The Immortals III: Gavin

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The Immortals III: Gavin Page 11

by Cynthia Breeding


  “Adam Baylor would be searching for them if they were worth only cash.”

  “Are you talking about the guy who you said laundered money and funded terrorism and drug cartels?”

  “Precisely. He is a very dangerous man and he craves ultimate power. I suspect he is behind these recent murders.”

  “Why?”

  “Diversion. If the police and the media are focused on these killings and tying up Smith’s time and money for defense, Adam Baylor has a big lead on finding the next relic himself.”

  “I guess that makes sense—in a way. But how do you figure I am in danger? I don’t know anything about any of this.”

  “You are somewhat nosy, Miss Whitney. Your friend, Jake, has already paid the price for that.”

  Chloe quieted, her face somber. “Okay, say I accept your theory, but why would a dragon be chasing me and not the other media who hang around?”

  “Because you wear the pendragon tattoo.”

  She stared at him. “How do you know I have a tattoo?” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s not exactly in a visible place.”

  Gavin grinned. “No, it is not.”

  “Then…?”

  For a moment he considered not answering just to see if he could evoke her temper again, but he was having too much trouble controlling his own lecherous thoughts this evening which was disturbing in itself. The Templars had taught him restraint. Holding up his hand to stave off her next remark, he replied. “A button was undone on your shirt the night you swooned.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “But so what? It’s a cute little dragon. I did it on a dare one night when I’d had too much to drink. It hardly makes me part of some kind of dragon cult, or whatever.”

  “Sigurd would only detect the link. He would not make the differentiation.” Gavin glanced up at the pre-dawn sky, wondering if Cernunnos had finished the hunt. Sigurd was his enemy too, since the god used to rule the Celts.

  He glanced at Chloe, wondering if his mind-link had been successful. She hadn’t brought up Cernunnos or the hounds, but maybe she just didn’t want him to think she saw them. The woman was an enigma.

  “We should be getting back before Smith starts to worry. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him before I left. My car’s parked down the road a bit. We can send for yours.”

  “I can drive.”

  “Miss Whitney, have you not listened to what I’ve said? The dragon could very well be seeking you and he may also be close. I am not about to let you drive back alone.”

  “So now you’re going to play the knight-in-shining-armor?”

  Gavin grimaced. She’d mentioned that before. It had been a long time since he’d tried to be gallant. He wasn’t Lancelot, after all. And daylight was approaching.

  “If it will get you in my car on the road home.” He didn’t wait for an answer but took her arm firmly enough that she moved forward with him, although she grumbled about still wanting to find the dragon.

  He would have to find a way to divert her interest on that because what he didn’t tell Chloe was that Sigurd had been Balor’s pet.

  * * * *

  Chloe wished it had been Morgan instead of Mr. Smith who witnessed them returning shortly after sunrise. It would have given her just a smidgin’ of satisfaction to let Morgan think Gavin had been out with her all night. Not that he had hinted at anything that even bordered on being attracted. The ride home had been boringly quiet and he had disappeared as soon as they got back.

  Sometimes she wondered if she really was losing it. She was acting like some high school kid infatuated with the latest rock star while Gavin remained aloof and impervious to her. He wouldn’t even call her by her name. It was always “Miss Whitney” like she was someone’s old maid aunt or something. Geez.

  “My dear,” Mr. Smith said as Benton served them coffee in the breakfast room, “you really must not take it upon yourself to do things like this. Promise me.”

  “Promise you what?” Morgan asked as she entered the room in another negligee with a thin, silk robe loosely knotted at her waist and draped open enough to reveal the top half of her breasts.

  Well, maybe it was better that Gavin had disappeared immediately. Morgan’s theatrical entrance was lost on Mr. Smith. Still, she smiled brightly and joined them.

  “Chloe actually went out to Palo Pinto County last night to look for the dragon!” Mr. Smith exclaimed. “By herself!”

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at Chloe. “I guess you didn’t find him? You don’t seem to be worse for the wear.”

  “No, I didn’t.” But she had found something else. Or she thought she had. But how would she explain two albino dogs the size of ponies and a half-naked man wearing antlers who disappeared when she turned around? Or she thought he did. Maybe he had been part of that erotic dream she’d been having. Heat sluiced through her veins as she remembered Gavin passionately making love to her. Or she thought he did.

  Maybe the antlered-man really was an American Indian doing some sort of ritual. History always said they walked soundlessly. Maybe he actually stole away while she wasn’t looking—or maybe she had imagined the guy, injecting him with enough testosterone to fill a football stadium because Gavin wasn’t interested. Could her self-esteem really be that low?

  It was all so confusing.

  Chloe felt a bubble of hysteria rise in her throat. Maybe the world was going bonkers and not her. If dragons could be real, why not an antlered man who appeared and disappeared out of nowhere? Heck, maybe even werewolves and shape-shifters existed too. And vampires. Why not? Gavin seemed to prefer working at night…

  Geez. If she kept this up, she’d be in a psych ward soon.

  “Well, it’s just a good thing that Gavin went after you,” Mr. Smith said.

  Chloe felt the chill as Morgan’s gaze turned icy-green like a winter sea. She couldn’t help but smile—probably a mistake given the odd glint in Morgan’s eyes.

  “I was wondering where he had gone last night,” she said.

  Chloe kept her smile pasted on. Did that mean Gavin was sharing Morgan’s bed other nights? He’d stopped going to the police station at night so she didn’t know. Was that why he’d been so angry when he approached her? Because he had to leave Morgan’s warm bed and hot body?

  She lifted her chin a little. It wasn’t like she was wanting Gavin to declare undying love or anything. Her mother had a series of lovers while Chloe was growing up and all of them had been nice to her and treated her mother well while they were there. So it wasn’t like she expected anything permanent. She was a big girl now.

  She’d be damned if she let Morgan know the barb had struck home. Feigning a yawn, she stood up. “I think I’ll go get some rest. It really was a long night.”

  As she walked away, another icy blast ripped through her. She didn’t need to turn around to know Morgan was angry. It almost made up for her insinuation.

  Almost.

  * * * *

  Balor lay back against the headboard of the bed and studied Morgan under hooded lids as she sucked him off. She seemed as enthusiastic about the blow job as she always was, but he sensed a power shift within her. It was very, very subtle, but it was there. It almost felt like she was slipping out of his control and he didn’t like it.

  The world was going to hell in the proverbial hand basket. Well, maybe not hell, he thought as he looked up at Lucifer on his knees behind Morgan grinding into her hard.

  Lucifer hadn’t really been taking care of his responsibilities either—he was supposed to in charge of spreading hatred and bigotry in the Christian world since they believed him to be the devil. Balor had carefully orchestrated the Great Recession in the United States to do just that, but the puny mortals were managing to survive. The Europeans were hanging on too.

  The damn Arab Spring several years ago hadn’t helped either. Balor had lost too many henchmen and it would take time to work on corrupting whoever replaced them. Time that he might not have if he didn’t find
the platter before the vampire did.

  “When did you say they were leaving?” he asked after he’d shot a good wad of semen down Morgan’s throat.

  She closed her eyes, shuddering in bliss as Lucifer gave one final thrust. Balor would wager that keeping Morgan from an immediate answer was a little power play on his brother’s part.

  “Day after tomorrow,” she said huskily, her body flushed with her climax. “I dropped the GPS chip into Chloe’s purse yesterday.”

  “Good. I’ll notify Carl to be ready.”

  Lucifer pulled out of Morgan and stood, pulling up his jeans. “Are you sure Carl understands what to do this time?”

  Balor grinned and adjusted his eye patch. “I think I made myself clear.” Actually, it had been quite enjoyable terrorizing the kid with a porn star Balor hired who had a twelve inch dick. Carl was homophobic and the porn guy had been featured in several sado-masochistic films. Just thinking of the kid being reamed thoroughly with that impressive cock had made Balor hard. In the end, though, Balor had let Carl off with just the threat of what would happen if he failed his assignment—and a reminder that he still held the IOU’s to the gambling debts.

  And then he’d given the porn star a few lessons in real S&M. Remembering made him grow stiff and he dragged Morgan on top of him. “Ride me.” He plunged into her hot, dripping sheath as she straddled him and gave himself over to her skills.

  “You weren’t able to lure the reporter to Sigurd’s lair?” he asked when he’d finished and tossed Morgan off him. He’d given Morgan explicit instructions to tell the dragon he wanted the girl alive to use as a hostage.

  She frowned, obviously not having come a second time herself. “I tried. I told her I’d had a photo shoot out in Palo Pinto and she might want to investigate the area. And she did,” Morgan added defensively, “but Gavin followed her.”

  Damn the vampire for his acute senses. “Did Sigurd not have time to capture her before that? Or did he not sense her presence? What did he say when you contacted him?”

  Morgan reached for her clothes and began dressing. “He knew she was there. He was giving her time to fall asleep.” She hesitated and then went on, “He sensed something else too.”

  “Like what?” Balor asked, suspecting Sigurd had scented the vampire, but not wanting Morgan to know there was an Immortal loose.

  “It sounds crazy, but Sigurd said it was Cernunnos, the old god of the forest.”

  Balor exchanged a startled look with Lucifer. What was the god doing in America? His territory was Britain, Wales in particular. It was bad enough the fire god, Tanio, had gotten involved in the search for the sword. They didn’t need another one—especially one whom that damn goddess of Avalon favored—interfering in this hunt.

  Morgan looked from one to the other. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” Balor said quickly, his mind reeling with the new information. The Celtic relics of power had been handed down to mortals from the Tuatha De Danaan, ancestors of the Celtic gods. That Cernunnos had developed a link to the platter must mean it was buried in a forest or the earth, since that was part of his dominion. That was a clue that the vampire didn’t have.

  On the other hand, the Pendragon had lived in Wales protected by Cernunnos before Sigurd—with Balor’s help—had overcome him. That made Cernunnos the white dragon’s arch enemy, not to mention Balor’s.

  Across the room, Lucifer’s eyes flashed red and then returned to blue. “Dude,” he said, “we might have to recalculate.”

  That had to be worst understatement in two centuries.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chloe yawned as they turned their car rental into the parking lot of a small motel. They’d taken an evening flight to Sacramento and the two-and-a-half hour drive north to Weaverville had been done in darkness so she hadn’t even been able to take in the beautiful scenery of northern California. Gavin hadn’t been inclined to talk either. He had looking broodingly intense at the wheel and she was beginning to wonder if he just didn’t like to drive.

  Or maybe he was wishing Morgan was sitting beside him.

  Damn it. Chloe had never claimed to be a sex kitten, but most men found her reasonably attractive. She was not about to spend more than a week traveling through California with a man who refused to converse beyond ‘yes’ and ‘no’.

  “It won’t hurt to be pleasant,” she said as Gavin turned off the ignition. “It’s not like I’m going to attack or try to seduce you if you’re nice.”

  His eyes widened in surprise and it almost looked like he blushed, although the pre-dawn light made it hard to tell. “I was only trying to be polite, Miss Whitney.”

  She refrained from rolling her eyes. “You made the rules quite clear. We are business partners. Mr. Smith will be paying our expenses. There will be separate rooms. I got the message.”

  Gavin lifted an eyebrow. “What message would that be, Miss Whitney?”

  “That you don’t want me here.”

  He flinched. Just when she was about ready to commit mayhem because he was so stoically Spock-ish, he actually showed an emotion.

  “I did not say that.”

  “You don’t have to. It’s in your body language.” Chloe felt the sick thud of rejection settle in her stomach like a lump of coal. Why did she have to be so damn attracted to a man who obviously did not return the feeling? Even as her mind was telling her it didn’t matter, there were plenty of men who did like her—and not just for sex—she had male friends too—her traitorous body wanted to lean in and be close to Gavin, almost as though he were a magnet and she nothing but iron filings.

  “My body language? I fail to see—”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. You all but leaned against the car door on the way up here, like you’re afraid I’m actually going to touch you or something.” She knew she was lying because that was exactly what she wanted to do—touch him anywhere and everywhere, preferably naked—but she’d never admit it. She had some pride left.

  Gavin’s dark eyes held her gaze and Chloe kept her chin up, refusing to look away. Then he slowly smiled and deliberately let his arm slide across her ribs as he reached over to open the door on her side. His body heat enveloped her like a warm cocoon and she caught the woodsy scent of expensive aftershave on his now-stubbled jaw—a look that only made him sexier, damn it. Her breath hitched as he sat back, still smiling.

  She didn’t say a word, stumbling out of the car in her haste to put some space between them before she did something she would truly regret, like throwing her arms around him and clinging like some silly adolescent fan.

  No man should have that kind of animal magnetism, but obviously her body was not about to be persuaded that easily.

  It was going to be a long week.

  * * * *

  It was going to be a long week. Gavin stared after Chloe’s cute behind swaying as she all but ran toward the front entrance of the motel. Now why in the hell had he reached across her like that? As if having to inhale the slight spicy scent of her cologne all the way up here hadn’t been torture enough. Or the fact that her skirt had hiked up above her knee just enough to keep him thinking what the rest of her slender thigh would feel like—look like, he corrected himself. All men were interested in women’s thighs. Leaning over her had given him a whiff of her unique female scent as well and he’d had to exert every ounce of Templar training not to let his fingers brush the soft roundness of her breasts.

  Damn it. He knew better than to play with fire. Hadn’t Gwenhwyfar proved that? The hurt look in Chloe’s eyes had been more than he could take though. She thought he was keeping his distance because he didn’t find her attractive. Hell, the fleeting look of rejection he’d glimpsed told him she probably thought he was repelled. Nothing could be farther from the truth. What he wanted was to unwrap her like some precious gift and meld her soft, nubile body against his while he tasted every centimeter of her without his fangs…just mouth and tongue and hands, touching everywhere.

  Ga
vin sighed. Better in the long run to let her think he didn’t care. Only heartache came when vampires got involved with mortals.

  * * * *

  “It’s not very big,” Chloe said later that afternoon as they stood outside Tao temple in Joss House State Historic Park. The small house was painted pink with a blue porch-like entrance. “The Temple of the Forest Beneath the Clouds,” she read from the brochure she’d picked up. “I don’t think we’ll find any golden platter here, but it’s a pretty name anyway.”

  “Perhaps not,” Gavin replied as he adjusted his sunglasses, thankful that the day was at least partly cloudy. His meds were strong, but his skin still prickled, even with the long sleeved shirt. “However, since the relics date back to ancient times when people worshiped the Sidhe, the platter’s guardian may very well have aligned it to an eastern religion, rather than a western one.”

  “Because Eastern religions are older?” Chloe asked.

  “Because they are based in nature,” Gavin said. “Tao is a path—or a concept of natural order in the universe that humans strive to be in balance with—”

  “Ying and yang,” Chloe interrupted, “the balance of positive and negative energies in the body. My mother meditated a lot when I was a kid.”

  “Your mother sounds like an interesting person.”

  “Yeah. Well, you’ll probably meet her. She lives near Frisco.”

  Meeting Chloe’s mother was exactly what he did not need to do. Why had he even commented on that? “I don’t think—”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. I won’t introduce you like you were my boyfriend or something. I’ll just tell her we’re working on a story.”

  Relief filtered through Gavin mixed with a bit of some strange emotion that almost felt like regret. He had never been introduced to anyone’s parents as a suitor—in fact, he had taken great pains throughout the centuries to avoid maidens and their mamas. So why was he feeling piqued now? Romantic ties with Chloe were what he was desperately trying to avoid. But damn it, for a brief second her eyes had that hurt look that made him feel like he’d just kicked a puppy.

 

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