Chapter Eighteen #2
“The air feels heavier here, almost as though there is a lack of energy.” Michael took her hand and moved to the center of the circle.
“The natives held ceremonies here, most likely sacrificial rituals. This is where slaves were sold, families split. There’s a pall hanging over the place. So much sorrow.”
Sophie glanced around slowly, half-expecting transparent wraiths to rise from the ground, wailing. “You’re talking about ghosts?”
Michael shook his head. “Only residue now. The spirits are gone.”
“Great. That makes me feel better.” She looked up to see a dab of sunlight dribbling through the leafy branches. “So why would a twentieth-century Templar bury Excalibur here?”
“Justice. Excalibur has been called the Sword of Justice, as well as the Sword of Fire. Burying it here is symbolic of righting the wrongs that have been done in this place.”
“Is everything symbolic?”
“Not everything.” He grinned. “I’d say making love to you is pretty much the real thing.”
“You’re thinking of sex now?”
“Sure.” His grin widened. “Isn’t that what all men have on their minds most of the time? Besides, don’t tell me you didn’t want a quickie on the way down here. How about if I lean you up against that tree over there? We could give some positive energy back to this place.”
“Michael McCain! You don’t expect me to… I mean, that old man could come up here any minute.”
“I can create an invisibility illusion. He won’t see us.” He moved closer, putting his arms around her waist, nuzzling her nape, tugging on her ear gently with his teeth. “Oaks are sacred trees to druids. The energy force will be incredible—past anything we’ve done so far.”
Sophie leaned back in his embrace and stared at him. “How can it get better?”
“Ah, you flatter me,” he said and slanted his mouth over hers, teasing her lips with his tongue until she made a mewling noise deep in her throat and opened to him.
Sophie hardly noticed how he back-walked her to the tree.
Strangely, the bark didn’t feel rough as he pressed her against it and unbuttoned her shirt.
He bent his head to take a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking back and forth over the tip before he turned his attention to the other and suckled it thoroughly.
Warm tropical air fanned over the wet nipple he’d just laved, and her spine began to tingle where the trunk touched her.
Michael’s hard, hot cock brushed against her belly.
When had he unzipped his pants and pulled her shorts down?
His mouth claimed hers again, taking and demanding, as he spread her legs and lifted one of her thighs over his.
“Keep your eyes open for this,” Michael whispered.
Sophie grasped his shoulders and then gasped as his thick erection filled her.
The sensation of being partially clothed yet totally vulnerable was incredible.
She rocked her hips against him, wanting him deeper.
He responded with slower, more leisurely thrusts, making her ache even more for him, but she had learned that this pace would make her body nearly insatiable and the climax would be earth-shattering.
As their bodies found their natural rhythm, Sophie looked up to see the tree’s branches begin to sway in unison, the leaves fluttering as though a gale were whipping through.
“The tree—”
“Shhh,” Michael murmured, “just enjoy.”
Their auras blended, becoming one. Sophie stared in awe over Michael’s shoulder as rainbow hues swirled around them.
The hues intensified as he thrust harder and deeper, the reds and oranges glowing like fire.
She could feel the inferno building inside her too, the torrid flames leaping higher and higher, making her skin super-sensitive—and then, just as the inferno spilled over her like molten lava, white light exploded from the tree, surrounding them both, blinding her with its brightness as the world swirled around her with dizzying speed.
Slowly, she became aware that she was sitting on the ground, propped against the tree. There was no wind, but the oak was now just a burnt stub of a trunk. “What—what happened?” she asked.
Michael smiled and held up the Sword. “This,” he said.
****
They arrived back at the hotel just before dusk, Excalibur locked securely in the leather-covered steel case that Smith had given them.
“I want to get this into the hotel safety vault right away,” Michael said as the valet drove their car away.
“Then I’ll call Smith and tell him to send his pilot for us first thing in the morning.
The sooner we get back to Dallas, the better I’ll feel. ”
“Me, too. I’m going to go up and tell Pendragon the good news.”
“Don’t take too long. I’ll meet you out front. We can walk to the Market and grab a bite.”
Sophie nodded and took the elevator up to their floor. “Good news!” she said as entered the suite.
“It’s about time,” the dragon replied after she’d finished her story. “It will be good to see that Sword again. I helped forge it, you know.”
“I guess I’m not surprised,” she said with a smile. “I knew there had to be some reason you were sent here besides supposedly protecting me.”
“I haven’t done much in that category at this size,” Pendragon grumbled.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to return to your regular size once we get back,” Sophie soothed.
“Damn right. And there’s still that little matter of Sigurd to square away. Has he been seen here?”
“I think so,” Sophie replied. “There’s been some sort of strange lightning out by Grand Isle and Grand Terre.”
“Just wait until I get my claws into him,” Pendragon said. “He won’t be terrorizing humans anymore.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t that what you were doing when you first arrived? If I remember correctly, you rather enjoyed frightening humans to within an inch of their lives.”
The dragon looked sheepish—or at least as sheepish as something covered in metal scales and spikes could look. “Well, that was before I discovered that humans made ice cream.”
Sophie laughed and got up from the couch where she’d been sitting. “Okay. You just have to stay small a little longer. We’ll fly back to Big D tomorrow morning. I’ll bring you some ice cream when we come back from dinner.”
She rode the elevator down and started to cross the almost empty lobby—and then she noticed the crowd of people on the sidewalk out front. An ambulance, lights flashing, pulled to a stop.
“What’s happened?” she asked the nearest bystander, trying to see through the crowd for Michael. Maybe he was still with the security people?
“Hit and run,” a middle-aged woman said in a hushed whisper that still sounded somewhat excited.
“This nice-looking man—well, he was really good-looking, like a movie star or something—anyway, he was standing on the sidewalk, and this car with its windows tinted all black came careening down Decatur, hopped the curb—”
But Sophie was gone, pushing her way through the throng. “Let me pass! That’s my friend!” She gave a final shove and broke through. Michael was being placed on a stretcher and she rushed to his side. She picked up his hand, but he didn’t respond.
“How badly is he hurt?” she asked.
“Broken ribs, for sure,” the medic answered. “Probably a concussion. The ER will check for internal injuries.” He pried her hand away gently so they could slide the gurney into the ambulance. He’ll be at Tulane, if you want to follow us.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll get my car.”
She watched for a moment more as the ambulance hit its siren and sped off.
It was hard to believe that Michael was hit.
She’d always thought of him as some invincible hero, but now he was hurt.
Concussions could be really dangerous, especially if there was head swelling.
Her legs began to shake and her body trembled.
A strong male arm grasped hers, steadying her. “Are you all right?”
She looked up into the blue eyes of a college kid with curly blond hair, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. “Yes, thanks.”
“That was your friend?” he asked.
“Yes. And I’m fine,” she said as he continued to hold onto her. “I’ve got to get my car to go to the hospital.”
“You don’t look fine. You’re pale and you’re sweating. Signs of shock. You shouldn’t be driving.”
“You look a little young to be a doctor,” Sophie said wishing she really didn’t feel so shaky.
He smiled, which made him look even younger. “Maybe I will be one day. But hey, my car’s right here.” He pointed to the drive where a valet stood beside a vintage Mustang. “The hospital is just a few blocks away. If you trust me, I’ll give you a ride.”
She knew she shouldn’t trust a stranger, but this was a friendly college kid—and there were plenty of people around.
Someone who had ill intentions wouldn’t want to have a lot of witnesses.
She did feel a little dizzy and she certainly knew the signs of shock.
The kid was right. She shouldn’t be driving.
“Well, okay. Thanks.”
“Great,” he said as they walked to his car and the valet helped her in. “I’ll have you there in no time.” He buckled up, then shifted the car into drive.
“I’m really glad to meet you, Sophie,” he said as they pulled out of the hotel driveway. “My name is Lucien.”