Fiery Pursuit (Passionate Pursuits, Book One) (13 page)

* * * * *

Lars came back to consciousness, more slowly this time, waking to a world of pain. Dear God, he’d never known such agony. But the thought that his powers had deserted him distressed him more than his battered body.

But he must regain his strength. He knew that without a doubt Sophie was in dreadful danger.

I’ll never take my powers for granted again. I’ll be thankful for any I’m given. But please, even if you take the powers away from me forever, please let me have them for a few hours. I need them for long enough to save my Sophie.

He kept his head bowed, trying to reach his inner voice, not thinking of anything but Sophie. Mallory had her again. Mallory would rape her over and over again until there was little left of the spirit he loved. If his powers were granted to him one more time he and his mother could heal her body. But nothing could bring back the bright mettle of the soul he loved if Mallory crushed it.

Please, let me help the woman I love.

His head bowed, he prayed that even if his elfin powers had left him forever he could conquer with his own strength. He’d soon know, as he certainly intended to try. It would be so helpful if he still had the ability to convey himself to her side so he could be there when she needed him.

His head was still lowered. Focusing only on Sophie, Lars heard the whisper he longed to hear. With a rush of thankfulness he stilled to listen to his inner voice that had not spoken to him throughout his ordeal.

Lars, you’ve been a good and faithful steward. Always. But you’ve never truly understood the desperation of the ones you’ve saved. You’ve been kind but not as involved as the sympathetic man you could be.

Lars kept his head down.

No, I’ve never known or understood this kind of anxiety. I’ve performed the physical release of many, but then gone on to another without much thought. I wish I’d done better, but no matter. Sophie is what’s important. Forget about me and help her.

Immediately he heard a soft chuckle and felt a few of his powers returning. Thank heavens his mage’s inner voice was communicating with him once again. Not stopping to wonder why he’d been blessed, or if he’d regained all his elfin powers, he rejoiced with a gladness he’d never imagined. Now perhaps he could somehow help Sophie, who needed him as desperately as he needed to go to her.

He sat without moving, feeling his ribs begin to heal and his body mend. If Smythe didn’t sense his awakening he might yet escape and go to Sophie.

* * * * *

Sophie sat still as everyone in the auditorium gradually left. Many of them stopped by to congratulate her on her splendid presentation, although several of them seemed more curious than she’d liked. These few spoke of her splendid answers to the questions that had peppered her. She thanked them but said little. She didn’t really want to deal with establishing her own reputation right now.

She wanted to escape Mallory, go quietly home to Viking Hall and hope Lars would give her a chance to compensate with her deeply regretted deceit.

Nothing loomed as important as Lars.

Looking at Mallory lounging against the wall, she knew it was probably too late for her to acknowledge this simple truth.

* * * * *

Sophie turned to gather her papers and try to make her own exit. Mallory suddenly moved and she found herself crowded against her seat, his large body effectively blocking any move she might make. He thrust his snakeskin cane in front of her legs, making it impossible for her to move.

She looked him directly in the eye, hoping her dismay didn’t show.

“Come, Sophia, don’t pretend you’re surprised. I’m astounded to see you but count it an incredible bonus. Especially since you’re without your watchdog, and are unlikely to see him again.”

She couldn’t control her start of alarm. But she managed to shrug. “Oh you’re wrong. Lars will be here directly. And then he’ll tear you apart.”

Mallory’s bark of laughter held a note of triumph that filled her with dread.

“Don’t count on the estimable count to rescue you, my dear. Smythe has him bound and helpless. He’ll not appear for some time, unless I permit it.”

Sophie struggled to keep her head high and her voice confident.

“That’s impossible. Smythe’s in jail. And no one can defeat Lars.”

Mallory’s malicious laugh drew a shudder she couldn’t quite suppress.

“I like you fearful, Sophia. You do well to fear me. You’re wrong about Smythe. He has your precious Lars tied and helpless until I have time to deal with him. Would you like me to bring him to you now, bound and trussed like a turkey? You can watch me torture him. He deserves that for his impertinence of keeping you from me. Of course you could save him a deal of pain. I’m willing to bargain with you.”

Sophie tried to keep panic from her voice.

“I’d as soon bargain with the devil.”

Mallory grinned at her, a diabolical grimace of a grin frightening her even more than his words. She knew his intent was wicked beyond her imagination. Perhaps the devil really was the better bargain.

She hated, purely hated, his almost colorless eyes. They seemed somehow more malicious than if they were a normal hue. She’d never seen eyes like his. She’d hoped never to see them again.

He raised his snakeskin cane and then let it fall.

“I’ll discipline you soon, Sophia. But perhaps not here. Not quite yet.”

Sophie didn’t speak, praying that what he said wasn’t true. Did he really have Lars in his power? If so, she’d do anything to save him.

Anything at all. Could she bargain with Mallory in any way?

Chapter Nine

Lars concentrated on keeping his breathing shallow and not moving a muscle. But his mind struggled with his problem. Would he be able to find and help Sophie in time? Had his powers really returned? He needed to wish himself to her side. He knew without a doubt she’d be facing that devil Mallory soon. And he needed to conquer Smythe once and for all. Preferably before the brute worked him over again.

But he wasn’t at all sure of how much strength was renewed.

How he regretted his lack of understanding for those who suffered degradation and violence. The large Norwegian soldier he’d sent to others to try to heal spiritually. All the others he’d been instrumental in capturing and returning to a normal life. He’d done his job and then passed them on. He’d sympathized, but really had no idea of what physical and mental suffering meant. He’d been kind, helpful and considerate, but only because he knew it was the thing to do. He’d been without a trace of true empathy. He’d followed up only perfunctorily.

Even Sophie. His beloved Sophie. He’d rescued her physically, but made no real effort to understand the depths of her obsession with revenge for her father. He’d merely informed her he’d not make love to her until she conceded to his viewpoint. If he could do so without alerting Smythe he would have groaned out loud. How had he not recognized how selfish he’d become? When did his own wishes become paramount?

Yet his Sophie was in some unimaginable way determined to protect him. He knew that now as surely as if she’d told him so herself.

He’d been overbearing and insensitive to anything but his own wishes. Meaning well didn’t count if it hurt the one you loved. He’d not only hurt her by withdrawing from her affections, he’d left her to face her demon alone. A certainty that she was even now facing Mallory again invaded his mind.

With incredulous joy he felt another stirring of his elfin power. Almost afraid to believe, he thought he might be regaining all his former abilities. He even felt his ears raise and peek through his hair.

Perhaps it was this that gave him away. Smythe knelt down, grabbing his hair and forcing his head up so he could look in Lars’ battered face. He raised his other fist with the snarl of a brutish animal.

Lars felt another powerful surge of his renewed abilities and almost shouted in relief. Without a pause he immobilized the bully and stopped his fist before he could throw a blow. As Smythe fell to the floor, Lars started to flex his muscles, thankful beyond words as the strength he’d always taken for granted flowed into him in a rush.

Sorry, Lars, but to have lasting happiness you had to change. I wish I could have thought of another way
.

Lars half smiled and half sobbed.
And I thank you, my mentor. I thank you more sincerely than I’ve ever thanked you before
.

That’s what I needed to hear
.

The voice faded as Lars’ power surged through his system and he threw off his bonds. His body was healing too, although he still ached and his ribs throbbed. He didn’t have time to worry about his pain. Sophie needed him.

He stood, deciding he didn’t have time to secure Smythe and, picking up the cosh, hit him once on the back of this head. Hopefully that would keep him motionless beyond the usual limitations of his spell. Not his usual style at all, but this man was a dangerous loose end who must be neutralized for a spell. Then he’d follow through with the deportation he should have authorized before.

No matter he’d done something he’d never permitted himself to do. He’d always used his elfin powers more than his physical, and never had hit a transfixed enemy. Sophie was more important and he must go to her. Praying silently he’d be in time, he concentrated all his strength on reaching his love.

On the next breath Lars conveyed himself to the hall where the Mathematical Society met.

* * * * *

“I’d as soon bargain with the devil himself.”

With pride and relief, Lars heard his beloved’s voice and he knew he’d been in time. He ran down the hall on silent elf’s feet, toward the auditorium, anxious to confront Mallory. On a quick whoosh of admiring breath, he realized she was expressing her contemptuous disdain of a man capable of killing her where she stood. One who’d do so without a qualm. He didn’t need to see her to know she was standing straight and proudly, her magnificent eyes flashing only scorn, not fear.

As he leapt toward the door to the meeting room, he heard Mallory’s growl.

“You’ve just killed what little mercy I felt toward you, you arrogant bitch. You’re no match for me. This time I’m going to take my pleasure of your body being bound and at my mercy. Then I’ll use this cane to whip your back to shreds. And then I’ll give you to Smythe. There’s no one now to protect you, missy.”

Sophie stood staring at him, defiance evident in her proud stance.

And Lars stepped through the door, his tall powerful body held in readiness, as were his fists.

Sophie’s eyes flared when she saw him, welcoming him, her overwhelming relief evident as she took a step backward to get out of his way.

Lars ran his hands through his hair to let his elves’ ears show through. Mallory seemed startled and emitted a low growl. Madness gleamed in his eyes, however, and Lars knew he would not give up easily. In fact he hoped he didn’t. Not only were his elves’ powers enhanced, but his own strength seemed doubled at the thought of finally getting a chance to punish this beast who’d so cruelly abused his love.

“I am more than ready to protect Miss Masters, Mallory. But who will protect you? I am not a forgiving man when it comes to her well-being.”

The mildness of his voice would have fooled no one who heard him. His intentions were deadly, and he watched Mallory blanch.

“How the hell did you get loose? By god, I’ll kill Smythe.” Mallory’s voice was almost a whisper.

“You’ll never get the chance.”

Lars’ implacable and murderous gaze would have given a saner opponent pause.

With the roar of a mad beast, Mallory charged at Lars. Mallory’s stockier build at first glance looked threatening, but then Lars noted the fat overlaying his muscles and the wild glare in his eyes. He knew his disciplined strength would be more than equal to the task of punishing this piece of offal. He had no doubt at all of the outcome. Mallory’s strength was that of a raging animal, but Lars’ power was that of a disciplined and highly trained warrior. And the mental ability to do with it what he would.

What he chose to do was ignore his supernatural powers and use his natural strength to punish the brute who’d so desecrated his love. He didn’t want to immobilize him. This beating would be as solid as he could make it, but he’d use only his own strength. He’d need no elfin augmentation to pound this animal until he either begged for mercy or was unconscious. Preferably unconscious, beaten to a pulp and so weakened he could never again threaten his beloved Sophie.

And then Lars proceeded to do everything in his power to down the man and avenge his love. He charged with an energy concentrated on punishing this beast who’d made her life a living hell and now planned to do even worse. As soon as he launched the brutal fighting Mallory immediately went for Lars’ kidneys, but expecting him to fight dirty, Lars was ready. He easily deflected the blows and aimed his own at Mallory’s gut. It was softer than Lars had expected, and an obvious weakness to be exploited. But Lars wanted more than a quick victory. He struck him in the stomach with another left and right, and then methodically began to hammer him with a succession of blows that pounded Mallory in machine-like precision. First his face, and blood was soon pouring down Mallory’s chest from his broken nose. Then both eyes, although Lars did not strike his chin.

One glance told him Sophie watched, her hands to her lips, as he set out to avenge his love. He punished Mallory’s body with methodical blows, but always above his hips. Mallory’s wild fury soon turned to an agonized panic. His fists flailing, his desperation revealed as he weakened and his blows grew less effective. Lars worked his way down, concentrating finally on the fleshy stomach, striking a series of merciless blows. Then with one final punch, he hit him squarely in the groin.

Mallory screamed and collapsed on the floor, and Lars stood over him. Panting and sweating, he glared down at the man he’d punished brutally. It wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. Lars hauled him up by his collar, and then, as realization of a vengeance turned too bitter struck him, Lars let him drop to the floor with a thud. He picked up the snakeskin cane and broke the hideous stick over his knee.

He stood, his own chest heaving, as he fought for self-control. Never had he unleashed personal hatred against a foe. Never had he felt such a disregard if his enemy lived or died—that punishment was the most important part of the battle. He shook his head, sweat running down his face, and stared at his battered hands. He didn’t really feel anything of the pain his mind knew was there, just a weary acknowledgement that nothing he could ever do would truly avenge Sophie.

And now he had to figure out how to keep the villain from Sophie for all time. A damn shame his personal creed forbid killing except as the last resort. He stood over the body, wondering what to do. And then a slow smile lit his face. He thought the bastard was barely alive enough to travel. He’d send him on his yacht and under guard as a present to the Caliph of Constantinople. He’d make a noteworthy scribe and Ibn Saud would be delighted to get a man of such learning. If Ibn Saud decided to castrate the brute Lars wouldn’t object. A valuable slave might even soften the Caliph’s anger a little toward Lars. Damned if he hadn’t missed his discussions with his former friend.

Yes. Definitely one of his better ideas. With a grin, he called his mother to send some servants to collect Mallory. He’d no fear for his servants—Mallory was incapable of moving.

He turned slowly to Sophie. He had so much to explain and apologize for.

Before he could say anything, a disheveled redheaded man rushed to Sophie. “Are you all right, Sophia? I got worried when you didn’t come out of the auditorium.”

Lars breathed a sigh of relief. Evidently the auditorium was fairly soundproof, which he must admit he’d counted on. But he didn’t at all like the worshipful way this young man looked at Sophie. At least she’d not told him the name she preferred. A good thing, he didn’t care to pound another man to a pulp quite so soon. He folded his arms over his chest and moved a little closer to his love. Ben didn’t notice, but Sophie did.

She took Lars’ sleeve and smiled up at him.

“Ben is a promising mathematician, Lars. I’ve always enjoyed talking to him at professional meetings.”

Lars suddenly grinned at her and, reaching out, shook Ben’s hand. “Any professional friend of Sophie’s is a friend of mine.”

Ben looked bewildered, flushed a bright red, muttered something while looking longingly at Sophie, muttered something else and wandered off. He’d never even noticed the body on the floor. Sophie flashed an indignant glance at Lars and started to turn away. Lars grabbed her sleeve.

He was on fire with desire, his whole system demanding he prove himself and Sophie were alive after mortal danger. He’d never doubted he could conquer Mallory, but he’d greatly feared Sophie would be injured before he could get free to come to her. Lars grabbed her and spun her around.

“You’re mine, Sophie. Always and forever mine.”

He held her head between his hands and kissed her with all the passion surging through his system. At first she resisted and then, as he continued his ardent kisses, she responded more hotly than ever before. His passion increased, the aching familiarity of her kisses he’d denied himself flaming the fire in his already burning body.

He looked frantically around. He could hear no voices, so the other delegates must have gone home or at least to another room. Mentally checking Mallory for an instant, he was satisfied the man wouldn’t wake any time soon, and by then his men would have him secured. For now one of the auditorium chairs would have to do for him and his love.

He picked up Sophie in one fluid motion, reaching under her skirt, checking her drawers for the convenient slit he counted on. Retaining a one-armed hold on her, he settled himself in one of the chairs, opening his trousers with one hand to free his rampant cock. Then he pulled Sophie over and down on him, entering her body with a whoosh of relief.

She came instantly, muffling her shriek against his shirt.

“Lars, I want more. That wasn’t nearly enough.”

She withdrew to reach for his cock and run her hand up and down his erection. Certainly the largest one he’d ever had, and knowing he might explode too soon, he batted her hand away and plunged into her again.

Her sounds of pleasure hummed through his raging body, as he began to lift her up and down on him, fearful he’d climax before he could arouse her as much as he wanted. He needn’t have worried. Sophie, as anxious as he, spurred by the same elemental relief from danger, was beyond needing more than the actual joining of their bodies.

He held himself back until cords stood out on his forehead, and his body shook around hers. She wanted none of his delay. She used all her muscles to increase the intensity of his thrusts. Powerless to do anything but claim her, he muffled his shout in her hair and came with explosive force such as he’d never known. Holding her beloved body tight on his, he sat, not wanting to ever withdraw. Sophie seemed utterly content, her head on his shoulder, a smile on her lips. Unfortunately they couldn’t continue without running a serious risk of a cleaner or someone else coming into the room. In fact, he thought his elfin luck must have helped protect them the last few minutes.