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An alliance is a tenuous thing, requiring truce, trust, and forgiveness. Not qualities usually found in warring factions – Nadia Lambrusco, Never Trust a Templar, 1754
Chapter 2
Ryan Chamberlain stormed down the passageway of the Arcanists’ headquarters. Over the past few months he’d come to know the way through the twisting labyrinth by heart, easily avoiding the traps set for anyone trying to breach the arcanists’ security. He clutched the crumpled printout of the email he’d received. The address, clearly wrong, had sent him and his team on a wild goose chase, while the Arcanists had jumped the gun and assaulted the demon lair on their own.
Seven Arcanists dead, several more wounded. Ryan grieved for their losses but was sure as hell not going to accept responsibility. This was clearly an Arcanist screw-up.
Ten months ago, after Templar Commander Geoffrey le Court crossed over to the demon dimension to permanently close the demon gate, Ryan thought he had things pretty much in hand. The Templar High Council in Paris assigned him the leadership of the American division. The Templar ranks were expanding and the demons were pulling back into hiding.
But the demon lords still had their agents in place. In a surprise attack, they murdered the Templar High Council and pillaged the treasury, drying up funding for projects. Agents throughout Europe and Asia had been hunted down and exterminated. Most of the remaining Templars abroad fled to the United States for refuge. And in the confusion, Ryan became the highest-ranking Templar commander.
With sudden intensity, the weight of the entire Templar organization descended on Ryan’s shoulders. Within weeks of the attacks, the demons rolled out a new tactic. Their infiltration of the clergy, using the stolen Templar money and political clout, caused churches, synagogues and mosques, the power centers of the Templar Knights, to go dark. Worse, some were openly changing from white to red power, the signature of demon control.
Demon power within the church itself was a disaster for the already besieged Templars.
The Arcanists faced no better situation. Demons had heavily infiltrated the Arcanists when Shimone, the demon goddess, rose to become leader of the Gaia-based organization. Purging the demons had gutted the already floundering Arcanist ranks.
Like it or not, the Arcanists and the Templars needed each other right now. The two groups were polar opposites in their beliefs and philosophies. There was intense hatred on both sides, built over thousands of years of conflict. But, they shared a common enemy in the demons; an enemy that now threatened all of humanity. Somehow, they had to put aside their differences and learn to work together. The address mix-up wasn’t the first breakdown in communication between their agents. Ryan sighed. It needed to be the last.
Joyce Jorgens awaited Ryan in the Arcanist council chambers. Despite their philosophical differences, Ryan had come to respect the woman and her judgment. Under Joyce’s leadership the Arcanists were recovering from the devastating blow the demons had dealt their organization.
“Ryan.” Joyce greeted him with a soft smile. He instantly saw the weariness in her face. She looked the way Ryan felt.
“Joyce.” Ryan extended his hand and the middle-aged redhead took it. Her eyes were dark. Gray streaks had emerged in her once fiery red hair.
She appeared on the edge of exhaustion.
Ryan well understood what the weight of leadership could do to a person. He could certainly empathize with what Joyce must be going through.
Everyone else called Joyce Jorgens, JJ. But Ryan wasn’t about to let down his guard—become too informal—with a woman who’d been his mortal enemy just a year ago. No matter how much he identified with her, Joyce was still one of the most dangerous sorceresses on the planet.
“Chamberlain.” The voice came from the back of the room. The short, slim form of Salina Frye slid from the shadows. Dark, exotic, enchanting. Ryan had a number of past encounters with the raven-haired sorceress. None of them had been pleasant. Even now her dark, piercing eyes were accusatory and distrustful as she prowled toward him.
Ryan couldn’t shake the image of a panther, stalking its next meal. The petite, olive-skinned Arcanist was every bit as dangerous—every bit as deadly.
Still, the sight of her took his breath away. She was a stunning beauty. The long, dark strands of her silky tresses framed exotic features that would affect any man on a visceral level—eyes that could go from heart-melting to icy cold in an instant—pouty lips that begged to be kissed. Strong, sensual and arresting, Salina Frye stirred primal thoughts in Ryan’s core. He’d need every discipline he’d ever learned to deal with her.
Drawn to her and repulsed at the same time, Ryan wrenched his eyes away from Salina and cocked his head toward Joyce, raising one brow in query.
“I hope you don’t mind. I want to include Salina in our discussions.”
Salina Frye would be a complete distraction, but Ryan couldn’t think of a single valid excuse to exclude the young woman.
“Of course,” he offered quietly, as his mind screamed at him.
JJ indicated the large meeting table. “Let’s get started.”
He noted the welcoming pitcher of ice water, and grabbed it and a glass, as he seated himself. He was suddenly parched—his mouth as dry as a desert.
“We’ve had too many incidents of late,” Joyce began. Ryan nodded his agreement. If he could keep his eyes off Salina and his mind on business, he’d have a chance of surviving this meeting. The ice water helped cool the fires burning him from the inside.
He slid the email copy across the table toward Joyce. “It truly wasn’t our fault.”
JJ handed him a different print-out. Everything in the email was exactly the same, except the address.
“That is what we sent. This is what you received.” JJ shook her head. “Clearly security has been compromised somewhere.”
Ryan stared at the printout in disbelief. It hadn’t been an error. It had been deliberate. “The demon lords are becoming more Internet savvy?”
Joyce nodded. “Or they’ve acquired the services of some high-level hackers. In any case, we can’t trust our old means of communication. We simply need to work closer together—your people here, my people at your headquarters, then we can communicate using magical means, bypassing the internet and high-tech communications.”
“Cell phones?” Ryan asked.
“We must assume they’ve also been compromised.”
Magical communication would be the best solution. Two people point to point, with no technology between that could be hacked.
Joyce narrowed her gaze. “We also need combined strike teams working together and training together. Perhaps we even need to acquire a new facility for joint task forces.”
Ryan shook his head. “There is still a great deal of animosity between Templar and Arcanist. Working and just being that close together could be a colossal mistake. We’re just not to that point yet.”
Joyce sighed. “Then we start small. One of yours—one of mine. I would do it myself, but I’m getting too old for field work. Salina has volunteered. She is one of my best agents and is well respected among the Arcanists. Find me a Templar to work with her. Once they’re working together, we can move others, those we can trust to keep the peace, into the team—build it from the ground up one person at a time.”
It was a good plan—a solid plan. It needed to be done or the two groups would never work well together. It would have to be one of his younger knights. The older agents had fought the Arcanists too long and too hard. Their hatred would poison any hope of unity.
The Arcanists would surely have the same problem. That was probably why Salina had been chosen by Joyce.
He placed Salina in her mid-to-upper twenties—probably only a few years younger than himself. She was young enough to still be open-minded, while old enough to have developed considerable skills.
As he mentally went over his list of young knights, Ryan realized the choice of Salina Frye offered up a whole new challenge. Deep
down he didn’t trust her and that was the problem. Until he could trust her, he couldn’t trust any of his people with her either. As much as he hated it, his choice was already made for him.
Demonic activity is all around and isn’t hard to spot. – Marco Lavine, Templar on Guard, 2011
Chapter 3
“We should move in together,” Tom Johnson said for the third time.
Salina ignored him, changing the subject instead. “Are we going to flux the energy or stream it?”
There was a slow smolder in Tom’s deep blue eyes. Damn, he was going to press the matter.
“I mean it, Salina. Think of the power.”
Oh, so that was his tactic this time. Not friendship, a living arrangement or, the goddess forbid, a relationship. He wanted her to move in with him, sleep with him, because of the magical energy the situation would create.
Salina knew of at least a dozen Arcanist couples that lived together solely for the purpose of creating and experimenting with sexual energy. It was a strange phenomenon, for sure—one Salina often wondered about. Tom had been after her for months, and she’d finally given in to him in one weak moment.
It had been an interesting experiment and, in the back of her mind, she’d hoped it would turn into more than that.
Okay, she had to admit, deep down she was a bit of a romantic. She wanted romance, a soul mate…the whole package.
Creating and using sexual energy in her magic was a nice byproduct, but that wasn’t what she was looking for in a sexual partner.
And this project was much more important than their issues.
The shimmer floated in the air above a stack of three soft mattresses. Salina was taking no chances with the valuable relic. The red tinge of the power that surrounded it had deepened to a rusty brown as she and Tom pumped the Arcane, green-tinted power into the demonic device. Probing as they attempted to discover its secrets.
Salina felt a weak response from the item, a hesitant give to its resistance. “Let’s try to pulse the power flow.”
A misty image swirled in the center of the mirror-like object as she and Tom probed. Tom was okay to work with, but Salina really missed Kelly Grant. The stalwart librarian had always been Salina’s favorite lab partner.
What’d happened to her friend still mystified Salina. How could Kelly have been so smitten with a man, and a Templar Knight no less, that she’d thrown herself through a dimensional portal for him? Salina could only wonder what occurred when Kelly and the Templar Knight, Geoffrey le Court, emerged on the other side.
That bastard Templar probably dumped her and left her stranded and alone in a strange world crawling with demons.
Though the Templars were now technically their allies, Salina still didn’t trust any of them. Kelly had held such promise and been Salina’s closest friend. Where was she? How was she? Salina fervently wished she could see Kelly just one more time—know she was okay.
“What the hell?” Tom’s shocked words startled Salina out of her thoughts. “Isn’t that Kelly Grant?”
The swirling mist in the shimmer had cleared and, sure enough, the image of Kelly Grant filled the surface.
“Things must be going okay for her over there,” Tom continued to ramble. “She’s gained a little weight, though.”
Salina saw the protruding stomach—the way Kelly carried herself.
“You idiot, she’s pregnant!” There was an aura of serenity about her friend Salina had never seen before. Muscular arms came around her from behind and hugged Kelly close. Salina could just make out the face of Geoffrey le Court before the shimmer started to cloud over again.
Okay, maybe he hadn’t dumped her.
The pulsing had worked—opening the shimmer to communicate, at least one way, into the demon dimension. It must have homed in on Kelly because Salina had been thinking about her. At least she now knew Kelly was safe, loved…and pregnant?
“Keep pulsing, Tom. I want to try to get her back.”
Salina concentrated on Kelly and Geoffrey—willing their image back into the shimmer, but Tom’s control was slipping. He was losing his concentration.
“I don’t see why you won’t move in with me. We make a great team.”
Seriously? That again? “Damn it, Tom. Concentrate.” She could feel Tom’s frustration, but hell, she was getting pretty perturbed. They ended up fighting each other’s energy stream rather than pulsing their energy in harmony.
“Fine!” Salina gave up. “Let’s have this out before you drive me nuts.” She guided the shimmer down to the mattresses. Once it was safe, she turned to confront him.
“How can you say ‘no’?” His face was red with frustration. “Look at what we just did together. And consider. Unlimited power and awesome sex…”
The sex had been anything but awesome. Only the mystical energy they’d generated had made it interesting, and that had been just a trickle. Tom was a nice enough guy but they just hadn’t clicked. Outside of sorcery they had zero shared interests. She’d tried. She’d really wanted it, but Tom just didn’t do it for her. There was no real passion. Deep down, she needed that in a relationship.
“I can say ‘no’!” Salina exploded. “This is me saying ‘no’. No, no, no, no, NO! How many times do I need to say it?”
She thought she’d made herself very clear. Right from the start, they’d agreed it would be just an experiment. Testing the waters of their mutual attraction and arcane interests. She’d hoped it would turn into something more, but it hadn’t.
She didn’t consider herself a loose woman and while many of the Arcane rituals contained a sexual element, Salina rarely slipped into the erotic side of enchantment. Still, she didn’t consider herself a prude either, but she wanted more than just sex involved.
“Salina…”
Ugh! Give it up. How best to get through to him and not affect their working relationship? She just had to be firm. Lay it out in terms Tom couldn’t misconstrue.
“Look, we agreed…you agreed. It was a onetime thing. We had our fun. You rocked my world. It’s done…over.”
“Umm—”
Seriously!
“Tom, it was just sex. It didn’t mean anything. There is nothing between us. Let it go!”
He was waving his hands, pointing at her…no, pointing behind her. A loud, clearing of a throat gave Salina the first indication someone else was in the room.
Shit!
She felt him now. His white Templar aura lit up the room like a neon sign. Had Tom not gotten her so worked up, she would’ve sensed Ryan’s approach long before he’d gotten within earshot.
Damn.
She turned to confront him. Ryan was frowning, his forehead crinkled and his eyes mere slits. His arms were crossed and he was shaking his head slowly, side to side. She could feel his disgust.
“We have a mission.” His voice was level, controlled. She hated that about him. He was always so in control. “We’ll be going to the Lakeside Casino to check for possible ties to the demons. Meet me topside in an hour.”
The Templar spun on his heel and walked out of the chamber. Salina seethed. What had she said? How much had Ryan heard?
Fuck him. He’s got no right to judge me or my actions!
But she knew she’d given Ryan Chamberlain a wrong impression of herself. The big question was: Why did she care?
* * *
Ryan pounded through the tunnels, making his way up to the nondescript white house, with the neat picket fence that marked the entrance to the Arcanists’ hidden underground stronghold. Dusk was creeping upon the lands around, and Ryan stood by the fence gate, breathing in the night air.
It shouldn’t surprise him an Arcanist would so easily dismiss an intimate encounter. Rumors of the Arcanist’s naked rituals held under the moonlight abounded. Still, Ryan was working to view his new allies in a more positive light. Salina’s rant hadn’t helped his image of the organization at all, and this was the woman he was expected to work with, to foster a better under
standing and communication between the Templars and the Arcanists.
Certainly, he’d had his share of sexual encounters. It was a part of testing the waters— looking for that one woman who would complete him. He didn’t consider himself prudish, but casual sex wasn’t what he was looking for. A one-night stand held no allure, even with a woman as drop-dead gorgeous as Salina Frye.
Still, he tried hard not to judge others by his own standards. Maybe there was more going on between Salina and Tom than appeared on the surface, though Salina’s comments had seemed pretty clear. It certainly fit with the picture Ryan had formed of the woman through the few times he’d encountered her.
How long Ryan stood at the fence lost in his thoughts, he couldn’t say, but the moon was rising on a clear night sky when he felt her presence behind him. Ryan had never been able to read auras, but he could get a sense of a person who was close to him.
Usually this feeling was dead on, but with Salina, his senses were baffled. Somehow the witch had been able to fool his perceptions. The person he felt was shy—sensitive, nothing like the brash, confident, seductress Ryan had come to know.
She stood behind him quietly. Perhaps she didn’t know he could sense her presence when she was this close. Ryan paused for just a moment. There was something new here. A feeling—just a quick flash. Embarrassment? No, it certainly couldn’t be that. Again, Ryan wondered why he had such a hard time reading Salina.
He sighed and gave up trying. They had work to do. “You ready to go?”
She startled; obviously unaware he’d felt her behind him. No, you can’t sneak up on me, Salina Fry.
“A casino sounds like a bit of a gamble.” Her hesitant chuckle exposed her unease. She’d obviously meant it as a jest, but she was spot on. This would be a gamble.
Demon activity had gone deeper underground lately. There were fewer kidnappings and harem raids to help the Templars locate demon lairs. The Ballor lords even seemed to have stopped fighting amongst themselves for territory, which had always been a good way to identify them. Demon lords hid among humanity as incredibly wealthy businessmen, always coveting their neighbor’s wealth and territory. There was rarely any level of cooperation among them. Greed ruled them. They took from each other as easily as they took from humanity.