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“You weren’t driving that Honda yesterday?”

He stared at her. “I wasn’t here. I rented the thing this morning when I got in.

What’s the problem with the car?”

“Oh, it just followed me all over Arlington yesterday.”

His voice was edgy. “And what were you doing driving around by yourself?”

Her chin came up. “I’m not a child and it was broad daylight.” Probably not a good idea to tell him about the lunch with Caldwell.

“I thought we’d agreed that you would stay in and keep the doors locked.”

She refused to let him make her feel guilty. “A lot of good locks do!”

Instantly, he became wary, like a wild animal sensing danger. “What do you

mean by that?”

“My apartment was entered last night by someone who had a key. He searched

for the copy, but all he got was my Gwenhwyfar papers.” She watched his face, but it showed nothing except concern as he stepped over to her and grasped her shoulders.

“Are you okay? Where was the … McCain? He said he’d guard you.”

Goddess, his touch erased any thoughts that he could possibly be guilty. How

could hands so warm and gentle be capable of firing a 9MM into her bed? And his eyes didn’t waver. He couldn’t be lying. Could he? Her Losers had been great actors.

“Michael got a call that his mother had been in an accident. He went to Waco.”

Lucas cursed softly. “This is Baylor’s doing. He conveniently got both of us out of the way.” Then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Why didn’t your friend arrange for someone to be with you?”

She narrowed her eyes in response. “What are you getting at?”

He paused. “How well do you know McCain?”

Every sense alerted. “We’ve been friends for nearly ten years. I’ve already told you he runs the temp agency for me.”

“Is that all?”

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Somehow she didn’t get the feeling he was asking out of jealousy. “Why?”

He walked over to the desk and sat on the edge, arms folded across his chest. “I know that he’s a warlock.”

She felt her face pale. “What makes you think .... ”

His jaw set. “Don’t lie to me. Ever. I know that you have a Sisterhood Circle that worships the Goddess. That’s fine with me. I told you the Highlands still honor Brighid, too.”

Her mouth gaped and she snapped it shut. “How did you find out?”

“Doesn’t matter. I should have suspected earlier. What does matter, though, is do you know what else your friend might be?”

“Now what are you talking about?”

“Know anything about shape-shifting?”

She gave him a cool look. “Just because I practice white witchcraft—harnessing nature’s forces and channeling energies—doesn’t mean I’m loony enough to believe in men turning into werewolves or vampires or something.”

Lucas looked pained. “A shape-shifter is a bit different. He—or she—can turn into whatever animal they want. And the strong ones can even create the illusion of being a different person. They are very vulnerable when shifting and someone like Baylor could grab control of the shifter’s mind.”

Sara knew that any person who raised her own awareness through attunement to

the elements ran the risk of negative forces wanting to draw on that power. It was why it was so important to keep invisible shields in place. A kind of psychic ward.

She tried to laugh but it didn’t really work. “So what are you saying? That

Michael might be hanging out as the neighborhood mutt?”

Lucas shook his head. “If you follow the Goddess path, then you must believe

there are other life forms—elementals, faeries—cohabiting this universe. Why not shape-shifters? Or even werewolves?”

His voice was oddly intent. She wondered if he’d ever sensed Nim. “Yes, I work with nature’s beings. But this is too much. Michael isn’t responsible for what happened last night.”

Lucas trained his eyes seriously on her face. “I’m saying that Baylor could be controlling him. I was gone and if McCain came up with an excuse to be gone, too, it left you wide open for an intruder. Does Michael have a key to your place?”

Now there’s a loaded question. Maybe Lucas was prying a bit after all. “No.”

When he looked relieved, she added, “He thought you might have.”

His eyes lit with interest and a corner of his mouth turned up in pure alpha male satisfaction. “Why would he think that?”

Her traitorous hormones reacted to the slightly husky hint of lust in his tone, imagining him letting himself into her apartment and stripping off his clothes as he came to her bed, his erection fully hard and impaling her as she woke from her sleep … she pushed the image away. She had to clear the air on this other thing.

“Michael thinks maybe it was you who let yourself in.”

She sensed, rather than saw, Lucas tense. His amber eyes seemed to glow

suddenly and the desk lamp from behind him was doing tricks with the angles of his face.

“You think I broke into your place to steal a copy of something I’ve already read?

Why would I do that?”

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Sara hesitated, not wanting to say the rest. But she had to put her mind at ease.

“He said… He said maybe you wanted to be the only one who knew what was in the manuscript. That Professor MacDonald was dead and if I were silenced .... ”

His face paled beneath his tan as he sprang from the desk’s edge and cupped her face in his hands. “Silenced? What are you saying? I thought someone rifled the place.

You were there? What in hell happened?”

She stared into his eyes, trying to ignore the desire that was building in her as the heat from his hands spread downward, swelling her breasts and searing through her belly.

“Someone shot me last night.”

“What?”

“Shot me. Well, shot at me in bed. Only it was pillows .... ” She didn’t have a chance to finish for his mouth suddenly claimed hers, his lips hot and demanding as he ravaged her mouth, demanding entrance. She parted her lips as he pulled her against him, one arm across her back, pressing her already heavy, achy breasts to him while the other hand cupped a buttock and he ground what felt like a foot of steel against her hip.

His tongue thrust in and out of her mouth, mimicking what the lower half of him wanted to do. Sara opened her lips more fully and he sucked her tongue into his mouth. She felt like she was going to melt totally into the warm, wet gush between her legs.

With an effort, Lucas broke off the kiss and pushed back, his eyes gleaming

preternaturally. He was breathing hard as though fighting an inner battle.

“I would never hurt you, Sara. Never.”

She realized she was panting too, as the taste of him lingered on her tongue and her core still throbbed with intense longing to feel that hard, thick shaft inside her. But he had stepped back from her, putting distance between them.

“I believe you,” she started to say when the study door opened and Mr. Smith

stepped inside with Alan Caldwell.

He had the decency to look slightly alarmed. Probably afraid that she would give something away to Mr. Smith about his raucous behavior yesterday. Well, not in front of Lucas. Not after that scintillating kiss.

“I thought you were finished here,” she said.

He gave her a small smile. “My editor wanted a few more details.”

“Yes, yes,” Mr. Smith beamed, “always happy to oblige. Why don’t you sit

down while I go get those history books that I was telling you about?”

“I think I’ll stand if you don’t mind,” Caldwell said. “I … went horseback riding yesterday afternoon and I’m sore.” He went over to the window and looked out.

Sara raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been interested in riding horses yesterday at lunch. He didn’t look like the cowboy type and there were no public riding stables that she knew of in the area. Strange.

Lucas was watching him too, his neck stiff and his chin lifted as though he were scenting the air, almost like a wolf. Sara shook her head. He must have addled her brains with that kiss. Wolves and werewolves. What was she thinking?

* * * *

Baylor watched Caldwell as he stood beside the girl, Morgan, who she sat on the sofa in his hotel suite. She was a hot little piece of ass. Even now, as she traced her fingertips along Caldwell’s thigh, she kept giving Baylor provocative sideways glances.

He still wasn’t sure that letting the witch know about the Hallows had been a

SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 98

good idea, but he understood that uniting and balancing male and female energy would create more power. And she was able to draw on the Circle of do-gooders too.

Especially the Kincaid woman’s and he needed that. The bitch seemed damn near invincible and she wasn’t even immortal. Morgan’s ‘friends’ just didn’t realize how willing she was to use their power for dark purposes. Baylor had his own plans of uniting all that energy with her later and sucking it in. He smiled, wondering if she’d like what he planned to do.

“So Ms. Kincaid is alive and well?” he said pleasantly. Caldwell had called him earlier with the news.

“Yes. Should I try talking to her again tonight?” Caldwell asked while Morgan made a sound of displeasure low in her throat.

Baylor shook his head. “You don’t seem to be too successful in persuading her to do anything,” he said and noticed that Morgan had dropped her hand. “I think perhaps I need to meet the lady myself. Do you think that can be arranged?”

“Do you want me to bring her to you?” Morgan asked as she licked her lower lip.

“No, my dear,” Baylor answered, “I don’t want her knowing you’re involved with me in any way. I want to save you for some other missions.” He thought he actually heard her purr. Well, maybe the fifty-thousand-dollar modeling contract she’d just signed helped. That was only the beginning, though, if the witch took any pleasure in the kind of sadistic games he liked to play in bed. And he had a feeling she would. He turned back to Alan.

“Hire a couple of thugs by tomorrow. Have them waiting when she gets home

tomorrow night.”

Morgan frowned. “She won’t be alone.”

Baylor raised an eyebrow. “Who will be with her? Ramsey?” It was about time to teach the Templar a lesson, even if he couldn’t kill him.

She shook her head. “No. Michael. Our warlock.”

“Ah.” Baylor saw the red heat of passion fire in her aura. This was the man she was besotted with. The one he could use to bend her to his will if she didn’t serve him well. Perhaps he should give her a little incentive.

“Do you suppose you could distract him? We’d only need an hour or so.”

She smiled and curled strands of long hair around a finger and let her hand brush across her breast as she lowered it. “I think so.”

“Good,” he replied and nodded to Caldwell. “You can go. Oh, yes, one more

thing. Tell the grunts not to kill the bitch. Bring her to me.”

As they turned to the door, Baylor caught Morgan’s hand. “If you wouldn’t mind keeping an old man company for a little while?”

Her smile was totally feline. “You’re not old.”

“Perhaps you could make me feel young again,” he said and grinned when

Caldwell slammed the door.

* * * *

Michael was sitting in his car and waiting for her when she got home.

“I brought dinner,” he said as he joined her by the front door holding a bag of Chinese carry-out.

“Smells great,” Sara said as she let them in, “but you didn’t need to do that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were going to make dinner? Since when did you

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learn to cook?”

“I know how to cook,” she said as she set out plates. “I prefer not to. Anyway, when did we arrange for dinner? You were pretty angry with me this morning.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He actually looked contrite, which was a trait Sara had never seen him exhibit. “But since I’m spending the night, I needed some nourishment.”

She wasn’t sure she heard him correctly. “You’re spending the night?”

He grinned and handed her chopsticks. “Yep. Backpack’s in the car.”

“Michael, we’ve had this conversation before. I’m not sleeping with you.

Women follow you as though you were the Pied Piper. I’d just be another conquest.

Let’s stay friends.”

The grin faded and the humor left his dark eyes to be replaced with the predatory look of the warlock. “For the record, you wouldn’t be ‘another conquest.’ But if I truly meant to seduce you, Sweetheart, I wouldn’t have brought food with MSG in it. Makes me … uh … sleepy, you might say.”

She frowned. “Then why …?” Suddenly her eyes widened. “You think I need

protection, don’t you?”

“I know you do,” he said and ignored her look of exasperation. “Whoever paid

you a visit last night may come back. I’m surprised Ramsey didn’t think of it.”

“Stop suspecting him, Michael. We had a talk today.” She hoped she wasn’t

blushing remembering how that talk had ended in a mind-blowing kiss that would have put any Frenchman to shame. “And,” she added logically, “if he had been the visitor, the easiest way to get me alone is to come home with me under the guise of protecting me.”

For a moment, she felt an adrenaline rush as she thought of Lucas’ comments on Baylor’s possible control of the warlock. Goddess, she’d known Michael for ten years, surely she would have noticed some change in his behavior if Baylor had started manipulating him.

She had to stop this paranoid way of thinking.

Michael was watching her with the intensity he only showed during rituals. Then she felt him nudge at her mind. She brought her shield up. Too late.

His head jerked back in surprise. “You suspect me?”

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