Wicked Fantasy Page 8

  Gerry said nothing until they were out of the castle. “So what was my ancestor Sean like? I mean, he must’ve been something special to bring out all that passion in Morrigan and you.” Who wanted to kill her?

  “Sean could make anyone like him. He had a gift for saying the right thing to stroke egos. He sucked up to Morrigan big-time.” Conall shrugged. “In battle he was a stone-cold killer. His men were like army ants. They destroyed every living thing in their path.” He looked at her. “If you met him today, you’d think he was a great guy. And as long as you weren’t in his way, he’d be fun to hang with.”

  When she got home she’d pull out the Kavanagh history and reread the family’s take on both Sean and Conall. She glanced at his back. “You left your sword in the castle. Bet you feel naked.” Oops, wrong choice of words. The word “naked” started an instant replay of how he’d looked with water sluicing over his bare body, gleaming muscles sharply delineated, clutching that great big sword. “See, now you won’t be able to protect me.” She was trying for teasing, but it came out sounding a little insecure. Why did someone want her dead?

  A smile touched the corners of that expressive mouth. “I have a knife strapped to my ankle.” His smile widened. “Besides, my whole body is a weapon, sweetheart.”

  “No kidding.” And she meant it. “Must be interesting living in the Castle of Dark Dreams. It’s a winning concept, combination hotel and semi-authentic castle. Guests get to act out their medieval fantasies and then sleep in a real castle chamber.” Would the killer try again?

  “Yeah, I like it here.” He stopped smiling. “And you’re avoiding the talk we need to have.”

  “I’m not avoiding anything.” Uh-huh. And he’d believe that. “Where’re we headed?”

  “I thought I’d give you a taste of one of Live the Fantasy’s attractions.” He didn’t turn to look at her. “You’re going to have to let me stay close to you until we figure out where the danger’s coming from.”

  “I can take care of myself.” Uh, no, you can’t. “Well, at least I can take care of myself when I’m awake. It gets a bit problematic when I’m sleeping. Maybe I’ll get myself a big junkyard dog. How’s that sound?”

  He turned those gray eyes on her and the fierceness there backed her up a step. “I’m the only big junkyard dog you’ll ever need. Deal with it.”

  “I don’t want you.” All right, so there were degrees of wanting. She didn’t want him trailing her to the Forever Young Beauty Salon and Spa, ready to lop off Gaston’s head if he cut too much off the bottom.

  But yeah, a little self-honesty never hurt anyone. She could feel the slide of her fangs every time she thought of him in her bed, or on her floor, or hell, in her closet. Who cared. The place was incidental. Just imagining the hard thrust of his body into hers curled her insides into tight steel coils.

  Conall studied her. After maybe a century, she’d get the hang of that expressionless mask other vampires wore so well. Right now, though, he could read every emotion in those green eyes.

  They had something in common. He didn’t want to be her protector, and she didn’t want his protecting. But no matter how hard he denied it, there was lust between them, an ocean of it. He was kicking and flailing away like crazy, but the sex tide was dragging him in deeper and deeper.

  He stopped walking outside the Sultan’s Palace. “Let’s apply logic to this situation.”

  She grinned up at him. “Logic is good.”

  “You’re a vampire, so you can hold your own from dusk till dawn. But after that? Look what almost happened tonight. Locks will keep out humans, but not beings like Asima. I can make it hard for someone to get to you during the day.” He’d have a talk with Eric. The vampire had enough power to throw a mind shield over any door that would keep humans and nonhumans out. Maybe he could teach Gerry how to do that.

  “Makes sense.” She looked like she was really considering it.

  Conall pressed his advantage. “I can help with your job. Sure you have vampire strength and speed, but Jinx almost got to you. If you’re hunting nonhumans, some of them will be more powerful than you are. Then what? Morrigan gave me the physical strength to protect you against almost anything.”

  “You know, it might work.” Her expression turned calculating. “I could use you.”

  Use me, babe. He pushed the thought aside as soon as it surfaced. The part of him that craved using had no working brain cells.

  “My boss asked me to stay here for a few more nights. He got a tip that a serial wife killer was in the castle.” She frowned. “I’m just supposed to identify and observe, not try to apprehend him. Burke will do the actual takedown. Anyway, it would mean a promotion if I could catch this guy before Burke gets a crack at him. You could help.”

  “Burke?” A serial killer in the castle? Holgarth would have to get on this fast. Publicity brochures would not tempt future guests with promises of good food, comfortable beds, exciting fantasies, and their very own encounter with a serial killer.

  “My boss doesn’t think I’m powerful enough to handle the really dangerous criminals. He’s sending in someone more experienced. That would be Burke. I’d like to prove him wrong.”

  Not good. Sure, Conall craved action, but he didn’t want to spend centuries saving her cute behind from homicidal entities. See, he was mellowing. He could actually admit that, yes, a Kavanagh behind could be cute.

  “I still have a problem, though. I can’t sense nonhumans. That’ll come with age, but until then . . .”

  “You’re screwed.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I might be able to help with that.” Pulling out his cell phone, he called Brynn. And while he was at it, he mentioned the serial killer. When he finished talking, he guided Gerry toward a nearby bench. “Brynn, Kim, and Fo will be here in a few minutes.”

  “Okay, I know that Brynn is one of your fake brothers, so I assume Kim is his wife. Who’s Fo?”

  “Someone who’ll be a big help while you’re here.” Conall rested his arm across the top of the bench behind her. He spent the next endless minutes controlling his need to slide his fingers through the silky length of her hair.

  Jeez, it was almost a week before Brynn and Kim showed up. His forehead was damp with his effort to keep from touching Gerry. “Took you guys long enough.”

  Brynn glanced at his watch. “Five minutes?”

  “Seemed like it was longer.” He didn’t meet Gerry’s gaze. “Brynn, Kim, this is Gerry Kavanagh. Gerry, these are my friends. Brynn is an ex-demon of sensual desire. Kim’s an architect.”

  Brynn and Kim nodded at Gerry, but there was no warmth in the greeting.

  Gerry met their coolness head-on. “Look, I can tell you guys don’t like me. I get that Conall’s told you about the Kavanaghs. But this Kavanagh doesn’t want someone to serve and protect her forever. None of this is my fault. I have no control over what a psycho goddess does. But since I can’t do anything about it right now, I’m trying to make the best of it.”

  Kim nodded. “Makes sense. Brynn freaked me out when he told me what he was.” The glance she sent Brynn said she’d grown to love what he was. “But it wasn’t his fault. Ganymede did the damage. I had to deal with it or cut and run.”

  “Uh, who’s going to introduce me?” The small voice came from Kim’s shirt pocket.

  Kim reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a camera phone. She flipped it open and turned it so Gerry could see the screen.

  Huge purple eyes outlined in neon pink blinked at Gerry. “Hi.” The eyes shifted to stare at Conall. “She’s not human.” The eyes returned to Gerry. “I’m Fo, short for First One. I was created as a demon detector and destroyer, but something happened, and now I’m a sentient being.”

  Gerry stared at those eyes. “Sentient being?”

  “I have a mate, Gabriel, who’s like me. We want to create a little one, so Gabriel gave me one of his microchips.” The purple eyes looked excited. “I’m pregnant.�
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  “Pregnant? You’re going to create baby cell phones?” Gerry shook her head. “No, that’s not what I meant to say.”

  The purple eyes narrowed before shifting to Kim. “I don’t know if I can work with a person so politically incorrect, Kimmie.”

  Gerry raked her fingers through her hair. “Sorry. I haven’t talked to many . . . demon destroyers.” Then she seemed to realize what Fo had said. “Work with me?”

  Conall gently massaged the back of her neck. Fine, so he had no self-control. He had to touch. “Fo can identify nonhuman entities. If it’s a demon, she can even destroy it. And she doesn’t have to sleep.” Unlike him.

  Fo might be able to watch over Gerry when he couldn’t stay awake anymore. At least until they found out who’d set the fire.

  Gerry nodded. “Handy skills. She could help me find the wife killer.”

  “Wife killer?” Fo’s eyes widened until they filled the whole screen. “Will I be like a kick-ass bounty hunter? I’ll get a black case with a skull and crossbones on it. Oooh, I want spikes and piercings.” She rolled her eyes toward Kim. “Would there be room for a few scary tattoos?”

  Kim sighed. “I doubt it.”

  Conall looked at Kim. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

  Kim turned Fo to face her. Conall didn’t miss the real concern on Kim’s face.

  “Don’t you think you should discuss this with Gabriel before you make a decision?” Kim ran her finger along the edge of Fo’s case.

  Fo considered that as Kim turned her screen to face Gerry again. “I suppose he’ll want to know.” She brightened. “Maybe he can come, too. He’s more powerful than I am, but I’m a lot more outgoing.”

  Brynn grinned. “Translation: Fo never met anyone she didn’t love talking to.”

  Gerry shifted slightly glazed eyes toward Conall.

  He nodded. “Fo, talk things over with Gabriel. If everything’s a go, we’ll start the search for Gerry’s serial killer tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll have to let Holgarth know I want to stay until the end of the week and then hope Burke takes his time getting here.” Growing anticipation gleamed in Gerry’s eyes.

  Conall waited until his friends had left before guiding Gerry toward the Sultan’s Palace entrance. “Let’s have some fun to celebrate our new partnership.” The Sultan’s Palace was not a good idea. He recognized the fact, acknowledged it, and then ignored it.

  Once inside, he waited while Gerry stared wide-eyed at everything.

  “Wow, I’m impressed.” She turned to Conall. “The gold dome, the oriental rugs, the super-plush everything. It looks like a real sultan would live here. So what’s the fantasy?”

  Conall had already beckoned Sonya over. “Sonya will take you to the harem’s quarters.”

  “Harem’s quarters?” Gerry eyed Sonya’s wide expanse of bare stomach. “Wait, I don’t know if—”

  Sonya smiled as she urged Gerry toward a door. “You’ll love this. We’ll get you some makeup and into an outfit so you’ll be ready for the sultan.”

  “Sultan?” Gerry threw Conall a panicked glance as Sonya led her away.

  Conall smiled and waved at her. Then he turned to Ben, who was manning the ticket counter. “Tell Julio to take this next fantasy off. I’ll play the sultan.” Ignoring Ben’s grin, he headed toward the men’s costume room.

  Gerry glanced around warily. She was comfortable in her job. Chasing bad guys wasn’t scary. This was scary. Sitting on a thick rug, she was propped up by a mountain of colorful pillows.

  With all the eye makeup Sonya had slapped on her, she probably looked like a crazed raccoon. And her clothes? Hah. Clothes covered the body. What she was wearing were strategic pieces of cloth. There was the tiny bra with a playful fringe of beads and bells then nothing until well past her navel. A filmy piece of cloth masquerading as a skirt clung to her lower abdomen with brave tenacity. Go, skirt.

  Relax. We’re having fun here, right? But for the life of her she couldn’t remember ever having even one fantasy about being a member of some sultan’s harem. Conall should’ve asked her opinion.

  “Men don’t have a clue, do they?” The amused female voice reminded Gerry that there were three “harem girls” with her.

  “About what?” All three women were beautiful and blond with pale eyes she’d seen somewhere before. Where had she seen . . . ?

  “About what a woman wants. From your expression, I’d say a man chose this fantasy for you.” The woman shrugged. “This is a guy fantasy. I bet he’s even arranged to be the sultan.”

  Gerry smiled. “Probably. And yeah, I don’t fit the harem mold. Definitely not soft, sweet, and simpering.” But a male harem? Now that was a fantasy. “Do you work here all the time?”

  They all laughed. “No, we’re just filling in for the regulars. They all ate at the same place and came down with food poisoning. Oh, and I’m Tullia.” She nodded at the other women. “These are my sisters, Fulvia and Varinia.”

  Unusual names. “So what will happen next?”

  Tullia shrugged. “Your man will come in dressed as the sultan, send us away, and try to seduce you.”

  Varinia looked contemptuous. “So predictable.”

  Gerry had her doubts about the seducing part. He was an O’Rourke, and she was still a Kavanagh.

  “Didn’t I see you last night with Conall?” Fulvia sounded almost gleeful.

  “Uh, yeah.” She glanced at the door. “He brought me here.”

  Fulvia leaned close. “Poor you. He can only get women to have sex with him who don’t know.”

  “I’m not going to have sex . . . Know what?”

  Varinia shook her head and looked sorrowful. “He roots and grunts on top of a woman like a wild boar digging for turnips.”

  Well, that was certainly a sensual image.

  Tullia chimed in. “He has a foot fetish. Sucks on toes. Sometimes even chews on them.” She shuddered. “Gross.”

  “Foot fetish?” Eww.

  Fulvia didn’t let her get any further. “And they don’t call him the Rocket for nothing.”

  “The Rocket?”

  “Five seconds.”

  “But that’s not even time enough to . . .”

  “It is for him.” Fulvia looked triumphant. “There’s much much more, but we don’t have time to tell you.”

  Varinia smiled. “Why would any woman want to inflict that on herself? Personally, we’re all virgins.”

  “Virgins?” Offhand, Gerry couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen three virgins in one place at the same time.

  Whatever Gerry might’ve said vanished from her mind as the door to the harem was flung open and the sultan entered.

  Conall was big, beautiful, and oozed erotic magic. The robe he wore did nothing to hide the sheer size and power of him. He glanced at the other women. Recognition flashed in his eyes and was gone. “I won’t need you tonight, ladies. You may go.”

  Tullia cast Gerry an I-told-you-so look before silently leaving with her sisters.

  Conall sank to the rug beside Gerry. “You look as lovely as a ripe pomegranate, my sweet.”

  Gerry almost choked on her laughter. “A ripe pomegranate is this big, round red fruit. Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

  A smile tipped up the corners of his mouth. His incredibly yummy mouth. “I assumed a sultan would give his chosen woman a regional compliment.” He frowned. “Where do pomegranates grow anyway?”

  “Got me.” As long as he was being playful, Gerry didn’t feel threatened. “And what else would a sultan say to his favorite harem girl?”

  Suddenly the moment was charged with something hot and intense. “Nothing. If he was a sultan worth his salt, he’d pounce on his chosen pomegranate.” The light come-back didn’t dispel the thick layer of sexual awareness surrounding them.

  “Pouncing is so not sexy.” She tried to match his tone. “His chosen pomegranate would probably spit seeds at him.”

  He studied he
r, his eyes seeing more than she wanted him to see—her nervousness, her uncertainty. “This isn’t an X-rated fantasy. The park gets really cranky if the customers do any consummating during their fun time.” Reaching out he flicked the fringe on her bra and listened to the tinkle of the bells. “Just had to do that.”

  She hated to be the opener of worm cans, but she needed to get the rules straight. “Look, I get that this is a sensual fantasy. I mean, the harem thing was the first hint. Oh, and if you’d asked me, I could’ve told you a male harem was a much bigger turn-on for me.”

  Gerry frowned. “Scratch that last comment. No turn-ons needed. But I guess I’m confused. You’ve made a big deal about how much you hate your curse and the Kavanaghs. And I totally understand. But this?” She swept her arm to encompass the opulent room. “This does not say ‘I hate everything you represent.’ Have I missed something along the way?”

  Conall’s smile was slow and so potent she figured she’d need a chaser after it.

  “Hey, a guy can be conflicted.” He lowered his lids so she couldn’t see his expression as he drew a sizzling line with one finger along the skin just above the top of her skirt. Her stomach muscles clenched. “I hate Morrigan, all of your ancestors, and the curse. But I’m finding it really tough to hate you.”

  “My bubbling personality, I assume?”

  “Your hot body.”

  “Jerk.”

  “And your personality doesn’t bubble. It kicks butt and takes no prisoners. Very sexy.”

  “You’re such a sweet-talkin’ man.”

  His gray eyes darkened. “Besides, you’re the first Kavanagh who doesn’t think the curse makes them a lottery winner.”

  Gerry sighed. How could she keep her mad? She had no trouble seeing things from his side. They’d just met, so he couldn’t admire her for her mind. Especially since she seemed to have lost said mind over the last two nights. Maybe Conall would help her find it.

  “So what’re we doing here? This hot body isn’t feeling a whole lot of erotic vibrations right now.”

  The darkness left his eyes and something softer took its place. “We can still do the fantasy. Lay back and relax.” He shifted a little closer, and as he did so, his robe slipped open.