The Immortals I_Lucas

by Cynthia Breeding

  Commander Nolen joined him a short time later. “Have you found anything?”

  Lucas shook his head. “Not yet. Everything seems to be here.” He tried to ignore the fact that his wolf was pacing nervously. “Tell me again what happened.”

  “The infra-red cameras picked up heat and movement inside this room,” he said. “When we got here the door was closed and seemed to be locked. Only the entry code didn’t want to work. One of the computer guys said it had been hacked into.”

  He could feel the wolf’s fur bristling. This stank of Balor. Have one of his geeks access the code, then have someone walk around just long enough for the sensors to pick up the movement and leave without taking anything. And probably to get him out of the way, which meant Sara was in danger.

  He hoped she’d taken to heart how dangerous Balor really was and wasn’t taking any chances. That she would stay home with the doors locked. God, he wanted to be there. Much as he hated thinking about another man with her, he hoped her friend would have enough sense to stay alert and protect her.

  That is, if Michael McCain weren’t part of the problem.

  * * * *

  Baylor was livid as he brought the bullwhip down over Toby’s bared testicles. The young man screamed in pain and jerked at the leather bindings that had him spread-eagled across the bed in the cheap motel room he’d rented.

  “How can you so totally screw up tailing the bitch?” Baylor asked. “You rent a black Honda that looks like a thousand other cars and she makes you?” The whip sang again and the end wrapped itself around the stiff-with-fear cock. Baylor jerked the handle expertly and the leather tightened, pulling at the penis. Toby’s face went gray. “I fly you out here all the way from London and you can’t handle a job?” He hitched the whip again further stretching the phallus away from the body. “Since you can’t act like a man, maybe I should remove this for you.”

  Toby passed out.

  “Damn. Can’t even have a little fun with the prick,” Baylor spat as he released the whip with another snap. Then he turned to Caldwell.

  The man sat slumped in a chair across the room regarding him out of two rapidly swelling eyes. Blood had clotted from a broken nose and he had a busted lip, but otherwise was intact. Baylor rubbed his shoulder where the Caldwell had actually hit him. Hit him. He couldn’t remember a time when a mortal man dared to strike back. It was probably the reason Caldwell hadn’t suffered the same fate as his other minion. A god, even a demon one, had to respect something.

  “So you still think witches just dance naked under a full moon?” he asked.

  “The bitch does seem to be more elusive than any of my other marks,” Caldwell admitted. “I’m getting a little tired of it.” He touched his bruised cheekbone.

  “Good. Then maybe this time you’ll get it right,” Baylor replied. “You know where she lives?”

  “Yes. The GPS is accurate. I drove by the complex as she was going into her unit.”

  “I take it she didn’t see you?”

  Caldwell glanced over at Toby who was staring at the ceiling now and silently mouthing a prayer. “I was careful.”

  Baylor followed his look and snaked the whip across Toby’s stomach causing his face to contort in pain although he didn’t scream. “Let that be a lesson to you.” He turned back to Caldwell. “Still have the key?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then do it tonight. The Highlander’s gone and I’ve arranged for the other guard dog’s mother to have an accident. He’ll be called away this afternoon. She’ll be alone.”

  Caldwell nodded and got up to walk to the door.

  “Just one more thing,” Baylor said.

  “What?”

  He fingered the whip and looked at Toby and then back to Caldwell. “If you fail this time, things might not go so easy for you. If you know what I mean.”

  * * * *

  It was dark by the time Lucas finished the inventory and filed his report. He made his way to the hotel he had arranged to meet Gavin and retrieve the shield. It could protect Sara.

  The vampire was waiting for him in a dark, recessed corner of the lounge sipping on red wine. Or at least Lucas thought it was wine.

  “Sorry to make you travel in daylight,” Lucas said as he sat down.

  Gavin shrugged. “I kept the curtains in the train’s berth closed on the way up. Only got a bit of a sunburn on my way to the hotel.”

  “Thank the power of modern medicine then.” Lucas remembered when he’d first met Gavin wandering the streets of Jerusalem in search of an unwary soul for a meal. Lucas had been in wolf form, hunting for meat himself since the early Templars only allowed themselves meat once a week. In those days, the vampire couldn’t face the sun at all without excruciating pain.

  As they continued to meet at night and hunt together—the wolf could bring down bigger game even though the vampire could move faster—Lucas had told him how the discipline of the Templars helped him curb the beast’s killer instincts and Gavin had confessed how much he hated taking human life, even it was from murderers and rapists. Eventually, he had joined the Order as well. If the original nine Templars thought it strange that he kept himself in his windowless cell all day, they said nothing about it, for Gavin worked the night shift digging while they slept.

  “So did you find out anything new on Balor?” Lucas asked.

  “He took a flight to Dallas shortly after you did. Used the name of Adam Baylor.” Gavin pulled out a small notebook and looked at it. “He checked out of his hotel about a week ago. Flew to Nova Scotia.”

  The same time Sara and he had gone to Halifax. Lucas felt the wolf tense. He had known Balor was there, but to know that he boldly used his own name and identification meant the former god had grown even more arrogant. More power-crazed.

  “Any hope of linking him with terrorists in light of recent activities?”

  “No. I was able to access his personal email although I doubt he’d be stupid enough to put anything in writing that could come back to haunt him, even in code.”

  Lucas grinned. “Should I ask how you managed to get into his office?”

  Gavin grinned back, showing perfectly normal white teeth, his fangs recessed. “I’ll admit I used Mesmerization. I didn’t have time to seduce the secretary.”

  The ability to hold a mortal in trance would come in handy, Lucas thought, but it wasn’t a trait of a shifter. “I take it the lady was compliant then?”

  “Quite. I only took a wee sip from a very lovely, slender throat. And I managed to look over her shoulder at the phone calls she’d logged in for him, too.”

  “I’m impressed that you remained focused. Anything there?”

  Gavin shrugged. “A few calls from embassies…Jordan, Palestine, Iran. Just the usual suspects.”

  Lucas sighed and waited until the waitress set down his drink before he casually asked, “Anything on Michael McCain?”

  A shift came over the vampire’s face and for a moment, Lucas thought he saw the fangs begin to protrude, but Gavin quickly masked them.

  “He’s a warlock,” he said.

  Lucas set his drink down so quickly that the Scotch sloshed over the edge of the glass. “He’s a warlock? Black Arts?” By the gods, had Balor implanted a spy? And he had entrusted Sara’s life into Michael’s hands!

  “Calm down. You’re starting to Change,” Gavin hissed.

  Lucas felt the wolf about to emerge and gritted his teeth, willing the beast to settle. “Black Arts?” he asked again.

  “I don’t think so. He doesn’t have a criminal record and a few years ago was credited with saving the life of a young woman who was accosted while jogging in some park in Ft. Worth, according to the paper’s archives.”

  Great. So the guy was a hero. Okay, Ramsey. Look at the good side. He can protect Sara. He noticed that Gavin had hesitated. “Is there more?”

  “Strange story. According to the girl’s statement, a panther sprang out from behind some bushes and chased the m
en off first.”

  “A panther? In Ft. Worth?”

  “I guess it could have escaped from a zoo,” Gavin said, “but just moments later, Michael McCain comes strolling from the direction that the cat went.”

  It took a moment for the words to sink in and then his hackles rose and he understood the reason for Gavin’s barely concealed fangs. “Shape-shifter?”

  “Maybe.”

  Which made him dangerous since there was no way of knowing what shape he’d take. And if he had magical protection as well and Balor managed to scent it…

  “I wonder if Sara knows,” he mumbled.

  “Aha! I thought there was a girl involved in this,” Gavin said with a smile.

  “I’m just trying to protect her from Balor,” Lucas said quickly.

  ‘Oh.” Gavin attempted a straight face.

  “She has a copy of the manuscript. She knows what we’re searching for. That makes her Balor’s prey.”

  “True. Well, I don’t know if she has any clue about the shape-shifting, or if that’s even true, but she must know he’s a warlock.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

  “Because she’s a witch.”

  “What?”

  “Witch. Well, I guess you’d actually call her more of a priestess, if they still use that term. But this McCain sometimes meets with twelve of them in what they call a Sisterhood Circle to worship the goddess Brighid.”

  My sister. Lucas sat there stunned and then memories of Sara’s apartment flowed through him. The picture of Avalon, the statue of Venus, the gypsy painting. Her name itself. St. Sara. Sara, the daughter of Mary Magdalene. The Magdalene herself descended through a royal bloodline that led back to Brighid.

  And Brighid was Balor’s arch-enemy, having banished him from Avalon and taken his divinity. If Balor found out that Sara were a priestess of hers, her life would be forfeit. And not in a fast and merciful death either.

  He had to get back to Texas.

  * * * *

  “I’ll be fine,” Sara assured a worried-looking Michael. “Your mom needs you.”

  “I don’t like leaving you,” Michael answered. “Not with what you told me went on in Halifax. The jerk could be out there now stalking the place.”

  “I’ll lock the door after you leave,” she said, “and I won’t open it to anyone, I promise. Your mom’s been hit by a car, Michael. It’s a good two hour drive to the hospital in Waco. It’s already getting dark. Go.”

  He still looked hesitant. “I’ve got the gun, remember? I know how to use it.”

  It took a few more minutes to persuade him that she would be all right for the night and that tomorrow she would stay at Mr. Smith’s home until either he or Lucas got back in town.

  She smiled as she threw the deadbolt. Unless this Mr. Baylor had a key, he wouldn’t be breaking down this door. It was solid oak. She checked the windows to make sure all the latches were down. Feeling rather silly, she even pulled the curtains. Now, no one could even look in.

  She read for awhile and then, getting bored, turned on the TV. One of the cable networks had on something that looked like soft porn. Not that she needed that, but she couldn’t seem to find anything else on. She glanced at the time. Ten o’clock. She might as well watch this from her bedroom. That way she could just fall asleep.

  The man on the screen fisted his lady’s hair, bringing her head back and exposing the curve of her throat to him. He ravaged her mouth in a deep, demanding kiss while his hand tore the flimsy negligee off her, exposing large breasts.

  Wow. A real bodice-ripper, Sara thought as the heroine moaned and the man grabbed her buttocks and gyrated against her belly.

  What would it be like making love to Lucas? Would he take her like this, hard and fast, leaving little room for anything except raw passion? Or would he take his time to make sure she was pleasured? Would he explore every inch of her, running his tongue down her stomach and up the insides of her thighs and then slide its soft velvet texture between her folds, titillating and teasing her very core until she shattered into mind-blowing nirvana?

  She turned off the TV and snuggled under the covers, drifting off to sleep.

  The dream came again. A Templar, his face lost in shadows. He removed the white mantle with its red cross, a lopsided smile on his face as he stood naked in front of her. His huge erection jutted out from a mass of tawny curls and Sara reached to stroke it as he lowered his tall, well-muscled bronzed body over her and cradled her head in his hand. He brushed her hair back and began the long, leisurely exploration of her mouth and throat and breasts—

  DANGER!

  With a jolt, she sat up.

  DANGER!

  Chapter Nine

  When she thought her legs could support her again, Sara picked herself up from the floor in the closet and cautiously inched it open. She was pretty sure the intruder was gone. She’d heard the door shut and he had what he thought he wanted. Still, he could be waiting…

  Sara kept the hammer of the gun cocked and steadied her trigger finger by supporting the butt with her left hand. She took a step and listened. Silence. Second step. Third. Still quiet. She tried not to notice the charred holes in the bed sheet.

  She poked her nose into the hallway. It was empty and the door was closed. Since she’d pulled the drapes in the living room, it was hard to see, but she didn’t dare turn on a light in case he was waiting down the street. Her hand found the doorknob. Very slowly, she turned it and opened the door a mere crack. Light from the parking lot illuminated the door handle and lock. The metal was smooth; there were no scratches to indicate a forced entry.

  Sara closed the door and leaned against it, her breathing shallow. No forced entry meant someone had a key. But whom? Her complex manager did, of course, and Brianna. Michael didn’t. Mr. Smith didn’t. She’d changed the locks after Loser Number Three left. With trembling fingers, she turned the deadbolt, swearing to herself that she would get a safety chain first thing in the morning, and then dragged a dining room chair over and tilted it under the doorknob, hoping it would hold.

  She curled into a corner of the sofa, the gun beside her on the end table. Nim shimmered in the air in front of her, a worried expression on her faerie face.

  “Thanks for warning me,” Sara said.

  The faerie waved a hand. “No need. I tried to get the mask off to see his face, but he only swatted at me.” She fluttered her wings, one of which was bent.

  “Nim! You’re hurt!”

  “I can fix it,” she said, but her brow was furrowed. “I gave him a real good jolt of faerie-buzz which should have felt like an angry scorpion stinging his face. He barely flinched. I smelled magic around him.”

  Great. Now she wasn’t fighting just a mortal foe, but one who had extra protection? “Lucas says Baylor can do that. Was it him?”

  The faerie shook her head. “His stench would be far stronger. Are you planning on staying here tonight?”

  Every nerve ending was screaming to pack a bag and go to a hotel. But her stubborn Irish mind was telling her no one was going to run her out of her home. She shook her head. “Whoever it was, he’ll have to get the briefcase to Baylor first. When they find out its not what they wanted, I doubt they’ll be brave enough to come back. He ransacked the place really well and, since I’m supposed to be dead, he can’t get any information out of me.”

  “In that case I’m going to call on some of my Sidhe friends,” Nim said. “The Fae can at least ward the outside of the house. If anyone comes near, he’ll think he walked into a swarm of angry bees.”

  As she faded from sight, Sara racked her brain again. Who could have had a key?

  * * * *

  Which was the same question an angry Michael wanted to know the next morning as he pounded on her door.

  “What are you doing?” Sara asked as she let him in. “It’s barely dawn; you’ll wake all the neighbors!”

  “I nearly got stung out there before Nim’s friends recognized m
e,” he said. “And she didn’t want to tell me what happened, but the Sidhe don’t leave their earth hills for just anything. So tell me.”

  Reluctantly, she filled him in and showed him the bed. His face blanched as he looked at the bullet holes in the pillows. He pulled Sara to him and held her close. “By the Goddess, these people mean business. I should never have left you.”

  For a moment, she relaxed in his strength and then she gently disengaged herself. “Your mother was hurt, remember? How is she?”

  “They were getting ready to release her by the time I got there,” Michael answered. “Apparently a car came swerving around a corner too fast as she stepped off the curb to cross the street. Luckily my mother has some preternatural skills herself and jumped back. The car barely swiped her.”

  Sara felt chills down her spine, remembering the car careening around the corner in London. “Do you think Baylor ordered it? To get you away from here so he’d have time to break and enter?”

  “Probably. But how would he have gotten a key?” Michael asked as they went back into the living room and sat down.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been searching my brain all night,” Sara answered.

  Michael narrowed his eyes in thought. “I still think it’s suspicious that both Ramsey and Caldwell just happen to show up after that manuscript was bought. Could either of them have gotten a hold of your keys? Did you leave your purse unguarded around either of them?

  “No. I can see why you’d suspect Alan after yesterday’s mess, but I really

  think it’s just an ego thing with him to try and seduce me. He tried the same thing with Morgan. And, not that I like him, but he’s never even mentioned the manuscript. He may not even know we have it.”

  “Then that leaves Ramsey.”

  “Michael, you can’t seriously think that Lucas would try to kill me!”

  “Well, he’s conveniently called out of town, asks me to be sure to keep you safe, and then I’m called out of town. Who knows who planned the car incident? Maybe Ramsey didn’t leave after all. Maybe he hung around and wanted to make sure that anyone who had real knowledge of the transcript didn’t live to talk about it.”