THE jealousy that flooded Galahad as he watched Soren kiss Caroline took him completely by surprise. It intensified when she sagged into the dragon’s arms. Galahad knew her reaction was probably from whatever spell transfer Soren was doing, but his inner Neanderthal growled. It was all he could do not to stalk over there and make lizard pâté out of his friend.
Which, considering Soren’s true form, said something about just how stupid his inner Neanderthal really was.
He’d never been this jealous of Morgana.
But just before Galahad’s common sense went down for the count, Soren lifted his head and set Caroline back on her feet. She looked dazed, which only added fuel to the fire. The dragon gave him a toothy smile. “Lucky mammal.”
“What the hell was that all about?” Galahad exploded. He knew he sounded like an idiot, but he didn’t care.
Soren shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s the only chance I’m going to get to kiss the bride.”
“You…” Galahad’s mind belatedly processed what his friend just said. “What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?”
Obviously enjoying his reaction, the dragon folded his arms. “You do know you’re going to Truebond with this girl?”
He snorted. “You’ve been flying too high, Soren. That reptile brain is oxygen-deprived.”
Caroline blinked, as though trying to shake off whatever Soren had done to her. “Truebond? What’s a Truebond?”
“The Magekind version of marriage.” A vast oversimplification, but it would have to do for now.
Caroline’s jaw dropped in a gape. Even that looked good on her. “That’s ridiculous. We haven’t known each other twenty-four hours!”
“With a Truebond, that hardly matters.” Amusement shone in the dragon’s iridescent eyes. “You’ll tap one another’s memories, emotions, thoughts. You’ll know one another better than if you’d been married a century.”
“It’s a mind-fusion,” Galahad explained, glaring at his friend. The idea of exposing Caroline’s bright innocence to his sixteen hundred years of corruption was repellent. It would destroy her. Hell, sometimes he thought it was destroying him. “And no way in hell are we doing it.”
The dragon ignored him, looking into her eyes. “He’ll be your conduit, Caroline. You’ll free each other.”
“I said forget it!” Galahad snapped. “I don’t care what vision you had, it’s not going to happen.”
The dragon looked over at him in that infuriating way he had: wise, amused, tolerant of the hapless mammal’s foibles. “Of course not.” He gave Caroline a smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you, my sweet.”
As Soren turned and started toward the edge, Caroline stopped him. “Wait. The Truebond thing. What else did you see?”
He smiled wickedly. “This and that.” Before she could stop him again, he turned and leaped in a hard, long dive right off the edge. Caroline gasped as he disappeared, but an instant later, he shot past in dragon form, headed skyward, his massive wings beating.
She turned on Galahad, bristling. “Did you have to be such a jerk? I might have gotten some more out of him if you hadn’t run him off.”
He snorted. “Nobody gets anything out of Soren he doesn’t want to give.”
She stalked to the edge and looked up as if she were considering flying after the dragon. “Well, I’d still like to ask him when we’re supposed to do this Truebond thing.”
“We’re not Truebonding,” he gritted. “You have no idea what’s involved, and believe me, you don’t want to find out.”
“Well, it sounds to me like we’re not going to get a whole lot of choice.”
“First off, visions have been known to be wrong. Second, Soren isn’t above lying when it suits whatever game he’s playing. Third, for all you know, if we do Truebond, it won’t be for a couple of centuries. Either way, it ain’t happening anytime soon.”
Caroline glared at him. Even in his current enraged mood, he could see she was hurt. “Suits me just fine. I don’t even know you.” Whirling, she flounced off up the stairs toward the bedroom.
Galahad watched her go as irritation poured through him. Along with a healthy dose of fear.
Was the dragon right?
Merlin’s Cup, he hoped not. He’d been around long enough to know they had the beginning of something good, something he’d never encountered in all his centuries seducing Majae. There was a warmth about Caroline he rarely saw in Magekind women, an honesty and lack of calculation. And, of course, there was that innocent sensuality.
Too often Majae seemed barricaded behind ennui, wariness or cynicism until almost nothing he did could reach them. But Caroline was so deliciously open, her uninhibited reactions aroused him as much as her pretty body did.
He wanted more time with her. He wanted to nurture and protect the fragile seed between them, watch it grow. It was going to be marvelous.
But only if she wasn’t destroyed by a Truebond.
WELL, that had been pretty damn plain. Galahad wanted nothing whatsoever to do with a permanent relationship with her. After all his talk about being nothing like Dominic, he was cut from the same cloth after all.
The trick now was to maintain a strictly business relationship until they got Geirolf’s little cult taken care of. She’d keep her distance and stay out of his bed, and…
“Caroline,” Galahad said from behind her.
She straightened her shoulders, wiped the hurt from her face, and turned, determined to keep this light. “What can I do for…?”
He snatched her into his arms, and his mouth came down on hers, hungry and devouring. Caroline stiffened instinctively, but he didn’t let her go.
Oh, she thought, he’s going to be a pain in the ass.
9
OVER the next three days, Caroline discovered how right she was. She never found out if Galahad would take “no” for an answer; he made it impossible for her to get the word out of her mouth.
His centuries had taught him things to do to a woman’s body that lit Caroline’s up like the Eiffel Tower on New Year’s Eve. He wove wicked spells with his mouth and his tongue and his big, hard hands that put to shame anything she could do with her magic. He whispered velvet threats that made her knees go weak, then carried every one of them out—bending her over, spreading her wide, pinning her against the nearest wall. All so he could work his thick erection slowly into her tight flesh, sink his fangs into her throat. And take her, over and over.
Those damn vampires didn’t help. She’d set wards on the complex—a kind of magical burglar alarm, designed so that nobody but Caroline could sense them when they activated. But they never went off, and the vampires never came back. She kept checking, but the place remained empty of all but its ghosts.
While Galahad’s home was full of him.
She knew he was after something. This felt almost like a feral kind of courtship, as if he were staking his claim on her.
Gaining possession.
But he’d said he didn’t want her in terms that left no room for romantic illusions. So what the hell kind of game was he playing? And what should she do about it?
Because he was definitely getting to her—and not just with the impressive sex. Hot as he was, that wouldn’t have done such a good job of chipping away at her mental barriers.
No, what got her the most was the lazy, drifting time just after he’d taken her and just before sunrise, when they lay in bed together watching the dragons play. That was when he’d tell her about the places he’d been, the times he’d seen, the amazing events he’d witnessed. Hearing the reality behind the legend never failed to enthrall her. It quickly became hard to remember why she needed to keep her distance.
Sunset on the fourth day found them nicely settled into their routine. She sat in bed polishing off a breakfast steak under Galahad’s watchful eye—he said she needed the protein—while he did his evening sword exercises.
Chewing a piece of sinfully tender filet mignon, she watched him par
ry invisible attacks, sword flashing, his big, naked body moving with a dancer’s grace.
The psychic buzz of her wards activating made her sit up an instant before the vision fell on her like an anvil.
Four of them held the naked girl spread across the altar. Over them stood a blond woman who held a snaking knife in one hand and the grail in the other. The blonde’s face was twisted with savage anticipation that matched the black eagerness in the eyes of her followers. Caroline could feel their hunger to see blood spill. She froze, a scream clawing at her throat, unable to move or think as the poisonous images poured into her consciousness.
Then it was over, and the vision’s hold snapped. Caroline flung herself out of bed so fast she fell on the floor. “Galahad!” Sick horror clawed at her as she scrambled to her feet, but she had no time for emotion now. “They’re back!”
He stopped and lowered his sword. “The cultists?”
“Yeah. They’ve captured somebody. They’re getting ready to sacrifice her on that damned altar.”
His handsome face went cold. “Armor us up and open a gate. Let’s see what’s going on.”
A gesture called their mail around them. Then carefully, she opened a gate just large enough to give them a view of the sacrificial chamber.
Just as her vision had predicted. Four cultists held the naked girl across the altar as the blond priestess lifted her knife. Galahad cursed softly. “I don’t like this, but it doesn’t look like we’ve got time to play it safe.”
“I don’t need much time,” Caroline reminded him in a low voice. “Soren gave me that spell, remember? Keep them from killing the girl, and I’ll do the rest. It’ll take me sixty seconds, tops, to do the chant.”
“Can you do it from here?”
She hesitated, her eyes locked on the struggling girl. “I don’t think the gate could handle the energy flow.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Galahad drew his sword and prepared to leap. “Sixty seconds is all you get, Caroline. If you can’t pull it off, they’re going to be all over us.”
She took a deep breath and expanded the gate to full size.
The girl screamed and bucked in her captors’ hands as the blond female priest drew the point of the knife down her chest, just barely drawing blood.
“Go.” Galahad growled.
Taking a deep, desperate breath, Caroline charged through the gate, aware even as she leaped that he had plunged in after her.
She emerged into Realspace at a dead run, Galahad roaring his war-cry at her heels. The vampires jerked toward them. Carline’s full attention locked on the grail, she started chanting the first words of Soren’s spell.
Black triumph flashed over the priestess’s face. “Yes!” The blonde bared her teeth, threw the knife aside, and conjured a power blast.
Shit, the cultists had been expecting them. Caroline had to break off the chant to call a shield.
But even as the priestess’s blast bounced off her magical barrier, something hit her hard from behind in a magical assault that sent agony slicing into her skull.
Galahad bellowed.
Caroline spun, ready to defend herself, but Galahad was already charging the three armored vampires who’d hit her from behind. She started to send a blast toward the nearest of them, but another spell hit her like a fastball pitch to the skull. The world pinwheeled as she went flying.
Caroline hit the stone floor with a teeth-rattling jolt. Struggling to rise, she lifted her head to see a ring of vampires closing in on her. Their hands glowed and smoked with magic. Desperately, she turned to look for the grail. If she could just hit it…
But even as she spotted the gleam of gold in the priestess’s hand, the cultists opened fire.
GALAHAD saw Caroline go down under a hail of power blasts and roared a denial. Surrounded by vampire warriors, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to save her. Fear clutched at his chest with burning fists. He sent the nearest bastard’s head flying with a single stroke of his sword and lunged toward her. Sensing something else coming toward him, he thrust his sword up in a parry. His frenzy gave him strength, and he knocked the vampire’s blade aside, then buried his own in the man’s chest so hard his victim’s feet left the ground. Jerking his sword free, he ducked, avoiding another vampire’s wild swing.
But there were just too damn many of them, and he knew it. At least thirty armored vampire warriors had gated in behind them the minute he and Caroline had entered. Even he wasn’t good enough to take them all.
They’d been royally suckered.
Somebody dove for his legs. Galahad dodged aside, but a second warrior slammed into his hips, knocking him hard to the ground. He tried to roll away, swinging and kicking, but two of them landed on top of him. “That’s it, fucker, you’re done!” somebody sneered.
“I’m going to rip out your hearts, you whoreson bastards!” he roared, but then more of them piled on, crushing the air from his lungs. Brutal fingers clamped over his sword arm while others grabbed his left wrist. He felt his helmet being pulled off, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. The steel rim raked the side of his face with a vicious sting. Hot blood rolled. He managed to choke in a breath. It smelled of old blood and rank bodies.
A female hand reached in and wrapped around his face. Before he could sink his fangs into her palm, she shot a blast into his head. Fire ripped along his nerves and the world went white.
GALAHAD came to naked, hanging in midair. Caroline was cursing steadily, viciously. For a moment, he felt a spurt of joy that she was still alive.
Then he opened his eyes and sucked in a breath.
She’d taken the girl’s place on the altar. They’d stripped her of her armor—and apparently her powers, because one of the bastards was fondling her breast, and she hadn’t fried him.
But she badly wanted to. That was evident from the rage and terror ringing in her voice. “Get your stinking hands off me!”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” The blond woman smirked down at her as the other vampires laughed. She held Geirolf’s Grail in one hand and a dagger in the other.
“You’ve got very pretty tits, witch.” She hefted the knife, grinning. “At least for the moment.”
Furiously, Galahad fought the spell holding him, but he couldn’t move at all. He knew they’d left him alive only so he could take Caroline’s place on the altar when they’d finished with her.
The original victim lay bound and gagged on the floor off to one side. Evidently they were saving her for dessert.
The priestess bent over Caroline with the knife, crooning obscene threats the way another woman might promise pleasures to a lover.
Galahad’s desperate, bitter gaze fastened on the grail. They’d been so damn close. If only she’d been able to complete Soren’s spell. Hell, if only he could work magic…
He’ll be your conduit.
Galahad jerked in his bonds, remembering Soren’s prediction that they’d Truebond. That’s it! Hope shot through his chest.
The cultists knew Magi couldn’t work magic, so logically they hadn’t bothered to place a nullification spell on Galahad. If he Truebonded with Caroline, she’d be able to send the spell through the link with him.
It could work. Soren had implied it would work.
But…a chill stole over him as he thought of what contact with his mind might do to Caroline. It could destroy her as thoroughly as the witch’s knife.
But what choice did they have? If there was any chance at all, they had to take it. He’d simply have to protect her somehow.
Assuming, that is, they could form the bond. It would be easier if Galahad had been the one to change her into a maja, but since he hadn’t been, he’d need some other way to reach her.
Closing his eyes, Galahad sought inside himself, searching his mind for some trace of her.
“Arrhhh! Bitch!” Caroline screamed.
He flinched. Running out of time…
Don’t think about that.
Carol
ine. Caroline arching beneath him, her eyes vague with the hot pleasure of her rising orgasm. The scent of her, pure femininity, the taste of her mouth, of her sex. Her wicked sense of humor. The terrified courage on her white face as she’d prepared to jump through that gate.
Caroline.
There she was—a delicate, ghostly presence in his mind. A fragile link, formed unconsciously when they’d made love.
That had better be enough.
Concentrating hard, Galahad sent his mind flying out along it, reaching desperately for her. He hit some kind of resistance—the blanking spell—but he forced his way through.
Contact.
When he opened his eyes, a ring of fanged faces grinned down at him, gloating lust in their eyes. Sick terror gripped his soul, mixed with a woman’s helpless vulnerability. He could feel the pain of cuts slashing across Caroline’s sensitive breasts. They’re going to kill me, she thought in horrified despair. They’re going to torture me to death and kill me…
Galahad sent his thoughts into the swirling terror that held her. Caroline!
Galahad! How did you…? What are you doing?
We’ve got to Truebond, Caroline. If we bond, you can send the spell through me.
I can’t! They’ve taken my magic! Galahad, they’re going to kill me!
Despite his own fear, he sent a wave of calm authority along the link. No, no, listen. Nobody can take your magic, they only put a dampening spell on you. But there’s no spell on me. If we Truebond…
I can send the spell through you! Oh, God. We’ve got to do it now! She gasped as the knife raked over her flesh again. The cut was shallow, but the sting was vicious and terrifying. Jesus, Galahad!
Reach for me, Caroline!
The link snapped into place with an almost audible click.
THE touch of Galahad’s mind was like standing on the edge of Niagra Falls—a great, pounding mental presence, ancient and profoundly alien. Come to me, he whispered in her thoughts. The Truebond alone isn’t enough. You’ve got to be within my mind to work the spell.