Master of Honor (Merlin's Legacy 5)

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Master of Honor (Merlin's Legacy 5) Page 8

by Angela Knight


  “Gaia’s magic is like electricity. It must be directed, channeled. Her people had to invent technology to use it.”

  “Where did this network come from?” Kel asked.

  “Gaia grew it. Molecule by molecule, using the stone in Ulf’s ring as the seed.”

  “Why doesn’t your body reject it?” Morgana asked. “In fact, why hasn’t it killed you? That much crystal should interfere with cellular function. The way it encircles your bones should block blood cell production.”

  “No, the crystals reinforce the bones, the muscles, strengthens me…” The words seemed to be coming from a long way off, drowned out by the screaming pain in her head. It felt as if she was being crushed out of existence.

  Something cold and wet rolled down her cheeks.

  * * *

  Smoke stared at the girl in concern.

  Of course, she wasn’t really a girl -- she was pushing sixty -- but she looked about fifteen, especially with her oval face so pale. Her hazel eyes were huge, the pupils dilated until they looked like black holes surrounded by thin rings of iris. Tears rolled slowly down her face, glinting in the light of the glyphs.

  He exchanged a grim glance with Kel, who didn’t look any happier than he felt. “The spell shouldn’t be hurting her like this.” He could literally smell the pain wafting from her skin, an acrid stench underlying her normal human scent. There was an odd tang to it, too. Probably the alien crystal he, too, could see winding through her body now that he looked.

  Morgana ignored him. “What are you?” she asked, her green eyes intense as she took a step closer to the circle.

  “A failure,” Cheryl muttered softly.

  “What does that mean?”

  “They’re dead.” Her voice sounded too high. Somehow lost.

  “Who?” Smoke asked. Had the dragon creature -- or even Gaia herself -- killed mortals they didn’t know about?

  “They died,” Cheryl said in that eerie little voice. “I smell them in my dreams. Decay in my nose, filling my mouth. Ashes and failure.” Her voice rose in a high, thin cry of panicked realization. “I’m dying… dying… dead…”

  The eerie note in her voice made his tail bush. Smoke started toward the circle. “Okay, enough of this.”

  “She’s fine,” Morgana snapped. “I’m monitoring her. There’s nothing wrong with her worse than that headache. We’re close to getting what we need. If we lose our nerve, her pain is for nothing.”

  Smoke glared at her. The Liege of the Majae always had been a cold-blooded little bitch. Unfortunately, she also had a point. If they pulled the plug now, they were back where they’d started. Besides, a headache wasn’t exactly drawing and quartering.

  The girl jolted to her feet, staring around, eyes wide and glassy with despair. Whatever she was seeing, he doubted it was the room. “I failed! After everything I sacrificed, I still failed.”

  Morgana’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

  Cheryl turned toward the witch, then had to take a staggering step when she almost fell on her face. “I was supposed to stop it,” she said in a breathy voice. “But I couldn’t. No matter how many I killed, it was never enough.”

  “Who were you trying to kill, and why?” Smoke demanded.

  “It was my job. I was the weapon.”

  “Of whom? Who were you supposed to kill?” Morgana demanded.

  Cheryl said something in a liquid flow of alien words, despair in her voice.

  Morgana shook her head. “I don’t recognize that language.” She glanced at Kel, Eva, and Smoke. “Any of you?”

  “No.” Smoke frowned. He spoke every tongue of the Sidhe going back thousands of years, along with those of a host of races from mermaids to trolls. Yet he’d never heard anything like that trilling, bird-like language.

  He glanced at Kel, who gave his head a single shake. Eva moved closer, her ghostly horns glowing brighter. She blew out a frustrated breath. “Zephyr has no idea either.”

  “Repeat that in English,” Morgana commanded.

  Fury widening her eyes, Cheryl jolted to the circle’s edge and screamed at the witch, every word incomprehensible.

  Face set in stubborn lines, Morgana started firing questions. “Who died? What is Gaia? If the dragon wasn’t Gaia, who was it?”

  The girl lunged at her, only to stagger back as the circle’s edge repelled her. She began to rant again.

  Eva stepped close to Smoke and Kel. “I have a real problem with this. Morgana’s taking this too far.” Her head lowered, and the glow of her horns brightened. Smoke had seen the werewolf fire blasts of magic through those tines that had staggered Warlock. Morgana did not want to be on their receiving end.

  “This is getting us nowhere, Morgana!” Smoke shouted over Cheryl’s diatribe.

  “I agree,” Kel called. “If you don’t pull the plug on this, I’m taking her out of that circle myself.”

  The Maja snarled in frustration. “Let me attempt a translation spell…” Her hands began to sweep in an intricate pattern, drawing magical glyphs in the air.

  Cheryl was pacing around inside the circle. Her tone had shifted from anger to pleading, voice edged in grief.

  “Nothing!” Morgana spat at last, dropping her hands. “It shouldn’t have affected her like this. I’ve used this spell on humans before, and it’s never…”

  Cheryl took a jolting sideways step, swayed, and crumpled to the floor, where she began to convulse, arms and legs whipping across the stone. Morgana cursed and leaped forward, breaking the circle with a hard gesture. Another wave of her hand sent a spell swirling out to surround Cheryl’s body, restraining her from slamming against the stone floor as she seized.

  “Oh, hell,” Kel said over the grating, involuntary sounds the girl made. “Ulf is going to be pissed.”

  * * *

  Ulf came out of the Daysleep as he usually did -- in a rush of consciousness, alert for any threats, ready to fight. There’d been times during his long life that professional paranoia had been the only thing to save him.

  Raised voices. Coming from across the hall. Sounded like Smoke and Morgana arguing.

  In the room he’d given Cheryl.

  Swearing under his breath, Ulf dove out of bed, grabbed the jeans he’d shed the night before, and jerked them on.

  Kel said something about seizures. Eva answered.

  The one voice he didn’t hear was Cheryl’s, and that scared the hell out of him. Without bothering to put on shoes or a shirt, he stormed across the hall and slammed the door open. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

  Four pairs of eyes swung guiltily toward him, but he was only barely aware of them. All his attention focused on Cheryl, who lay under the covers, unmoving, her face far too pale. “What did you do to her?” He headed toward the bed, fists bunching as he turned a glare on Morgana. He knew exactly who was responsible for this mess -- nobody else would have gone behind his back. “We’d agreed you weren’t going to move without telling me!”

  Morgana tilted her chin at him, giving him that arrogant green-eyed glare. “We also agreed I would act if you got nowhere. You’ve never been rational where this mortal was concerned.”

  “She’s my mortal!” His fangs stung his upper jaw with the force of his rage. Normally, he’d take that as a sign he needed to cool off, but right now he really didn’t give a shit. “What did you do?”

  Morgana actually took a step back before she caught herself. “We didn’t hurt her. Or at least, no more than could be avoided.”

  Kel stepped between them, his gaze uneasy in a way that was almost flattering, coming from a man who could turn into a fire-breathing reptile. He raised both hands as if to show he was unarmed. “We had her in a spell circle,” he said quietly. “She didn’t react as anticipated.”

  “Is that why she smells as if she’s been tortured?” The stink of pain clung to her so sharply, it was all Ulf could do not to swing on his old friend.

  Kel sighed. “The circle wasn’t designed to i
nflict pain. And it seemed to do no worse than give her a headache… initially.”

  The need to punch the dragon in the teeth was growing overwhelming. Unfortunately, the one he really wanted to hit was Morgana, and chivalry wouldn’t permit it. Besides, she’d turn him into a frog. “What exactly, did this circle do?”

  “She had a seizure,” Eva admitted bluntly. The girl had never been good at deception, even when lying would have served her better. “I did a healing spell and got the convulsions stopped. She went to sleep, and we brought her back here.”

  “As I said, no harm done.” Morgana gave an airy wave of one hand. Apparently unaware of how close she was to losing a couple of straight white teeth, the witch frowned. “We did discover some very odd things. There is a bizarre crystalline network winding through her body. She said it grew from the stone in your signet.”

  His rage eased, diverted into puzzlement. “What kind of network?”

  “Seems to be some kind of magical technology,” Eva said, her eyes glinting in fascination. “Cheryl said Gaia’s magic has more in common with electricity on Mortal Earth. Her people have to use technology to manipulate it because it doesn’t respond to conscious intent the way ours does.”

  “She didn’t need any technology to fry the Fomorians,” Ulf pointed out.

  “Yes, which makes me wonder if she’s lying,” Morgana agreed.

  Stung, he glared. “Cheryl doesn’t lie.”

  “You’re assuming Cheryl’s calling the shots,” Morgana volleyed back at him. “And there’s the fact that she admitted she’s killed people.”

  “So has everyone else in this room.”

  “Whatever happened, she feels really guilty about it,” Eva said thoughtfully, her gaze on Cheryl’s sleeping face. “She seems haunted.” The werewolf’s gaze flicked toward Morgana, “Not exactly the reactions of a sociopath.”

  Morgana was getting on Eva’s nerves too.

  The witch tilted her chin and gave Ulf a smile that didn’t reach her guilty eyes. “Well, since the sun has obviously set, I have an appointment with Arthur. He wants a report on our findings. I’d better go.” She pivoted on a high boot heel and strode out past him.

  “I suggest the rest of you go with her,” Ulf said coldly.

  Eva was the next to make for the door. She paused beside him, biting her lip. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have…” She shook her head and escaped.

  “Yeah, we screwed up.” With a heavy sigh, the cat shifter leaped down from the bed and followed his wife.

  When Kel started out too, Ulf grabbed his upper arm. “I realize that dragon almost killed you, and you’re justifiably pissed. But if you ever touch my… Touch Cheryl when I’m in the Daysleep, I’m going to call you out, dragon or not.”

  Kel looked at him, regret in his eyes. “I’m at your service.” He dipped his head in an abbreviated bow and strode out.

  With a sigh, Ulf walked over to the bed to sit on the edge of the mattress. “You realize they knew you weren’t asleep.”

  Her eyes opened reluctantly. “Actually, I was. At least until you started threatening people.” A very small smile curled the corners of her lips. He realized she was surprised he was so angry. “You did know they were going to do that.”

  He sighed. “I assumed they’d at least have the grace to wait until I was conscious.” That last word emerged as a snarl. “I should have realized Morgana would want to avoid the inevitable row if I decided she was going too far.”

  “God, that woman’s a bitch.” She sounded tired. “I’d say Percival needs to spank her more often… except she likes that.”

  “He wouldn’t do it otherwise.” Ulf took a deep breath, grimacing at the lingering scent of sweat, pain, stress and fear clinging to her. “I’m sorry, Cheryl.”

  “I survived.” She sat up and pushed the covers down. Someone with magic had dressed her in fresh leggings and a long tee. Given the Wonder Woman logo on the shirt, it had probably been Eva. “I must smell like a goat.”

  “A goat, no. But you do smell like someone who’s had a very rough day. Want a shower?” Because if he had to sit here and marinate in her fear for much longer, he was going to hunt Morgana down. And probably end up catching flies from a lily pad.

  Cheryl gave him a tired smile. “Actually, a shower does sound pretty good.” She slid gingerly out of bed, wincing.

  “You okay?”

  She shrugged. “Stiff from the seizure.”

  “Then let’s go across the hall. My tub’s magic.”

  Her eyes lit with an expression he was coming to recognize as Cheryl getting a memory from Gaia. “Oh, yeah, the tub!”

  “Does come in handy after a battle.”

  As they walked into his bedroom, she looked around, a grin breaking through her weary exhaustion.

  Frowning, he eyed the suite. No discarded underwear, no loose swords, his armor on its mannequin instead of scattered across every surface, as it sometimes was. Yeah, stone walls and carved wainscoting made the place a bit dark. The huge mahogany bed had towering hollow posts, carved into coiling ivy vines you could see through. The bedspread and drapes were a deep golden brown bordered with embroidered ivy in dark green thread. “What’s so funny?”

  “No unicorn vomit.”

  Ulf blinked. “What?”

  “Adam said my suite looks like a unicorn threw up a rainbow.”

  “I need to redecorate.”

  When they walked into the master bath, she whistled. The sunken tub was inset in a square dark brown marble platform veined in cream and gold, four feet deep and eight across. The surrounding deck was wide enough to hold an arrangement of candles of various heights that had ignited the minute they entered. Towels and washcloths waited in neat stacks.

  A mosaic of twining dark green ivy against a white field covered the floor around the tub. The stained-glass window behind the tub depicted a ring of the same ivy motif, encircling an image of Merlin’s grail in amber glass. “Any unicorn vomit?” he asked, though she looked more impressed than amused.

  “It’s gorgeous,” she said. “And you could float a yacht in that tub.”

  Reassured, he leaned down and gestured over the tub, triggering the spell. Water began to flood it from dozens of jets. For a long moment, they stood watching the tub fill, until he could stand the silence no longer. “I’m sorry about the interrogation. Believe it or not, we don’t make a habit of that crap.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think they had any idea that spell would affect me the way it did. Besides, they’re all ridiculously honorable.” Her lips twisted into a dry smile. “With the possible exception of Morgana.”

  He laughed. “She’s not dishonorable, exactly. Just willing to do whatever it takes.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, fluffy little puppies had better not endanger humanity any time soon.”

  As the water beat a soft background thump into the tub, the silence between them grew charged. Ulf’s gaze lingered on Cheryl’s soft curving lips, the shape of her breasts under the long tee. His fangs stung his upper jaw. Her slumped shoulders straightened, and the look she gave him wasn’t nearly as “Go fuck yourself” as he probably deserved. To give himself something to do, he turned toward the matching marble vanity and its assortment of toiletries. “I think I’ve got some kind of… bath stuff? Oils and bubble bath.”

  A slow grin spread across her face. “Bubble bath?”

  “My last apprentice liked to take baths in here rather than her own chamber.” His gaze shot toward her and he cleared his throat. “Alone. I mean, I didn’t join her…” Though he’d suspected the girl had hoped otherwise. But she also hadn’t been Cheryl.

  “Yes, I know. Your friends aren’t the only ones who are ridiculously honorable.” She took one of the bottles from him, opened it for a sniff, then poured some into the water. It promptly began to foam, smelling of sandalwood.

  As Cheryl bent to test the water temperature, his gaze slid to the c
urve of her ass in the leggings. He swallowed. “I’ll… leave you alone. If you need anything…”

  “Stay.”

  He froze in the act of turning. His lips felt dry, and he licked them. “If you don’t feel comfortable bathing alone -- if you’re afraid you’ll pass out, I could call Opal or…”

  “I don’t want Opal.” She said the words quietly.

  Ulf’s mind flicked back to the love they’d made the night before. The hot reaction of her body to his, the soft skin, the lean strength. “Oh.”

  “It’s been a hell of a day,” Cheryl said in a low voice. “And I have a feeling… Well. I just need something more from you than chivalry.” She took three steps toward him, until her bare toes touched his. Reaching out, she traced a long forefinger down the center of his sternum, then outlined the curve of his pecs. Her hand brushed his nipple, and every muscle in his body tightened. “I want to be with you.” Hazel eyes darkened and lifted to meet his. “Last night wasn’t enough for me.”

  “It wasn’t enough for me either. I’ve spent too damned many years aching for the memory of you.” He lowered his head and took her mouth.

  With a purring moan, Cheryl lifted onto her toes and wrapped her slender arms around his neck. For a delicious moment, he lost himself in the taste of her, the stroke and swirl of her tongue, the sweet heat of her body.

  When he could no longer fight the need, Ulf drew away from those soft lips, caught the hem of her T-shirt, and pulled it off over her head. As he dropped it on the floor, his gaze caught on proud pink nipples, and he swallowed as heat flooded his groin.

  She reached down and cupped his erection through his jeans. Ulf closed his eyes as desire stormed him, no less violent than the night before. He’d hoped the intensity of his lust had been the simple product of almost three decades of deprivation. The heat that inundated him now destroyed that illusion. “God, I’ve missed you,” he rasped. And took her mouth again.

  The zipper hissed down, and clever little fingers took care of the button. She pulled away, her smile distinctly feline, and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of his jeans. Sinking gracefully to her knees, she pulled them down, freeing his heavy cock to bob at her eye level. She grinned at it. “Why, hello there. I remember you.”

 

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