Expecting a hexed knife, or even one of those charmed amulets that witches loved to flash around, Morgana’s smug assurance cracked and shattered as she caught sight of the emerald that had once graced her brother’s golden crown.
No. No, it couldn’t be.
That gem had been buried with her brother, and despite her best efforts over the centuries to attempt to retrieve the powerful emerald, she had been continually blocked by Merlin’s last and most potent spell.
Damn the wizard to hell.
If he hadn’t managed to disappear Morgana would have dragged him to Avalon and devoted the centuries to teaching the bastard the true meaning of pain.
A tremor raced through her body as the energy of the jewel surged over her skin.
“How…?”
As if taking courage from the emerald, Anna tilted her chin and stepped away from the wall.
“My grandfather gave it to me. He seemed to think that it might help me destroy you.” She clenched her fingers around the stone. “What do you think? Shall, we give it a whirl?”
Morgana instinctively backed away. Until the spell was broken upon it, the emerald would respond only to her brother.
Or, obviously, to one of his blood.
“This is not…not possible.”
Anna’s lips twisted. “Over the past few days I’ve discovered that there are very few things that are impossible.”
“He’s dead,” Morgana said, as much to convince herself as the annoying pest standing before her. “I watched him die.”
“You betrayed him.”
Morgana’s lips curled at the accusation. Of course she had betrayed her brother. She was above the tedious morals that plagued the lesser beings. All that mattered was that she survived and that the world would bow before her.
“Arthur was a fool,” she sneered, thrusting aside her brief unease. With or without the emerald, she still held the upper hand. So long as the vampire was chained in the attic this woman would do nothing. Nothing but die. “With me at his side he possessed the power to rule the world. No one could have challenged us. No one would have dared.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to rule the world,” Anna countered.
Morgana laughed. Typical. There seemed to be some innate flaw in her brother’s blood. An inability to see past the mundane humanity to the glory that was their birthright.
Fate had intended them to be above mortals. Above demons. Above all.
And yet, Arthur insisted on playing the role of the benevolent ruler, always determined to see that his shining vision of justice prevailed.
So weak. So ripe to fall into the hands of his enemies.
She had done him a favor by putting an end to his pathetic dreams.
If she hadn’t, someone else would have.
“You rule or you follow or you die,” she said coldly. “There are no other choices.”
“Did you get that off a bumper sticker?”
Morgana narrowed her gaze at the flippant response. Enough of this foolishness. She wanted answers. “Tell me how you found that emerald.”
“I told you.”
“My brother’s dead.”
“He may be dead, but he has no intention of resting in peace. Not until he’s had his revenge.”
Morgana’s gaze shifted to the emerald. She wanted to deny the bitch’s claim. Arthur’s powers were considerable, but not even he was above death.
Still, there was no denying the rare stone that glittered in the palm of Anna’s hand. Or the fact that the girl couldn’t possibly have acquired it without the assistance of her brother.
Somehow Arthur’s shade had reached out to Anna.
“He has no powers.” She lifted her hands, allowing her magic to swirl through the room, stirring the curtains and making the ugly framed pictures of roosters fall to the cracked linoleum floor. “He can’t harm me.”
Anna’s hair tangled in the breeze, but her expression never faltered. “But I can.”
“Can and will are two very different things, child.” Morgana stepped forward. “You don’t have the stomach to sacrifice your precious vampire to save yourself.”
“Actually, dear Aunt, you’ve miscalculated.” With an oddly haunted expression Anna shoved up the sleeve of her sweatshirt to reveal the unmistakable mark of a vampire. “Cezar has mated me, which means that if I die, he will die.” Her eyes lifted to stab Morgana with a glare of pure determination. “Don’t think for a moment I won’t take you with us.”
Chapter 21
Cezar awoke to a world filled with searing pain, and the annoying feeling of someone frantically slapping his cheek.
The ravaging pain he couldn’t stop, but he’d be damned if he was going to be bitch-slapped while he was struggling to regain his wits.
With a swift motion he caught the pesky hand in a grip tight enough to make his assailant curse in pain.
“Shit, vampire, let go,” the familiar voice of Troy muttered close to his ear.
Cautiously opening his eyes, Cezar glanced around to discover he was stretched on a filthy wood-planked floor with the prince leaning over him. Not the way any vampire liked to wake up.
“Back off,” he growled, watching with a narrowed gaze as the imp sat back on his heels before loosening his grip.
“I didn’t think you were ever going to wake,” Troy groused, rubbing his bruised fingers.
Assured there were no prying eyes, Cezar forced himself to a sitting position, gritting his teeth against the wave of weakness that rolled through his body.
“I possess some resistance to silver, but I’m not impervious to it,” he gritted. “How long have I been out?”
“Nearly an hour.”
“An hour?” Hissing in anger, Cezar forced himself to his feet. He remembered being carried into the house by Troy and hearing the queen command that he be strung from the rafters. After that, everything was a searing blur. “Dios.”
Rising, Troy dusted off his ridiculous spandex pants. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. Your mate has only been here a short time.”
Ignoring his companion, Cezar closed his eyes and reached out with his thoughts. He was briefly surprised by the sheer number of demons that filled the house. Not only Styx and Jagr, but nearly a dozen fairies. With a grimace, he shifted his attention to Anna, easily finding her just below him.
“She’s with Morgana,” he hissed, turning toward the narrow door across the dark attic. “I must go to her.”
Ignoring his instinct for self-preservation, Troy moved to stand directly before Cezar.