Master of Fire

by Angela Knight

  Logan stiffened. “I didn’t say I was in love.”

  She shot him a glower. “You didn’t have to.”

  “I cannot have my warriors ignoring my orders.” Arthur’s voice sank into the deadly whisper that communicated rage far more clearly than any bellow. “When I lead my people into battle, a moment’s disobedience could kill us all.”

  “We’re not in battle, Arthur.” Gwen glared at him even as she maintained a firm grip on the cat.

  “Davis could tell you differently,” Arthur snapped. “If, that is, that idiot Maja hadn’t gotten him killed.”

  “She’s not an idiot,” Logan ground out between clenched teeth. “She’s quite literally a genius, and I wouldn’t be here now if she hadn’t saved my ass—twice. She may lack experience, but that doesn’t make her incompetent.”

  “She still disobeyed a direct order. When I was High King, I had warriors flogged for less.”

  “Knights,” Gwen corrected coolly. “Not ladies. You’ve never laid a hand on one of my ladies. Not even me, and I deserved it.”

  Arthur huffed. He eyed Logan a long moment. Whatever he saw in his son’s face made his own expression warm fractionally. When he spoke again, his tone was a bit more conciliatory. “So. Despite her mistakes, you seem to have a high opinion of this girl.”

  “She’s brilliant, she’s got courage. She doesn’t back down. And . . .” I want her.

  Arthur’s dark gaze softened. “But do you love her?”

  Logan opened his mouth for an automatic denial. Then he closed it again and sighed. He’d never been able to lie to his father. “I don’t know. I know I was falling for the woman I thought she was, but I’m not sure now how much of that was real. All I’m really sure of is that I want the chance to find out. Besides, it’s time I become a vampire. I need a Magus’s powers to avenge my friend, not to mention all the Latents those bastards have killed.”

  “You don’t need the girl for that,” Arthur pointed out. “Any Maja will do as well. La Belle Coeur—you had a crush on her, as I recall.”

  “Yeah, when I was fourteen. I haven’t been fourteen in a long time.” He met his father’s gaze steadily. “I want Giada, Dad. Rescind the order. Find another way to punish her if you have to, but don’t keep us apart.”

  “Dammit. Very well, then.” Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “But make no mistake—she will be punished.” His voice dropped to a mutter. “As soon as I can come up with something appropriate.”

  “Thank you.” Knotted muscles relaxing, Logan allowed himself a smile.

  “Orders notwithstanding, there’s no guarantee she’ll agree to give you the Gift.”

  “I can take care of the rest, Dad.”

  “It’s not going to be that easy, boy,” Smoke observed. “She’s pretty pissed.”

  “And I’m pretty stubborn.” He gave them all a grin and headed for the door.

  As it closed behind him, Smoke looked up at Guinevere. “He has a great deal to learn.”

  “It’s that hard Pendragon head.” Guinevere bent and let the cat leap to the floor. “I’d better get her new orders sent before the shouting starts.” She disappeared through the hallway door, leaving Smoke and her husband alone.

  “Does Giada love him back?” Arthur asked in a low voice.

  “Oh, yes.” Smoke looked up at him. “But he hurt her more than he realizes. She’s very young and very vulnerable.”

  “And very beautiful.” Arthur stared blindly at the door his wife had vanished through. “A woman like that can find a man’s vulnerabilities and pry him apart.” A very faint smile touched his mouth. “Or make him more than he ever was before.”

  The great black wolf bounded through the thick mountain woods, sending a squirrel fleeing from his path with a panicked squeak. Ordinarily, he would have entertained himself with a chase, but there were more serious matters on his mind at the moment.

  It was dark in the mountain woods this night, with only a thin sliver of moon providing any light at all. But the wolf’s eyes were so sensitive, he found his way to the sheer gray-granite cliff with ease.

  As he stopped before it, a section of the cliff face began to shimmer, melting away like a mist. A great black cave entrance appeared. The wolf trotted into it. The minute he vanished into the darkness, the opening disappeared as the cliff face solidified again.

  Inside, the wolf paused as a soft, dim light began to radiate from the tunnel walls, for even one such as he couldn’t see in total darkness. The beast shut his eyes and bent his head, concentrating. He began to glow, his outline flaring bright, shifting. When the light vanished, a man stood in the beast’s place.

  George Devon Jr. straightened his broad shoulders and ran a manicured hand over his dark hair, making sure no strand was out of place. He’d worn what he considered casual clothes—a pair of dark tailored slacks and a navy silk shirt that made the most of his athletic build. His feet were shod in expensive loafers, a match for the black belt that circled his narrow waist. A thick gold ring glinted on one hand, adorned with a black gem in the shape of a stylized wolf head. An iridescent shimmer danced over the ring’s stone with every move he made.

  He padded down the long tunnel, feeling his stomach flutter with nerves. That annoyed him. Men trembled in his presence, awed by his wealth and power. He did not tremble.

  But Warlock was no ordinary man—or even Dire Wolf.

  Still, Devon was damned if he’d cower before the immortal, so he forced confidence into his stride, arrogance into the tilt of his dark head. The pose felt natural to him, habitual.

  Rounding a corner, he stepped into a cavern so brightly lit, his dark-adjusted eyes were momentarily blinded. He stopped, knowing that’s exactly what Warlock intended. His guests’ temporary blindness gave the immortal an advantage if he chose to kill them.

  “Lord Devon.” Warlock rumbled his name with the faintest edge of warning growl. “What brings you here this night?”

  He resisted the urge to lick his dry lips. “My daughter has made a discovery I thought might be of interest to you.”

  “Your daughter?” There was the faintest note of incredulous contempt in Warlock’s voice, as if no woman could have discovered anything worthwhile. Which was true enough. Still, unlikely as it seemed, the girl had found something.

  Devon’s sight began to clear, and he blinked hard as the cavern came into focus, its gray stone walls glittering with flecks of quartz.

  Warlock loomed over him in Dire Wolf form—eight feet tall, his fur a short white pelt over most of his body, except for the thick mane that fluffed like a lion’s around his lupine head and fluffed around his heavy sex. His eyes gleamed, bright orange flecked with gold—warm colors given a chill by their feral, inhuman expression. The immortal rarely deigned to assume human form. “So tell me what this daughter of yours has found.”

  Devon drew himself to his full height under Warlock’s ancient gaze. “The Maja who has been guarding Arthur’s son was accompanied by some kind of cat. Much bigger than a tiger, and black, with silver stripes on the haunches. She said it was surrounded by ancient magic more intense than anything she’d ever felt.”

  Warlock’s head jerked up, his orange eyes widening with astonishment. “She saw the godling?” It was barely a whisper. An enormous hand fell on Devon’s shoulder and squeezed in demand. Devon hid a wince as long claws dug into his flesh. “Tell me. Tell me everything . . .”

  Giada stared at the parchment scroll with its flowing handwritten script, not sure whether to be relieved or furious.

  “In light of your service in saving the life of our son, be advised that your house arrest has been rescinded, and you now have permission to have whatsoever contact you choose with Logan MacRoy.

  “In lieu of said house arrest, you are hereby ordered to present yourself to Magus Lord Arthur Pendragon for training in sword-craft. Maja Lady Guinevere Pendragon will likewise instruct you in magical combat. Such training will commence after you have successfully comple
ted your current mission of identifying and aiding in the apprehension of those who have sought to kill Logan MacRoy.”

  It was signed by both Arthur and Guinevere.

  “Damn.” She let the scroll roll closed and tossed it on the coffee table, throwing a brooding look at the front door. Logan would be showing up any minute now.

  At least Arthur hadn’t ordered her to sleep with him, so she could always say no.

  If, that is, she could muster sufficient willpower.

  She flung herself back on the couch—and grimaced as the room revolved around her. Her stomach rolled, threatening to expel everything she’d eaten in the last two days.

  Smoke had been right about the Rocky Road/chocolate liqueur combo.

  Shuddering, Giada cast a healing spell on herself. Magic poured from her hands to swirl around her body in a cascade of light. The nausea promptly faded as the spins slowed and stopped. She closed her tear-swollen eyes in relief.

  Maybe when Logan showed up, she’d just pretend to be asleep. Come to think of it, she could even arrange a magical coma, just for a week or two. Let him find some other witch to pester with his delicious kisses and strong, warm hands and massive . . .

  Shut up, Giada.

  Despite her best efforts, remembered images and sensations stormed through her mind: Logan, gloriously naked, bracing his big body over hers as he prepared to thrust deep. His mouth moving over her skin, seducing her so tenderly, spinning glorious sensations over her body. His hands, his teeth, his roar of pleasure . . .

  Then he turned on you like a rabid wolf, she reminded herself. Are you going to stick your head between his jaws and let him take another bite?

  She’d have to be an idiot.

  Yet even as her common sense warned her to keep away, there was a part of her that longed for him. A very big part of her. Way too big.

  I’m in love with him. She threw an arm over her face as her eyes began to sting. Dammit, I am not going to start crying again. I’ve got to quit acting like such a wimp. I’m a Maja, a warrior of Avalon.

  The doorbell rang. “Giada?” Logan called through the door.

  She lifted her voice and hoped she sounded angry instead of agonized. “Go. Away!”

  “Look, would you please let me in? I want to apologize.”

  “Send a card.”

  “Giada . . .”

  “Logan, I don’t want to hear . . .” An image flashed through her mind—Logan, lips drawn back from fangs as he roared in rage. A huge black Dire Wolf loomed over him, massive as a grizzly as it struck out at him with enormous claws.

  More images came, faster and faster, sucking her down into a chilling nightmare blur. Devices with timers counting down. Gaping jaws with bloody teeth. Heather and Andy, faces tear-streaked and white with terror. Slashing claws, eyes that glowed with magic and mad rage. A white wolf, a red wolf, and a black wolf.

  Logan again, fangs bared. Agony, hot and burning, as phantom jaws ripped into her flesh . . .

  She screamed.

  THIRTEEN

  Logan stared at the closed door, feeling his stomach sink deeper with every minute she refused to come to it.

  Then she screamed.

  It was a cry of pure, distilled terror. Spiraling into a name: “Logan!”

  “Giada!”

  Another scream, even more piercing than the first, accompanied by the thump of a body hitting the floor.

  Logan reared back, swung a booted foot up, and sent it smashing into the door. It burst open in a rain of splinters, and he plunged inside, gaze sweeping the room, looking for enemies, wishing he had his gun.

  The living room was empty except for Giada, writhing on the floor, her screams slicing his heart like razors.

  He was on his knees beside her with no memory of crossing the room. When he snatched her into his arms, one flailing hand slapped against the side of his head with a Maja’s strength. He winced and caught her wrist. “Giada! Giada, baby, what’s wrong? What’s happening?”

  Her eyes rolled, wild and wide, not seeing him at all. He knew that expression from his boyhood, on those occasions his mother had a particularly bad vision.

  But Gwen had never convulsed like this. He started to go for the cell phone on his belt, only to realize it wouldn’t work in the Mageverse. Besides, the Greendale County Rescue Squad couldn’t exactly open a dimensional gate.

  What was worse, neither could he. He couldn’t even use magic to call for help.

  Heart pounding a furious drumbeat of terror, Logan dragged her close. “Giada! Giada, it’s all right, you’re safe! Come on, baby, come back, come back . . .”

  He was just about to snatch her off the floor and carry her in search of the nearest Maja when she went completely limp. Terror iced his veins, until he realized she was still breathing.

  After an endless moment, she blinked and focused on him, her gray eyes dazed. “Logan?” Her voice broke, raspy from screaming.

  His relief was so great, he thought for a moment he was going to pass out. “Hey. Hey, baby, you’re back!” He smoothed her tangled blond hair back from her face.

  “Where did you . . .” She stopped to clear her throat, swallow. “How did you get inside?”

  “You started screaming.” He gave her a strained smile. “I kicked in the door. What happened?”

  “Vision.” She closed her eyes, only to pop them open again, fear on her face, as if she’d seen something horrible in that instant.

  Logan stroked her face, trying to soothe her. “What did you see?”

  “Dire Wolves. Three huge Dire Wolves. One of them was snow-white. Another one was black.” She licked her lips. “And one had red fur like the one that attacked Smoke and me when we caught the bomber.”

  “So there were three of them?”

  She nodded, rubbing a hand over her face, her expression weary. “And I saw the sheriff’s grandkids again. They were terrified. We’ve got to warn him.”

  “And tell him what? There are werewolves after Heather and Andy? Yeah, that’ll go over well.”

  She glowered at him. “Well, we can’t just let them have those kids, Logan.”

  “Of course not, but we can get Smoke to keep an eye on them. Heather loves cats—she’ll be happy to let him hang around. And if it comes down to a fight between Smoke and a Dire Wolf, my money’s on Smoke. He can assume any damn form he wants to, and he could give Merlin a run in the magic department.”

  Giada considered the idea, then nodded. “Yeah. But we’re going to have to get him over there now. I don’t want to leave those children alone one minute more than we have to. I’d better call him.”

  Five minutes later, Smoke was sitting on Giada’s coffee table, listening with tail-lashing attention as she described her vision. “Bastards,” he snarled. “Involving children in this mess. Of course I’ll guard them.”

  Logan frowned. “We’ve got to warn the clans they’ve got rogues again.”

  Smoke snorted. “If I know Arthur, it’s already done.”

  “Wonder why they’re having so much trouble policing themselves? The last one had been killing human women for years before Lancelot and a Mageverse team killed him.”

  Giada nodded. “Kat and Ridge. I know her—she’s Lancelot’s daughter. Became a Maja at the same time I did. I heard something about a werewolf serial killer murdering her sister when Kat was only ten or so.”

  “That’s the one.” Logan grimaced. “The clans estimated he murdered twenty women. Just ripped them apart. The cops thought they’d been mauled to death by dogs.”

  “And on that note—” Smoke stood up, his tail lashing, “I’d better gate before one of those furry bastards gets to those kids. Good luck, children.” A cat-sized oval rippled into existence in midair, and he leaped through it in a single lithe bound.

  “Judging by what I saw, we’re going to need all the luck we can get,” Giada muttered.

  “Speaking of that vision . . .” He watched as she scrubbed both hands wearily over he
r face. “What else did you see?”

  “You. You were a vampire. And you were really pissed off.” She looked away from him. “I guess this means we’re supposed to fuck now.” There was a note of bitterness in her voice.

  Logan blinked at her tone. “Not like this.” The words were automatic. So was his feeling of revulsion.

  “You’ve got to Change, Logan. And apparently, I’m the Maja who’s supposed to Change you.” The resentment in her gaze sliced into his soul.

  “It can wait.” Merlin’s Cup, Logan thought, Smoke was right. I really screwed this up. And if I don’t fi nd a way to fi x things, it’s over between us before it even gets started. His mind raced desperately as he looked for a way to cool the situation off. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “A walk?” Her gaze was incredulous. “Logan, we’re on the clock. God knows what those rogues are going to do next. Not to mention that damned bomber.”

  “Look, Smoke’s watching the kids. The wolves won’t be able to touch a hair on their little heads with him on the job. Besides, we know it’s not going to happen until after I’ve Changed. That means we’ve got some time.”

  “I’d rather get it over with.”

  “You make it sound like a trip to the dentist.”

  She shrugged.

  Shit, he really had screwed things up royally. So go for the one argument she can’t refute.

  “I doubt I could get it up now if my life depended on it. Let’s just . . . take a walk. You know Mermaid Beach?” When he’d been a boy, Gwen had often gated them there to swim in the ocean, walk on the white sand, and watch the Merkind who gathered to sing and play in the shallows.

  Giada lifted her shoulders in that dismissive shrug again. “Whatever.” With a flick of her fingertips, she opened a gate. His mind working furiously, Logan followed her through.