Master of Fire (9 page)

“Yes, my liege.”
And you care, why?
She managed not to ask.

Morgana smiled, revealing teeth so white, she looked more vampire than witch. “Call me Morgana, child. I know how uncomfortable you Americans are with titles.”

“Ah. Thank you.” She sipped, expecting something a bit too dry and sour for her—her father had always said Giada had a barbarian’s tastes when it came to wine. Instead, it was heady, deliciously sweet. “Oh, this is good!”

A dark brow lifted ever so slightly. “You sound surprised.”

Giada froze. “No, ma’am.”

Morgana laughed, a waterfall of pealing notes. “Relax, child. I don’t bite.” A long-nailed hand touched the emerald nestled in her cleavage. “At least, not young girls.”

In the middle of another sip, Giada almost choked.
Does that mean she bites older girls, or just boys?

The Maja’s smile widened. “Occasionally.”

Oh, my God. Is she reading my mind? And what the heck does she mean by that?
She put the flute down on the glass coffee table with a clink. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“You’re doing it, dear. My nephew’s life is very valuable to me. To us all.” Green eyes gleamed up at her. Morgana stroked the emerald again, slowly, almost teasingly. “My visions tell me he will become a very great Magus. The Magekind needs him. Desperately.”

Giada’s stomach promptly knotted into macramé.
I think I see where this is going. And I don’t like the destination.
“I’m sure he will be—when he decides to accept the Gift.”

Cat eyes considered her. “You could . . .
encourage
him to embrace his destiny.”

“Arthur and Guinevere have ordered me not to tell Logan I’m a Maja.”

Morgana’s smile was as thin as a razor, and just as sharp. “So don’t tell him.”

Giada’s eyes narrowed. “They also ordered me to stay out of his bed. Repeatedly. And I will not disobey them.”

“Will you not?” There was a note of silky threat in her voice.

Giada swallowed and lifted her chin. “No.”

Lush lips thinned, and Morgana’s voice snapped like a whip. “I am your liege!”

Giada stared at her, anger beginning to heat her veins.
She wants me to seduce him into the Gift without warning him!
“And I gave. My.
Word.
”

“You’re from the twenty-first century. Your word is . . . flexible.”

Now she saw red. “No. It’s really not.”

Morgana settled back against the settee’s arm and eyed her, gaze now cool with calculation. “No. I see it isn’t.” Her dark head tilted as she studied Giada with unnerving intensity. “You’re not the most powerful Maja, are you?”

“No.” Giada met her gaze without flinching, anger making her reckless. “And yes, you
could
fry me like a mosquito in a bug zapper.”

“Oh, child! So melodramatic!” Once again, Morgana threw back her head in pealing laughter. It was beginning to seem a little over the top. “I have no interest in hurting you! I want to help you. After all, you’re all that stands between my beloved nephew and a very ugly mortal death.”

Riiiiight.
Giada just looked at her, brows lifted.

“And I do want him to survive long enough to become a Magus.” She reached behind her neck, thrusting out her impressive cleavage as she took off her emerald necklace. The gemstone swung with a hypnotic glitter as she extended it to Giada. “This will amplify your connection to the Mageverse, allowing you to draw power more easily.”

Giada eyed the gem warily. “That’s very generous, but I couldn’t . . .”

“Do you wish to save Logan’s life or not?”

She blew out a breath and extended her hand. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”

Morgana poured the emerald and its golden chain into her palm, sending a hot tingle racing up her arm.

Concealing a shiver, Giada looped the necklace over her head. “Thank you.” She meant it.

Giada had lived most of her life as the most gifted person in the room. Finding herself a less-than-powerful witch grated on her. Particularly now, when everything depended on her magical skill.

Morgana gave her a curt nod and rose from the settee like a cat uncoiling. “Keep it with you. You’ll need it.”

Knowing a dismissal when she heard one, Giada rose and bowed. “Thank you, my liege.”

The witch nodded and escorted her to the door. Giada fled, feeling she’d made a narrow escape.

 

 

Morgana watched the
young Maja stride across her garden. A gate appeared before her like a glowing doorway of light, and she vanished through it in a ripple of magical energy.

Slumping, the Maja swung her front door closed. There would be repercussions for this night’s work. The girl wouldn’t discover the deception—she didn’t have the power.

Guinevere, however, did.

Arthur’s wife would know the minute she touched the necklace that it was spelled to do more than enhance the child’s power. She and Arthur would be furious. So would Logan and Giada, for that matter.

But it wouldn’t be the first time Morgana had angered her half brother, and it wouldn’t be the last. She wasn’t looking forward to facing his rage—or Logan’s either, for that matter. But she’d long since accepted the fact that someone had to do the jobs others were too honorable to do.

Morgana didn’t enjoy such jobs, and she certainly wasn’t proud of doing them, but she’d always done what was best for her people no matter the cost.

And she always would.

 

 

The woman tightened her grip on the cell phone. “No.”

Her father swore, hissing curses in a deadly voice. “Useless female. I should have known you would not have the stomach for this.”

“My stomach is not the problem.” She took a deep breath and wrestled her irritation into submission. Father had never recognized her strength, her determination. All his hopes had rested on her older brother’s shoulders, despite Trey’s obvious flaws.

But she’d sworn that by the time she was done, he’d see her worth, strength, and intelligence. She’d prove she was more than the mere female he considered her. “They’ve got a witch watching him. She disabled the first bomb.”

“They suspect?” Alarm rang in his voice. “I told you they must learn nothing!”

“And they haven’t.” With an effort, she kept her tone cool and level. “They simply suspect someone is targeting their Latents. And they’ll never learn anything different, because I’m going to take care of her. Once she’s gone, Arthur’s spawn will be dead within the day.”

“Good. I want that bastard Celt to suffer as I have.”

“He will.”

“But carefully. I do not want our shame common knowledge. Too many enemies would turn it against me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry, Father. They’ll never trace any of this back to you. I have taken great care to make sure the assassin knows nothing. And you know I will never betray you.”

“See that you don’t.”

His tone sent ice creeping up her spine. She could almost feel the weight of his fist. She licked dry lips. “How is Mother?”

“No better. She is sedated most of the time.” He sighed. “She fears how our people will react if this becomes known. And her grief . . .” Silence stretched, vibrating and taut. “She has never been strong, even for a female.”

Her fingers tightened on the cell phone. “Our people will know only what you want them to know. And Arthur will pay in blood.”

Only to wake, shivering, in the dark, her body thrumming with the dying echoes of her climax.

As she wondered yet again whether it had been vision or dream.

 

 

Across town, Logan
jolted awake, sweating, sick at the taste of dream blood and the sight of Giada’s bloodless corpse. And tried desperately to persuade himself it had been only a nightmare and nothing more.

 

 

The next morning
dawned clear and bright, under a sky of a particularly piercing shade of Carolina blue. The drive to the sheriff’s office required more patience than Giada usually had, as she negotiated the bustling Greendale traffic through the city’s sprawling downtown. The stream of cars poured past clothing and antique stores crowded shoulder to shoulder with restaurants and bars. A couple of corporate headquarters presided over the low skyline with brick faces trimmed in cream and banks of windows like huge green mirrors.

In Greendale, anything over three stories looked like a skyscraper.

Finally reaching her destination, Giada drove her Toyota Camry into the sheriff’s office parking lot and pulled into her assigned space.

As she got out, juggling a newspaper and a cup of cooling drive-through coffee, Logan looked up from locking his own car door. “Hey.” His smile flashed as he walked over to her, and her too-susceptible heart began to beat far too fast with the memory of last night’s dream. She barely noticed the rumble of a car pulling up behind her.

“Ready for another exciting day in the world of—” Logan broke off, his eyes widening in horror. “Gun!” He leaped even as he roared the warning, slamming into Giada with desperate, bone-jarring force, powerful arms wrapping around her. Coffee and paper went flying as they crashed down in a heap. A pistol fired with an oddly flat firecracker pop. Giada’s head hit the pavement, touching off a cascade of stars behind her eyes.

She stared at the light show in dazed incomprehension as a car engine roared, accelerating away.

Someone just shot at us.
For a stunned, breathless moment, Giada lay on the cold pavement, under Logan’s warm, panting weight, waiting for the next bullet. It didn’t come.

“Giada! Are you all right?” He peeled himself off her, dark eyes searching her face as he drew his gun. “Giada!”

She struggled to suck in a breath—but her stunned, frozen lungs refused to obey.
Got the breath knocked out of me
. She cast a quick spell, shocking her diaphragm into motion. “I’m okay,” she wheezed.