Timeless Vision (13 page)

“I’m sure they were looking for me, for the magician who traced the device left behind by the thief.”

“You put Tara in danger.” His quiet voice did nothing to dispel the surge of temper. “That’s the opposite of everything I was trained to do in this scenario.”

Sterling came to attention, but Wayne gestured for the dog to relax. He’d created this problem through reckless overconfidence and deserved the set down. “How much do you know of the original spell?”

“Not enough, I’m guessing.” On a heavy sigh, Nick got up and went to the cold box Tara called a fridge and pulled out a bottle. After popping the cap and taking a long drink, he knelt down and gave Sterling’s head a rub. Standing, he tipped his head toward Tara. “I’ve spent the day doing research and it’s clear to me some things were deliberately omitted over time. The spell must be bound with O’Malley blood or you wouldn’t have been so aggravated to discover we existed.”

“You are correct.” He folded his hands on the table, refusing to think of Tara as the lamb Morgana would eagerly slaughter for her freedom.

“So it can’t be Morgana out there calling the shots if no O’Malleys were injured,” Nick said. “My dad and grandpa have helped me track everyone down. From what I can tell, the only blood that spilled today was yours.”

Wayne acknowledged the observation. “Could we speak privately?”

“No.” Nick and Tara spoke in unison, down to the matching determination.

“You’re not shutting me out,” Tara added.

“We’re not putting you in danger again either.” There was no mistaking the authority in Nick’s voice. “I’ve heard about this cult with the black horse tattoos. It’s my job,” he said when Tara muttered an insult. “The founder claims to be a descendant of Morgan Le Fey.”

“An acceptable explanation,” Wayne mused. “I suppose such a popular myth would draw in unwitting recruits from every generation.”

“It’s a fair ploy,” Nick agreed. “But why steal the dagger now?”

Still rattled from the way the witch had cowed him and the way Tara’s kiss lingered in his system, Wayne decided he needed a drink himself. Maybe the bottled brew would give him some relief. He’d been no monk in the past and he recognized lust when it had him by the throat. Something about the woman called him to claim her as his own. How much of that was the witch’s trickery? Mimicking Nick, he drank deep before returning to the problem.

“Morgan Le Fey or Morgana, by any name she remains influential,” he continued. “Her inherent power, rooted in nature, does not truly die. She had no surviving offspring when I trapped her. The witch we saw resembled her enough that I was fooled.” The admission bruised his pride, much as the stray punch had bruised his cheek. “She must want the dagger as a trophy to establish her influence. It’s unlikely she believes she can release Morgana.” He looked to Nick. “I wanted to follow her and I believe that’s what she wanted me to do.”

“He collapsed and started bleeding, so I insisted on the hospital until you told us to come here instead,” Tara interjected.

“He stopped bleeding once you arrived, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“I knew it.” Nick gave them a self-satisfied grin. “We’ve worked hard on this place from the first stone to the latest remodel.”

“I know we’re both grateful,” Tara said. “But what do we do about the witch? That stunt or spell or whatever she did gave her a distinct advantage over our gallant knight. Sterling and I were all that was holding him up,” she finished, avoiding his gaze.

Unhappy with the image she painted, Wayne looked to Sterling and forced himself to examine the scene from his hound’s perspective. “The witch was strong and her power was similar to Morgana’s,” he agreed. “Beyond the confines of the spell I cast, her aura was not familiar to either the hound or me. She must be your contemporary.”

“Auras?” Tara’s green eyes went wide. “The dog sees auras?”

“It’s the best word I know to use to describe the mystical energy around someone so powerful,” Wayne said.

“How can you be sure? Wouldn’t an aura change over the course of centuries?” Nick asked.

“Not at the core,” Wayne replied. “Magic leaves behind traces unique to the person using it.”

“At least that narrows the search a little,” Nick said. “Give me a description and I’ll get started. We need to find this woman and fast.”

Chapter Eight

Collette poured a deep red wine into a glass and let it breathe. Let herself breathe. Despite Darius’ concerns, she had been smart to follow and watch from the shadows as her team tested the man helping the O’Malley woman.

Turning a happy circle, she reveled in the shock and joy to have Gawain the Gallant here in the 21
^st
century. Gawain was here, in the flesh. Not a reincarnation, not a mirage or trick of some talented sorcerer.

There was no mistaking him. Or better put, there was no mistaking the mystical energy pulsing off his splendid form. She’d returned to her chambers and confirmed it with Morgana’s personal notes. She didn’t know how he’d managed to survive. She didn’t care. The sinful potential simmering under his excellent body and golden face called to her to turn him to her cause. All of the risks had been worth it, to have caught a glimpse of the legendary man who’d nearly destroyed everything centuries ago.

Unlike Morgana, Collette didn’t hold his drastic actions against him. Of course, she had the benefit of time and perspective. At the time, the gallant knight thought he was doing the right and noble thing by siphoning the power and binding Morgana. He’d been brainwashed by his precious King Arthur to believe her ancestor had an evil agenda.

Gawain’s trouble was the same as Arthur’s, with that annoying, persistent faith and belief in the unimaginative values of loyalty and equality. Normal people weren’t capable of maintaining such a standard. Morgana had understood some people were stronger and better than others. The vast majority of people were sheep, willing to follow whoever promised security and peace with the least amount of effort.

She raised the glass to her lips and sipped the wine, soothing her rapid pulse. Gawain had dispatched the men she’d sent far too easily. While she’d assumed it would be three against one, the old knight had allies. His ever-present dog of course, but the O’Malley woman had proven more capable than she’d anticipated.

“I need the O’Malley family tree,” she said to the empty room. She would make a full study of them, as she’d studied every other piece in this vast puzzle. She would learn what they’d done to pull Gawain through time so quickly after she’d stolen the dagger. Then they would be flushed out and captured, every last one of them used to further the greater good. Her greater good.

At the knock at the door, she invited Darius inside. “Tell me everything.” She gestured for him to sit with her on the couch.

“The men are recovering quickly. They’ve said little so far, Collette.”

Her concern stretched only as far as when she might interrogate them. She hadn’t dared to go inside that tawdry pub until she knew what they were facing. “What spells were used against them?”

“None.”

She echoed the response into her wine. How odd that Gawain would not even attempt to fight with his strongest weapons. Unless his magic was no longer his strength. “I wonder what they saw?”

“When we arrived, he was drinking,” Darius said. “I used that, made it more potent, to blur his senses.”

“Well done.” She wanted to dance in victory and settled for a soft kiss against his ebony lips. “I want to see it all for myself,” she declared. Hopping from the couch, she motioned for Darius to lead the way.

She was nearly effervescent since returning from her jaunt to Brooklyn. Her mind drifted back to that moment on the street. She had pushed the great Gawain to his knees. It gave her a delicious thrill of anticipation of what was to come.

Once she separated him from the woman and the dog, she had no doubt he would surrender to her. She knew how to manipulate men. Not even Gawain’s renowned goodness could withstand her sly assault. To have his skills on her side would change everything. Together they would be unstoppable.

At the common room door she waited, watching the people milling about. Her followers, this core group of people, were only the beginning. Loyal to her above all, they applied themselves to their mutual goals with all their strength. Some had magic talents, but most had basic skills they happily devoted to the ideas she presented to them. Each person here worked tirelessly to transform the world in her image.

“This way, my lady.” She walked with Darius to a table where the two held bags of ice to bruises and minor cuts.

Seeing her, they started to rise. She urged them to relax with a radiant smile. “What were your orders?” she asked in an even tone.

The men looked at each other, then her. Her thief let the other man speak first. “To identify and observe the magician who helped the woman. The fight was unintentional.”

“I see.” If they hadn’t appeared so contrite, they would’ve felt the immediate sting of her temper. She prodded them a bit with her thoughts, but couldn’t get a clear read from either man. “Tell me how he bested you.”

“Straight up power,” the wiry thief said. “And the dog didn’t help matters. He sensed trouble, I’m sure of it. Dogs are the worst.”

She nodded, keeping her features placid as the leader described how they’d lost the element of surprise and been out-maneuvered.

Again, she was glad she’d followed them. “Come with me.” This next step was best handled privately. She rose from the table and they trailed after her like ducklings, Darius bringing up the rear as they left the common room.

In her private conference room where she’d planned this evening’s mission just a few hours earlier, she asked the men to be seated. With a thought, the doors locked and with the twitch of her finger, she dimmed the lights. “Be at ease, friends.”

Despite her outward calm, she trembled inside. With excitement. All her planning was coming to fruition. The solstice was nearly here and she sensed this would finally be the year when all the pieces were in place.

“Make them comfortable,” she said to Darius. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

“Yes, my lady.”

She’d wanted the dagger since she’d found the obscure sketches and brief references created by the few fortunate souls who’d survived Gawain’s dreadful attack. The dagger had been a critical element in the spell he’d woven to imprison Morgana in the 6
^th
century. She’d found the story of the O’Malley family little more than charming as she tracked the dagger through generations, across an ocean, to the dull little pub in Brooklyn. There had been no signs that they understood the dagger’s true value.

And yet Gawain had arrived, an apparent champion of the O’Malley clan.

She knew from the first moment the small blade packed serious power and she refused to let anyone else touch it. Not even Darius. Though she wanted to know exactly what had happened in the pub, this was the perfect time for a test run.

Collette left through the secret door at the rear of her rooms and took each step a little quicker than the last, eager to see how the dagger boosted her power. She navigated the secret route confidently, as Darius had long ago posted loyal scouts all around Manhattan. She couldn’t have just anyone traipsing through the warrens and tunnels they had explored, searching along leylines for the ideal anchor point.

Several of their scouts had reported an inexplicable flex in power this morning and she smiled, realizing now that must have been a reaction to Gawain’s arrival.

She paused at the door of her private sanctuary, holding her breath as she crossed the threshold. As it had from the moment she and Darius had identified this chamber decades ago, the power sizzled through her blood. Pure bliss.

Plucking up a fat candle from the edge of the altar stone, she carried it closer to the center of the room and breathed deeply. The dagger trembled in her grasp as she stepped into her circle.

She murmured the words to light the candle wick and lurched back as the candle ignited, shooting a flame a foot high. Her laughter bounced through the stone chamber. This was the enhancement, the x-factor, she needed.

When the time was right, when Gawain willingly brought all of his power to this space, this dagger along with her carefully wrought spell would be exactly what she needed to achieve her utmost dreams.

She intended to usher in a new era of power and respect for their growing cult. She would lead them as Morgana had done, influencing the future of this city. Already Collette imagined the joy of her growing influence. Influence that would spread far and wide until people from all corners of the world bowed to her.

She deserved nothing less.

Extinguishing the candle, she replaced it on the altar and hurried back upstairs.

“Are they ready?”

“Yes, my lady.”

She pressed her fingertips to the thief’s temple. “Tell me everything.”

The man’s eyes rolled back in his head and his words were garbled. The dagger had given her command too much weight. Reluctantly setting the dagger on the table, she tried again. The man’s memories of the evening played out as if she were in his skin. Every sight and smell, every word exchanged. She even felt the weight of the blows during the fighting.

Her heart pounded in her ears, sweat gathered at her back, between her breasts. As she composed herself, pulling out of the man’s memories, she noticed blood dripping from the thief’s nose onto the blade of the dagger.

Runes appeared where none had been visible before. The dark discovery coursed through her. She sat down hard in the nearest chair and dragged the blood along the blade to reveal more symbols. She called for paper and pen and Darius delivered immediately. “Copy these,” she ordered as she kept the thief bleeding so the runes remained visible.

“What does it mean?” Darius asked when she was satisfied they had completed the notes.