St. Nicholas nodded his own recognition. The old fae focused on Gennie, making Excalibur pull her closer into his protection. “Merle left a message for you. He wanted me to tell you that he'd drop by later to get that thing you were taking care of for him."
In Excalibur's arms, Gennie shivered. “What thing?"
Nicholas shrugged. His eyes met Excalibur's in sympathy. “He didn't say what, exactly. Only that you'd have it with you."
Excalibur didn't want the damned fae's sympathy. For the first time in his existence, he resented being referred to as an ‘it'. The ridiculous emotion caused him to drop his arms from around Gennie.
She deserved more than the pain fate decreed he leave her with.
"Gennie!” Stevie trotted in from the kitchen. His round face pinched with anxiety. “Ben turned over the punch bowl. The presents are getting wet."
She rose on her toes, placing a fast kiss on Cal's cheek. “Be good. I'll be right back."
Alone in the hall, the men dropped the pretence of merriment.
St. Nicholas sized Cal up and down.
Cal returned the favour.
"So the tale is true. The legendary Caliburn is remade again, and walks as a man."
"For now."
The fae frowned, his gaze turned in the direction of the living room. “And what of Gennie, once you return to your true form?"
A flare of anger pulsed through Cal. His fist clenched at his side. Though he'd like to thrash the other man, Cal realised that his anger stemmed from the helplessness of his situation. He didn't like having his failure pointed out to him. “Genevieve is none of your concern."
St. Nicholas crossed his arms over the prominent padding of his stomach. “Yes, she is. I don't like seeing my friends hurt. She's going to be devastated when you leave."
Cal struggled with the red haze of fury and jealousy that threatened to overtake him. He would not leave Genevieve of his own free will. If she accepted her legacy, he would still be nearby and aware of everything that happened to her. That part comforted and frustrated him most.
He wanted to pound all his frustration out on the other man. Of anyone, St. Nicholas, immortal and champion of mankind, would be able to take on the full force of his wrath. Unfair or not.
He took a deep breath, letting it out slow. Finally, when he regained control of his urges, Excalibur faced the other man. “I have tonight at least. Take good care of her after that, will you?"
"If my calculations are correct, you have another day and night."
"Perhaps.” The bright happy music from the living room drove the injustice of his situation home. He had to get away. Now. Turning, Excalibur dipped his chin respectfully. “Farewell, Nicholas of Myra."
"Merry Christmas, Caliburn."
Cal glanced back. He smiled though he did not feel it. “For you, yes."
As he walked away, the words of Saint Nicholas, patron of those in need, rang in his ears.
"Do not forget the power of faith, love, and mercy. All are formidable magic."
* * * *
Gennie found Cal outside, perched on the trunk of her car. His grim mood darkened the air around him. The intensity of his gaze burned her as he moved to take her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him, wanting never to let go. Gennie searched his face for a clue to his distress when he pulled back, cupping her face in his hands.
"Can we leave? Now?” Dark emotion simmered in his eyes.
She nodded. Protectiveness welled up in her. “Yes. Nick didn't say anything stupid, did he? Because I'll give him a piece of my mind."
Cal smiled. A little one, but real and full of emotion. “No. I just want to be alone with you."
Smiling, she tucked her head against his chest, inhaling the scent of him. The musky, manly scent reminded her of home. “I wish you could stay, like this. With me."
He kissed her forehead without answering, then let go to get in the car.
* * * *
Gennie's body burned with need. All during the drive to her apartment, Cal's light touches distracted her. Once he captured her hand, nibbling sucking on her fingers. In and out, his tongue darted between her fingers. She nearly crashed.
At the door, he pressed her up against cold steel surface. Hard and desperate, his kiss devoured her. Cal pulled away, taking the keys from her hand. Stealing another kiss, he unlocked the bolt. “I need you, Genevieve. I need to feel you around me. Now.” He kicked the door shut with the back of his heel.
They came together in a frantic clench, jerking clothes from each other. Neither cared where the garments landed.
"Here.” Gennie pulled him to the couch. “Bed's too far,” she gasped.
She groaned as the silver-grey fall of his hair blanketed her with an erotic silken coolness. Bare skin slid over bare skin. The hard satin slide of his erection against her wetness sent a shudder of anticipation through her body.
"Genevieve.” He stopped before the first stroke entered her body. The blunt head of his member barely touched her nether lips.
Gennie whimpered. She licked her lips, wiggling to get closer.
His hand on her hip stopped her from sliding up and over him.
Irritated, she focused on his face. Intense blue eyes stared into hers.
"I want to give you a gift."
"Give me anything you want, Cal. Just come inside me."
Closing his eyes at the demand, he complied. One thrust and he slid his fullness deep in her channel, holding her tight against him. Gennie clasped him tight with her inner muscles. God, he filled her completely, impaled by steel covered satin. He withdrew a fraction, his shoulders flexing under her hands, taking her breath away as he slammed home again. The sensation of magic lit her skin, pulsing in time to his powerful thrusts. In time to her pulse, he teased her with the promise of more.
"Trust me. Open up to the magic.” Cal's breath shivered over her skin. As his hand slid over the mound of her breast, gently tugging on her nipple, Gennie gave in. She embraced the magic dancing over her, pulling it inside to the centre of her being.
Before she could return the energy, Cal pumped into her, hard and deep. Power, the world, spilled into her as he yelled his pleasure. Orgasm locked her body around him, holding the essence of Cal to her spiritually and physically. Every small stroke sent aftershocks of delight. Magic swirled inside her.
Slumping hard against her, he eased away, one hand digging into the blanket draped over the back of the couch. He shifted to the corner, pulling her against his side.
Drugged, sated lassitude stole over Gennie. She pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder in a silent apology for a stray bite given in the heat of passion. “What happened?"
Cal squeezed her in his arms, pulling the soft decorator throw over them. “Your Christmas present. Sleep Genevieve. I will hold you until morning."
His words blurred as she drifted deeper into sleep. She barely felt the soft brush of his lips over her temple.
"Goodnight, my love."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Six
The feeling of wrongness prodded Gennie to wake. Dragging herself out of layers of sleep, she threw a searching arm out. Shivering, she curled back up naked under the throw.
"Cal?” Her breath plumed smoke in the icy apartment. A glance at the window showed the first fat snowflakes of winter falling in the early morning light.
Gennie grinned.
Instead of the usual cold rain and icy mud, they were having a real winter for Christmas. Perfect. The front should last a few days. She almost giggled at the thought of showing Cal snow.
The fast diminishing time prodded Gennie's guilt. She shouldn't have run out before Merle showed up last night. She should have at least tried calling again. Today, she'd track down the elusive wizard and get his help. However much removed, Merle was her grandfather and King Arthur's just counsel. She'd explain everything. Merle wouldn't let her down.
Instinct, the vulnerable feeling of being alone, made her
shift the throw tighter around her naked body. She shook her head, trying to banish the silliness.
"Cal? It's freezing. Want to make coffee while I turn on the heater?” She needed clothes and he was probably in the bathroom.
Gennie grinned.
The man did like his showers.
Padding her way to the bedroom, she found the bathroom cold, dry, and empty. No sexy blue-eyed man waited for her in the bedroom either. Gennie hunted down an old soft sweatsuit. Cal wasn't digging in the closet, discovering more of her high school memorabilia. Gennie's feet finally began to thaw inside the heavy wool hunting socks that she preferred over house shoes. In stocking feet, She walked back to the living room, intending to replace the throw.
Concern melded with the feeling of dread that woke her. He wouldn't go exploring outside without telling her. Since their first lovemaking, Cal had embraced his brief humanity. He shared every new discovery with her.
Gennie stopped.
A shine of metal peeked out from behind the couch cushions. Closer, the carved shape of metal became clearer. Numb, cold crept into her skin. The chill invaded her gut, froze her breath. Her thoughts fragmented into impressions.
The carved head of a blue-eyed dragon. The hilt of a sword. Excalibur, sword of legends. Arthur's sword Caliburn, remade by the fae Lady of the Lake.
Her life. Her love.
Gennie's hand trembled as she reached for the hilt. The hot wash of tears left her colder inside. He'd left her alone and lonely, one day early, on Christmas Day.
"Oh, Cal. What did you do?"
* * * *
Dull and intrusive, the thud of the front door broke her concentration.
She'd lost track of how long she'd sat in the dark, letting the steady blink of Christmas lights be her focus. Lead exhaustion filled her limbs from all her failed attempts to turn Cal human again.
In the back of her mind, Cal's relief came though the faint magical bond she'd established. That was the only spell the damned stubborn man would allow her.
Gennie refused to think of him as a sword.
The living room lights switched on, blinding her. She slapped a hand over her eyes in defence.
"Here she is!"
Her hand fell away. Squinting, her breath caught in her throat.
Cal, handsome in jeans and a baggy Dallas Cowboys sweat T-shirt knelt in front of her. Under a matching baseball cap, concern darkened light blue eyes.
Gennie frowned. She rubbed her forehead, trying to make sense of the confusion muddying her thoughts.
His light blond hair brushed his wide shoulders. One large hand, sporting a plain gold band, reached for her. “Hey there, poppet."
Not Cal.
Only two people ever called Gennie poppet. Arthur and Gwen were Americanised and modernised, yet still dropped hints of their homeland in their speech.
"Uncle Art?"
"Yep, it's your old uncle.” He squatted, bringing them face to face.
The almost identical resemblance washed another wave of grief over Gennie.
Arthur Pendragon swept her up like a child, one arm behind her back, the other supporting her numb legs.
"I can walk.” She wriggled uselessly.
"Not as blue as you are. It's freezing in here."
Gennie clenched the sword to her chest, away from her uncle. Her frozen fingers locked around the hilt and blade.
Arthur deposited her on the couch. Grabbing the throw, he tucked it around her, ignoring her small protests. Arthur fussed like the doting uncle he pretended to be. “My, but you've grown up. I guess I do lose track of time."
Like Merlin, Arthur was her great-something grandfather. Christmas, birthday cards, and forwarded email jokes let her know he sent his love. Arthur settled on the couch, holding her tight.
More footsteps and deep voices heralded the rest of the gang.
Feeling let down, she turned away from Merle. Her grandfather hadn't answered any of her desperate phone calls after Cal's transformation. She left messages on her parents’ machine and Nick's voicemail. Finally, she reached Aunt Gwen.
Gennie leaned away from her grandfather's touch.
"Oh, Gennie. If you'd waited for me at the party..."
A flare of anger warmed some of the chill that had taken up residence in her bones. “I wasn't going to let you take Cal away."
All eyes shifted to the wizard.
Merle's jaw dropped. His salt and pepper whiskers moved as he worked his jaw in amazed silence. “Why would you think that?"
Gennie looked at Nick.
The fair fae flushed as red as his sweater. He pointed a finger back at the wizard. “You said she'd know what you were after. I only relayed the message."
"For my cell phone!” Merle huffed out a breath and threw his hands up. “I needed to get my blasted phone. Nobody has a public phone anymore.” He stomped across the room and back.
She'd had his phone the entire time? Gennie remembered something about updating her grandfather's phone numbers. For an all powerful wizard, computerised gadgets baffled him.
Merle crossed his thin arms over his bony chest. Affront vied with hurt.
Nick and Arthur kept their mouths shut, engrossed in the unfolding drama.
"Young lady, I can't believe you would think that. I have been trying to get you to take that thing with you for years. Excalibur has been yours since you were seven."
"Cal is not a thing. He is alive and aware.” Her eyes blurred with tears. Her voice caught in a sob. Her knuckles turned white from her grip on the blade. “And I want him b-back."
"Poppet, let go of the blade.” Arthur's hands hovered in the air, as if he knew better than to touch what no longer belonged to him. “You know, it's kind of hard to wield a sword if you're missing a few fingers."
Gennie laughed, her tears running free again. She hated crying, but could not seem to stop. “He won't hurt me. And he won't let me change him back.” She let go of the hilt to take the tissue Nick offered. “I figured out the spell ... and he blocks my magic."
The fae leaned in, his hands behind his back. Critically, he examined the weapon. “It's true. Caliburn has dulled the blade. Man or weapon, he only wishes to protect you."
Nick straightened, casting a knowing eye on the wizard. After a moment, Merle, coughed. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but in Gennie's direction.
Deep in the back of her mind, she felt Cal shift too. Everyone seemed to be aware of the unspoken undercurrents except for her.
"Did I miss something?” Arthur stared from Gennie to the others. His eyes narrowed as the pieces of a puzzle dropped into place. “Ah. Well, that would explain some of my son's more recent insane ramblings.” He patted Gennie on the knee, well away from Excalibur. “Thank you, poppet, for sending Mordred to me.” Arthur winced. “Gwen thinks we need family counselling. Talk about your dysfunctional families. God help the shrink unlucky enough get t hat job."
She stroked a caress down the length of the blade across her knees. “He keeps blocking the spell. Diffusing the energy. The building blacked out twice."
Gennie didn't pull away this time when Merle reached out to touch her. As her eyes met his, she realised that time had indeed left a mark on her grandfather. Deep lines etched around his eyes. Dark smudges tinged his thin cheeks. His thin salt and pepper hair flew in fragile wisps around his head.
"I know you hurt, dear. But think like the sorceress you are.” Merle tapped the side of his nose, slipping into lecture mode. “I am drained, my girl. My conjuring blew apart the house. Only the wards and protections kept it from taking out the entire neighbourhood."
Gennie stared down at Cal. Her hope of getting Merle to repeat the spell evaporated. A drained wizard took months, maybe even years to store up magic.
Nick's sound of disgust drew their attention. “Oh, stop dancing around the mistletoe. Caliburn is protecting both the woman he loves and the unborn child she carries."
"That's beating around the bush.
" Arthur blinked then stared at the Gennie and the sword. He jumped to his feet and glared at Nick. “Pregnant? Wait till I get my hands on that...” Confusion and frustration loomed on the ancient warrior's face. He stared at the sword. “Well hell. I can't very well kick his ass, can I?"
Cal's nervous, waiting presence in her mind confirmed Nick's revelation.
Gennie touched her flat stomach with wonder. She sent a tiny shimmer of magic seeking. It wasn't much at all, just a microscopic bit of cells. The life force glowed strong and steady. Strong, curious at this living business, and...
More tears leaked out.
"Ahhh. Poppet, don't cry.” Arthur cringed. Nick and Merle stared on in helpless male frustration at her tears.
"He gave up his last day to give me this.” Painful emotion choked her. How could she feel so horrible and wonderful at the same time?
"That ... he did it on purpose!"
Gennie ignored Arthur and grasped her grandfather's hand. Her other hand pressed against her womb, as if the tiny life would disappear, taking the proof of Cal's humanity.
Nick's steady, quiet observation finally drew her back. She met the fae's black eyes. The man's twinkling generous nature dimmed with the seriousness of the moment.
"What am I going to do without him?"
"Live? Love? Raise his son?"
Gennie nodded. She closed her eyes, barely noticing as Nick manoeuvred Merle and Arthur out. Their murmurs touched a place in her soul.
"Well, old man. I hear you've got a grimoire on the loose."
"Old man? Listen you, if I didn't think of you like a son..."
"Yeah? Who married my thrice great-granddaughter Callista?"
This was her family.
How she wished Cal to be human. Not just for herself. She wanted to share her crazy loved ones with Cal. A son should know his father. Talk about injustice. No one as honourable and good as Cal deserved to be locked away, unable to really be with his family.
* * * *
Her cell phone trilled, jolting Gennie from an uneasy sleep. The vibration sent it skittering across the coffee table. Diving, she caught the phone before it hit the floor. “Hello?"
Conjuring Cal Page 7
