It's a long and lonely road, but Merlin is a patient man. It's now the 21st century and when the earth begins to groan with earthquakes, Merlin knows the situation is anything but natural.
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An eruption is imminent, but something—or someone—is forcing this volcano to erupt. Merlin must use his concealed talents and practiced charisma to save a town of innocent people before disaster strikes. Flair for languages. Magic powers. Merry Lytton, or Merlin as he was once known, has been waiting for the return of his friend King Arthur for centuries. It's an eventful wait: only weeks ago, he stopped a wicked plot to magically erupt a nearby volcano. Merry's latest worry is the revelation of his immortality -- his modern-day friends are a little too curious.
They do not need to know he has a history that could fill a library. Unknown to Merlin, the organization Potestas is furious at his geologic meddling, and an enraged member of the group is determined to wreak vengeance. For the first time in Merlin's ancient life, he must confront an enemy that is vastly more powerful than himself.
An immortal who might finally have met his match. Their mission is to gain unimaginable powers, and their charismatic leader has welcomed Merry but keeps a close eye on him.
He fears for his sanity when bodiless voices start taking over his mind. Against voices in his head and hostile spirits in the sea, can Merry stop Potestas before they unwittingly trigger a tsunami of epic proportions? What are centuries-old secrets worth? Potestas is determined to gain unimaginable powers for its members, and Merry holds the key to unlocking this ambition. And then let her know in no uncertain terms that they would be seeing each other again. Another night?
Breathless (King, #2) by Tawdra Kandle
Then what? I realize this may not have gone the way you wanted, but you have to appreciate the irony of her being the one to walk away. She made it a hell of a lot easier on us. It took every ounce of control not to lash out at his best friend. He turned and stalked back into the bedroom to get dressed. He yanked on his pants and shirt, not bothering to shower or shave. He had no idea how long ago Bethany had left and he wanted to make sure he questioned the staff in the lobby and the doorman. His mind was already working through his options when he walked back through on his way to the door.
Jace paused and turned to see Ash still standing in the living room, a troubled expression on his face. Without waiting for a response, Jace turned and left the room. He got on the elevator and stabbed the button for the lobby and simmered with impatience as he waited for the doors to close. Maybe he had. Lust was uninvolved. Lust was about sex and sating a need. Physical release with no emotional involvement. And yet how could he possibly think he had an emotional connection to Bethany when he knew nothing about her?
He stepped off the elevator with purpose.
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She may have run, but he was damn well going to haul her back. Half an hour later, he was ready to put his fist through a wall. The doorman reported seeing her walk out of the hotel just after dawn. It was half raining, half snowing and it was goddamn cold. What frustrated him even more was that he wanted to track down the catering service and demand information on Bethany, but it was Sunday, which meant that until Monday, he was screwed. Jace got out of his car after telling his driver to circle and wait and then pulled up the collar of his coat to prevent the drizzle from sliding down his neck.
It would be getting dark soon, a fact that aggravated him, not because of the approaching evening, but because it had taken him all day to gather the information he wanted. And it had taken until now to track her down. The only information the catering service had on file was her full name and this address.
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Had Bethany listed another employer as her contact information? He ducked inside the door and shook off the rain. An older woman looked up from where she sat at a desk a short distance from the door, alarm in her eyes. His gaze swept the interior, taking in the smallness, the sparseness of the room—and it was merely a room.
Cots filled most of the space. There was a sitting area toward the back, with a dilapidated couch and a few odd chairs situated around a television. There were maybe ten women in view and he was struck by how subdued they were.
They ranged in age from very young to quite old and they all had a tired, hopeless look to their eyes that made his gut seize. Was this what his Bethany did? Did she volunteer her time here and then work odd jobs when she could for extra money? He felt a surge of pride. He remembered her reaction to the notion that they were somehow paying her for sex.
Ash had been right about one thing. It was usually them ending things with women. Never once had they had a woman walk away from them with no expectation for what she could gain monetarily. Even with his coat on, the inside of the shelter felt chilly to him. His gaze narrowed when he saw that most of the occupants wore more than one layer of clothing.
Even the older woman standing in front of him had a jacket and gloves on.
The woman looked startled. And then she laughed. He blinked, not expecting that kind of response. It went out last week. All we have are a few portable heating units, and we use those at night so the women can at least sleep warm. He extended his hand. My name is Jace Crestwell, and yes, there is something you can help me with.
Her name is Bethany Willis.