TheKingsLady (2 page)

“I won’t be taken easily.”

His grin widened, his eyes sparking with true pleasure. “I do hope so, Miss. McAllister, I do hope so.”

* * * *

Arthur parked his black SUV up a block from the immaculate little pink and white house. A literal gods damn white picket fence surrounded the property and sported a huge elm tree complete with rose bushes lining the path up to a small porch. Quaint came to mind when he spotted it, a perfect home sweet home, something of a surprise.

He didn’t have a clue what he expected. Perhaps something edging on dark and gloomy? After all, he was dealing with a witch—something he never dealt with before—and well, the three witches in
Macbeth
popped into his brain. Definitely not normal any town USA.

He glanced up at the rearview mirror, his gaze catching the four pairs of eyes staring back at him. His men…and women all pledged to join him in ridding an evil which touched all of their lives. He feared by the time this war finished they were going to be subjected to more pain, compliments from one evil sorcerer type called Mordred now in the skin of one Vance Hollister.

Gods, he was tired.

Tired of shouldering the burdens of leadership, worrying about losing his men to such evil, damn tired of all of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he relaxed, went fishing or took a ride up Old Highway One and took in the scenic sights, the jagged line where the sea beat against the rocky, unyielding coast, leaving spectacular, majestic cliffs gouged deep from the wave’s incessant pounding.

He looked at Drake and Merci through the mirror, noticed their twined fingers. Those two went through hell and back for each other. Drake’s blond head bent close to Merci’s raven locks as he murmured something in her ear, bringing a flush of color to spread across her delicate cheekbones. Once known as Merlin, Drake and Merci only weeks past battled the goddess Nimue and with the help of Viviane—the one and only Lady of the Lake from legend—succeeded in breaking her curse which unbound his powers. Drake had feared a relationship with Merci since she was a direct descendant of Morgan le Fey. Merci held the powers of light and dark inside her, locked in constant battle, funny thing how love could be the great equalizer and the answer to defeating both of their demons. Now they were expecting a child. And the happiness they shared was almost too much for Arthur to bear.

Envious? Hell yes, he could acknowledge it, if only to himself.

His gaze traveled to Colin and Juliet, who only days ago survived a brutal attack from Vance. Juliet’s druidic powers were strong and her ability to take the will from any living thing and bend it to her wishes the whole reason Vance wanted her.

Again, Vance lost out, love being the catalyst to saving them when a woman named Carlotta threw herself in front of a death spell meant for them. Her dying words a plea for the safekeeping of her niece who just happened to be a witch.

The love conquers all cliché seemed alive and kicking.

Go figure.

Arthur gave his passenger a quick glance. Neil Calder, the first in the group of merry knights to marry, brought experience in military intelligence and combat to the table. His wife Andrea was at the compound working her own brand of magic with computer gadgets and the weaponry she developed for the men.

The weight of responsibility nearly buried him alive. Hating the fact, he needed every one of them to fight this war. And now he had an unknown he vowed to protect. A witch no one knew anything about. And if he knew Vance, he would be doing his damndest to get his hands on.

A very bad beginning and with his luck, it would only go downhill from there.

Arthur took a deep breath, his mind churning over possible ways to extract the witch with the least risk to her. “I saw two of Vance’s men in the front, possibly more in the back.”

Neil pulled his gun from the shoulder harness and attached the silencer, black metal glinting in the sun’s rays like polished obsidian. “I’ll take the back.”

“Not without me, boyo,” Colin chimed in, his Irish brogue heavy with menace. “I have some payback to give to those lads.”

Drake chuckled darkly. “I have your back, Arthur, Merci and I will take care of any interference in the front and have it clear before you hit the front step. Isn’t that right, love?”

“Oh yeah, nothing makes my day better than hearing a grown man scream like a little girl.” Merci grinned wickedly.

Juliet laughed, the sound light, musical, belying just how lethal she could be. “I’m sure I can whip up something interesting for Vance and his goons.”

“Good, it’s settled then. Let’s move, people.”

Arthur took the sidewalk at a slow stroll, pulling in a deep breath of fresh salty air. The early afternoon sun broke through the light fog in hazy patches of sunlight. He found the town charming with the neatly kept lawns and painted homes, small cozy bed and breakfasts, store fronts sporting souvenirs for the countless tourists who passed through on the way to Los Angeles. He couldn’t see living in such a town as this, his life too fast-paced and sporadic for such an idle life. However, if he had the choice, this would be where he would settle.

He cursed under his breath. No use wishing for what could never be. His life could only be about responsibilities and protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. Always had been and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon, if ever.

He knew his men kept watch over him as he made his way to the witch’s home. He saw one of Vance’s men move from the shadows of the large elm tree and approach, his hand reaching inside his jacket and knew he reached for a gun. He felt no fear as he stared the man straight in the eye and smiled.

“You may want to re-think going for your weapon,” Arthur warned lightly.

“And what are you going to do? You’d be dead before you can make a move to defend yourself,” Vance’s goon challenged.

“That wouldn’t be too smart of you,” a woman’s voice came from the tree he just moved from. Merci stepped into view, her hands glowing with a blue green light.

The man snarled as he whirled to face Merci. “You have given Vance a lot of trouble, bitch, and I’m about to even the score.”

She tisked, shaking her head with disappointment. “I think Vance either has you brainwashed, or you’re just too dumb to realize you’re playing for the wrong side.”

“I believe he’s the latter, love.” Drake chuckled as he moved into view. “I wouldn’t pull that gun out if you wish to live. My wife here is the type to shoot first and let the gods deal with your sorry ass.”

“It’s kept me alive so far,” Merci retorted, her dark violet gaze boring into the man.

He slowly brought his hand away, looking uncomfortable, as his gaze slid between Drake and Merci. Arthur almost laughed out loud at the hired muscle. “I believe this is where you are expected to run,” Arthur explained, wondering at the caliber of help Vance was recruiting.

“Fuck this. I don’t get paid enough to risk my butt,” he spat out as he turned and jumped the low fence, making a hasty exit while he could.

Arthur moved up the small path heading for the front door and the inevitable conflict with Vance. His blood pumped in readiness, and he controlled his breathing, remembering the first lesson he learned in the art of warfare. Never fight with your emotions.

The sound of shattering glass broke the peaceful air surrounding the neighborhood. A huge shadow hurtled past him, forcing him a step back to keep from being hit. Drake and Merci moved to his side as they looked first to the broken front window and then to the old recliner now resting on its side next to the large elm tree. A curse exploded from Drake as he leapt up the steps and kicked in the door, Merci on his heels as they disappeared inside.

Arthur followed, pulling out the long buck knife strapped to his ankle, his hand firm around the handle. He stepped into the home, ignoring the broken pieces of furniture strewn about the room. His entire focus riveted on the broad back of a tall dark-haired man impeccably dressed and pulsing with enough twisted magic it repelled him to take a step back. Gritting his teeth against the pressure building against his temples, he forced his feet to carry him further into the room, Drake and Merci at his sides, their combined magic ready to engage.

Vance swung his head to the side, pinning Arthur with a gaze of pure malice. “I was expecting you to show up much later,
Father
. I assumed I would already be gone and the prize with me. Ah, well, that’s what I get for assuming, don’t you agree?”

“You underestimated me yet again, Vance,” Arthur drawled, his southern accent becoming more pronounced. “It’s becoming a habit of yours, you know?”

“Not this time. This time
you
underestimated
me
. Tell your guard dogs to back off, or I’ll kill the witch.”

At his demand, he swung around, showing what his big body kept hidden. A blaze of red hair cascaded down her shoulders in a wild tumble of curls framing a heart-shaped face. Thick dark lashes framed large eyes slightly tilted up and dominated her delicate features. Full lush lips parted as she rasped in a breath. Vance’s hand tightened around her throat and lifted her up until she was forced to stand on her toes in order to keep from strangling.

Arthur could only stare in mute silence, stunned and helpless against the pull of those glistening blue eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea. Eyes he hoped he would never again gaze into, for within those sparkling eyes housed the soul of the only woman he had ever loved. And the one whose betrayal he could never forgive.

Chapter Two

Guinevere
.

Her name crashed through his brain with hurricane force, his chest held in a vise grip, clamping down, making it hard for him to take a breath. He wondered what it would be like to look at her again after her betrayal. Wondered if he could gaze into those startling blue eyes and not feel the seething churn of emotions her gaze evoked. Within those turbulent depths, he found heaven and hell.

His control eroded beneath the boiling caldron of contradictions. Anger, loss, love and hate warred within him, threatening to tear him apart. The sound of his own pulse hammering in his ears made him deaf to anything else around him. A part of him wished Vance would just squeeze her throat tighter and end his torment. The other raged at the threat he posed to his woman, wanting to protect her.

“Drake, you and Merci wait for me outside with the others.” Could that raspy voice be his?

“No fucking way,” Merci snarled.

“This is not open for negotiations.” Arthur snapped, his temper slipping from his tight leash of control.

“I agree with Merci. You’re not facing off with him without us.” Drake’s tone made it clear he wouldn’t budge.

“I believe this is what is called a stalemate, Vance, let the lady go, and I’ll let you walk away.
This time
,” Arthur amended.

Vance’s lip curled up in a sneer. “I have a better idea. You and your misguided duo there move aside and let us pass.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Gwen gasped out. “Cause I like the idea of all of you leaving me the hell alone.”

“Enough out of you, witch,” Vance hissed, tightening his hold on her throat.

“That’s it. I’ve had enough of this shit!” Merci growled between clenched teeth and threw her hand out, index finger pointed at Vance. A flash of blue light appeared at the tip, then shot out in a tight stream at the hand holding Gwen’s throat.

Taking Merci’s cue, Drake pulled his power, the energy rasping over Arthur’s nerve endings. Gods he hated the prickling feeling, it reminded him of thousands of spiders crawling over his flesh. The room seemed to waver and constrict with the combined power being used. For a non-magical being like him the feeling of helplessness bit deep.

Drake shouted a word he couldn’t even begin to guess at and the next second his world exploded in jagged shards of light and sound. A rush of wind howled around him, whipping his hair into his eyes. He saw a flash of movement as Vance was ripped away from the witch and hurled through the broken window. The wind died as quickly as it began, the magic mercifully easing off his exposed nerves.

Anger flashed through him, burning in his veins, a flash fire as he rounded on his friends. “When I give y’all an order, I expect it to be followed, gods damn it!”

Drake gave him a hard look. “Our first priority is you, Arthur. As long as you decide to come on these foolhardy ventures and put yourself in harm’s way.”

Arthur stiffened, reading loud and clear what he didn’t say. “As I recall it wasn’t so long ago that your magic was bound and you had to rely on other skills to survive.”

Drake was in his face in a second, a muscle ticking in his clenching his jaw. “Yeah, and I wasn’t the fucking leader,” he rasped out, his voice like ground glass.

“Enough you two,” Merci snapped. “Gods the amount of testosterone you both are flinging out is enough to choke on. Back off, Drake, he has a point, and you know it.”

Arthur’s gaze snapped to the raven haired, violet-eyed beauty. “At least you understand.”

Drake opened his mouth to argue, but Merci cut him off before he could even utter a sentence. “And so do you, Drake. I believe you should agree to disagree if you both are childish enough to carry this further. Besides, we need to get the witch and get the hell out,
now
.”