Master of Swords

by Angela Knight

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you…”

  The Maja made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about it, dear. Letting someone muck around in your head isn’t a pleasant prospect.”

  Caroline smirked. “Yeah, she might discover all your secret fantasies about naked cops in shiny motorcycle boots.”

  Lark blinked. “I don’t have any fantasies about naked cops in shiny motorcycle boots.”

  “Oh. That must be me, then.” She threw her head back in mock ecstacy. “Bust me, officer! Ticket me again!”

  Lark shook her head at her friend’s antics. “Why would you fantasize about cops when you’re married to Galahad, stud of the Round Table?”

  Caroline grinned salaciously. “You should see him in motorcycle boots.”

  “Pervert.” Diera sniffed.

  “Goody Two-Shoes.”

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed at their friend. “Come to think of it, didn’t I see you strolling in the park last night with a vampire boy toy of your very own?”

  “That was Antonio, and he’s my apprentice, not a boy toy.” But her attempt at an aloof tone was spoiled by a small, secret smile.

  “Apprentice. Yeah, right.” Caroline cut her eyes at Lark and intoned. “‘The Force is strong in this one. You should see his light saber.’” She held her index fingers apart in the universal symbol for Big Dick.

  Lark snickered, then stopped as her eyes went wide. “Are you talking about the same Antonio that’s been training with us?” Antonio Calendri had joined in on their practice sessions several times, engaging Lark in swordplay while Diera critiqued her magical attacks. Muscular and handsome, he’d been a Magus for just over a year.

  Diera nodded. “That’s him.”

  Caroline’s eyes widened in delight. “The one with the crush on you?”

  A flush stained Diera’s delicate cheekbones. “Antonio does not have a crush on me.”

  “Yeah, right.” Lark turned to Caroline. “That poor man is so far gone, and she just pretends not to notice.”

  “But getting back to Lark’s problem…” Diera said, just a little desperately.

  Lark grinned and propped her chin on her fist as she studied the Maja wickedly. “I’d rather talk about Antonio. So, is it a two-handed light saber, or just a hand and a half?”

  “This is serious, Lark,” Diera snapped. “It’s not just your life at stake now. It’s Gawain’s.”

  The humor drained from her. “Dirty pool, Diera.”

  Her mentor didn’t flinch. “I’m sorry, darling, but this is vital, particularly after what happened the other day. You have a lot more power than you think you do. You must stop hamstringing yourself and use it.”

  “Believe me, when Fangface latched onto my jugular, I used all the power I had.”

  Diera leaned forward and met her gaze earnestly. “At that point, yes, but by then, he’d taken too much of your blood. You need to start drawing the full load before you’re down and bleeding out.”

  Frustrated, Lark glowered. “What makes you think I’m not doing that now?”

  “Because I’ve watched you fight Antonio. You’re holding back. You don’t trust what you are. Deep down, you don’t really believe you’ve got these abilities, so you’re not drawing on the Mageverse the way you could.” To Caroline she added, “You see this kind of thing all the time with new Majae.”

  “I gave Fangface everything I had! He was just too damn strong.”

  Her mentor sighed. “Lark, the death magic the sorcerers use is powerful, but it’s also finite. Once the psychic energy from their last murder is gone, it’s gone. But the power of the Mageverse has no limit. You just have to learn how to draw on it.”

  Sometimes she really hated this mumbo-jumbo crap. “Is that your way of saying, ‘Use the Force, Luke’?”

  “Something like that. The next time you confront one of the sorcerers, just remember the power is there. You simply have to let yourself use it.”

  “But what if I can’t?”

  “The time will come when you’ve got to. And the way things are going lately, it will be sooner rather than later.”

  Lark snorted in disgust at her friend’s warning. “Thanks a lot, Diera.”

  The Maja smiled dryly. “What else are friends for?” She hesitated. “And as long as I’m giving out sage wisdom…”

  “Oh, God, now what?”

  “Your assignment with Gawain concerns me.”

  “Not you, too!”

  Caroline propped her chin on her fist. “You mean somebody else has been sticking her nose in your private life?”

  “Yeah, only it’s a him. Tristan.” She told them about her great-grandfather’s warning.

  “He’s got a point, Lark,” Diera said. “Don’t read too much into whatever you and Gawain have going on. Yes, he’s handsome and charming, and Merlin knows he’s skilled, but he’s not interested in more than a night or two. You definitely won’t be getting a Truebond out of him.”

  The bitterness in her voice made Lark’s brows climb. Caroline gasped exactly what she was thinking. “Ohmigod. You and Gawain had a thing!”

  Diera shot her an exasperated look. “When you’ve been around as long as we have, everybody has had a thing with everybody else. And everybody knows it.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “Avalon—the biggest small town in either universe.”

  Ignoring her, Diera turned an intense gaze on Lark. “Have you ever wondered how Kel stays alive? Obviously, he can’t eat, he’s a sword.”

  Lark blinked, taken aback by the abrupt conversational detour. “Well, I assumed he absorbs energy from the Mageverse.”

  Diera shook her blond head. “He and Gawain have a symbiotic relationship. He draws on the knight’s life force.”

  Caroline whistled soundlessly. “In other words, Gawain is eating for two.”

  “Exactly. Which means that unlike most of the other Magi, he can’t subsist on bottled blood. He needs the psychic charge from taking it directly from a woman during sex. And he’s never had a problem getting it.”

  Caroline grinned. “So you’re saying if he were mortal, he’d have, like, six thousand STDs. Talk about a Magic Johnson.”

  Lark groaned at the pun. “You should be ashamed.”

  The grin only broadened. “It’s a gift.”

  “Stop it,” Diera snapped, out of patience. “This is serious.”

  The humor fled Caroline’s gaze. “No, actually, it’s not. Lark is a big girl. She can protect herself. And not all relationships with knights of the Round Table end in broken hearts. There’s a good chance Gawain will see what the rest of us do, that she has a lot to offer.”

  Lark was so absurdly touched, she had to turn it into a joke. “Awww, I didn’t know you cared.”

  “Ignore her, she’s a newlywed,” Diera growled. “Not all of us get happy endings. And I don’t want you to end up miserable.”

  Her friend meant well—she might even have a point—but Lark was getting tired of the conversation. “Speaking of those who haven’t had a happy ending, do you know how to break the spell on Kel?”

  Diera gave her a long look before she evidently decided to allow the shift of subject. “If I did, it would already be broken.” She curled her lip. “We all know the method the original spell-caster had in mind, but obviously nobody’s going to do that.”

  “Wait. Whoever turned Kel into the sword told him how to break the spell? Why the heck hasn’t he done it already?”

  “Because he’d have to kill Gawain.”

  Lark stared at her, appalled. “I thought you said they have a symbiotic relationship?”

  She nodded. “As long as Kel’s a sword. If he slays Gawain, the spell breaks and he’s free again.”

  “Wait a minute, how could he do that?” Caroline demanded. “He doesn’t have a body.”

  “Death spell,” Lark realized. “If they’re linked, Gawain would have no way to block it.”

  “That, or someone could use Kel t
o run him through. Either way, Gawain’s dead.” Diera shrugged. “On the other hand, if Gawain dies from some other cause before Kel is freed from the sword…”

  “…Kel will die,” Lark finished.

  “Deprived of Gawain’s magical sustenance, his consciousness would begin to fade. Eventually, there would be nothing left but the steel of the sword.”

  Sickened, Lark pictured it: the tiny dragon, slowly freezing into metal…. She shuddered.

  It was almost as appalling as the thought of Gawain himself dead, all that seductive power gone, the green eyes lifeless.

  “Diera?” The voice was rich, deep, and familiar. The three women turned to see a tall, dark-haired vampire moving through the Ladies’ Club as the other diners watched him with tolerant amusement. Generally, men were encouraged to stick to the Lords’ Club, but all of them recognized a lovesick Magus when they saw one.

  Reaching their table, he looked down at Diera with heat in his dark eyes. “I woke from the Daysleep and you were gone.”

  Antonio Calendri had a long, lean swimmer’s build, a gorgeous mouth, and a lusciously slurred Italian accent that seemed to breathe sex into every syllable he spoke.

  Caroline and Lark threw each other a knowing glance. Caroline, irrepressible as always, rose and extended her hand. “You must be Antonio. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Caroline Du Lac.”

  Antonio shook her hand, white teeth flashing against his olive face in a charming smile. “Ahh, Galahad’s wife! I’ve heard much about you, too.” Sweeping the table with a glance, he asked politely, “May I join you?”

  “Go right ahead!”

  “Please do,” Lark agreed. It’ll distract Diera from her obsession with my love life.

  He slid into a chair next to his mentor, all dark, catlike masculine grace, the perfect foil for Diera’s fairy princess beauty. As his gaze went to her face, intent with longing, a blush climbed Diera’s cheeks. She glanced away, clearing her throat.

  Caroline cut her eyes at Lark, who fought a smile.

  Antonio leaned toward Diera. Before he could purr whatever bit of seduction he had in mind, a rising, scandalized murmur rose, very different from the reception he’d received.

  Someone called, “Gawain, what the hell are you doing in the Ladies’ Club?”

  “Looking for a lady,” the knight’s deep voice shot back. “Haven’t found one yet.”

  Someone catcalled a friendly insult in return.

  “Damn,” Caroline breathed, saying exactly what she was thinking. “He came into the club after you! He must be pissed.”

  Lark craned her neck and spotted him scanning the restaurant. His eyes narrowed as he saw her, and he started in their direction, his strides long and determined.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Diera tense. Antonio frowned.

  Reaching their table, Gawain loomed over Lark’s chair. “I’m sorry, were Morgana’s instructions not clear enough for you?” His deceptively pleasant tone provided a sharp contrast to the angry snap of his eyes. “You’re my responsibility. If you gallivant off somewhere and get yourself killed, I can assure you Arthur Pendragon is not going to accept, ‘I was asleep,’ as an excuse!” His voice climbed perilously close to a shout.

  Lark stared up at him, astonished.

  “You’ll have to excuse him, dear,” Diera said into the ringing silence. “He’s not used to waking up alone. Usually he’s the one who sneaks out in the middle of the night.”

  Lark’s jaw dropped as she turned to stare at her friend. Where the hell had that come from?

  “Diera…” Antonio said in a warning voice, his narrowed dark eyes snapping.

  Gawain studied him, then lifted a brow at Diera. “This must be your apprentice. Shouldn’t you be off training him?”

  Diera merely smiled, catlike and taunting. “Actually, he needs very little training. He may not be as experienced as some, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm.”

  Gawain’s smile was downright icy as he looked down at the stunned young Magus. “Do you think you’ve had enough, Antonio?”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw as he stared at Diera with angry eyes. “At the moment, yes.” He rose from his seat and strode toward the door.

  Diera stared after his broad back, her face stricken.

  Caroline gave her a pitying look and leaned in close to whisper, “Go after him, dumb ass.”

  The Maja rose, threw down her napkin, and hurried in her apprentice’s wake.

  Gawain turned his attention on Caroline with a coolly lifted brow. “I imagine you’re Galahad’s assignment. Does he know where you are?”

  “We’re Truebonded, Gawain,” Caroline snapped, referring to the deep psychic link married couples formed. “Of course he knows where I am. And he says he’s known you since Jesus was a little boy, and you’ve never been this big a jerk. What’s eating you?”

  “Morgana called me this morning with a mission, and I had to tell her I’d already lost my new apprentice. She wasn’t exactly thrilled.”

  Lark winced. “Sorry.” Way to go, McGuin—you haven’t been partners with the man two days, and you’ve already managed to embarrass him. “What mission are we talking about?”

  “There’s been a murder Morgana believes was the work of one of our sorcerer friends. She wants us to check it out and see if we can track down the bastard.”

  Lark nodded and tossed her own napkin aside. “All right, let’s go.”

  As she rose from her seat, her gaze met Kel’s over Gawain’s shoulder. The little dragon shrugged its metallic wings in an I-don’t-know-what’s-gotten-into-him-either gesture.

  Diera hurried from the Ladies’ Club, following her apprentice. “Antonio! Wait. Please.”

  He finally stopped in the club’s courtyard, shoulders squared as he stared out over the wrought-iron fence at the moon just rising over Avalon’s gleaming skyline. He did not look around.

  She stopped there, suddenly at a loss. Remembering the things she’d said, shame stung her so hard, she winced. Taking a deep breath, she stepped beside her lover and stared up into his profile. He looked as handsome and stony as a Roman statue.

  “I suppose I owe you an apology.” Diera forced a laugh. “Gawain has always had a talent for turning me into a little witch.”

  Antonio turned to look down at her. For a man with such warm eyes, his gaze could go remarkably icy. “Considering your extensive experience, I’d think you’d be beyond blaming others for your behavior.”

  She winced again. “You’re right, of course. It’s just…I did love Gawain once, very deeply. When he left me, I wanted to die.”

  “Do you still love him?” Vulnerability and pain flashed across Antonio’s face, sending a stab of regret through her.

  “No.” Diera blinked in surprise, realizing that she meant it. When had that happened?

  “Then why are you letting such old resentments poison your life?” He searched her expression, then shook his dark head. “You’re the most beautiful and giving woman I’ve ever met. There’s nothing I love more than touching you, being with you. But unless you can let go of the past, there will never be anything between us except stolen kisses in the dark.” Catching her chin in one strong, warm hand, he lifted it until she met his eyes. “Is that enough for you?” His beautiful mouth firmed. “Because it’s not enough for me.”

  Releasing her, he turned and walked through the wrought-iron gate.

  Blinking, Diera watched his broad back move rapidly off into the moonlit night. Suddenly she realized if she let him go, she’d lose something precious.

  “Antonio?” she breathed. “Antonio!” He didn’t stop. Diera broke into a run. “Wait!”

  Wheeling, he reached for her even as she threw himself into his arms. His mouth crashed down on hers, hot and possessive with relief and hunger.

  Diera closed her eyes and kissed him back.

  Gawain silently gritted his teeth as he stalked from the Ladies’ Club, acutely aware of the amused stares
that followed him. Caroline was right—he’d acted like an idiot.

  Finding Lark with Diera had put the finishing touches on a rotten start to the night. Like Tristan, his former lover had probably spent the afternoon regaling Lark with tales of his recklessness, faithlessness, and general lack of morality. Never mind that Diera herself hadn’t exactly been blameless in their romantic debacle.

  “Is there a reason you acted like a jerk?” Lark asked, her tone almost matter-of-fact despite the temper he could hear simmering in her voice.

  “As I’m sure Diera told you, I don’t need a reason.”

  “Actually, he’s always got reasons,” Kel put in. “Sometimes he acts like a jerk because he’s pissed, sometimes because he’s scared, and sometimes just for the sheer orgasmic joy of pissing off everyone he knows.”

  “Shut up, lizard.” Reaching into a pocket of his jeans, he pulled out the folded front page Morgana had sent him. He handed it to Lark. “Take a look. Grim thinks there’s a high probability this is death magic.” Merlin’s Grimorie was a sentient book, and the repository of the wizard’s magical knowledge. Among other things, Grim could display every newspaper on the planet within his pages. That ability had come in particularly handy during the Magekind’s sorcerer hunt.

  Gawain watched as Lark unfolded the paper and read over it before looking up at him. “So where do we go from here?”

  “There’s a good chance our vampire friend’s magic has left a trail,” Kel explained. “I should be able to cast a spell on the body and track him.”

  She frowned. “But you’re going to need the body first.”

  The dragon nodded his small head. “Yes, but that won’t be a problem. Watch…”

  Through their link, Gawain felt Kel call the magic. It rose in a glittering psychic tide and spilled into the paper Lark held.

  An image floated off the page, a ghostly photograph of a smiling, dark-haired woman who looked about thirty-five. According to the newspaper article, Candice Sanders had been a wife, teacher, and mother of three who had been kidnapped from a mall parking lot in Daytona Beach, Florida, two nights before. She’d been found nude and butchered in a vacant lot yesterday, thrown away like so much garbage.