by Regan Black
The woman moved him, shifted something deep within him. He couldn’t keep kissing her, tempting as it was, without offering her some assurance of his good intentions. He couldn’t give those assurances without knowing if he would stay in this time when his task was done.
Everything hinged on two critical details. First, that they would triumph over Morgana’s plot and second, that Tara wanted him as much as he wanted her.
He was grateful when Nick showed them into a room with a peaked roof and plenty of light from the windows and the skylight. The view, the nearness to his element had him feeling better. “Again, my thanks,” he said, turning in a slow circle.
“This could be a painter’s studio,” Tara said, her wide eyes full of delight. “I envisioned the hideout at the end of that passage to be dark.”
Nick winked at Wayne. So his squire had shared all of his secrets. Best not to keep more from Tara if he hoped for the same candor in return. “My vision and power are fueled by good light and open sky. Morgana’s power is rooted to the earth,” he explained. “Putting this in the basement would have been a detriment and made me less effective.”
“Let’s get started,” Nick said before Tara could react. He gingerly drew the contents from the envelope. Several old papers were carefully unfolded and separated from their protective layers. “If the solstice is her target time, we have to work fast.”
He and Tara listened as Nick explained the various maps and documents. Perusing the maps of leylines and comparing those mystical energy currents to the pockets of dense city growth fascinated him. The page of instructions handed down from his original squire reiterated that his confidence in Peter had not been misplaced after all, despite his broken vow.
Standing beside her, Wayne knew of Tara’s every breath. He appreciated her astute questions and her fiery grit. The woman enthralled him, and uncertain how much time he might have with her, he intended to treasure every minute.
He watched her while she was engrossed with her cousin’s recitations. He’d met her only yesterday and already he was a changed man. Affected in ways he could not describe adequately. Not the least of which was this flutter of hope under his breastbone. Arthur had been wise to prepare him for the worst. For failure. Except this unimaginable world, this captivating woman felt like an undeserved reward.
No, he would not have been pleased at all if the squire had taken lethal action against the woman bearing his first son. Such an unjust tragedy would surely have loosed some other terror into the world.
“It’s all in the balances,” he murmured.
“What’s that? Where?” Tara frowned at the maps, searching for some symbol on the page to fit his interruption.
“Something I learned in Avalon.”
Her eyes glinted with the bright curiosity that charmed him. “Someday I want to hear all about that.”
He hoped the day would come when he could share that with her. “I studied there so I would be better prepared for any eventuality,” he said to Nick.
“I know.” Nick cracked his knuckles, his gaze on the maps. “Peter studied there too,” he said.
The revelation startled Wayne and, judging by her sharp gasp, it surprised Tara as well. “Did he tell you how he found the island?”
“That part of the story wasn’t shared with me,” Nick admitted. “Or with anyone from what I can tell. I’ve searched before.”
Wayne recalled his only visit with perfect clarity. “Chances are Peter never knew how he stumbled upon Avalon, only that access was granted to him when he needed it.” He wondered if the island still existed in any form. Tara said it was only legend now. Perhaps it had mystically drifted away amid changing beliefs and overflowing humanity. Should he fail here, would the Lady of the Lake have another option? He didn’t want to take that chance. Though two other knights had answered Arthur’s summons, he had no way of knowing how they fared.
Nick, sensing his discomfort, directed their attention back to the map showing the leylines crisscrossing the world. “Based on what the two of you described last night and the limited time, I think we should focus our search in Manhattan.”
“The witch attacked us here in Brooklyn,” Tara reminded him. “She was less than a block from the pub. We can’t afford to miss her.”
“There is a strong line running near the pub,” Wayne said, his finger tracing the faded mark over the outlines of water and land.
“Yes,” Nick agreed. “Stronger currents converge in a nexus on Manhattan.” He indicated the point with his finger. “See this line?” His finger hovered over the spot. “It tracks right back to Arthur’s kingdom.”
“Not just his kingdom, the valley where I confronted Morgana.” Wayne deliberated over the more modern maps, noting details of changed borders and new names for places he’d known. “It cannot be coincidence.”
He shifted the maps around to show Nick and Tara the cave where he’d bound Morgana. “Peter and I camped near here that last night.” He swallowed the surprising rush of emotion. “Sterling and I attacked at dawn, using the time when I am strongest. We fought all day before getting close enough to cast the binding spell.”
“Then what?” Nick asked.
“I do not know.” That was the last thing he remembered about that day. About his old life. “Either we made it out, or Peter came in and dragged us out.”
“When I went for the maps, I searched through the journals we have. There’s no documentation of those immediate hours afterward.”
“How can that be?” Tara flared her hands wide. “Those details could be important. You said you’ve been trained for generations for this scenario. We’ve both heard the family ‘legends’ since birth. Why are these key points missing?”
“For your protection,” Wayne answered. He straightened up and stepped back from the table, his head rapping lightly into an angled beam overhead. The bump made him more aware of how little he fit into this new world.
“The dagger I used in the spell was blood-bound to Peter.” Wayne had learned those sorts of precautions with magic at his sister’s knee. A strong foundation the priestesses in Avalon had built upon. “Speaking or documenting all of the details would have created more risk and increased the odds that any descendants or students of the cult would learn the truth.”
“Then all of the O’Malleys are in danger. That’s why you didn’t want any family at the pub.”
“No.” Wayne couldn’t look at Tara. “That was so the witch couldn’t use them against you.” He braced for her temper, but it was too late to hold back anything now. If the worst happened to him in the coming fight, she and her cousin would need the information to train the next generation how to stand against the looming evil. “If the young witch is dug in, if the cult is as strong in this century as it was in the past, only you are in grave danger, Tara. The dagger is blood-bound solely to the proper owner.”
Nick whistled. “You were a careful bastard weren’t you?”
“I tried to be,” Wayne said. “Yet the cult survives.”
“You’re sure the woman - the witch - you saw on the street last night is the leader?” Tara asked.
“As sure as I can be at this point,” he said. “The tattoos we saw, her skills with magic, and the way she disabled me on the street. Even your dream. If she is not the strongest, I fear the battle is already lost.”
Tara blew out a breath, the shadows under her eyes standing out against her fair skin. “A cult that believes in Morgan Le Fey hiding in plain sight in Manhattan,” Tara said. “Un-freakin-believable.”
“Not exactly plain sight,” Nick grumbled. “You know the city history as well as I do,” he said to Tara. “She could be right on the nexus, or have found a tunnel route to it.”
“She would be as close as possible,” Wayne said. “The power there would be intoxicating.” He glanced down at his hound, knowing the bond there was deeper than function or a lifetime of shared experience and training. The magic pulled them as effectively as mag
netic forces, keeping them linked, fueling their need to stay linked. “A power source is a double-edged sword. It feeds, and nourishes even as it becomes a vulnerable spot.”
“All right. We can work with that,” Nick said. “My guess is you came through a portal on this leyline.” He tapped the modern map once more. “Factoring the quick response to your appearance, and investigation of the theft, I’m guessing she is holed up at the very center of the nexus and using it to her advantage.” He unfolded a colorful piece of paper and spread it flat on the table. “This is a tourist guide for Manhattan proper. Between the dead bodies and the archives, I went by the corner where you spotted her last night. The trail was subtle, but I followed it straight to Times Square before I lost it completely.”
Tara gawked at her cousin. “You can track magic?”
“A little,” Nick replied with a smirk. “What? You have your family responsibilities, I have mine.”
Wayne was more impressed than ever with all Peter had done in preparation. “To release Morgana, she will go underground, straight to the nexus. She will need every power boost available to break the spell.”
“Can she do it without my blood?”
“I am sure she’ll try. There are many powers greater than mine,” Wayne said. “Though my intentions were specific, it’s not impossible for her to circumvent them.”
Tara shook out her hair and pinned it back up again. Leaning forward, she pursed her lips as she studied the tourist map. “There are subways near the nexus. We can start our search there.”
“I can,” Nick and Wayne said in unison.
“You must stay out of sight,” Wayne added. “Behind the protective wards your cousin created here. If she knew your blood was essential, she wouldn’t have been focused on me. Should she learn the truth, that your blood will break the spell, we’ve lost the war before the battle begins.”
Tara’s foot tapped a staccato beat against the wood floor. “I’m not sitting in some proverbial ivory tower waiting for news of your triumph,” she said. “I’ll go with you or I’ll go in spite of you.”
“Easy there, killer,” Nick crooned. “I have a few ideas.” He gently moved the ancient documents aside and unrolled a new stack of oversized papers. “These are the building blueprints for a three block radius around the nexus.”
“Holy cow, Nick.” Her auburn eyebrows winged up in surprise. “That takes thorough to a new level.”
“Our best chance to catch her is to drop a net over the nexus quickly,” Nick said.
Wayne nodded. “We can divide the search area into three segments -”
“Thank you for not leaving me out.”
Wayne stopped and stared at her. How could she believe he’d take a chance with her life? “Three,” he repeated. “Nick, Sterling, and me.”
“Then four of us covers more territory faster.” She crossed her arms over her chest and he had to drag his eyes back to her face.
“You’ll stay here.” Couldn’t she see the sense in that? “If the witch captures you, we’re done for.”
She sniffed. “I will not be left out. Talk some sense into him, Nick. I can hold my own.”
“Again, I say, easy.” Nick’s sharp tone put an end to her bickering. “My plan wasn’t just a search, but a trap for the cult.”
“I like that.” Tara’s eyes glittered with anticipation. “When do we start?”
“You will not use her to bait your trap,” Wayne warned. He locked gazes with Nick across the table.
“Not a chance,” Nick agreed. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought since you showed up and I think I know where to start. If I’m wrong, we can regroup and redirect quickly enough.” He rubbed at the lines etched into his forehead. “Aunt Siobhan has agreed to help me out.”
“My mom did what?”
“She and I will visit various hotels posing as mother and son looking for a rehearsal dinner venue and an accommodations package for a wedding.”
“You really think the witch and her cult are hiding in a hotel?” Wayne asked. Though he had little understanding of this era, such a public place seemed far too easy to be detected.
Nick nodded. “It gives her the perfect cover. Employment and facilities for her followers, access to every resource, and a steady cash flow. There are several properties near the nexus that have been privately owned since the city was founded.”
“If you are so sure, why don’t we just march in there, take her out, and call it done?”
Silently, Wayne seconded Tara’s question.
“Because if we guess incorrectly, she has the advantage again,” Nick answered. “Much as Wayne did in the past, I want to eradicate her now instead of later.”
“We know my arrival was noticed. You were with me at that time. The witch or her followers may recognize you.”
“I’m not exactly helpless,” Nick said. “But thanks for the concern.”
Seeing the battle gleam in Nick’s eyes, Wayne believed him. Trusted him. The young man had certainly proved his resourcefulness time and again since Wayne had arrived. “What shall we do while you are out there?” he asked.
“I want the two of you to learn the name of the witch leading this cult, and find out if she’s your long-lost cousin or something.”
The request startled Wayne almost as much as Nick’s full knowledge of the rotted branch of his family tree. He’d been asleep, presumed dead by all concerned, for centuries. He had no idea how the cult had survived. “How am I to do that?”
“You knew the cult at its beginning. Don’t try and claim you didn’t know the primary players, the alliances, and who brought the coin. You trained on Avalon. I’m sure you have special gifts beyond the resources we have protected for just this contingency.”
Wayne closed his eyes against the hard challenge on Nick’s face. Sterling’s vision gave him a good view of the room and the shared glance between the O’Malley cousins. Was he really going to use his magic against another relative? It seemed no matter how far he traveled, his mother found a way to be right.
“You know her name is essential to finishing this. When your gifts and the printed records here run dry, Tara’s computer skills will be more than enough, I’m sure.”
Wayne looked to Tara. Her gaze slid to the full bookshelves lining the walls under the eaves. There was nothing to do but get started.
~*~
Tara gave Nick a goodbye hug, more than a little worried he was diving into stormy seas without a lifeline. “Please be careful,” she whispered at his ear. “And bring my mom back safely.” What that woman had done to Wayne from across a crowded street still sent chills down her spine. “She’s dangerous.”
“I know.” Nick gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You be careful here too, okay?”
The gravity in his voice startled her. At every turn, she realized her cousin’s branch of the family had carried the greater burden. Yes, she was the latest O’Malley charged with protecting an invaluable relic, but Nick’s side had protected so much more.
Insecurity and doubt tapped a merry dance through her head as Nick’s footsteps faded to silence in the secret stairway.
Behind her Wayne cleared his throat. “I do not know where to start,” he said in a voice rough with uncertainty.
She turned and tenderness swamped her. Shoulders slumped, one hand splayed over Sterling’s head, Wayne looked absolutely lost. Fragile, despite his build and obvious strength. The man had mysteriously traveled though time to complete a 1500-year old mission. Other than his strange accent, which was fading, and his outdated ideas about society, he’d stepped into her time without much of a hitch. He’d deconstructed a crime scene and shown a tremendous capacity for adaptation during his every encounter in her world.
Now, ordered to think back to his own time, he was stumped.
“Start wherever you like,” she suggested. “I’m going downstairs for my tablet.”
“Not alone.”
Her eyes wanted to roll and she bit b
ack a sharp retort about her independence. “The house is safe.” She gave him a smile. “Sterling can be my escort. You look for something that feels familiar. I - we - will be back momentarily.”
At his nod, the greyhound moved to her side. It felt wrong to leave Wayne with that world-weary expression and worry tugging at his eyebrows, so she and the dog hustled back into the main part of the house. She considered making a pot of tea and decided against it. No reason to leave her poor knight alone any longer than necessary.
Her knight? A couple of sizzling kisses didn’t exactly give her exclusive rights to him, but thinking about her world without him now that they’d met made her shiver. Gawain the Gallant had been her ultimate fantasy date when she was an awkward teenager. Not just because of her fascination with medieval legends and vivid dreams. The stories of his quests, his feats of valor and his acts of kindness created an ideal the boys around her couldn’t possibly live up to.
The only person happy with her lack of a social life had been her overprotective father. Imagining her dad’s reaction if she brought Wayne home for Sunday dinner made her laugh out loud.
Then she sobered. Even if he agreed to such a ludicrous suggestion, she had no idea what would happen to him - or to her - when they were done with this. Better not think about that. They had enough trouble bearing down on them with this whole witch on a power trip thing. With Sterling on her heels, she quickly gathered her tablet, three bottles of water, a bag of pretzels, and a bowl for the dog. The sooner this was over, the sooner her other questions would be answered.
When she returned, Wayne was sitting at the table, hunched over an open book, a short stack of other books near his elbow. He didn’t spare her a glance, though he muttered a thank you for the water she offered him.
That’s when it hit her. He hadn’t thrown himself into the research the moment she’d left, he’d been watching her through that magic bond he had with the dog. “You’re a phony,” she accused lightly.
