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Chapter One
An eerie skittering sound bounced off the rocks around them. Lorcan shielded his eyes against the Greek sun, as blindingly bright now in 1000 BC Mykonos as it was the last time he’d visited in his own time. Cautiously, he glanced up expecting to see the gorgon he and Fiona had followed up this craggy incline, but it was only a tenacious mountain goat presently staring him straight in the eye. At least it wasn’t a satyr. Those half-goat half-man beasts were usually arseholes.
The goat bleated, protesting the invasion of his terrain. Then it changed to an aggressive stance, attempting to head-butt him. Lorcan lowered his head, too.
“You wanna go? I don’t have your gnarly horns, but I should warn you I’m half demon.”
“Seriously? You’re havin’ a pissin’ contest with a goat?” Fiona called from farther down the cliff face.
He laughed at that but jumped back when a stream of stones cascaded down, barely missing his head. “Hey! That’s playing dirty. Guess you’re an arsehole, too.”
When part of the narrow ledge he was standing on broke away, Lorcan wobbled, quickly redistributing his weight. Now he’d lost sight of the damn gorgon they were pursuing and the reason they were here in the first place.
“Lorcan, be careful!” Fiona warned. “Besides, I swear I just spotted it down by the water.”
Odd; gorgons couldn’t typically move that fast. Plus, they disliked water. On occasion they’d been known to catch their reflection and turn to stone—their lives ended by their own legendary power.
“Weird, right?” Fiona spoke to him telepathically.
Lorcan was still amazed at how well he and his partner worked together. They’d turned hunting dangerous supernatural creatures—locating and assessing magical beings, according to their employer—into a fine art. Being so in tune with each other when on assignments was crucial…and in bed, it was bloody fantastic.
“That’s not where your mind should be just now, Junior,” she scolded aloud. Maybe she’d heard his thoughts or seen his undoubtedly desirous expression.
He grinned and she smiled back—that beautiful, sensuous smile reserved only for him when they were alone. It lightened his heart, no matter how dire the situation.
“Hopefully, after we’ve dealt with the MB and we’re safe at ground level,” she switched back to telepathy, “we’ll have some alone time before returning to LAMB headquarters.”
The hunts weren’t always deadly; they spared those that were merely mischievous. But others, LAMB insisted be rectified—the word the mealy-mouthed bigwigs preferred over killed.
It was soul-crushing work; making love was how they recovered.
Lorcan couldn’t wait to get naked with Fiona but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand: the gorgon. Most people, even those well-read in Greek mythology, believed there were only three gorgons—Medusa and her lesser-known sisters. But as a LAMB agent, and an MB himself, Lorcan had learned that a hell of a lot of beliefs regarding supernatural phenomenon were misunderstood or outright wrong.
There were other gorgons, none as infamous as the three sisters, but just as deadly. There were even male gorgons. All were famous for having snakes for hair…and the ability to turn anyone who looked at them to stone.
He and Fiona had been sent back to ancient Greece after the monitors tracked by Dewey, one of LAMB’s young genius scientists, showed some serious anomalies in the past few weeks, including people, animals, and mythical creatures, who’d either fallen or been pushed from a cliff somewhere in this general area during this timeline.
When they’d come through LAMB’s time portal and arrived here in ancient Greece, they found a macabre collection of body parts resembling a sculptor’s studio after an earthquake.
“What the hell is that?” Fiona called.
The hint of fear in her voice caught Lorcan’s attention. Fiona was a badass agent—not much rattled her. He tried to follow her gaze, but the jutting rock blocked his view.
He shifted and—fuck!—the precarious ledge completely gave way.
“Lorcan!” Fiona screamed.
Good thing she wasn’t directly below him or he’d have taken her along on this fan-fucking-tastic plunge.
As the ground rushed up at him, he unsheathed his sword and, with demon superstrength, he drove the weapon into the rock. The abrupt stop slammed his right hip against the mountain but the pain—and his relief—were short-lived, as his weapon snapped, sending him plummeting again. He dropped the useless half-sword and scrambled for purchase until he clung, thirty feet above the ground, by fingers and toe tips, heedless of the rock slicing his palm.
Should he just let himself fall?
He’d probably survive. He had unnatural dexterity and healed fast, but breaking his legs was a possibility he’d rather not risk. After spending weeks in hospital last fall, he’d gladly avoid a repeat.
He looked up again. Fiona, her face etched with worry, inched down toward him.
“Be careful, Fiona,” he hollered. “Don’t break your neck on my account.”
He’d never forgive himself if she died trying to save him. And the thought of living without her—well that wasn’t an option.
He heard her snap her fingers and instantly she appeared beside him, hovering midair. She gripped him tightly.
“Okay. I’ve got you, Lorcan. You can let go.”
He released his handhold, accepting Fiona’s assistance, and in a flash they landed near the shoreline.
He wished his competitive nature would just piss off for once. But it wounded his male pride that Fiona seldom needed him to protect her. In fact, she saved his arse as much or more than the other way around.
She pressed her palm to her throat, then slapped his arm.
“Dammit, Lorcan! You nearly scared the shite out of me.”
“Believe me. I didn’t fall to get your attention.” He probably sounded unappreciative.
Then he saw the tears in her eyes.
“Sorry.” He kissed her forehead then shook his injured hand. “Thanks for coming to the rescue, Boomer, but would you let me be the hero some of the time?”
Hopefully humor would hide the fact he was bummed that she’d needed to save him.
Fiona liked it when he used the nickname. He’d started calling her Boomer the day they began working together—a partnership they’d both adamantly opposed. Then, he’d used the term sarcastically, to highlight her age. She’d not-so-fondly called him a hedonistic sex fiend. They had a complicated family history—she loathed his demonic father and he hated witches. They’d journeyed from partners to friends to lovers and now, he said it with affection.
She cocked her head. “Is something wrong, my love?”
He shrugged.
This wasn’t a competition. They both had awesome supernatural abilities. He should be happy he wasn’t lying at the cliff bottom, bloody and broken. If he’d been working solo—like the old days—he could be in excruciating pain till LAMB sent another agent to find him. He was glad Fiona had thwarted that.
For fuck’s sake! He was above this petty male pride thing.
She must’ve sensed his feelings of inadequacy.
“Never doubt you’re my hero.” She looked at him, her eyes misty, then pulled his head down and kissed him full-on.
“Let’s deal with this pesky gorgon ASAP,” he murmured, “so we can make love on the beach.”
Sex would no doubt get him out of his funk.
He kissed her again but when he sensed a presence he opened his eyes and felt his jaw drop. “What the actual fuck?”
He’d been trying to curb his use of profanities, but the approaching gigantic, multi-headed sea monster warranted an F-bomb.
Fiona turned toward the ocean. “That’s what I spotted earlier. But when I thought you were goin’ to fall to your death…dealin’ with dangerous creatures became second to savin’ my man.” She squeezed his good hand and he hugged her.
Lorcan viewed the serpent-like beast. “Is that a bloody Lernaean Hydra?”
“It matches the images from books in LAMB’s library. But a hydra in salt water?” She shrugged. “That doesn’t make sense.”
From what Lorcan recalled, they preferred swamps and were responsible for guarding the gate to the Underworld.
“And why,” Fiona continued, her Irish brogue thickening, “is it approachin’ the shore while the gorgon’s headin’ toward the water? Shouldn’t they be avoidin’ one another?”
Her accent always got stronger when she was emotional…or drunk. If she was frightened he’d happily comfort her.
Lorcan shook his head. “I might be bloody brilliant and nearly impossible to stump, Boomer.” He snorted. “But something really fucking strange is going on.”
Fiona gave him another smile. “Stranger than us travelin’ back three millennia to deal with mythological creatures?”
He curled his fingers around hers, reveling in how right her slender hand felt in his—but then every part of them fit together perfectly. Yeah. Being in love had him thinking about cheesy romantic clichés.
Shit, he’d better concentrate on the possibility their lives might be in danger and not act like a love-sick teen or a competitive jerk.
He gestured to the monstrous sea creature. “If that is a hydra, they’re supposed to be nearly impossible to kill. Didn’t we learn that in Murdering Mythological Monsters 101?”
They enjoyed creating amusing names for the ridiculous teaching modules LAMB agents were required to complete.
“Neutralizing a Nasty Nemesis for Dummies,” she replied, then grew serious again. “If we hack off one head two will grow before we’d get a chance to lop off the next.”
“Getting close enough to put a blade through its heart is unlikely if we want to keep our own heads.” Lorcan forced a laugh, but he was worried too.
“Your sword won’t be any help.” She glanced at his broken weapon at the bottom of the cliff.
He didn’t believe she was intentionally rubbing it in but it was true—he didn’t even have a weapon to defend himself, much less her. He’d have to rely on his supernatural abilities.
“If it doesn’t try to hurt us, maybe we won’t have to kill it. Locatin’ and assessin’ might be sufficient.”
He put his hand on his chin, contemplative. “I doubt a hydra’s ever uber friendly. That wasn’t mentioned in LAMB’s Handbook of Little-Known Facts About Magical Beings.”
“Gorgons are always deadly. Although she’s eyein’ you…like all females with a pulse do.” Fiona rolled her eyes. “She’d rather mate with you than kill you. At least before she kills you.”
He snorted again. “That’s a bloody appealing thought, Boomer.”
At one time he might’ve considered it. He had the unusually high sex drive and questionable scruples that came with demon lineage. He fought the latter and since he’d been with Fiona she’d kept him more than satisfied.
A mighty roar disrupted their conversation as the hydra tossed all nine of its heads. Was it threatening them or the gorgon? Lorcan had never heard of an encounter between a gorgon and a hydra, even though they were both legendary in Greek mythology.
“Could a hydra survive on land?” he asked.
Fiona shrugged. “Maybe for a while. Are they amphibian? Or reptile? I never minded snaky creatures before. But after everything that happened with Jaycee, I’m not thrilled about havin’ to deal with the gorgon or the hydra.”
Lorcan nodded again. He abhorred Jaycee Orm and her serpentine lineage, too. Months earlier the devious, manipulative LAMB employee had caused a shitload of trouble. She’d tried to kill Fiona and nearly messed up the entire history of Scotland. It irked him that all she’d gotten was a slap on the wrist—a few damn weeks wearing an ankle monitor. She should’ve gone to prison at the very least.
Lorcan would’ve guiltlessly ended her life himself, for he worried she’d cause more problems, but Henry Dalton seemed hesitant to issue appropriate punishment. Hell—their usually levelheaded boss had the nerve to take her to their company Halloween party. As a reward for good behavior, he’d explained. What a crock of shit!
Lorcan had once engaged in an ill-advised fling with Jaycee. Brief and purely sexual, it ended almost before it started but the forked-tongued woman still had a thing for him. He wasn’t sure where she’d been the past few months and frankly he’d be glad to never see her again.
He hoped she wasn’t scheming something insidious. Given her loathing for Fiona, he hated to think what she might do if she learned they were together.
He didn’t have long to dwell on that. The huge water beast pushed up on shore just as the gorgon stepped toward the water. The disturbing snakes on the gorgon’s head writhed like they might strike the large beast.
Lorcan crossed his arms as he and Fiona stood mostly hidden by large boulders. “I’d put money on the hydra.”
“You’re probably right,” Fiona replied. “But size and strength don’t always prevail over supernatural powers.”
Was that another dig at him? He was almost a foot taller than her and likely eighty pounds heavier. But they both had magical abilities.
Just then the multi-headed creature opened one of its many sets of jaws and snapped at the gorgon. But when the gorgon stared into its eyes, the head turned to stone. The head next to it snarled and promptly bit off the snakes squirming around the smaller creature’s face.
The stunned gorgon let out a bloodcurdling scream—the sound waves visible like a sci-fi film with special effects. Fiona shuddered. Lorcan clamped his hands over his ears. Sometimes he bloody hated his amplified demon hearing. When the hydra’s second head turned to stone, the third snarled, grabbed the gorgon in its jaws and shook her, then the fourth head eagerly assisted as they viciously tore her in half and began devouring.
The spurting blood and gnawing sounds were disturbing. Fiona, looking a little green, put her hand over her mouth. But the horror was just beginning as, even dead, the gorgon’s eyes evidently maintained some supernatural power. First, the two gore-soaked heads slowed their carnage, grew still and turned to stone. Then, like a grisly game of dominos, the one next to it, and the next, and the next, all suffered the same fate, until the hydra became solid stone and the massive beast thudded onto its side, hurling a wall of sand at them.
As some of the heads snapped off and flew at them, he yanked Fiona out of the way and fell upon her, shielding her with his body.
She wrinkled her nose. “Did you do that only as an excuse to lie on top of me?”
Truth was—he needed to ground himself by touching her. No matter how big, strong, and tough he was, something like this shook him.
Fiona was trembling, too. Lorcan put on a brave front as his heart slowed to a normal rate.
“You doubt my noble intentions, woman?” He tickled her and she squirmed.
“Stop that!” She laughed.
Then he flipped her over so that she was sitting above him.
He winked. “You look damn hot when you’re on top, too.”
Fiona blushed, then glimpsed the gruesome gorgon remnants and the broken stone hydra and grimaced. “I guess we’ll call that a draw.” It was an unsettling sight.
“Jesus, we’ve been doing it all wrong, Boomer.” He was banking on humor easing the abhorrence of what they’d just witnessed. “From now on we’ll just hope one supernatural creature shows up and kills the other. We can stand by watching, then go for a swim and make love like we’re on holiday.”
Fiona moved from atop him and winced. He stood and held out his hand to help her up. Her knee was playing up again.
“I like the sound of that, my darlin’,” she agreed.
She undid the bun at the nape of her neck and shook the sand from her shiny hair, looking sexy as hell. “But don’t you get the feelin’ that somethin’ isn’t right?”
Lorcan scanned the horizon and glanced up at the rocky cliffs where they’d been. “The gorgon’s dead, so there shouldn’t be any more incidents of people turning to stone. I’d say mission accomplished. But before we go back and have to fill out bloody endless reports…” He groaned, for he loathed paperwork. “Can’t we at least have a little fun?”
End of Excerpt
