He moved up over her once again and kissed her deeply. Her legs circled his hips, bringing the head of his cock in perfect alignment with her opening. With a thrust of his hips, he seated himself to the hilt on a low hiss of pleasure. His retreat dragged him across the sensitive nerves, and she tightened around him. A tingle at the base of his neck traveled like an electric current down his spine, through his tightening balls and up to his cock. A deep purr of desire came from Gwen as her hips rose up to meet him, and he lost it. His thrust and retreat quickened.
She gasped, tightening even harder around him as she came and all control snapped. He pumped once, twice, on the third he shuddered on a low groan as his world unraveled, then reshaped in a blinding pulse of ecstasy he never saw coming. His climax hit with the force of a semi, locking him in place as his muscles bunched and shuddered at the force of it. Hot jets pumped and pumped some more. By all the gods never had a climax hit him this hard.
He slowly pulled out and collapsed on his side, careful not to crush Gwen, and pulled her into his arms. The only sound in the room came from their harsh gasping breaths.
“Wow seems so inadequate, but…
wow
!”
He couldn’t help grinning like some fool teenager at her praise. Her dark lashes raised, and he found himself lost in the crystal blue depths of her gaze. His breath hitched as emotions crashed through him, giving him a moment of vertigo before they settled. One thought rose pure and clear among all the chaos going on around him. He loved her and somehow, someway he needed to get a second chance with her. To do it right this time and not fuck it up became all he could think of as
she
was the most important thing in his life, and he would do whatever it took to make sure she knew it.
The intrusive knock on the door broke the spell and, with a dark curse, he left the warmth of his woman, jerked on his discarded jeans and headed for the door.
Her urging him to hurry was the last thing he heard as a blast of red energy engulfed his body, lighting up his nerve endings with a blaze of agonized pain. From far off, he heard Gwen scream his name as he stared in horror at the face of his enemy.
Vance smirked as Arthur crumpled to the floor. “You lose again, asshole.”
Arthur tried to shout for Gwen to run, but nothing came out. A second blast of magic slammed into his chest. His body arched under the onslaught, muscle and bone locking tight as searing heat radiated from his chest out, burning through his veins. His vision grayed and he fought to keep conscious, to protect Gwen, but the darkness wrapped around him like a shroud pulling him down until nothing but blackness remained.
Chapter Thirteen
Merci looked at her watch for what felt like the thousandth time and cursed under her breath. Sitting at the coffee shop, she squirmed, wanting to pace, fight, do
fucking anything
, but sit like a log gathering moss.
Drake covered her hand with his, and the nerves settled. She gave him a grateful glance, and her heart stopped. Gods, he could turn her insides to butter with just a glance. And the heated gaze through heavy lidded eyes said he wanted to get her alone and naked. A shiver of expectation worked its way down her spine, and her nipples hardened at the thought. His hand slipped from hers, traveling down from her arm to the slight bulge of her belly where the life they brought into this world grew.
“Seems we’ve gone full circle.” He smiled and, dear goddess above, he looked so devastatingly handsome she could only stare in awe for a moment. So much happened over the past…could it have been just weeks, a month? And here, at this particular place, Camelot on the Las Vegas strip is where they met, fought Nimue.
Where she almost died so she really understood the full-circle thing.
Only this time the fight would be greater, more at risk. This time they would either save the world or plunge it into a bigger mess than anyone could ever imagine.
“This time we have help.” She nodded, looking at the group around the table. All of them loyal, ready to stand with Arthur for the final confrontation.
Neil Calder with his military buzz cut and piercing navy blue eyes sat with arms on the table, his muscular biceps bulged tight against the dark blue tee shirt. The guy was big all over, attesting to the many hours he worked at the installments forge making everything from bullets to knives for Arthur’s men. A heavy chain hung from the thick column of his throat with a simple band of gold looped through the chain. Testament to the deceit he suffered by the hand of the first woman he loved as Sir Bors.
Andrea Calder his wife snuggled up to his side, her dark hair in a stylish bob and sharp slate grey eyes missed very little. Their computer and all things tech guru, the two made an odd pair, yet it worked for them.
Merci’s violet eyes rested on Colin and Juliet, and a small smile lifted her lips. Colin, always the most volatile of the group, changed little from his time when he was Sir Kay. His green eyes glittered, ready for the coming battle. The Irish shape changer and his Druidic mate Juliet made one hell of an opposing force and both went through hell as Vance’s prisoners only two weeks ago.
Viviane and Lancelot huddled together, heads close and hands touching. It didn’t take a mind reader to know what those two were talking about in low hushed voices. She smirked at the two lovebirds. She should have seen that one coming. All the signs were there going back to when Merci found herself on the healing end of Viviane’s magic. One couldn’t use the kind of magic it took to pull Merci from the brink of death and not get a link to what went on in the magic user’s head. She knew of Vivian’s deep love for Lancelot and kept it to herself. After all, it was no one’s business.
Then there sat Simon, Darius and their newest and most unexpected addition Rhea and that rounded out the group. She still didn’t have a bead on the woman who just popped in declaring she only wanted to help defeat her sister’s rebirth.
Merci frowned, not quite trusting her, but then she tended toward being the bitch who made life hell until you proved yourself.
Yeah, she could live with that.
What she couldn’t live with though was this gods dammed waiting!
Sensing her increasing frustration, Drake leaned into her, his warm breath fanning over her ear. “Let’s give Arthur ten more minutes. If he isn’t here by then as planned, we go up and embarrass his ass.”
“He’s had two hours. I think that would be enough time to hammer things out between them, don’t you think?”
“Uh, not if they end up having make up sex.” He flashed a slow grin, mischief lighting his blue-green eyes. “After all, they have several centuries to make up for.” Colin’s chuckle ended in an ooff as Juliet elbowed him in the ribs.
“You are
so
not right. You know that, don’t you?” Juliet glared, but amusement shimmered in the blue depths of her gaze.
“Colin has never been alright. We think his mom must have dropped him on his head a few times,” Simon chimed in.
“Yeah, either that or the gods forgot to give him a filter before he was born. Everything goes from his brain to his mouth without thinking of what he is saying,” Darius added with a wink at Rhea, who grinned.
“Hey, what is this, pick on Colin day?”
“Yes,” the whole table said in unison.
The sound of laughter covered Merci in a warm cocoon of contentment. She loved every one of these men and their women, would die to protect them as they would for her. Love deep and lasting filled every empty crevice inside her for this right here at this moment brought home how much they all mattered to her. They were family.
Drake’s hand on her shoulder yanked her from her musings. “Time to check on Arthur, you all wait here, we will be right back.”
“You sure you don’t need back up? Vance is a squirrely bastard.” Neill leveled them one of his famous glowers.
That would have made anyone a bit uneasy, except for Drake, who only grinned. “Thanks, buddy, didn’t know you cared.”
“Just can it, both of you. The quicker they get to Arthur the easier it will be on all of us. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m not a very patient person,” Andrea cut in.
As Merci cut through the crowded coffee shop and walked out into an equally packed casino floor, she made her way to the west tower with Drake following behind. His magic hummed pleasantly on the back of her neck, and she relaxed a fraction. Focusing a locating spell, they grabbed the elevators, taking it to the sixth floor.
Drake cursed under his breath as Merci stopped abruptly in the hall, her eyes narrowed as dread pulsed just underneath her skin and, by Drake’s growl, she knew he picked up on the
wrongness
surrounding them. The air felt oily and thick with perverted magic. Merci gave an involuntary shudder as it crawled over her skin. The retched odor of decay burned her nose and clogged her throat. A quick glance at Drake told her he felt it. The fact it grew heavier the closer they got to Gwen’s room didn’t fill her with hope.
Drake stepped protectively in front of her and swiped his hand over the door lock. A mechanical snick of the lock filled the heavy silence of the hallway as the door swung open.
Merci fought the bile rising in her throat as her stomach gave a sudden lurch from so much perverse power. Taking shallow breaths, her dread became a living thing as she saw the black burn marks on the floor and the rumpled bed, worse the room was empty.
“That son of a bitch!” Drake roared, white-hot sparks of magic flared off him in waves as he checked every door in the room and came back with a big fat nothing. “They’re gone, not even a trace to follow.”
As Merci pulled her cell phone out of her pocket with a shaky hand, she faced the reality that Vance could very well win the war.
* * * *
Blinding pain seared through Darius’s corneas with such force he knew his head would explode. Dimly, through a thick fog, he heard the shrill ring of a cell phone. Voices filled with so much anger and one voice rose above all others. Simon. His lifeline to hold the vision at bay just a while longer, enough time to get his ass to a bed before he succumbed to his gods damned cursed gift.
He felt someone grab him under an arm and lift him to his feet.
Bad fucking idea.
Bursts of lights flared behind his eyes in a swirling kaleidoscope made by an insane artist, as the colors blurred to white and took him down the rabbit hole once again.
He stood in a nearly deserted arena the dirt at his feet softened his footsteps as he approached the center and the horror unfolding before him. As always, he couldn’t effect any change of the vision, forced to watch it play out.
Worse, the more he fought to change it, the sicker he would be when he came out of it, so he stood and watched, a ghost bearing silent witness to the grisly scene unfolding before him.
He moved closer, propelled by the drama playing out. Gwen struggled against the heavy chains securing her firmly to a wooden pole.
Arthur lay on his side, away from her, his arms and feet tied and unmoving. Nimue, also bound, huddled off to the side balled up into a fetal position. Darius couldn’t help but feel a wave of pity for the woman who once was a powerful enemy of Drake’s.
Vance appeared from a set of arched doors, a large brass urn lovingly cradled in his arms. “So good of you to come celebrate Morgan le Fey’s re-birth.” He laughed with an edge of madness as he gently sat the urn down near Gwen’s bound feet.
His gaze was filled with hatred as he looked upon Arthur and, with a vicious snarl, kicked him.
Darius screamed at Vance to stop, knowing it would be futile, yet the anger seething up from somewhere deep inside would not be overruled. He launched himself at Vance…and went
through
him.
Vance never paused in his attack. Arthur’s groans of pain urged him on as he continued to rein blows on his body. Gwen screamed, hurtling curses as she struggled against the chains. With the grace of a dancer, he whirled toward her, backhanding her with so much force her head snapped back with a resounding thud as she made contact with the pole. Blood dripped from her split lip, and her eyes glazed with pain.
“Someone gag the bitch,” he snapped. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he gave it a vicious tug, nearly breaking her neck in the process. “Those were the last words you will ever utter.”
While one of his men gagged Gwen, Vance turned his attention back to Arthur, gripping the rope’s binding his hands, he hauled him up to his feet.
Darius flinched at the realization he could only stand by and watch, a powerless witness to the sadistic cruelty Vance meted out. He may not be able to stop him, but he damn well could memorize his surroundings and figure out where the hell they were.
They still had time.
Darius came to on a scream, flailing against the hands holding him down. Panic seized him as he bucked against the restraining pressure. His mind was a seething mass of panic, anger, and the impulse to get free…to get to Arthur before… His vision cleared enough for him to make out two familiar faces above him. Rhea, her eyes filled with a concern and mirrored by those of another, icy blue gaze.
“Simon,” he rasped out, feeling as if he gargled with razor blades. “I’m fine, you can get off of me now. How long have I been out?”