by Laurell K. Hamilton, Charlaine Harris, MaryJanice Davidson, Angela Knight, Vickie Taylor
He shrugged, pouring the contents of the bottle into the glasses. "Hey, what else do I need? I don't eat anything that's not in the magic wet bar here. Any visitors who need something more substantial are probably Majae, and they can conjure their own food."
"You've got a point." She crossed the room to look down. Jutting from the cliff thirty feet below and off to the left was another circular platform. A pool shimmered in the center of it, its surface rippling from the waterfall tumbling down the cliff to splash into one end. "I've got to admit, this is impressive."
"Morgana built it for me." He walked over and handed her a glass.
Caroline took it. "How'd you get her to do that?"
"We were lovers at the time."
"You banged the dragon lady? You are brave."
"That's exactly what my brother knights said." He smiled a little dryly and took a sip. "We lasted an entire decade before I managed to piss her off. I still hold the record for longest-running relationship with Morgana Le Fay."
"Hey, better than I did with Dominic." Caroline swallowed a mouthful from her own glass, shuddered at the taste, and turned it into Pepsi. "Do you always drink like this?"
Galahad shot her a look. "I'm a vampire, Caroline. The only drinking problem I have is making sure I've got a date on Saturday night."
"You silver-tongued romantic, you."
His smile was wicked. "I didn't hear you complaining."
Caroline turned to watch as he walked back across the room in that muscular, long-legged stalk of his. Damn, the man looked good even wearing more metal than a can of tuna.
It was probably just as well it was so close to dawn. Given her romantic track record, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to yield to Galahad's potent temptation.
He sank down on the bed and slumped, looking tired. "Can you help me with my armor? I doubt I have time to take it all off before the sun comes up."
"Sure. Where do you want it?"
He gestured vaguely. "Over there's fine."
Caroline cast a quick spell, and the suit vanished from his body to take up residence in a neat pile. Her own joined it an instant later.
Galahad looked down at the pair of silk pajama bottoms she'd given him to replace it. "Nice. Thanks." He rubbed absently at his chest. "And I'm clean, too. Aren't you efficient?"
She shrugged and straightened the hem of her own cotton pajamas. "That's the nice thing about magic. It's a great time-saver."
As he rose to pull down the covers, it suddenly occurred to her there was only one bed. But before any real alarm could set in, she got a good look at his back and forgot about everything else. A rainbow of scrapes and bruises decorated his ribs. "What happened to you?"
He glanced up at her as he slid under the covers. "Got into a fight with a pedophile earlier tonight. Bastard had an axe. Armor kept it from cutting me in half, but the impact was a bitch." A pained grunt escaped him as he lay back.
Concerned, Caroline crossed the room to his side, frowning. "You want me to heal that?"
He shrugged. "My body will take care of it by sunset. It's one of the few kinds of magic I do have."
"But you're hurting now. Let me fix it." She could see the pain in his eyes, and it bothered her.
Reaching out a hand, Caroline rested her fingers against the side of his face and reached for her magic. Carefully, she sent it into him in the same gentle stream she used tending her own aches, seeking out his injuries and healing them. As she watched, the bruises faded and disappeared.
He sighed and relaxed. "Thanks."
Caroline shrugged and dropped her hand, feeling oddly shy. "Least I could do after you helped me with Father Fang and Teen Bitch."
"My pleasure, more or less." Galahad settled back against the mound of pillows. "You know, there's more than room enough for two in here."
"Honey, there's room enough for the Washington Redskins in that bed."
"Now there is a thoroughly unpleasant image."
Caroline gave him a wicked grin. "Depends on your point of view."
What the hell. She was too tired to conjure another bed anyway. She moved around to the other side and flipped the comforter back, then slid between the fine silk sheets.
They felt deliciously cool and smooth against her tired body.
With a sigh of pleasure, she snuggled in and looked at the horizon just beginning to pinken over the mountains. "Why don't you live in Avalon like everybody else? I figured you for a castle or something."
"I was never one for conspicuous consumption. Besides, sometimes I just don't need to be around people." He paused, and something a little dark moved behind his eyes. "I kill too many of them."
She bit her lip, painfully reminded of the girl she'd blasted. "Yeah. I guess I can understand that."
"It's nice to come here and look out at the stars and watch the dragons."
Caroline straightened. "You've got dragons? Here? You're kidding me!"
"Nope. They don't come around Avalon much. Too many people." He extended a brawny arm to point at a winged shape turning lazy circles out over the mountains. "There's one now."
She saw it breathe a long, lacy plume of flame. "Wow? Why did it do that?"
"Probably just target practice." He slid an arm around her.
She rested her head against his shoulder, watching the dragon. "What happens when the sun comes up?"
"The spell barrier filters out most of the light." Galahad rested his temple against hers. His late-night stubble rasped over her hair, the sensation oddly sensual. "Sometimes if I watch, I can just see the first little bit of the dawn."
They fell silent as the horizon slowly blushed rose behind the mountains. Another dragon came out to chase the first, dancing in the rising currents of magic. A sliver of bright disk edged upward.
"Look," Galahad said, his voice soft. "There it…"
But when Caroline lifted her head, his eyes were closed.
He sprawled halfway across the bed, his muscular arms flung wide, his dark hair tangled around his tired face. She caught her breath at his raw male beauty. Something in her chest contracted into a tight, aching ball.
Dammit, Caroline, don't you dare fall for him. Maybe she ought to conjure that second bed after all.
But before she could do it, she caught a glimpse of movement at the corner of her eye.
The dragon hung in the air looking in at her, its great wings beating lazily. Scales shimmered in the rising sun, green and blue dancing along the whipping tail. Its head was long and elegant and oddly delicate compared to the solid muscle of its body. Its eyes met hers, glowing iridescent in the light of dawn, intelligent and alien. Then it turned and flew away.
With a sigh, Caroline lay her head back down on Galahad's chest to watch.
THE dull gold of Geirolf's Grail was worked with naked human figures writhing together like a nest of mating snakes. They seemed engaged in every possible perversion.
And a good portion of them seemed to be killing the mates.
Fascinated, Marilyn turned the cup between her palms, holding it as she waited for the sun to rise. She'd found it on the Grange's body after she'd killed him, along with a note for the priest's daughter.
Terri Grange had apparently had a little crush on her father's lieutenant, which was why she'd transported it into the pack he carried in case his magic ran out. The note that was included said she hadn't warned him she was sending because she was afraid of distracting him during battle. The key to everything was slung around his waist, and he hasn't even known it. Marilyn rather appreciated the irony.
Now he and his supporters were dead. And so, her magic told her, was the priest and that little bitch, Terri.
The remaining members of the cult had been quick to see logic. They all knew Marilyn had a way with a spell. And between betraying Steve and the other kills she'd racked up, she had more than enough power for some very nasty magic.
Which didn't mean she had any intention of taking on the witch and the vampir
e knight Terri had described in her magic note. At least, not yet. For one thing, the cult's headquarters were located in Virginia—two time zones later than the Texas farmhouse they now occupied. The sun had already risen there, so it wasn't a good idea to gate back.
Besides, there were only fifteen members of the cult left. Marilyn wanted better odds when they went after their Magekind foes, which was why she decided the cult would camp for the night in their defeated enemy's headquarters.
Luckily she'd found several intriguing cages in the attic, stocked with pissed-off prisoners. To Marilyn's experienced eye, the ten men looked like a nice, beefy collection of potential warriors. Apparently the eco-terrorists had planned to magically recruit them once they got their hands on the cup.
Which gave Marilyn an idea. A little brainwashing, a shot from the cup, a murder or two for power and blood, and they'd be ready to give Arthur's idiots the shock of their lives.
She couldn't wait.
THE stench rolled out of the darkness in waves. Fear gripped Galahad, sick and cold, but he knew his duty. He took a deep breath, reached down, caught the rope handle of the trapdoor, and pulled. It creaked upward, carrying the smell of rotting meat.
Mentally bracing himself, he aimed the enchanted gem set in his gauntlet down into the hole and activated it with a whispered chant. White light spilled from it.
The little corpses lay naked, piled like dolls tossed aside by a sadistic child. "Oh, Merlin's Grail," he whispered hoarsely. "No."
As he stared helplessly, one of the bodies stirred. For a moment, his heart stopped, thinking perhaps the boy had somehow survived.
Then a face looked up at him that didn't belong to anything still living. "Why didn't you come in time?"
A hoarse scream tearing his throat, Galahad jolted awake.
7
"GALAHAD?"
He jerked around, his muscles coiling to strike out. Caroline blinked at him, her dark eyes wide and startled. His sleep-drugged brain jarred to full consciousness with a sense of relief.
A dream. It had been a dream.
He rolled out of bed and staggered toward the stairs, vaguely aware that she was hurrying after him. "Galahad? What's wrong?"
He didn't trust himself to answer. The sticky weight of fear and failure clung to his shoulders like a rotting shroud.
The minute he reached the exercise room, Galahad stripped off his pants and dove into the pool with the desperation of a man hungry to wash his demons away.
The shock of hitting the water blasted him fully awake, and he started stroking hard, trying to power his way through his lingering depression.
Sometimes he fucking hated this job. No matter how many battles he won, the war never ended. There was al-ways another fight, on and on, world without end: Nazis, communists, terrorists, serial killers, psychopaths of every stripe.
And no matter how many bad guys he killed, he was always too late to save some innocent. The pit in his dreams had no fucking bottom. Gritting his teeth, he swam harder.
Finally he stopped pushing and rolled over on his back to float, his muscles jumping from the effort he'd demanded of them.
"You want to tell me what's eating you?" Caroline said.
Galahad looked over at her. She stood on the edge of the pool, watching him. The silky peach pajamas she wore emphasized the length of her legs and the sweet, high curves of her breasts. Hunger rose, sudden and violent. He tried to push it aside. She was still gun-shy from that asshole Dominic. "I hate the day-sleep," he told her finally over the patter of the waterfall. "I get nightmares like you would not believe, but I can't wake up."
Sympathy warmed her dark, lovely eyes. "I know what you mean. I had some nasty ones myself. I doubt I got more than four or five hours sleep." She sighed, making those lush breasts rise and fall. Her tight little nipples tented the fabric.
He remembered the way they'd felt hardening against his palms. Remembered the slick, tight grip of her sex as he'd stroked a finger inside. She'd feel impossibly good around his cock, which was suddenly rock-hard and aching.
God, he needed her. He needed the forgetfulness he'd find in her body. She was so damn clean. So innocent of the kind of shit he had to wade in every single day. He wanted to see the passion overtake that pretty face. Wanted to forget all the innocents he'd failed, all the men he'd killed. He wanted to plunge into her the way he'd plunged into the pool and just forget. His cock hardened in a hungry rash, arching over his belly as he floated on his back. "Caroline." His voice came out rougher than he intended, rasping with need rather than the smooth note of seduction he'd intended.
She took a wary step back. "As impressed as I am by that morning broadsword of yours, may I remind you we've got vampires to kill?"
Dammit, she had a point. "I assume they're back in their burrow by now."
"Actually, no. Not yet."
Galahad jackknifed upright until he could stand in the cool, shoulder-deep water. Despite both the temperature and the situation, his cock refused to get the message. He ignored it. "Any idea where they are?"
"No." She shrugged, a gesture that did marvelous things to those sweet, unbound breasts. "I spent the afternoon trying to figure out how to work a locator spell. No luck. But according to the vision that started this mess, they are coming back."
"So we wait." He gave her his best wolfish grin. "I have a couple of ideas about how to pass the time."
Caroline took another step back. "Pinochle?"
"How about a nice, rousing game of hide the broadsword?"
That pretty pink tongue crept out to lick her lips. "Don't do this to me, Galahad. I'm still recovering from Dominic."
"That prick needs his ass kicked," Galahad growled, frustrated. "My father was a court seducer before he met his new wife. They're supposed to keep it light, not convince you you're in love."
"Yeah, well, Dominic all but promised me a ring."
"You want me to beat him up?" He bared his teeth, meaning it.
She laughed, the sound throaty and impossibly seductive. "It's tempting."
Galahad stared at her, aching. "I need you, Caroline." The words emerged as more naked than he intended, but he didn't take them back. "Help me forget this. Just for an hour. That's all I need."
She looked at him. Her expression softened at whatever she saw on his face. "All right."
Light flashed, and the pajamas became a string bikini that made his dick rock-hard all over again. Before he could get the full effect of all those luscious curves, she dove in.
Galahad grinned, his heart lifting at the prospect of having Caroline to himself. Suddenly he was in the mood to play.
WHEN Caroline surfaced, the lights were out, leaving the room lit only by the Mageverse sky and moonlight reflecting off the water. Galahad was nowhere to be seen—not that she could see much anyway.
What's he up to now? Her heart began to pound as she looked around, expecting him to surface any second and pounce. The reflections on the water were so bright, she couldn't make out anything under them. Automatically, she tried to conjure a light.
Nothing happened.
"If I don't want you to use magic in my house, you can't use magic in my house," Galahad said from behind her, his breath warm on her ear.
Caroline jumped and whirled around barely in time to see the ripple as he submerged again. "Come back here, you big jerk!" She tried to levitate him out of the water, but he was gone. There must be a dampening spell built into the house he could order on and off. Which meant she was helpless.
All alone in the dark with a horny Galahad. A wicked little thrill ran up her spine.
This was going to be fun.
Which didn't mean she was going to make it easy. She had her pride. Drawing in a deep breath, Caroline ducked under and shot toward the other end of the pool, swimming in long, strong strokes. As she flashed through the water, male fingers brushed her ankle, just missing a grab.
Ha! Caught him off guard.
Not for long.
Powerful arms closed around her waist and pulled her upright. Her head broke the surface. As she gasped in surprise, Galahad's mouth covered hers in a devouring kiss. He hauled her close against the hard strength of his body, one hand cupping her backside, the other stroking her breast, fingers teasing one nipple into aching erection. She leaned into him with a moan of hunger. He lifted his head, flashed her a triumph grin, and let her go.
And then he was gone.
Unsupported, she sank. Shutting her mouth barely in time to avoid sucking in a lungful of pool, Caroline looked around wildly. Underwater in the darkness, she couldn't make out a damn thing but dim flashes from the surface.
While vampires could see in the dark. Dammit.
Okay, so he had an advantage. They'd just see how long it lasted. Kicking twice, Caroline broke the surface, drew a breath, and dove under again.
Fingers tweaked her nipple through the thin fabric of her top. The fleeting pleasure almost made her gasp. Her heart pounding in a blend of atavistic fear and arousal, she kicked hard, trying to make it a little tougher for him to get those wicked hands on her.
But the minute she surfaced again, he grabbed the ties of her bathing suit top. One ruthless jerk snapped it. Before she could turn, he freed the knot holding the top around her neck and pulled it away.
Caroline whirled in time to see the top disappear under the surface with him. "You're beginning to piss me off, Galahad!"
Arousal pulsed between her thighs. She licked her lips and thought of everything she'd like to do to him when she caught him.
Then she imagined everything he could do to her, and the heat increased even more.
Just behind her, he whispered, "I like to play with my food." Long fingers closed around her hips, dragging her backward.
Then she was plastered against Galahad again, her back to his brawny chest, his hard cock pressing her backside. His sword-callused hands slid up over her bare breasts to capture both peaks between thumb and forefinger. Pleasure spooled through her as he gently plucked them taut. "Breakfast," he purred.
Caroline panted as hot little flashes of pleasure skated across her nerves. "You've got a kinky streak, Galahad."