Invincible: The Curse of Avalon #4

by Skye, Sariah

  “Traitor? Oh hell no, it’s on, storm-boy!” I dove for him, over Mathias’ legs, fist in the air, but Xander lifted his pillow to shield himself. I grabbed for the pillow instead, pulling it away from him, and slugged him in the head with it.

  “You people are mad, so help me…” Mathias shook his head, pushing Xander and I apart by our shoulders. With a reluctant sigh, I backed down, but not after pointing two fingers between Xander and I repeatedly. “One day soon, I’ll get you.” He flashed me an impish, taunting grin.

  “Well… we should probably get up or something,” Mathias said reluctantly. “War to plan for and things…”

  “Aye.” I felt a set of lips and a rough chin on my cheek. “I’m gonna take me a shower. Wash all the gross sweat off from all you bastards.”

  “Jesus, Trystan…” Bash slapped his hand over his face.

  Trystan just chuckled devilishly, before asking, “You okay now, really?”

  “I’ll be fine.” I smiled at him appreciatively.

  “Good. With luck hopefully Rhys has been diddling with the witches again, and left my damn bathroom alone,” Trystan said, sliding out of the bed to his bare feet, grumbling the entire way through the room.

  “For the love of all that is holy use your own goddamned bathroom, Trystan!” Mathias shouted in frustration, scowling at him. “I should have left him in that snare all those years ago…”

  “Eh, I shoulda left you in that cave. Eat shit, ye Roman bastard.” With both middle fingers in the air, he flicked everyone off before ducking out of the doorway.

  “I’m gonna kill him,” Mathias muttered, shaking his head. “Well, I’m hungry. Anyone else? I should go check on Mordred before I make breakfast. Anyone hungry?” Mathias asked, and Bash, Xander, and I nodded. He nudged Bash aside so he could roll out of bed. Before leaving, he turned and grazed his long fingers over the side of my face and smiled lovingly at me. “See you downstairs.” He bent over and gently kissed my forehead and turned to leave.

  “So, what are you two doing?” I asked the two remaining incubi in my bed. “Do you have to go compulsively clean something?” I looked at Xander who just scoffed. “What about you? Some nerdy computer thing?”

  “Nope.” Bash said, with a sigh. “Can’t do anything else with potions right now, and until it’s time to go, there isn’t much going on.” He ran his hands over his face and back through his blond hair. “Where’s your remote?” He asked, nodding to the big screen across the room. “Mind if I hang out a bit longer?”

  “Me too?” Xander echoed, not wanting to be left out if Bash was staying. I started to narrow my eyes at him. “It’s not a jealous thing, I swear. I just really don’t want to go and face… life.”

  “Ugh, I agree. Bash, remote is in the drawer. Have at it.” With a grin and a crook of his finger, Xander summoned me back to him. I happily obliged, resting my head at the bend of his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around my back.

  Bash produced the remote from the drawer and pointed it at the TV, settling on some sci-fi show with aliens or… something. He set the remote next to me, and curled around me, draping his arm over my waist and I lifted my arm, so he could rest on my chest. It was just second nature now, none of us really even realized we did it. We just did.

  As I lay there with them, holding them both close to me, the scents of the other two still fresh on my mind, I smiled contentedly, images from last’s night dream far from my mind. Right now and when the other two were here, and we were joking around everything seemed so…normal. Even though nothing about us was normal. And I rather liked it that way; it reminded me of the future, and what could come, possibly, if everything with Camelot and Avalon was successful. Which gave me all the more determination to get there, get this done… and get to living life. Together.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Meanwhile in Camelot…

  “Do you see this? Such a vulgar display of… disparity!” Arthur’s voice boomed loudly, echoing off the tall, stone walls of the throne room.

  “You see? It is as I’ve said. I’ve spent much time on the human earth. There is nothing redeemable about any of them.” Nimue said with a vicious snarl, as the two of them peered over the table. With Nimue’s magic she was able to activate it, much like she had that day she tricked everyone, and pulled Ava into Camelot. She grinned with self-satisfaction; they’d had no idea. Probably blamed that bitch trollop, Morgaine.

  She was thwarted by Merlin, though… and those damned incubi. The five of them, plus Ava were enough to put a hitch in her plans—her plans to finally open up the portals to Earth, and give her shadow fae brethren a home. A real home besides the arid wasteland they’d been occupying for more millennia than anyone could count.

  “I must agree with you, my love,” Arthur said, raising a hand to stroke it over his beloved’s cheek, trailing it down her long neck and resting just over her ample breasts. Nimue responded with a seductive grin of her own, before Arthur turned to his longtime friend and colleague, who was obediently standing behind him, awaiting his direction.

  “What say you, Sir Bedivere? Would you like a look at the world we’re trying to repair? At the disgusting opponent we must face?” he asked, with a sneer, motioning his hand over the shimmering surface of the Round Table.

  “If it pleases milord,” Bedivere replied with reverence. With a slight bow of his head, he stepped forward, prepared to be repulsed with whatever display of hedonism that was sure to represent the very worst of Earth humanity. “What am I looking at, if you do not mind, your majesty? It is my understanding that the opposite end of this magic lay in the bedroom of Lancelot’s ‘daughter’?” Bedivere was incredibly skeptic, of course, as to the validity of Lancelot having a daughter, and said the word with a certain amount of bitterness in it. Surely, he didn’t know what Lancelot’s game was, but if the new Lancelot was anything like the Lancelot he knew years ago, it was devious and self-serving indeed.

  “That is correct. She is the absolute worst of them all. She has…” Arthur cringed, visibly disgusted. “Four consorts.”

  “Four?” Bedivere’s thick, black brow rose, nearly hidden by the metallic brim of his helmet. “That is… appalling.”

  “And they’re demons of the worst kind. Seduction demons,” Nimue added, with a leer that made Bedivere want to quake in his heavy boots. “Go ahead. Look. See what we mean.”

  “Of course.” Bedivere took a deep breath, anticipating some vulgar display of sexual conquest. But when he looked upon a colorful bedroom, that looked out of time—well, out of his time—all he saw was…

  …five people in a bed?

  This was the disparity Arthur was so concerned about? In Camelot that was a normal occurrence for most families, with small houses and limited means there was little other choice. Perhaps Arthur is more separated from his kingdom than he thinks, Bedivere thought reproachfully.

  “Do you see this?” Arthur exclaimed in disgust, waving his hand at the table.

  “I do. I am… appalled,” Bedivere answered in his ever-present, unshaken, emotionless tone. Which was good because… he felt something wasn’t right here.

  One of the people rose from his slumber and beamed when a pretty blonde woman sat up and stretched; she’d been sleeping against a rather large and very intimidating man that did make him feel uneasy. But that thought was swept aside when the woman smiled, and Bedivere’s stomach sank into his boots.

  Lancelot. She was the spitting image of Lancelot.

  His friend was telling the truth all along.

  And if he was honest about that… what other things was he honest about? The fact that humanity, while it had its problems was overall full of beauty and kindness? Because… it certainly didn’t sound all that different from Camelot.

  Just the members of Arthur’s court had torrid affairs, resulting in bastard children and absent parents. And…violence. So much violence over the years…

  As he further watched the display of the five—were they lo
vers, all of them? Maybe… moreover as they laughed and smiled, and jested with each other they resembled something beautiful. Something he hadn’t seen a great deal of in the past years since Arthur had met Nimue, and his virtues turned…dark.

  Family.

  It certainly wasn’t the disgusting display of hedonism that Arthur and Nimue claimed it to be.

  “Ugh. Nimue—if you will. I cannot look upon this anymore.” Arthur scowled, and with a wave of her hand and blast of cold, dark magic, the image in the table went blank, and Bedivere looked upon a smooth table surface once again.

  “So, what say you, Bedivere? Do you agree this world needs saving?” Arthur’s pale eyes gazed upon him with menace, daring him to challenge his word.

  “Yes, I would agree, milord. This world needs saving in the worst way,” Bedivere replied, without missing a beat. But, saving from who, is the question?

  “Wise. You were always the wisest of all of them, Bedivere,” Arthur praised, clapping a hand in solidarity on his most trusted “servant,” the metal of his armor clanging gently under the touch.

  “I am not deserving of such high praise, milord.” Bedivere bent at the waist in reverence at his king.

  “Nonsense. You’re the most loyal of them all,” Arthur said dismissively, turning to Nimue. “Is everything in place then?”

  “Yes. The magic was able to track Mordred as he went over into the human world. We’ll be able to find him, and make a large…impact.” Nimue cackled with a low deviousness.

  “Good.” Arthur clasped his hands together. “And Percival isn’t of the wiser?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “Traitorous bastard…” Arthur grumbled under his breath, slamming a fist on the table, causing an echo in the chambers so loud, Bedivere jumped.

  Percival… a traitor? And clearly his treachery has been revealed if Arthur was mentioning it. That meant… he was in danger.

  “Apologies, Bedivere. I did not mean to startle you.”

  “Just… concentrating. On your plans to make sure they are carried out to the best of their ability of course,” Bedivere answered, hoping “his king” couldn’t resist divulging them. If Arthur was one thing... well, really, two things… overconfident was one, and a bragger was the other.

  “Certainly. Always the dutiful one.” Arthur grinned.

  “The main threat to Camelot is, and always was Avalon, the isle, and the protectors of Lancelot’s whore of a daughter.” Nimue’s face contorted into a dark veil of shadow, before returning to her normal human appearance. The effect was positively horrifying. A lot more horrifying then the “terrible” he just witnessed opposite the table.

  “And when the moment is right, we’ll strike,” Arthur said, with a scowl.

  “Strike, milord?” Bedivere inquired, intrigued.

  “Avalon, of course. It stands between Camelot and Arthur taking his rightful place as king of humanity,” Nimue replied.

  Bedivere didn’t let his face betray his horror. “But… the witches are a peaceful sort? They cannot fight.”

  “It is of little consequence. They must go if we’re to see this through to the end. And, we must, for humanity’s sake,” Nimue said, with a laugh. “They’re consorting with the demons, they aren’t worth the trouble to keep them out of the crossfire.”

  “Most certainly,” Bedivere pretended to agree. “What of the witches, then?” If there was one thing Bedivere knew… the witches of Avalon were benevolent and kind; true forces of nature.

  “They deserve to be cut down for treason of course. Just as Lancelot will be,” Arthur replied dismissively, speaking simply as if he were merely emptying the contents of a waste basin. “Does this sit poorly with you, dear Bedivere?”

  “It is a wise precaution.” Even though he wanted to grit his teeth and pound his fist on his once-friend’s face, he remained resolute and steadfast.

  “Good. I trust we can call upon you when the time comes? You will continue to stand with Camelot?”

  “Until the very end, milord. Until the very end.” Bedivere obediently bowed once more at the waist. But the end would come a lot sooner, and a lot more surprising, than anyone would think.

  It was one thing to cut down the humans. That was heinous enough. But the witches? There was nothing more truly evil.

  Nimue had corrupted him and this court beyond recognition. This was not the Court he pledged his fealty to.

  “Good. Prepare for an invasion, Sir Bedivere. You’ll have a front seat for the destruction,” Arthur said, with a slimy smile.

  “What of your son?” Bedivere dared to ask.

  “If he is in the way, he is nothing more than collateral damage,” Arthur replied with a flippant wave.

  “Very good. I take my leave of you now, to prepare.” He gave a sweeping bow to Arthur, and one to Nimue before departing.

  The moment he was out of view, the door shut behind him and he was alone in the long, cold castle corridor, he clenched his fists, the only outward display of his fresh anger.

  Yes, he was to prepare all right. But the sort of preparations he was going to make now? Arthur wouldn’t be prepared for.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Dearest?”

  “Hmmm?” I mumbled, not able to move. I felt something on my shoulder; something that sent a shot of lustful electricity down my spine and straight through to my core. I stifled a moan, as fingers pushed my hair aside and a series of kisses was trailed over my shoulder, and up my neck. “Oh god…” My eyes finally flew open and I turned to look over my shoulder at the sultry face of Xander, who was currently the one “nuzzling” my shoulder. He cocked a brow when he noticed that I noticed him.

  At some point during our TV watching, I’d passed out between the two of them—Bash and Xander—and now I was being “gently” woken by Xander. I wouldn’t mind it one bit except for…

  …oh hell I didn’t mind it at all.

  “Should I stop, dearest?” He asked with a smug, sideways grin. I was laying on my side, smashed against Bash’s broad form, leg tossed over his thigh. Xander had been spooning in back of me, hand up my shirt of course because that’s just how he was, but apparently sleep was the furthest thing from his mind right now. “Hmm?” He prompted again when I didn’t answer, I was thoroughly enjoying the feel of his eager lips on my skin.

  “Hell to the no. Don’t stop,” I whispered, and Xander took that as his cue to not only continue, but become more determined. I let out a quiet, low moan as he nibbled on my ear. Bash caught wind of this and finally stirred, turning his head and grinning at me with his sleepy, heavy lidded eyes.

  “Well, I don’t know what’s going on but I know I like it,” he said in a low voice, and shifted until he faced me, holding my gaze with his own heavily-lidded one while setting his hands on my stomach. My head lolled back onto the pillow as he captured my mouth with his in an incredibly tender, yet somewhat demanding kiss, with Xander still gently nipping at my neck. I let out a slight whimper that was drowned out by Bash, and felt Xander’s hand on my chin. He turned my face until he could catch my lips with his when a vibrating jolt between Bash and I shook us out of our seductive wake up.

  “The hell was that?” Xander demanded crossly, as Bash immediately sat up and retrieved his phone from the pocket of his pants. What he was doing sleeping with it was beyond me, but that was Bash: always prepared.

  “Shit,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face and scowling as he read the display.

  “What?” I asked, and he turned around and showed us. It meant nothing to me, but clearly it did Xander because he instantly glowered, and muttered a few choice curses in his native tongue.

  “What?” I demanded again, and Bash sighed, turning the phone back to himself.

  “‘Hi, this is Dylan. We met a couple weeks ago at the party. You wanted us to contact you if the witch contacted us again, and she has. Just thought you’d want to know.’,” Bash read aloud from the display, and suddenly it clicked.

&n
bsp; “Dylan? That incubus in St. Cloud?” My mouth dropped open, surprised.

  “The one and the same,” Bash replied dourly.

  “The witch, does he mean—Nimue?”

  He nodded slowly. “I imagine so.” Quickly he scrambled out of bed, dialing the number and beginning to pace the length of the room.

  “We better get ready for this, dearest,” Xander said, offering me a quick kiss on the cheek. “If Nimue is contacting them, this could be huge.” He climbed out of the bed and reached out a hand as Bash dialed a number and called the incubus back, and we awaited the news.

  “So they said they’d be here? For sure?” Mathias asked from behind the steering wheel of his Suburban.

  “That’s what he said,” Bash replied, glancing down at his cell phone, and up at the back entrance of the Stargazer where Dylan and Hunter—the very same incubi that approached me in St. Cloud at that party weeks ago—said they’d meet us.

  “Uh, how did they know to come here? Aren’t they from like an hour from here?” I asked. I was sitting in the middle seat between Trystan and Xander, and Rhys and Mordred took up the very back.

  “This is where I told them to go,” Bash explained. “I have no idea where they live now. All I cared about was they aren’t victimizing anymore women, and they hang low. I told them to stay away from their families of course and how else can they do that if they are in the same town?”

  Shrugging, I considered this. “Okay…”

  “Have you ever considered this is probably a trap?” Rhys interjected. “I mean, it stands to reason that Nimue knows they know you; in fact they probably told her. They didn’t seem like the toughest guys, you know. I doubt it took much convincing for her to get them to squeal like pigs.”

  Bash turned over his shoulder and aimed a grin towards us. He lifted a sachet and a vial that had probably been shoved in his pockets and laughed evilly. “I’m not worried about it.”

  Mathias pointed past the windshield. “Is that them? Turning the corner?”