by Ann Macela
Surely, these experienced practitioners would be able to handle Bruce Ubell and his piece of the Cataclysm Stone. Jim’s fears would prove groundless. She just knew it.
The poor man had been through so much. How her heart went out to him for the loss of his entire family. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel in his circumstances—probably hardly able to function. He’d held all his grief in, of course. She saw the proof in the difficulty he had telling her the story. Today was probably the first time he’d cried in a long time—if he had let himself cry at all when it happened.
If it hadn’t been for Charity’s death and his search for the drug suppliers, she might not have met him at all. No. She squashed that horrible thought. The soul-mate imperative was at work here. It would somehow have brought him to her, no matter what the previous events.
Besides, he was alone no longer. He had her now. In fact, he had her whole family, if he stopped to think about it. They’d already welcomed him with open arms—although he might not think so from her mother’s interrogation. When the current mess was over, they’d have the chance to get to know each other. Dad already liked Jim, she could tell. Did Jim realize it? She made a mental note to emphasize their togetherness—she was learning her “obvious” and his were often two different animals.
Her soul mate did have a strong overprotective streak, though. She understood where it came from, but he had to stop blaming himself or taking on the responsibility for those tragedies.
What was all his nonsense about not being able to help her? They’d proved he could. Men could be such wrong-headed thinkers at times.
He hadn’t mentioned his hunches again, even though she knew he was still having them. His aura remained a faint blue. Yes, she found them disturbing also, if too vague to take action. He was simply feeling the effects of Ubell’s using his Stone and those horrible dreams, and his hunches were coming from that.
Well, until he became sure of their meaning, she could do nothing. Besides, she had a bunch of other problems to think about—like learning how to use her upgraded powers for the battle to come.
When they destroyed the Stone, of course she’d be there, with him right behind her supplying energy. The shoe would be on the other foot then—she’d be protecting him. After the difficult episode with Finster’s Stone, all the Swords and half the Defenders in the country would be there, too. Nobody was going to get hurt.
Irenee snuck a look at her soul mate sitting next to her. Her soul mate! The thought was still mind-boggling. The reality even more awesome. All the love scenes in all the romance novels she and her friends read in high school? Put together they didn’t come close to the true experience. How could they? She had the soul-mate phenomenon and a truly magical connection on her side. Simply the thought of making love again tonight was enough to get her blood flowing.
Jim glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, turned to wink, and whispered, “Later.”
She coughed and hid behind her napkin. She was sure she’d turned the color of the tomatoes in the salad. Was he reading her mind now?
She composed herself when Fergus clinked his spoon against his glass to get everyone’s attention. Thank goodness, Fergus was to her other side so she didn’t have to look past Jim to see the head of the table. The man, in even an unfocused glimpse, was a distraction to her thought processes.
After reporting on the meeting at the Finster mansion, Fergus said, “In light of Ubell’s intransigence, we must use other means to obtain his part of the Cataclysm Stone. We’ll begin with the legal. After we finish here, Rachel, Miriam, and I will fly to Washington tonight to meet with both councils tomorrow. We have already ordered the legal masters to find every precedent that would compel a search of the property.”
“From past experience with these items,” Miriam stated, “we know Ubell will not abandon his, nor will he ever be physically far from it. The object is in the Finster mansion. He won’t leave without it. Conversely, we don’t want him to leave and take the Stone out of its shielding, even though it would give us actionable proof of its existence. The Stone might precipitate a fight in the open—a situation to be avoided if possible.”
“It’s too bad,” Rachel added thoughtfully, “we went after the first Stone clandestinely. A direct confrontation with Alton Finster under council warrants would have put us in the house and automatically given us search rights.”
“We followed proper procedure, but I do understand the attraction of putting the question to him in person,” John said. “You, however, didn’t take part in the struggle with the smaller remnant. In the light of that battle, I would have hated to face Finster’s piece, in the hands of its possessor, opposing its confiscation. We could have burned the house down, at the very least, and a worst-case scenario would have involved both Finster and Ubell and their Stones fighting us.”
“What do you mean?” Jim interjected.
“Destroying an item by itself is difficult enough,” Fergus answered. “Battling a practitioner wielding the item from within a pentagon fortress, using it to focus offensive and defensive spells, is a long, dangerous, nasty fight. You saw Irenee’s test. Multiply it by ten or twenty, throw in our blades and their energy beams, and you’ll have an idea of the possible damage.”
“I’m going to make some calls tonight,” John said, “to put other teams and unaffillated Swords and Defenders around the country on standby. Ubell’s larger Stone will be stronger than its smaller third. Once we have our hands on it, we’ll need every ounce of firepower we can get, and in very short order.”
After John’s statement, the discussion changed to revolve around tactics—which depended on the type of precedents they found and the strength of the orders from either council. Irenee listened carefully to the experts. She’d need every bit of knowledge when they faced the Stone.
“Oh, damn, my phone,” Jim whispered, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. After he looked at the caller ID, he excused himself to take the call out in the hall. When he returned, he had a grim look on his face, and Irenee’s center vibrated in a way she hadn’t felt before. Was it anger? Or trepidation?
“Folks,” Jim said into a break in the conversation, “I have some news of another kind. Ubell’s revved up his drug business again. A lieutenant of one of the biggest dealers paid a visit to the Finster mansion late this afternoon after your visit. Drugs have already appeared for sale on the street—by the truckload. Ubell’s wasting no time making up his losses. I have to report to my headquarters tomorrow morning.”
An icicle of apprehension ran down Irenee’s back, and her center quivered again. He wasn’t going to stay with her in the safety of the HeatherRidge.
“Any ideas what brought on his activity at this particular moment?” John asked.
“Several possibilities from my task force, but nothing definitive,” Jim answered. “Could be Ubell got tired of not making money. The pent-up demand created by withholding his merchandise raised prices, so he stands to make a bigger profit. Could be pressure from upstream, if more inventory is headed here and can’t be stopped, and the warehouses are full. Could be he has some big bills due or his distributors are unhappy. Or ... my idea, because it’s happening so soon after your meeting, he could be sending a message he can do what he wants and you can’t touch him.”
“Isn’t your last reason a little far-fetched?” Miriam asked. “We’re not involved with the drug business or law enforcement.”
Jim shrugged. “Anything’s possible here.”
“I agree,” John stated. “The Stone’s influence could certainly have warped Ubell’s reasoning.”
“Jim, keep us apprised of events on your end. Ubell’s drug business is out of our jurisdiction. His preoccupation with it may work for us, however,” Fergus said. “If he uses the Stone to enhance his dealings, he may trigger our sensitives to pinpoint its location. In the meantime, I suggest everyone use the lull to clear calendars and finish outstanding tasks at
your regular jobs. Get some rest. We’ll need to move fast and in full strength when we get the go-ahead from the councils.” He rose and walked around the table. “The rest of you keep on with the contingency plans. Jim, Irenee, let’s talk in the hall for a minute.”
Once in the hall, Fergus came straight to the point, “Do you want a Sword for a shadow, Jim?”
“No,” Jim answered. “I have no way to explain one, and if I’m with another agent, or worse, an informant, and he notices somebody tailing me, it will cause even more problems. By the way, our surveillance people noted your visit and are making nothing of it at the moment. You looked like normal business traffic.”
“What if—” Irenee started to say.
Using his cop voice, he cut her off. “No, honey, you can’t come, either.”
“That wasn’t what I was going to say” She folded her arms over her chest. Well, maybe she was going to suggest it, but she had another idea, too. “What if you call in on a regular timetable? Then we’ll know where you are.”
“I’m sure I’m going to be stuck in a planning meeting or trying to contact informants most of the morning. If I leave the building, I’ll phone. Oh, and don’t call me either, not unless it’s vital.”
As though she’d bug him at work. She knew better. He had his stubborn cop look again, so she said only, “Okay.”
“John will be here if you need help while we’re gone.” Fergus pulled a card out of his pocket and wrote on it. “Here are both my and John’s cell numbers. Will you be back tomorrow night, even if it’s only to sleep?”
“I don’t really know. It depends on what Ubell’s up to. My boss did say the accountants and computer techs got nowhere with the info from Finster’s safe. Some even higher-powered techies are looking at it now, trying to hack Ubell’s programming. Let me ask you something I’ve wondered about. Suppose you do take Ubell out. Destroy the Stone. What happens to the financial info and everything he’s set up by magic?”
Good question, Irenee thought and turned to Fergus for an answer.
“Hmmm.” Fergus stroked his beard and looked off into the distance for a few seconds. “As you know, for a spell to be ongoing, it has to have energy from somewhere. For example, if you don’t supply it to your lightball, it goes out.”
“Yeah, I’m learning ‘maintenance,’ as Johanna puts it.”
“In this particular case, I would think the maintenance must be coming from the Stone, and it, not Ubell or Finster before him, has been supplying the spelled computer programs. It definitely has the range. If so, when we destroy the Stone, we stop the supply, and the programs lose their enchantment. Your accountants should have no trouble with them.”
“Okay,” Jim said with a smile. “I hope you get both him and his Stone soon.”
“You two get some rest,” Fergus said. He nodded toward the conference room. “There’s no need for you to stay. The bunch in there will argue every possible scenario, but we can’t come to a real plan until we hear what the legal masters and both councils say”
“Sounds good to me,” Jim said. “I hate those kind of meetings. Let’s go, honey”
Irenee was about to protest—she wanted to hear what the scenarios were. She might need them in the future. Then Jim looked at her, took her hand, and said, “It’s ‘later.”’
If she said good-bye to Fergus, she didn’t remember it. Jim’s golden-green gaze sent excitement skittering up her backbone, and his touch warmed her to the core. Other parts of her body came alert, too. She practically raced him to the elevator.
Fortunately, no one else entered with them because, even before the door closed, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Exactly what she had in mind, so she kissed him back. By the time the car stopped on the fourth floor, she was practically climbing his body. They stumbled out into the hall, almost straight into another couple waiting to enter.
“Oh, sorry!” she managed to mumble.
Jim just grinned, and the guy—probably as old as Fergus!—grinned to match Jim’s and said, “Oh, we understand completely.”
Mortified, she dragged her soul mate down the hall.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Once inside her condo, Jim pulled Irenee into his arms and took up where they left off. Her embarrassment went out the window in the heat of his embrace and the fire in his kisses. They left a trail of shirts, her bra, and her shoes in the short hall and fell onto the bed. After rolling back and forth in a tangle of limbs, she managed to land on top and straddle his thighs.
“Wait, wait,” Jim gasped and captured her hands when she attacked his belt buckle.
“Why, why?” she asked, laughing and stretching their arms to each side, which had the effect of bringing them chest to chest.
“Because,” he said, letting go of her hands, flipping her over, and making himself comfortable between her legs, “I want to take this slow. We might not see each other for days, and I want something to remember you by.”
She was still pushing at his shoulders and trying to figure out how he’d managed to put her on the bottom so effortlessly when the meaning of his statement hit. She stopped struggling. “Oh.”
“Oh,” he repeated and kissed her softly, leisurely, like they had all the time in the world. From her mouth, he worked his way slowly down her neck to her breasts, where he fondled one while he licked and suckled the other.
She luxuriated in his touch while her body warmed and tingled—her usual response to him, she realized.
They’d made love, she couldn’t remember how many times since yesterday. Yesterday? Yes, it was only last night they’d truly become soul mates. Their first mating had been glorious, but ... this time felt different, somehow. Less hurried, less stressful, more sure.
As in all the others, her blood was singing through her veins, and his hands and his lips were causing sparks to excite her entire system.
But ... this time, all her senses were heightened. All sensations more intense, more alluring, more . . .
The smell of him, his lemon-lime shaving cream, his shampoo, himself. She took a deeper breath.
The feel of him when she slid her hands over his skin. Rough in places, smooth in others. His hard muscles bunching, relaxing. The puckered slash he’d told her had come from “an idiot with a machete who thought he was a pirate.” The silky curls in his hair that gave him a boyish look at times and that she loved to twine around her fingers. His morning whiskers scratchy on her lips; his smooth cheek now after his shave. All she could reach right now were his hair, back, and shoulders. It would do—for the moment.
She didn’t have to open her eyes to see him. She had him memorized, from the top of his brown hair to the golden green in his eyes to his firm lips, to his strong jaw. Down to his broad shoulders, down to the smattering of dark hair on his chest arrowing to his sex, down to his long legs to his feet ... and back up.
All she could hear were her occasional moans and the slight creak of the bed. That was okay. She knew the sound of his deep voice, could pick it out from a crowd, and loved to hear him say her name.
His taste. Salty, sweet, like no other. His kisses possessed her.
Then there was his touch on her—of his lips, of his tongue, of his hands. If his kisses were passionate, his touch possessed, claimed, enticed, excited.
She couldn’t get enough of him. Now or ever.
She opened her eyes when he kissed his way to her navel. She still had her long suit pants on, but so did he. She slid her hand to her buckle, and he stopped her from unfastening it. He glanced up, gave her navel a little kiss, and murmured, “I’ll get there, honey.”
She squirmed, groaned, “Faster.” He only kissed his way back up to her breasts and played there a while, until her nerves were sparking, and she was arching into him.
Finally, finally, he undid her buckle, lowered her zipper, and slid her pants and panties down her legs and off. Standing quickly, he stripped off his own clothes.
He held still for a coup
le of seconds at the foot of the bed, simply looking at her. Before she could demand, or ask, or beg him to come into her arms, he leaned over and started kissing his way back up her legs, climbing on the bed as he did so.
If his previous touches and kisses had aroused, these caresses inflamed and enthralled. When he finally kissed her most intimately, she quivered all over. When he licked and sucked her most sensitive spot, she began to writhe, then moan. Sparks began racing through her, and every muscle tightened, to the point of pain. Tension built and built, and she thought she would burst. She grabbed the bedspread for an anchor in the storm and pressed herself into his mouth. Ecstatic release came with her cry, “Jim!”
She was still shaking when he moved swiftly up, drawing her legs around him.
“Open your eyes, Irenee,” he said in a low voice that sent more sparks through her center.
She did, to look right into his. The golden green was darkened, his expression serious, his skin pulled taut on his face. Her laughing lover had become passion personified.
He was poised at her entrance, braced over her on his arms. “Touch my center.”
When she did, he balanced himself on one arm and placed his palm right over her breastbone. Slowly, oh, so slowly, he pushed into her. She raised her hips to accept him, glorying in the connection, the possession, the becoming one.
When he was totally inside her, he lowered his face close to hers and stared into her eyes. His voice was raspy when he declared, “No matter what happens, I’m yours, and you’re mine, and we will belong to each other forever. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
His words thrilled her to the core and inexplicably made her want to cry at the same time. All she could whisper was, “Oh, Jim, yes,” before he was kissing her, obliterating all thought.
Magic energy, more powerful than ever before, began to swirl through their linked bodies. Stronger and stronger, as their heartbeats increased. Faster and faster, as they began to move.
