Immortal Protector

by Ursula Bauer

“You’re not a soldier anymore?”

  He lifted his sleeve, exposing a forearm devoid of the magical sword. “I’m a regular guy.”

  He noticed she still wore the pendant, but the pink stone had changed to an opalescent white. She was free of the spell and the residual energy. Relief washed over him. Bast and Salazar assured him she was free, but Gideon didn’t trust either of them any more than necessary. “Do you still want me?”

  A ghost of a smile drifted across her berry colored lips. “I love you, you big idiot. Of course I still want you.”

  “If you love me, prove it. Marry me, Megan Carter.”

  She pulled him down to her and kissed him so hard it hurt. The pain was good, reminding him he was human, a man with a woman who loved him. “I take that as a yes.”

  He lowered the rail so he could sit beside her. She settled against him and for a moment they stayed in silence, holding one another.

  “Did they find the artifact?”

  “Yes, in Russell’s house.”

  “What about the Gods?” she said after a while. “Are they angry you left?”

  “No. We saved the dimension’s integrity for now, and their collective asses. They’ve granted me more than mortality, they’ve granted both of us immunity.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You saved a damned soul of a child. That counts for a lot with some Gods, particularly Isis, the Goddess who originally imbued the artifact with the power. She spoke on your behalf, and she has a fair amount of clout.” He held her closer and stroked her silken curls. “The Tribunal gave us immunity for our combined actions. I have a lot of powerful enemies. Now, you do too. We’ll both live to ripe old ages, Meg, but we can only die of natural causes. Anyone seeking overt, or covert harm, becomes a target. We’ll have what’s called situational mortality, meaning if we die by anything other than natural causes, it’s only temporary. We just need to be careful no one in the normal world finds out about our little secret. We’re safe, so are any children we may have.”

  She shifted in his arms and turned her face up to him. “Speaking of kids, how do you feel about them?”

  His gut tightened as memories of his sons surfaced. This time he let them come, along with the grief. He didn’t try to hide, or force them away. “I like kids. I had two during my first life and wasn’t a very good father. I’d like to try again.”

  “That’s good.” The mist cleared, replaced by a clear sparkle. “Remember Jack mentioned the artifact might change me in ways he couldn’t immediately see? It didn’t just change me, it changed a part of you.”

  He nodded, wondering where this was leading. “How?”

  “I’m pregnant, Gideon. With our child.”

  His throat went dry, and he touched her cheek with reverence. “I was sterile. And it was only two days ago.”

  “Isis gives life.”

  “She does.” The thought of his life to come filled him to bursting. He was mortal again. He had a woman who loved him, a woman he loved with all his heart. And he was going to be a father. All the centuries of emptiness, the hollow existence, were worth it to reach this point. Lightness entered his heart as his ghosts began to leave him at last, one by one, until his soul felt clean again. “Let’s go home, Meg. I want to make love with you until the end of forever.”

  Epilogue

  Atlantis—Three months later

  The black sands shifted restlessly beneath Seth’s magic. The threads of time and space twisted and turned as he worked the spell to tap into his most powerful mystic’s visions. The result released image after image, none of which were the ones he wanted to see. Frustrated, he cursed, and the sands settled with a final gasp into an inert heap.

  The Egyptian God of Chaos sat back on his heels and stared into the darkness of the cool, Atlantean cave. “You never should have released Gideon from his terms, Salazar.”

  “It wasn’t my doing, Seth. I suggested we keep him until all the artifacts were located. Bast, however, was determined to allow him his trial, and grant him what he desired.” The Spaniard’s voice resonated like a God’s inside the cave.

  As always, Salazar seemed unaffected by everything transpiring, and considering what transpired appeared to be the end of all time as anyone knew it, that was quite a feat. Seth had always liked Ramon. They had more in common than either would ever admit. If Seth had to have an accomplice, there was no better partner in crime than this strange man who was far more than a simple immortal. “How many retrieval teams have failed to find them?”

  “Five so far. Are the visions still the same?”

  “The paths change, but the end result is worse than what was first believed. The dimension collapses.” Seth sighed. Chaos. Such a delicate thing. The neutral fulcrum that kept the universe together. And it was his to watch over, use as he desired, and, on occasion, protect. Three months ago, all he wanted was a single soul committed to him. Today, he knew better. And he wished he didn’t. A part of him wanted to go back to the old times, the simpler times, when destruction and wars and the normal business of Gods and men didn’t appear to have such impact. The rest of him, however, wanted to settle this matter and ensure his smooth existence experienced no more threats. “This is more than restarting a war between myself and my idiot nephew, Horus. If those artifacts remain in circulation much longer, there will be no turning the tide of fate. Gods and men alike will perish. No realm tied to our dimension will survive. I don’t know about you, Ramon, but I like my status quo.”

  “We’re doing our best, Seth. The artifacts are enchanted and off the grid. The Council has our best retrieval specialists working on the task. We are still searching for the primary conspirator. We’re tapped out at the moment.” Salazar coughed discretely. “The Wardens are cautious after the most recent problems with infiltration. And I don’t need to remind you how untrustworthy you’re considered?”

  Untrustworthy? The understatement of the age. If Seth could figure a way to locate the last few missing jars, secure the artifacts himself, he would have no cares at all. To leave it in the hands of the fools who ran the Council was to assure the worst ends possible would result.

  There had to be a way. Ramon was speaking softly, but Seth blotted him out. His mind reached back into fonder memories of more bold times and a dark idea took shape. He leaned forward, reached his palm out over the sands and they stirred. A man’s face appeared in the scrying surface. Seth smiled, and recalled something a Norse God once told him: Chaos meeting Chaos creates order. His world right now was far from orderly, and only getting worse.

  “Now is not a time for caution, Ramon.” Seth looked to the conjured man’s face again, and smiled. Not a man really. Part God, part lunatic, perhaps. The embodiment of chaos. Yes. This would work. And if it didn’t, at least it would promise a spectacular end. “I have a plan, Ramon. It will take every ounce of cunning you and I possess to pull off, but I think it will bring us both what we desire.”

  “You are forbidden to act on this, Seth, you know the Tribunal rulings, and the laws of the Covenant.”

  “I know I don’t want to cease to exist and I know you want to protect your precious Covenant. If that means we need to break some rules, it wouldn’t be a first. For either of us. Are you in?”

  His question hung for a moment in the still cave air. Then there was a rustling sound, like someone smoothing garments, and Seth knew he’d won.

  “I’m in.” Ramon’s voice held an edge of restrained excitement. “But I run this game. Those are my terms.”

  Seth released his hold on the scrying sands. So far so good, the Spaniard was following form. Just like old times. The God of Chaos warmed to the coming challenge. This was far better than the rush of claiming a single soul for his side of a war he knew he’d never fight. This was what the game was all about. Risking everything to gain everything. Who knew what other rewards he might pick up along the way. “Of course, Ramon. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  About the Autho
r

  To learn more about Ursula Bauer, please visit www.MuseUnplugged.com or send an email to Ursula Bauer at Ursula@MuseUnplugged.com.

  Sleeping with the enemy was never so magical.

  Don’t Let Go

  © 2007 Sydney Somers

  Book two in the Spellbound Series.

  Private investigator Finn Calder would sooner take a Lancaster witch out to dinner than work another cheating spouse case. Considering the long standing feud between their two families, that’s saying a lot. But when gorgeous Bree Jacobs works her way into the middle of his case with one memorable lap dance, Finn starts to think things are finally looking up.

  The last man Bree Lancaster Jacobs expected to be attracted to was a cocky P.I. with his share of family secrets. Not even an age-old rivalry can stop her heart from pounding whenever Finn gets too close. As they work to solve a murder they both have a vested interest in, Bree knows she’s in real danger of losing her heart to a man who could never love her.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Don’t Let Go:

  He stopped outside the first door. It had taken surprising little effort to get one of the club’s regulars to chat about the place and who was who. A brief peek out back during his quick stop here yesterday was all it took to get a better feel for the layout of the place. It wasn’t like he was trying to infiltrate Fort Knox, but he preferred to avoid going into any situation blind if he could help it.

  The door handle turned easily, the music from the main stage masking his entry. He closed it quietly behind him.

  Damn. He obviously should have taken a harder look in here yesterday. The sparse conditions didn’t exactly give him a lot of places to hide the small camera.

  Finn walked toward the stereo system, thinking it might be the only place the device could blend in. He doubted Dade would look too closely here. It was the stripper he’d have to worry about it.

  The door he’d noticed off to his right opened, and the light dimmed even further.

  “You’re early,” came the feminine voice behind him.

  Shit.

  Turning around slowly, Finn stared at the silhouette in the doorway, felt his eyes widen as she moved farther into the room. It took him a second to stop staring at the sexy corset and barely-there thong for it to penetrate his mind that he knew her.

  From Louise’s.

  “You,” she said softly, a trace of annoyance filtering into her voice. Her smile dimmed for a heartbeat before she turned it back up to full siren status. “I guess if I caught your name earlier this wouldn’t have been such…a surprise.”

  “You’re not Candy,” he said, wondering if there was some important detail he’d missed. Louise had called her Bree back at the coffee shop. Maybe Candy was some kind of stage name, but he doubted it. Erica Dade had described the stripper as a lanky brunette just that morning.

  The woman in front of him definitely wasn’t the one who regularly gave Mason Dade his Monday-night lap dances.

  “Candy went home. She wasn’t feeling well. She asked me to fill in.”

  Finn didn’t move a muscle. It was a fight to keep his gaze from roaming over every inch of tantalizing skin bared to him. The fact that she wasn’t Candy pretty much ruined his chances for getting the evidence he needed for Erica tonight.

  And that is a bad thing because?

  She took another step in his direction and tilted her face up to study him closer. A flash of something filled her eyes before she blinked it away. Anger? He frowned. Maybe she wasn’t crazy about her job. A handful of times his career as a PI had brought him into contact with a number of women who made money using their bodies one way or another. Some enjoyed it, for others it was a means to an end. Which category did she fall into, he wondered?

  “Why don’t you take a seat?”

  Finn shook his head. He really needed to get out of there before Dade came along. Assuming the investor planned on keeping his appointment, he should be arriving any minute.

  Bree lightly gripped the front of his shirt, tugging him forward. His gaze dropped from her mouth to the smooth swells of her breasts pushing against the top of the corset. Whoever thought corsets belonged in the past didn’t fully appreciate the sexy look of them. Being a man who usually preferred a naked woman in his arms more than one all dressed up, he was seriously rethinking things.

  She leaned up, her mouth close to his ear, her breath warm. “Trust me when I say, I can entertain you just as well as Candy can.” She led him to the chair and circled around slowly, her hand trailing across his chest.

  He tensed at the slow slide of her fingers. The soft friction fired his blood and he stopped himself from catching her hand and drawing her closer.

  She turned him around and pushed him down on the chair.

  Leave while you still can.

  Finn ignored the sensible command his brain shot off and sat, distracted as she leaned down with her mouth inches from his. Her lips hovered close to his jaw and he shifted in place to accommodate the growing pressure in his groin.

  She straightened, her breasts now on even keel with his mouth before she backed up a step.

  “Now tell me, Mr. Dade, do you like what you see?”

  ———

  What were the odds the first man to catch her interest in forever would turn out to be a low-life investor who didn’t deserve much more than to be turned into a wart-covered toad and dumped into the closest swamp?

  And she was really tempted to do just that. If she thought for a minute she could actually get away with it, she would. It didn’t matter that such an attempt would suck her magic dry or that it wouldn’t be permanent. She still might take her chances with repercussions from the Tribunal, just as soon as the scumbag confessed he’d taken Marion’s money and she discovered what he’d done with it.

  Glacier blue eyes roamed over her face in one long, hot pass. She resisted the instinctive urge to close her eyes under such blatant hunger.

  Why couldn’t he have been unattractive, or at the very least, leer at her? It would make the whole situation more bearable to know she hadn’t wasted a second thought on this guy and what that full mouth might taste like.

  She cursed inwardly. Fate was a real bitch sometimes.

  Bree turned away from him, the weight of his gaze on her next-to-naked backside like a wave of warm water rolling down her spine. She chose the top CD and popped it in.

  It didn’t matter what she danced to. After being robbed while traveling through Germany, she’d chosen to make enough money to last her until her cards were replaced by dancing in a club. The money was good, the drunks, not so much. But it was better than calling her parents or Marion for help.

  Lenny Kravitz’s “Again” came over the speakers. Figuring this was business and it didn’t matter what the song was, Bree moved back to him, hips swaying.

  “I think there’s been a little mix-up…” He trailed off the second she started to move her body in time with the music. Bree took her time, making sure every slow roll of her hips caught his full attention. In front of him, beside him, behind him. She made sure every angle gave him something to admire.

  By the time she straddled his legs, not quite seated in his lap, Bree knew he was all but riveted. His gaze didn’t linger on her breasts as much as she expected, catching him more than once watching her face as though it were as interesting as the rest of her.

  That alone left her out of her element and she sought to distract him from seeing anything more than what she wanted by hooking her fingers under his collar and thrusting her breasts closer to his face.

  He didn’t even glance down. The corner of his mouth tipped up in the same playful smile she’d found her heart tripping to in the coffee shop. He raised a hand and, from the corner of her eye, watched it hover next to her waist as though he didn’t know if he should dare touch her.

  At the achy anticipation that craved to feel his hand come into contact with her bare skin, she cursed herself. Right then she wanted him to be a
nyone else. Someone whose touch she could not only welcome, but invite. Enjoy.

  He finally lowered his gaze but instead of feeling relieved he was no longer searching her eyes, a new kind of tension stretched her insides taut as his mouth was centimeters from the tops of her breasts.

  She shook it off and knew she needed to work at getting to the point of all this. She set her hands on his shoulders. “Like the show so far, Mr. Dade?”

  “I think we need to get something straight—”

  Unwilling to risk him pulling back because she wasn’t his regular girl, Bree rocked back on her heels, sliding down his lap.

  He closed his eyes, opening them a second later, and fastening onto hers. She brushed against him again, bringing her front in full contact with his chest.

  He gripped her hips this time and shook his head. “You really need to stop doing that.”

  She leaned forward, her mouth hovering above his ear. “Is there a problem?”

  “Aside from not being Mr. Dade, no, not really.”

  Bree froze. She leaned back and stared hard into his eyes. “You’re not Mason Dade?”

  “Right about now I sure as hell wish I was.”

  Psychic matchmaker Cally gives everyone their happy ending. But can she ever have one herself?

  Touch Me

  © 2007 Beverly Rae

  When Sloan Janson’s best friend makes a sudden marriage after being “matched” by Cally, Sloan is convinced his friend is the victim of a con. He storms into Cally’s small Texas town, determined to expose her as a fraud. The minute he meets her, he still wants to expose her, but now in a totally different sense!

  Years of matching soul mates, however satisfying, hasn’t prepared Cally for the electrical effect Sloan has on her. She’s tempted, and terrified—she’s always known matchmakers can’t have love without blowing the fuse on their gift.

  Her worst fears come true when her ability to match deserts her. If she cuts Sloan out of her life, she’s sure it will return. But is that a choice she can bear to make—or to live with?