She could barely believe it.
To most people, Merlin, King Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table were nothing but misty legends from the fifth century. The ancient stories got most of the details wrong, but they all had a kernel of truth. For example, the real Merlin hadn’t been an elderly Druid magician.
He’d been an alien.
His people, the Fae, were a race of star-faring magic users who’d discovered the galaxy’s intelligent species tended to wipe themselves out through war or ecological disaster. Hoping to prevent more mass extinctions, the Fae chose guardians from among each species they encountered, training and empowering them to help their worlds survive.
When Merlin came to Earth in 450 AD, King Arthur, his knights and their ladies were among those he considered for the job of guardians. Those who passed Merlin’s battery of tests were permitted to drink a potion from his enchanted Grail.
The potion transformed them into Magekind, with the men becoming Magi -- vampires -- and the women, Majae, or witches.
Mission accomplished, Merlin went on to the next world, leaving Arthur and his people to fight for the survival of humanity.
Because the potion altered their genetics, the Magekind passed Merlin’s Gift down to their descendants, the Latents. Unfortunately, suddenly gaining magical abilities could drive susceptible people insane. To give the agents a chance to vet candidates, the Gift had to be triggered by a member of the Magekind. If the spell was never triggered, Latents lived and died as ordinary mortals.
Very, very few made the cut.
And now I’m one of them, Rachel thought, feeling dazed.
Just like Oriana, who’d been one of Sir Percival’s many bastards. The immortal Knights of the Round Table evidently did not practice birth control.
Gee had been a Maja for the better part of three hundred years now. A century ago, she’d gone on the Mageverse version of maternity leave, taking twenty-two years off to raise three children on Mortal Earth. You didn’t rear mortal kids among the immortals of Avalon, since it wasn’t good for their mental health.
In the decades that followed, Oriana had urged her descendants to seek lives of service even if they were never chosen for the Gift. As a result, members of the Kent family had fought in every American war of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. They’d also been police officers, firefighters, doctors and nurses, even government agents.
Still, the ultimate Kent goal was to become Magekind. Most of the clan had never been considered, despite their dedication and hard work. Rachel had no idea why the Majae’s Council had picked her.
I need to tell Mom. She’ll be over the moon.
And probably scared out of her mind, because if Rachel failed this test, she could end up insane.
Worse, she’d have the power to make every lethal impulse reality. The thought of it made her feel a little sick.
Daddy, daddy, daddy…
That’s not helping. And I’m running out of time. Dragging her mind out of the dark spiral that was becoming habit, Rachel stepped out of the shower and toweled off. She hurried to the tiny mirror over the sink, dug out her makeup kit, and went to work on her face. One eye on the clock, she blow-dried her hair, made strategic use of a curling iron, then headed for her tiny bedroom closet.
She hadn’t felt this damn nervous staring down the barrel of Don’s gun.
Nathan had told her to wear something she could work out in. Wonder what kind of workout he has in mind? And does he take requests?
Aaaand I’m running out of time.
Rachel pulled on a snug red cotton tank over a pair of black leggings, then slid her feet into black flats. Contemplating her reflection, she sighed. Well, at least I don’t look desperate to impress.
Of course, she was desperate to impress, but that was beside the point.
Firmly squelching her nerves, she walked into the living room to find Oriana fidgeting on the sectional. In contrast to her earlier joy, Gee looked wired, even a little pissed.
The court seducer was on his feet in front of the bookcase, a paperback in one big hand. Glimpsing the cover and finding it all too familiar, Rachel felt her cheeks flame. Vampire Trinity.
Great. Juuuust great. He’d discovered her collection of erotic romances. Lately, those books had been as close as she came to getting laid.
Without looking up from the book, the vampire said, “You’re three minutes late.”
Rachel bit back a flustered excuse. She’d known she was taking too much time on her makeup. “You’re right, of course. My apologies.”
“Don’t be an ass, Nathan,” Oriana said, as she rose to her feet.
At that he looked up, his gaze narrow, a muscle flexing in the corner of his jaw. Ignoring him, Gee made one of those theatrical gestures of hers. The scent of ozone filled the air like smoke.
A glowing point appeared in midair, expanding rapidly into a wavering doorway that looked like something out of a science fiction movie. Which is basically what it was: a dimensional gate to the magical city of Avalon. Rachel had seen Gee conjure gates any number of times over the years, but she’d never used one herself.
“Come on, kiddo,” Oriana said, gesturing at the opening. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
“Okay.” Rachel squared her shoulders and stepped through the gate. As she passed through, an indescribable sensation rolled over her skin, making every hair on her body rise.
The feel of Oriana’s magic.
She found herself in a long, arched room floored with Italian marble in shades of umber, gold and cream. Chandeliers dangled from the ceiling between thick wooden beams, shedding gold light and glints of rainbow reflections from long crystal pendants.
Stained glass windows lined the plaster walls. Glowing in brilliant colors from the house’s exterior spotlights, each depicted a different scene from Arthurian legend. Beautifully upholstered chairs and couches stood in conversational groupings, their oak frames intricately carved and gleaming. “Oh,” Rachel breathed, staring around the sitting room in awe. “This is gorgeous!”
“Thanks.” Oriana strolled through the gate, Nathan following her like a dark shadow. “It’s not as grand as some, but it’s not exactly a single-wide either.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Rachel moved to study a figurine of a woman in armor standing on a side table. It appeared to be solid gold. “This looks like something from an art museum.”
“Oriana is a magpie,” Nathan observed dryly. “If it’s shiny, she swoops down on it and carries it off to her nest.”
“Better than living in an armory like that pile of yours,” Oriana told him.
These two knew each other. Knew each other well. And why does that thought make me feel a little jealous? Rachel wondered. And am I jealous of his friendship with her -- or hers with him?
“Come along, dear.” Gee headed for a doorway at the other end of the room. “I was cooking all afternoon. I want to celebrate.”
“You cook?” Rachel followed her down a corridor lined with paintings. One of them looked suspiciously like a Michelangelo. “I figured you just conjured.”
“Oriana is considered one of the best cooks among the Magekind.”
Rachel dared a mischievous smile at him. “How would you know? Vampires don’t eat.”
He grinned with such charm, she blinked. “I’ve heard rumors.”
Rachel expected the dining room to look like something out of Beauty and the Beast, but it turned out to be more intimate than that, designed for eight rather than eighty. Even so, the table fairly groaned under the weight of a feast of Thanksgiving proportions. Among the dishes were several of her favorites, all steaming gently.
“It looks delicious, Gee.” But probably wasted. She doubted she’d be able to eat a bite with her stomach coiled in its current nervous knot.
Moving with the automatic courtesy of another age, Nathan moved to pull out the chair at the head of the table for Oriana. Rachel waited for him to seat her, too, kn
owing Gee’s attitudes about gentlemen and ladies. Hand-to-hand combat wasn’t the only thing the witch had taught her.
But when he stepped up behind Rachel, a ripple of pure sensual awareness rolled down her spine. There was something about all that alpha male presence that made her feel keyed up and juiced.
Rachel sat, then watched him stride to the place opposite hers, his big body moving with a fluid, athletic ease. As Oriana began pointing out the dishes, Nathan picked up the elegant bottle that sat by his elbow, plucked out the cork without the use of a bottle opener, and poured something dark red into a cut crystal glass. It didn’t look like wine. “What’s that?”
He gave her a dark smile. “You wouldn’t like it. It’s a very nice Chateau Oriana.”
When Rachel frowned in confusion, Gee explained dryly, “My blood. I bottle it magically for vampire guests.”
Okaaay. Though she supposed it made sense. Oriana had told her Majae needed to donate their blood as badly as Magi needed to drink it. Otherwise their blood pressure would shoot too high, and they could suffer strokes, even fatal aneurisms. Apparently Merlin had designed the two Magekind sexes to be interdependent.
As Nathan took another sip, Rachel’s gaze fell to his big, scarred hands. Interesting, those scars. They must date back to his life before he became a vampire; any injuries suffered afterwards would have long since healed.
His gaze flicked up, apparently noticing her interest in the pale lines. “I was a professional duelist when I was mortal, back during the Renaissance. Even with gloves, the hands take a beating.”
“That was a job?”
He shook his head. “Don’t they educate kids at all anymore?”
Stung, Rachel worked to hide her irritation. “Actually, I did well in history.”
Oriana looked up from filling her plate with thin slices of rare beef. “Nate, if you don’t quit being an ass, you’re going to find yourself with really long ears.”
“And deprive Rachel of my tongue?” He arched a sardonic eyebrow.
“He’s not usually like this,” Oriana told her, eyeing him with disfavor. “I don’t know what his problem is, but if he doesn’t solve it, he’s going to find himself looking like a cast member from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“That was a play,” he explained to Rachel, his tone elaborately helpful.
“Now that you mention it,” Rachel said through her teeth, “there is a certain resemblance between him and Nick Bottom.”
“Ah, she does read.” His lips curled up. “Something other than Vampire Trinity.”
Rachel stiffened as her temper went up in flames. Enough’s enough. “Look, I may have to fuck you, but that doesn’t give you the right to abuse me.”
There went that dark brow again. “Given your taste in reading material, I’d think you’d like that.”
She studied him in baffled fury. “Are you trying to goad me?”
“And I seem to be succeeding, not that it’s taking much effort.” He sat back in his chair, hooking a muscled arm over the back of it. “For future reference, Majae need better self-control. You don’t want to kill someone because you lost your temper.”
“I’ve been a cop for three years. I’ve dealt with more than my share of drunks, idiots, and assholes, all of whom thought I was fair game simply because I’m both a cop and a woman. My self-control is fine.”
“Three whole years. My. That many?”
Which was when Rachel remembered he was four hundred years old. She clamped her teeth shut, realizing he was right -- she had lost control. She usually maintained a tighter grip over herself.
“Keep it up, Nate, and you’ll be braying to go along with the ears,” Oriana told him, thoroughly irritated.
The vampire ignored her. “Let’s get one thing straight.” He rose to his feet and leaned across the table until his face was inches from Rachel’s. His eyes snapped blue flame. “I don’t have to fuck you. I’m not going to give you the Gift until I’m convinced you can use the power wisely. And at the moment, I’m not impressed.”
“That’s. Enough.” Oriana snapped. “You are not the only Court Seducer in Avalon. If you consider the job so distasteful, I’ll find someone else.”
“You didn’t give me this assignment, Oriana. Arthur did. And he’s the only one who can take me off it. I accepted it, and I’m going to use my best judgment whether you like it or not.”
Oriana hesitated, as if recalibrating her argument. “Nate, we need her. The Council’s conclusion was that she’ll make an excellent agent. She can be trusted.”
“That’s not the question. The question is, can she survive the Gift?” He turned to Rachel, who sat frozen, wondering exactly when the conversation had gone to hell. “Look, I don’t doubt you’re a good kid. You’ve got guts. You proved that when you stepped between Gordon’s bullet and his daughters. But it doesn’t matter how good you are if the Gift burns out your sanity. If it does, it’ll be my job to put you down like a rabid dog. Are you sure the risk is worth it?”
Rachel stared up at him. “I…” She broke off. The fact was, he had a point.
“Yeah, think about it. You need to think about it hard. Because even if the Gift doesn’t go bad on you, that’s not going to be the end of it. You’re going to end up fighting and killing. You’re going to end up watching everyone you love die. Not only your mother and father, but your sister and your nieces and your nephews.”
“I… don’t have any nieces and nephews.”
“You will. And if you have kids, you’ll watch them die, too, if they’re not chosen to get the Gift. I lost four of mine to old age, three others to smallpox, two to cholera and one to murder. Why do you think Oriana’s so determined to secure immortality for one of her children’s descendants? Because all her kids died and you’re all that’s left of them. That’s a wound that never heals.”
“Yes, I’ll admit that’s a factor.” Oriana leaned toward her, voice low and intense. “But it’s also true that you’re needed. Morgana Le Fay and Gwen both have had visions, and they agree there’s something nasty on the way. Something every bit as bad as Warlock or the Dark Ones, or any of the other bastards we fought in the last decade.” There was something so coldly desperate in Gee’s normally warm gaze, Rachel felt a chill. “That’s why we’re recruiting. Magekind agents are going to die, and the world trembles on the edge of chaos. You can make a difference in this fight.”
“Maybe,” Nathan said softly. “Or maybe you’ll end up cannon fodder. Maybe you’ll end up insane, and I’ll have to put you down. Make damn sure you want to risk both possibilities before you say yes.”
Rachel’s first impulse was to drop her eyes from his hard gaze, but she knew that would be a mistake. If she showed him any vulnerability at all, he’d keep pounding it. So instead she let her attention dip to his mouth.
Damn, his lips are downright erotic. Abruptly she realized she was almost painfully aware of him: his height, his broad shoulders, those big, scarred hands. What would it be like to make love to him?
No, not make love. He was a Court Seducer. Screwing women into the Gift was what he did. This will never lead anywhere or mean anything to him. It’s only a fuck. Rachel raised her chin. “If I wanted to live forever, I wouldn’t have stepped in front of a bullet two days ago.” She turned to Oriana. “I’ve never wanted to be anything but Magekind. Not for the power, not for the immortality -- to make a difference. Lately it feels like this entire damn planet is balanced on a knife blade over hell. If I can help stave off the fall, that’s a chance worth taking.”
Nathan sat back in his chair with a grunt of disgust. “Jesu, you did a good job brainwashing this kid.”
Oriana snorted. “You know, the asshole act would be more convincing if you hadn’t spent the past four centuries trying to save the world.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, it needed saving.”
Chapter Two
Somehow they got through the rest of the meal without things getting any m
ore heated. Rachel felt all too aware of Nathan’s brooding gaze as he worked his way through the bottle of Oriana’s blood. There was something about that dark stare that made her skin feel too tight.
Especially her nipples. She sneaked a downward glance to check whether they were as hard as they felt… Oh. Yeah. Crap. But he was so damned male. Those Arctic eyes made her acutely aware of her mouth, her breasts, her… everything.
Well, at least it’s been an hour since I’ve even thought about that damned shooting. She sipped from her glass of wine. Maybe I’ll even be able to sleep. Though she’d have to do it in the morning…
“Are you done?” Nathan asked at last. “It’s getting late.”
Rachel looked down at her empty plate, where one hand fiddled restlessly with her fork. She put the utensil down. “Yes.”
“Good. We’ve got only a few hours until sunrise, and I’d like to get started.”
On what? Rachel suspected her eyes were little bit too wide.
Nathan turned to Oriana. “Did you get those circlets finished?”
Gee nodded and rose. “Of course. I’ll go get them.” She hurried out.
“What circlets?” Rachel asked cautiously, not sure she liked the sound of that.
“They’re magical devices we use in training. I had her program them with a couple of new scenarios.”
“What, like a video game?”
“Video games are primitive compared to these. They simulate situations we’ve encountered in the field. I asked Oriana to create an illusion that you have magical abilities. Watching what you do with those powers will give me a chance to evaluate your judgment.”
Rachel nodded. “Oh yeah, I did something similar at the Academy during training.” Called ‘shoot-don’t shoot’ scenarios, the equipment projected video of training situations on a long screen. She’d had to determine whether to shoot a laser pistol at images depicting either bad guys or innocent bystanders. If you chose wrong, you got shot -- or “killed” some poor sucker who’d only pulled out a cell phone.
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