IK1 (20 page)

Sara didn’t think Mr. Smith had one of the thin, curved-blade weapons. And the thought of beheading brought to mind the Middle-East terrorists. Strange after centuries of civilization that such brutal tactics were still used. She pushed her plate away, leaving the rest of the sirloin she’d ordered.

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“I really need to be going.”

Alan stood when she did and tossed some money on the table. “It’s early. Let’s make an afternoon of it. Ramsey’s not here to make you work on whatever project it is you’re working on.”

She looked at him sharply. Was he hinting about the manuscript? His face was blank, but she recognized a poker face when she saw one. He had another motive.

“No, really. Mr. Smith has given me another project.”

“Nothing that can’t wait,” Alan said with a smile and took her arm in a vice-like grip. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow.” He began propelling her to the door.

Dear Goddess. He was abducting her. Lucas wasn’t going to rescue her this time and Michael didn’t even know she had left Mr. Smith’s mansion. She had been stupid to do this. Briefly, she wondered if he were armed.

“Let me go or I’ll scream.” She caught the rung of an empty chair with her foot and grabbed the back of it. Across the room, the bartender looked up.

“Trouble, Miss?”

For a moment, Alan stared into her eyes and then he let her go. “You

misunderstand me, Sara. I simply wanted to spend some time with you before I left.”

She rubbed her arm and smiled at the bartender who had come over. “I’d like to make sure that this man doesn’t follow me.”

Alan looked suitably chastised. “Ah, baby. Don’t be like that.”

“Go,” the other man said. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t leave until you’re out of sight.”

“Thanks,” Sara said gratefully and hurried outside. She locked the doors to the Mustang even as she put it in gear and then breathed a sigh of relief as she headed east on I-20. He’d be gone tomorrow. At least he didn’t know where she lived.

Looking in her rear-view mirror, she switched lanes and noticed a small dark car behind her do the same. She slowed as she neared the Green Oaks exit in Arlington and the car behind her did the same. As she accelerated it did too. A knot began forming in her stomach. Was she being followed? Alan had a burgundy rental, so this wasn’t him unless he’d stolen a vehicle out of the parking lot. She moved into the right hand lane to exit on Cooper Street. The car stayed in its lane and she let out her breath, not realizing she had been holding it. She’d just exit and go park at the mall.

Just as she was about to turn into the parking lot, she noticed the car again. It must have made a quick lane change that she didn’t see. She continued to drive north, then turned west on Pioneer. This would take her back into Ft. Worth, but it was also too close to her apartment near the lake. There were other cars behind her now, but she could still see the black car. Making a hasty decision, she turned right on Fielder and headed north again. The tail was dropping further behind, but it was still there. She made another right on Park Row and headed back east. She was making a very full circle. When she turned south on Collins, the black car didn’t follow her but went straight. Either he had tired of the game or realized that he had been made.

She realized she was shaking. And she wasn’t at all sure whoever it was hadn’t just turned the chase over to a car she wouldn’t recognize. It would be easy enough to do with everyone having a cell phone. She searched her rear-view mirror and spotted a burgundy car very much like Alan Caldwell’s.

She was glad now she hadn’t headed toward her apartment. If he was that much

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of a predator that he would stalk her with rape on his mind, the last place she wanted to lead him was home.

Spotting a fire station, she pulled in. If he wanted her that badly, he’d have to get past fifteen or twenty physically-fit men first. She just hoped there wouldn’t be a fire.

* * * *

Lucas went straight to the museum once he landed in Glasgow. Showing his badge got him into the secured area. He pulled his copy of the inventory and began comparing it to what was on stock.

Commander Nolen joined him a short time later. “Have you found anything?”

Lucas shook his head. “Not yet. Everything seems to be here.” He tried to

ignore the fact that his wolf was pacing nervously. “Tell me again what happened.”

“The infra-red cameras picked up heat and movement inside this room,” he said.

“When we got here the door was closed and seemed to be locked. Only the entry code didn’t want to work. One of the computer guys said it had been hacked into.”

He could feel the wolf’s fur bristling. This stank of Balor. Have one of his geeks access the code, then have someone walk around just long enough for the sensors to pick up the movement and leave without taking anything. And probably to get him out of the way, which meant Sara was in danger.

He hoped she’d taken to heart how dangerous Balor really was and wasn’t taking any chances. That she would stay home with the doors locked. God, he wanted to be there. Much as he hated thinking about another man with her, he hoped her friend would have enough sense to stay alert and protect her.

That is, if Michael McCain weren’t part of the problem.

* * * *

Baylor was livid as he brought the bullwhip down over Toby’s bared testicles.

The young man screamed in pain and jerked at the leather bindings that had him spread-eagled across the bed in the cheap motel room he’d rented.

“How can you so totally screw up tailing the bitch?” Baylor asked. “You rent a black Honda that looks like a thousand other cars and she makes you?” The whip sang again and the end wrapped itself around the stiff-with-fear cock. Baylor jerked the handle expertly and the leather tightened, pulling at the penis. Toby’s face went gray. “I fly you out here all the way from London and you can’t handle a job?” He hitched the whip again further stretching the phallus away from the body. “Since you can’t act like a man, maybe I should remove this for you,” Baylor said and watched as Toby passed out.

“Damn. Can’t even have a little fun with the prick,” Baylor spat as he released the whip with another snap. Then he turned to Caldwell.

The man sat slumped in a chair across the room regarding him out of two rapidly swelling eyes. Blood had clotted from a broken nose and he had a busted lip, but otherwise was intact. Baylor rubbed his shoulder where the Caldwell had actually hit him. Hit him. He couldn’t remember a time when a mortal man dared to strike back. It was probably the reason Caldwell hadn’t suffered the same fate as his other minion. A god, even a demon one, had to respect something.

“So you still think witches just dance naked under a full moon?” he asked.

“The bitch does seem to be more elusive than any of my other marks,” Caldwell

admitted. “I’m getting a little tired of it.” He touched his bruised cheekbone.

“Good. Then maybe this time you’ll get it right,” Baylor replied. “You know

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where she lives?”

“Yes. The GPS is accurate. I drove by the complex as she was going into her

unit.”

“I take it she didn’t see you?”

Caldwell glanced over at Toby who was staring at the ceiling now and silently

mouthing a prayer. “I was careful.”

Baylor followed his look and snaked the whip across Toby’s stomach causing his face to contort in pain although he didn’t scream. “Let that be a lesson to you.” He turned back to Caldwell. “Still have the key?”

“Of course.”

“Then do it tonight. The Highlander’s gone and I’ve arranged for the other guard dog’s mother to have an accident. He’ll be called away this afternoon. She’ll be alone.”

Caldwell nodded and got up to walk to the door.

“Just one more thing,” Baylor said.

“What?”

He fingered the whip and looked at Toby and then back to Caldwell. “If you fail this time, things might not go so easy for you. If you know what I mean.”

* * * *

It was dark by the time Lucas finished the inventory and filed his report. He made his way to the hotel he had arranged to meet Gavin and retrieve the shield. It could protect Sara.

The vampire was waiting for him in a dark, recessed corner of the lounge sipping on red wine. Or at least Lucas hoped it was wine.

“Sorry to make you travel in daylight,” Lucas said as he sat down.

Gavin shrugged. “I kept the curtains in the train’s berth closed on the way up.

Only got a bit of a sunburn on my way to the hotel.”

“Thank the power of modern medicine then.” Lucas remembered when he’d first

met Gavin wandering the streets of Jerusalem in search of an unwary soul for a meal.

Lucas had been in wolf form, hunting for meat himself since the early Templars only allowed themselves meat once a week. In those days, the vampire couldn’t face the sun at all without excruciating pain.

As they continued to meet at night and hunt together, the wolf could bring down bigger game even though the vampire could move faster, Lucas had told him how the discipline of the Templars helped him curb the beast’s killer instincts and Gavin had confessed how much he hated taking human life, even it was from murderers and rapists.

Eventually, he had joined the Order as well. If the original nine Templars thought it strange that he kept himself in his windowless cell all day, they said nothing about it, for Gavin worked the night shift digging while they slept.

“So did you find out anything new on Balor?” Lucas asked.

“He took a flight to Dallas shortly after you did.” Gavin pulled out a small

notebook and looked at it. “He checked out of the last hotel I had a location for about a week ago. Flew to Nova Scotia.”

The same time Sara and he had gone to Halifax. Lucas felt the wolf tense. He had known Balor was there, but to know that he boldly used his own name and

identification meant the former god had grown even more arrogant. More power-crazed.

“Any hope of linking him with terrorists in light of recent activities?”

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“No. I was able to access his personal email although I doubt he’d be stupid

enough to put anything in writing that could come back to haunt him, even in code.”

Lucas grinned. “Should I ask how you managed to get into his office?”

Gavin grinned back, showing perfectly normal white teeth, his fangs recessed.

“I’ll admit I used Mesmerization. I didn’t have time to seduce the secretary.”

The ability to hold a mortal in trance would come in handy, Lucas thought, but it wasn’t a trait of the werewolf. “I take it the lady was compliant then?”

“Quite. I only took a wee sip from a very lovely, slender throat. And I managed to look over her shoulder at the phone calls she’d logged in for him, too.”

“I’m impressed that you remained focused. Anything there?”

Gavin shrugged. “A few calls from embassies … Jordan, Palestine, Iran. The

usual suspects.”

Lucas sighed and waited until the waitress set down his drink before he casually asked, “Anything on Michael McCain?”

A shift came over the vampire’s face and for a moment, Lucas thought he saw the fangs begin to protrude, but Gavin quickly masked them.

“He’s a warlock,” he said.

Lucas set his drink down so quickly that the Scotch sloshed over the edge of the glass. “He’s a warlock? Black Arts?” By the gods, had Balor implanted a spy? And he had entrusted Sara’s life into Michael’s hands!

“Calm down. You’re starting to Change,” Gavin hissed.

Lucas felt the wolf about to emerge and gritted his teeth, willing the beast to settle. “Black Arts?” he asked again.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t have a criminal record and in 2004 was credited with saving the life of a young woman who was accosted while jogging in some park in Ft. Worth, according to the paper’s archives.”

Great. So the guy was a hero. Okay, Ramsey. Look at the good side. He can

protect Sara. He noticed that Gavin had hesitated. “Is there more?”

“Strange story. According to the girl’s statement, a panther sprang out from

behind some bushes and chased the men off first.”

“A panther? In Ft. Worth?”

“I guess it could have escaped from a zoo,” Gavin said, “but just moments later, Michael McCain comes strolling from the direction that the cat went.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in and then his hackles rose and he

understood the reason for Gavin’s barely concealed fangs. “Shape-shifter?”

“Probably.”

Which made him dangerous since there was no way of knowing what shape he’d

take. And if he had magical protection as well and Balor managed to scent it…

“I wonder if Sara knows,” he mumbled.

“Aha! I thought there was a girl involved in this,” Gavin said with a smile.

“I’m just trying to protect her from Balor,” Lucas said quickly.

‘Oh.” Gavin attempted a straight face.

“She has a copy of the manuscript. She knows what we’re searching for. That

makes her Balor’s prey.”

“True. Well, I don’t know if she has any clue about the shape-shifting, or if that’s even true, but she must know he’s a warlock.”

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Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because she’s a witch.”

“What?”

“Witch. Well, I guess you’d actually call her more of a priestess, if they still use that term. But this McCain meets with twelve of them in what they call a Circle to worship the goddess Brighid.”

My sister. Lucas sat there stunned and then memories of Sara’s apartment flowed through him. The picture of Avalon, the statue of Venus, the gypsy painting. Her name itself. St. Sara. Sara, the daughter of Mary Magdalene. The Magdalene herself descended through a royal bloodline that led back to Brighid.