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crew was pardoned after that. But, to answer your question,” Michael said as eased the

car onto Grand Isle‟s main street, “the Priory has always had warriors as well as scholars and I think whoever was the guardian of the sword might have seen a bit of irony in

honoring someone who actually fought, not because he had to, but because it was the

right thing to do to protect the country he loved.” He stopped the car in front of a local bait shop. “Just like King Arthur did. That‟s the connection.”

Sophie looked around the narrow street and across the scrubby land to cottages

and a slip of blue-water that was the bay. “The sword is here?”

Michael smiled as he got out of the car. “It‟s close, Sophie. Very close.”

* * * *

“Most folks want me to take „em past old Fort Livingston,” the old, grizzled guide

said as he poled the pirogue away from the dock in Grand Isle and headed toward a

narrow inlet nearly invisible in the swamp grass. “Not that there‟s anything there these days, I tell „em. Just oyster and salt grass and black mangroves. A herd of wild ponies.

Them pirates‟ houses long gone, blowed away by too many hurricanes to remember.” He

looked from Michael to Sophie, a gleam shining in his black eyes as his weathered face

cracked into what might have been a smile. “Some say, though, the spirit of Lafitte

walks there on certain nights. I tell „em it‟s the wind howling or maybe the devil.”

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 119

Sophie shuddered a little, wondering what the man would say if he knew there

really were demons and dragons out there.

“Strange, though,” the man continued, “there‟s been odd streaks of lightening in

the sky the last couple of nights, but not a storm around.”

Sophie could practically see Michael‟s ears prick up as his gaze sharpened on the

guide like wanted prey. She hoped the panther wasn‟t about to make a showing and scare

the man witless. The pirogue was only a little less stable than a canoe and she really

didn‟t want to fall into murky water invested by snakes and gators. But Michael kept his tone mildly interested.

“Just lightening? No thunder?”

“Nope. Least ways, not that I heard. One old woman claimed the streak looked

like some kind of dragon, but old Lucy‟s a bit daft in the head. Always claims to be

seeing things in those cards she uses.”

“Cards?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah. The fortune-telling type. She goes into the city couple of times a week to

make money off the tourists.”

Michael flashed Sophie a look and she knew he was thinking of the Tarot-reader

they‟d seen. She shivered slightly although the mid-day air was warm and humid. Their

guide poled through the narrow stream which opened into a slightly larger bayou. The

water lay still and for a moment, Sophie felt as though she were surrounded by a globe of bluish-green light. It was hard to tell where the water ended and the land began as they moved into a narrower inlet again that seemed to be criss-crossed with other streams. It was a labyrinth of swaying grasses, high enough so any horizon that might be out there

couldn‟t be seen. Here and there a
chêniére
rose slightly above the surface, its hard white shells forming a ground of sorts for oak trees that somehow amazingly grew here.

“This here‟s called the “tremblin‟ prairie”,” the old man said as he turned the

pirogue in yet another direction, “on account of you can‟t really tell if anythin‟ is solid or not.”

Sophie sincerely hoped their guide knew where he was going since she was

thoroughly confused, but now she could understand how the pirates felt safe from pursuit.

The governor‟s soldiers would easily have become lost.

“This is it,” the old man said as the pirogue scraped against a hard shell beach

dusted lightly with sand. “Temple Island, although there ain‟t nothin‟ left here either.”

Michael stepped out of the boat into shallow water. Before Sophie could join

him, he picked her up and carried her to the relatively dry ground a few inches above the gently lapping waves.

“My chivalrous knight,” Sophie teased and gave him a quick kiss, missing the odd

look that fleetingly crossed his face.

He smiled. “No need to get your feet wet. Come on.”

Sophie followed him up the slight incline toward tall, live-oak trees that formed

somewhat of a haphazard circle. She felt a slight chill slide over her as she passed

between two of them and then looked up to find Michael watching her.

“You feel it too?” he asked.

“Feel what exactly?”

“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 native Indians held ceremonies SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 120

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 back and unbuttoned her shirt, his hands cupping and kneading her breasts. 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 that he‟d just laved and her

spine began to tingle where the trunk touched her. Michael‟s hard, hot cock brus hed

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

thigh 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 branch‟s begin to sway in unison, the leaves fluttering as though a gale were whipping through.

“The tree…”

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 121

“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 up 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 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 lightening 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 get back from dinner.”

She rode the elevator down and started to cross the almost empty lobby and then

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 122

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,” the 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.”