the second largest collection of Confederate military artifacts in the country. There is also the World War II museum on Magazine. We could go to Fort Pike close to Chalmette. The Union forces broke through the Confederate defenses there.” Michael pulled her close again. “I have a feeling that the sword is here. We’ll find it.” He nuzzled her neck again, his hands caressing her back.
Excuse me,” Pendragon said again and stalked over to the bar with its small refrigerator. “Do you think they have—“
“No, hotels don’t usually keep ice cream in bar refrigerators,” Michael replied between kisses, “but I’m sure Room Service can bring some up.”
“Well, make them do it then. Chocolate for sure.”
With a sigh, Michael released Sophie and reached for the phone. “Tonight, dragon, you sleep in the living room and leave us alone.”
“Hmmph,” Pendragon said.
* * * *
“I’m still not quite sure what we are doing at a Voodoo museum,” Sophie said two days later as walked down Bourbon toward Dumaine.
“Well, the historical museums didn’t pan out. Neither did the fort. I guess I was wrong to think someone from the Priory would take the chance to put the sword in full sight. It has to be hidden. And New Orleans is full of all sorts of secret places. What better place to begin than where Voodoo magic still lingers? Maybe I’ll pick up a vibe.” He opened the door for her and grinned. “I am a warlock, remember?”
Like she needed reminding. Sex the past two nights had been beyond her wildest fantasy. With a capital “F”. Now that she had let her shields down, Mic
hael had shown her how to tap into his emotions, the result being that she not only experienced body-shattering orgasms herself, she lived them from his perspective as well. It was mind-blowing to have a double and simultaneous climax.
“Are you going to tell me next that Marie Laveau’s spirit is going to connect with you?”
Michael gave her an odd glance. “You’re not using as much sarcasm as you usually do about the supernatural.”
‘Well, gosh. I saw a ghost in Charleston and we have two dragons loose that are hundreds of years old, and a demon chasing us. To say nothing of the fact that my man can make himself look like a really sexy panther.” She shrugged. “I’m still wanting there to be some sort of logical explanation, but either all of these things are real or I’m totally delusional. I’d prefer to think I’m still sane.”
“You’re sane. Maybe a little crazy in bed, but I’m not complaining.” He gestured. ”Let’s see what’s here.”
“So did this Voodoo queen put curses on everybody?” Sophie asked as they began to walk around.
“Don’t know. She sold gris-gris. They could be used for good or evil, just like the sword. She was practically a legend in her own time.”
“Like King Arthur?”
Michael shook his head. “I don’t think King Arthur would have thought of himself as a legend. He was simply trying to keep Britain from being overrun by Saxons.”
“Still, he must have had some kind of charisma for legends to spring up and endure through all this time. Or maybe it was Merlin’s magic, huh?”
Michael gave her another odd look. “You’re still skeptical?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Well, if there is one city in this whole country that holds magic, it’s New Orleans. Her history, from the Spaniards to French aristocrats to the slaves brought in from many countries—no one forgot their cultures. This was the only place in the South that accepted children of mixed blood. Quadroon Balls were as popular and elegant as anything on the Continent. Marie Laveau was of color and she didn’t become a Voodoo queen without the patronage of the white aristocracy. Here Jean Lafitte—a pirate by all government accounts—could not only walk freely on the streets, but also commanded more respect that the governor did. New Orleans protected her own and honored her dead. She holds her secrets close. Can you feel the magic?”
The Immortals II: Michael Page 18