A bright smile broke out across her face. “We should go inside before you suck the life out of me.”
Rubbing my nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss, I relented. “Fine, woman,” I teased. “Drag me back inside after torturing me like that.”
Alexandria play-pouted, giving my chest a gentle shove. “I didn’t say we had to stop, man.”
With a chuckle, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and started walking back toward the fortress. “I need to check on Bedivere, and not to dampen the mood, but shouldn’t you get ready for tomorrow?”
Alexandria faltered in her steps. “Oh, for a moment, I forgot.”
My heart ached for the beautiful creature by my side. “I’m glad you could have a moment for yourself.”
She nodded, crossing the threshold back into the warm hall. “Are you sure we’ll be safe?” A hint of concern reflected in her tone.
I slipped my jacket off and slung it over my arm, placing a hand on her lower back and guiding her back toward the main foyer.
“The palace has assured me that Mordred and Lancer will not be allowed to enter the parish.” Glancing down at her, I smiled. “No one will bother us. I promise.”
Alexandria started up the stairs without me, stopping short on the third step. “Thank you, Arthur. For everything.”
The tenderness and warmth in her gaze melted me to my core. I vowed to nurture that trust and affection into something more, something deeper.
“I’d do it all again.”
Her cheeks flushed and trotted up the rest of the way, leaving me staring after her with a soft smile on my face.
Footsteps shuffled to a halt behind me.
“How’s Bedivere doing, John?”
I turned to walk over to the tall, stoic man, and he joined me in heading in the opposite direction.
“He’s doing very well, sir.” His youthful face seemed aged by the stress of the past few months. “He’s awake and has informed us that his name in this life is Victor Scott.”
“Does he remember what happened with Mordred for him to be overpowered?” I arched a brow, glancing over at the priest. If Bedivere could recall how he’d been attacked, maybe we could get a one-up on Mordred before he struck again.
John sucked his teeth and stopped outside the Jade Room. “He says it’s fuzzy, but he knows for certain Mordred called him back.” His whiskey-colored eyes darkened. “The only other thing he can remember is being held down and injected with some substance, and the possession took over immediately.”
Groaning, I ran a hand over my hair and stared at the ornate carpet pattern. The reds, blacks, and gold intertwined together in filigrees and designs until I couldn’t stare anymore.
Finally, I lifted my head and clapped John on the shoulder. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Good.” John nodded, and I could see he had one more question on the tip of his tongue.
I flashed him a knowing grin. “Out with it, mate.”
He seemed a bit uneasy or perhaps awkward at the prospect of what he was about to ask. “How are you and Alexandria getting on? She seems to have warmed up to you a bit more.”
My chest constricted with excitement, thinking of the look in Alexandria’s eyes when she recalled our first kiss. “She’s finally had a memory come back to her, and I think it’s put her more at ease.”
John’s brows went up in surprise. “That’s incredible. I thought Merlin’s abilities were final.”
“So did I, but apparently, our soul bond goes deeper than blood.” With a wink, I entered the light green room with golden accents. Japanese designs decorated the walls, and the fabrics reflected the oriental style.
Bedivere, or Vincent, sat on a chaise lounge next to one of the large windows. His blond hair fell in tight ringlets around his face, and his back tensed as I approached.
Stopping directly behind him, I shoved a hand into my pocket. “Bedivere.”
The man stood abruptly, wincing in his haste and turned to offer a low bow. “My king, please forgive me. I was not in my right mind. Lancer … he lied to me.”
“Hush now.” I placed a hand on his shoulder and offered a tight grin. “I am just happy that you are back in your right mind, and that I didn’t kill you in the process.”
His large hazel eyes widened, understanding that all was forgiven. “Thank you, my lord. Now that I am here, I plan to put my energy to good use for you.”
The years flew by in my mind’s eye.
I’d always faced the challenges set forth by Mordred alone, with only Merlin as my companion. Now, slowly but surely, my men were gathering.
One by one, Vivian had called them back from their eternal slumber for one more fight. One more chance to rid the world of evil and abolish Mordred from this plane forever. The unnerving piece of information that Mordred could also call back my knights didn’t sit well with me. My men were godly men, ordered in their steps by an unwavering code of chivalry.
With Mordred, he twisted their DNA and possessed their souls.
“Rest now, Victor.” I winked, calling him by his earthly name in this life. “I need you strong for what we have to do.”
He nodded and sat back down with a bit of a grimace.
Turning on my heel, I walked out of the room to meet Vivian in the hall.
“John told me that Alexandria had a memory come to her.” Her eyes shone bright, brimming with hope. “Merlin can’t believe she’s had a breakthrough, but that just goes to show that even though a blood bond can be broken, a soul bond cannot.”
I glanced over Vivian’s shoulder to make sure that we were alone. “May I ask you something?”
The bright expression on her face immediately soured, and her gaze narrowed. “Of course, but I suspect it is about how Mordred is also able to call back your men from beyond the grave without me.”
“Precisely.” My mouth set in a grim line. “How is that possible, Vivian? You’re the only priestess I know who can do such a thing.”
Her hand folded in front of her pale lavender skirt. “This is something that John, Merlin, and I have discussed at length.” She sighed. “Mordred must have found the third part of the sphere.”
My throat clamped shut. “What?”
Solemnly, Vivian closed her eyes. “Morgan admitted to us that she didn’t have the power to pull your men back from the dead although Mordred has forced her to try.”
The entire world shifted. In my castle, I held two of the three pieces of the Lance of Longinus. The bladed head evaded Merlin and me from ever finding it. This new development could change everything as well as ruin the hard work we’d put in so far.
“If he is able to pierce me with that blade, Vivian …” I couldn’t finish my sentence. I didn’t want to.
We stood in silence, both understanding the gravity of the possibilities in front of us. If Mordred was able to stab me or even get a good graze in, I’d be in for a world of trouble. Since the lance isn’t complete, I wouldn’t be killed, but I would be rendered helpless.
The blade of the lance drew small increments of a person’s life force—their soul—from them. With the entire weapon intact, my soul would cease to exist. A secondary aspect of the head, or the blade portion of the lance, was the ability to connect to the dead. Also known as the spear of destiny, if Mordred managed to get his hands on all three pieces, he’d be able to wreak havoc.
Glancing back at Vivian, I resigned myself to continue forward. “We’ll stick to our path and our plan. He only has one piece. We hold the others.” I walked past the powerful woman and said over my shoulder, “So long as we have Excalibur’s sheath protecting us and providing a barrier, they can’t get in.”
“Just be careful, Arthur.” Her words caused my feet to slow. “We’re delving into unchartered territory.”
I pivoted on my heel and shot the priestess a cheeky grin. “Vivian, my dear, I am the uncharted.”
When I spun back around to continue down to my office, I heard her snort, but then a
faint chuckle followed.
What I’d said was true.
I was cursed.
I was a legend.
And I refused to allow the whims of another to set sail for me.
Let Mordred steer the ship.
I smirked.
And I shall be the sea that sinks him.
TWENTY
Alexandria
My emotions created a torrential storm within my chest, then my stomach. The two were apparently at war, and so far, my stomach was winning. How could it not?
Nerves plunged my core into the tightest knots imaginable. Barely able to swallow due to the tightness in my throat, and the cotton mouth on my tongue, I struggled to breathe as the black car slipped out of Caliburn’s drive and onto the main road.
Avalon sat next to me, one arm protectively around my shoulders and the other holding my hand in his lap. If I let go, I swore the earth would swallow me whole. He was the only person who could keep me grounded today; for today was the day I said good-bye to my final family member.
Good-bye to a woman who’d been innocent and cruelly murdered.
Good-bye to all ties to blood in this life.
Perhaps that was the irony of my life.
My blood bond with Arthur dissolved when my memories were erased, and now, my final relative had been snubbed out in cruel revenge.
It didn’t seem fair, and it wasn’t.
Mordred declared open season on Avalon and me.
This will be the first of many losses. A still, small voice played over and over in my head. You must be strong and endure.
Guinevere.
I held our rosary in my hands, needing the strength it could offer, but the beads came with her warnings.
Still, I needed to know the truth and stop lying to myself.
The innocent trials of last year were over, and something new had begun. Something sinister and bloodthirsty slithered on its belly too close for comfort. Whatever it was smelled of despair and death—like hell.
Clutching the beads tighter between my fingers, I prayed for peace in the chaos.
When the car rolled to a slow stop in front of the parish, my chest took over. I took a moment to calm my racing heart, willing it to stay within my ribs.
“Alexandria, we’re here.” Avalon’s deep tenor rumbled through his body and into my own.
A brief shiver raced through me as he ran his thumb across the back of my knuckles reassuringly.
“Are you ready?” he asked gently.
I could only nod before the car door on my side opened, and the bright sunlight filtered in. The car had tinted windows, and my eyes squinted in the bright light as they adjusted.
“Ms. York.” Merlin offered me his hand, and I took it.
A murmur went through the small crowd gathered in front of the small stone church. I saw some familiar faces of family friends of my grandmother’s, and some people I didn’t know. They all seemed glued to the man who protectively placed his hand on my lower back to guide me through the ogling stares.
Here I was, little orphaned Alexandria York, being escorted by the Duke of Avalon. I’m sure rumors abounded last year as to the status of our relationship and would now come roaring back to the front page tabloid news.
I kept my gaze firmly on the ground in front of me as I walked into the cool parish. The sea of black and multi-colored eyes followed me inside. The reverend met me at the end of the short aisle and took both my hands, giving me his condolences and words of encouragement.
To the world, my grandmother’s death looked like death by natural causes. Vivian and Merlin hadn’t quite figured out how Mordred managed such an innocent murder, but David mused that an injection of some sort must have been used. I refused to allow myself to think about the how and more on the why.
Why kill a woman in her late eighties?
To send a message.
Mordred wanted to let me know he could strike anyone, anywhere.
He declared war on Avalon a long time ago. Now, I’d defied him, and it was my turn to face his wrath.
He messed with the wrong woman.
Try as I might, rage still boiled just below the thin surface of calm.
Avalon gave me a gentle push forward, and the reverend stepped aside, allowing me to go to my grandmother’s casket.
I stood before her lifeless body for a few moments, willing her to forgive me for taking away her only means of protection. Once I’d said my piece, I sat in the front pew, allowing the others to file forward and pay their final respects.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw men in black suits posted in different areas of the parish. John spoke with the reverend, dressed in his black slacks, black shirt, and white collar. For a religious man, he sure struck an impressive figure.
So many of his mannerisms reminded me of Lancer, and I forced myself not to hate him by association. In this life, they weren’t related by blood but by their souls. The two men looked nothing alike, yet John’s actions mirrored so many of Lancer’s.
He caught me staring at him and nodded his head.
Forcing a small smile, I turned my attention back to my hands, fiddling with the rosary.
When the final person sat down, the reverend began his service.
Many people laughed as they listened to the reverend’s words, and many others sniffled and wiped away tears. A few of my grandmother’s favorite hymns were sung, and then the casket closed.
I’d asked the six men around me to walk my grandmother’s casket to the hearse for the short drive around the back of the parish to bury her next to my grandfather and parents. So Avalon, Merlin, John, David, Isaac, and Victor stood on the sides and followed me and the reverend outside. The congregation tottered along behind the casket.
This was the hard part.
Numbly, I slipped back inside the car for the short trek while the rest of the guests walked up the hill path. Avalon continued to pepper me with concerned glances, but I couldn’t even fake a smile. I’d not been to my parents’ grave since my grandfather’s funeral eight years ago.
Part ashamed of that fact and part resentful I had to see where my entire family laid cold beneath my feet, I did what was expected of me.
Staring with a blank expression on my face, I didn’t move my gaze from the top of my grandmother’s gleaming coffin. The reverend handed me a bowl of dirt as the men slid Margret York deeper and deeper into the earth.
My fist gripped a handful to sprinkle into the grave.
The guests said their final amen and began to leave.
All I could do was stare at the gaping hole, afraid to look to my right.
One by one, David, Isaac, Victor, Merlin, John, and Vivian left me standing in the chilly air. Avalon placed a hand on the small of my back.
“Alexandria.” He spoke slowly, gently. “We should head back.”
Slowly, I craned my neck over my shoulder and saw my parents’ headstone. Their names gunned me down in accusation. Why did such a loving daughter never visit them?
Because they aren’t there anymore.
Tears blurred my vision, and I tentatively reached out to touch the cold stone. For all the memories I’d lost, the tragedy of losing my parents stuck with me.
“It’s all right, love.” Avalon guided me, never letting go. “You can cry.”
Would it really be okay?
I’d cried for years.
Every holiday and birthday I moved on without them.
And now I was well and truly alone.
Choking back a sob, I lowered myself onto my haunches, one hand on the grave and the other covering my face.
Mordred took everything away from me.
First my parents, then Avalon, and now my grandmother.
An animalistic scream escaped without warning, encompassing all my anguish.
Never again would I allow anyone to take away what belonged to me.
Never.
I spoke once the tears subsided, but I barely recognized my voice. �
�Arthur?”
“Yes, love?” He’d knelt next to me, rubbing my back and whispering sweet words to me.
“I want to go home.” I sniffled, glancing up into gray eyes that matched the overcast sky.
His jaw tensed, but he said nothing. Instead, he threaded his arms under my knees and across my back and lifted me, tucking me close to his chest.
I rested my head against his suit jacket and let him carry me back to the car. Exhaustion set in, and I just wanted to be back under the protection Caliburn offered.
That was home now. And I would fight tooth and nail to keep it that way.
TWENTY-ONE
Avalon
Pain and sorrow radiated off Alexandria, and I felt helpless, utterly and completely helpless. Nothing I could say or do would make this better. So I stayed silent, holding her close as we drove back to Caliburn in somber silence.
Once the car swung into the drive, my own anxiety and worries subsided. We were back under the protection of multiple barriers. I’d have to call and thank the royal family for lending me their security detail. Alexandria moved like an apparition—not fully alive but not quite dead. Her long legs took her back to the safety of her rooms, and I let her be. Sometimes, being alone was the best medicine.
I caught Vivian in the chapel, praying at the altar, so I sat on a pew to wait. She crossed herself and stood back to her full height, shaking her head with a sad expression reflecting in her clear blue eyes. “No matter how badly I want to raise Alexandria’s family from the dead, I cannot.”
I sucked in a breath.
She read my mind.
“They were not a part of the curse, so therefore I have no power. They died by Mordred, yes, but they were born to this time, not ours.”
Clenching my hands into fists, anger, and disappointment flooded my veins. “Damn.”
Vivian ignored my curse and came to sit next to me. “There are many things we can do that defy reality, but we cannot alter the things we have no hold over.”
“I know.” Pouting, I glowered at my hands. “I just wish I could make this pain go away. I hate to see her so broken.”
The priestess spoke with a tender smile in her voice. “She’s lost her family from this life, so why not give her the family back from her past life?”
Return to Avalon: Book #4 (The Legend Series) Page 11
