He was so consumed with his internal struggle, he almost seemed not to notice the shrinking distance, not even backing out of her reach. In a swift series of moves, she used the palm of her hand to slam his gun upward into his forehead. Disarming him, she flipped the gun and rammed the butt of it right into his nose, dropping him to the floor in an unconscious heap.
Sasha blew out a long breath, ignoring how her hands trembled. Thank fuck that had worked.
A downward glance revealed a trail of red blood slashed across her black top from his gushing nose as he fell. Part of her wanted to rip off her top and throw it in the closest sink with running water, but the other side of her brain—the independent women should kick ass side—felt a smattering of pride at what she’d just been able to do. All the while, she held the gun trained on Baldy, trigger finger ready to squeeze. She left him alive on purpose. They’d need someone to interrogate when all this was done.
She knew without looking that Derek had easily dispatched the other man. The stench of fried flesh permeating the room now was nauseating.
“You okay?” he called.
“Yeah.”
The dwarves rushed into the room, taking it in at a glance. Tristain took over for her, guarding Baldy on the floor. She pulled her finger off the trigger and lowered her gun before handing it over to Haden.
Suddenly, Derek was at her side, turning her roughly to face him. “That was . . . ” He shook his head, at a loss for words.
“Incredible? Awesome? Kickass?” She gave him a wan smile. She might have trained through the years to defend herself, but she’d never liked violence.
He scowled. “Dumb. How dare you risk yourself like that? Did you know he wouldn’t shoot?” Before she could answer, he yanked her into his arms, squeezing her tightly enough to cut off breath. “And yes. Kickass and about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Just . . . don’t do that to me again. Okay?”
She huffed a laugh into his shirt. “I’ll try not to.”
Lance stepped up. He eyed the two of them but didn’t comment when Derek refused to pull his arms from around her. “We need to get Sasha and the stone out of here.”
“Agreed,” Derek said. “Where?”
“Our home. It’s large but well armed with several panic rooms and a state-of-the-art system that you can patch into.”
“Like at the office? That doesn’t seem to do much against this sorceress.”
Lance scowled. “We may have a few magical wards in place as well. Got any better options?”
He didn’t. “We should move now.” Derek turned to Sasha. “Go with them. I’m going to use Baldy here to trace to the source.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. “You can’t go after Morgan alone.”
“Trust me, like I trusted you just now. No more doubts between us. Or lies. Yes?”
She licked suddenly dry lips, but nodded. “Yes.”
His eyes crinkled with satisfaction. “That’s my girl.” Sasha’s heart contracted at the words and the swift kiss he placed on her lips.
“You believe me now?” she whispered.
He cocked his head, his smile stretching to a full grin. “Can’t you read my mind?”
She shook her head. “No, but then again, it’s a new talent. Who knows if, in the future, I’ll be able to hear your thoughts.”
“Probably a good thing you can’t. You’d be shocked at the thoughts I harbor concerning you.” He winked, then moved to the safe, from which he quickly extracted the Immortality Stone and handed it to Lance. “Go.”
“Haden, stay here and help Derek,” Lance directed.
The other man nodded.
“What’s going to happen with Baldy?” she asked.
“Leave it to me,” Derek responded, his voice deeper and harsher than she’d ever heard before. He raised his hand and slapped Baldy across the cheek. “Who sent you?”
Sasha turned her back; she didn’t need to see a bashing taking place, not after all the shit she’d already seen today. Unfortunately, she couldn’t close her ears off.
“All right! All right!” Baldy screeched. “No more.”
“Thank God,” she muttered.
“Okay, I’ve got an address, let’s go.” Derek said as he stopped alongside where she and Lance still stood.
Unable to stop herself, she went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Be careful.”
“Careful’s my middle name.”
“Hmmmm . . . ”
It went against everything in her to meekly follow Lance and the others. She’d helped them win the battle. However, arguing with eight testosterone-fueled men would be like hitting her head against a brick wall. Leaving with the dwarves was the lesser of two evils. She paused in the doorway when she remembered her ring.
“Derek?”
“Yes.”
“The ring my father gave me. It’s in the toilet tank in the bathroom. I need it back. Will you grab it for me?”
Derek chuckled. “Of course, you’d hide a priceless magical ring in a toilet. I’ll get it and bring it to you tonight. I promise.”
“Thank you.” She followed the men out of the office.
God, she hoped like hell she saw him tonight. He didn’t know Morgan.
The woman had misled Arthur and all his knights, even Sasha’s wise father. Could she trust his word that he would be careful and return to her? She’d sent a mortal to fight a legend. By allowing Derek to go after Morgan, had she handed the sorceress the strongest tool yet to destroy them with? If she had, had Sasha condemned herself to another fifteen hundred years hiding from the witch—alone?
Chapter 15
“The house is just up ahead. Let’s drive past, then circle around, and park out of sight.”
Haden nodded at Derek’s instructions and slowed the vehicle. They passed the blue two-story terrace house in the upscale Notting Hill neighborhood. The house was one of the many brightly colored ones unique to the area. You’d think an evil witch would be more circumspect. Then again, appearing like everyone else was a perfect way to blend in. Plus, most of the homes backed private or communal gardens, so the occupants had multiple access points and plenty of time to leave without detection, hiding their numbers from the neighbors.
That was, if this was the house where Morgan stayed.
“A magical cloaking spell would be handy right about now,” Derek muttered as Haden parked the car.
“Very true,” Haden sat back and looked over at Derek. “What is your plan?”
“I think a casual walk around to get the lay of the land, so to speak, before we try to make contact with whoever is in there. One of us should make sure the back exit is covered while the other makes contact at the front.”
Derek sighed at the row of identical-looking houses on either side of the street. “My gut is telling me we’re not going to find anything here. If this Morgan woman were here, I’m thinking she would’ve cleared out by now. No doubt the fact that her troop of goons hasn’t reported in or returned will have raised a red flag for her to get out as fast as she can.”
“I have a feeling you’re correct.”
Derek swiveled in the seat. “What would your battle plan be?” he asked the man Sasha referred to as Sir Galahad.
“When I was a knight, I might have used my ability to manipulate fire to disintegrate the barrier—in this instance, the front door.”
Whoa. He could manipulate fire? Then Derek gave a mental shrug. Why the hell not? I hurl energy balls. Maybe he was getting used to the weird and unusual.
There were many layers to this group of men. Layers he had no time to unwrap at this precise moment. “Not exactly subtle.”
Haden raised one shoulder nonchalantly. “No, and those times have passed. Times change. Over and over. All around us,” Haden flicked a glance down his small body. “Except some things never change.”
What would it be like to have your life changed in the most dramatic fashion, where you went from being a person feared and
respected to one people often ignored or overlooked? Derek couldn’t imagine it. But the seven men who were actually King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table had lived it every day. For a helluva long time.
They should get out of the car and check out the house. The longer they delayed, the longer it would take for them to get answers to their questions. However, he had a question of his own, and he wasn’t sure he was going to like the answer.
“What happened to King Arthur? How come he’s not with you all?”
Haden shifted his head to look out the window, his hands clenching the wheel. “He died. Killed by the witch as part of the curse.”
Derek sucked in a deep breath. Was King Arthur the warrior Sasha loved? Still loved, if the way her voice softened when she’d told Derek about him a few weeks ago was any indication. The thought of Sasha loving a legend cut deep. Could he even compete?
“The tales written about Arthur. Were they true?” he asked Haden.
“Mostly. Arthur was as noble as they made out. As true, as loyal, an amazing fighter and leader. Besotted by Guinevere. But also stubborn, and that stubbornness is what ultimately caused his death.”
Derek started to ask more questions, but Haden held up his hand. “I’m done talking about a king who died long before King Henry married his first wife. We are cursed to wander this earth alone.”
Cursed. They’re all trapped by a curse.
A memory slammed through him—it had to be a memory. It was too real to be a hallucination or a simple vision. A woman whispered something in his ear. He closed his eyes, and a hazy vision of a woman filtered into his mind. Her mouth opened, and as if she stood next to him, she whispered the words:
O’er time evermore
This curse shall befall
Seven knights, alone
With hearts of stone,
Slight in size
Their powers shall demise.
Separate from their king,
Will walk this Earth, leaderless and unloving.
Upon the crown
Death will sound
O’er and o’er
To a love never found.
His eyes snapped open.
Fuck, is this the curse Sasha and Haden referred to? I wasn’t there. How could I know?
His thoughts rounded back to the round table. He couldn’t possibly have been alive at that time, unless he believed in reincarnation. He never had before, but . . . could he have been a lowly servant or even a knight?
Hell, why not?
“Do I remind you of someone from that time? Look like anyone you knew?” he blurted the question out.
“Shit.”
Haden’s response wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “I didn’t think it was that bad a question.”
Haden huffed out a frustrated breath. “I wasn’t referring to your question. I didn’t hear it. My focus was on the house and,” he pointed in the direction of the blue house, “that.”
That was a man coming out of the house, his head moving quickly from side to side, as if he were watching a tennis game. All thoughts of trying to find out if he had a past life flew out of Derek’s mind.
He reached for the door handle. “I’m going to tail this guy. You go see if anyone else is in that house. Either going through the front door or the back. Subtly, of course.”
Haden rolled his eyes seconds before Derek slammed the door shut and took off after the man. He raced down the street as nonchalantly as he could and spied the tall, thickset man, his head still moving from side to side, around a corner. Could anyone look more shifty?
Picking up his pace, Derek reached the corner mere seconds after the guy turned it. He came to a screeching halt. Not a soul walking on the sidewalk or the sound of a car speeding away, no taillights.
“Where the fuck did you go?” Derek whispered, walking until he stood in the middle of the street. He had no idea what that would achieve, except a better visual of the street in both directions. Remnants of a magical portal lingering in the air? He sniffed, but nothing smelled strange.
“Fucking magic.”
That had to be the only explanation he could come up with. Either he’d employed that cloaking spell used to break into Chevalier’s offices, or in fact, the guy had jumped into a magical wormhole.
Derek headed back, surveying everything in the vain hope the guy had hidden behind a car or in a doorway or maybe down an alley. He reached the car at the same time Haden did. The grim look on Haden’s face said it all.
The house didn’t hold the answers they were looking for.
“Dammit.”
Dead-fucking-end.
• • •
Haden called Lance on the way back to the house. “The address was a bust. We saw one guy leave. Derek tailed him, but he vanished. No other sign of life and minimal furniture. If Morgan was ever there, she and her crew are long gone. The layer of undisturbed dust on everything would indicate it hasn’t been occupied in years.”
“How is that even fucking possible?” Lance’s anger came across the phone line loud and clear.
Derek clamped his mouth shut and tuned out the rest of Haden’s conversation. While they might be fighting on the same side, the guy rubbed him the wrong way. However, it looked as though their working relationship would be ongoing, especially as it seemed both Sasha and the stone were at risk now.
Ten minutes later, he stood in the grand foyer of what he could only describe as a castle. The building sat dead center in massive, well-manicured grounds in the heart of London. The land alone was probably worth a king’s ransom. The building itself was made of stone, the foyer built into the central turret, the split grand staircase following the curve up the walls on both sides. Hallways led off to the east and west wings of the building.
Derek glanced around the thirty-foot-high foyer. He’d almost expected armor and medieval décor, but the house was nicely decorated. Modern hall tables with flower-filled vases flanked the open area. Not a hint of artifacts from centuries ago.
No doubt, it had more than enough bedrooms to accommodate the seven men plus an entire village. Despite the grandeur of the outside and the grounds, the interior had a surprisingly welcoming feel to it, more like a homey cottage.
Most of the door handles were normal height. In fact, he couldn’t make out any discernable alterations to the house to accommodate the Knights’ smaller stature. As much as he’d like to speculate on how they opened doors, in the grand scheme of things, he really didn’t care. The only reason he found himself in this massive house was because of the woman hidden somewhere in this monolith of a house.
He slipped his hand in his pants pocket, his fingers closing around Sasha’s ring he’d retrieved. He needed to return it to her.
“Where’s Sasha?”
“Upstairs,” Waine responded.
“How do I get to her room?”
No one spoke. He was surrounded by men who had declared fealty and their protection to Sasha; not one of them indicated the slightest urge to help Derek.
He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and counted to ten. When some of the tension drained out of his body, he opened his eyes and trained his gaze on Lance. It went against his pride, but he if he made peace with Lance, he had a chance of getting the information he wanted.
“Look, I’m not the enemy here. I care for Sasha.” He would protect her with his life. The men in the room needed to understand the strength of his feelings for her.
“We all care for Sasha, Derek.” This time it was Tristain who spoke.
“I’m sure you do, but the stone glowed when we touched it together. Sasha means more to me than anyone ever has. We’re on the same team. My job description hasn’t changed in the last twelve hours. You employed me to provide security to protect your valuable jewels and to uncover who was trying to steal from you. Sasha has explained why she wanted the stone. However, there is still someone wanting to take it from you. And take her from us. Until that threat is neutralized, I will
fulfill my obligations. Part of that obligation is, like you, to protect the woman upstairs. Now can someone please tell me where she is?”
The silence stretched between them. Would he have to take matters in his own hands and search the whole damn house?
“Sasha is located in a room on the third floor at the end of the corridor.” The information came from Gareth, who withstood his brothers’ glares without a blink.
Derek nodded his thanks and took the stairs two at a time. Taking a deep breath, he knocked and opened her door.
“A true gentleman wouldn’t barge in. He’d wait to be invited to enter a woman’s bedroom.”
Derek smiled at her sassy tone. “There’s my girl.”
Sasha stood by the window, dressed in a silky yellow bathrobe. While he’d been otherwise occupied, it appeared she’d used the opportunity to shower.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m just dandy. Who wouldn’t be fabulous while being kept in this gilded cage?” She waved a hand.
She was right. The room was large. His eyes zeroed in on the king-sized bed, covered in a pale pink comforter, pillows artfully arranged. Sasha wouldn’t appreciate the overtly feminine touch.
“Well, at least as far as prisons go, it’s a very comfortable one.”
She cringed. “Please don’t call it a prison. I already want to get out of here.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, princess.”
Hands on her hips, she glared. “Don’t you start. It’s bad enough having that lot downstairs constantly telling me they’ll give their lives for me.” She crossed her arms, causing the silky fabric to stretch across her chest. He’d have to be blind not to see she wore nothing underneath the robe.
Unable to resist a second longer, reached out to run a finger down her cheek, her skin smooth and soft. “I’d lay down my life for you, too.”
Derek didn’t give her a chance to respond as he closed the distance and placed his lips over hers, pulling her body flush against him. Her body relaxed into his, as though she’d been waiting for this moment for as long as he had.
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