Immortal Protector

by Ursula Bauer

  Meg considered what her options might be as the sole point to avert universal destruction. Talk about checkmate. Only one thing came to mind. “Why not just kill me? If I’m out of the picture, the line is safe.”

  Gideon’s lips tightened into a thin frown. “You’re assuming the vision is accurate.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Not this time, no.”

  Come with me if you want to live. His words echoed through her brain. It was more than the demons he saved her from. “You’re telling me that the Gods are out to get me?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Why are you helping me, Gideon?” Her initial shock turned to anger. What had she done to deserve this? “It sounds like you’re violating one of the major rules of this precious game. You should be making sure I don’t start the apocalypse, not driving me to Vegas.”

  “You’re not the problem, Meg. The vision is inaccurate. That means I need to find the real truth if I want to maintain the integrity of the line. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing more.” He sighed audibly, a sound mixed with both frustration and resignation. “I didn’t want to tell you this much because I need you focused. I don’t want you in a state of panic. The Gods are not out to get you. You’ve been caught up in something by accident. I’m here to keep you safe, and remove you from risk as soon as I can figure out how. Once I do that, I’ll figure out what’s really behind the vision, just like I’ll figure out how to find the real deviation point and exploit it to our advantage.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you helping me?”

  “Because I work for the Goddess Bast, and I serve justice, Justice doesn’t mete out punishment upon innocents. That fate is reserved for the guilty.”

  She wanted to take comfort in his words. They were so forthright, so noble. They were also very final, a confirmation of all her fears. She was on borrowed time. “Why does Bast care if I live or die?”

  “I’ve worked with the Gods for centuries, Meg, and I’m still confounded by their capriciousness and callousness.” He shrugged. “Bast watches over women and children. You help children. Perhaps it’s as simple as that. She picked me for immortality because I did her an unknowing favor when I stopped two soldiers from beating an alley cat to death with sticks. Gods are big on whims. That’s why they’ve come so close to destroying the line so many times. The universe craves order, the Gods incite disorder. The mortals get caught in the middle.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was so confident once she knew the general ground rules she’d be able to find a way to win. She was used to cheating death, to finding new and inventive ways to forestall it in her patients, she assumed she’d do the same here. To know there was such randomness around her, to know that disaster lurked around every corner, that was worse than knowing things like demons and vampires and magic existed in her world.

  They fell into tense silence as the miles rolled by and she struggled to accept everything she’d learned. She kept trying to push the boundaries in her mind, but they resisted and the struggle wore her out. After a while the landscape blurred together in one swirling mass of green, and she must have fallen asleep.

  Next thing she knew, Gideon was shaking her awake, and the sky was dark and full of stars.

  Her neck hurt and her body ached. She had no clue how long she was out. She rubbed her eyes and looked at her wrist watch. Nine thirty p.m. “Where are we?”

  “Right near the Ohio border.” He pulled his hand from her shoulder and she felt the air cool the spot where it had rested so gently. “We’re at a truck stop. It’s a neutral spot. We’ll be safe here. I need to make some calls. We can grab a bite to eat. We have one more stop to make, and then I’ll get us a room and we can let up for the night.”

  Meg got out of the car and shivered in the cool, damp night air. They must be in the mountains, in a higher elevation. Western Pennsylvania had a ton of them. She’d need her sweater from her bag. Before she could say a word Gideon shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

  “This will keep you warm. Come on, let’s go inside.”

  The leather enveloped her like armor. It smelled like him, radiating heat and comfort in an equal mix. She felt safe and secure, as if nothing in the universe could touch her. She gazed up into his eyes and a brilliant flare of carnal hunger sparked up from their fathomless depths. It spoke to her on a visceral gut level. All she wanted to do was touch him, tell him she shared that hunger, that gnawing primal need that could only be sated one way. Unable or unwilling to stop herself, she gave in to her urge.

  As she reached for him, Gideon stepped aside and the look vanished. A blast of chill mountain air gusted between them. Meg lowered her arm and snuggled further into the protective cocoon of the jacket. She might want, and he might want, but together they couldn’t be more wrong. Then again… Meg banished the fantastic thought, mentally chiding herself for her silliness. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Doc.” He put his arm around her in a companionable way. “You haven’t tasted the food.”

  His touch baited her, teasing her body, promising all kinds of unimaginable pleasure. She found herself wondering if perhaps she wasn’t being premature, or puritanical, dismissing the potential of a liaison with Gideon so quickly. Plenty of people had sex without strings, every day, every night. There’d been a time, back in her college days, when that kind of careless abandon was a way to break up the boredom, to learn about sexuality, to have fun, if only for a night. When had she become so closed off? She shifted closer to him, settling into the warmth of his rock solid body, while she let her mind drift over the delicious fantasy of a wild night of abandon with a sexy immortal all to herself. It would be an excellent, if only temporary, antidote to the anxiety created by being number one on the hit list of the Gods. Something to block out the cold, harsh reality that she was in it, and in it deep.

  ———

  He was a fool for touching her. A damned fool. He couldn’t have her, even if she did look at him with desire transparent in her misty green eyes. He noticed that the silvery hue was brighter when he was near, and that stroked his masculine pride. She trusted him, and more, she wanted him. He wanted her. No one woman, however, could be more out of reach. Her scent enveloped him, filled him, teased him like a wicked lover playing bedroom games. He should be ten feet away or more, whatever the safe distance was to keep his libido under control and his mind on anything other than making love to her until she screamed his name again, and again and again. He was torturing himself. Touching Meg like he did, holding her against his side as they walked into Ray’s Truckstop, that was all he’d get. All he’d allow himself to have. Anything more was only a fevered dream at best. A dangerous indulgence that could cost them both the ultimate price.

  The traffic was heavy tonight. Many of the booths were filled, blood-sworn enemies sitting side by side at times, all abiding the rules of neutral ground. A few of them gave him a hard, long stare, but no one was stupid or crazy enough to start trouble. He’d had enough trouble to last him a century or two. It wasn’t just fighting the remaining demons, either. It was Meg, and her questions, and conclusions. She was too damn smart for her own good. She’d almost figured out he was there to kill her, not save her. He’d been lucky to turn that one around.

  Gideon found them an empty booth not too far from the entrance to the gift shop and, more importantly, the phone banks. He got Meg seated, ordered up some food, then excused himself to make some calls. He checked in with Ramon first. The Spaniard answered the dedicated line on the first ring.

  “You’re racking up a substantial bill with Mammett’s.”

  “Don’t worry, Salazar. The Tribunal’s good for it.”

  “Speaking of the Tribunal, Seth put in a discrete request to investigate your actions. He knows you’ve gone rogue.”

  Shit. The Egyptian God of chaos was always a royal pain in the ass. “Didn�
��t take him long to jump into the mix. Makes him look good for this. Has an official warrant been issued?”

  “I was able to redirect the involved parties. For the moment. As troublesome as he is, I can’t imagine Seth has the raw skill to compromise a mystic, or plant a false vision.”

  So, his gut was right. The vision was wrong. Relief spread in a warm rush through his body. “What did you find out?”

  “Not as much as I like, but enough to think you’re on to something. I need to leave shortly for Monte Carlo. I may be out of touch for a day.”

  “So will I.”

  As Salazar briefed him, Gideon debated telling him about Meg’s newfound talent. In the end, he decided to keep it to himself until he knew more. “I’m following up a lead at my end, I’ll check in midday tomorrow, my time. That work for you?”

  “Yes. And, Gideon, be careful. If Seth is directly involved, he’ll come for you as well as the mortal. You two don’t exactly have the best history.”

  “I’ve got the same track record with Seth as I do with any ten Gods. I’ll watch my back.”

  He rang up Matt next, but the shadow ops agent had nothing new to offer other than the theory that the mage could be a tourist and not a resident to the area. If the theory proved true, it would make it more difficult to track him down.

  Disappointed, Gideon returned to the table. He considered contacting Bast, but he needed more before he checked in with her. So far, they had no breaks. No leads. He hoped like hell Jack could help him out. The crazy sorcerer seemed certain after hearing the preliminaries over the phone, but wouldn’t commit until he got his hands on Meg.

  Gideon made some attempts at small talk with Meg, keeping it light, but she was still keyed up. He could tell, because her eyes were shadowed, her movements jerky. She picked at her steak and potatoes, more moving the food around on the plate than anything. He couldn’t blame her, knowing what she did. They didn’t bother with dessert, so he settled up, and they hit the road again. She was surprised when he didn’t turn onto the interstate.

  “Where are we going next?”

  “I need to get some supplies. A little extra protection. There’s no safe house available tonight, so we need to make do with a regular motel.” He took another blind turn. “The motel is run by friendlies, so if we run into trouble and raise the roof, they won’t call the cops. But we’re on our own when it comes to magical cover.”

  She nodded and drew the lapels of his jacket closer to her. He wished her hands would hold him with the same possessive touch.

  The silence between them was tight and uneasy. Gideon concentrated on the terrain until he found the dirt road turn-off he needed. Meg continued to stare out the window, but her interest piqued when he pulled up in front of an old farm house.

  “This looks like the house from The Waltons.”

  “Don’t let the picket fence fool you. The guy who owns this place is an ancient who deals in magical supplies and covers all systems from Santeria to Runic spells.” He shut off the engine. “I’ll only be a minute. Please, Meg, stay in the car. There are things that keep the peace here, things you don’t want to screw with.”

  She gave him a wan smile. “Don’t worry. I’m too tired to fight.”

  “So am I.”

  Gideon ventured into the farmhouse and for once, luck was on his side. He managed to score everything he needed to set up a protective barrier, and the proprietor made a few additional recommendations that would come in handy. He had more than enough to shield them from undue magical probing. Back at the truck, he found Meg, staring up at the sky through the rolled down window. Her skin glittered like moon dust in the dark. His breath stuck in his chest, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.

  Meg noticed him after a moment, leaned back in the SUV, and rolled up the window. He got into the SUV, and pulled back out onto the dirt road.

  “There aren’t this many stars where I live.”

  “You can’t see them because of the city lights. They’re still there, though.”

  “A lot is there you can’t see. But my eyes are opening, Gideon. I’m seeing a lot more, now, in a very different way.”

  Her voice was low, throaty, and laced with a sugar coating that screamed sexy to his ears. The sound played havoc with his senses. If she could do this to him with her voice, her nearness, what might her touch do?

  “The motel’s just up ahead.” He kept his eyes glued to the road, his mind on task, but his body had thoughts of its own. His cock grew harder, stretching against the bounds of his pants, making it difficult to sit still. His blood raced inside his body, and his pulse quickened. By the time he pulled into the motel, he had a raging hard-on that was trying to short-circuit his brain.

  The units were small cabin-like structures, with a kitchenette and two double beds. He was able to get them one set back from the road, which afforded them some privacy. They were the motel’s only occupants, another plus. The minute he dropped the bags, he locked the door, and got down to business. He hoped the arcane rites might take some of the starch out of his dick, otherwise he was facing a long and difficult night.

  “I’m going to shower.” Meg’s announcement had a defiant tone.

  “Enjoy.”

  She grabbed her bag, and disappeared into the small side room, shutting the door with a forceful bang.

  Gideon was glad for the break away from her. The intensity of the attraction he felt gnawed at him like an insatiable hunger. Tasting her was the only way he’d fill that empty spot in his gut, and she wasn’t on tonight’s menu.

  He pulled out the stuff he’d purchased and got to work. He fired up one of the hot plates, filled a deep pot with the holy water from the half gallon milk jug supplied by the magic dealer and poured the requisite three cylinders of sacred sea salts into the mix. The water hissed, then settled down as the joining process began. While that merged energies via heat, he moved on to the more complex part of the working. He opened a Mason jar of what smelled and looked like moonshine, and dipped in a hand-carved bone and horsetail stylus. Then, starting with the low ceiling, he began to paint protective sigils.

  The shower hummed as he worked, and fragrant steam seeped out from beneath the bathroom door. He remembered how it felt to wrap himself in mist around Meg’s body, to slide against her skin and envelope her inside of him. The thought did little to ease the tight, desperate ache in his groin. That ache only got worse when she emerged, freshly bathed, her copper-colored hair curling around her angelic, heart-shaped face. She wore a simple pale blue T-shirt and thin gray jersey pants. The cold air from the AC in the main room caused her nipples to harden and press insistently against the thin, clingy fabric of the shirt. Gideon groaned and turned away from the delectable, damning sight. He finished with the back wall and repeated the procedure on the wall over the first of the two beds. He caught Meg’s scent as she neared and he shut his eyes and prayed to no one in particular to help him keep control.

  “What are you doing?”

  He opened his eyes. She was right next to him, half-turned, displaying a tempting profile of her ripe breast. He swallowed hard. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  “How?”

  “This stuff is magically charged to create a protective barrier, and I’m using it to create a series of sigils that will enhance the protection.”

  She sniffed, wrinkling her nose. “Smells like cheap liquor.”

  He continued to paint, moving to the other bed. She followed. “What can I do to help?”

  Stay far away from me. “Nothing. Sit down. Watch TV. I have it under control.” Yeah. Right.

  She wandered into the kitchenette, treating him to an excellent view of her round bottom as it swayed invitingly. “What’s cooking?”

  His core temperature rose another notch. At this rate, he’d spontaneously combust if he wasn’t careful. “More protection. It should be ready. Can you turn off the burner?”

  “Sure.” She turned the dial down, sat in the pla
stic chair at the Formica café table, and tapped her foot nervously against the black and white linoleum. “I can’t stand being so useless. There must be something I can do to help you.”

  Touch me. Feel me. Let me make love to you until we both drop, too exhausted to move. “Nope. I’m fine.”

  He paused at the threshold to the bathroom. He needed to inscribe a few markers in there, but he dreaded entering the confined space. It smelled too much of her, of her perfume, her musk. It would kill him. But he couldn’t avoid it without compromising the spell. He steeled himself and stepped inside the sweet hell. For a moment, all he did was breathe, and then he thought he’d die. His erection pulled heavily at his hips, begging for release. She came up behind him and touched his back. He jumped and spun around.

  “How will that work in here?” She chewed her plump lower lip, her look earnest and trusting. “Aren’t the walls too slick?”

  Gods she was a powerful package. Her mix of vulnerability and sensual appeal pushed him over the edge. He gripped the stylus so hard it cracked in his fist. “You know what you can do? Grab that pot from the hot plate, go around to the doors and windows, and sprinkle the water across each. There’s a thing that looks like a miniature whisk broom on the end table. Use that to spread the water.”

  She gave him a quizzical look as if he were some kind of test-finding she couldn’t understand. Then the look passed, and she shrugged. “Okay.”

  Gideon returned to the job at hand but he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The bathroom had only two exterior walls, and no window, so within a few minutes he was back in the main room of the tiny cabin and she was back in his orbit, a fiery sun burning him and his resistance to ash.

  She’d made fast work and was finishing the main window and door on the wall he still needed to inscribe. He had to complete marks beside the window and over the doorway for the spell energy to knit properly. He focused every ounce of his attention on the task, slowly painting the ancient symbols with the clear, noxious fluid. When he finished the last he stepped back with relief, turned, and knocked into Meg. She’d crept up behind him waiting to finish the door. The hot water splashed from her pot onto his hand and burned the exposed flesh of his hand.