Deepening the kiss, Morgana pressed her hands to Landes’s bare chest, using her powers to drain the life from his large body.
He struggled for a moment before sighing softly and tumbling to the ground. Morgana indifferently stepped over his carcass and with a wave of her hand the two guards were rushing to carry the dead fairy from her throne room.
Waiting for the doors to shut behind the guards, Morgana tilted back her head and shrieked in frustration.
How dare the fates continue to taunt her?
She was a queen. A beloved leader of all fairies. She should be gracing the world with her beauty. She should be worshipped by all. Instead she was forced to hide in the mists of her land, in constant fear that her brother’s final revenge was lurking just out of sight.
“Broken another one of your toys?” a reedy, female voice demanded. “How many times have I warned you about that temper?”
Whirling on her heel, Morgana watched as the shrunken old woman, with nasty tufts of gray hair stuck to her scalp and pure white eyes, shuffled into the room. The queen grimaced, disgusted by the vile smell of rotting teeth and recently slaughtered sacrifice that the woman carried with her.
Modron had taken Morgana from her crib when she was just a babe and raised her as her own. It wasn’t sentiment, however, that kept Morgana from killing the disgusting creature. The woman was a powerful seer. A rare power even among fairies.
“Shut up, you old hag,” she snarled, throwing herself onto her throne with a petulant frown. “I’ve enough troubles without listening to your tedious lectures.”
The woman gave a cackling laugh, crossing to stand before the throne with remarkable ease considering she was completely blind.
“Testy.”
“I’m not testy, I’m furious.” Morgana waved a hand before her nose, her own scent of pomegranates filling the room to cover the hag’s stench. “I’ve devoted a millennium to ridding myself of my brother’s bloodline. I was certain Anna was the last when I roasted her in London. They should be dead. They should be wiped from the face of the earth.”
Modron gave a shake of her head. “They’re like roaches. They refuse to become extinct.”
Morgana pounded her fist on the arm of her throne. “Not this time.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“The last word I had from Sybil was from Chicago.”
The hag’s smile faded, thankfully hiding her rotting teeth. “You intend to travel there?”
Morgana narrowed her gaze. “We’re both traveling there.”
Modron hissed, her hands clutching at the threadbare wool gown that covered her gaunt body. “Leave Avalon? No. It’s too dangerous.”
Morgana leaned forward to slap the woman across the face, the blow powerful enough to send the witch sprawling on the carpet. “Perhaps you should have thought of that before you predicted my death.”
Settling back in her throne, Morgana lifted her gaze toward the black mist overhead.
“I know you’re out there, hiding from me like a coward, but I’m coming for you,” she breathed, her hair swirling as her power flowed from her body. She couldn’t see her prey, but she could sense the stirring power. “And when I find you I’m going to rip your heart from your chest.”
Despite the fact that he had been given a bedchamber in a separate wing of the house from Anna, Cezar woke the moment he heard the distant scream.
With the speed only a vampire could call upon he was racing through the hallway, inwardly relieved that the house had been suitably protected against the late afternoon sun. Of course, he would expect no less from Styx.
The last of the scream was still shuddering in the air when Cezar thrust open the door. He was prepared for battle as he crossed the threshold, two daggers in his hand and a matching pair of handguns strapped to his chest despite the fact that he wore nothing but black silk boxers.
Being a guardian to the Oracles had trained him well.
A swift search of the shadowed room and attached bathroom assured him there were no enemies lurking in the corners. He crossed to the bed and found Anna still fast asleep, her beautiful face flushed as she twisted in the throes of her nightmare.
An abrupt, violent surge of relief nearly sent him to his knees as Cezar stacked his weapons on the nightstand and slid beneath the blankets to pull her shivering body into his arms. Dios. He had feared…
Hell, he couldn’t even make himself consider what he had feared. Not now that he held Anna tightly in his arms, her heart beating frantically against his chest and her hands instinctively clutching at his arms.
For a moment, Cezar savored the feel of her warm body that readily curved toward his. He had waited nearly two centuries to once again feel this heady pleasure. To simply have her in his arms.
Burying his face in her soft curls he soaked in her sweet, lightly fruity scent, his hands running a soothing path up the curve of her spine.
She was wearing nothing more than a flimsy bit of silk and lace that Darcy must have loaned to her, but for the moment Cezar was more intent on easing her fear than stirring her passions.
“Ssh, Anna,” he murmured over and over, his lips lightly brushing her ear.
Slowly her trembling lessened and for a blissful moment she snuggled against the hard planes of his body, as if seeking his comfort. Cezar tightened his hold, still whispering softly in her ear.
A strange peace spread through his heart and Cezar realized that if he possessed the power he might have stopped time in this precise moment. To have this woman wrapped in his arms, her slender body bathing him in heat, and the world seemingly far away.
But while he was a consummate warrior, a well-trained guardian, and a fair scholar, his skills didn’t extend to time-stopping.
Anna sighed softly, her breath brushing over the bare skin of his chest, then she opened her eyes to regard him in dazed confusion.
“Cezar?”
“Si.”
Her hands went from clutching him to pressing him away in alarm. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?”
His arms refused to budge. Beneath her alarm at finding him in her bed was a lingering fear. The dream had shaken her and Cezar wasn’t about to leave until he’d discovered what the hell it had been about.
“You were screaming in your sleep.” He settled his head on a pillow, his gaze searching her strained features. “I thought I had better wake you before the cops came to investigate.”
The stunning hazel eyes darkened as the memory of the dream washed over her. “Oh.”