Resurrection: A Historical Adventure Romance Novel (Legend Book 3)

by Kylie Stewart

  I nodded. “Still, why did you go?”

  “He said he had an offer for me.”

  My body tensed. “What was that offer?”

  “My freedom from you to live a normal life.” She shook her head. “I refused. I can’t live without you.”

  He offered her an out?

  I pulled her back to my chest. “I love you, Alexandria. Never doubt that, and know I will fight for us.”

  “I know you will, and I will fight for you.” She looked back up at me. “There is no other option.”

  I arched a brow. “Just promise me that you will never rush off without telling me the truth again.”

  Alexandria gave a small laugh. “I promise.”

  I wrapped my arm around her waist. “Let’s go speak to M and Vivian.”

  As I led her up the stairs, my brain sifted through all the worst-case scenarios of what Mordred could have done to Alexandria.

  He let her go.

  It just didn’t make sense.

  Why prolong this game when he had the perfect opportunity to take her today?

  I hated not understanding my opponent’s motives.

  And Mordred was thoroughly frustrating me.

  SIXTEEN

  Alexandria

  The steam billowing from my mug of tea held my attention as my grandmother sat next to me on her Victorian sofa. I glanced over at her kindly blue eyes and forced a smile. It had only been a day since learning of Mordred’s intentions toward me and Avalon.

  I asked Avalon if I could go visit my grandmother and he agreed, albeit hesitantly, as long as John rode along with me in case something went wrong.

  Now, I sat in the homey living area scanning the numerous pictures of myself, my parents, and my grandparents. Our family had begun small, and now Margaret York and I were all who remained.

  “You seem to have something on your mind, love.” Her frail hand covered my own. “I know you didn’t just stop in for tea.”

  My grandmother’s ability to see through me never ceased to amaze me. She always had, though, so I shouldn’t be surprised now.

  “I need to speak to you about something.” I blew the steam away from the surface of my tea and took a fortifying sip. “You may think I’m crazy, but I swear all of what I am about to say is true.”

  Her thin lips pursed, the already wrinkled crow’s feet around her eyes deepening. “Go on.”

  How did I tell my own grandmother I was living a fairy tale?

  “The Duke of Avalon isn’t who he appears to be …” I began, watching her reaction carefully. “He’s human, but he has lived for a very long time.”

  By this time, Margaret leaned back against the cushions, rubbing her fingers over her brow.

  “Grandma? Are you all right?” I waited for her to answer, afraid that by telling her too much, she’d suffer a heart attack or a stroke.

  When she looked at me again, a frank understanding reflected in glassy eyes. “Did he tell you, or did you figure it out?”

  My heart jumped into my throat, and I had to set my tea down on the coffee table. “Are you saying that you already know about Avalon and who he is?”

  Instead of answering me, she stood slowly and walked in the direction of my grandfather’s study just off to the left of where we sat. I followed her, both curious and a bit betrayed.

  If my grandmother knew who Avalon was, then why didn’t she stop me from going to work for him?

  Did she not know who I was?

  “Grandma?” I pressed again. She flicked on the light to the dark study, and I had to blink my eyes to adjust.

  My grandfather’s study was immaculate. Not a speck of dust on the large mahogany desk or paperwork left askew. Two cardboard boxes sat in the far corner as they always had, and I just assumed they contained papers from the past.

  Grandmother now walked over to them and motioned me over. “I will need you to move these into the living room.”

  She still hadn’t answered me, but I did as she asked.

  They were heavier than I expected them to be.

  Once both boxes sat on the floor in front of the sofa, we sat back down together. Margaret York took my hands in hers and finally answered me. “My girl, I have known who the Duke of Avalon is for years. As did your grandfather, as did your mother and father.”

  I inhaled a breath. “Mum and Dad knew?”

  She nodded gravely. “Yes. He came to us a few years after your birth. He admitted he normally wouldn’t interfere with someone in your shoes, but your father held a very advantageous position.”

  My eyes refused to cooperate, and they swelled with tears. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “We were told not to.” Margaret shook her head with a huff. “Avalon told us it would be safer for you not to know about him or about who you were.”

  “So you all knew who I was?” The thought my entire family knew and never spoke a word caused my heart to sink. “Why?”

  “For your safety, dear.” She rubbed my back. “All Avalon ever wanted for you was a normal upbringing and to stay away from trouble.”

  I took a few deep breaths to try to look at this entire situation from my parents’ point of view. All they wanted to do was protect me. So did Avalon.

  The boxes drew my attention again. “Do these boxes have to do with Daddy’s position?”

  She squeezed my hands. “Your father didn’t work for the government; he worked for G.R.A.I.L. Corp.”

  Everything stopped. My world tipped completely off its axis and threw me into the black void of space.

  Daddy worked for the enemy.

  Avalon must have known and came to warn them about Mordred.

  “Alexandria.” My grandmother touched my shoulder. “These boxes contain all the information from your father’s last project.”

  “Daddy worked for Mordred?” I stared into nothingness.

  “Yes, love, he did.” Margret nodded at John, who had come in from the kitchen upon my revelation. “Your father made me swear I wouldn’t show these to you until you came to me. You were never supposed to know.”

  “Is that why they died?” It felt as though the wounds from losing my parents had been ripped back open. The agony and anguish overwhelmed me all over again.

  My grandmother’s voice wavered as she replied. “Yes.”

  The tears streamed down my face. I didn’t have the strength to hold them back anymore. My parents were dead because of me.

  My parents died trying to protect me, and these boxes would tell me how.

  “Can I open them?” I asked, clearing my throat. My hands shook as I lifted the lid of the first box.

  Grandma nodded.

  Smaller boxes, paper files, portfolios, and notebooks were the contents of the first box. A manila folder labeled ‘Project DIANA’ sat on the top.

  “No …” My whisper couldn’t be heard by my grandmother, but I looked up and met John’s gaze. He didn’t say a word, just waited patiently.

  I reached in and pulled that folder out, flipping to the first page.

  Scientific jargon I didn’t understand covered the page in black and white. I skimmed farther down and paused on a set of two names.

  My father, Dr. William York, and another name, a name I just learned.

  Dr. Ivan Tristan.

  A picture paper clipped to the next page caught my attention. It was of my father and Dr. Tristan, smiling at a bar while sharing a pint.

  What?

  I closed the folder and threw it back into the box as though it was a venomous snake. “May we take these to Caliburn, Grandma?”

  “Of course. Your father kept them for you.” She seemed to age five years with the knowledge I knew my fate.

  “Thank you.” I kissed her cheek before giving her a strong hug. “For everything.”

  Silence dominated the ride back to Caliburn. John settled the precious cargo safely into the back seat of my Volkswagen then volunteered to drive back for me, sensing I would need a few moments
to sort through my thoughts.

  And I did.

  My father worked as a scientist for G.R.A.I.L. Corp.

  My father worked with Dr. Ivan Tristan and for Mordred.

  My parents knew Avalon and knew my fate and hid it from me.

  Worst of all, they were killed because of something in the boxes that sat quietly in the back seat.

  Why had Avalon never mentioned it before?

  We vowed no more lies.

  My stomach continued to do flips and clench at the prospect of what I would find within those boxes.

  John turned into the long driveway through the open iron gates, and large trees blocked the sun.

  I wrung my hands, trying to remain calm. All the while I felt as though I would jump out of my skin.

  The large fountain came into view as sunlight welcomed us home. After John parked and got out to remove the boxes, I took a moment to go over what I would say to Avalon. I didn’t want to yell; I wasn’t even that angry.

  More than anything else, confusion irked my mind, relentless in its quest for answers.

  M met us at the door and helped John with the second box. The look exchanged between the two men didn’t help my already fragile nerves.

  Avalon and Vivian were seated across from each other in the White Room. Upon our arrival, Avalon stood, glancing curiously at the boxes John and M carried in. He crossed the room to meet me, taking my hands and placing a kiss on my cheek.

  “How was your grandmother?” he asked, gray eyes sparkling.

  I didn’t mean to be so blunt.

  My brain knew what to say, but my mouth refused to work with me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew my family?” I blurted.

  A quizzical expression crossed over his handsome features, brows furrowing together as realization dawned. The corners of his mouth tugged downward, and he closed his eyes briefly.

  Clearing his throat, he asked, “Your grandmother told you about me coming to visit when you were a baby?”

  All I could do was bob my head.

  “And about how I met your father?”

  I forced myself to speak. “Yes.”

  The air between us hung thick and heavy like a fog rolling in after the rain. Anxiety crashed through my veins, threatening every fiber of my belief system to know my father worked for Mordred.

  “When I learned that your father worked for Mordred, I had no choice but to warn him of your destiny.” Avalon tightened his grip on my hands. “Your father was the only person who could save you in his position.”

  “Did it get him killed?”

  My question fell on silence.

  A silence that answered all my questions.

  “Let us look inside these boxes and begin to piece together what your father worked on.” Avalon led me over to the table where both boxes sat. “If you want to get to the truth, we must learn what he knew.”

  I couldn’t disagree.

  Knowing what my father had been working on would point us in the direction of our destruction. Like it or not, we had to put our missing pieces into the puzzle.

  “We should start with this box.” I placed my hands on the top of the one I had opened in my grandmother’s living room. Lifting the lid, I saw the project file folder once again.

  After an hour and piece by piece, we had all the contents spread out on the table in groups. Notebooks in one pile and typed notes in another. Loose papers were stacked in order by date, and the smaller boxes containing chips, micro samples, and slides were opened.

  I took a step back and opened the main file folder.

  “That’s Tristan and William,” Avalon mused as he studied a photograph. “The file folder has what written on it?”

  I flipped to the cover once again. “Project DIANA.” I wrinkled my nose. “Then there is all this nonsense about DNA, cell reconstruction, and data flow.”

  “Didn’t you say that there was an A.I. working for Mordred?” Vivian scanned over a document near her. “This paper says Ren.”

  Light bulbs flashed before my eyes. “Yes! That’s it! Ren is the A.I. I was introduced to the first time I went to G.R.A.I.L.”

  M took the paper from Vivian and narrowed his gaze lower on the page. “G.R.A.I.L. apparently stands for something.”

  “What is that?” John asked, setting down the notebook he had been engaged in.

  M lowered his glasses and peered over the rim. “Global Reticent Artificial Intelligence Legion.”

  Avalon arched a brow. “Everything makes sense except the word reticent.”

  “Why?” I leaned onto the table, reaching out to M for the paper.

  “Reticent means not revealing one’s thoughts or feelings readily,” John offered. “So basically, Mordred’s company is a giant army that doesn’t want anyone to know what they do.”

  Avalon looked over my shoulder at the parchment and sucked his teeth. “I do not like that he used legion in this company’s title.” He and Vivian exchanged a glance.

  She nodded her agreement. “It seems he used legion to take a symbolic stand against an army.”

  I picked up another notebook, this one leather bound and the parchment weathered from age. “What army?”

  “Mine …” Avalon replied, a hint of resentment in his voice. “My knights.”

  I continued to flip carefully through the old journal. A portrait of a woman on a page of its own with no signature or name caused me to pause. She looked vaguely familiar.

  “Oh, my gosh!” I pulled the journal closer. “This is her. The A.I. I met, Ren.”

  Avalon moved swiftly to take the journal from my hands. He stared long and hard at the portrait of the woman before looking up at Vivian and M.

  “What?” I asked, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach.

  Avalon took a deep breath and held up a heart-shaped pendant. “I found this in a leather case.” The pendant at one point had been sterling silver but now gleamed with a dull tinge of yellow. “It belonged to a lady we once knew.” Avalon turned to a now white-faced John. “Diana.”

  John backed away from the evidence on the table. “No. This can’t be real. She died. I watched her die!”

  Vivian gently laid a hand on his shoulder. “You watched her die, but then she was taken from your sight.”

  “No … no, there is no way Mordred has had her all this time.” Hands tore through his usually coifed hair.

  “Had who?” I became totally lost when they spoke of this Diana woman. “Who is she?” I flipped the file folder closed and read the project name once again.

  “She lived in our time,” Avalon said tersely.

  “So the A.I. I met is a part of this curse too?” I thought back to the obedience and complete trust in which Ren served Mordred.

  “No, God no.” John wailed like a wounded animal, falling to his knees.

  Avalon wrapped an arm around my waist but stayed silent.

  “Who was Diana?” I asked barely above a whisper.

  John looked up at me, arms wrapped around his torso. Tears glistened in his amber eyes. “My wife.”

  SEVENTEEN

  John

  When one binds themselves to a soul reborn of the same cloth, the memories and tendencies remain. The two become one, melding together in a tapestry of understanding. A mutual knowing one cannot live without the other. John’s memories became mine, and Galahad’s became his.

  I never expected for this to happen.

  The woman of my past weaving together to the woman of John’s as well.

  My Diana was John’s Diana.

  According to his memories, she had left five years ago and never returned to their hometown. She never answered any of his phone calls, none of his texts or emails. Could this be because Mordred needed a new body? A new host to work off my Diana’s original soul?

  Bile rose in my throat at the notion Diana’s soul had been held captive by Mordred for all these years. All the years I rejoiced and basked in my Lord—she hadn’t crossed to ete
rnity. The purgatory of hell she must have endured. It made me want to scream.

  As a man of God, a man who had seen the face of God, I had forgotten how powerful human rage could be. How strong and how viscerally it manifested in one’s soul, coating even the purist hearts with hate.

  A snarl escaped my lips. “I swear if he has taken her, I will kill him.”

  Vivian’s cool hand touched my arm. I looked up at the blond woman who smiled warmly. “We will find her.”

  “You were married?” Alexandria’s voice caught with disbelief.

  “I had been until she was taken from me.” Avalon offered his hand to me, and I took it, coming back to stand. The shock still pressed upon my shoulders as the world Atlas held. “I never found her body and mourned her passing. We were married in secret with her father’s blessing.”

  “Galahad went on his quest for the Holy Grail soon after that, and only Lancelot returned to me.” Avalon continued speaking as I had lost my voice. “The other two men they traveled with were of good standing; Sir Bors and Sir Percival rode around the country spreading the news of Galahad’s ascension.”

  Alexandria took a tentative step toward me. “So your wife must have been taken by Mordred somehow. He’s used her in this experiment, and my father …” The mixture of disgust and horror in her eyes matched my own. “My father was a part of that; I’m so sorry.”

  Merlin spoke up from across the table, his glasses off in contemplation. “Allow me to just take a moment to speak out loud.” Everyone’s attention turned to the magician, including my own. “We know that myself, Vivian, Mordred, Morgan, and Arthur are not reincarnations. Alexandria and Lancer were cursed to be reborn over and over again, and Vivian called you back.” I nodded.

  Merlin was onto something. “Galahad, you were born to Sir Lancelot du Lac and the Lady Elaine of Corbenic.”

  A gasp echoed in the room, and Alexandria’s hand slapped over her mouth. “Elaine… my best friend …” Avalon’s eyes closed as the connections finally made sense.

  “Sadly, I believe that Elaine is also another player in this game.” Merlin gave Alexandria a sympathetic glance. “That leaves Dr. Ivan Tristan who is a knight, and Diana who is the A.I. under Mordred’s control.”