Styx gave a lift of his brows. “They actually came to the room?”

“After they had made sure that they had put Anna into a deep sleep.”

“So that’s why you were forced to serve them.”

It was certainly what Cezar had believed for the past two centuries. And the Oracles had done nothing to disabuse him of that belief.

But the moment that Anna had walked into that Chicago hotel, he had been drowning in his awareness of her. His every sense had been tuned to her as if she were the only woman in the whole damn world.

“I’m beginning to suspect that there was more to it than that,” he muttered.

Styx regarded him with a lift of his brows. “Such as?”

“There are some things I refuse to discuss even with you, my lord.”

A smile that was almost smug touched the vampire’s mouth. “Ah.”

Cezar frowned, fiercely refusing to consider what might be behind his friend’s amusement.

It couldn’t be good.

Instead he turned his mind to more important matters. “It was not just that night that Anna spoke of her cousin,” he said, once again cursing his stupidity.

“What else did she say?”

“That after our night together she returned home to find it burned to the ground. She assumed her aunt and cousin died in the flames. She was no doubt right about her aunt.”

“The work of Morgana?”

A sharp, biting fury raced through Cezar at the realization that he had come so close to losing Anna. He would kill anyone who threatened her.

Even the Queen of Fairies.

“She couldn’t have known that dutiful Anna was locked in a magical sleep in another house, rather than sleeping in her own bed,” he bit out, his fangs fully extended. “It was the first attempt on Anna’s life.”

Styx gave a slow nod. “The queen must have believed her dead.”

“Until Anna’s powers began to surface. Once the queen sensed them she sent out word to her fairies to search for the one who possessed the blood of the ancients.”

“Blood of the ancients.” Styx furrowed his brows, his gaze shifting toward his vast collection of books. “I thought Morgana to be the last of the line?”

Cezar shrugged. “So did I.”

“You think it is true that they’re related?”

“They must be in some way.”

“And now she is destined to be an Oracle.” Styx returned his attention to Cezar, his dark gaze smoldering with his lethal power. “Intriguing.”

“Not intriguing, dangerous,” Cezar corrected. He recognized that expression on his friend’s face. It usually preceded the vampire calling his brothers to battle. And while Cezar was all for the Bitch of Fairies being butchered, preferably while he watched, he needed answers first. Otherwise he couldn’t be certain that the threat to Anna would die with the queen. “I don’t know what Morgana le Fay wants of Anna, but I intend to find out. Once we know we can invite her to a little family reunion.”

Styx slowly smiled. “I vote we make it a barbeque.”

Chapter 5

The mists of Avalon were no myth.

The magical shield stretched for miles around the island, keeping it hidden from human eyes and protecting it from the intrusion of demons.

No one was allowed on the island unless they had been invited by the queen. And those foolish enough to try to slip past her barriers swiftly learned a lesson in displeasing Morgana le Fay. A lesson that few ever repeated.

Mostly because they were dead.

On this day the mists were a dark, threatening gray, reflecting the mood of Morgana as she paced the velvet carpet of her throne room.

It was a chokingly impressive room with a glass rotunda and delicate tapestries on the wall that would make a human craftsman cry with envy. Just below the rotunda was a round dais with a golden throne. And on each side of the throne stood two male fairies.

They were…perfect.

Perfectly matched with long blond hair that fell to their waists and features carved by the hands of an angel. Perfectly naked, to reveal their muscular forms. Perfectly trained not to reveal the least emotion without permission.

Perfectly perfect.

Morgana demanded no less.

Not that she bothered to glance in their direction. Instead she continued her pacing, the sheer white gown fluttering around her tall, slender body and her magnificent mane of red curls shimmering in the candlelight. It was not until she sensed the approaching fairy that she forced herself to return to her throne and take her seat.

She appeared calmly composed, her lovely features unreadable and her green eyes shielded by the tangled lace of her lashes. Her expression didn’t change as the tall, unusually brawny man with curly black hair and blue eyes entered the chambers.

He was a stunning creature. And a magnificent lover.

A pity he had proven a disappointment.

Watching in silence she waited for the fairy to fall to his knees at her feet and press his head to the carpet.

“You sent for me, Your Majesty?”

She ignored the voice he had trained to send shivers down her spine. Her long nails, painted a deep shade of crimson, tapped on the gilt arm of her chair.

“Have you been avoiding me, Landes?” she demanded softly.

His head lifted to regard her with a wary gaze. “No, I ache to be bathed in your beauty. I tremble with the need to worship at your feet.”

“Pretty, but not what I want to hear.” She leaned forward. “Don’t you remember, my sweet, that I was to be told the moment you made contact with Sybil?”

He paled beneath her unwavering gaze. “Y…yes.”

“Then why have you kept me waiting?”

“There have been difficulties, my Queen.”

Morgana resisted the urge to kick the man in the face. Damn the fool. She didn’t want his pathetic excuses. She wanted results.

“What could possibly be difficult in such a simple task?” she demanded, the mist above the rotunda swirling in the gathering storm.

Landes cast a nervous glance upward before swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Sybil has not responded to my summons.”

“You opened a portal?”

“Of course, Your Majesty, but there is something that is blocking my efforts.”

“Something?”

“I don’t know what it is.” He lifted his hands, his expression pleading. “It’s like a fog that I can’t penetrate.”

Dark fury raced through Morgana’s blood as she slowly rose from the throne. She had devoted centuries to ending her brother’s bloodline. To making sure that each and every one of her enemies lay dead on the ground.

And for a brief time, she had been certain she had succeeded. Two hundred years ago she had killed Anna Randal, the last of the damnable clan. She was at last free of her destiny.

But somehow, some way she had missed one.

There was no mistaking the growing powers she could sense. Powers that should have been erased from the world.

Her fear had returned and she had sent out word to the fairies. Two days ago she had received word from Sybil that she had found the one Morgana searched for. She had also promised to bring the woman to Avalon.

She had never arrived, and now Landes had confessed that she couldn’t be contacted by portal.

Reaching down she grabbed Landes by the chin and jerked him to his feet.

“Obviously I overestimated your worth to me, Landes.”

His beautiful eyes widened. “No. I will find her, I swear on my life.”

With a cold smile, Morgana placed a light kiss on his lips. “Too late, my beautiful boy. I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.”

Deepening the kiss, Morgana pressed her hands to Landes’s bare chest, using her powers to drain the life from his large body.

He struggled for a moment before sighing softly and tumbling to the ground. Morgana indifferently stepped over his carcass and with a wave of her hand the two guards were rushing to carry the dead fairy from her throne room.

Waiting for the doors to shut behind the guards, Morgana tilted back her head and shrieked in frustration.

How dare the fates continue to taunt her?

She was a queen. A beloved leader of all fairies. She should be gracing the world with her beauty. She should be worshipped by all. Instead she was forced to hide in the mists of her land, in constant fear that her brother’s final revenge was lurking just out of sight.

“Broken another one of your toys?” a reedy, female voice demanded. “How many times have I warned you about that temper?”

Whirling on her heel, Morgana watched as the shrunken old woman, with nasty tufts of gray hair stuck to her scalp and pure white eyes, shuffled into the room. The queen grimaced, disgusted by the vile smell of rotting teeth and recently slaughtered sacrifice that the woman carried with her.

Modron had taken Morgana from her crib when she was just a babe and raised her as her own. It wasn’t sentiment, however, that kept Morgana from killing the disgusting creature. The woman was a powerful seer. A rare power even among fairies.

“Shut up, you old hag,” she snarled, throwing herself onto her throne with a petulant frown. “I’ve enough troubles without listening to your tedious lectures.”