Reign Of Gods (Book #1 in 'Vampire God Trilogy') [COMPLETED]

Chapter 6

Before she packed, Glenna took the time to cleanse the entire loft. Hoyt
didn‟t disagree. She wanted no trace of what they‟d touched on, no echoes,
no dregs of that darkness in her home.

In the end, she put her tools and books back in the chest. After what
she‟d seen, what she‟d felt, she wasn‟t going to risk the pick and choose. She was taking the whole lot, along with her travel case, most of her crystals, some basic art supplies, cameras, and two suitcases.

She cast one longing look at the easel standing near the window, and
the barely started painting resting on it. If she came back—no when, she
corrected. When she came back, she would finish it.

She stood beside Hoyt, studying the pile of belongings as he did.

“No comments?” she asked. “No arguments or sarcastic remarks about
how I intend to travel?”

“To what end?”

“A wise stand. Now there‟s the little matter of getting all this out of
here, uptown and into your brother‟s place. At which time, I doubt he‟ll be as wise as you. But first things first.”

She toyed with her pendant as she
considered. “Do we haul it all by hand, or try a transportation spell? I‟ve
never done anything of this scope.”

He sent her a bland look. “We‟d need three of your cabs and most of
what we have left of the day to deal with all of this.”

So, he considered the situation as well. “Visualize Cian‟s apartment,”
he ordered. “The room where you slept.”

“All right.”

“Concentrate. Bring it fully into your mind, the details, the shape, the
structure.”

She nodded, closed her eyes. “I am.”

He chose the chest first as he sensed it held the most power. Its magic
would aid him in the task. He circled it three times, then reversed, circled
again while he said the words, while he opened himself to the power.

Glenna struggled to fix her focus. There was something deeper, richer
about his voice, something erotic in the way it spoke the ancient tongue. She felt the heat of what he stirred on her skin, and in her blood. Then a swift and solid punch of air.

When she opened her eyes, the chest was gone.

“I‟m impressed.” More honestly, she was amazed. She was capable,
with considerable preparation and effort, of transporting small, simple
objects some distance. But he‟d simply and efficiently poofed a two-hundred- pound chest.

She could picture him now, in billowing robes on the cliff he‟d spoken of in Ireland. Challenging the storm, charging himself with it. And facing what no man should have to face, with faith and with magic.

Her belly tightened with sheer and simple lust.

“Was that Gaelic you were speaking?”

“Irish,” he said, so obviously distracted, she didn‟t speak again.

Once more he circled, focusing now on the cases that contained her
photography and art equipment. She nearly yipped a protest, then reminded herself to have faith. Calling on it, she closed her eyes again, brought the guest room back into her mind. Gave him what she could of her own gift.

It took him fifteen minutes to accomplish what she was forced to admit would have taken her hours, if she could have managed it at all.

“Well that was... that was something.”