IK2 (4 page)

animals.”

“Of course,” the officer said and closed his notepad, slipping it into his shirt

pocket. He glanced up at the now empty sky. “Let‟s break it up folks. That‟s all for

tonight.”

Michael kept her tucked up against him until the small crowd dissipated. When

the last one had gone, he released her and she spun on him.

“Just what was that all about? The last thing I want to do is deal with an arrogant,

sexy man who thinks he‟s God‟s gift to women!”

His mouth quirked up. “You think I‟m sexy? That‟s a good start.”

She glared at him, hands on her hips. “No!
You
think you are. Men like you

flatter and flirt until you get what you want and then the woman is left picking up the

pieces and putting her life back together.”

His expression sobered. “You‟ve been hurt.”

“Never mind that. What are you doing here anyway? I‟m about to have a

nervous breakdown and I need time to think about what really happened tonight.”

Michael started to reach for her and then let his arm drop. “There is no need for

you to have a nervous breakdown,” he said. “What you saw was real and I know who—

or what—the dragon is. Let‟s go inside and talk.”

* * * *

Michael spent the time waiting while Sophie checked on the animals pondering

just how much he should tell her. Or, more precisely, how much she could take.

She looked exhausted when she finally came back to the waiting room. Her face

was pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. Michael wanted nothing more than to

take her into his arms and soothe her with his magic, but his warlock sense told him she would only interpret that as a sexual advance. And, as voluptuous as her body was, she

had suppressed any inclination to flirt. Someone had hurt her really badly.

Maybe in time, he could find out who the jerk was. But, if they were going to

work together, she had to trust him. He sighed. That meant putting all his lustful

thoughts of her soft, naked body, legs spread wide for him, aside. At least, for now.

Sophie sank into one of the leather armchairs placed about the room. “I really

saw a dragon?”

“You really saw a dragon.”

Sophie closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Michael‟s fingers itched to touch

her. He could relieve the tension easily enough—a simple mind-spell would do it, but

even as he thought it, she opened her eyes.

“How is it possible?” she asked in a shaky voice. “Dinosaurs, which people

probably mistook for dragons, became extinct long ago.”

“Two entirely different species,” Michael answered. “Dragons are magical

creatures.”

She stared at him. “Magical? Like unicorns? Don‟t tell me they exist too!”

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 15

They did, but Michael saw no reason to bring that up right now. Sophie already

looked a little wild-eyed. He probed her aura gently, b ut she had astral shields in place.

Pushing at those would cause her more distress.

“Thousands of years ago, dragons roamed quite freely on Earth. When humans

came, the dragons tried to help, but the mortals were afraid of the sacred fire they

breathed. Instead of trying to understand the dragons, the humans hunted them. The

dragons withdrew into the mists.” Michael paused, giving her time to absorb what he

knew probably sounded like science- fiction. “The reason people think dragons don‟t

exist is because, over the passage of time, people have stopped thinking of them.” He

paused again and tried to mind- link, but her defense shields were firmly in place. Should he continue? “The same thing happened with the old Greek and Roman gods. The new

religion replaced them, just like it did the goddess of Avalon.” Michael stopped when

Sophie held up her hand.

“Please don‟t tell me there is some mystical Lady of the Lake floating around

somewhere too!”

Michael tried not to wince, reminding himself that Sophie was practical and

logical. She had, after all, gone to medical school for years and thought like a scientist, not like the witches he was used to working with. She would need time to accept Truth.

“Perhaps it would help if I gave you my theory on the difference between non-

existence and forgetting- to-remember?” he asked.

She eyed him warily. “Okay.”

“The ancient gods and goddesses have faded into Time because people have

gradually forgotten about them. Many of those religions, like the Celts, were based on

worship of the divine- feminine. The goddess in her three forms: maiden, mother, crone.

In the third century, when the Romans decided it would further their needs to hoist a

single religion on the world they were conquering, they chose to adopt the new religion

as their own. But the warrior legions would be thought weak to worship the Great

Mother. They kept the holy trinity but made it a god instead: father, son, spirit.”

Sophie‟s brows creased and Michael could see she was processing the

information. Her breathing had slowed to a normal, deeper rate too. He tried not to

notice how her breasts lifted with each inhalation or think about how good they would

feel pressed against his chest as he held her, massaging her back and making her feel

better. Then he chided himself for letting his mind run amok again.

“You are talking about the spread of Christianity?” she asked.

Michael nodded, forcing himself to refocus. It had been decades, if not centuries,

that a woman had distracted him this much. “Constantine was no fool. He knew the

conquered tribes had deep roots in goddess worship so he didn‟t even try to take away

their sacred festivals. He merely incorporated them into his own calendar. Samhain

became the Hallowed Eve of All Saints. Yule was the time to celebrate the Christ‟s Mass

and birth. Ostara‟s celebration became Easter and Beltane was called Whitsun. Over

time, people forgot the origins of the holy days. That doesn‟t mean those goddesses

didn‟t exist.”

Sophie stared at him now, her sapphire eyes appraising. “But they are gone now.”

She hesitated a moment. “Aren‟t they?”

How many times had he summoned the old gods--Tanio of Fire, Awyr of Air,

Dwfr of Water, and Pridd of Earth—when he called the quarters at the full- moon

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 16

meetings of the coven of witches that he worked with? The balance of their magic gave

the Circle its power. But Michael was pretty sure Sophie wasn‟t ready to hear any of that just yet or even accept what he was. Maybe especially not what he was.

He shrugged slightly. “Perhaps they only slumber.”

“Like the legend of King Arthur and his knights sleeping until the world needs

them again?” Sophie asked with more than a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

Michael smiled at her. If only she knew…. “Something like that,” he said. “Is it

so hard to believe that deities live—some good, some evil—beyond our recognition?”

He tilted his head a bit. “You saw a dragon earlier.”

Sophie‟s face paled. Her mouth opened and then closed. She blinked her eyes

and then sagged back into the armchair in defeat. “I really wasn‟t hallucinating?”

“No. What you saw was real.”

She shook her head. “Dragons aren‟t real.”

Michael opened his mind and sent a strand of magic toward her forehead to link

with her third-eye chakra. Hopefully, it would help her accept what seemed impossible.

“He left those scorch marks so that you would not doubt.”

Her eyes widened slightly as his wisp of magic touched her. “Who is he?” she

whispered.

Michael took a deep breath, hoping he could keep the flickering magical

connection with her mind for a bit longer. He had seldom met someone with such a

protective shield of logic as she had. “He is the Pendragon. Defender of Britain.”

She stared at him. “Like in King Arthur Pendragon?”

“Not exactly. The term is a title, meaning “Mightiest Dragon”. Even after

dragon-kind retreated to the safety of the mists, the gods assigned a Dragon Protector to each land. Britain was prophesied to one day rule the wo rld.” He smiled. “The

Pendragon stopped the Romans. They never were able to invade Wales, Scotland, or

Ireland.”

“But the Britains lost to the Saxons eventually,” Sophie said. “That is a fact in all

the history books.”

“Partially true. Vortigern, the betrayer, allowed the white dragon of the North on

to Britain‟s soil. They didn‟t conquer all of it though.”

Sophie eyed him skeptically. “Just for the sake of argument—however illogical

this is—does the white dragon still live too?”

“I don‟t know,” Michael answered. “Most of what was written about dragons

exists only in metaphysical references. As the new religion became stronger, the old

gods‟ power grew weaker. The dragons eventually withdrew from activities on Earth.”

What he didn‟t add was that the white dragon had been Balor‟s pet.

“So why is the red dragon back now? It makes no
sense
.”

Sophie spoke the word triumphantly, as though she had just won their little

argument. Her chin lifted and she gave him a determined look as if to challenge his

response to her logic. He wondered if she were part Vulcan. Then he bit back a grin.

His experience with women had been that the harder they tried to remain logical,

the hotter their physical response was once he found the key to unlock all those repressed emotions. He wanted very much to be the man who opened her to the pleasures of

unleashed, lustful passion. His groin tightened in response and he pulled this thoughts back. Someday—but first, there was the matter of finding the sword.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 17

“Do you remember that research project I told you about earlier?” When she

nodded, he continued. “I am looking for a very old sword that was once a holy relic of

the old Celtic religion. It has magical powers that could be deadly if it fell into the wrong hands.”

Sophie was staring at him again, this time total disbelief evident on her face. “A

magical sword? Give me a break. Next, you‟ll be telling me it‟s stuck in a stone

someplace and you have to pull it out!”

“That was a different sword,” Michael replied. “This one was made from a fiery

stone that fell to earth more than two thousand years ago. The red dragon found the

meteor and forged the sword with his own breath. I think he‟s returned to help me find

it.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you weave quite an incredible faerie tale,” Sophie said, “but how

gullible do you think I am? Tell me, how did you rig the hologram to appear right over

my clinic?”

Michael studied her for a silent moment. She began to squirm in her chair. “I had

no idea of where your clinic was,” he finally said and waited for that truth to sink in.

Sophie stilled. “Then how …?” When he didn‟t answer, her face paled. “Even if

what you say is true…what…what would the dragon want with me?”

“That I truly do not know,” he answered, “but somehow, I think you are to assist

me in finding the sword. And there is someone else who is looking for it. We must find it before he does.”

“Of course. Let‟s add to the mystery here. Maybe a twenty-first century version

of
Romancing the Stone
? You don‟t look anything like Michael Douglas and I‟m

certainly no Kathleen Turner.”

“This isn‟t a movie, Sophie. I‟ve told you the truth. I know it sounds strange.”

“Strange?” She gave a clipped laugh that sounded more like a bark. “What is

this—sword of fire—supposed to look like?”

“The blade shines blue-silver, like the very finest steel. The hilt is gold with

silver runes and a large ruby is set in the pommel.”

“Very distinctive. A ceremonial sword?” Sophie asked, a trace of sarcasm still

lingering.

Michael shook his head. “Not ceremonial. Excalibur was wielded in many

battles.”

“Excalibur? The
legendary
sword of the
mythical
King Arthur?”

Michael watched her warily. She didn‟t believe him. What more could he say?

Very discreetly, he sent her a truth spell along a thin tendril of magic toward her.

“I am not lying,” he said. “We seek Excalibur.”

Her eyes rounded for a moment. “Of course we do.” She began to laugh, softly at

first, then more sharply. Tears trickled down her face as her volume increased. She

began to hiccup, but she couldn‟t stop laughing.

There were only two cures for hysteria that Michael knew. One was to slap the

person. The other way was a kiss.

Michael reached down and lifted Sophie into his arms, his mouth settling over

hers, claiming sweet victory along with salty tears. Her lips trembled beneath his, soft and full and warm. His tongue licked along the crease, encouraging her to open for him

and he was rewarded with a small moan low in her throat as she stilled.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 18

And then it was his turn to groan, as her knee connected with a very swollen part

of him.

* * * *

Adam Baylor took a puff of his Cuban cigar and leaned back against the soft