IK3 (19 page)

morning with extra coins in their pocket and a programmed memory that

some stranger had been generous.

When the door opened, both Chloe and her mother stepped out. Chloe eyed

his glasses and he hoped she would not make any comments on vampires.

Until he could figure out if “Jennifer” really was Genievre, he’d prefer to keep

talk of any kind of immortals out of the conversation.

“I am glad you could join us, Ms. Whitney.”

“Please call me Jennifer,” she said, “and thank you for inviting me.”

“My pleasure.” Gavin had still not seen any look of recognition from her, but

spending some time with her—much as he usually avoided anyone’s

relatives—was the only way to determine who—or what—she really was.

“Mom can guide us,” Chloe added, linking her arm to her mother’s. “Where

shall we start?”

“Let’s go to Buena Vista Park,” Jennifer said. “The view is spectacular from

there. Maybe I’ll get a sense of which area to search.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Are you a psychic?”

“Not a dependable one,” Jennifer answered with a smile. “Sometimes, I get

impressions or images of things that don’t seem to have any connection to

the present day or to what I’m doing.”

“You see things from the past?”

“Do you mean ghosts?” Chloe asked.

“No. I meant do these visualizations seem to be set in the past?”

Jennifer knit her brows. “I’m not sure exactly. They’re not complete scenes

or anything. Just stuff that drifts through my mind at totally unexpected

times.” She glanced up at him. “I don’t talk about it much. I’m not even sure

why I mentioned it just now.”

“She’s not crazy either,” Chloe said defensively, “even though some people

get all freaked out even with just the Tarot.”

“I was not entertaining that idea,” Gavin said. “Scotland Yard has been

known to use psychics, although it is done overtly.”

“I tried helping the police once with a serial rapist that was loose,” Jennifer

said, “but I can’t control when the pictures come. I’m not sure if it’s a gift or

a curse.”

Or perhaps it really was the past she was seeing. Gavin had not been able to

detect any scent of evil from her. Tasting her blood would help, but he could

hardly attempt what he had on Morgan. However, if Balor were searching for

Genievre, they really should not extend this visit. Gavin had little doubt that

Sigurd would attempt to locate Chloe.

They walked down the hill and turned right on Haight. Unlike most women

Gavin knew, Chloe didn’t seem much interested in the exclusive boutiques

and trendy restaurants, but she practically danced as they got into grittier

area of vintage clothing stores and second-hand shops.

“That’s where Mom works,” she said, pointing down a side street toward a

small shop with a New Age motif and a flag of deep blue with silver crescent

moon and stars. “Maybe we can stop in on the way back.”

“Perhaps,” Gavin said noncommittally. He was getting a strange sense of

being followed, although when he turned around all he saw were shoppers

milling about, but a crowd was the perfect place for a spy to hide.

They continued the few blocks to the park, Gavin glancing over his shoulder

at intervals, and climbed the steep trail leading upward.

“Isn’t this cool?” Chloe asked when they reached the small grassy area at

the top of the hill. She spread her arms and twirled. “Look—you can see the

bridge and Golden Gate Park over there and the ocean. I don’t think I’ll ever

get tired of seeing the water.” She ran over to the eastern area. “And down

there is China Town and Union Square.”

“And the Mission District,” her mother said. “Mission Dolores was originally

named for Frances of Assisi, but the Californios dubbed it Dolores because of

the name of a nearby creek.” She turned to Gavin. “If you think this platter

may be in plain site, you could start there, although I don’t remember

seeing anything like that. Still, it’s the oldest intact building in Frisco, dating from the 1780’s.”

“The Indians back then ran around naked,” Chloe added.

Gavin started. “What?”

“Yeah. The men only wore small capes of skins and feathers on their

shoulders and the women had short little skirt-like things hanging from their

waists.” She grinned impishly. “And it gets cold here.”

“Did you get this from a history book, Miss Whitney?” Gavin asked as he

tried to banish the thought of Chloe bare-breasted with nipples beaded into

hard little knots from the cold wind—or from his warm mouth. Damn it. The

little minx had conjured up that image on purpose.

She blinked at him innocently. “I grew up here. Not everything is in a history

book.”

“There’s also the De Young Museum in Golden Gate Park,” Jennifer said

seemingly not aware that her daughter had not just put erotic thoughts into

his head that were multiplying rapidly. “Other than that, I’m not feeling

anything.”

Her mother might not be feeling anything, but Gavin certainly was. His groin

had tightened painfully at the image of Chloe he couldn’t shake. Worse, he

caught a whiff of her unique female scent as she swept by him and

proceeded down the hill.

****

“And just why are we taking this little detour?” Gavin asked the next day as

they left Walton Square and walked down Pacific Avenue. “We’re supposed

to be looking for the platter.”

“Well, Mission Dolores didn’t pan out yesterday, did it? We’re now in the

Barbary Coast area,” Chloe said. “This was where the first shiploads of gold-

rushers arrived. Maybe one of your Priory guys was on one of them.”

“And you thought he might just bury the platter as soon as he got on dry

ground?”

Gavin’s voice sounded neutral and Chloe wished she could see his eyes to

know if his expression was serious, but he had those blasted shades on

again. Geez. Fog hung over the area dense enough to make English pea

soup and he wore dark glasses? How super-sensitive could his eyes be

anyhow?

“I don’t know, but this street was one of the first trails cut through these

hills from the wharf to the original settlement near Portsmith Square. It is

possible that the platter could have been taken there, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Gavin said as a peroxide-overdosed woman in stilettos,

fishnets, and a skimpy, silver lame dress that made her look like a baked

potato teetered toward them, an inviting smile on her heavily made-up face.

She tried brushing against Gavin except he moved with lightning speed to

avoid the contact. Bright red lips turned into a pout before she moved on.

“Well, that hasn’t changed,” Chloe said as they continued to walk. “This

whole area was known for dance halls, saloons, and licentious debauchery

back then. I guess with over thirty thousand men descending on the place,

working girls made a pretty good living. ”

Gavin shrugged. “There are camp followers everywhere.”

What an odd term for him to use. Almost medieval. “Yeah, well. The

tradition hasn’t completely died out. This—” Chloe pointed to the street sign

as they turned left on Montgomery, “was where the first topless bars opened

here in the Sixties, according to Mom.”

“Interesting.”

Again, Chloe couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Gavin was

probably used to having women fall all over him. Morgan had certainly

latched on and Chloe noticed both the covert and more openly aggressive

looks of other women since they’d first arrived at the airport. Not that she

could blame them. With his long, dark hair, trademark black turtleneck and

jeans that outlined a fantastically sculpted body a woman couldn’t help but

notice. Chloe was not immune either, damn it. Surprisingly, though, Gavin

seemed oblivious to the inviting looks.

Lord, the British were a stoic lot.

They reached Portsmith Square a short time later. Although pretty, it offered

no more of a clue than anything else had. “There’s a Buddist church over

there,” Chloe said. “I think it’s the biggest one in the States. Maybe we

should take a look?”

“Why not?”

Chloe stepped off the curb to cross the street when a MoPed cut the corner

short, nearly side-swiping her. Before she could react, Gavin’s strong hands

lifted her out of harm’s way, setting her on the sidewalk.

“Are you all right?’ he asked as the cyclist sped away without even looking

back.

Her body thrilled from the brief touch he’d made. It took her mind a few

seconds to register what had happened and how quickly he’d reacted. Gavin

so rarely got close, let alone touching her, that she wished she could have

extended that moment.

“You’re not going to swoon, are you?”

“I’m fine.” Chloe said to hide the fact that her body still tingled.

If only she were the swooning type.

****

handed it to Chloe as they walked outside. “I am beginning to think my

theory of the platter being hidden in the open might be flawed.”

“Well, Mom said she didn’t recall seeing anything at either the mission or

here that resembled what you think the platter looks like,” Chloe replied.

Gavin refrained from saying he knew exactly what the platter looked like.

He’d seen it once. Merlin had brought it to court, along with some

candlesticks, just before Galahad set out on his quest for the Grail. The

sorcerer said both had been used in some sort of visionary procession that

would help find the Grail. Even though no one had been allowed to touch it

except Galahad, Gavin had felt its power resonating.

He hoped he’d be able to detect that feeling again if he got close to it.

“Did you know Golden Gate Park is larger than Central Park in New York?”

Chloe asked. “Or that it has buffalo?”

He had a hunch Chloe was trying to make him feel better. When was it that

he’d noticed she was almost always cheerful? He glanced at her orange hair

with it strange pink strands, more spiked than ever with the strong winds

blowing off the water and at her large eyes the color of the bay and forced a

smile. “I do not think I have ever seen a buffalo.” And, he realized, he

hadn’t. Not in the nearly fifteen hundred years of existence. His time had all

been spent in Europe.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re kidding! Tell you what—let’s rent some

horses and ride by their paddock!”

He was about to refuse since his senses still told him danger lurked

somewhere close and the sooner they left the area the better, but the idea

of getting on a horse again was nearly irresistible. All the knights had been

superior horsemen. “I suppose an hour or so will not interfere with the travel

plans.”

Ten minutes later they were mounted and headed down a bridle trail toward

the buffalo area. God’s blood, it felt good to be back in the saddle, even if

his horse was not a spirited stallion ready to run like the wind. This wasn’t a

battlefield; people weren’t supposed to get hurt.

Chloe had taken the lead on the fairly narrow path and Gavin had to remind

himself which century he was in. His basic instinct was to lead, not follow,

but then he realized he had the privilege of watching her delectable bottom

bounce in the saddle as her mare began trotting. A vision of Chloe naked,

astride him, her bottom slapping against his belly, breasts bouncing as she

rode him hard made him grip the saddle with his thighs. His horse tossed its

head, picking up the signal to run.

“Easy,” he soothed and circled the animal around. The horse had more spirit

than he realized and it wanted to run. It probably didn’t get much of a

chance. Gavin held him back, waiting for Chloe to put some distance

between them, so he could let the horse gallop to catch up. The gelding

pranced in place, anticipating. “Soon,” Gavin said, rubbing his neck. “Soon.”

His acute hearing picked up the sound only seconds before two motorcycles

careened around the bend, heading straight for Chloe. Her startled mare

reared and she slipped backwards, hitting the ground with a thud.

The cycles skidded to a stop, one of the fully-helmeted men jumping off to

pull a disoriented Chloe up toward him.

Gavin’s fangs elongated and he was on the man like a flash of lightning.

Grabbing the leather collar of his jacket, he flung him aside and turned to

the other rider, barring his teeth. The man throttled up and sped off. His

partner crawled to his bike and followed him. Every instinct told Gavin to

follow them, but Chloe was hurt.

He sank down beside her as she groaned. “Sit still. Let me make sure

nothing is broken.” Sliding his hands over her shoulders and slender arms,

he felt her tremble. He was all too aware of the heavy fullness of her breasts

as his fingers felt her ribs. Forcing himself to concentrate, he ran his hands

down the sides of her thighs, resisting the urge to explore anything closer to

where he would like to be. He began to sweat, even though the day was

cool. Where was the Templar discipline when he needed it?

Chloe trembled again and Gavin drew her close. Her arms went around his

neck, clinging as her soft, round breasts pressed against him. He drank in