He studied her a long moment, a strange expression on his face. “I begin to understand why fate has chosen you, Anna Randal.”
Chapter 18
Cezar watched the puzzlement fill Anna’s eyes at his soft words. Not surprising. Despite her hard-earned confidence in her abilities, she was still remarkably oblivious to just how truly special she was.
The Oracles, however, were very much aware that her talents were more than her ability to control the elements, or even the ancient destiny that coursed through her blood. Her true power was her unwavering integrity.
This was not a woman who would be swayed by power or anger or fear. She would do what she felt was right in her heart.
He had chosen well, he acknowledged with a flare of pride.
“Is that another one of those mysterious comments that you have no intention of explaining?” she demanded with an edge in her voice.
Cezar smiled wryly. “I think we should move on to more pressing matters.”
“Such as Morgana le Fay?”
“Si.” His arm tightened around her. Dios. He would give his life if he could keep her out of this battle. As her mate it was his sacred duty to protect her and keep her from harm. But, while his instincts screamed to send her far from Chicago so he could hunt Morgana, logic dictated that his martyrdom would achieve nothing more than leaving Anna alone to face the Fairy Queen. He couldn’t kill Morgana le Fay. All he could do was stand at Anna’s side and do everthing in his power to see that she succeeded in defeating the bitch. “Morgana le Fay—and how the hell are we going to find her?”
“Oh.” Without warning she struggled from his tight grip and turned around on the bed to face him.
“What?” he demanded.
“I remember something.” Her forehead creased. “Something Clara said.”
“About Morgana?”
She gave a slow nod. “She was babbling about how she tracked me, and then she said that it took so long because the barn was nearly on Morgana’s doorstep.”
Cezar clenched his hands at the startling revelation. He knew he should be happy. If Morgana was within striking distance then this madness might soon be at an end and Anna would be safe. But happiness wasn’t what flooded through him. Instead it was a sharp horror at the mere thought that Anna would soon be forced to face the woman determined to kill her.
With an effort he unclenched his stiff jaws and pushed aside the fear.
“We must tell Styx.”
“Now?” With a small smile, Anna leaned forward, boldly pressing her lips to his chest. Cezar hissed at the feel of her soft caress and the magical scent that wrapped around him. “Right…” Her lips trailed downward. “Exactly…” She nipped the taut skin of his stomach. “Now?”
Cezar tangled his fingers in her hair as he squeezed his eyes shut in sheer bliss.
“Maybe we could wait a minute or two,” he rasped.
“Or three,” she muttered before taking him into her mouth and ending all coherent thought.
Morgana was seated in her bedroom having her long hair brushed by her current lover, a lovely fairy with long blond hair and blue eyes, when Modron staggered into the room and fell to her knees.
Ash screeched in alarm as the hag’s eyes glowed with an eerie white light, but Morgana was swiftly on her feet and shoving aside her squeamish companion.
It had been centuries since the last time, but she recognized when her seer was in the grips of a vision.
“What is it, Modron?” she demanded. “What do you see?”
“Green fire,” the woman moaned, wrapping her arms around herself as she rocked back and forth. “Bathed in green fire.”
“Green fire?” Morgana frowned. “Is it a magical fire?”
“Green fire is everywhere.”
“Yes, you’ve said that, you annoying twit. What does it mean?”
Modron moaned, shaking her head. “Fire…it burns. It burns.”
A cold fear pierced Morgana’s heart. Striding forward she slapped the hag across her ugly cheek.
“Damn you, what is it?”
The glowing white eyes turned toward her, sightless and yet filled with some awful knowledge.
“Arthur,” Modron rasped, her gnarled finger pointing directly at Morgana. “He comes. He comes for you.”
Ash gasped in fear, but Morgana’s face twisted in fury at the mention of her brother.
There was nothing more certain to stir her ready temper than the mention of Arthur.
“Impossible,” she hissed.
Modron shook her head. “Not impossible. Even now he stirs, his weapon cutting through air like an arrow toward its target. The end is coming.”
With an infuriated motion, Morgana backhanded the seer with enough force to send the woman flying into the wall. When she bounced onto the floor she was dead.
At the sound of the disturbance the door to the bedroom was thrust open and two male fairies rushed in, waving their ridiculous guns as if they could be some sort of help.
“Get her out of here.” Morgana pointed toward the bundle of rags in the middle of the floor. “Now.”
With fearful glances in her direction, the two minions scuttled to grab the lifeless Modron and tugged her from the room. Morgana waited until they had crossed the threshold before she slammed the door shut with her powers.
Damn Modron. The stupid woman had no one to blame but herself for making Morgana lose her temper.
What was the point in having visions if they did nothing but offer vague warnings that made no sense?
Green fire? Her dead brother with some sort of weapon?
It was nothing more than gibberish.
“Your Majesty,” Ash said in soft, fearful tones.
Whirling about she glared at him with impatience. “What?”
He licked his thick, pouty lips, looking as if it was taking all his courage not to toss himself through the window. There were few who would willingly linger when her powers began to fill the room.
“Perhaps we should leave here,” he at last admitted, stumbling over his words. “If the seer speaks true…”
Morgana stepped toward her lover, her eyes narrowed in warning. “You would have me flee from a mere girl? A girl who has no idea of her own powers?”
The fairy wisely fell to his knees, his head bowed in respect. “She can’t follow you to Avalon.”
“I will not return to my prison,” Morgana growled, her hair floating in the surge of power. “Not when I am so close to victory.”
“But the seer…”