Fighting back rising panic, she tried to think. Her keys were in her purse. Her purse was in the cabin. The wolf was nearly outside, but she doubted she could get back inside before he spotted her. And she didn’t feel like standing on the front porch posing as his next meal.
Trees. Wolves didn’t climb trees. The mesquite were probably too low to offer protection, but there were scrub oaks not far. She started to run and then skidded to a stop not five feet from her car.
Another wolf stood near some sage. It was massive, easily the size of a wolfhound—Sara felt a bubble of hysteria rising at the irony of conjuring up a dog bred to hunt wolves—but much bulkier. Its thick, shiny fur was so pale a brown it seemed blond, and looked almost groomed. Another bubble of hysteria rose. What was she going to think of next? Petting him?
She forced a deep breath. At least, this one wasn’t growling at her. In fact, he was not menacing at all. His ears were pricked forward, his nose up, his golden eyes trained on something behind her.
The tiny hairs on her arms rose. She felt, rather than heard, the first wolf approaching, silently this time. Almost frantically, she tried to center herself. If she could stay calm and draw in energy, she might be able to create an astral shield. Animals could sense well on the astral plane. But she had to be in control of her own emotions to do it.
The wolf behind her snarled and Sara would never be too sure of what happened
next. The pale wolf brushed past her, knocking her to the ground as it attacked the first wolf. Sara rolled out of the way of snapping jaws and sharp fangs as the animals fought and then ran for the cabin.
When she reached the door she heard a whimper. She glanced around as she opened the door and nearly gaped. The wolf who had tried attacking her was limping away, its head drooped, its tail between its legs in defeat. The huge lobo stood in the middle of the yard watching her.
“You really are beautiful,” she said softly and then wondered if she gone totally insane to be talking to an animal that could kill her if she didn’t get inside.
The wolf’s amber eyes blinked once and then his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted slightly before he turned and trotted away as well.
To Sara, it looked like the lobo was grinning. She shook her head as she went inside and secured the door. Grinning wolves. She needed sleep. But not before she knew every window was closed.
* * * *
The lobo loped along the road, trying to pick up Balor’s scent. It lingered in the air and he followed it to where the rubber of car tires overcame it. The man was gone. At least for now.
Lucas felt the Shift begin, his muscles beginning to compact and become tighter, even as his torso lifted and his back legs reshaped into human thighs. The bones of his skull widened and the lupine nose shortened. He reached his bundle of clothes just as the transformation was complete.
Lucas pulled the polo shirt over his head and tucked it inside his jeans. His adrenaline was still pumping from the fight with the other wolf but he knew the crash would soon come. It always did and it left him vulnerable.
Silently, he made his way down the gravel road to where he had left his car parked. Smith had called Sara while Caldwell and he were in the study. When Caldwell started asking questions about where her cabin was, he’d become suspicious, even though the guy acted as if he were interested in doing some deer hunting on maybe a private lease. And Lucas hadn’t much liked the idea of her being so isolated either, not that he’d tell her. All that would get him would be an irritated glare and a lecture on how women could take care of themselves.
He reached the car and slid into the driver’s seat, checking under it to make sure his sgian dubh was still there. He had planned to take it with him to the cabin since he was fully expecting to find Caldwell there, compromising Sara. But what had happened tonight hinted of something much darker.
The wolf had been be-spelled. Lucas could smell the taint of evil even as he approached Sara’s dwelling. For a fleeting second, he had considered that Caldwell might have been a shape shifter, but the animal only gave off its own scent and the stench that Lucas recognized as Balor’s doing.
And if the animal had been be-spelled, Lucas would not kill it. It had been easy enough to instill in its mind that he was the alpha-male of the pack and the wolf had limped away. It would wake in the morning with no permanent harm done.
But Balor was another matter. If his grandfather were this close, it meant he knew about the manuscript. He thought back to the auction and the careening car and the pickpocket. He hadn’t seen Caldwell there and Balor would have kept himself hidden, but all of Lucas’ senses told him that his grandfather was definitely involved. And the one thing that Lucas must prevent is letting Balor gain more power. Civilization stood to lose if he did.
Lucas slumped against the steering wheel, trying to fight the lethargy that always swept over him after the beast was loosed. It was the one time in his immortal life that he was weak and vulnerable. He brought the knife out and laid it on his lap. It would have only temporary impact on Balor, of course, but it would put a definitive slash in Caldwell if he were behind this.
So she thought I was beautiful? Lucas smiled groggily, remembering how vulnerable she had looked standing there alone in the middle of the yard. And yet she had held her ground with him and not panicked. He admired that courage. And, he’d liked her dream.
He felt the hard nipple beneath the soft cloth as he pressed his lips over it. In another dream minute, he would guide her hand to touch him while his own fingers hiked up her skirt and stroked her thighs, then dipped into her hot well to slide the slick wetness between her folds and caress the nub that would send her into ecstasy…
He gave himself a shake and struggled to sit up. He was a fool. He had allowed himself to slip into her dream and it had almost cost her life. The enchanted wolf had already been at the window before he’d taken notice. All he could do was howl in warning. It almost hadn’t been enough.
He could never fulfill that fantasy anyhow. Even though he had more control of the beast now than he did in the beginning, he knew what it could do when he was lost in climax and what could happen to the woman he was with. He couldn’t take that chance with Sara.
Keeping things platonic with Sara wasn’t going to be easy, not when she exuded feminine sensuality without even knowing it. He tried not to think about her wide, blue eyes that reminded him of the Highland sky, nor the full lips as pink as the first sprigs of heather. Lucas sighed and began reciting the Templar Rules that he had so long ago pledged to, even though the modern world no longer strictly required their adherence.
Rule: Chastity is certitude of heart and healthiness of body…
But it was Sara’s body, nude and supple beneath him, that kept intruding.
* * * *
Baylor snarled his own annoyance as he watched the wolf he’d ensorcelled slink away. He’d recognized the big, light-haired lobo for he had watched him tear apart two of his best men after De Molay’s burning. Damn the immortal Templar. Baylor’s fingers itched to tighten around Ramsey’s throat, but he doubted that it would do any good. Until he knew the source of the man’s immortality, he was indestructible. And even if Baylor could kill him, he’d destroy himself too. Ending immortality for one ended it for him as well. Some stupid Universe Rule.
He could go into the cabin and finish the job himself, of course, but that would leave questions to be answered. He didn’t like leaving trails. Finding a girl half-ripped to shreds by a wild animal in a desolate area could be an open-and-shut case, neatly filed away in some rural police office. No one would ever have known she had the papers. But any means of human murder would be under investigation and that would eventually lead to her employer and the discovery that she had a copy of the manuscript. Better he leave Caldwell in place.
And they could always use the Morgan woman. Caldwell had learned that she had the hots for some man named Michael who was one of the bitch’s friends. Information he coul
d use later, but for now, perhaps it was time to throw the gauntlet down. Caldwell had bragged countless times of his prowess in bed and his ability to make women talk. Perhaps it was time for him to prove it.
The bitch had a copy of the manuscript. A few special drugs and a good rutting until she passed out would do the trick. Maybe he’d have Caldwell take a video after she was out. Baylor liked watching powerless women being taken. He’d tell Caldwell to make sure it was hard and rough.
He felt himself harden in anticipation. He’d put Caldwell on it tomorrow.
Chapter Five
“A wolf attacked you? How terribly bizarre!” Mr. Smith exclaimed as she told him, Alan, and Lucas what had happened the next morning. “And, of course, how horrible frightening,” he added as Lucas frowned at him from across the room.
“But you handled yourself very well,” Alan said with a smile as he stepped closer to where Sara was sitting and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I admire brave women.”
“At the moment, I was thinking more of survival,” she answered and tried not to fidget as Alan patted her arm.
“It might be wise not to put yourself into the path of danger,” Lucas said with a scowl. “What possessed you to go to such an insolated place by yourself?”
What possessed him? He had been cool and detached ever since she’d gotten to the mansion and now he was insinuating that she had been foolish? She wasn’t a child! She stood up and walked over to him.
“It’s my parents’ place. I go there when I need to unwind. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Maybe the wolf was rabid or something.”
“A rabid animal would not have turned and run,” Lucas replied dryly. “And didn’t you tell us there were two wolves?”
She could still see the big lobo in her mind, the gorgeous fur coat and how he had seemed to laugh with his tongue lolling out. “The other one seemed docile enough.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Docile?”
‘Well, yes. He made no attempt to attack me.”
A strange expression flitted over Lucas’ features. His eyes darkened slightly and a corner of his mouth quirked up as he leaned toward her. “Never trust a wolf, lass.”
She glared up at him, wishing she didn’t have to tilt her head so much but she barely came to his shoulder. Now he was being pacifying. “I wasn’t going to try and pet it or anything.”
His eyes fixed on her upturned face and his gaze settled on her lips. She wondered when he’d stepped closer, for his own sensual mouth was only inches from hers. Her breathing became shallow as she felt his body heat.
He seemed to hover there for an eternity and then he looked into her eyes, the whiskey-colored depths of his seeming to search her soul. “Ye’ve no idea what the beast could do,” he said softly. “‘Tis better ye stay in town while there’s work to be done.”
He’d slipped into the brogue again and she was beginning to realize he did that when he was intent. He was trying to warn her about something and she didn’t think it was about a maverick wolf in the country. But he was right. They needed to work on the manuscript and she needed to tell him the story she had thought of to give Mr. Smith.
“I’m sorry my absence yesterday delayed your cataloging the medieval earthen ware,” she said formally as she moved toward the door. “We’ll get right on it.”
Alan Caldwell blocked their path. “I still have questions about the swords,” he said and picked up her hand. “If the Scotsman is going to hold you prisoner all morning looking at pots, the least I can do is take you to lunch. We can talk then.”
“That sounds like a marvelous idea,” Mr. Smith said.
She’d almost forgotten he was in the room. Being held prisoner by Lucas wasn’t a bad idea…going to lunch with Alan was. There was something about him that she didn’t trust and she wasn’t sure it was just his smooth speech and good looks. Lucas was devastatingly good-looking too, and she trusted him… She stopped herself. Did she trust Lucas? Michael had made a point about power and corruption.
She withdrew her hand as easily as she could. “It might be better if we just ate here. The chef does wonderful things to a salad.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Smith insisted. “After the fright you had yesterday, you need to indulge yourself. Go to the Top of the Dome.”
She groaned inwardly. Driving into Dallas and fighting the traffic near Reunion Tower was the last thing she wanted to do. ‘I’m really not dressed for that.”
“We’ll keep it simple then,” Caldwell said. “But your employer is right. You are definitely a lady that deserves to be indulged. And I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll meet you back here at one o’clock.” He gave Lucas a triumphant look and walked toward the billiard hall before she had time to answer. Lucas glowered after him.
“Well,” Mr. Smith said as he settled behind his desk and looked at them expectantly. “What have you learned?”
Sara went to the door and peered into the hall before she closed it and took a seat opposite Lucas. In the chair this time and not the settee. It seemed she couldn’t think straight when she was that close to Lucas and her version of the story she was about to tell needed to seem authentic.
“I’m not sure if Mr. Ramsey has had time to finish his translation,” she said carefully, leaving some wiggle-room for him. “I wasn’t quite able to complete Professor MacDonald’s notes, either, given the circumstances, but here’s what I think we have.”
Lucas gave her a quizzical look and she hoped he wasn’t going to interfere. If what he said were true about the Hallows’ real power, the less people who knew, the better off they’d be.
“You were right, Mr. Smith. The manuscript does seem to talk about the Holy Grail.” She waited while he gleefully clapped his hands several times. “I assume you’re familiar with the Otherworldly progression that Percival saw when he visited the maimed Fisher King?”
Mr. Smith nodded. “Of course. Candle bearers, a spear that dripped blood, a platter to catch it on and finally, the Grail Maiden, carrying the chalice.”
“Did you know that Galahad collected all these things after the defeat at Camlann? And that he took them with him when he sailed to Sarras?”
Her boss looked dumbfounded and Lucas tilted his head to study her. She just hoped he’d let her finish. “It’s a rather long story.”
“We have time. Tell me.” Mr. Smith said.
“Please,” Lucas added, his golden eyes flickering with amusement.
She ignored that. He should be looking serious. If he wanted any kind of funding at all, Mr. Smith would need to think the treasure was really big. And what could be better than a twenty-first century quest for the Holy Grail?
Briefly, she told him of Galahad’s arrival in Jerusalem and later, the Templars unearthing the treasures and the finally bringing them to Scotland under the guardianship of the Sinclairs. And that the Sinclairs may have brought the treasure to an island in Nova Scotia that had a mysterious pit built on it.
Mr. Smith was silent a moment and then his eyes widened. “Are you telling me there’s a chance that all three artifacts might still be together?”
“Maybe. But Galahad took Arthur’s sword with him as well.”
Her boss looked at her bug-eyed. “Excalibur? Are you saying it exists?” He put a hand dramatically over his heart. “My dear, do you realize the value of finding both the Holy Grail and Excalibur? And to think I’d own both in my private collection!”
Lucas cleared his throat. “Having just seen a small part of what you own, I can imagine how you must feel. I’ll admit, having been on the dig that unearthed the manuscript, I’d like to see these relics myself. But perhaps the humanitarian thing to do would be to allow the world to see them as well. If I remember the legend, the Holy Grail was supposed to be a healing instrument and the round platter symbolic of the equality of the people. The Sword of Truth and the Spear of Light offer tolerance and understanding. With the right marketing and promotion, perhaps people would learn to believ
e again. What a service you would do to allow the world to experience that.”
Sara nearly gaped at him. Here she was, trying to revive a myth and he was
interweaving the real story into it. Then she frowned. Marketing and promotion sounded so commercial. So potentially corrupt. Did Michael have a point after all?
Besides, if the Hallows really were found, their power needed to stay secret and hidden. Real power and strength came from within and it was the way the Goddess worked. Change the way people think and people changed their behaviors. And with the Hallows, that work could be done through the universal network of white witches.
“Perhaps Mr. Smith is right,” she said. “It might be too dangerous to expose such artifacts to the whole world. What if the wrong person got a hold of them?”
Lucas narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Ummm. Perhaps it might be wise to keep them private until all of them are found. It would make a much better impression to offer the whole collection at one time.”
“Yes!” Mr. Smith clapped his hands excitedly. “I would at least own them for awhile until I made a decision. Now I think the two of you should make plans to travel to this Oak Island you told me about.”
Travel with Lucas? The two of them alone? A thousand butterflies fluttered madly about her stomach, batting their wings against each other. Her blood heated as her pulse suddenly raced. She found herself gulping for air.
“I doubt that there’s anything in Nova Scotia worth spending time on,” Lucas said. “Modern treasure hunters have scoured the island and the infamous Money Pit keeps flooding despite recent attempts at excavation.”
Sara’s blood chilled at his words. He didn’t want to travel with her. Maybe all of this tingling response she had to him was all one-sided. He’d certainly not acted interested in her this morning. But did he think she was just going to sit in Texas and wait for him to make all the discoveries? Well, he’d better think again.
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