Lucas nodded. “Go on.”
“Well, then. Wouldn’t it make sense to start researching churches in the U.S. that might have been dedicated to Mary Magdalene? How much higher can a rose climb than to become a saint?”
“You may have something there,” Lucas said with a hint of admiration.
Sara nodded. “And Mr. Smith has a vast collection of stuff related to the Magdalene. He got hooked when he readHoly Blood, Holy Grail.” When Lucas raised an eyebrow questioningly, she shrugged. “My boss has eclectic tastes. This one appealed to him because, as he said, ‘Who else but theCatholic church could pull off casting a woman first as a whore and then making her a saint?’ He even has copies of various paintings done of her. Maybe if we could trace one of them to an actual church here in America or ones that have black Madonnas like they do in Europe—Oh!” She grimaced and rubbed her left temple as the sudden pain struck.
Lucas was beside her in an instant, a steadying arm around her shoulder, the fingers of his other hand already gently stroking her forehead, easing the pressure.
“Aye, lass. The channeling gets to be too much, I ken. Ye just relax now. There’ll be plenty of time to sort through all this once we get back to Texas.”
She listened to the deep rumble of that beautiful brogue. She could keep this platonic. She really could. But just for one small second, she wanted to be closer to him. It would mean nothing really. Really. She laid her head on his shoulder.
“That feels so good.”
For a moment, she felt him hesitate and then he tightened his grip ever so slightly around her shoulders. Just enough to press her breasts softly against his chest.
This was strictly one friend comforting another. That’s all it was. Really.
****
Michael was waiting at the DFW baggage claim when they landed. The man was getting to be a real pest, Lucas thought as he watched him hug Sara. The entire flight home he’d warred with himself, remembering the lush fullness of her breasts as he held her and reminding himself that it was as dangerous for her as it was for him to get physically involved. The wolf could only be kept in check while Lucas controlled his own emotions. And he’d told her—by the Dagda, he wished they hadn’t been interrupted—that he wouldn’t let that happen again. And he couldn’t.
“I’ll take you home,” Michael said and reached for her bag.
Lucas picked it up first. “That won’t be necessary. I can take her home.”
For a moment, the other man studied him and Lucas got the distinct impression that those dark eyes were delving deeper into his psyche than was necessary. He brought his shields up with force and the corner of Michael’s mouth quirked up before he turned back to Sara. There was some kind of invisible power there, but Lucas couldn’t determine if it was for good or bad.
“Brianna had a…an ‘occurrence’ yesterday,” Michael said carefully, and Lucas wondered what kind of code he was speaking in, for Sara immediately alerted to it as his wolf would have done.
“Is she all right?” Sara asked.
Michael looked troubled. “Not sure. You know she sometimes gets spells…” He glanced at Lucas and then back to Sara. “She’ll feel faint and need to rest. But this time, she got sick.”
“You were there?”
He shook his head. “Morgan was with her. She’s the one who called me. Seems like they were having tea.”
Tea? Another code maybe? “Who’s Brianna?” Lucas watched as Sara exchanged a quick glance with Michael.
“My best friend,” Sara answered and reached for the suitcase Lucas was still holding. “I really need to go and see her. I’ll come by the mansion early tomorrow morning and we can start that research.”
Reluctantly, he released the bag. She was obviously in distress. The last thing he wanted to see was Michael put an arm around her shoulders. Hell, he’d been comforting her himself just yesterday and it irked him to see another man doing it now. And he definitely did not like the look of triumph on the guy’s face as they walked away.
Lucas glanced at his wristwatch and then pulled out his cell and dialed Gavin’s number. It would be dark in London by now. The vampire answered on the first ring.
Briefly, he told him what had happened in Nova Scotia and asked him to start the subtle unlayering of protection that Balor always kept around him. Fangs—vampire or wolf—next to the jugular could bring amazing breaches in confidentiality. He could hear the grin in Gavin’s voice as he responded. Nothing like a good hunt and release.
“Just one more thing,” Lucas added.
“Sure. What?”
“See what you can find on an American named Michael McCain. Let’s make sure he isn’t one of us.”
****
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Sara asked. Brianna’s face was still pale and, although normally energetic, she was propped up in a recliner in her home.
