by Sandy James
He dropped his sword. Grabbing the fire extinguisher from the floor, he popped the pin and sprayed the wall. Then he threw the canister aside and sat on the bed next to her. She was still asleep, and although her screams had subsided, she whimpered in fear.
“Wake up, Megan.” Holding her upper arms, he gave her a gentle shake. “C’mon, baby. Wake up. It’s just a dream.”
Her eyes flew open as she grabbed his forearms with the grip of the warrior she truly was. “Don’t let him have me. Please don’t let him have me. I—I can’t fight back. I can’t move.”
Pulling her to sit up, he soothed her with calm words and gentle pats. She trembled, so he wrapped his arms around her, pushed her head to his chest and stroked her hair. His gaze strayed to her pillow. Black marks marred the linen, but at least it wasn’t smoldering.
He’d noticed her skin was no longer red, yet it was hot. Sizzling hot. Instead of causing pain, the contact excited him, adding a bit of danger to their connection. She felt wonderful in his arms.
“It’s all right now,” he said, trying to pacify her but wanting nothing more than to lay her back down and make love to her. Thanks to Freya’s visit, it was all he could think about, and it would probably continue to be all he would think of until the burning passion was consummated. “Everything’s all right. No one will hurt you. Not while I’m here.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and nodded against his chest. “You’ll protect me.” Her voice trembled. “You did before. You saved me, Johann.” She squeezed tighter. “I’m safe with you.”
He knew she wasn’t entirely awake or she wouldn’t have been so open and honest with her thoughts. “Yeah, baby. You’re safe with me.”
“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Please?”
The room was thick with smoke and the remnants of the haze from the fire extinguisher. It would be better for both of them to be someplace with cleaner air. He flipped the switch on the big air-purifying machine next to her bed, hoping it would remove the lingering stench. Then he stood, scooped Megan into his arms and carried her out of the bedroom.
“Where are we going?” She laid her head against his shoulder and threaded her arms around his neck.
Her passive acceptance of him holding her so close was a pleasant surprise. He rubbed his chin against her soft hair. “My room. We can sleep in there tonight.”
He set her on his bed, suddenly aware she was dressed in nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties. Fire shot to his groin.
Megan scooted over, looking up at him with a note of trepidation in her eyes. He hesitated, unsure if her apprehension was caused by her wanting him to stay or hoping he would leave her in peace. She patted the mattress next to her, solving his dilemma.
Sitting up to lean against the oaken headboard, he waited, a bit amazed, while she snuggled up next to him, laying her head against his bare shoulder and splaying her hand over his chest. Damn, having her next to him felt so right, so perfect. Her skin was still hot. He kissed the top of her hair, taking in the sweet cherry-tobacco smell lingering there, a scent he’d learned to love.
Johann stroked her upper arm with his fingertips. “Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”
“Some of it.”
He waited for her to expound on her answer. She didn’t. “Megan?”
“It was nothing. Just forget it, okay?”
“No, I won’t forget it. Something set you off. If I hadn’t been here, you could have started a fire.”
Megan sighed. “I know. I just… You’ll think I’m…weak.”
This, he understood. She didn’t want anyone to know she wasn’t invincible. “There’s not a damn thing weak about you. Fire’s the strongest Amazon.”
She glanced up at him, her beautiful blue eyes holding him captive. “You think I’m strongest? Stronger than Rebecca?”
He nodded. “Tell me about the dream.”
“It was just a silly nightmare.” He wasn’t surprised when she settled back against him and quickly turned the topic. “How did you heal your hands? Do Sentinels have some powers I don’t know about?” She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder as she ran her fingers through the small patch of hair on his chest.
The endearing actions made his body tighten in need, and it wasn’t as if his boxers left a lot to the imagination. If she noticed his erection, she was tactful enough not to make comment.
“Freya was here,” he replied. “She healed the burns.”
Should he tell her about his new ability—about the full-body fireproofing treatment Freya had given him?
Megan sat up. “Freya was here? When?”
“After you went to your room.”
“And she didn’t want to see me?” She sounded sad.
“Not this time.”
“I don’t understand. Why was she here if she didn’t want to see me?”
Here was the perfect opportunity.
He could be honest with her and tell her about how they could make love now. He should explain that when they came together, her powers would increase and she’d regain control over them so he wouldn’t have to take them away. “Sentinel business.”
Big fat fucking coward.
* * *
Megan let Johann off easily. He had, after all, let the touchy subject of her nightmare drop. She didn’t want to tell him she’d been helpless in the dream. That was all it was. A silly dream.
She laid her head against his bare skin. Having him close was such a luxury, she wouldn’t say or do anything to drive a wedge between them. He smelled so good, she had to resist the urge to sniff him like some bloodhound. Not a scent she could put a name to, but the same one that lit her fire when they’d danced. The warmth his skin gave off rivaled her own.
She let her fingertips caress his chest, stroking those taut muscles and that small patch of pale, crisp hair she adored. Intoxicated by the contact, she needed to touch more of him, needed—to touch all of him.
Siding her hand toward his flat belly, she wondered how long he’d let her play. Petting him was such pleasure, such heaven, she couldn’t help but react. Small static shocks popped from her fingertips.
Shit.
Remembering what had happened the last time he’d excited her, she jerked her hand back.
Before she moved it very far, his calloused hand covered hers and pushed her palm flat against his washboard abs. “It’s fine, baby.”
His deep voice calmed her as it sent heat pooling between her legs, but she’d already hurt him once. Megan tried to take her hand away again.
Johann pressed it down harder.
“But I’ll burn you.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I won’t?” That would be a dream come true.
“You won’t. Let’s get some sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us. We’re going to see Popov, remember?” He gave the back of her hand a reassuring stroke, leaned his head against the headboard and closed his eyes. He never bothered explaining the enigmatic comment.
Remember? How could she forget? The man was haunting both her waking hours and her sleep. “What do you mean ‘we’? He asked me to come to him.”
He gave a cynical snort. “Like I’d let you go alone.”
The Amazon in her flared to life. Her hand fisted under his. “You don’t think I can take care of myself?”
“Didn’t say that.”
She took a long, ragged breath, trying to hold her temper. Her life had deteriorated into nothing but a ridiculous emotional rollercoaster. Desire. Anger. Longing. Irritation. Love. And—
Love?
Love!
Her whole body stiffened. She tried to pull her hand away again. This was a hell of a lot more than she’d bargained for.
Squeezing her clenched hand, h
e opened his eyes.
I’m in love with you. How about that, Joeman? I’m actually in fucking love with you!
She couldn’t possibly say it aloud, doubting she could ever admit something like that to him. Especially since it had been so damned hard to admit to herself. Besides, he was her Sentinel. He couldn’t return her feelings. Feeling the heat spread over her hand, she tugged it out of his grasp before she hurt him. Again.
Rolling away, she hugged the edge of the mattress and stared at the baby blue wall, wondering if she would set it on fire too. Her frenzy of emotions refused to abate. She fisted her hands against her chest in hopes the sparks would stop before she caused any damage to another room of her home.
Johann’s body pressed against her back. His hand snaked under her arm to rest against her waist. With a gentle pull, he dragged her closer. Chest to back. Thigh to thigh.
Their bodies fit perfectly, like they were made for one another.
His breath tickled against her neck. “Trust me. Everything will be fine, Megan.” His lips brushed her ear.
She was tired enough her eyes wanted to cross, but she couldn’t surrender to sleep. The moment was too intimate, too ripe with possibilities. “Johann?”
“Hmm?”
“I was wondering… How did you become a Sentinel? I mean, I was born to this. Why would you choose this kind of life?”
She’d been dying of curiosity ever since he’d mentioned his sister, Janelle. Sentinels had to call for the Lady of the Lake to help them, that much Megan knew. But she wanted particulars. She wanted to know all there was to know about Johann Herrmann.
Artair had never told her his own story of reaching out to Rhiannon, but Rebecca had shared it with her Amazon sisters. Artair’s only brother Darian, the man Artair named his son after, had been slaughtered in a battle. Artair had cried out to Rhiannon, grieving for his fallen brother. The goddess restored Darian’s life and took Artair’s pledge to serve her in return.
What exactly did Johann owe to Rhiannon?
Johann’s only response was the gentle whoosh of his breath.
“Joeman?”
He sighed hard enough to part her hair. “My sister was dying.”
She waited for the rest of the explanation. It didn’t come.
“And?”
“I was just back from Iraq.”
She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “Iraq? You were in Iraq?”
“Yeah. I was in the Army. But I was home—probably for good. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. I was thinking about more college or looking for a job, but I hadn’t decided. Mom and Dad took Janelle and me out to eat for her birthday. Some bastard drunk driver hit our car on the way home.”
“Oh, Johann…” Megan caressed the arm he’d wrapped around her waist.
He pulled her closer and nuzzled her hair.
“I’m so sorry. How did Rhiannon get into the picture?”
“After I crawled out of the wreckage, I saw Mom and Dad were already…gone. I scrambled over to my sister. Janelle’s back was broken. She wasn’t going to make it. If she did, she’d never be whole again. I was—I don’t know—angry. I was helpless. So I screamed for help and I didn’t care who the hell gave it. I don’t even remember what I said, but it got Rhiannon’s attention.” He dragged in a ragged breath.
She tried to turn to face him, but he anchored her with that heavily muscled arm, holding her in place. “Did you know about Rhiannon—that she was a goddess?”
“No. I just wanted to save Janelle.”
“So what happened?”
“Everything just…slowed down. Like some movie in slow motion. Then everyone and everything froze. Except for me. Rhiannon popped up and said she could help me save my sister. For a price.”
Megan shivered. “Sounds like selling your soul to Satan.”
“Yeah, well—I was desperate enough I might’ve done that. Rhiannon said she’d help Janelle if I’d serve her. She called me a warrior and said I could train other warriors, but I’d have to leave my old life behind. No one would remember me. She’d wipe their memories of me right out of their minds. In return, she promised she’d save Janelle and fix her body. I didn’t have to think twice.”
“Did you know what you were promising?”
How could he? Johann had been pledging an immortal lifetime of training Amazons and fighting at their sides. How could he have possibly known all a Sentinel’s oath entailed?
“No, I really didn’t,” he replied. “But I’ve never regretted it.”
“You miss her,” she whispered, feeling his heartache as if it was her own. He’d given up his future to save his sister, knowing he could never see her enjoying the life he’d handed back to her. Johann was a man beyond compare. Body, heart and soul. “Do you ever go see her?”
“She wouldn’t even know me.” His temper was rising, judging from his clipped words.
“Yeah, but I figured you’d keep an eye on her. Where does Janelle live?”
“Not far from here. With her husband.”
So he had been keeping track of her.
Megan waited a long while for more of the story, but Johann didn’t say another word. Judging from the steady, deep breaths brushing her neck, he’d fallen asleep.
After the trying evening, her strength ebbed. Sleep drugged her, making her limbs feel heavy and her mind dull as she relaxed in his embrace. The dreams she had dismissed as unimportant started immediately.
“Dorogoy,” Maksim Popov’s voice echoed through her foggy thoughts. “Come to me. We shall be together forever. You are mine.”
His image came through the haze until he stood only a few feet away. He beckoned to her. But this time, when Max crooked his finger, she stood firm.
Another voice filled her mind. A voice that thrilled her senses. A voice that flooded her with strength. “No, Megan. No, baby. I’ll help you. Come to me instead.”
She turned to see Johann, standing to the side, arms spread wide in welcome.
“No! She is mine. Megan Feurer! Come to me!” Max shouted the harsh command, his voice reaching like smoky wisps through her mind, turning into chains she couldn’t break. “You will come to me. You were meant for me. You were created for me.”
Max crooked his finger again, and Megan found herself stumbling toward him, helpless to stop. Sending frantic glances to the side, she searched for Johann.
“When he knows what you truly are, he will want you no longer. He could never accept the part of you that is hidden. I rejoice in it. Come to me. You belong to me.”
Johann grew hazy.
Megan wanted to scream at him, to beg him to stay and save her from Max. “Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t leave me.”
Right before he disappeared, Johann did something that turned her blood to ice water.
He turned his back on her.
Chapter Twelve
“I don’t like this.” Johann kept staring holes through Maksim Popov’s personal assistant.
Megan hadn’t wanted to hear Max sing, but she sure didn’t tell Johann it was because the man frightened the shit out of her. She might be able to face Max again, but she wasn’t about to listen to any of his songs.
What if they got stuck in her head?
No, the disturbing man was already too close to her thoughts.
They hadn’t arrived until the concertgoers were exiting. They’d been admitted through the Paramount Theater rear stage door. When she’d asked about Max, a person with a clipboard found her name on the top of a very short list. Johann’s name wasn’t there, and she’d argued with the guy at the door until he gave in, grunted and pointed out the singer’s assistant. After introducing herself and Johann to Sergei, they’d followed him through the backstage corridors.
/> Dressed entirely in black, the man was as dark-skinned as Max. His long, ebony hair brushed his shoulders, and his dark eyes seemed to take in everything while revealing nothing. He’d known they were coming and had taken them directly to Max’s dressing room.
Now, Sergei was talking to someone—probably the singer himself—through the partially open door.
“I don’t want you meeting him alone,” Johann said with too much parental scolding in his voice. He didn’t even both whispering.
Megan’s mental guards snapped into place. Johann had been hovering since the day he’d arrived. “Don’t be absurd. I’m an Amazon, I can handle Maksim Popov.”
Not sure whether she believed what she claimed, she held her head high, determined she wouldn’t show Johann any of her fear.
Damn, I need a cigarette.
The nightmares of Max had been so vivid, she was having a hard time believing he hadn’t locked her into some sort of telekinetic link, like the one she had with her Amazon sisters—especially Rebecca.
Fire. I am Fire.
Johann gave his head a stubborn shake. “I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not. I can handle this. Really. He won’t open up if you’re there too.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“I just do.”
His incredulous scowl told her he didn’t believe her.
“Call it Amazon intuition, if you want. He’s been flirting with me. I want to use that to our advantage. Look, you can wait here. If I need you—and I won’t—I’ll call to you.”
Sergei came striding back down the short hallway. He stopped in front of Johann, who’d quickly put himself between Sergei and Megan. She grabbed Johann’s upper arm and pulled him back.
“Will he see me?” she asked.
“Da,” Sergei replied. “He will see you.” Sergei’s glare settled on Johann. “But not the man.”
Johann took a threatening step toward Sergei.
Megan hadn’t let go of Johann’s arm, so she tried to drag him back again. It was like trying to move a brick wall. She had no idea what had gotten into him. He wasn’t normally emotional—unless you counted the times someone played around with one of his gadgets. Or when she called him “Joeman.” She’d seen him plenty pissed off then.
