She reached down to grasp Ash’s chin, jerking his head back to meet her lethal gaze.
“I allowed Modron and her pathetic visions to keep me imprisoned too long.” She tightened her fingers until she threatened to crush Ash’s bones. By her brother’s rotten blood, she was tired of hiding within the mists of her island. She was a queen. A powerful leader who should be worshipped by demons and humans everywhere. To hell with prophecy, she would make her own fate. “Once Anna Randal is dead I will be free to spread my powers throughout the world. Never again will we be forced to hide in the shadows or to bow to those who are beneath us. It will at last be a world that worships the fairies.”
Ash gave a low groan in pain. “But she spoke of Arthur. What if he still lives?”
“My brother is dead and in his grave,” she hissed. “I should know, I buried him myself.”
Something that might have been relief flashed through the blue eyes. “Then I must call for soldiers. You can’t face her alone.”
“Ah yes, my soldiers.” Releasing her hold on the fairy’s chin, Morgana turned to stalk across the cramped room. “They have proven so terribly useful, do you not think, Ash?”
“There have been…difficulties, my Queen.”
With a swift motion, Morgana turned, her burst of power shattering the mirror that stood in the corner.
“So I am told with monotonous regularity,” she said, her voice thick with disgust. How many fairies had she sent to capture Anna Randal only to be disappointed time after time? Clearly, she had been gone from the world too long. “It seems more likely that my beloved subjects have grown lax over the centuries. Or perhaps they have forgotten just how nasty my temper can be when I am disappointed.”
Ash swayed and nearly tumbled backwards. “No, my Queen, we have not forgotten.”
“Still, I think a reminder would not come amiss.” She smiled, and Ash gave up his efforts and slumped sideways in a deep swoon. Moving forward, Morgana casually kicked his limp body into a distant corner before moving across the room to pull open the small, dark closet. A portion of her seething fury eased as she caught sight of the red-haired imp that hung by his neck from an exposed beam. Few things pleased her more than punishing a traitor, and Troy, Prince of Imps, had proven that he was a turncoat of the worst sort. For a moment she considered the notion of devoting a few hours to stripping the skin off the brawny imp, only to give a shake of her head. She was weary of sending out her incompetent, bumbling fairies to disappoint her over and over. It was time to take matters into her own hands. And this treacherous imp was the perfect means to accomplish her task.
Stepping forward, she chuckled as Troy’s emerald eyes flashed with soul-deep fear.
“Well, well, Troy. It appears that you are to be given a chance to redeem yourself in the eyes of your queen.” She reached up to place a hand on his chest, smiling as he screamed in pain. “If you don’t want to spend the rest of eternity being my plaything I suggest you don’t screw it up this time.”
It was nearly two hours later when Anna and Cezar at last emerged from their underground room and made their way toward Viper’s private study at the back of the large, but charmingly unpretentious, country house.
They had showered (a slow, hot, delicious shower) and changed into the clothes that Viper had sent to them, and since Cezar had earlier contacted his host and asked that he request Styx to meet him here, he knew they would impatiently be awaiting their arrival.
Still, he found his feet halting before he could reach the door to the study, as if they had acquired a mind of their own.
At his side, Anna turned to face him. “Is something wrong?”
“I wish…” His voice was thick, his body feeling stiff and awkward. Dios. He’d never felt fear such as this. Not even when he was wading through the bloodiest of battles. “I wish this was over and done with so we could just be together.”
A sad smile touched her lips. “Yes.”
On the point of reaching for her, Cezar was halted as the door was yanked open and Styx stepped into sight. As always, the looming Aztec looked ominous in his black leather and braided hair.
“Night is wasting, amigo,” the Anasso rasped. “We need to make our plans.”
“We’re coming,” Cezar muttered, his narrowed gaze sending Styx retreating back to the study with a wry smile. Waiting until they were alone, he reached to take Anna’s hand. He frowned as he realized it was even colder than his own. Quite a feat for a warm-blooded woman. “Ready, querida?”
She gave a short laugh. “Are you kidding?”
“Are you as ready as you will ever be?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “As long as you’re at my side.”
He squeezed her fingers. “Forever.”
“Then let’s do this.”
Hand in hand they entered the study. Cezar instinctively sent a searching gaze around the room, noting the French doors set between the desk and long bookcases, and the window near the matching leather chairs. Only when he was confident there were no lurking fairies waiting to leap into the house did he turn his attention to the three vampires peering at something on the far wall.
Viper and Styx were easily recognizable, but it took a moment before he realized he knew the third vampire with his long blond braid and massive body.
Jagr.
“Dios,” he breathed, shoving Anna behind his body as Styx hurriedly joined him near the door. “What’s he doing here?”
“Who is it?” Anna demanded, smacking him in the middle of the back.
“Anna.” Moving around Cezar, Styx offered a small bow of his head. “My wife has prepared dinner for you in the kitchen. She hopes that you will join her there.”
Cezar turned to watch the conflicting emotions that flitted over his mate’s expressive face. On one hand she understood the need to eat and keep up her strength; on the other she didn’t want to be left out of the planning. With a smile he ran the back of his fingers down her cheek.
“You must eat, Anna. We will make no decisions without you.”
Her gaze warned of dire retributions if he didn’t keep his word before she grudgingly turned and headed back out the door.
Cezar couldn’t deny a small flare of relief at her departure. He didn’t want Anna anywhere near Jagr. Hell, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be near Jagr.
Waiting until her slender form had disappeared down the hall, Cezar turned to stab his leader with an annoyed glare. “You haven’t answered my question.”