Wicked Fantasy (23 page)

Where did Gabriel get his info? Conall didn't think you'd get many hits if you Googled “sentient machine births.”

“I don't know anything about electronics.” Gerry turned Fo over and peered into her card slot. “It seems to be stuck up there.”

“Ouch, ooooh, owie!” Fo wasn't suffering in silence.

Gerry made female sounds of comfort.

“How bad is the pain?” Knowing Fo's love of drama, Conall wanted to pin down how bad things were with the demon detector.

“I'm not in pain, but those seemed to be appropriate human sounds for giving birth.” Fo stared at him from wide purple eyes.

If the situation wasn't so desperate, Conall would've smiled. Fo never lost sight of her goal—to be human in every possible way.

“Can your system correct the problem?” He figured not, but he'd hang on to hope until the last possible moment.

“No. I'm having a breech birth. Do something.” Her voice grew even louder. “Save my baby!”

People started to stare again. Gerry grinned weakly at them. “Sorry. My cell phone. It's broken. I'm really attached to it. It's like a baby to me.”

She drew a few strange looks, but people kept moving.

They weren't going to reach the castle in time. Conall had to do something now. “Let's see.” When Gerry handed Fo to him, he studied the problem. “The chip's wedged in there.” He rooted around in his pocket. Keys. He pulled them out. A small thin key that unlocked his safety-deposit box might just fit into the opening.

“Hurry. I'm about to crash!” Fo's voice was fading in and out.

Hell. “Hang in there, Fo.” He worked the key into the narrow slot, then poked and prodded until there was a sudden click and the small chip popped out.

“You saved my baby! You saved my baby!”

While Fo sobbed, Conall stood helplessly holding Fo in one hand and the tiny chip in the other. Gerry rode to his rescue.

“I'll take Fo. You hold on to her baby.”

Something warm and tentative touched him. Gerry accepted Fo as a sentient being along with her very real human emotions. Not many people would do that. But then Gerry was special.

Once Gerry had Fo, they hurried toward the castle. Conall closed his fingers gently around the chip and only fleetingly thought about the bizarre nature of the whole thing.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Fo sounded weak but joyful.

Conall looked. “Haven't a clue, Fo.” No tiny penis to tell the tale.

They entered the castle almost at a run. While Gerry spread the news, Conall took Fo and her baby into the privacy of the conference room. He set her on the table and placed the chip on top of her where she could see it.

Fo's big purple eyes filled with wonder. “It's a girl.” She turned her gaze on Conall. “You saved her, so I'm going to name her after you.”

Conall didn't have a chance to react before an excited crowd filled the room. Kim brought Gabriel to the table and set him in his cradle so he could see mother and child.

“She's beautiful, Fo. She looks just like you.” Gabriel's voice was hoarse with emotion.

Conall didn't see the similarity, but then what did he know about mothers and babies?

Fo rolled her eyes so she could see Kim. “You're a grandma, Kimmie. Grandmas babysit, don't they?”

“I guess so.” Kim sounded uncertain.

Conall figured Kim wasn't quite clear on the concept. Computer chips didn't need diaper changes.

“We'll get our baby a spectacular case and then choose the color of her eyes. They have to be unique because she's so incredible. She's the firstborn of two sentient machines.” Gabriel's eyes glowed with pride.

Fo frowned. She was into the whole human experience and didn't like anyone reminding her of her electronic roots.

As everyone pushed forward to congratulate the new parents, Conall and Gerry made their way toward the door.

Gerry grinned. “You did good, warrior. You were sympathetic, caring, and came through when Fo needed you. I like that in a man.”

“I've faced barbarian hordes with less fear than—”

“Conall, Gerry, don't leave.” Fo's cry rose above the general uproar.

“Guess we don't get to sneak away.” Resignedly, Conall walked back to the table with Gerry beside him.

“Gabriel and I have an announcement.” Fo had recovered from childbirth in record time. “Since Conall's courage and quick thinking saved me and our child, Gabriel and I are naming her Conalla in honor of him.”

There was applause all around along with one voice, it sounded like Ganymede's, that asked, “Isn't that a cooking oil?”

“You're thinking of canola oil, sweetie.” Sparkle's voice.

Then there was silence. Conall glanced around. Everyone was looking at him expectantly. Damn. He was supposed to say something? What? He looked at Gerry and she gave him a thumbs-up.

Here went nothing. “Conalla is beautiful.” She was the most beautiful small black square he'd ever seen. “I'm sure she'll have her mother's love of life and her dad's curiosity about all things. And I'm proud that Fo and Gabriel named her after me.” No doubt his namesake would cause him no end of trouble somewhere down the line, just as her mother had on many occasions. But for now, he'd celebrate her birth.

When Gerry and he finally escaped, they returned to the dungeon. Dawn was close, so they decided to put off the search for Dell. She headed for the shower, but he didn't follow her. The same way he wouldn't join her when she crawled into bed. No matter how much he wanted to curl his body around her while she slept.

Conall had lots of thinking to do. And not just about how to find the bastard stalking her.

He clearly remembered thinking of Gerry as “his woman” while charging to her rescue. His woman? Those two words carried a lot of weight and would require some deep soul-searching tonight. And Conall O'Rourke hadn't corresponded with his soul in a very long time.

“Wake up. Rise to a new, sensual décor, sister. I need to finish sexing up this dismal excuse for a dungeon and then get back to my store before Edge gives away all my candy just for spite. Men can be petty, don't you think?”

Clatter, bang.

“I mean, so I let it slip that he was conspiring with a few demonic vestal virgins. What's the big deal?”

Crash, boom.

“Yes, his demon partnership does make one wonder if he's behind the attempts on your life, but who am I to mention that?”

Bump, click.

“Are you awake yet? The sun has set, time for all creatures of the night to do their things. And their main thing should be having superior sex.”

Kerplunk, swish.

“Oh, and tell Jinx the next time he tries to lift my fave earrings, I'll disconnect his tail—or whatever other appendages he's sporting—from the rest of his miserable little body.”

Slam.

Sparkle? Gerry opened one eye. The other one popped open all on its own when she saw what Sparkle had done. “You've got to be kidding.”

“Good, you're up. And I never kid about sex.” She finished hanging red velvet drapes across the back wall of the dungeon. “There. Turns cold and gray into hot and happening. If sex had color and texture, it'd be red velvet.”

“What the . . . ?” Gerry sat up and looked around. “The place looks like a bordello.”

“Exactly. A first-rate cathouse.” Sparkle paused to study the painting on the wall over the iron maiden—a man and woman tangled in white sheets and red-hot passion. Then she walked over to straighten it. “Whoever first called a bordello a cathouse had it right—a place that's all slinky and sly and sexy.”

“Where's the furniture?” Okay, there was furniture, sort of.

“The stuff you had here was vintage motel cheap. I don't know where Conall dug it up. Now this furniture oozes sensual invitation.” She slid her hand across the back of a silky black chaise longue. “Big enough for two.”

“Yes, well—” It was almost worth shutting her mouth just to see Conall's face when he walked in here.

“Don't argue. It won't do any good. I borrowed this big round couch from the Cock Crows at Dawn. They won't miss it. Don't the erotic possibilities just scream at you?”

Nope, no screaming going on, except for her sense of good taste, which was shrieking over the red velvet couch that matched the red velvet drapes, accented by the black silk chaise longue.

Luckily, Sparkle didn't wait for her to answer. “I've left an assortment of interesting oils on the table along with a candle to heat them. Rub them in. Everywhere.” She rolled her eyes up in her head as she contemplated the oily event. “Slide the hot oil over Conall's glorious chest and totally awesome abs. Then sit back and admire all that glistening male flesh.”

“I don't think—”

“You don't have to think, you have me to do that for you. I've also left a variety of spreadable sweets—chocolate syrup, honey, and caramel topping. Lather them on, then lick them off.”

“We'll be sticky messes.” Why was Sparkle doing this, and how would she stop her?

Sparkle narrowed her gaze on Gerry. “You're supposed to lose yourself in the passion of the moment. Take a shower together afterward, for heaven's sake. Do I have to tell you everything?”

“You're not subtle, are you?” Jeez, all she needed was a madam at the door welcoming clients.

“Subtle? Subtle never won any wars, sister. Men think about sex every seven seconds, so we give them the visuals, the scents, the textures of sex, and thought becomes action. Simple.”

“Cold.” Where were the emotions in Sparkle's formula?

Sparkle shrugged. “I only deal with the physical pleasure part. That's yummy enough for me. You supply the warm fuzzies.”

“The bed looks the same.” An island of normal floating in a sea of sex.

“Not quite. I replaced the mattress while you were sleeping. Good thing you sleep like the dead, because I kind of bounced you off the floor when I moved you. But now when passion rises, and you fling yourselves onto the bed, erotic scents will drive you and Conall to unexplored sensual heights.”

“I'm afraid of heights.” Oops, a Freudian slip. She carefully climbed from the bed, making sure she didn't trigger the mattress's sensual scent-o-meter. Where was Conall when she needed him? Wait. Where
was
Conall?

“You wore
that
to bed?” Sparkle's eyes widened. She sounded like she was choking on the horror of Gerry's cotton jammies.

“Uh, yeah.” Gerry glanced down. Yep, same old jammies. “They're comfy.”

“Burn them.”

“What?”

Sparkle did some eye-rolling. “It's about your erotic image. You look like a cute bunny, all soft and sweet. Can we say prey? A vampire's supposed to be sexy and sleek. Predator. So lose those . . . things. I'll bring you something appropriate.”

She narrowed her eyes to slits of concentration. “Now we start with your face. Makeup. Men like dramatic. Sure, they say they like the natural look, but they really don't. I bet Cleopatra never got up in the morning and said, ‘Gee, I think I'll skip the eyeliner today and let Antony see the real me.' Uh-uh. Didn't happen.”

Dazed, Gerry watched Sparkle open a makeup case that looked as big as a steamer trunk. Oh, wow. “Where's Conall?” Fat lot of protecting he was doing.

“He's sleeping outside the door. He worried about leaving you, but I told him you'd be safe with me.” Her smile was pure evil. “I lied.”

Uh-oh.

“I promised I'd wake him up when I finished. Lucky me, there was no sign of Asima cluttering up the doorway. She has this thing about 'elegance.' Boring bitch. If she knew I was here, she'd be here, too, putting in her snooty two cents on everything.”

“Why're you doing this?” Something Edge had said at the meeting poked at Gerry's suspicions.

“Umm, because sex is the greatest thing in the universe, and I'm the sorceress of all things sensual? Guess that's about it.” Sparkle sounded playful, but her amber eyes looked wary.

“Okay, I get all that. Maybe it's just me, but I had the feeling back in the conference room that there was something going on between you and Edge.”

Sparkle showed her innocent face. “The conference room? Hmm. That's all a little hazy now.”

Gerry sighed. “You can tell me, or Edge can tell me. He's pretty up front about things. And I get the impression he'll blab all day if he thinks it'll tick you off.”

“No big deal. Just a little friendly wager.” She played with one dangly silver earring.

“Anything to do with Conall and me?”

“Sort of. I bet that I could hook up Conall and you before he could get Banan the wereshark and Destiny the shark hunter together. I'm doing better.” Sparkle looked thoughtful. “You guys have already done it once, right? Banan's batting zero so far.” She gripped her bottom lip between perfect white teeth and then released it. The wet shine was wasted on Gerry. “This room, and the new you, will blast Edge out of the water. He'll never catch up.”

Gerry hoped the steam coming from her ears didn't fog up any mirrors. Wait. No mirrors. “Well, the old me is throwing you out on your sexy ass.”

Sparkle widened her eyes. “
Moi?
Why would I want to leave when we haven't discussed makeup or cool clothes or—”

“Out.”

“Or the tree trunk. I—”

“How'd you know about the tree trunk?” Gerry revved her anger up another notch.