Wicked Temptation: The Siren Coven (The Excalibur Duet)

by Kim Loraine

  I open my mouth to speak but pause when I see the glowing sword Excalibur laid across the coffee table. He reaches out, hand shaking, as though he’s afraid to touch the engraved steel.

  “What is it?” I ask, making him flinch. He drops his hand to his knee and the sword stops glowing.

  He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie. The sword responds to you. But I thought only Pendragon blood could wake it.”

  “I’m not sure. It calls to me, but I’m afraid to touch it again. The last time had me on the ground as though lightning struck me.” I bend down and take the hilt in my hand. “My lady—” Lance protests, grabbing the sword away.

  “There now, you seem right as rain.” I smile and gesture to the blade. “You’re holding it.”

  He stares from me to the sword in shock. “You tricked me.”

  “Guilty.”

  “I can’t believe—” His words end abruptly as his eyes glow a golden color and the blade emits a light to match. Wind whips around us both and I swear I hear a voice whisper his name. Then his eyes return to normal and the blade dims but retains some of the ethereal glow.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “Morgan.”

  I cock an eyebrow. “Morgan? As in Morgan le Fay?”

  “Yes. I’d know her voice anywhere. She can’t possibly still be alive.”

  My chest tightens. “You’d be surprised what witches can do.” Morgan, the woman who’d been instrumental in bringing my affair with Lancelot to light. I’d always known she was a witch, but her unhealthy obsession with both Lancelot and Arthur had kept me from forming a bond with her over magic.

  “I’ve learned the hard way that people are capable of many things I never thought possible.” His gaze burns into mine and there’s a darkness in him I hadn’t noticed before. It’s both terrifying and thrilling.

  But as I look at him, coldness creeps into my chest. I reach out and home in on his energy, willing my powers to return if only so I can see his aura. But, of course, it doesn’t work. Something isn’t quite right with him. And Morgan is nothing but trouble. If she’s alive, we’ve got bigger problems than our past.

  Chapter Eight

  Lancelot

  “Why would she be calling to you?” Gwen asks.

  I brush it off as unease grips my chest. “Perhaps it’s an echo? A spell attached to the sword?” I don’t tell her that Morgan calling to me means the end of my life as I know it. I can’t. If she truly is still alive and finds me, I’ll be forced to pay my due.

  “Perhaps. She was as much a witch as I am. What aren’t you telling me? Your face is doing that stone facade thing again.”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. I’m sure it’s something she did to Excalibur in an attempt to keep Arthur close.”

  She glances at the clock and frowns. “I have to go. We’ll talk about this later. I can’t…process all this now. Morgan has been far from my thoughts for nearly a thousand years. You’re enough of a reminder of that time. I’m not ready to venture farther back there.”

  “Rest assured, I’ll do my best to keep your thoughts on the present.”

  “I have to leave now or I’ll be late.” She locks eyes with me, a challenge burning in her gaze. “You’re still coming with me, then?” she asks.

  My gaze travels her form. Perfect breasts on full display in a tight fitting shirt, thin enough I can see her nipples pressing against the fabric. And her slim legs are encased in the denim so many people here favor. “With you clothed like that? I will not deign to leave your side.”

  She lets out a sigh of utter annoyance. “Lance, this is how women dress. We show our bodies, celebrate our forms.”

  “You can celebrate it without showcasing every last curve.” My protective instincts have me unable to come to terms with her being so incredibly exposed. By the look on her face, it was the wrong thing to say.

  “I’ll do as I please. Now, if you’re coming, let’s go. Otherwise, you can leave me be.”

  I want to fight her, to tell her she has no power over me any longer, but that wouldn’t be true. She’s my queen. “Would it be so terrible to have me at your aid should you require?”

  “Yes. If you’re going to constantly judge me.”

  I fight the retort building in my chest. “I am always going to want to see you safe. Do you remember the types of men you encountered during your time with me?”

  I see it in her eyes. She remembers. My queen remembers the time I didn’t save her. Her lower lip trembles and she swipes at her cheeks. Damn it, I’ve made her cry. “How could I forget?” Her words are laced with accusation and hatred. She has so much more to be angry about than I do.

  Resignation sits heavy on my shoulders. She will never forgive me for arriving too late to spare her the unwanted touch of a man who’d wanted a taste of the queen. I need to trust her to make the right decisions. “Fine. I will stay behind. But, my lady, should you require my help…” I don’t know how she could possibly get ahold of me.

  She takes a long breath and walks toward the strange black thing hanging on the wall. It looks like some sort of stick. Then she removes it and holds it out to me. “This is a phone. See these numbers? Push on them in the order I give you.”

  I take the phone from her outstretched hand and do as she says when she rattles off a string of numbers.

  “Hold it to your ear,” she says.

  “My lady, I don’t—” A strange sound fills my ear.

  “It’s ringing,” she assures me. Then her pocket begins playing a song and she pulls out the slim device she’d used earlier, bringing it to her ear and grinning. “Hello?”

  Her voice fills my head and I step back. “Gwen?”

  “This is how a phone works. You dial those numbers and get me.” She presses on her phone and puts it away, her voice disappearing from my ear. Then her eyes lock on mine. “Wherever I am.”

  She smiles wider and takes the receiver from my hand, turning it over and pointing to a button that says Answer. “Push that if it rings. I’ll call you if I need you. I promise.”

  I hate this. I hate that she’s leaving. “I will answer your call.”

  It physically hurts me to not follow her as she leaves the flat. The door closes behind her and I’m alone. As I’ve been these last many centuries.

  Hours pass slowly and my discomfort grows. Every time I close my eyes a dark curl of jealousy hits. She’s out there, her sweet smile on display, possibly being offered to every man who enters the pub. My fingers clench into fists and I grit my teeth against the unreasonable reaction. I should have more control than this, but Gwen has always broken down my barriers.

  I need a distraction. Something to steal my thoughts from the woman I shouldn’t want. My gaze turns to the sword, the light hitting the ruby encrusted hilt. Morgan’s voice whispers through my brain, a memory of the worst mistake I’ve ever made. I’d begged her to use her spells, to take away my love for my queen. And she did. She took it, buried it, and trapped me in purgatory with no way out. But none of that occurred without a blood-sealed bargain first. The words of her spell are forever etched in my mind.

  Bound by blood,

  transformed in time,

  your soul once pure,

  shall then become mine.

  As though she can sense me, Morgan’s laugh echoes in my mind and my blood burns, darkness flooding my vision. I made a deal with a wicked sorceress and she’s coming to collect.

  My ears pop as the air changes pressure sending my head spinning even as I leap to my feet, ready to defend myself.

  “Now, now, Knight. Calm yourself.” The angel Gabriel stands against the front door, a pleased expression on his face. “I’ve come to deliver unto you a message.” He glances around the flat and frowns. “Wait, where is Gwen? You two were meant to stay together.”

  “She went to…work.”

  He sighs. “Work?” Annoyance radiates from him. “I tell her to stay with you. I even lin
k her to you and still, she refuses to listen. She’s practically human and you let her go out alone? Things are more treacherous for her than ever.”

  Unease curls in my gut. “What are you talking about?”

  “There are a great many threats to humanity and all of them want the same thing, to keep you from closing the gate between worlds. Gwen is vital to your success and your trials need to begin. But that can’t happen until you take up the knight’s mantle again.”

  He walks across the floor until he’s standing over the coffee table, staring down at Excalibur. “Please, go on,” I mutter.

  “This sword…it holds great power.”

  “For someone of the Pendragon line.”

  He shakes his head. “No, no, no. For someone worthy. Arthur was a changed man after Gwen’s death. Excalibur stopped responding to him and it drove him mad. We had to remove it from him until his death.”

  I can’t stop my laughter. “And you think I am worthy? Surely you know of all my transgressions. I am stained. I betrayed my friend, my king. I sinned.”

  “If all sinners weren’t worthy, this world would be doomed.” He picks up the sword, holding it out as though testing its weight. “You saw Excalibur’s gifts during your time with Arthur, didn’t you?”

  I did. I saw my king get run through by a Saxon warrior only to rise as though he’d only been knocked down, not dealt a mortal wound. “It protected him. He never shed blood when the sword was on his person.”

  “That’s not one-hundred percent truth. That’s why your demon wound is slowly healing rather than non-existent. Well, partially. I don’t truly understand why you’re not dead. I believe the sword is helping, but you won’t take it as yours. And you’re missing its other half. Only the sword and its scabbard offer that kind of protection.”

  My thoughts drift to the jeweled leather belt Arthur always wore with Excalibur. He’d told me it was made with spells woven into the intricate detailing. I should’ve known he was telling the truth. “But we don’t have the scabbard.”

  Gabriel sighs and rolls his eyes. “Just as Excalibur had been entrusted to the archangels, this has been hidden in a place no human can easily access. You must find the sheath and claim it. Claim the belt and take Excalibur as your own.”

  “And Gwen? How is this supposed to help her?”

  “I’m…not sure. You two have to figure this out. But I know you’re instrumental in getting her magic back.”

  “Unlink us,” I say, needing to know she’ll be safe if something happens to me.

  Gabriel frowns. “Hmm…no, I don’t think I will.”

  “Unlink us, or I refuse to take this quest. God gave humans free will. I won’t be forced.”

  Letting out a long breath, he sits on the arm of the sofa and groans. “Oh, all right. But if you tell her she’s not bound to you, she’ll run as far as she can. I don’t know what you did to her, but that witch despises you.” His skin glows momentarily before returning to normal and he lets out a grunt. “Done. Now, honor your side of this bargain.”

  He tosses Excalibur into the air and the blade flips and glints in the overhead light. Instinctively, I reach out and catch it by the hilt. The blade begins to glow, but there’s no voice calling to me this time. Gabriel smiles and crosses his arms over his chest.

  “When wielded by the one meant to hold it, this blade’s magic will send demons straight back to Hell with one blow to the chest.” He chuckles to himself and mutters, “I know a vampire who would’ve liked to have that a few years earlier.”

  “Will I need to be defending myself against demons?”

  He looks sad for a moment. “Yes. They are flooding the Earth and soon they’ll be strong enough to start stealing the souls of the innocent. Gwen didn’t share that tidbit?”

  Dread curls in my stomach. “No.”

  “Lancelot, the apocalypse has begun and without the witches, we can’t close the first seal. The second is getting closer to opening every day, but the angels don’t have the kind of magic needed to stop it. The witches will. It is written.”

  Hand on the sword I ready myself to go after my Gwen. I can’t leave her out there alone with demons roaming. As though he senses my unease, Gabriel steps forward and places a hand on my shoulder. Searing pain burns along my side and Excalibur disappears. “What did you do?” Panic clutches my chest at the thought of losing the sword.

  “Relax. I do have some powers, you know. I just made the sword a sort of…invisible sheath for now. Draw your sword, knight.”

  He’s gone mad. But from the look in his eyes, I know I have to humor him. I make to draw Excalibur and rather than empty air, my hand grips the ruby encrusted hilt. I pull the sword and the blade appears. “That is…brilliant.”

  “Thank you. Protect your queen. Excalibur will aid you, if you let it.”

  Then the angel vanishes, the only remnant of him a book on the sofa. I pick it up and see a picture of a knight holding a maiden in his arms astride a horse. I take a deep breath and head for the door with nothing but hope that I can keep Gwen safe and by my side.

  Gwen

  It’s strange to be on the other side of this bar, working, pulling pints for customers. I was accustomed to seeing Izzy play this role. Human barmaid. It’s surprising as well that I find mixing drinks soothing and a lot like mixing potions. A pang of loss hits me at the thought of my magic.

  “Hello, there. You must be our new hire.” A rough, deep voice curls over me sending a shiver down my spine. When I turn my head, I catch sight of a golden-haired Adonis standing at the end of the polished wood bar.

  “Gwen,” I say, holding out a hand as I approach him.

  “Brooks.” His palm fits against mine and, God forgive me, I feel a pull toward him. His true blue eyes lock onto mine, the intensity in his gaze making my breath hitch. There’s something eerie and mesmerizing about him.

  “I thought it was just me and Liza tonight.” I pull my hand away and begin wiping down the bar as a cover for my flustered reaction to him.

  “Oh, I’m not working. I just wanted to pop round and see who my manager hired.” He takes a seat and cocks a golden eyebrow. “Pint of bitter…please, Gwen?”

  I can’t fight my smile as I pull his pint and slide it across the bar. Before I can continue our conversation, the door opens and a group of guys stumbles in. They’re a little roughed up, a lot rowdy, and before long, it’s clear they’re a rugby team celebrating a win. Liza helps me manage their booth, and the whole time, I feel Brooks’ gaze on me.

  “Why is the owner of this pub watching you like he wants to eat you?” Liza asks.

  The owner? I shrug, trying to brush off my nerves. “I think he’s making sure I know how to do this job.”

  “He never came in to check in on me.” She glances at him as she places empty pint glasses on a tray. “That man is fucking fit though. And rolling in it. Take my advice, little girl. Get after it. Hook that man and get yourself out of the service industry.”

  My cheeks heat at the thought. I’ve never given myself the chance to entertain a future with a man, especially after the one I thought would never hurt me did just that. But I’m not cursed anymore. Once this is all over, once Lance and I stop the apocalypse, maybe there will be room for…more.

  Chapter Nine

  Gwen

  “Mother of God, who is that?” Liza, the woman I’ve been working with this evening stares over my shoulder, eyes hungry and mouth slack. “Stand back and watch how it’s done.”

  It’s Lance. I can practically feel his presence. It’s always been this way with us. My body is in tune with his. It has been since we first met. Over the years it became harder and harder to hide my reaction to him at court. No wonder there had been so many rumors of our betrayal of Arthur. We were obvious even before we gave in and slept together.

  I turn and there he is, standing in the doorway, looking every inch the gallant knight, even if he’s dressed in jeans and a dark blue Henley. My heart stops
at the look in his eyes. He’s determination and confidence, regardless of the fact that he’s only ever been out in this world once before.

  As he stalks across the nearly empty pub floor, Liza preens and pulls her shoulders back to offer him a better view of her breasts. But Lancelot isn’t looking at her. He doesn’t spare her a glance. His eyes are on me.

  “What can I get you, darlin’?” Liza asks, pushing in front of me.

  “Gwen,” he says, ignoring Liza completely. She huffs but makes her way to the other side of the bar where a couple has just settled themselves.

  Brooks is still in his place at the end of the bar, his blue gaze trained on Lance. There’s a strangely defensive expression glowing in his eyes.

  “Why are you here?” I can’t help but hiss the question at Lance. He’s drawing attention to himself. “This is far from staying out of my way while I work.”

  “We have to leave.”

  A laugh escapes from me before I can stop myself. My shift is over in five minutes, but I’m not going to tell him that. “What?”

  “You will accompany me now, my lady, or I will toss you over my shoulder and carry you from this place.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you just threaten to steal me away like some kind of…of…”

  “Knight sent by God?” His eyes blaze with determined fury. “Yes. That is precisely what I threatened. The angel delivered his message and things are more dire than we first believed. Now, I’ll say it once more and give you a chance to save your dignity. We have to leave.”

  I glance across the bar at Liza and then to Brooks. I’m just hoping neither of them heard Lance. “Sit. Wait. I’m done in five minutes. Have a pint, on me.”

  I pour him a brown, something that would be as close to the ale he’d been used to. Then I finish up my last few duties, aware of both Brooks and Lance watching me.