“Vaughn?” The cat continued to snarl in the back of her mind, but in annoyance instead of aggression. Her feline half remembered all too well the games of hide and go pounce she and Vaughn had played growing up.
She hadn’t seen him in at least two hundred years, though. Not since his parents were killed by Morgana during the last rebellion to reclaim Camelot. Arthur’s half-sister had been merciless when it came to punishing those who’d risen up against her. The dozens of gargoyles and human slaves who’d survived the unsuccessful attempt to take back their lost city had been publicly executed.
Vaughn would have died with his parents if they hadn’t begged him to get his younger sister far away from the fight when it was apparent that Morgana’s army might win.
Conscious of Elena and the dragon watching, Briana stood and approached Vaughn. He shifted back to his human form with the same iridescent shimmer that accompanied every gargoyle change. His dark hair hung in stringy pieces across his forehead, not quite hiding his intense cobalt eyes. Dirt and dried blood covered his body, but not enough to mask the scars that marred his skin.
What the hell had happened to him? Had he taken his parents place in the rebellion that, despite dwindled numbers, continued to make things difficult for Morgana?
She took a step toward him.
Lucan materialized in front of her, blocking her way as he drew his sword.
Briana sucked in a breath, her body tightening under the onslaught of surprise, relief and hurt that pummeled her. She thought she’d heard him on the street, but couldn’t quite wrap her mind around him being up here too.
She forced herself to take a step back even though the cat wanted to rub against him until he ran his hands down her flank. The woman wasn’t nearly so welcoming, the sting of his rejection still too fresh in her mind.
“Lucan, don’t.”
Vaughn snarled at the press of the blade against his throat. “I don’t think your friend plays well with others, B.”
“It’s okay.” She touched Lucan’s arm, the muscles more rigid than the sword easily capable of taking her friend’s head. The familiar etchings on the blade made her frown, but the questions that came with the discovery were forgotten when she noticed the material wrapped around his knuckles was stained with blood.
Lucan’s gaze shifted to her—his eyes more black than green—and stared just long enough to remind her of what had happened between them only a short time ago. Her heart slowed to a painful rhythm that made her chest ache to hold his gaze.
He finally turned his attention back to Vaughn even as he spoke to her. “You know him?”
“He’s a friend.” A reckless childhood friend who’d chosen the wrong moment to stalk her the way he had when they were kids.
As her tracking skills had improved, Vaughn had found it increasingly difficult to take her by surprise. No doubt he would gloat over this minor victory, regardless of their current predicament. Getting in trouble had never stopped Vaughn from appreciating the adventure.
Angling his body toward Briana, Lucan kept his sword where it was. “Are you hurt?”
She held onto the pointless, Do you care? that rose to the tip of her tongue. There were more important things to deal with than the emotions running just as hot and sharp as they had in the alley behind Pendragon’s.
Vaughn flashed his teeth in feral warning at Lucan.
“Maybe the wolf needs a rabies shot.”
Briana glanced up in search of the voice, eyes widening at the sight of Nessa in one of the blossom-covered trees nearby.
The huntress perched on a gnarled limb. The red shirt she wore with her black pants had been ripped along one shoulder, barely held together where claw marks made both sides of the fabric nearly see-through.
Had Mac done that?
A vine slithered around the limb next to the toe of Nessa’s knee-high boot, but either the huntress didn’t sense the tree’s innate magic or she wasn’t threatened by it. The vine skimmed her boot just as she dropped to the ground, the tip of it lashing out and just missing her back.
Briana made a mental note to give all the blossom-covered trees a wide berth as Lucan finally lowered his sword, giving Vaughn the opportunity to stand.
“A rabies shot and clothes,” Elena added. “I have no interest in seeing the pup’s dangly bits.”
Vaughn angled his dark head, his grin as cocky as ever. “Best show you’ve ever seen.”
“If I wanted to see a real purebred specimen, I’d go to a dog show.” A burst of blue formed in Elena’s palm. The sorceress closed her fist and fired it like an all-star pitcher directly at Vaughn.
Her friend staggered back from the force of it, then clutched to his chest the towel that materialized, laughing. He glanced at Briana. “I think I just fell in love with the rookie.”
Elena made a gagging sound.
Briana’s head spun with the surreal turn of events. It still felt like only moments ago she and Lucan had been alone, her body on fire and her heart ready to make any sacrifice to be with him.
Between one scorching moment and the next, everything had come crashing down, leaving her scraped raw and forced to face the harsh truth she’d been denying for months—she and Lucan had no future.
She’d been in denial for weeks, convinced that if she didn’t think or talk about him then she wouldn’t have to deal with the situation. If she didn’t acknowledge he was her mate, she could stay in control of her feline instincts and keep her heart intact.
How blind she’d been.
Lucan turned his back on the others. His gaze flicking down her body then back up. “Okay?” he mouthed, and she couldn’t decide if she was grateful or not he kept the exchange between the two of them.
She managed a nod despite the temptation to admit she was anything but okay. She didn’t care to have the surrounding immortals know how shaken up she was—a group of immortals who wouldn’t come together on their own under any other circumstances.
Could Emma be right? Had they all been marked to compete in the Gauntlet?
The reality of that possibility was nearly as troubling as her own fate now that Lucan had made it clear where they stood.
Putting some much needed distance between herself and Lucan, she edged closer to Vaughn, her gaze falling on the same Fae glyph branded on the back of his shoulder. He wrapped the towel around his waist and turned his attention to the already healing wound on his leg, distracting her from the glyph.
Had he been shot? “What happened?”
“Hunting or fighting,” Nessa guessed her eyes narrowing in speculation.
“There are no rules against either, huntress.”
Briana had to drop her gaze over a foot to notice the Korrigan who’d joined them at some point.
Who would be next? The Easter Bunny?
As crazy as that sounded, she couldn’t rule anything out at this point. Highly dependent on their magic, Korrigans left their territory about as often as the fictional fluffy-tailed, chocolate egg lover. Beyond their borders it was far more difficult for them to entrance and enslave other immortals.
Barely four feet tall, the fairy with reptilian red eyes smelled faintly of rotting oranges. The cat snarled softly at the back of Briana’s mind. There was no way to know how far they were from Korrigan territory or how strong his magic was here. She kept from making direct eye contact knowing it would give the Korrigan a distinct advantage if he was as powerful here as his home.
So a wolf, cat and dragon gargoyle, a sorceress, huntress, Korrigan, wraith and an enchantress—Briana finally spotted the blonde wearing a clingy red dress that made the shimmery fabric appear painted on—all together in one place.
The only immortal race missing was the Fae. Did that explain who their abductor was? It certainly offered no clues to explain why Briana knew some of those gathered, and knew them fairly well. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?
The Korrigan strode right up to Nessa. “What has your bitch goddess do
ne now?”
“Back the Tonka truck up, short-stack. Nobody said anything about Rhiannon being responsible for this.”
Elena smirked at Nessa’s insult, but her expression quickly morphed to one of distaste as the dragon lowered himself to the ground, his back resting against the stone half wall that separated one section of the courtyard from another.
He closed his eyes and tipped his face up to the sun.
The sun… Oh shit.
She shot a glance at Lucan from the corner of her eye. He watched the dragon intently, unveiled fury darkening his expression until he looked right at her.
“Kellagh the Black!” Nessa growled.
Briana wasn’t usually grateful for the huntress’s innate need to go looking for a fight, but she was all for whatever kept Lucan from asking questions.
Nessa reached back for the sword she would have removed in Pendragon’s, and stalked toward the dragon as though her missing weapon changed nothing. Nessa and Elena had the same provoke and move-in-for-the-kill style of causing trouble that had made the two both friends and rivals since Emma had introduced them.
While Briana appreciated the distraction, she also knew it wasn’t a good idea to let things get too far out of hand considering no one knew what was going on.
She stepped into the huntress’s path. “Now isn’t the time.” It wasn’t by chance that they’d ended up here together. Something or someone had intentionally brought them here. Someone powerful enough to override a wraith’s blood tie to a goddess and likely a huntress’s ability to travel by thought alone. “Can you leave?”
Nessa scoffed. “And turn my back on Avalon’s biggest traitor?” Venom dripped from her words. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the dragon. Aside from the one questioning glance he’d thrown at Briana, Lucan, too, had kept his gaze locked on Kel. While his expression wasn’t nearly as murderous as Nessa’s, there was no mistaking the banked fury in Lucan’s eyes.
Kel folded his arms across his chest, unfazed by Nessa’s hostility.
“Are you anchored here?” Briana pressed.
Nessa glared at her, them seemed to consider the question. “Yes. I can’t flash.”
“Disappointing,” Kel drawled. “I’ve always wanted to see a huntress’s rack.”
“Don’t waste your time.” Elena cut in before the huntress lunged for him. “He’s just blowing smoke up your ass. Pardon the pun.” She shot the dragon an innocent smile over her shoulder.
Nessa didn’t look sold on the idea of leaving the dragon alone, but made no move to engage him at the moment.
Briana let out a breath, surveying the group and their surroundings. Aside from the brand only two of them wore as far as she could tell, there were no other signs they were about to be pitted against each other in a competition for an object of power that had the ability to affect the outcome of the next campaign.
“The sun is up.”
Whatever reprieve she’d been granted had just run out and Lucan wanted answers.
Vaughn whistled. “Startling observation skills, Holmes. Where did you find this guy, B?”
“He’s a friend of the family,” she answered, although friend no longer fit the role Lucan filled in her life. Neither did the fantasy she’d foolishly indulged in before reality had come crashing down around her.
The only thing worse than her brothers pressing her for details about her mate would be Lucan doing the same. There was no point in telling him anything when he’d been very clear about his feelings.
Elena strolled between her and Lucan, keeping both the dragon and Vaughn in her peripheral vision. So she considered both of them a threat?
The sorceress glanced at the sky. “An illusion.”
“It’s real.” Kel countered.
“We don’t even know where we are.” Briana tried changing the subject. If Lucan had to learn the truth, she’d prefer it not to be surrounded by a group of immortals that would find a way to use that knowledge against them. “We could be in the catacombs for all we know.” No one knew just how strong of an illusion the endless caverns and connecting tunnels could fabricate.
Kel arched a brow. “Clearly you’ve never felt the sun on your skin then.”
And the dragon had? He had to be mated then. Briana shivered at the thought of sharing that kind of bond with a gargoyle renowned for sacrificing his race’s well-being for personal gain, and cutting down those he’d called friends, leaving the path open for Arthur to be fatally wounded.
Elena tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder. “The castle rooms above both felt and smelled real, and yet faded faster than ashes on the wind by the time I reached the bottom of the stairs.”
Kel frowned at the subtle dig, but had no argument.
“It’s not real,” Vaughn added. “Not unless I’ve just found my mate.” He winked at Elena.
The sorceress rolled her eyes. “I’d sooner be burned at the stake.”
“So I’m not the only one who noticed our chemistry could set us both on fire.” Vaughn grinned, then yelped a second later, scrambling away from Elena.
The white towel he wore had a black scorch mark a few inches to the right of Vaughn’s groin.
Just as cocky as ever, his eyes gleamed with mischief. “You missed.”
“Did I?” Elena shrugged and ventured a little closer to one of the trees.
Hoping that settled the matter of the sun for now, Briana surveyed the gathered immortals. “Does anyone know who brought us here?”
“A god would be my guess.”
They turned at the sound of a new voice. Sweet Avalon, how many of them had been brought here?
Another immortal moved around the pool and through the trees toward them. A Fae, Briana guessed, feeling the suffocating press of old magic—very old magic—until it stretched over her skin like a glove that was trying to fit.
The Korrigan shuddered in distaste and Vaughn growled in warning.
The sensation faded quicker than expected, chilling Briana. Had the demonstration of power been intentional? The subtle frown on the Fae’s face suggested otherwise, but no being as old as the fair-haired male would have such a weak grip on his abilities.
“Told you,” the Korrigan hissed, taking an accusing step toward Nessa.
“Rhiannon’s not involved.” Nessa regarded the Korrigan with the same casual disregard for a worm under her boot.
“He just said—” the Korrigan began to argue.
“He,” the Fae clarified, his fingers tightening on a walking stick he clutched in his hand, “said it was a god. I never said which one.”
“The other gods sleep.” The Korrigan turned away, giving no indication he was intimidated by the Fae’s show of strength.
Briana wasn’t so willing to dismiss it, but the cat didn’t feel overly threatened by it either. Strange. Almost as strange as the colored blossoms on the trees pulsing faster as the Fae passed them.
“Are you certain?” the Fae asked. Appearing half-bored by the conversation already, the old one—who would’ve barely passed for twenty-five in the mortal realm—wandered around the courtyard, a curious guest fascinated with his surroundings. He didn’t comment on the tree blossoms but gave the overhanging branches a wide berth.
They worried even the Fae then.
Lucan caught Briana’s elbow and coaxed her as far away from the others as they could manage. Vaughn started to follow, hesitating only when Lucan stared him down.
“If you hurt her,” the wolf warned, baring his teeth.
“Back off.” Lucan took a threatening step toward the wolf, forcing Briana to put herself between them. While part of her wanted nothing more than to be alone and figure out a way to put Lucan out of both her mind and heart, no one else seemed capable of keeping the peace.
“He’s out of your league, pup,” Elena warned. Vaughn snarled at her advice, and she grinned and glanced at Nessa. “Fido might have a little bite to him after all.”
Ignoring the two women trading remark
s, Briana nodded at her friend. “I’m fine, Vaughn.” She couldn’t say the same about Lucan though. Far too much black pooled in his eyes.
With another growl, Vaughn turned away, steering clear of both Elena and Nessa.
Lucan’s gaze followed him, and he took a step as if planning to go after Vaughn anyway.
“Hey.” She grabbed Lucan’s arm.
Lucan whipped around, his eyes dark and soulless. He cocked his head, but it wasn’t him considering her so carefully. The wraith was back and more than a little eager to wreak havoc if the tightening of his fingers around his sword was anything to go by.
She really didn’t need any more complications, and an unpredictable killing machine definitely complicated the hell out of everything. Glancing at his wounded hand, she wondered if that had anything to do with why the wraith continued to surface. For all she knew it happened a lot and she just hadn’t spent enough time around Lucan to know the difference.
Either way, it didn’t change anything. The wraith was here now, watching her intently. As if he knew she was trying to figure out what to do next, the wraith leaned in, lowering his head.
She kept still as his chest brushed hers, and the familiar scent of Lucan wrapped around her. Her gaze slid away from his long enough to confirm only the Fae paid them any attention.
Maybe too close attention.
The others had begun to argue again, fueled by the Korrigan insisting Rhiannon had to be responsible and what was Nessa going to do about it. Someone else would have to keep things from escalating. She had bigger problems at the moment.
The wraith inhaled, edging closer until their bodies touched. He felt much cooler now and a sliver of menace crackled on the air between them. The cat stirred, raking its claws along the edges of her mind the way it did when it wanted to play rough.
Not the reaction she would have expected.
“Luc,” she whispered, willing him to come back. At least then she’d know what she was dealing with.
His mouth whispered across her neck, and the harder her pulse pounded, the longer he lingered, his breath hot on her skin.
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