“So, this is Avalon?” She returned her attention to Morgana, swallowing her revulsion at the malevolent hatred that shimmered in her aunt’s gaze. “Love what you’ve done to the place.”
The older woman hissed at Anna’s flippant tone. “You cannot hide your fear behind your pathetic attempt at humor. I can smell it on you.”
Anna shrugged. “Yeah, well, I have enough sense to be a little uneasy at being trapped on a hidden island with a certifiable lunatic who wants me dead.” She deliberately paused, suppressing the horrid sensation that she was toying with a caged tiger. “Or at least you keep claiming you want me dead. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re all talk and no action.”
The mist swirling outside the glass rotunda darkened, as if reacting to Morgana’s rising fury. Still, the woman made no effort to call on her powers.
“Are you in such a hurry to taste of death?” the queen demanded.
“There’s no use putting off the inevitable, is there?”
The emerald eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Actually, Anna Randal, my first thought was to allow my minions to put an end to you. You didn’t seem particularly worthy of bothering with, but after you were stupid enough to kill so many of my poor fairies I decided that I wanted to hear you beg before you died.”
“And that’s why I’m here?” Anna waved a hand around her golden prison. “Because you want to hear me beg?”
“Of course.”
“You’re lying.”
The words had barely left her lips when Anna found herself being launched into one of the marble columns. She cracked her head, and briefly saw stars, but fortunately her ribs were intact and there didn’t seem to be an inordinate number of internal injuries.
A sure sign that Morgana was still weak.
“That is but a taste of what I can do to you, worm,” she warned. “You still think that I’m lying?”
Anna tugged her sweatshirt back into place, refusing to rub the rising lump on the back of her head.
“Oh, it’s true that you tried to have your fairies kill me and when that didn’t work you tried to do it yourself, but failed.” She shrugged. “Actually you failed more than once. And now that you know that I have the emerald, I think you’re scared. You aren’t sure that you’re powerful enough to put me in my grave.”
Anna’s taunt was nothing more than a means to annoy the woman, but surprisingly Morgana’s gaze briefly shifted toward the gem clutched in Anna’s hand, an unmistakable flare of craving darkening her eyes.
She wanted the emerald.
She wanted it desperately.
So why didn’t she just take it?
Swiftly hiding her reaction behind a grating laugh, Morgana offhandedly waved her hand.
“Did my brother convince you that a mere bauble would actually harm me? How pathetically naïve you are,” she mocked. “Did he happen to mention that he was wearing the emerald when he died? That the reason he had it in his possession is because he was buried with it?”
Anna narrowed her gaze. “If it’s so worthless then why did you almost have a seizure when you saw it?” she demanded, instinct urging her to take a step forward with her hand outstretched. Astonishingly, Morgana shifted backward. The queen might long to possess the emerald, but for some reason she was frightened by it. “And why do you back away from it now?”
“It’s revolting. The magic it holds is tainted.”
Anna studied the magnificent jewel. “It doesn’t feel tainted.”
“And what would you know of ancient magic?” Morgana hissed, regaining her composure. “You are nothing more than a child who has foolishly convinced yourself that a bit of residual blood gives you true power.”
Anna gave a short, humorless laugh. “Well, it’s certainly true that I’m much younger than you, although I haven’t considered myself a child for a number of years. Not since you murdered the woman I believed to be my aunt and forced me to live alone in the shadows.”
Morgana frowned, as if surprised that Anna would even recall such a trivial event.
“That woman was nothing more than a pawn who was barely civil to you. You can’t have mourned her loss.”
“The two of you were the only relatives that I knew existed and, unlike you, I actually believe that means something,” Anna gritted. “Especially now that I understand what it means to be a part of a family.”
“You consider a clan of the walking dead as your family?” Morgana made a sound of disgust. “You are truly pathetic.”
Without warning, Anna felt a surge of warmth flood her heart. It wasn’t the strange heat of her elemental power, but it was power nonetheless. The power that Cezar had given to her when he had claimed her as his mate.
She would never again be alone.
Not even on this isolated isle. Cezar and his clan were with her.
And that knowledge gave her far more strength than any gem or ancient power.
Chapter 22
Tilting her chin, Anna wrapped herself in the unwavering comfort of Cezar’s bond. This golden palace with the swirling mist and priceless works of art might be impressive, but it was nothing more than a cold, empty prison. Just as all the countless homes that Anna had inhabited over the centuries had been hallow shells.
Did Morgana realize her loss? Had she ever felt true emotions?
“You know, Morgana, as much as I might hate you and what you’ve done, I still pity you.”
“Pity me?” Without warning, Morgana was moving forward, striking Anna across the face with enough force to split her lip. Obviously being pitied was more infuriating than being insulted. Go figure. “I have more than you could ever dream possible.”
“You have nothing,” Anna denied, determined to press the woman’s temper. A fine notion, supposing her powers decided to make a timely return. If not…well, she was shit out of luck. “You have no one who loves you, no one who cares. You’re completely alone and there’s not a creature on this earth who would mourn if you died. Actually, I don’t doubt that there would be a celebration on your grave. That’s…just sad.”
The next blow sent Anna to her knees. “Shut up,” Morgana hissed.
Pain ricocheted through Anna’s head, but along with it came the first stirring in her blood. Thank merciful heaven. She wasn’t doomed to fighting the magical queen with nothing more than a chunk of emerald and her bare hands.