by Sandy James
Smoke rose from her hair, from her shoulders, from her breasts. She dropped her leg, turned her head and tried to step out of his embrace. He wouldn’t allow it. Her arms left his neck as she wiggled her now flaming hands between them, trying to push against him.
“Let me go,” she rasped in a shaky voice. “I’ll hurt you.”
“Stop. It’s all right, Megan.”
He’d never seen her look so frightened. Not of revenants. Not of demons. Not of rogue demigods.
“Trust me. Please.” Stroking her backside, pressing her against his groin, Johann overrode her resistance with another kiss. The burning hands that had been pushing hard against his chest were now clutching the tattered remains of his charred shirt in small fists. Smoke rose around those hands in wisps of white as bits of flame and sparks stung his chest, his hands and his face. There was no pain, only a heightened desire that made him nearly breathless to possess her. It was like every moment of his life had led him to this time, to this woman.
Enough! We’ll burn this place to the ground.
He had to call out to Freya or they would destroy the condo, if not the building. If this was going to happen between them—and by the Ancients, he hoped it was—he needed the goddess’s help.
With great effort, Johann pried his lips away. Megan’s were red and wet and begging for him to go right back to kissing her. Every inch of her skin glowed crimson, the flames hypnotic as her bra and panties were going up in smoke.
“Freya! Now!”
He felt no pain, but the flames flying from her were every bit as intense as the last time he’d set her ablaze. Knowing what he was doing to her made him smug. Just how high could he crank the heat?
He owed Apollo a bottle of the best whiskey he could lay his hands on.
A quick look around told him they were in Freya’s temple. The entire structure—walls, floors, ceiling and columns were marble. Megan could burn with the intensity of three-alarm fire and do nothing but scorch the hard stone. He pushed her gently until he’d backed her up against a wall.
Nothing else stood in their way. She’d burned the clothes off both of their bodies, and all he’d felt was a slight sting that actually fueled his longing. He’d more than meant what he said. He wanted to be inside her. Desperately. He wanted to pound into her until they both found release.
No matter how good he thought she would be she was better. Her taste was warm brandy. Her skin the smoothest silk with bursts of intense heat that heightened his pleasure. Her scent the familiar one he loved. He ran his hands over her shoulders, sliding down her arms until he interlaced their fingers. “I want to be inside you.”
“I’ll hurt you,” she said, her husky voice hitting him like a jolt of electricity. “I’ll hurt you, Johann.”
“No, baby. You won’t.” He slipped his fingers behind her knee and dragged it slowly up the length of his thigh.
Megan’s gaze was full of fear—but also dark with desire. Her entire body was ablaze. The air around her radiated waves of heat—like watching the illusion of movement rise from a blacktop road on a hot summer day.
Megan rested her palms against Johann’s shoulders, feeling breathless as he rocked his naked body against her. How had he taken their clothes off without her noticing? The length of his erection slid across her core, sending delicious waves of want racing through her. She wasn’t burning him, but she was making him burn.
A strong hand stroked her naked breast, tweaking the nipple before he dropped his head to take the tip into his mouth. Flames shot from her hands, racing across his shoulders and back. He didn’t flinch. She moaned. He gave her an arrogant chuckle as he shifted to the other breast.
Pressing her back harder against the wall, he grabbed her other knee until her legs were both wrapped around his hips.
“Please,” she choked out between whimpers of need and panting breaths.
He entered her slowly, letting her savor the feel of his flesh joining with hers. The flames from her skin rose to a crescendo as he sank deep inside her. How they weren’t both consumed by the inferno was beyond her ability to understand. He stroked her body with his until she was clutching at his back, digging her fingernails into his shoulders.
The flames surrounding them were suddenly pulled back inside her body. The heat Johann inspired ripped through her as her orgasm rocked her so hard, her head reared back. She screamed. Why wasn’t the blaze consuming her?
A few hard thrusts, and he groaned and shuddered.
Sanity was slow to return, not that she welcomed sobering reality. What had just happened was so beyond anything she’d ever fantasized. She feared it would now be merely a cherished memory. She carefully put one foot and then the other on the floor, and their connection broke.
There was only one thing she could say.
“Where in the hell are we?”
Chapter Thirteen
“Freya sent us here. I think we’re in Folkvang.” Johann tried to keep his voice calm in the face of Megan’s anger. His body was still sated and thrumming from making love to her, and the last thing he wanted was to fight. He’d held out hope that once they expressed their passion, the friction between them would lessen.
As if.
Megan was—and would always be—Fire.
“Folkvang? We’re in Freya’s temple? What does she have to do with this? And where are my clothes?”
Standing nude in the middle of the great hall of Freya’s temple wasn’t exactly how he wanted to have this discussion. Her anger was already rising—Megan’s typical reaction to finding out she had been out of the loop about anything. She wasn’t going to like learning about how Johann’s skin had been saved by Apollo’s cloak, and she would surely resent Freya’s interference.
“You burned them off us. Remember? Right before we…” He cleared his throat, not entirely sure why he was embarrassed. Perhaps it was because they were both naked and vulnerable. “You know.”
“Why aren’t you burned?”
“Freya… She—um—fixed things.”
“Fixed things?”
“She brought me a gift from Apollo—a fireproof cloak. It bonded to my skin. You can’t burn me now.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Freya knew we wanted to…be together. She gave me the cloak so we could make love.”
That took the bluster right out of her. Well, a little of the bluster. Small sparks still jumped from Megan’s fingertips, but Johann wasn’t sure if they formed because she was embarrassed or angry.
“We’ve got to pretend it didn’t happen,” she announced. “That’s it. We’ll just pretend it never happened.”
Two teenaged girls came into the sanctuary. Heads bowed, they held folded white bundles. Feeling the need to cover his nudity in their presence, he grabbed one, shook it out and wrapped it around his hips. He took a step toward Megan, tripped over the material and barely caught himself before he fell flat on his face. He despised his own apprehension. He’d never felt so damned awkward.
Megan took the other bundle and nodded to the girls, taking their presence and her nakedness in stride. Giving the material a shake, she then made herself a toga as if she’d done so many times. The girls bowed then backed out of the enormous room.
Fire in a toga was the sexiest thing Johann had ever seen. Hair mussed. Cheeks pink. Lips still moist and swollen from his kisses. God, she was exquisite.
She was so beautiful, he had a hard time thinking straight. He’d have to choose his words carefully. This was one of those moments—a life-altering moment—where what was said and done would pave the way the future would travel. If he wanted that future to include Megan, he needed to walk a fine line.
“I love you,” he blurted out.
Oh yeah, that was subtle.
She turned on him
, eyes wide. “What did you say?”
He was too cowardly to repeat himself.
“Don’t ever say that to me! Ever!”
There wasn’t a chance to retort. Some invisible force hurtled him across the great hall. His bare feet skidded and squeaked across the cold floor while he struggled against hands he couldn’t see. Johann dropped his sheet right before his back slammed into a marble column.
Megan’s powers had increased as Freya had promised. He just hadn’t realized how much they would increase. She kept staring at him, eyes wide and frightened, looking as if she was going to be sick.
“Can I peel myself off this column now?” he asked, hoping to break the stilted tension.
With a blink of her eyes, the invisible hands released their hold.
He grabbed the sheet. Copying her toga, he draped the sheet over one shoulder and around his hips.
Megan hurried to him fast enough she tripped. Johann caught her and folded his arms around her. She didn’t try to break away. Instead, she surrendered her weight against him and put her cheek on his shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said in a ragged whisper. “I didn’t mean to…push you.”
“I know.” The emotional storm had passed. At least they were able to have a calm conversation now. “So you know you pushed me with your thoughts?”
She nodded and sighed, the sound so utterly feminine, his body leaped back to life.
His rising interest obviously didn’t go unnoticed. She pressed her body against his as she raised her chin and her mouth formed a surprised O.
* * *
Megan couldn’t believe Johann still wanted her. Not after what she’d just done—how she’d sent him flying across the room.
Since the moment she’d first laid eyes on him, she’d done nothing but cause him trouble and pain. The childish ruse she and Rebecca had played by switching identities. The severe burns he’d endured saving her from Sparks’s attempt to incinerate her. The fresh burns when things had gotten hot and heavy in her condo. Shit, he still had a bruise on his cheek where she’d hit him with her shoe. Now, she’d tossed him against the fucking wall.
The strength of the new power frightened her, especially since it came out of nowhere. How was she supposed to control it?
“How did it feel?” he asked, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
The warmth of his breath sent shivers of excitement racing through her. She wanted him again—as badly as his body seemed to want her.
Would she erupt in flames this time?
No.
Something told her that wouldn’t happen again, that she’d have more control. She would be able to channel the power in different ways, pleasurable ways.
Megan wanted him to make love to her again. In a bed. Like normal people. Images of Johann slowly lowering himself against her body hit her from every angle.
“How did it feel?” he asked again.
She’d lost her train of thought. Was he talking about the telekinesis or the sex? Surely he wasn’t asking whether she’d had an orgasm. She’d shouted his name so loudly, the sound was probably still echoing around parts of the cavernous temple.
“How did what feel?”
“Using your new power. You know, moving me with your mind.”
New power. Megan was having trouble wrapping her scrambled thoughts around that realization. She’d been angry when Johann had said the three words she had always longed to hear from him. But he couldn’t have meant them. It was simply what a man said after sex so a woman’s feelings didn’t get hurt. Then they never called again.
Her anger and hurt over his insincere declaration had swept through her brain and body, rapidly winding its way to her hands. As though it was the most natural thing in the whole world, she’d used those hands that wanted to push him in frustration to do exactly that without ever physically touching him.
But the power was stronger than she could have known, and he’d flown across the room before she could stop it from happening or ease the amount of force. Johann was lucky he’d collided with a smooth wall and not something that might have impaled him. A shudder ripped through her at that image. She might have hurt him yet again. That fear warred with some newfound excitement at what she could do.
“How did it feel, Megan?”
Using her new power felt invigorating. It felt liberating. It felt…wonderful. Not sure what to say, she shrugged.
Her Sentinel growled and took a step back, breaking their embrace. “I asked you a question, Amazon. You’ve got a new power, and it’s my job to teach you how to use it.”
“You aren’t surprised, are you? You knew I was getting this power?” She took a step back as well, needing some distance so she could think.
It was his turn to shrug. The only way they seemed to communicate—other than shouting or kissing—was to either shrug or glare. Johann had chosen shrug, but Megan was choosing glare.
“How did you know?” she demanded.
“I told him.”
Freya came striding into the Great Hall, six handmaidens in sky-blue robes following in her wake. Dressed in a sable trimmed dress close to the same color as her white-blond hair, she smiled at them with the mischief Megan was so accustomed to seeing. The goddess was up to something. Yet again.
“’Tis why I brought him Apollo’s gift.”
“The fireproof cloak,” Megan said.
“Aye,” Freya replied with a nod. “The second skin. Now the Sentinel cannot be burned by your passion.” A naughty grin played across her beautiful face as her gaze settled on the black soot covering the wall where they’d consummated that passion. “I see it burned quite hot.”
Two handmaidens giggled until Freya shot a scowl their way.
Megan’s mind shifted between being embarrassed and wanting to thoroughly explore the extent of his new fireproof status.
“Ah, but I see I have caused you embarrassment.” The goddess sighed. “I shall never understand the reticence of humans to explore the lengths of your sexuality.” She glanced at Johann and smirked.
The Sentinel blushed.
“Do we have to talk about this?” Megan asked.
Her making love with Johann shouldn’t be fodder for temple gossip. Of course she was assuming half the temple hadn’t watched them. It wasn’t like the place was horribly private. She wanted to leave, needing some time alone to process all that had happened. Johann’s declaration of love still echoed in her mind. Images of what had happened between them flashed through her thoughts.
Then she heard another voice. A familiar one that frightened her. “You are mine, dorogoy. You belong to me.”
“Leave me alone!” She pressed her hands against her ears, trying to drown out Maksim Popov’s voice. “Get out of my head!”
* * *
Johann didn’t understand the sudden change in Megan. Fire turned to ice as the color drained from her face. She trembled and closed her eyes, holding her hands over her ears. “Megan? Are you okay?”
As she shook her head, her red hair began to change, slowly darkening. Black spread down the long strands, moving from the crown of her head to the ends, so dark it shone purple in the light. She stumbled back. “I can’t—I can’t make it stop.”
Freya frowned but didn’t move to help her. The goddess had clearly expected this.
Hands curled as her nails became curved claws and her palms changed to soft feline pads. She bared her teeth with a snarl to show white fangs slowly growing from her teeth. Her eyes went from round to almond and blue to yellow. She dropped to her knees, then put her hands against the floor. The black fur spread over her body and he watched the woman he loved transform into a black panther.
Good God, what’s going on here?
The animal roared and padded slo
wly toward Freya.
The goddess ran her hand down the panther’s back—Megan’s back—stroking her like some enormous house cat. “’Twould seem her powers have truly grown. Now she is able to become more than a simple hawk.”
He glared at Freya. How could she not warn them this would happen?
“This doesn’t worry you?” he asked.
“Nay,” she said, petting the enormous cat. Megan’s low purr filled the air, and she rubbed against Freya’s legs like a pet wanting to be fed. “I am quite proud of how quickly she is mastering her transformations. When she is well practiced, she can be anything. Or perhaps anyone. Aye, my Megan is truly gifted.”
After slinking toward Johann, Megan stopped and growled before rising on her back legs to put her front paws against his chest. He had to fight the inclination to push her away, both out of concern for what she’d become and the startling weight of the sleek cat.
Another transformation shimmered through her body. Claws retracted. Fangs shrank. The panther’s face slowly became the face of Megan Feurer. Her eyes were shut, a frown fixed on her mouth. Had the change been painful?
But she still wasn’t quite herself. Her black hair hadn’t returned to red but was swiftly bleaching to the same white-blond as Freya’s.
He reached out to grab a long lock. “What’s happening?”
“I—I don’t—know.”
As she opened her eyes and looked up at him, Johann blinked in disbelief.
The same blue eyes. The same oval face. The same pert nose—albeit Megan’s had an attractive spray of freckles that gave her face warmth…
He’d never made the connection before. Not until her hair had changed to blond. He couldn’t possibly be seeing what he thought he was seeing. Yet there was no denying the startling resemblance.
Why in the hell hadn’t he noticed any of this before?
Everything suddenly made sense. The jeweled swords. The Mercedes. The expensive condo. Those toys were to be expected. The absolution for Megan’s faults wasn’t. Freya had never shown a forgiving nature. When Helen had turned rogue, Freya was the first one to call for her head on a platter and mean it literally. Yet the goddess had pardoned each and every one of Megan’s missteps, insisting she’d meant well.
