Page 27 of Knight of the Sword

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Even though the night was dark, the new moon not due for another evening, Michael drew the shades in his apartment, shutting out all light from the street. He placed the goblet containing his potion of anise, fly agaric, and mandrake root on the fireplace mantel and knelt to kindle the oak twigs and small branches he had gathered earlier. The need-fire wasn’t large, as the medieval ones had been, but it would be enough to summon Tanio.

The apartment lights were off. In the eerie glow of the small fire, he reached for his drink, downing it quickly. From a small jar, he dabbed his finger into sandalwood oil and drew a cross on his forehead, opening the third eye that would let him see into the Otherworld. Then he sank to the floor, cross-legged, and stared into the fire until it was all that he could see, all that he could feel around him. His hands brushed through the smoke, becoming one with the blaze.

“Tanio, come forth.”

The flames leapt as though a sudden breeze stirred them. Michael withdrew his hands and watched the fire god appear.

“I rarely answer an individual summons, warlock,” Tanio said, the bright blue flame-tips of his hair sparking around him, “but you used the magic mushroom. What is so important?”

“Did you appear with the Pendragon at Sophie Cameron’s house last night?”

Tanio shrugged. “I did not ask her name. Was that the woman you were having sex with?”

“I was not having sex with her!”

One of the fire god’s eyebrows rose. “Then what was it that Pendragon and I witnessed?”

Michael blinked, trying to focus on the wavering god inside the fire. Now was not the time for the damn mushroom to kick in. It was only supposed to heighten his senses and increase his ability to summon the god. “What the hell did you think you saw?”

“Tsk, tsk, warlock. We only saw what you were already envisioning. I must say, the kilt made Pendragon a little homesick for the old days.”

“You had no right to enter my mind,” Michael said, “and definitely no right to send those images to Sophie.” Bel’s Fires! No wonder she had turned all those interesting shades of pink while he was there this morning. She had experienced his fantasy!

“You dare to tell me what I can do?” Flames rose dangerously high, threatening to leap out of the hearth altogether. “You will do well to remember your place.”

The room grew hot. Michael felt the air constricting around him. Heat seared his lungs as he tried to breathe. Tanio faded in and out, as though Michael were looking through a zoom lens. He forced himself to concentrate on a single spark above Tanio’s head, watching it grow, move toward him…and then explode like a huge firecracker over his head.

Michael threw up his hand, muttering sacred words before the sparks could singe his hair or scorch his face. With an effort, he drew the energy of that burst inside himself, letting it wrap its falling shards around his brow chakra. His vision cleared slowly.

Tanio tilted his fiery head, regarding him. “I am impressed, warlock. I’ve never had one of my spells stopped before.” He raised his hands, palms up, and withdrew the heat back into the hearth. “Perhaps you are the best vessel to find the Sword and outwit Balor. I had argued with Brighid about that.”

“I didn’t call you here to play games,” Michael replied. “I want you to stay out of Sophie’s mind. She doesn’t trust men because some jerk really hurt her. The last thing she needs is to think is that I am using her for sexual fantasies.”

Tanio’s brow rose again. “Aren’t you?”

Michael felt his face grow warm and it didn’t have to do with the fire-god’s previous endeavors. “I keep my thoughts controlled. For some reason, we need her to find the Sword. I won’t jeopardize that.”

“See that you don’t,” Tanio replied and then abruptly vanished, leaving nothing but warm embers banked in the hearth.

“Damn it!” Michael shouted as he stood. “You didn’t tell me if you’d stay out of Sophie’s mind!”

Laughter surrounded him and then it faded away.

Michael cursed again as he turned on the lights. How was he ever going to convince Sophie that he wasn’t going to use her like that other guy did if some mischievous god was going to lurk in his head?

****

Baylor leaned back in Lucifer’s lambskin recliner and watched as Morgan expertly fondled his brother. Lucifer grinned at him, white teeth flashing in his tanned face as he brushed his fingers through his blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled, all traces of the demon-red they really were concealed. No one would ever guess that he’d been around for thousands of years…or that he was the Christian’s own devil. Morgan would think she was having sex with a California surfer dude.

“Sure you don’t want a turn first, bro?” Lucifer asked. “You know I tend to fatigue them.”

That was probably an understatement. He used to simply kill them through sheer exhaustion, but laws over the last centuries had taught him to be more careful. Victims turning up dead led to inquiries.

“She’s all yours. I promised Morgan a little treat for the information she got for me.”

“Then I’ll have to make this extra good.”