Ridiculous poof.
Impatiently awaiting the portal to appear, Cezar was caught off-guard when Troy abruptly reached back and grasped his wrist in a tight grip.
“Careful, imp,” he hissed.
“The more strongly I have the sense of you, the easier it will be to locate Anna,” Troy retorted, his eyes trained straight ahead. “Besides, a vampire can’t travel through a magical source unless he is connected to a fey. You’re nothing more than a passenger on this ride.”
Styx abruptly moved to Cezar’s side, growling deep in his throat. “Cezar, take care. I do not trust this fey. It could be a trap.”
“Don’t worry, Styx.” With a swift movement he turned his hand, taking command of the imp’s grip with a painful squeeze. “Troy knows what will happen if he disappoints me.”
Giving a squawk of pain, Troy glared at Cezar over his shoulder. “I really, really hate vampires.”
“Not as much as you’re going to if you fail me,” Cezar warned.
Muttering under his breath, Troy lifted his free hand and the shimmer of a portal began to form. Instinctively the vampires backed away, their distaste for magic clearly etched on their faces.
Cezar didn’t so much as flinch. It was going to take a hell of a lot more than magic to keep him away from Anna.
Coiled and prepared to strike, Cezar waited as Troy closed his eyes and did whatever it was the fey did to reach out and sense others. His muscles were trembling by the time Troy sucked in a sharp breath and stiffened in fear.
“Damn my luck,” he muttered. “I found her.”
Cezar didn’t allow himself to feel relief. Not yet. Not until Anna was away from Avalon and Morgana was dead. “Let’s go.”
Troy hesitated for a heartbeat before he muttered another foul curse and stepped into the portal, dragging Cezar in his wake.
In the blink of an eye the kitchen dissolved, to be replaced by an impenetrable blackness. He’d heard that most portal travelers saw flashing lights and experienced electrical charges that pulsed over their skin but as a vampire he could sense nothing. That didn’t mean he enjoyed the trip. Actually he’d rather have his fangs pulled than plunge himself in the middle of so much magic.
Keeping a crushing grip on Troy, Cezar closed his mind to the disturbing mode of transportation and instead concentrated on his bond with Anna. Soon, he soothed his ravaged nerves. Soon he would be at her side and he would destroy anyone or anything that was trying to harm her.
In the end it was soon, although it seemed like an eternity. Troy led him out of the portal and into a vast, marble room that was in the process of falling in on their heads.
“Shit,” Troy breathed as he was hit by a flying piece of marble. “This doesn’t look right.”
Cezar ignored the debris that battered his body, his senses leaping with stark relief at the unmistakable sense of Anna.
“She’s here.” He swiftly scanned the room, seeking his mate among the piles of rubble. “Anna!” he shouted, moving forward without concern for the dangers that might be hidden. He would deal with anything that sought to keep him from his woman.
“Damn, it looks like World War Three just arrived,” Troy muttered, grimacing at the layer of powdered marble that was coating his spandex pants. He cowardly remained close to the portal he had left open for a quick escape. “Where’s Morgana?”
Ignoring the pest, Cezar stiffened in fear as he caught sight of the slender body lying in a broken heap near the ornate throne.
“Anna,” he rasped, flowing swiftly to her side and bending next to her. With exquisite care he gathered her off the floor and held her tightly cradled against his chest. His heart twisted with pain. She was alive, but she was gravely wounded.
Clearly sensing his presence, Anna struggled to lift her lashes and regarded him in dazed confusion.
“Cezar? Is that really you?” she whispered.
He bent his head to press his lips to her forehead. “Si. It’s really me,” he assured her softly, a sharp fear piercing his heart as he felt her violent tremble. Damn, she must be convulsing. Pulling back, he regarded her with a concern that rapidly shifted to disbelief. Dios. Was she laughing? “What’s so funny?” he demanded.
Her smile lingered despite the tears that were streaming down her filthy face. “I saw the portal and I thought…”
“What? What did you think?”
“‘Beam me up, Scotty.’”
Chapter 23
Anna was vaguely aware of Cezar holding her tight as he spoke in a low, rough voice to someone else in the room. His touch seeped into her aching body, easing the agonizing pain that still wracked her. Even more, it battled back the lingering memory of Morgana’s screams that continued to echo in her ears.
But the weakness that she had ignored for too long held her in its grip and, snuggling against Cezar’s welcome strength, she allowed herself to sink into her weariness, trusting that Cezar would keep her safe.
It was done. Over.Surely she had earned a few minutes of rest?
She stirred briefly as she felt the unpleasant prickles of a portal surround her. It was hard to ignore the sensation of lightning dancing over her skin. But still held tightly in Cezar’s arms, she didn’t attempt to fight the clinging darkness.
There was something waiting for her there.
She had sensed the presence from the moment the explosion had consumed Morgana and tossed her across the room. It had whispered in the back of her mind, although it seemed to realize she couldn’t respond so long as she was alone and defenseless in Avalon.
Now that Cezar was carrying her to safety, however, the voice became more insistent, pulling her deeper and deeper into the dark void.
Trusting completely in her mate’s ability to fight off any danger, Anna allowed herself to be swept through the strange swirl of black mist, not at all surprised when she found herself standing in the ruined castle on the cliff. Her family seemed to have missed that whole concept of picking up a telephone and politely inviting someone to visit. They seemed to prefer the snatching-a-person-from-wherever-they-might-be-and-forcing-them-to-appear route.
As before, she could hear the crash of waves from below and smell the faint hint of sage that filled the motionless air. Reaching out, Anna allowed her hand to touch the nearest wall, her fingertips registering the rough dampness of the ancient stone.
It was so astonishingly real.
With a shake of her head, Anna slowly turned, her heart clenching with bittersweet happiness at the sight of the large wolf stepping through the arched doorway. Okay, maybe she was pathetic to find pleasure in visiting with her long dead grandfather. But by God, she’d spent two hundred years desperately alone. She was going to enjoy her time with Arthur, ghost or not.
Well, she was going to enjoy her time with Arthur just as soon as she got a few answers, she decided, as the strange mist swirled about the wolf and it shifted to the form of a large man in heavy armor.
It was impossible to determine his features, but in her mind she sensed the strong, craggy face and green eyes that held a mixture of fondness and ancient regret.
“Anna,” he intoned with a formal dip of his head that held an unspoken respect.
Lifting her chin, Anna extended her hand that held the glowing emerald.
“Tell me what I’ve done,” she demanded without preamble.
She sensed his bewilderment. “Done?”
“Is Morgana dead?”
The mist stirred, the air suddenly cold enough to make Anna shiver.
“No, she is very much alive.”
Anna grimaced. Deep in her heart that was precisely what she had feared.
“My God.” She barely resisted the urge to toss the emerald on the dirt floor. “Then she’s trapped in there?”
“Her spirit is now contained within the gem.”
Anna didn’t miss the dark satisfaction in his voice. Obviously Arthur wasn’t quite as queasy as she was at the thought of trapping a living being in a chunk of stone.
Of course, he’d had a lot of centuries to wait for this day. That might warp anyone’s sense of compassion.
“Is she in pain?” Anna demanded.
There was an impression of an indifferent shrug. “Only the pain of her frustration. In spirit form she has no mortal discomforts.”
“Can she escape?”
“Only if you decide to release her.”
Jeez. Like she didn’t feel bad enough. Now she had to live with the knowledge that every day that passed she was responsible for holding the woman captive.
“Great,” she muttered.
“You would prefer that Morgana was dead?”
“I don’t know.” Anna gave a restless shrug. “It just seems such an awful fate.”
“It is a fate far more kind than that Morgana le Fay offered to her many victims,” Arthur growled. “She was fortunate that it was you who was destined to be her final judge.”
Anna shuddered as she remembered Morgana’s shrieks as she was pulled into the power of the emerald. The woman probably didn’t consider herself rolling in good fortune.
At the moment, however, there didn’t seem much purpose in debating the matter, and instead Anna turned her thoughts to the question that had nagged at her since her confrontation with Morgana.