by Shayla Black
The mere suggestion made his heart stop and fear burn through his veins. Bram’s dream, the one where Mathias captured her, came back to him in a rush. Duke broke out in a cold sweat.
Moments later, heart and mind heavy, he rang off. He looked over at Felicia and saw her trembling. Her eyes filled with tears. Desperate to comfort her, Duke opened his mouth to assure her that she’d never suffer as Tynan had, then he closed it. That was one promise he couldn’t make, no matter how badly he wanted to.
“I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe from Mathias.”
“I know.”
Silently, Duke wondered if it would be enough. He closed his eyes, certain Felicia wondered it, too.
In the somber silence, his phone rang again. He looked at the display. Mason. Duke hesitated. Now wasn’t the time to deal with his brother and the drama of jealousy.
“Let me answer it.” She swallowed. “In my heart, he’s still my friend. I need to tell him how sorry I am that—”
That what, she wanted to continue to lean on Mason as a crutch? Damn. “Answer it.”
Felicia grabbed the phone and pressed the answer button. “Mason, I’m glad you called. I—”
“Not Mason, dear.” A deep velvety voice purred in her ear. “Mathias. Mason is with me. You and I haven’t met yet, but we will. If you want your fiancé and your lover’s brother back alive, you know what I want. Bring the Book of Doomsday and come to the tomb tonight.”
CHAPTER 16
CASTING A CONCERNED GLANCE at Felicia, Duke climbed from the car in Glastonbury, near a little pub that cashed in on the town’s mythical heritage as the fabled Avalon of Arthurian lore. She’d spoken very little during the entire trip from London, merely buried her head in Merlin’s tomes. She was anxious. Bloody hell, so was he. He must keep her safe. And what the devil would he tell his mother if anything happened to his brother? Felicia was already mired in guilt and anger … If Mathias killed Mason, what would that do to her? God knew, he’d carry his own cross of guilt for the next thousand years.
“Killing Mason doesn’t help Mathias’s cause,” he tried to reassure her, as much as himself.
While a sadistic bastard, the evil wizard usually had a reason for everything he did. Tynan’s murder made sense for Mathias. Eliminating a member of both the Doomsday Brethren and the Council was a big win. Mason was merely leverage … at least for now. But if Mathias got what he wanted? Mason would be expendable, and Duke feared his brother would be six feet under.
Felicia stepped from the car, determination stamped across her feminine features. “But he’ll do it if we fail to follow his terms. I won’t let Mason suffer as Tynan did.”
Yes, Simon had seen the horror of it for himself mere hours ago. The gruesome sight had turned his stomach. The brutality of the slaying brought this war to a whole new level, and every one of the Doomsday Brethren knew it. So damn sad that the wizard had dedicated the last months of his life to avenging Auropha’s murder … only to join her as another casualty.
Whatever enmity Duke and Mason shared, he’d never wanted his brother dragged into this dangerous world. He must save Mason … but damn it, not by risking Felicia.
“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be here,” he argued. “If Mathias captures you as well …”
“He can’t use magic against me. I’m reading up for some way to destroy Morganna’s essence so that I’m no longer valuable to him. I’m the only one who can help Mason. And after all he’s done for me and all I’ve done to him, I must.”
Duke knew that protesting was pointless. They’d argued this very point while packing up their hotel room and stopping by Kari’s pub. They’d reached an impasse, so she’d enlisted Bram’s help the second they walked through the pub’s door. While Duke had argued that there must be another way to confront Mathias and rescue Mason, when Bram asked for suggestions, Duke had nothing. There was no other bloody way. They all knew it.
Winter bit through Duke’s coat as he slammed the car door with all the frustration seething inside him. Felicia sent him an apologetic glance, but it changed nothing. As worried as he was for Mason and for her, another demon ate at him: Felicia would risk her life for Mason, but with her own mate, she refused to risk her heart. Didn’t that tell him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t ready—or willing—to let go of her past and embrace their future? An ice pick to the chest would hurt less.
As they approached the unfamiliar pub, the door opened. Bram, Ice, and Marrok, looking grim, stood inside the empty place, waiting. Ice and Marrok held pints in white-knuckled fists. Bram looked tense and shaky, strung out on fury and adrenaline.
“Glad you made it,” Bram said. “The pub owner is a friend of Kari’s. He says we can leave your car and any other gear here until we return.”
If they returned.
Felicia nodded. “Good. What other arrangements must we make? With Mason captive, we must begin tonight.”
For the first time, Bram hesitated. “I can’t say exactly what we’ll face. Marrok has brought his sword. Duke, Ice, and I will be with you. When Mathias appears, you won’t be alone.”
“We can’t let him hurt Mason,” she said with determination.
Bram nodded. “And we can’t let him resurrect Morganna. Under any circumstances.”
“Let’s not dwell on our fears,” Ice suggested. “What do we know about the tomb and anything inside it?”
“Precious little,” Duke growled.
Felicia paced farther into the little pub. She looked about its dark wood interior and expansive windows, which allowed moonlight to filter in. Stale air, ale, and cigarette stench aside, Felicia looked like she belonged. The pub boasted a celestial ceiling and pictures of the Glastonbury Tor, along with big paintings of King Arthur, and the ethereal witch Morganna. Marrok stared at the last with a grimace as Felicia faced Bram.
“I’ve been reading in the car. I found a few things. Apparently the tomb has some manner of magical sentry at the door, designed to ward away rather than harm.”
“That,” Bram jumped in, “I know of. My grandfather was quite fond of using compulsions to keep people out when he wished to hide anything. I’m sure he’s used it here. So anyone human or magical who approached the cave entrance would feel inexplicably compelled to turn back.”
“Which is why the tomb has never been disturbed,” Ice added.
“Exactly.”
“If everyone is compelled to leave, how will Mathias get in?”
“He’s a snake.” Duke raked a hand though his hair. “He’ll be devising some means to slither in, no doubt.”
“I’m fairly sure Mathias cannot enter before you, Felicia, or he would have already tried,” Bram pointed out. “After you’ve gone in, two of us will linger near the doorway to ensure he cannot enter behind. We’ll follow as quickly as we can.”
She nodded. “There are four levels inside. Merlin was very coy with his phrasing. One task requires us to be brisk. Another will require us to be brave. The third will force us to ‘believe,’ whatever he meant by that. The last …” She shook her head. “We must have possession of the Doomsday Diary and it’s probably deadly. That’s all I know.”
“You have the diary with you?” Bram asked.
She gestured to the pack on her back. “It’s here. Being Untouchable, I can’t use it, but … how will having it save Mason? We can’t simply bypass all the traps and allow Mathias to walk inside. He’ll kill Mason as soon as he’s gotten what he wants.”
And Felicia as well. Duke mulled that likelihood over but didn’t know how to stop the danger. How could this end without death?
Duke despised this edgy, impotent feeling. He was a man of action, used to making decisions and carrying them out. No hesitation. No undue deliberation. But the consequences of failure now were gut-wrenching.
Felicia shook her head. “Perhaps there will be a way during one of the levels to … I don’t know, catch Mathias in one of the traps. Maybe if I can dart
ahead enough, the tomb’s resident magical safeguards will take over and doom him?”
Perhaps. Perhaps not. Duke hated leaving so much to chance, but what were his other options? Mason must be saved, Mathias no longer answered his brother’s phone to negotiate, they knew precious little about what to expect from the tomb, and Felicia refused to stay back.
Bram shrugged. “What, if anything, does the book say about resurrecting Morganna?”
“Almost nothing.” She sighed, paced. “What do you know?”
“My grandfather was one cagey bastard. If he wanted to keep something a secret, he had many ways. I’m sure Morganna’s tomb was one of those things. Some of this … we may have to simply deal with as issues arise.”
Not what Duke wanted to hear, but he couldn’t fault Felicia or Bram. They’d done their best to find the information. Though it was far more than they had known previously, he was painfully aware that it may not be enough.
“Why is it even possible to resurrect her? Why didn’t Merlin simply kill her outright?”
“It’s hardly that simple.” Bram sighed. “She was a powerful witch who practiced deep into the dark arts. She would have had safeguards against sudden death. Besides, I think Merlin wanted her to suffer. Merely killing her would have been too kind.”
And they were all suffering for that now.
“I see. I did find one interesting, unrelated note,” Felicia said. “About Untouchables. According to Merlin there were instances where magic could affect them. But I didn’t know what he meant. The whole thing was couched in terms of covenants. Does he mean a pact?”
Bram’s gaze slid toward Simon. “Or a mate bond.”
A puzzled frown drifted across Felicia’s face. “Do you think that’s what Shock meant when he said that my ancestor, Fayre, was able to hide her imprint on her mate? Her bond to her wizard was somehow different and allowed him to use magic in her presence?”
“Possibly. But we know it’s about more than speaking the words because Duke’s signature … It’s perhaps not quite as transparent, but it still shows your imprint. Bloody awkward. I can only guess that Fayre trusted her mate completely and allowed him under her Untouchable barrier. It’s perhaps the only way a wizard would have free rein with his ability around someone like you.”
In other words, for Duke to use his magic near her, Felicia would have to open her heart to him completely. She must give him her love without reservation or barriers. Given her past and all that had happened to her? Why should he hope that he’d managed to accomplish in four days what Mason hadn’t in six years?
He risked a glance at Felicia. Her gaze was downcast, her face pensive. She understood the ramifications of Bram’s supposition. And she wasn’t reaching out to Duke.
“That could be a bloody fantastic weapon against Mathias,” Ice said. “He’d never expect it.”
Yes, their veritable ace in the hole, but …
“Have you tried using your magic recently?” Bram quirked a brow at Duke. “With Felicia near?”
Not since the night he’d abducted her. “No.”
A long moment passed. Duke nearly didn’t want to try. He feared failure, the physical symbol of their imperfect mating.
“Go on,” Bram urged.
Felicia faced him, and he took her hand. “Will you try?” he asked.
She shrugged, then nodded. “What do I do?”
“Focus on relaxing.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Try to open yourself and trust me. Let me inside your walls. Remember that I would never hurt you.”
“I know.”
Her reply was a mere breath across his cheek, and everything inside him seized. Duke wanted this to work so badly, and not just because it would help the cause.
“Go ahead.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Duke figured he’d best start with something small, and focused on unzipping her rucksack. He closed his eyes, pictured it, tried to muster that indescribable force inside him that provided magic. But like every other occasion around her, the sensation was like screaming down a motorway at breakneck speed, then smashing into a brick wall. His magic fell in shambles around him.
With a curse, he backed away.
Ice scowled at them. “What the fuck is the matter with you two? You’re mated but not together? Get your shit together and fix it before someone dies.”
Duke turned a glower on Ice. “We’re working on it.”
God, what more could he say? That Felicia was afraid of her own heart? That after being abandoned so many times in her life she didn’t know how to love without fear? The words were too personal. He swallowed them.
“It’s too soon,” he said instead.
“That’s crap. I knew the instant I met Sabelle—”
“But she didn’t know the instant she met you,” Duke returned. “You earned her trust over time. Allow Felicia the same.”
“We don’t have that luxury.” Bram’s glance was full of reproach.
Felicia bit the inside of her cheek. “Unconditional trust isn’t something any of you simply gives away. I’m no different.”
They all fell silent. Duke took her hand, half for show, the other half just to touch her and tell her that he understood her fear—even if her resistance to their love hurt more than he’d imagined.
“Keep working on it.” Bram reached around and picked up a pack, strapping it onto his back. “It’s nearly ten o’clock. We should see if we can get in the cave now.”
She nodded. “That’s what Mathias demanded. He’s got Mason, and we can’t afford to anger him.”
Bram nodded. “We’ll see how far we progress tonight. Knowing my grandfather, the tomb will be enormous. And we’ll all need rest before we face too many challenges. We can’t afford to be sloppy.”
As much as it chafed Duke, Bram was right. “Let’s go.”
The others reached for their packs and slung them on their backs. Duke glanced Bram’s way. He looked as thrilled as the guest of honor at a public execution.
“We stay together.”
They nodded, and he led everyone to the back of the unfamiliar pub, out a rickety door, and into a dark alley. They made their way through a picket fence that had seen better decades, which led to a wide-open field. A stone path bisected it for long minutes until they reached what appeared to be a cellar door of warped wood built into the side of a hill. But in the upper right corner a small symbol had been branded into the grain: a sword spearing a round table. They were in the right place.
Everything that had happened to him and Felicia had been because of the contents of this tomb. Duke sensed that whatever transpired in here would determine his fate with her. A million things could go wrong. Mathias could kill Mason—or kill them all. He could resurrect Morganna and wreak havoc. Or they might foil this mad scheme … and Felicia could still choose the safety and familiarity of a loveless life over the passion she had found with him. Tonight could well be the beginning of their end.
Bram pulled the heavy wooden door open, and Duke frowned. “How can you be certain the tomb hasn’t been disturbed in all these centuries or that Mathias hasn’t beaten us inside?”
The other warrior raised a brow. “Ice, Marrok, take Felicia down the path, back to the alley. We’ll give our doubting Thomas a dose of my grandfather’s magic.”
Duke tensed. “I don’t want her out of my sight.”
“Trust in us,” Marrok said. “’Twould be a bane for us all should Mathias capture her for his own evil purposes.”
“Absolutely,” Ice added. “We’d be fucked, so it won’t happen.”
“Three minutes,” Bram said. “If you want to know why I’m so confident, give me that.”
“I’m fine,” she assured Simon softly.
Before Duke could say more, Ice and Marrok escorted her down the long path, out the rickety gate, and down the moonlit lane, watchful and tense. The trio finally disappeared.
Slowly, the atmosphere around the door changed. A
t first Simon felt a vague discomfort, then a growing agitation. Within a minute, he itched to run, not walk, away from this place. He almost feared it, as if he stood before the gates of hell. Finally, he backed away, physically unable to stand near the door without being ill. Bram was right beside him.
Duke swallowed, clutching his stomach. “Point proved. Dear God …”
Never in his forty-three years had he felt anything like that. Not having grown up with magickind, he had never understood why Merlin’s name was often whispered with reverence and awe. If this was but one of the wizard’s tricks, Duke had a whole new respect for Merlin.
And Merlin’s blood flowed through Bram’s veins. Perhaps he should ponder a new respect for the Doomsday Brethren’s leader as well.
Shuddering, Duke withdrew his wand and pointed it upward. A white arc of light slashed through the night sky toward Felicia and the other men. To the human eye, it might look like a very low shooting star. Ice and Marrok would know exactly what it meant.
Quickly, the illness abated, followed by the fear. Soon, Simon could creep closer and felt no discomfort. Then Felicia came into view, silhouetted by silvery moonlight and flanked by the two warriors.
“Amazing,” he admitted to Bram. “And everyone who comes near here …”
“Feels compelled to leave to the point of illness? Yes.”
“Then Mathias hasn’t beaten us in.”
“I don’t think he would have troubled himself with a human captive if the didn’t know for certain that he needed Felicia.”
Probably not, Duke conceded.
Once more, Bram pulled on the door. It squeaked open as if protesting, then revealed a dark chasm. No one could see what was inside, especially given the pitch-dark night. Collectively, they peered in, and Duke had a sense of infinity beyond that door, as if one could walk or fall forever and not find the end.
“Keep your eyes open for any hint of Mathias. Torches?” he asked.
Bram and Ice each pulled a flashlight out of their pack. “We all have one. We should rotate using them to save batteries. We’ve no idea how many hours or days it will take to find our way through the caverns to the tomb.”