Page 53 of Knight of the Sword

Sophie choked on suppressed laughter. Michael thumped her back gently, yet firmly, and then turned her, grasping her arms. “Are you all right?”

All right? Being reminded that there was a Christian saint with the same name as the sexy warlock whose intense, dark eyes were holding her as mesmerized as his hands on her arms were was an absurd irony. There certainly was nothing saintly about Michael. Even now, with his thumbs so close to brushing the sides of her breasts, her nipples had pebbled. Her belly thrummed, wanting to press against him and feel the delicious length of his hard manhood. He stirred feelings in her she had long repressed, made her think wanton thoughts of him—them—naked, her legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him deep—Good God!

She pushed away. “You’re spelling me, aren’t you?”

One of his dark brows lifted. “I don’t think I can. Your shields are too strong. Even if I could, I gave you my word I wouldn’t.” A corner of his mouth twitched and then lifted into a half-grin. “But I can scent your desire. I wouldn’t turn you down.”

“Stop it!” Sophie felt more confused than ever as she started walking as quickly as she could. It didn’t help that the place between her legs had grown damp. She could practically smell her own arousal. “What do you mean, my ‘shields’ are too strong?”

Michael matched her pace. “You’ve got powerful magic, Sophie. It keeps anyone from probing into your mind.”

“I don’t have magic!”

“Yes, you do,” he said as they approached the door of the Visitor Center. “Remember what happened when Caldwell almost stepped on one of the puppies? He didn’t go veering into that doorjamb by himself. You sent him there.”

Sophie stopped and stared at him. “How did I do that? I was across the room.”

“That’s just it. Purple light streaked from your fingers. Probably not visible to most people, but it was there. Why don’t you let me help you learn to use it? At least,” he said as he opened the door and ushered her inside, “think about it. We can talk later.”

She recalled that crazy dream she’d had earlier this morning. Something about dragons and goddesses and battles—but that was just a hazy, painkiller-induced dream. Michael and Pendragon had been in the room, talking. But—what had they said? Something about her not being completely human? What did that make her, then?

Chapter Fifteen

“That was strike one,” Sophie said later as they returned from viewing the old fort. “I mean, it was interesting from a historical standpoint, but Excalibur wasn’t hanging around. I guess we couldn’t just have gotten lucky and found it on the first try.”

Michael shrugged as they started walking up Church Street toward their hotel. “We’ve still got Museum Mile to see tomorrow. Are you sure you’re not tired? We can take a taxi.”

“I’m fine. The doctor told me not to coddle my leg. Besides,” she said with just a hint of sarcasm, “I want to see this spooky purple light you told me about.”

He grinned and hooked her arm inside his. She might act all tough and independent, but he’d seen the strain on her face earlier when the ferry had bounced over the wake of some inconsiderate boater and she’d tried to balance without putting too much stress on her leg.

More and more, he admired Sophie. Though hers was a scientific mind, taught to analyze and come to logical conclusions, she had managed to accept Pendragon and at least consider other paranormal aspects to her world. But was she ready to start learning to use her own powers?

“What are you so serious about?” she asked after they’d walked for a few moments in silence.

“You,” he said. “Do you have any idea of the magic you possess?”

She looked at him pensively. ‘You really think I have magic?”

Michael nodded. “I can sense it in you, but then, I’m a warlock. It’s part of my training—”

“Just how do you train to be a warlock?” Sophie asked. “Are you saying anyone can become one?”

“No. I inherited the…ability, but our skills have to be honed, like children being taught to read and write. We must learn to control our powers. Did you know the ancient Druids trained for twenty years before they could become Initiates?”

“No, but what does that have to do with me? I’m sure not a druid.”

“Druidess.”

“Whatever. I’ve just led a normal life until lately.” The look she gave him clearly said she wished it had stayed that way.

“That is the point, Sophie. Your magic was not needed until now.”

She sighed. “Why now, then?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied and tucked her a little closer to him since the sidewalk near the fabled ghostly area was getting more crowded with tourists waiting to see the purple lights. She felt good against him, her soft breast pressing into his bicep. He almost lost his train of thought. “I’m not sure,” he said again, “but the Celtic relics have been lost a long time, and Adam Baylor has been looking for them for—years. So has the Priory. Yet Pendragon was never awakened to help find them. The Goddess of Avalon—and I know you’re skeptical about that—released him for a reason. To find you.”

“I had a dream this morning that you and he were talking about me having dragon blood.” Her eyes widened. “It was a dream…wasn’t it?”