Chapter Sixteen
Balor flicked the ashes off his illegal Cuban cigar, depositing them in a Waterford wine goblet. Damn hotel wouldn’t provide ashtrays, saying they discouraged their patrons from smoking in the rooms. Like Balor cared when he was paying over a thousand dollars a day for the suite.
“What the crap is going on with that dragon?” he asked Lucifer when his brother finally answered his cell on the third attempt to reach him.
“The AP is having a damn field day with the sightings in Charleston and now the Keys. They’re clamoring to know where the vet went, too.
Sigurd is going to blow our cover. Can’t you control him? ”
“Hey, bro,” Lucifer said in a deceptively mild tone. “All I did was defrost him.”
“He’s supposed to be zeroing in on our quarry, not exposing them to the entire world. The fewer people who know what we’re looking for, the better. Have you explained that to him?”
“Yep. Sigurd says he wants to have a little fun after being in the frozen tundra for fifteen hundred years.”
“Well, maybe you could show him how hot hell can be.”
Lucifer laughed. “He breathes fire, remember?”
Balor flicked another ash and wished Morgan were there to relieve some of the tension that was building inside him. He forced himself to sound calm. “How close are you and Landon getting to them?”
“Landon was within twenty feet of them on Church Street.”
“And you?”
“Church Street is a place I’d rather not be. Bad memories,” Lucifer said. “Besides, I’m staying under the radar for now. I had Landon following them in Charleston and on the boat over to Fort Jefferson, as well. We’ve got them in our sights. They just don’t know it.”
“Good. Is the kid behaving for you?”
Lucifer laughed again. “Of course. He’s willing to do anything to keep me from having my way with him.”
Balor didn’t return the laughter. “Keep me posted and try to keep that damn dragon in line.” He hung up the phone, still feeling strangely frustrated. Why weren’t things working out like they should?
****
“What good am I to you if you keep making me stay in motel rooms while you two go looking for the Sword?” Pendragon grumbled from the back of the SUV as they turned onto the Tamiami Trail through the Everglades.
“Twice now, Sigurd has shown himself. He’s playing with you.
Let me shift back and I can destroy him. ”
Michael glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Maybe because he doesn’t scent you with us he’s not really sure. Have you thought of that?”
Pendragon rumbled something unintelligible.
Sophie turned in her seat to look back at the dragon and smile.
She had grown quite fond of him, partly because his very presence was a deterrent for any kind of amorous advances on Michael’s part.
She let her gaze sweep sideways at Michael.
His dark eyes were fixed on the road, allowing her to take in the high set of his cheekbones, his straight nose and strong jaw.
His T-shirt pulled taut over his shoulders and the muscles in his forearm flexed as the car rounded a curve a little faster than the speed limit.
She sighed. If she were going to be honest with herself, it wasn’t Michael’s advances she feared.
It was her reaction to having those strong arms around her, pressing the soft parts of her body against the hard parts of his.
He slanted a look sideways. “Your shields are slipping again.”
She felt herself blush furiously and looked back at Pendragon. The dragon’s lips were curled back from his sharp teeth in what looked like a lecherous grin.
“Stop it! Both of you. I was only thinking about how many more nights on the road before we get back to Dallas.”
Michael’s eyes glittered with amusement. “You still have time to ask me.”
“Ask you what?” Pendragon said.
“Never mind,” Sophie said quickly and turned to look out the window. “Why don’t you two just enjoy the scenery?”
“I am,” Michael said with a grin.
“I meant—Look. There’s an alligator.”
Pendragon stuck his snout out the rear window they’d opened for him and caught the gator’s scent. “He’s a relative of dragons. Where are his wings?”
“Alligators don’t fly,” Michael replied, “even though there might be some resemblance to you.”
“Hmph,” Pendragon answered. “This seems like a strange world around here.”
“It is,” Sophie answered, glad to change the subject.
“What looks like acres of sawgrass waving in the wind is actually marshy sloughs that flow toward the ocean. The trees you see standing in ponds of water are cypress, and the others that look like they’re raised up are hardwoods growing on islands called hummocks. ”
“Now who’s been Googling?” Michael asked.
“Not Googling,” she replied, refusing to give in to his sexy smile—the one with no dimple.
“Biology. I’m a vet, remember? The Everglades is home to a variety of species—interesting birds like anhingas and bald eagles, poisonous pit vipers, deadly coral snakes, boas and pythons too.
Deer and alligators, small game. And, of course, the endangered panther. ”
Michael’s grin widened. “Okay, Teacher. Tell us more.”
She ignored his taunt. This, at least, was a safe subject. “Male cats can weigh as much as two hundred twenty pounds. They’re territorial. Two males can’t stay in the same territory. Their main prey are deer—”
“Stop!” Pendragon interrupted.
Michael slowed the car, pulling over to the sandy shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Sigurd is here. I can smell him.” Without waiting for an answer, Pendragon leapt out the window.
“Damn it, get back in here!”
Pendragon paid no attention, lifting his wings instead and flying toward a cypress grove not far away.
Michael cursed again and opened his door to get out. “You stay put,” he said to Sophie. “Who knows what’s out there.” Turning, he ran for the grove.
“Like I’m going to obey you.” Sophie got out and followed him, hobbling as fast as she could.
She could hear both of them slushing through shallow waters.
For a moment, she thought of water moccasins.
Then she squared her shoulders. They were making so much noise and movement that any smart snake would get out of the way.
She just hoped the gators basking on the sun-warmed mud banks would be too lazy to move unless they were hungry… What time did they feed?
She moved cautiously through the more densely shaded part of the grove toward an area where sunlight filtered through the leaves.
The usual cacaphony of birdsong, frog-croaks and general insect noise suddenly stopped.
Behind her, she heard the sudden splashing of gators slipping into the marshy streams. Not taking time to look behind her, she ploughed ahead.
The trees gave way to a grassy meadow of sorts, but as she burst into it, she saw all hell was about to break loose.
Pendragon hovered a few feet above the ground, wings flapping furiously, unable to actually fly.
Michael stood close to him and, only a few feet from both of them, a panther and his mate crouched low, snarling.
Smoke began to spew from the dragon’s nostrils as he tried to hurl fire, but no flames came.
The panthers separated, slinking low on their bellies as they began to circle their victims. Michael’s form began to vibrate and, as Sophie watched, he morphed into a panther himself, a sleek cat with a blue-black coat. Snarling, he stalked toward the male.
Sophie blinked. What in God’s name was happening? Was Michael using an illusion? She couldn’t tell.
A flare of fire shot past her, singeing the female cat’s paws.
She growled but turned and slunk into the trees to lick her paws.
Pendragon crashed to the ground, exhausted from his effort.
Sophie looked back toward Michael as the other panther leaped to attack him.
The two of them went down, claws digging, fangs trying to bite deep into each other’s necks.
The panther rolled on top of Michael, leaving his belly exposed. Its mighty jaws opened—
“No!” Sophie screamed, extending her hands.
A sharp pain pierced her as the surge of energy pulsed through her and made the world spin.
She sank to the ground, nearly blinded by the light that shot from her fingers.
The male panther flew back, bouncing against a tree, then falling limply into the sawgrass around it.
Michael lay still on the ground in the middle of the glade, but Sophie had no strength left to go to him as she slowly collapsed beside Pendragon.
****
Sophie slowly opened her eyes to the dim interior of a small room that smelled of fresh linens and a hint of eucalyptus. The bed she was lying in was supersoft—filled with feathers, she guessed.
“You’re awake! How do you feel?” Michael rose from the chair he’d been sitting in and came over to the bed.
“A little groggy. Where am I?”
“At a settlement behind the Miccosukee Indian Village. One of their tribal members found us.”
Sophie tried to sit up and fell back against the pillow. “I’m so weak.”
“Let me help,” Michael said and leaned forward, putting his arms around her and propping her against the headboard. “I’m not surprised. That was quite a bit of magic you used.”
“I don’t remem—oh!” It all came flooding back to her. “Those panthers! One of them was attacking you, only you—” Her voice trailed off and she rubbed her temples. “I think maybe I have a concussion.”
“The doctor here checked you out. He didn’t see any signs of concussion. And,” Michael motioned to the modest nightgown she wore, “the nurse changed your clothes.”
Sophie looked down as if seeing the gown for the first time and shook her head slightly. “But I thought you turned into a panther, too. That’s impossible. I must have hit my head.”
“No, you didn’t.” Michael took her hands and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. “What you saw was a very strong illusion of a black panther. Remember how Caldwell thought he saw a flaming Sword in my hand?”
Sophie nodded. “But you looked so real.”