Invincible: The Curse of Avalon #4

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Invincible: The Curse of Avalon #4 Page 8

by Skye, Sariah


  “Goodness…an eagle shifter? I haven’t seen one of those in years.” Mordred said, seeming amazed as Trystan touched down and began to shift back into his human form, with his nice backside facing everyone instead of his front. I noticed that Mordred’s gaze curiously hovered over it a bit too long, and I thrust Trystan’s pants at him.

  “You didn’t kill him?” I retorted as he slid them over his legs and waist, going commando since his boxers were probably on the living room floor right now. I may have conveniently forgotten to grab them. Whoops.

  “Och, no. The bastard is slippery.” Trystan turned and glanced at me impishly. “Besides, I did do a good job with the manscaping, don’t you think?”

  I chuckled, trying not to blush as I forced myself to look away from his…umm…package. Yes, he really did. “This is not a conversation for everyone, is it?”

  Trystan shrugged dismissively. “Eh, I don’t mind. If we’re comparing dicks—”

  “—there is no comparison,” Mathias finished for him, smiling sweetly.

  “You’re right. There’s not,” Xander deadpanned, and dismissed everyone as he sauntered inside Morgaine’s cottage like the cocky bastard he was. Pun intended. “Coming?” He asked pointedly, raising a brow.

  “Well, not now but maybe later…” I smiled sweetly at him, and his eyes briefly darkened with lust as I followed him into the cottage, everyone else was close behind.

  “Naughty, naughty minx…” Xander didn’t give two shits that we were now in front of my mother, as he pulled me into him and leaned over to kiss over my neck, making me laugh quietly.

  “Aw, isn’t that sweet?” My mother’s voice chimed in. “I’m glad to see everything worked out with all of you after all.”

  “Was there any doubt?” Mathias inquired sternly, as he and the other guys filed in, with Mordred bringing up the rear and Rhys teleporting in, looking foreboding with a ball of magic in his hand as he narrowed his brown eyes at Morgaine.

  “Certainly not,” Morgaine replied casually. She sat in a chair by a small fireplace and a candle, reading a book. I snorted when I realized it was one of the trashy romance novels she liked so much. And then it took me aback. How much of who Marian Dawson was a lie, and how much was really Morgaine? Was there any part of my mother still in there? Or was it all an act?

  “I’m guessing you’re here for a reason, Avie-baby,” my mother retorted, setting the book down on a nearby table, and folding her hands expectantly in her lap.

  “Do not call me that,” I threatened, feeling the rage boil inside. Morgaine, my mother, it didn’t matter: we needed something from her. The drumming the back of my mind, indicating my invisible magic was there, nearly rapped like thunder; it was angry and itching to come out. So, I flicked open my hand, willed the magic down my arm, and the air above my hand shimmered gently. “Don’t think I won’t use this. I have no love for you, Morgaine. Not after all you did.”

  “But, if it weren’t for me, Nimue would have captured you and then she’d be one step closer to summoning Camelot,” Morgaine protested. I sighed and relaxed my expression, but not the magic.

  From next to me Bash visibly cringed, rolling his head on his shoulders, obviously getting a rough dose of the magic I had. “Damn, Ava… that’s some extreme crap you have there.”

  “You have no idea,” I grumbled. “Here’s the thing. Okay, you did what you did in Alexandria—and I’m grateful.”

  “We all are,” Mathias cut in, and I nodded once at him in acknowledgment.

  “But, we know that if you did it, there was probably a reason that benefits you in some way or another, so… you’re not without your guilt,” Rhys said, coming up beside me, summoning his own magic in a sign of solidarity.

  I nodded over my shoulder at him. “What he said. And frankly, I don’t care. But you’re going to help us. You still owe me. I’m not above killing you after all you’ve done, Morgaine. I won’t make the same mistake I made with Nimue again.”

  Morgaine grinned, running her hands through her salt and pepper hair; it had quite a bit more “salt” in it than before, indicating that time had started to catch up with her. Aging was stopped in Avalon of course, but still. Her time on Earth without the vessel or…well me…clearly had taken its toll. “What can I do for you?” She balked, when Mordred stepped around the group, with a glare of his own.

  “So, after all this time. We finally meet.”

  Morgaine blinked in confusion, eyeing the “Dark Prince” carefully. “I… feel like I should know you. You are familiar somehow…something about you…”

  “You are acquainted with his parents,” Rhys replied dryly. “Allow me to introduce you to Mordred, son of Arthur and Nimue.” Rhys’ words made Morgaine flinch.

  “But that—you’re my—” She stammered, taken aback.

  “That’s right. Mordred is your nephew.”

  “Wait—what?” My mouth dropped open in surprise.

  “It’s true, Priestess,” Mordred said, with a flat smile.

  Bash ran his hands through his hair. “If Morgaine and Arthur are half siblings…then yeah, that makes you, Ava, and Mordred…cousins.”

  I gagged and pretended to retch—though it wasn’t really pretending. “Fuck me, that means Arthur is really my uncle.”

  “Shite…” Trystan echoed my disgusted sentiments.

  “Stars above…” I echoed Mathias’ favorite sentiment, and slapped my magic-free hand against my face. “Leave it to Avalon to keep it in the family, huh? Like some twisted, gnarled family tree that barely forks.”

  Mordred smirked gently. “Something like that.”

  Mathias rolled his eyes and stepped forward, past the rest of us, looking menacing as always in his tight black t-shirt and blue jeans—something he didn’t normally wear but still, it was hot as fuck. “That brings us to why we are here.”

  “And why is that? I figured this wasn’t a social call,” Morgaine kidded, with a roll of her eyes.

  “Hell no. We want to know about blood magic,” I said, and her face instantly paled.

  “You wouldn’t do it,” Morgaine said quickly. “Blood magic is—”

  “—we know, evil. We aren’t saying we’re going to do it, we just need to know about it,” Bash said, cutting her off with a gesture. “For all intents and purposes, there isn’t much out there. Even on the void web.”

  “Of course not,” Morgaine replied, bristling. “Because no one in their right mind uses it.”

  “Right, which brings us to you,” Rhys said, with a narrow of his eyes and a sneer at her.

  “We know you’re familiar with it. It was blood magic you used in the ritual to bind Avalon to Ava,” Bash implored, and Morgaine released a burdened sigh.

  “As I said you won’t do it. Blood magic is only useful when the blood is forcibly taken from someone. Something about the act of taking the life is what helps make it considerably more powerful. Most magic is about intent,” Morgaine explained, pausing after moment before cocking a brow. “You’re talking about Nimue, huh?”

  I glanced at the guys quickly, stammering out a sheepish, “Uhh…”

  Mathias sighed. “We think she is using Lachlan and Ava’s blood for… something. We just don’t know what, or why.”

  Morgaine flinched. “She didn’t get yours, did she, Merlin?”

  “Nope,” the wizard replied proudly.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

  “Doesn’t mean she won’t try to get it again,” I replied bitterly.

  “There are plenty of other uses for it, though. If you happen to have magical blood, it makes you more powerful. Just as powerful as the supe it originated from,” Morgaine explained. “It can tune you into their powers if they are still living after extracting it, as supes often are. With it she can make herself nearly invincible.”

  “Shite,” Trystan groused, shaking his head.

  “All magic has a weakness though,” Morgaine continued, flashing me a light wink. I
startled when Excalibur began to hum under my shirt. Morgaine eyed me suspiciously before her mouth twisted into a grin.

  “So anxious, Ava. What could be making you that way?” Her eyes tracked down to where my hand covered the spot over my heart where the shape-shifted blade now lay. She arched a brow, almost like she knew something.

  I could practically feel the guys’ eyes on me, boring questioning holes into my very mind, and my heart raced rapidly. I attempted to open my mouth but found I couldn’t.

  No one can know the secret, Ava. It’s spelled that way, I’m sorry.

  This was really complicating things.

  I shook myself out of my apprehensive stupor to gave my mother a bitter sneer. “I’m fine, just feeling wrong being in here with you.”

  Trystan snorted nearby in reply and the guys’ suspicious stares relaxed, obviously satisfied with that reasoning.

  You really need to shut up in there! I demanded to the sword in my head. You’re making me look crazy!

  How do you think I feel? I’m trapped in a sword.

  Touché.

  “So what exactly is that weakness?” Mathias inquired, his forehead pinched in a deep v that of stress as he ran a hand through his hair.

  We are. We are that weakness…

  “Who is ‘we’?” Bash asked, giving me a strange look.

  “And what is wrong with your voice?” Xander inquired.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

  “You just said ‘we are that weakness’. Who? Us?” Bash motioned to the group with a wide gesture. “And your voice got really deep.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” I insisted.

  “Yes, you did Ava,” Rhys said, with a pointed upturn of his brow and a stern mouth that indicated he might know what I was talking about.

  I bit my bottom lip. “I was kidding.”

  “Sure you were…” Rhys chuckled lightly.

  Morgaine looked at me hesitantly but continued after a moment’s thought. “Think about it. Blood magic is evil. It’s formed by death, and hate. What is the opposite of that?” Morgaine said.

  “Life, and love,” I replied, this time as myself.

  “Right. Avalon stands for all of that. Love of course,” she snickered, scanning the guys plus myself with a smug grin, “which you all know about well.”

  Mathias let out an uncomfortable cough, and shifted uneasily while his cheeks flamed bright red.

  “Oh stop, Septimus. Don’t deny it,” Morgaine insisted.

  He coughed again. “I don’t.”

  “What about life?” Bash asked. “I mean, I know that the isle has healing powers.”

  “Yes, but it also creates life. Fertility is also increased,” Morgaine paused, and eyed me suspiciously. “I’m surprised your little fiancée here isn’t knocked up already.” Now it was my turn to blush.

  “We take precautions for that,” Bash insisted quickly.

  Morgaine shrugged. “Right. Well, that is what I know. Rest assured though if Nimue is dabbling in blood magic—which I’ve no doubt she is—it requires an incredible amount of energy to sustain. She can use it on her ‘soldiers’ to make them even more difficult to kill. But that means there’s going to be a trail of death somewhere I would imagine if she’s getting ready to make her big move. Whatever that is.”

  “So basically you have nothing helpful for us?” Xander snapped, with a derisive snort.

  Morgaine bid him a sickly-sweet, saccharine smile that made my skin crawl. “Surely you must know, Jian, I’m a bit better than that.” Xander’s grimace wiped off his face as Morgaine appeared to look him over.

  “Oh hell no!” I shouted angrily, and without even fully realizing I was doing it I grabbed the blade at my chest, willed it into its full form and in one swift motion, I pointed it at my mother’s throat.

  “Shite!” Trystan exclaimed.

  “I am just messing with you, Ava,” she replied, her words strangled as I jabbed the sword at her with a bit more force. I felt it hum in my hand with a surge of power, and it glowed brighter the angrier I became.

  “Do not speak that way to him, about him, or any of them. You tortured them enough in the past,” I narrowed my eyes and snarled at her like a cat.

  “Ava… it’s okay.” I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I reacted quickly and instinctively by spinning on my heels and lifting Excalibur in front of me across my body in a defensive pose. Xander stood there, flinching severely watching the sword I held.

  “Crap. Sorry. Guess I’m just a bit jumpy,” I said, laughing uncomfortably and dropping the sword to my side.

  “Yeah, I’ll say,” he replied with a quirked brow and a gentle sideways grin.

  Mathias let out a low growl. “Enough of this. Do you know anything that can help us against Nimue’s army?”

  “Look no further than yourselves,” she replied. “And if you lack the numbers, you’ll have to outsmart her. Or find a way to bolster what you do have.”

  “How will we do that?” Bash exclaimed in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air. “She seems to know every single way to stick it to us.”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Morgaine said dismissively. “Surely the genius alchemist has some ideas.”

  Bash sighed.

  “She might be right. If you trust me, I can help you. I am not familiar with all of her spells, but I should know some,” Mordred offered, and Bash nodded reluctantly.

  Mathias’ hands flew to his hair in frustration. “Shit…” Without another word, he stomped off in a frustrated huff out of Morgaine’s cottage, the door slamming so loudly behind him we all jumped.

  “Guess we’re done here,” Bash muttered dryly, and we all started filing out after him, Rhys and I were the last to leave as my mother called out,

  “You’re welcome!”

  I scoffed derisively.

  “She’s… really something,” Mordred said uncomfortably, as we shuffled a few paces away from her cottage so we couldn’t be heard.

  “She’s batshit nuts,” Rhys replied quickly, and I nodded vigorously.

  “We’ll get started on the potions.” Bash said, flashing me a wink, brushing by me nonchalantly, grabbing a handful of my ass. I smirked at him and shook my head.

  “This is hopeless. The odds are completely against us,” Mathias groused with a tight jaw and clenched fists at his sides.

  No it is not. Trust me, remember? The sword spoke in my head, and I lifted it, eyeing its gentle golden glow and reveling in the way the warmth of the light permeated my body like a straight shot of potent whiskey: warm, and powerful.

  “Say…” I began thoughtfully. “Is there any way we can use the power of Excalibur? Multiply it somehow? Channel its magic?”

  Bash blew out a breath. “I’m not sure. I mean, it’s dragonmetal crafted. Perhaps if we knew a dragon that could do that…”

  “But we don’t,” Xander finished for him glumly.

  “Next idea!” Trystan blurted with snark.

  “Yeah but you can duplicate magic, right? Or channel others? Could you like, tap into it somehow and channel it into, I don’t know say maybe potions or something?” Rhys asked, and Bash’s eyes widened.

  “Maybe.” He squinted, eyeing the sword carefully.

  I snickered overconfidently at him. “You won’t need it, Sebastian.”

  Bash blanched and cocked his head. “What’s gotten into you Ava?”

  Stop speaking for me! I ordered the sword telepathically.

  “Dunno, too much screaming from last night, and the night before,” I said, flicking them a sly gaze and smug smile.

  Trystan immediately snickered. “I’ve got something that might make your throat feel better, luv.” He gave me a wicked smile.

  I didn’t need to hear that…

  Then get the fuck out of my head until it’s time to fight! You’re going to hear all sorts of disgusting things otherwise you probably aren’t going to want to hear!

  Per
haps that’s wise…

  I am losing my mind, I thought, not to the sword. I’m sure it heard me anyway.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to see Rhys just behind me. “Can you see anything, Bash?”

  He shook his head after another moment of concentration. “I’m not sure what I’m seeing, really. I see the same Avalon magic, but that’s not surprising. But anything else if I try to look too hard… I just get confused. Do you know why that is, Ava?” Bash inquired, regarding me with a curious tilt of his head.

  “Pffft. What would I know? I don’t know how this works,” I replied in protest.

  “You say you see Avalon magic, though?” Mathias asked, and Bash nodded. “Is there any way to take that magic and make something? Maybe a spell or talisman or potion for the army to make them more, I don’t know… formidable?”

  “Rest assured the rebels are adept fighters,” Mordred interjected. “However, they are human. But…”

  “But, what, laddie?” Trystan prompted impatiently.

  “Perhaps once we get over there, Bash can instruct the witch descendants in creating their own potions or talismans. Otherwise it’s going to be a massive undertaking for hundreds of fighters,” Mordred suggested, eyeing Bash questioningly.

  Bash had his arms folded over his chest, and he scratched his fingers over his stubbled jaw. “I think that could work. But we have to come up with something first.”

  “That’s what I’m here for, Sebastian. Lancelot said you were the best there was,” Mordred said, “surely between the two of us—”

  “—and me!” Rhys blurted, not wanting to be left out.

  “Yes, but first,” Mathias began sternly, “you need to help Ava with the sword fighting. And…” he sighed reluctantly, “as much as I hate to say it, Xander you help. But keep your hands to yourself!”

  Xander balked, offended. “It’s like you think I have no self-control!”

  Bash laughed sharply. “You don’t, that’s why you needed my help years ago.”

  Xander’s expression turned thunderous. He rose his hand and opened his fingers, revealing a mass of ice and snow. He twirled his hand around it until it formed a snowball. “You want to go there, fucker?”

 

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