by Jasmine Walt
“But it is the sensible thing to do. It’s Arthur’s duty to continue the line, and I was meant to be the mother of the next in this great family.”
Wow. Just…wow. “What does your heart tell you to do?”
She stared at me in confusion. “I’ve never understood why people say that. My heart? My heart loves my people, my work. If I listen to my heart, I’ll naturally do what’s best for them. My head tells me to do the logical thing, which is the same duty. What I’m trying not to pay attention to are my loins.”
If I had liquid in my mouth, I would’ve spit it out to hear such a thing come out of proper Gwin’s mouth.
“But I can’t afford such irresponsibility. So I’ll do my duty. I’ll see you both at last meal.” And with that, Gwin took off down the hall in the opposite direction that her loins desired her to go.
“Dude, this place is full of pent-up sexual tension,” Loren said. “No wonder my mother wanted to get out of here.”
I turned and faced her. She looked the same, but somehow different. “So. You’re a witch.”
Loren snorted. “Did you have any doubt?”
“How do you feel?”
“Disappointed. I can’t shoot any magic out of my hand or make things fly or brew a potion. I only have witch’s blood with none of the power.”
“But there are still perks,” I said. “You could stay here and live a long life.”
“Under a repressive dictator.”
“It’s just while there’s danger. It wasn’t always like this.” Well, there was the Middle Ages. And then the Salem Witch Trials. And even now, there were some countries that still accused individuals of witchcraft and ostracized them, imprisoned them, and, in some cases, killed them. “But this is your family.”
“You’re my family.”
I didn’t let on how much that warmed my heart, but the gush of the breath I’d been holding gave me away.
“Let’s take care of this mission first,” Loren said. “Then we’ll figure out the rest.”
She looped arms with me as I’d seen her do with Gwin as they’d strolled and chatted. We walked in a companionable silence for a few steps before she said what was on her mind.
“So,” Loren said. “There’s definitely some sexual tension between you and Arthur. This isn’t exactly a yacht, but a girl could get used to a castle.”
“There’s tension between Arthur and me, but it isn’t sexual.”
It had never been sexual. We danced around each other and flirted with our swords. But I thought if I showed him my boobs, he might be more interested in discussing their battle-ready properties than caressing either of them.
“You never hit that?” Loren asked.
“With my lady parts? No. With a blade—yeah. Once or twice.”
“I think we need to have a talk about the birds and the bees, hon.”
11
I stood under the spray of the shower and let the grime of travel and the sweat of my battle with Arthur wash away from me. It wasn’t the water that helped to clear my mind. It seemed I’d needed someone to knock some sense into me.
The bruises Arthur had delivered throbbed, but the sensation ebbed as things became clearer for me. I thought of Arthur, all alone with his duties. I thought of Gwin, unfulfilled in hers. And I thought of Lance, pining away while keeping his desires to himself.
I had no intention of going out like that. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to live an unsatisfied life. I didn’t want to yearn for someone who didn’t choose me above all others.
I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out of the bathroom. My phone sat on the bed. I sat down on the mattress and pulled the device to myself. There were no missed calls or texts. I checked my email and saw that there was a job from the IAC. I’d deal with that later.
I pulled up my contacts list. Zane was my top favorite. Had been ever since I’d gotten my very first cell phone. That original device had been a brick in my hand and it almost never connected us, but it was a lifeline while we were separated.
I hovered over the delete key but couldn’t bring myself to press it. It would’ve been an empty gesture anyway. The sequence of numbers that would connect me to him was one of the few things that was burned into my memory.
I pulled up another contact. This one I didn’t know by heart. I didn’t plan to hover too long over Tresor Mohandis’s phone number. It was time to move on.
I took a moment to plan what I’d say. I ran vocal tone options through my head.
Seductive? No, not yet. We’d only been on two dates. And one of those dates didn’t count since a dead body had been involved.
Professional? No. That would inevitably lead to a fight. If there was a hint of his business as a land developer and my business as a tree-hugging tomb-saver, we’d be at each other’s throats. And not in the good way.
Friendly? Probably not a good idea since I wasn’t trying to stay too long in the friend zone. Even though we’d only been there for a couple of months.
What was left? I ticked the options off on my fingers—seductive, professional, friendly. Was there any other way to speak to a man?
My finger slipped as I was pondering and hit the call button. I didn’t have time to think. It was answered on the first ring.
“This is Tresor Mohandis’s phone,” said a woman with a husky voice. “How may I help you?”
In the split second I’d had to plan, I’d decided to wing it and simply say hello. But the single word caught in my throat. The woman who answered Tres’s phone didn’t sound professional or friendly. Her tone dropped low into the register of seduction. I also heard a cat-like note of smirk.
I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, I thought this was Mr. Mohandis’s personal line.”
“It is.”
And then silence. But the silence felt like a challenge. The adrenaline I’d burned facing off against Arthur shot through my veins. Unfortunately for this chick, I healed fast. I cracked the bones in my neck and sat up straight, the soreness gone from my back. My busted lip was ready to take on a fight through the receiver.
“Well, is he there?” I demanded.
“I’m sorry. He’s occupied at the moment.” Her voice dripped saccharine and burned a hole through the line. “But I can take a message.”
“Well, this is his…” His what? I wasn’t his girlfriend. I wasn’t exactly his ex-lover, at least not in this century. “Tell him it’s Theta. He’ll want to talk to me.”
“Oh,” she cooed. “They all say that, sweetie.”
I reared back from the phone receiver, wishing I could reach through and wring this woman’s neck.
“I’ll just leave your name on the pile of others.”
I hung up the phone, smashing the end button repeatedly with my thumb. And then got pissed at myself because that was obviously what she’d been goading me to do. But I didn’t dare call back. I’d been humiliated enough for now.
I should’ve known better. Tresor Mohandis was a renowned playboy. He had women at his feet, including the ones who answered his personal phone. He might not have been sleeping with the saccharine phone operator, but he had handed her his phone. The line he’d given me to call him direct. Probably because he was done with me.
He’d been so preoccupied with my relationship with Zane, insisting my old boyfriend always came between us. And now that Zane and I were well and truly over, where was Tres? He’d probably just enjoyed the chase, and now that I was caught, he was on to the next challenge.
Maybe Arthur, Gwin, and Lance had it right. I should just focus on my duties, my work. My work never failed to make me happy—except when it was trying to kill me.
I tossed the phone aside. Rummaging through my bag, I finally pulled on a pair of jeans and a cotton top. Then I ran a hand through my unruly hair, headed for the door, and opened it.
Loren stood on the other side with her arm raised as though she was prepared to knock. She looked flushed in the face and happy. Like
she belonged here.
“I’m surprised you’re here,” I huffed. “I figured you’d forgotten me.”
She frowned. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”
“You’ve been hanging out with everyone but me.” That wasn’t true. She’d just left me twenty minutes ago to shower.
“Oh,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around me and resting her cheek against my shoulder. “Is poor Nia feeling left out?”
I shrugged, but she didn’t let go. Finally, I relented. When I spoke my irritation into her shoulder, the words came out muffled.
“Some stupid woman answered Tres’s phone.”
“What?” Loren reared back. “He’s cheating on us? I’ll kill him.”
Loren considered my relationship with the yacht-owning, private-jet-hopping billionaire real estate developer a family affair. Even though she and Zane got along really well, she was Team Broody Billionaire.
Zane was an artist and far from a starving one. He simply had little interest in wealth or material things. Whereas Tres set about possessing anything, and it would appear everyone, that came within his purview.
“No need,” I said. “I’m done with men. I’m going to focus solely on my work.”
“Oh. Cool. Another sabbatical from males. This time in a castle full of virile knights. Yay.”
We took off in the direction of the dining hall. When we entered, everyone was already seated. Arthur and his knights sat at a table near the doors, likely a strategic position. Though Camelot had never been breached, the knights were ever ready.
The townsfolk and their families were spread out around the other tables. There wasn’t an empty table in the hall for Loren and me to claim. I’d never been to high school, but I’d seen the movies, read the books, and heard tons of accounts of the angst that came with the school cafeteria. Sweat beaded at my neck as I tried to determine where I might fit in.
“Well,” Loren said, “come on. You can come sit at the cool kids’ table. I’ll give you an in.”
“Wherever I sit is the cool kids’ table.”
“That’s my girl.”
Loren grabbed my hand and tugged me toward a table near Arthur and his knights. Gwin and Morgan scooted over and made space for us. Food was shoved in front of me, and I lost myself in the good tastes for a moment.
Loren barely touched her meal as she chatted with every person at our table and the nearby ones. I was usually a social butterfly, but Loren looked like she belonged here. Because she did. This was her family.
“Listen, Loren, about the mission tonight?”
“Hmm? Oh, I’m ready.”
“I was thinking maybe you stay back.”
She frowned at me. “If I do, who’s going to have your back?”
I wanted to hug her. But even more, I wanted her to be here to hug when this mission was over. “You just found your family.”
“I don’t know these people. I want to. But we’re doing that whole butt-sniffing thing people do when meeting a new potential pack member. And I’m sure there’ll be hoops that I have to jump through for everyone to accept me. You and me, we’ve already sniffed each other’s butts and run the gamut. I’m still rolling with you.”
She gave me a shoulder bump and then picked up a turkey leg. But she paused before it met her mouth.
“Or,” she said, “I mean, if you’re dead set against me going on this little adventure, I could stay behind in an unguarded castle filled with priceless magical artifacts.”
She dropped the bone and rubbed her crafty fingers together like a villain. I laughed. Beside us, Morgan took in an incredulous gasp. She whipped her body around to face the table behind us where the knights sat, including Arthur.
“Wait! What? She’s going?” Morgan pointed a finger at Loren, but she glared at Arthur. “But she’s a witch.”
Arthur raised a lazy gaze to Loren. Then he sat back in his chair and really studied her. Now that she’d been declared of a magical bloodline, he might have a say in her movements.
I put a possessive arm around Loren. “She’s with me. She hasn’t accepted your dominion.”
Loren leaned into me. “Um, Nia, hang on. That sounds”—she cocked her head and studied Arthur—“interesting. What exactly does it mean to be under a knightly king’s dominion?”
“It means,” Morgan said through clenched teeth, “that you have to do what he says, even if it’s stupid, sexist, and archaic. Like delay your acceptance to university because it’s a dangerous time for magical kind.” Her voice went into a deep register, likely to mimic Arthur’s voice. But it sounded childish coming from her.
Loren took a deep breath and pinched her eyebrows. She leaned even closer to me and stage-whispered, “I’m assuming she means outside the bedroom?”
I nodded.
Arthur quirked a brow.
Morgan gagged.
Loren shrugged, her hands facing upward in a placating fashion. “Then sorry, no. That’s against my religion. I believe the only place a man should rule is in the bedroom.”
Morgan looked between the two. She turned around in her seat to fully face Arthur. “Then I reject your dominion, too. On religious grounds.”
Arthur breathed in through his nose and then out his mouth. “You can’t,” he said to Morgan. Then he inclined his head toward Loren. “She can. She’s more human than witch. She doesn’t need my protection.”
Morgan stomped her foot under the table, but it resonated. “I’m a witch, not some delicate flower.”
“I fail to understand the difference,” Arthur deadpanned, turning back to his plate.
“You can’t keep me caged in this castle, you fascist.”
“Morgan, do you even know what a fascist is?” Arthur sliced the meat from his bone in tiny bites while Morgan seethed.
“Of course I do. I have two advanced degrees. But you wouldn’t know that.”
Arthur plopped the slice of meat into his mouth and chewed. His face was a study of unconcern. I thought Morgan would blow a gasket, but instead she changed tactics.
“At least let me be of use if I have to stay caged here. Let me go with you.”
“Out of the question,” Arthur said around his bite of food.
All around us, the conversation continued. People largely ignored this fight as though it happened on a regular basis.
“How are you going to get past the humans at the tunnel?” Morgan asked.
“That’s not for you to worry about.” He took another bite of the small cut.
“I can place an enchantment over you, a shield to hide you from human view. Like the enchantment Gwin and I cast over the town. You’ll be able to slip in easily with my help. If you won’t let me go to grad school, then at least let me be useful while I’m here.”
Arthur slowly pulled the tines of the fork from his mouth. “No.”
“You know,” I said, “being shielded from view would actually make it easier and safer to slip in.” Then I shut up when Arthur glared daggers at me.
“I would stay at a safe distance,” Morgan hedged. “Just because you lost your brother doesn’t mean you can cage all of us.”
Conversation did stop then. Gwin froze like a statue beside me. The knights looked at one another and then at their leader from the corner of their eyes. Arthur’s throat worked. Then he reached for his goblet and took two gulps. Finally, the silence was broken by loud footsteps coming closer.
A dark figure entered the doorway. All eyes went to him. The man looked like a Samurai warrior misplaced in medieval England. I knew that Gawain’s father had gone on a quest in Japan a few hundred years ago. He’d come back with a treasure for the court and a treasure of his own whom he made his wife.
Gawain arched a dark brow as he regarded the room. Even as his eye lowered, his brow looked as though it remained arched. His dark hair curled around his honey-golden skin, the tendrils caressing his face. His dusky eyes looked stormy as they skated over me, and his lip quirked. Then his gaze faste
ned on Loren.
“Holy hotness on a stick,” Loren breathed.
Gawain’s grin told me that he’d heard her and the appreciation was mutual. Sir Gawain was hot, but holy he wasn’t. He winked at Loren before turning to his lord and commander.
“What news?” Arthur asked.
“The camera crews are gone from the entrance to the site,” Gawain reported. His deep voice rumbled through the hall.
Morgan scowled. Her only in on the mission was thwarted.
“But a crew of archaeologists remain,” said Gawain.
“Oh, I can help with that,” I said.
Both men turned to me.
“How?” Arthur asked.
“I have credentials.”
12
We headed to the stables under the full moon’s light. The steeds in the stalls were magnificent beasts. The horses were all Arabians, the oldest breed known to the world. The breed, which hailed from the deserts of the Middle East, were prized for their speed, endurance, and strong bones. I had no idea how these horses came to be in the employ of a group of knights from medieval times where heavy armor was the prized battle tactic. But the real Knights of the Round Table had never bothered much with heavy armor, having magical swords and shields to protect them from their foes.
Arthur, Lance, and Gawain strode into the stables. Each wore leather breeches that hugged at their powerful thighs. Their defined chests were covered with loose tunics. The knights pulled chain mail shirts over their heads. The metal was lightweight and embedded with magic. Nothing but a magical sword would get through it.
Arthur pulled out a saddle and placed it on a mare for me. I knew this mare. Rather, I knew her mother. She’d been born the last time I was here. She came up to my hand and nuzzled my palm, whispering a greeting into my mind and offering me her services.
“Whoa,” Loren said. “That was trippy. It sounded like my horse just said hello.”
“He did,” I assured her.
People weren’t the only beings that the ley lines blessed with magic. But sometimes, the translation between magical beasts and people went a little wonky.
