Amazon, no doubt about
that.
Artair wasn’t sure what to think about Rebecca. He’d seen
glimpses of Amazon in her. She’d broken her would-be groom’s nose with one
punch. Had she not done so, Artair would have found a way to dispense some
payback to the pathetic excuse of a man for embarrassing her. Not that he would
have allowed the marriage to proceed, even if the groom had been willing.
Rebecca didn’t belong with any man. Any man except…
He shook his head at his disturbing thoughts.
Like all Amazons, anger was the trigger for Rebecca’s powers.
Fury at her former fiancé had produced an impressive earthquake on her first try
since receiving her powers that morning. It had been merely a reflex, but he
could build from there. Despite her palpable fear, she hadn’t run from her first
revenant attack. She’d even drawn one of the filthy creatures away from her new
sister, putting herself in jeopardy. Yes, there was definitely Amazon in
Rebecca. But that wasn’t what concerned him. Artair could teach her to protect
herself and to wield a weapon. Nay, his concern was in how to protect himself
from Rebecca Massee.
Artair had been right to call on his goddess, to summon her
weeks ago to tender what he jokingly called his “resignation.” Rhiannon had been
angry. She’d scolded, shouted, threatened and even pleaded with him to change
his mind. There had always been a strong bond between them, and she’d long
wanted something more from him than his help training the Amazons. Rhiannon made
no secret that she desired a more personal association.
Only a bloody fool got involved with a goddess—sexually or
otherwise. An Ancient never had a real attachment to anyone, especially a human,
and Rhiannon no doubt had lavished many a man with her attentions. Of all the
things Artair felt for Rhiannon, of all the loyalty she inspired in him, he
didn’t love her.
He’d never really loved any woman.
He had eased the needs of his body with soft, willing women, but none had
captured his heart. The goddess Freya sent him to her private tropical island to refresh him with her very accommodating
priestesses, although he hadn’t traveled there in quite some time. When he’d
been laird of his clan, he’d busied himself with training his men, not worrying
about taking a wife or siring an heir because he’d always figured there would be
time for that in the future. In his wildest dreams, Artair never dreamed his
future would stretch nearly three hundred years.
Rhiannon had acquiesced to his wishes to return to the mortal
world. When Maria had died, he’d vowed to remain to avenge her death and protect
Sparks, Helen and Trishna. They would be his last generation of Amazons, and
once the new Sentinel was in place, he would leave this generation to his
replacement’s care. The Amazons he’d prepared and fought alongside had never
failed in their quests because he’d trained them well. Yet he was weary of it
all. He’d lost too many along the way.
Then a slip of a girl had suddenly thrown a kink in his
well-thought-out dream. She’d made him realize just how lonely his life had
been—both as laird to his clan and as Sentinel to the women. Simply seeing her,
he saw his future. A home. A wife. Children. All the things he’d been denied by
pledging himself to Rhiannon.
Embarrassed, he tried to push the feelings aside. They clung to
him with a tenacity of a Scotsman’s grudge.
Looking over at Megan, he caught her staring at him again, an
invitation plain in her eyes. Accustomed to the sensuous nature of Fires, but
feeling nothing more for this new recruit than a desire to discipline her and
teach her some restraint, Artair gave his head a stern shake. Her responding
smile told him her plucky spirit would do her Fire ancestors proud. It also told
him he’d be dodging her hands like some tavern wench ducked the roving gropes of
drunken customers.
Rebecca glanced over her shoulder at Artair, her features
reflecting a
that.
Artair wasn’t sure what to think about Rebecca. He’d seen
glimpses of Amazon in her. She’d broken her would-be groom’s nose with one
punch. Had she not done so, Artair would have found a way to dispense some
payback to the pathetic excuse of a man for embarrassing her. Not that he would
have allowed the marriage to proceed, even if the groom had been willing.
Rebecca didn’t belong with any man. Any man except…
He shook his head at his disturbing thoughts.
Like all Amazons, anger was the trigger for Rebecca’s powers.
Fury at her former fiancé had produced an impressive earthquake on her first try
since receiving her powers that morning. It had been merely a reflex, but he
could build from there. Despite her palpable fear, she hadn’t run from her first
revenant attack. She’d even drawn one of the filthy creatures away from her new
sister, putting herself in jeopardy. Yes, there was definitely Amazon in
Rebecca. But that wasn’t what concerned him. Artair could teach her to protect
herself and to wield a weapon. Nay, his concern was in how to protect himself
from Rebecca Massee.
Artair had been right to call on his goddess, to summon her
weeks ago to tender what he jokingly called his “resignation.” Rhiannon had been
angry. She’d scolded, shouted, threatened and even pleaded with him to change
his mind. There had always been a strong bond between them, and she’d long
wanted something more from him than his help training the Amazons. Rhiannon made
no secret that she desired a more personal association.
Only a bloody fool got involved with a goddess—sexually or
otherwise. An Ancient never had a real attachment to anyone, especially a human,
and Rhiannon no doubt had lavished many a man with her attentions. Of all the
things Artair felt for Rhiannon, of all the loyalty she inspired in him, he
didn’t love her.
He’d never really loved any woman.
He had eased the needs of his body with soft, willing women, but none had
captured his heart. The goddess Freya sent him to her private tropical island to refresh him with her very accommodating
priestesses, although he hadn’t traveled there in quite some time. When he’d
been laird of his clan, he’d busied himself with training his men, not worrying
about taking a wife or siring an heir because he’d always figured there would be
time for that in the future. In his wildest dreams, Artair never dreamed his
future would stretch nearly three hundred years.
Rhiannon had acquiesced to his wishes to return to the mortal
world. When Maria had died, he’d vowed to remain to avenge her death and protect
Sparks, Helen and Trishna. They would be his last generation of Amazons, and
once the new Sentinel was in place, he would leave this generation to his
replacement’s care. The Amazons he’d prepared and fought alongside had never
failed in their quests because he’d trained them well. Yet he was weary of it
all. He’d lost too many along the way.
Then a slip of a girl had suddenly thrown a kink in his
well-thought-out dream. She’d made him realize just how lonely his life had
been—both as laird to his clan and as Sentinel to the women. Simply seeing her,
he saw his future. A home. A wife. Children. All the things he’d been denied by
pledging himself to Rhiannon.
Embarrassed, he tried to push the feelings aside. They clung to
him with a tenacity of a Scotsman’s grudge.
Looking over at Megan, he caught her staring at him again, an
invitation plain in her eyes. Accustomed to the sensuous nature of Fires, but
feeling nothing more for this new recruit than a desire to discipline her and
teach her some restraint, Artair gave his head a stern shake. Her responding
smile told him her plucky spirit would do her Fire ancestors proud. It also told
him he’d be dodging her hands like some tavern wench ducked the roving gropes of
drunken customers.
Rebecca glanced over her shoulder at Artair, her features
reflecting a
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