by Candace Sams
“I remember a t-time when you were a v-virgin. No man could g-get near you.” Trey admonished. “What h-happened to that w-woman?”
“She got p-pummeled nearly to d-death by her old m-man, and decided n-not to t-take any male shit anymore!” Frankie told him as she got up from the bed and stumbled toward her sibling. “I-I’m not that person, Scotty. She’s dead. Besides, please don’t tell me you haven’t slept with somebody’s sister!”
“You’re right, Sarah.” For a moment, he looked her over and then held out his arms as he stood to hug her. “I m-missed you.”
She tearfully held out her arms to hug him back. “I missed you, too, S-Scotty.”
A barrage of incoherent apologies, and long held simultaneous mutterings having to do with the old days took place. All she wanted to do was hold onto her big brother, and be hugged as though they weren’t in the middle of an English castle, waiting for a wizard to turn them into something people scraped off their boots.
“You know, some of us didn’t have siblings. Some of us grew up alone. And some of us didn’t l-like it,” Mac loudly announced.
Frankie sniffed, wobbled out of her brother’s embrace and lurched toward Mac.
“I’ll hug you, Mac. When this is over, I’ll do a lot more. I promise.”
She fell into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, and pushed strands of hair out of her face.
“Now, you’re where y-you need to be,” Mac claimed. “I’m y-your man, lass.”
“Uh, if you two are gonna…can I get another room?” Trey questioned as he almost fell into a nearby seat.
A moment later, Trey’s head lolled against the wing of his chair. His long dark hair covered half his face.
“I-I think he passed out, Mac.”
“If we l-live through all th-this, would you stay in England, Frankie?”
She smiled and looped her arms around his neck. “Why?”
“Let’s j-just say that s-someone would like you to s-stay. Could you f-find a way?”
She cupped his cheeks, and was about to give him an answer when the sound of doors being smashed filled the entire floor of the castle. The monstrously loud sound originated from down the hallway, to their left. The crashing was so fearsome that Trey awoke with a start.
Mac immediately shoved her from his lap. “I’ll have that answer later. Right now, we need to get stuff to block my bedroom door. I think the castle’s wizard is in a bit of a mood!”
Amid screams and shrieks of wizardly rage coming from the hallway, the trio tried to put anything in front of their closed door, to block access from outside.
“Someone is here,” Trey announced.
“Hell yeah!” Frankie shot back. “And he’s trying to murder us!”
Trey glared at his sister. “No. I mean someone else.”
Mac put his back to the pile of furniture blocking the inside of his door. “I think Trey is talking about Garrett having arrived. At least, I h-hope that’s who it is.”
Frankie shook her head as she pushed a large table across the room, toward the men already guarding the inside of Mac’s bedroom door. “Garrett wasn’t due for hours.”
Mac blinked hard, visibly. “The whiskey is wearing off. Pray that Bloodnight is here, or we might end up as Merlin’s chew toys!”
“I will kill you all!” Merlin yelled as his voice echoed off the gallery halls.
A sound of footsteps seemed to have stalled the wizard’s attempts to get into the room. But Mac and Trey still held their positions against the piled furniture.
Frankie opened the drapes. As with Mac, the whiskey was now wearing off quite fast since they weren’t swilling it constantly. She looked outside, toward the graveled drive below. “I can see Garrett Bloodnight. He’s got a shitload of people with ‘im!”
“Is one of them is Anna Gast?” Mac queried as he stumbled toward the window.
More scuffling took place outside the door.
Trey backed away from the pile of furniture. “I can hear someone speaking. It’s very low, but I can hear it.”
They all tilted their heads, simultaneously. The sound of a woman speaking softly filtered into the room.
They stood still, as if frozen.
“Merlin,” the soft voice entreated, “you must leave the castle and come with me. We must take a walk now. There’s nothing in that room that concerns you.”
“It’s Anna,” Mac muttered. “Merlin is responding. I don’t sense his anger anymore.”
Trey dragged his hands through his hair. “If he’s still off his rocker, Anna won’t be safe.”
“If he’s still eaten up by dark magic, nobody will be,” Mac advised.
Some minutes later, the sound of heavy bootsteps sounded in the hallway. A man’s voice boomed out a question.
“Mac…are you all right?”
“We’re safe, hiding like sheep!” he responded. Then, Mac turned to Frankie and Trey. “It’s Garrett.”
Ashamed, yet glad to be alive, Frankie helped her two compatriots pull tables, chairs and other paraphernalia away from the doorway. She hung her head as she followed her brother and Mac out the door, and into the hallway where at least twenty people stood by Garrett Bloodnight, all staring at them.
She moved to Trey’s side and remained silent while Mac made introductions. She knew of Garrett Bloodnight, but had never formally been introduced. She knew nothing about the rest of his staff. All the while, she felt as though she’d embarrassed her country as well as herself.
A lovely woman about her own age — with reddish brown hair, friendly blue eyes, and a slender figure, stepped forward. This woman was dressed as she was. Blue jeans, flannel shirts or sweaters, boots, and long dusters. All of this seemed to be the fashion choice of the castle’s denizens.
As this young woman approached, the others kept talking amongst themselves.
“I’m Jean Long,” the girl supplied as she held out her hand.
Frankie readily shook it and liked the other woman instantly. There was nothing but very good and honest vibes coming from Jean. “I’m glad to meet you. I’m Francesca Radcliffe. But…you’d know that, of course.”
“Come with me, Frankie. We can go to the study, and you can make sure that your comrades from the states are fully apprised of Merlin’s issues. Then, we can have a long talk while you catch your breath. This must have been a harrowing experience. For all of you. It’s lucky that the message got to us in time.”
“You know about my calling Washington and asking for backup?”
“Yes. When Mac originally called, the plan was to leave Scotland after dark, and take the drive slowly so as not to attract attention. That was why we gave him an ETA of midnight. As you probably know, Garrett and Mac are both very well known in the UK. I’m not. So, the last thing we wanted was for someone to see me in a car, with known immortals, rushing back to Bloodnight Castle as though all hell had broken loose. We didn’t, for any reason, want to alert the paparazzi of our whereabouts. Then, we got another call from Her Majesty’s people telling us to move our asses. That was when we pulled out all the stops to get back here.”
Frankie checked her wristwatch. The time was just after noon. It seemed an eternity had passed from the peace of that morning. “You guys must have been flying, to get here so soon.” Frankie shook her head and held out her hands in abject apology. “I’m so, so sorry about the damage to the castle, and for everything else that’s happened. I’m not making a very good first impression. I’ve only heard of Mr. Bloodnight. Hell, everyone has heard of him. He’s a legend in the world of immortals,” she babbled. “I can’t think he’s very enthralled with me, as his American ally, right now.”
“Garrett knows this was no fault or yours,” Jean adamantly replied. “He nor I haven’t trusted Merlin for a while now. He keeps too many secrets. Of course, you’ll have heard the one about Garrett being the descendant of Sir Galahad. That one pissed Garrett off so badly that he had to get away from Merlin entirely. Then
again, I wasn’t ready for a fight. I needed more training, and still do.”
“I wish you’d come back under better circumstances, Jean.”
“We suspected something might be happening, but didn’t know Merlin could be overcome by the very darkness he was scrying into. He’s used a great deal of power, in trying to attack you three. He seems to have more-or-less burned himself out for a while. But never mind all that. You need to let your American friends know what’s happening. Her Majesty will get them here as soon as she possibly can. But they need to hear from you.”
“Merlin…he took out every way to communicate.”
Jean briefly put her hands to her face. “I didn’t know he could do such a thing. Luckily, Anna has him under control. At least she and her husband, Ben, have got him out of the castle. They’ll walk him into the woods, into the protective circle. There, he can soak up nature and calm down. He seemed to be responding very well to Anna. When we arrived, we heard him yelling from outside. Anna almost threw herself out of the car to get to him before he harmed someone!”
“What if there’s nothing anyone can do to help him?”
“I don’t know,” Jean responded. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But there are an awful lot of Ethereals present. Myself included. Of course, I don’t know how to handle this situation. I’m very new to this life. But I’ll do everything I can to help.”
Frankie nodded. “Thank you for being so understanding. I feel like a total pussy!”
“Nonsense! You make your phone calls, and then we’ll get you to your room where you can rest.”
Frankie followed the other woman downstairs, to the study.
No matter how long it took, she’d find a way to redeem herself in the eyes of the Brits. Mac had done everything he’d known how to do. Still, she sensed his embarrassment as well as Trey’s. While necessary to survive a magician’s wrath, their behavior still smacked of overt, base cowardice. They’d hidden in a room, getting drunk to avoid having their minds being manipulated.
There was a time when Merlin would never have threatened his comrades. Every move he’d made that day smacked of darkness. Perhaps he truly had considered a very evil abyss, for far too long. The pressure of the coming battle had pushed him over his limits.
Well…she’d wanted a different life way back there in Galveston. She’d wanted adventure, and to see strange countries, and experience new cultures. She’d wanted to be her own person, and never be subservient to any man. She had wanted respect and recognition.
This was a poor showing, even if there’d been no other way to survive until backup arrived. Hiding was not something that left a good taste in her mouth. Certainly, it wasn’t something appropriate for an American immortal acting as a US representative.
From now on, everything she did must be ultimately professional, down to the way she talked and dressed. She had to prove herself more than ready for the fight of the millennium; more than capable of taking out the man who, according to Merlin, now stood at Morgan LeFey’s side.
Father.
No matter what anyone thought of them having hidden, she would still insist that Father was hers.
She didn’t know how the battle would take place. There was no way of knowing what Morgan would do to initiate the first attack. But it would come soon. She felt it. There was a sense of urgency even in Jean Long. It was hanging in the air, as palpable as incense. Merlin had let that sense of impending doom get to him. She wouldn’t.
With the bitter taste of weakness and whiskey still in her mouth, Frankie did her best to regain professional bearing, and act like the warrior she was.
“Don’t worry, Frankie. I know what you’re feeling,” Jean told her. “You had no other choice! Macsen Rhys saved your life, and the life of your brother. If there is anyone here who should be ashamed it’s Merlin. He’s fallen into darkness by trying too hard to locate an enemy he knows is very close. He likely cut corners in his latest scrying sessions, and didn’t protect himself with the proper spells. But what he did to Garrett…and what Mac told us he did to you and your brother…that was all done, by his choice, and while Merlin was in his clear mind. I wouldn’t blame you if you never spoke to that cagey sorcerer again. I don’t know that I shall.”
“What if we must go to battle without him, Jean? We might not like his tactics, but we need his magic”
“Better to fight alongside those we can trust. Especially someone wielding that kind of magic!”
Chapter 12
Almost two weeks later, Mac stood atop his hill. He watched the landscape carefully. It was late in the afternoon. Shadows near the woods were beginning to form as the sun went down but his preternatural vision, at the darkest hour of any day, was as good as if there was a full sun overhead.
The wind blew cold around him. Having arrived as Frankie promised, the Americans had set themselves up, taking turns guarding various locations as suggested by Garrett Bloodnight. While they were under Frankie’s control, her ego wasn’t so big that she wouldn’t take recommendations from those who knew the landscape better than she did.
Her Majesty’s people had done a brilliant job of getting the Yanks to Bloodnight Castle, from London, and without anyone being the wiser. They’d arrived in small groups, as if they were tourists or guests being entertained at Garrett’s discretion. To any locals they’d encountered, the new residents of the castle steadfastly insisted that they were not immortals, but friends of various European nobles. They made it clear that they were only in that part of the UK on holiday. To make that story stick, the Yanks had all affected different accents. Some made themselves appear to be French, others faked being Irish, others were pretending to be Mexican. The bolder and merrier they acted while the day staff from local villages worked at Bloodnight Castle, the more their story held up. That staff who weren’t members of POSI, went home before dark, when the hills were then crawling with Brits and Yanks, all looking for any sign of the first attack.
It was all ridiculously crazy how well everything was working out, especially since the tourists in the area offered magnificent tips to the locals. No one would suspect that such a bawdy and raucous group was anything but the vacationers they pretended to be.
Frankie had chosen her team well.
Aside from throwing themselves into their cover stories, the Americans’ stealth impressed him mightily. He began to realize why Merlin had wanted them present for this battle. While normal citizens were near, even Frankie and Trey walked around the property speaking with Swedish accents that would have fooled the most discerning linguist or dialectician.
Merlin would have been proud of their ability to pull off such a stunt.
As to that wily wizard, Mac hadn’t seen or spoken to the man since Anna Gast had taken her brother into the woods, and into the protective circle where he could do no harm to anyone. As the pair were used to living outdoors from centuries ago, provisions were brought to them as and when Anna requested. Merlin’s steadfast sister was doing everything she could to get her brother’s mind straightened out, and without anyone else watching or interfering.
Garrett reported that the sage had lost his will to attack anyone, and was now back to his more congenial, happy self. Sadly, however, Merlin now believed he was in another time, when Arthur walked these lands. It was said that the Sorcerer of Camelot kept asking to see Sir Galahad, or one of the other long-dead knights of old. The old magus had even requested an audience with King Arthur.
Whatever inappropriate scrying techniques the wizard had used to find Morgan during these last, grave days, he’d paid for that carelessness dearly. Many believed they might not need Merlin’s help after all. There were plenty of Ethereals present. However, this situation was not what the magician of magicians would have wanted.
There was no time left now. The very air was filled with anticipation. That battle would be soon. Everyone knew it. Everyone prepared for it. Those allies in the hills kept their presence quite hidden
from the locals. How long such subterfuge lasted depended on how the battle went. If it spilled out of these hills — as everyone was certain Morgan wanted — then the whole world would learn secrets that governing bureaucrats had kept for centuries.
His senses caught the approach of another immortal. Without turning to look, he knew who it was. Only one person he knew walked with such assurance and grace. Though she could not have been heard by even the most well-trained bloodhound, he would have known her presence anywhere. She smelled fresh and clean, and there was a telltale odor of coffee coming from the paraphernalia she carried.
Frankie had taken to making sure hot meals and beverages were ready at night. Since humans not privy to this mission went home hours before dark, there were few hands left to cook. Frankie, once known as Sarah Pratt, was the most excellent chef they had. Everyone was glad she took over that chore.
“Coffee, Mac?”
He squarely faced her. “Yes. Lots of it.”
With her sword secured in her baldric, Frankie’s hands were free to pour him coffee from a thermos snuggled away in her large carryall. After the coffee was provided, she pulled forth a large, wrapped bundle.
“What’s that?”
“Peanut butter sandwich.” She shrugged. “It was the best I could do this evening. I did fry it and add in some bananas.”
His brows shot up, but he didn’t turn down the offering.
She laughed. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”
He simply nodded, sipped his coffee and unwrapped his sandwich. One bite and he knew he’d found a new favorite on the list of foods she’d provided.
As he continued with his meal, she rearranged the contents of her carryall and sat on a nearby rock. Something in her calm attitude alerted him. Eventually, she simply sat there, staring at the sky.
“What’s wrong, Frankie?”
“I was making myself a cup of tea this afternoon. The gardener came in and asked me if I thought Mr. Bloodnight would mind if he left early. I told the man that I was sure it’d be all right. Then, the guy let a brick drop that I wasn’t prepared to hear.”
