Gryphon's Quest

by Candace Sams

  Her eyes seemed to capture the starlight filtering through the windows. "My life is very...complicated."

  "Are you some kind of agent from your country? Are you wanted by the police for some crime? If you tell me what it is, I swear I'll try to understand, Gryph. I know enough about you to know you would never hurt anyone unless it was in self-defense. You're too strong, too caring." Her gaze drifted to his clothing.

  If you only knew, he thought. Her keen brain was overcoming the emotional upheaval so recently inflicted upon her. She was beginning to assess the difference in his attire. It was a major mistake to have let her see him dressed so unusually. The Order would never understand such a breach of ancient law. Including himself, beings in the Order could be deadly. Any of them would see them both destroyed for what he had done, and what he was doing. He held her to him, breathed in her clean scent, then he rose.

  "I have to leave now. It's for the best, Heather."

  She stood with him. Her gaze held a hurt and lost look. "All right. I won't ask you to do something that's wrong for you. But if you're using my safety as an excuse, don't do me any favors, Gryph. I can look after myself. I've been doing that for a very long time." She turned away.

  "Heather, lass," he grabbed her arm and pulled her back around to face him, "It's not an excuse. It's reality."

  "It's okay. Go your way and do whatever it is you came to do. I'll never understand, and you won't explain. I won't ask any more questions. Just know that I want you. It isn't something I can help. It just happened. If you could tell me that you don't have feelings for me, it would make it easier."

  "I..." his voice faltered. He could turn her away from him forever and save them both by telling her he didn't care. But he couldn't. "By Merlin's balls" he muttered, "I can't tell you something you know is a lie, woman."

  Heather's response was to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him passionately. Gryph tried not to respond, but his arms enveloped her and his sense left.

  "We'll both be damned," he murmured against her lips.

  "Then, we'll both be damned," she replied.

  Gryph picked her up and walked into the bedroom, cradling her against his massive chest. Lowering her until she stood, he pulled the towel away from her. His breath left his body. She was the most enchanting creature he had ever seen. He had watched seductive Forest Fairies in England whose beauty was beyond description. They were known for their ability to sensuously lure men into their domain, leading them into another reality. But nothing in the world had prepared him for the slender shoulders, narrow hips and small waist his hands caressed. Her long legs were made to be stroked, made to be wrapped around a man's body as he plunged into her. Her breasts fit perfectly into his palms—so soft and yielding. If he could spend one night resting his head against such soft flesh—-her flesh...

  She caressed his arms and shoulders, slowly learning his body and watching for his reaction. Soon he was unclothed as well, falling into the softness of the moonlit bed and pulling her with him. She reveled in the feeling of power as he moaned. Her hands stroked the outside of his hips, then made soft sweeping circles inward. His head dropped back, and his chest heaved with gasping breaths.

  Her long, graceful fingers closed around him, and a million nerve endings screamed at once. "I'm lost to you, lass. So lost..."

  Thousands of lonely days and nights had burned themselves into Gryph's memory. For this one night, he wouldn't be alone. In his arms, he held the golden warmth of the sun and a silver-eyed memory to keep. He plunged his hands into her hair, kissed her until she moaned. The small sound was so inviting, he feared he might hurt her with his uncontrolled passion. He wished for more experience in the art of making slow, tender love instead of joining in quick lust. So, he watched her face, learning from her expression and her soft, breathless sighs what she wanted. Needed.

  "Easy, little one, we've all night and I don't want to hurt you," he whispered into her shoulder. Loving the way she touched him, stroked him, he almost lost the very power to breathe.

  "You won't hurt me, Gryph," she whispered as she kissed his neck and jaw line, "I know you won't. It's like you said. I know it in my heart."

  He pulled her body even closer to his, wanting every inch of them to touch. He lowered his head to taste her breasts and stroked her thighs open with his palms. One of Heather's hands dug into his shoulder while the other brushed the rapidly healing injury to his left hip. The feel of her hands on him was almost more than he could stand. The evidence of his full and uncontrolled arousal lay throbbing expectantly against her abdomen. She reached between them and gently cupped his swollen member. Gryph growled in pleasure. He felt her rotate her small, firm hips against him, telling him she was ready. He wasted no time maneuvering over her. His fingers tested and parted the delicate folds of her woman's flesh before he entered. Heather cried out in satisfaction at his thrusting finger. He stroked her and let his fingers enter her over and over, until her soft moans became louder. She was so close to finding release. Gryph quickly pulled his fingers away and replaced them with his erection. He pushed partially into her and stopped, trying to control himself.

  "Please," she begged, "Gryph, now."

  He plunged forward in one long, straight thrust and thought he would die with the pleasure of sheathing himself within her. His own cry of deep pleasure joined hers. Soon, they were moving together as one. She leaned back into his arms, letting his mouth caress every inch of her within reach.

  "One long memory to take into the night, lass. One sweet..." he lost his voice as he felt himself losing all control.

  Heather felt her climax nearing, then it burst upon her with the brilliance of a comet. Her cry brought Gryph to his own release, and she heard him roar out her name over and over. He pulsed within her, and her second climax followed the first. She heard his voice encouraging her from a distant, starry world.

  Coming back to reality took a long time. But he was there, holding her, stroking her back and calling her name. How could she have ever imagined being frightened of this sweet, gentle warrior? She lifted one of his hands from her breast and kissed his palm.

  He stroked a tear away and buried his head in her shoulder so his own would not come. She held him close, rocking him, stroking his hair. What fools they were. What a memory they would have. If he survived this quest, he would be far away in Ireland or wherever the Sorceress chose to send him next.

  This woman would be here, and he would love her for touching his soul as no one ever would. She was so precious to him. Brave and intelligent. The little fool had even stood up to Shayla. If she only knew...if only...

  Gryph cuddled her against him. They caressed each other, finding no words to speak, sensing the profound depth of emotion in one other. Finally, he found his voice. "Heather..."

  "Don't, Gryph. Don't say anything," she told him as she placed her fingers over his lips.

  He kissed her fingertips, then placed them on his chest, loving the feel of her touch. His hands stroked her silken flesh, and he wondered what it would feel like to take her on a windswept moor or in a sheltered forest glen. He mentally shook the images from his mind. Those things could never happen. They were only fantasies he could carry with him. Heather ran her hands down his arms, stopping to examine the Celtic designs on his biceps.

  "These are ancient markings. I never thought much of men wearing tattoos until I saw them on you. They're beautiful. And they suit you."

  "From the beginnings of our race, they've been present."

  "But what about these? Why are they here?" she asked, playfully running her hand down his chest to the tattoos on his inner thighs.

  Gryph was unable to answer, and his quick intake of breath made Heather continue to caress him there. No one had ever touched him as she did. Soon, they were making love again with all the passion born of desperation. They both knew their time was short.

  In the early hours before dawn, Gryph awoke but didn't bother dressing. Heather was lying o
n her side, facing away from him. He allowed himself the luxury of watching her sleep and stroking her hair as it lay against her creamy back. She had been intoxicating. For all his life, he knew he'd remember each splendid moment with her. But the ugly reality was that she didn't even know who she'd chosen to lie with. He made sure the blanket was securely tucked around her before he left. He gathered his clothing, went to the balcony and looked up into the waning night sky. And, for the first time in ages, Gryphon O'Connor literally cursed who he was. He let himself shape shift. The strength of his wings effortlessly lifted him toward his temporary home, his parents and Shayla. He had to find the cursed stones, stop the beast, and leave New York. The unending days and cold nights at the abbey awaited him. Such was his fate. But the warmth of Heather's sweet heart would be his.

  No one could ever take that away.

  ***

  Dawn was soon approaching. Gwyneth paced the floor in panic. Shayla and James still slept, thankfully unaware of the fact that Gryph hadn't returned home the previous night. After his recent close call, Gwyneth feared that he'd gone alone to retrieve the remaining stones. Perhaps he'd fought the beast again and was hurt, or worse. She was almost ready to awaken James and the Sorceress when she heard the familiar beat of strong wings. Gwyn breathed a deep sigh of relief when she saw her son alight on the outside patio. Dawn was soon approaching. She ran to him as soon as he changed back to human form and dressed.

  "Gryph!" She embraced him.

  Relief was evident on her still lovely features. He let her enfold him, then pushed her gently away. "Mother, you look like you're going to have a panic attack. What's wrong? You should be asleep."

  "How can you ask me what's wrong after you left so angry, telling no one where you went?"

  "I had to clear my mind." He looked away, not wanting to reveal anything.

  Gwyneth cocked her head and studied him. "You're lying," she accused. "When you were very small, you'd sometimes lie, and I would always know. You have that same look about you now, and I haven't seen it in all these many years. Gryphon, what have you done?"

  "Mother, I'm not a child. Must I explain away or justify everything I do? Do I ask you and Father to tell me where you are every hour of the day?" He sighed, shaking his thick mane off his shoulders.

  "You've never been secretive before," his mother accused and looked at him with a deliberately piercing gaze.

  "I'm tired, Mother." He turned toward the hallway. "Tonight, I intend to take back what we came here for. I'll find a way to stop the demon, and then we can leave. First, I need to get some rest." Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. All he really wanted was more time alone with memories of Heather. Time to imagine her waking up, imagine he was with her. Holding her so very close.

  He tried to move past Gwyneth, but she blocked his way by putting her hand upon his chest.

  "You've been with that girl, haven't you?" she asked as her eyes searched his face.

  Gryph didn't respond. He stoically stared over her shoulder. "If Shayla finds out, you'll die!" She began to shake and put her hands to her face.

  "Mother," Gryph spoke calmly as he pulled her to him, "Heather doesn't know who I am or anything about the Order. My part in the pact doesn't dictate that I remain celibate. It was one night, that's all."

  "Is that all it was, Son? Just one night? You won't ever be with that outsider again?" Gwyneth looked at him searchingly.

  "Yes, that's all. Now go inside, Mother. You've worried all night for no good reason, and we both need to rest."

  They went upstairs together. Gryph cursed himself for his earlier weakness. He should have left Heather alone. He could lie to others, and they might believe him. He could never lie to himself. What he'd shared with Heather was unlike anything he could ever imagine, unlike the meaningless trysts he'd had in the past. If he got the chance to be with her again, he'd have to take it. His better judgment was swept aside with the realization that she was all he'd ever wanted. Nothing else mattered without her. He couldn't go back to living his life the way he had. Far better to be dead than live in the emotionless prison he'd built for himself. The problem was, he feared his weakness would see her dead too.

  NINE

  When Heather awoke, she found herself cocooned in a warm blanket and knew Gryph was gone. She really hadn't expected him to be there, but was still disappointed. There wasn't anything to indicate he'd ever been present except the disappearing warmth of his body heat. And the soreness of her own body.

  After a quick breakfast and repairing her injured face with makeup, she went to the police department to report Niall for assaulting her. Even though he was a homicide cop, Detective Dayton was the person she asked to see. She remembered he'd instructed her to come to him with any unusual happenings. She assumed that Niall hitting her qualified as unusual enough. He didn't quiz her much on why she hadn't come in immediately, but accepted her excuse that she was just too upset by the incident. And it was easier talking to a policemen she knew. Better him than some complete stranger.

  "We have your statement, Ms. Green, but we'll need to take pictures of your injuries so we can prosecute," the detective told her.

  "I understand. Just put the bastard away so he doesn't do this to someone else," she begged. She stayed at the police department for another hour, then went to work. The police called ahead so the security guard would meet her in the parking lot and escort her to the acquisitions department in case Niall was on the premises. She wasn't surprised to learn that he hadn't shown up for work. Cowards didn't take responsibility for their actions.

  "I just don't believe this, Heather!" Professor McPherson shook his head. "Niall has always been rather full of himself.

  But to deliberately attack another employee, to attack you. Well, it's unthinkable, that's all. Are you sure you're going to be well enough to work?"

  "Yes, Professor. I'll be fine. Besides, what he did to me was nothing compared to what I did to him. He'll be lucky if he walks right or fathers children."

  After patting her on the shoulder, McPherson walked away, still shaking his head in apparent disbelief over the situation. Heather threw herself into her work so she wouldn't think about Gryph or the night they'd shared. The man was right. They didn't belong together. She tried not to think about who he really might be and the sinister nature of his actions. It was all too strange for her academic, logical mind to grasp. Still, she couldn't help wanting him. He was a combination of all of the men she had ever envisaged loving, strong and drop-dead gorgeous with the heart of a knight. There would never be anyone else like him. At least not for her.

  ***

  It was almost quitting time when she found the second of the three rune stones. Apparently, whoever had taken the things had separated them, as Gryph had suggested they might, in an effort to keep them all from being found. She had picked up a Peruvian vase and was moving it to another room when she heard the distinct sound of a moderately heavy object move within its wide bottom. She put her hand inside the vase and pulled out the stone. A quick look around to see if anyone had noticed told her there was no one in the work area near enough to see around the assorted crates and boxes. She hastily placed the stone into her jacket pocket and continued to work, hoping the thief wouldn't notice its absence. Heather didn't want to believe it could be Professor McPherson. There were, after all, others who had gathered artifacts on his team. Any of them may have been motivated by the bribe of a private collector to illegally obtain rare antiquities. The museum had a longstanding reputation for properly locating and acquiring its collections. What would happen when that reputation crumbled? The reputable dealers of the world would have nothing to do with the museum, and the legitimacy of all of their current acquisitions would be questioned.

  By the time she was ready to leave for the day, Heather was confused by what she should do. If she went to the police and gave them the stone, it would probably take forever to return it to its rightful place m Ireland. There was still no way of
knowing who'd taken it.

  She couldn't keep it. That would amount to stealing it herself. And she couldn't go to anyone at the museum without knowing who'd been involved. She might hand the stone right back to the very people who had taken it in the first place, endangering herself.

  It only took her a few seconds to decide. Whatever else he was, Heather's instincts told her Gryph O'Connor wasn't lying about wanting to return the stolen items to their rightful places. He'd risked his life trying to recover them. His parents and that odd woman, Shayla, seemed to be seeking their safe return as well. Perhaps she could even save the museum's reputation by letting him take the things away before anyone discovered them and linked the rest of the shipments with other illegally obtained objects. Later, she might find a tactful way of returning things that hadn't been accepted into the museum's inventory. But if McPherson was involved in Ned's death, he needed to be punished. Her options were confusing, which added to the entire dilemma.

  She let the security guard walk her as far as the end of the sidewalk then quickly continued to her car. She was opening the door when a sound like a stick breaking made her look over her shoulder. There seemed to be nothing there and the knowledge that the security guard wasn't too far away calmed her. Steady girl. Don't let Niall rattle you into jumping at every sound As she turned to leave, she saw a green light approaching her in the reflection of her driver's door mirror. The night Gryphon had been attacked there had been a green light coming from the upper stairwell levels toward them. He had almost died trying to fight off whatever had been there. Heather wasn't stupid. Whatever had been killing people had something to do with that light. Were it not for his physical strength, stubborn determination and that old woman's ointment, Gryph would be dead too. She wasn't waiting to find out what the light meant.

  Heather jumped into the car, turned on the ignition and stepped on the gas. The exit out of the parking lot was only a few hundred yards away, and she would be going too fast for anything or anyone to catch her. At least that's what she thought. She had almost made it to the parking lot exit when some huge form suddenly leapt in front of the car. She instinctively slammed on the brakes, hoping to stop in time to keep from killing someone.