“IT’S GOING TO BE OKAY,” LUCAN SAID.

His voice was low and sexy, and every time his gaze met hers, her pulse kicked up another notch. “We’re going to be okay.”

We? “You don’t know that,” she whispered.

“I know that you’ll do your best and that’s all anyone can do.” His fingers slid sensuously over her arm.

“But my best—”

“Your best is passionate and strong. Your best is better than anyone else’s I know,” he insisted, the searing heat in his eyes melting her. Then his mouth closed over hers. She let out a soft gasp and parted her lips. While she knew friends didn’t kiss like this, she made herself stop thinking. She wasn’t going to think about anything painful, not when she could lose herself in his kiss.

With an aching deep in her heart, Cael trailed her hands over his back, his neck, and into his thick hair. Goddess, she adored kissing this man who could be so tender and hot all at the same time.

Kissing him was oh-so-much better than any dream she’d ever had. His kisses made her feel cherished, special, and most of all, for the first time in her life, desired…

“Fast-paced and sexy otherworld adventure.”

—LINNEA SINCLAIR, RITA award-winning author
of Hope’s Folly

PRAISE FOR
SUSAN KEARNEY

“Kearney is a master storyteller.”

—New York Times bestselling author
VIRGINIA HENLEY

“[Kearney] combines sexy romance with spaceships, laser guns, psychic powers, and time travel.”

—Tampa Tribune

“Susan Kearney takes you on a wild ride, keeping you guessing until the very end.”

—New York Times bestselling author
KAREN ROSE on Kiss Me Deadly

“Out-of-this-world love scenes, pulse-pounding action, and characters who come right off the page.”

—USA Today bestselling author
SUZANNE FORSTER on The Dare

<“Looking for something different? A futuristic romance
… The Challenge gave me a new perspective… love and sex in the future!”

—New York Times bestselling author
CARLY PHILLIPS

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, localte Douglas, and Jeanie Legendre for their critiquing efforts. Thanks for making the book so much better.

Contents

Copyright

“It’s Going to be Okay,” Lucan Said.

Praise For Susan Kearney

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

>

Chapter 1

A Preview of Jordan

-1-

The Dish

The precious myths of our heritage are our way of understanding things greater than ourselves. They are tales of the inexplicable forces that shape our lives and of events that defy explanation. These legends are rooted in the spilling of our life blood, in the courage of brave hearts, in the resilience of humanity’s tenacious spirit.

—ARTHUR PENDRAGON

PROLOGUE

In the near future

Slow down, Marisa,” Lucan Roarke warned his twin.

They were deep inside the cave he’d discovered in the Welsh countryside in the shadow of Cadbury Castle, and his helmet light had settled on a gaping crack in the compacted clay of the cavern’s floor. “Don’t step on that—”

“What?” Marisa looked back at him just as the ground opened beneath her feet. Falling, she flailed her arms and clawed at the cave wall for a handhold, but the loose earth crumbled beneath her fingertips, and gravity dragged her down through the crevice into the darkness below.

Lucan lunged to grab her, but the unstable earth lurched and dipped under him, throwing him off balance, and his fingers missed her by inches.

“Marisa!” The sound of splashing water drowned out his cry.

Lucan had brought his sister to Cadbury Castle for a vacation, and he’d been excited to show her this cave—his latest discovery in his quest for the Holy Grail. Although many dismissed the Grail as mythical, his years of exploration and research had convinced him the vessel actually existed.

Lucan peered through the gloom into the chasm, but his helmet light couldn’t penetrate the blackness. Even worse, the earthen sides of the hole made a steep vertical descent. Reaching for the heavy-duty flashlight he carried in his back pocket, he yelled, “Marisa? Talk to me, damn it.”

Nothing but silence answered him.

Closing his eyes, Lucan inhaled deeply and concentrated on linking his mind with hers, a telepathic communication the two had shared since they were little.

Marisa. Where are you?

<>
Old and fragile, the antiquity had survived in amazing condition. He balanced the flashlight between his shoulder and chin, unfurled his find, and squinted, wishing for his lost glasses.

Marisa peered over his arm, her reporter’s curiosity evident. “What is it?”

Lucan stared, his pulse racing in excitement. The astrological map revealed the Sun, the Earth, planets. And many stars. But what had his heart battering his ribs was the line drawn from Earth to a star far across the galaxy. He was looking at an ancient map of the heavens. His mouth went dry. “This is a star map.”

“Why do you sound so surprised? Even the most ancient cultures were into astrology.”

“Astronomy,” he corrected automatically. “I’m no astronomer, but this looks… far too accurate for its time. King Arthur, remember. The Age of Chivalry.”

“Yeah, right.”

Lost in thought, he ignored her sarcasm. “This map has details the Hubble telescope might not pick up, yet it’s thousands of years old. It’s unbelievable.”

“So it’s a fake?”

“I’ll have to perform tests…” He squinted at the map. His gaze moved on to the distant stars and their planets. “Hell.”

“What now?”

He pointed to the map. “This moon is named Pendragon.”

“Wasn’t that King Arthur’s last name?”

He nodded and squinted. “And written right under Pendragon is the word Avalon.”

“Avalon? Is that significant?”

“Avalon was a legendary isle ruled by a Druid priestess called the Lady of the Lake,” he answered. “She helped put Arthur on the throne. And according to the stories, Avalon was also where King Arthur left the Holy Grail.”

“The Holy Grail?” Disbelief filled her voice.

“The powers of the cup are legendary. If the myths are true, the cup might cure physical ills—cancer, heart attacks, and…” He hesitated before breathing out the word. “Sterility.”

Though neither his sister nor her husband was officially sterile, like most of Earth’s population, they couldn’t have children. Her recent miscarriage had been her second in as many years. If the cup truly existed and he could find it, his sister—and hundreds of thousands of others—could finally carry a child to term.

“Throughout the ages,” he continued, “many men, including Arthur’s own Knights of the Round Table, have searched for Avalon and the Holy Grail. Legendary stories of the Grail’s healing properties exist in many cultures, yet no one has found it.” He pointed to the small moon on the ancient map. “Maybe that’s because Avalon wasn’t on Earth.”

“You’ve lost your mind.” She e despairing, she might be able to hope again.

“A search for the Holy Grail might be the most exciting thing I’ll ever do.”

“It might also be the last thing you ever do. Didn’t you learn your lesson when you went in search of Preah Vihear antiquities?”

“The golden statue of the dancing Shiva I found in the Khmer temple was worth—”

“Ending up in a Cambodian jail?”

“Just a little misunderstanding. We got it squared away.”

She cursed under her breath. “You sure you don’t have a death wish? Or are you just an adrenaline junkie?”

She was fussing only because she loved him, so he ignored her rhetorical questions. Besides, he wasn’t the only twin who took calculated risks. As a reporter for the St. Petersburg Times, Marisa had placed herself in danger often. They were some pair. She wanted to report the present to change the future. Until now, he’d believed humanity was headed for extinction, and he had studied the past because the future looked bleak. But if he could find the Grail, the past just might offer hope.

Marisa sighed. “We need to dig out of here.”

He carefully rolled up the parchment and placed it in the dry sample bag he’d pulled from his backpack. Then he shined the light on the broken pottery. Kneeling, he began gathering as many shards as he could carry.

He reached for a particularly large piece, covered in an array of signs and symbols, when he spied daylight glimmering through a tiny opening on the far wall of the hidden room. A way out. “Time to go.”

“Now you’re in a hurry?”

“Don’t you want to find out if this map’s authentic?”

She sighed. “I’m more interested in warm, dry clothes.”

“Do you realize what we may have found?”

“We? Just you, my brother. Avalon? The Holy Grail? A cure for cancer? The idea is more than crazy. It’s nonsense. But knowing you, you’ll find a way to follow that map to Avalon.”

“If the star map pans out, you’ll want first dibs on the story—don’t deny it.”

“You’re a restless, adventure-seeking fool. That stupid map is going to take you straight to outer space.”

He could only hope.

As they deny the world, not only in the spirit realm but in the material plane, the world will cease to exist.

—THE LADY OF THE LAKE

1

“I’ll be happy to do more of that after I get you out of here,” he murmured and ran his fingers up her arm to her trapped wrist. “Hmm. I’ve got a screwdriver in my back pocket. Think you can reach it?”

She licked her bottom lip and moved her free hand across his firm hip to his curved buttock. Her fingers itched to explore. After all, she had to find his pocket, didn’t she?

“Try a little higher, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice amused.

“If you want to live, don’t call me that,” she said in her best High Priestess voice. But instead of sounding authoritative, her tone was breathy and light.

She fumbled her fingers over his buttock, enjoying the hard muscle and the sensuous curve, and finally found and unsnapped the pocket. Oh… my. The material inside that pocket was so thin she was almost touching his bare, warm flesh. At the thought, her breasts tingled and, certain he could feel her nipples hardening against him, she flushed.

“What should I call you?” he teased.

She hesitated. If she told him her name, he might not finish freeing her. “I’ll introduce myself once we’re out of this mess.”

“Honey, we’re way beyond the need for formal introductions—not when your sexy little hand is grabbing my ass.”

She snatched the screwdriver from his pocket. “Got it.”

He gave instructions with an easy self-confidence that told her he was enjoying himself. “Reach up my back, over my shoulder, and place the screwdriver into my hand.”

She did as he asked and found herself admiring his broad back, the muscular shoulders. She was wrapped around him, and the feel of his hard male body had her trembling. She hadn’t known a man could feel so good.

His maleness was erotic, exotic. Exciting. Her blood rushed though her veins with a heat that made her feel more alive than she’d felt since she’d first taken to the skies in flight.

“You’re awfully quiet.” The rough texture of his words was almost as exciting as his muscles straining over her. “Am I too heavy?”

Too heavy? He was perfect.

She swallowed hard. “How much longer…”

“Until we’re done unscrewing? Now, there’s a question I haven’t been asked before.” She could hear the grin in his wry tone and was grateful when he changed the subject. “How’d you get stuck in here, anyway?”

Every time he turned the screwdriver, his pecs tensed against her breasts and his erection pressed hot against her thigh.

She tried to distract herself by talking. “I thought I heard a bird trapped in here.”

did recognize her—“I wouldn’t mind if more than my fate was in your hands.”

LUCAN HAD SCREWED UP. So much for keeping a low profile. He knew better than to flirt with any woman… much less Pendragon’s High Priestess. So much for taking an inconspicuous walk around the complex to clear his head. What had he been thinking?

That she was soft and toned. That her hair was like silk. And her scent… her scent reminded him of summer rain. Lucan had seen some unusual things during his thirty-two years, but nothing as unsettling as Cael’s irises, which he could have sworn had flared with tiny golden flames.

“Get back to work,” he told himself.

He couldn’t let the experience sidetrack him. It didn’t matter that she was the most fascinating woman he’d met… ever. Or that every time he closed his eyes the memory of her soft curves pressing against him made him forget how much work he had to do. And how little time he had left to do it.

His career had taken him to dozens of ancient archeological sites and thrown many puzzles his way. But Lucan had not spent five years flying across the galaxy, then three more learning a new language and establishing himself as a respected Dragonian linguist, to settle for anything less than the Grail. He’d endured years without the companionship of his friends and family, the taste of spicy Buffalo wings and cold Corona, the smoky sounds of hot jazz and the smooth roar of his Classic Harley, deprivations he’d tolerated, all for the sake of finding the Grail.

He shifted his gaze to the large observation port that filled one side of the lab. Just beyond the wall of glass and illuminated by floodlights, Avalon punched into the night sky, an alien gray marble obelisk. Only a third of the massive structure was visible above ground, and the entire edifice was shielded by a mysterious energy that allowed no one and nothing to penetrate its secrets. Lucan was certain the Grail lay behind the shielded wall.

“The answer to breaking through that shield has to be right here in front of me.” He scowled at a copy of the ancient, alien glyphs that the Avalon team had discovered on the obelisk’s wall earlier the previous day.

These same glyphs were on the star map he’d found on Earth, suggesting that there had been travel between Earth and Pendragon over fifteen hundred years ago. According to Arthurian legends, King Arthur left the Grail in Avalon. But this Avalon was across the galaxy from Earth. The idea seemed outrageous, yet Lucan couldn’t ignore the facts. This moon bore Arthur’s last name. And the ancient Dragonians had named the imposing obelisk Avalon.

Coincidence? Lucan didn’t think so.

“Think.” He glared at the symbols, willing them to respond. Was he looking at an alphabet, or did the glyphs stand for individual sounds? “What are you hiding? What’s your secret?”

“If only I had a coin for every time someone asked me those questions.”

Ho General Brennon’s newest satellite data show that the expanding sinkhole has weakened the area so much that it may be dangerous to bring down the shields.”

“How dangerous?”

“The shields are reinforcing Avalon’s stability. If the ancient walls collapse, the adjoining part of the city might fall into the cavity.”

Lucan’s eyes narrowed. “So what’s he want us to do? Give up?”

“We won’t.” Her curious gaze settled on his desk and the copy of the runes. Her eyes, a startling mix of old soul and pure innocence, drew him in. “Are you any closer to an answer?”

He set his cup aside and chose his words carefully. If he gave Cael a reason to report anything suspicious, Sir Quentin, Avalon’s chief archeologist and head of the government’s Division of Lost Artifacts, would take her seriously.

“I’m no closer to translating the glyphs than when we uncovered them yesterday afternoon.”

Despite years of study in ancient runes and hieroglyphics, he hadn’t been able to make any sense of the connection between his map and ancient Avalon.

“You might want to give yourself more than a day to solve one of our moon’s ancient puzzles.” With an encouraging raise of her brow, she moved aside several of his books, and together they finished mopping up the spilled tea. When their hands accidentally touched, his flesh tingled in response. Her violet gaze jerked toward his in surprise. “You’re driving yourself too hard.”

That was so not his problem. The only thing too hard around here, suddenly, was his dick.

Damn it. Not now. He needed to play this cool. He bristled, then tried to hide his reaction. But a telltale flicker in her eyes told him she’d noted his irritation.

The lady was perceptive. Too perceptive? He raked back his hair to give him time to cool his jets. The last thing he needed was her ordering him to come in for a checkup. “I’m sure I look like hell. But a shower and a shave should—”

Cael placed her hand on his shoulder. “Relax.” What was she up to? She seemed to be deliberately touching him now, and it occurred to him that she was scanning him with her empathic ability.

He prayed to God she couldn’t read his mind, then forced himself to relax. She read feelings, not thoughts. For now, his real identity was still safe. And if she was picking up any of his lusty yearnings, she was pretending otherwise.

Cael knelt, scooped the rest of his books from the floor, and placed them back on his desk. “I won’t send you to the medical bay—”

“Thanks.”

“If you promise to sleep for a few hours—”

“Agreed.”

“In your bed. Not at your desk.” She smiled, perhaps to take the sting ohead to one side and shot her his most charming grin. “You want to come tuck me in?”

Damn it. He’d been keeping the conversation on a professional level, and then he’d blown it again. He kept forgetting Cael was not just a colleague. No Dragonian he knew would venture such an innuendo with the High Priestess, even in jest. But then, he doubted any other man had shared an air duct with her, either.

When she placed her hands on her hips and frowned, he thought she was offended. Then the corner of her mouth quirked to form a saucy grin. “Will that be necessary? My tucking you in?”

Necessary? No. Pleasurable? Oh, yeah. He envisioned her leaning over him, her eyes widening as he tugged her into his arms for a kiss.

Stop. He had to stop fantasizing. Stop looking at her.

He cast his eyes down to his desk. “Maybe if I hit the sack, the answer will come to me in my dreams.” Fat chance. He was going to toss and turn. And think about her.

“I’m glad you’re optimistic. It’s terrible to think these glyphs might be our last chance…”

She looked worried, and not asking what was on her mind took all his willpower.

He cleared his throat and put the remaining items on his desk to rights, willing her to step away so the rainy scent of her hair didn’t flood his lungs, so the light in her eyes didn’t dazzle, so her lips weren’t close enough to tempt him.

Too much was at stake to think about anything but his mission. He must have been more tired than he’d realized. But exhaustion was no excuse. What the hell was wrong with him? And what was wrong with her? He might have admired her long, long legs and flowing blond mane since he’d arrived at the lab, but she’d never shown him more than a passing glance.

When she spoke, Cael’s voice was low and silvery, threaded with sorrow. “You know, finding the Grail means… everything… to me, too.”

Looking away, perhaps deliberately avoiding his gaze, she fingered her necklace beneath her tunic’s collar. “My nephew… is sick. He’s”—her voice broke—“only five.”

The hint of desperation in her voice revealed a deep, black agony. One he knew all too well. “You can’t heal him?”

She shook her head, her fingers rubbing the necklace. “I shouldn’t have said anything. The last thing you need is more pressure. I’m sorry.”

Lucan nodded in understanding. “My sister’s unable to have a child. All her life she’s wanted to be a mother, and her dream was ripped away. I’d hoped the Grail…”

Marisa’s doctors had eventually declared her barren after the last miscarriage, and watching her be torn apart by grief was almost more than Lucan could handle. More and more people on Earth were being given the same diagnosis. Infertility was reaching epidemic proportions. Wng, turning over Avalon to the military’s control.”

Lucan wondered if Quentin and Cael would stay to help the military. With tensions high over the Grail’s potential powers and who would control them, the Dragonians had excavated Avalon in a series of stops and starts for centuries, barely avoiding a civil war in the process.

“Perhaps you can negotiate more time for us?” Shaw asked Cael.

She shook her head, her hair swirling around her shoulders, her voice musical but firm. “Satellite data support Brennon’s claim that the underground cavity is growing. Time is running out.”

Shaw grimaced. “Then I suppose we shall have to move on, as Sir Quentin suggested, to more drastic measures.”

Finally. At last some action.

Lucan looked across the room at Rion, an astrophysicist with a reputation for innovation and a man whom he would have liked to call friend. Rion had seemed certain their latest efforts were about to pay off, and he had an uncanny reputation for knowing how matters would turn out. Some chalked up his ability to luck, others to clairvoyance. Rion himself was mum on the subject. The two men exchanged a look, and Lucan nodded.

Rion cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. “We could attack the shield with a high-level laser burst.”

Although laser technology was common on Earth, on Pendragon the device was still theoretical.

“Did you computer-model it?” Shaw asked, immediately interested.

Rion cast a glance at Lucan. “Actually, the prototype was finished yesterday. Seems our linguistics expert has a wicked talent with cutting-edge technology.”

Lucan opened his desk drawer to retrieve the prototype, placed the device on a work counter, and set the control. By building the laser, he’d taken a risk of blowing his cover, but only a small one. Language experts weren’t expected to have the knowledge to build a highly sophisticated laser, but Lucan’s fake résumé claimed that his Dragonian father owned a robotics plant, and Lucan dabbled at inventions.

While the other team members surrounded him, ohhing and ahhing at the laser, Rion and Cael spoke quietly. Lucan found it interesting that Rion didn’t seem to fear Cael as the others did. Taller than Cael by a foot, Rion had to bend down for them to put their heads together. Her blond hair contrasted against Rion’s darkness, reminding Lucan of when he’d freed her from the vent. How soft she’d felt against his hardness.

“The beam’s stable?” Shaw asked, leaning over the device.

Lucan moved a rolling display board to reveal a gaping hole in the lab’s wall. “I tested it last night.”

“Are you certain there are no harmful side effects?” Quentin asked.

Lucan shrugged. “Ninety percent certainv>
“Faith?” When it came to Cael, his thoughts were anything but spiritual. Reminding himself that he had to stay neutral and ignore the heat and pull of his attraction, he tore his gaze from her very full, very tempting mouth to look her in her eyes. “I’m a man of science. I know that shield can be breached. I just wish I understood how it works.”

“The Goddess says to choose our wishes with care, because once we attain our wishes, we may not be pleased with the outcome.”

Usually it took a lot more than a pretty smile—okay, a dynamite smile—and an encouraging word to gain his attention. But Cael’s presence packed a feminine punch that rocked him to the core. Once again, he was instantly, insanely, inexplicably hard.

She raised an eyebrow. “What about legends? Do you believe in them?”

Legends? He’d always been a sucker for a legend. Ever since he’d arrived on Pendragon, he’d been on the lookout for tales of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, but he’d found only place names that teased his imagination.

“Tell me a legend.”

As if sensing his keen interest, Cael perched a hip against the nearest desk and settled in for a conversation. Her unique scent, sweet and crisp, broke through the odor of recycled air. He had the sudden urge to bury his nose in her hair and inhale deeply, but he squelched the instinct.

“Perhaps legend is the wrong word. Haven’t you ever heard of the Book of Jede?”

“Nope.”

“The Book of Jede is a fairy tale.” She laughed, a warm, enticing sound that cascaded over him like a warm shower. “I heard it first from my grandmother when I was about three.”

“I’ve never heard the tale.” He tried to imagine Cael at the age of three. Curly-headed. Tiny. Curious. But he couldn’t do it. The vibrant woman she was now dominated his thoughts.

“You want me to believe in fairy tales?” Lucan grinned.

Cael scooted her cute little backside onto the desk and crossed her exquisite legs. “What kind of childhood did you have?”

“The usual.” He shrugged, keeping his voice down and glancing around the room. Rion was deep in discussion with a biologist. Quentin and Shaw were still arguing, albeit less heatedly. The rest of the team continued to pore over the laser’s schematics. Nevertheless, Lucan still didn’t want to speak about his false past and counterfeit identity.

Cael peered at him, a stare that tried to pierce the soul. He held her gaze, a tad bit longer than he should have. “We need to get back to work.” Now, that was lame. But damned if he could think straight with her drillht="0em" width="27">“When the universe formed,” she began, “there was darkness. Only darkness. Blackness from here to eternity. But then the Goddess seeded the universe with stars, bringing precious light and life.”

“And what does that have to do with—”

“Hush. I’m getting to that.” She shifted on the desk, her skirt rising to just below the knee, and as she slid off her shoe and rocked it on her toes, her calf tensed. The sight of her smooth, tanned legs made his mouth go dry and he swallowed hard.

“Go on,” he urged.

The sooner she finished the story, the sooner she would leave. And she most definitely had to give him some room.

If he’d eaten recently, he would have suspected his food had been drugged, because every sense in his body had gone wacky. If he’d been alone, he might have sought release from the sexual tension and taken matters into his own hands. If he’d been on an uncivilized world, he might have thrown her over his shoulder and carried her straight to his bed.

Lucan did none of those things, of course. But as Cael spoke, her words didn’t simply tell a story, they coaxed the blood in his veins to race double time. The seam in his pants had grown so tight he feared he might suffer a permanent indentation. And stranger still, he couldn’t have stood and walked away to save his life.

“After the stars lit the heavens, the blackness faded. Worlds warmed, life grew. Animals and people evolved. But the blackness never lost to the light. The blackness only retreated. On Pendragon, a woman named Jede claimed to honor the Goddess, but in truth, in the search for immortality, she practiced the dark ways. To teach Jede a lesson, the Goddess sent her two gifts.”

“Gifts are punishment?” He frowned.

“The first gift was eternal life. All Jede had to do to live forever was to obey the Goddess. The Goddess told her never to open the second gift.”

“But she did?” Lucan had heard similar legends in many cultures. Strange how often that happened. Earth had the story of Pandora’s box. Pendragon had the Book of Jede.

“Jede lived long enough to bury her husband, her children, and her grandchildren. She remarried, had another family, and buried them, too. After many thousands of years, she had wealth, comfort, all the things she’d always believed were so important, but she still wasn’t happy. She grew bored, lonely. She decided the Goddess hadn’t given her a gift at all, but had cursed her. The pain of outliving those she loved ate away at her soul. Believing death would end her pain, she opened the second gift, assuming death would be the punishment for disobeying the Goddess.”

“What was inside? Did she lose her immortality?”

“A Goddess never takes back her gifts. She kept her promise of immortality, but she wasn’t cruel. Inside the box was a spell that turned Jede into a dragonshaper.”

“A dragonshaper?” He frowned again. “I don’t understand.”

“Aas a dragon Jede wouldn’t suffer the loss of those she loved. Because as a dragonshaper she’d never be allowed the kind of love and family she’d enjoyed as a woman.”

“Why did you tell me this story?”

“I believe that like Jede the dragon, who got her wish, we will eventually get ours and break through the shielding. I just fear that, like Jede, when we get what we thought we wanted—”

“We won’t like what we find?”

“Now you understand.”

He supposed he did. Yet her fairy tale would not deter him. He’d come too far to back off because of a children’s story.

She angled her head, and her collar parted, revealing the choker necklace he’d glimpsed earlier. The spectacular gems in a multitude of sparkling colors had to be worth a fortune. But it wasn’t the stones or their value that made him suck in his breath.

The stones were embedded in metal.

And holy hell. The metal was engraved with an Anglo-Saxon alphabet, runes.

Lucan stared at the necklace, his mouth gaping. He couldn’t be certain from a glance, but it looked as if someone had inscribed other symbols beneath the runes, symbols that reminded him of the ones he’d seen on the star map, as well as on Avalon’s exterior wall. It was as if he was looking at two languages. Runes from Earth—which meant he’d be able to decipher them—and the glyphs from Pendragon.

Please… God. Let Cael’s necklace be the key he needed to read the code. Frantic, he reached for a piece of paper and pen. “Don’t move, Cael. Please let me draw—”

“Drawing my likeness is not permitted.”

He sketched with fierce, swift strokes. “I’m not drawing you. Just the symbols on your necklace.”

She reached up to her neck. “I don’t understand.”

“Please, don’t talk. Don’t move.” Lucan sketched what he saw. But with every line, every rune, his excitement mounted. He stared at her necklace, then the paper on his desk, making sure he’d made no mistakes, and then he darkened the runes—making the glyphs stand out in stark relief. “Where did you get that necklace?”

“It’s ancient and has been passed down from High Priestess to High Priestess for centuries.” Cael shot an odd look at him. “Are you reading those symbols?”

“Give me a minute.” Ignoring the runes, he stared at the glyphs, alien glyphs that were so close to the ones on Avalon’s walls his heart battered his ribs with agitation.

Picking up the paper, he sprinted to the port that looked out on Avalon. He held up the paper, placing it against the glass so that it appeared next to the glyphs on the obelisk. “They match. Exactly. They match.”

Cael peered phew, whose condition was worsening by the day. Just yesterday she’d spoken to Jaylon, and he’d sounded so weak. He’d made her promise to visit soon and to bring the Grail. She prayed to the Goddess that she could keep both promises.

Outside the window, Avalon dominated the view, a dark, massive stone building of mystery. The momentous occasion had upset her equilibrium and had her mind whirling, her nerves rattled. For so long she’d yearned for the healing powers of the Grail. So why were her feet rooted to the floor, reluctant to move? She should have been elated.

Maybe it was natural to worry. As long as Avalon’s shield had stood, Cael could hope that someday they might find a way inside. Someday they might find the Grail.

“That powder is an accelerant.”

She shuddered, her gut swirling with fear. “This fire… it’s no accident…” She met Lucan’s worried gaze. “I think it’s an attack. The military must have learned we dropped the shields.”

“They want the Grail,” Lucan muttered.

“Or they don’t want us to have it?” she suggested as he pulled her deeper into the shadows. “They may have even started the fire.”

“Hell, they may have caused the sinkhole.”

She peered over his shoulder at the airships, noting how he shielded her with his body.

Lucan twisted the handle to the door of an annex to the lab. “This fire’s their excuse to take over.”

“We have to warn Shaw.”

“The door’s locked.”

She removed her communicator from her pocket and watched while Lucan slid a screwdriver from his boot and attempted to jimmy the station door. She tried contacting Shaw, then Quentin. When neither answered, she swore under her breath. “The military must be jamming signals.”

“This way,” Lucan said. “Once we find Shaw, we’ll tell him that the scientists have been betrayed. Then we’ll find a way to protect Avalon.”

Betrayed? Of course. General Brennon must have had a spy on the scientific team. Someone must have notified him the minute that they’d eliminated the shield and now… the flames were spreading like the wind.

Why hadn’t the alarms sounded? Had the military jammed those, too? Did that mean the fire units wouldn’t respond? With the fire starting on the north end of the complex, the scientists inside still might not know what was happening.

When the lock gave, she shoved past Lucan, entered the building, and took stock of their situation. The lights were out, so the backup generators hadn’t kicked in. She sniffed but didn’t take in so much as a whiff of smoke. Either the internal air scrubbers were independent of the backup generators and removing the fumes, or the fire hadn’t reached this far.

“This way.” Taking Lucan’s hand, she led him down the hallway. How easy that small gesture of reaching out to him seemed. How natural. She could easily become used to touching. And being touched.

“You can see in the dark?” He was squinting through his glasses.

His question stopped her cold.

He had no idea what she was.

There was no other explanation.

“I’ve always had great eyesight.” She spoke light="27">“We have to get off the site. And hide until we figure out what to do.” Lucan’s voice was low and harsh from the smoke.

Hiding wouldn’t be easy. Everyone on the moon recognized her face.

One thing at a time.

Behind her to the right, fire flared and shot hellish sparks into the charred ceiling. Automatically, she turned left down a hallway, but the burning wreckage of a collapsed ceiling blocked the way. At her sudden halt, Lucan ran into her, grabbed her waist to keep her from falling. “Sorry.”

They couldn’t go right or left. The hallways were burning. The flames flaring. Fiery debris rained onto the floors. She raised her voice to be heard above the fire’s crackle. “We have to backtrack.”

From behind, fire roared down the hallway toward them. She tried to open the door beside her. It was locked. With nowhere to escape, no vast open space where she could dragonshape into a form that could save them, she braced for death. Prayed it would be quick.

A tremendous crash sounded beside her. Lucan had kicked open the locked door. He yanked her into the room and slammed the door shut as the backdraft whizzed past.

She gasped and inhaled the reek of old garbage and cleaning supplies. In the darkness, she made out shelving and brooms, mops, pails, and paint buckets.

She searched for an exit. Didn’t see one. It was entirely possible they’d come through the room’s only access. Had they merely delayed the inevitable? Not even her unusual strength could break through the steel girders that framed the ceilings and floors of this building. “We’re trapped.”

“Where exactly?”

She wished she could shut down her heightened sense of smell. One of the disadvantages to superior senses was that when a smell was bad, it almost overpowered her ability to think. This stench was almost knocking her out. Then the fire would… Stop it. She took short, shallow breaths. “We’re in the janitorial unit.”

He stepped forward, feeling his way along the walls. “Maybe there’s a back door?”

“There isn’t. I can see the rear wall.”

He remained calm, his tone thoughtful. Even more impressive, she didn’t sense even a hint of panic. He wasn’t faking calm. He was calm, undefeated. “Tell me what else you see.”

“Cooling conduits.” His steadiness helped settle her claustrophobia. Usually, she was okay with the fact that she didn’t have room to dragonshape, yet with her life in danger, the walls felt as if they were closing in. “Maybe if we pry off the vent—”

“What else?”

Interesting that he didn’t jump at the first option. “There’s a vacuum system. And a service elevator.” She tugged him forward. “Over here.”

He pounded on the doors of the service elevator. “Where does this go?”

“I have no idea. But the power’s off. We can’t take the elevator anywhere because it doesn’t have a manual override. At least not one I can see.” She turned around, searching the stacked trash bags. “But there’s a garbage chute over here somewhere that might take us to the basement.”

Lucan joined her search and started flinging aside bags to clear a path toward the wall. The room grew hotter and began to glow. She worked alongside him and prayed the flames wouldn’t reach them.

She wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. Not when she’d found a man who didn’t fear her. Who treated her… like a woman.

Lucan worked with fast and powerful efficiency, grabbing heavy bags with each hand and tossing them aside. Sweat streaked his brow, but he didn’t slow his pace. She managed to move only two bags at a time. The stench made her stomach roil. Her back ached. The muscles in her arms burned. But she dared not rest, even for a moment.

Perspiration soaked under her arms, down her back, and between her breasts. The trash bag straps cut into her palms. But the discomfort was nothing compared to what they’d suffer if the flames reached them. The crackling fire at the door behind them and the increasing heat spurred her efforts.

“Found it.” Lucan shoved aside one last trash bag and pulled open the chute’s door. “Get in.”

Again his gallantry of putting her first made her feel feminine—even if she stank like a dead fish. But perhaps she would be the first to die. Cael had no idea if the chute would drop them into the heart of the fire.

The ceiling started to smolder. Any place was better than here. She stepped forward. Lucan held out his hand to help her climb into the chute. Without hesitation, she took his hand, wondering if this was the last time she’d ever touch him.

“You’ll have to lie down. Feet first,” he instructed, all business. Then his veneer cracked, allowing her to sense his deep concern about sending her down the chute.

“Cross your arms over your chest.” She did as he commanded, wishing she knew what he was thinking. But she knew what he was feeling. Eyes smoldering, he looked at her mouth, leaning closer until his perfect face was a mere inch from hers. It was crazy how much she wanted him to kiss her. And then for one too-brief moment, he pressed his lips to hers.

Her first kiss. Filthy, stinky, scared, she nevertheless marveled at the sweet sensation. Her lips welcomed the pressure, and when he pulled back, she ached for more.

He grinned. “Good luck, princess.”

“Priestess,” she corrected automatically, but she doubted he heard.

He’d closed the chute, tipping her body downward. She began to slide. It grew so dark not even her keen eyesight could discern any light. She picked up speed, and friction began to warm her calves, the backs of her thighs, her bottom.t crashed through a hinged door and she was airborne.

Above all, have fear of traitors, for they creep in the dark, burn the cities, ravage the heart, and steal the souls of men.

—ARTHUR PENDRAGON

4

Lucan wanted to wait until he could be sure Cael cleared the chute. Around him, the ceiling buckled.

Fire shot across the floor. His heavier weight would make him fall faster, but he couldn’t delay any longer. He jumped into the trash chute with fire licking at his back.

He yanked the chute door closed and let gravity do its job. Was he jumping from the fire into an inferno? Would he land in the middle of a burning slag heap? Would Cael be waiting for him at the bottom, or had she been injured in the descent?

If these were his last moments, he wanted to go out with the memory of her lips against his. But even more, as he surged through the black chute, picking up speed, he wanted to live to kiss her again.

His body dropped, the friction heating his flesh, and he spread his feet, using the soles of his boots against the sides of the chute to slow his progress. There was no point to surviving the fire only to smash his bones when he reached bottom.

He went from filthy metal surrounding him to… midair and blackness. Falling, gut swooping, he flailed, trying to catch hold of something in the darkness. Anything to stop his fall. But his fingers grasped nothing but air.

His free fall ended in a jarring crash onto his back that knocked the oxygen from his chest. Something hard poked his shoulder. Something gooey and rank oozed down his neck.

“Lucan?” Cael’s voice pulled him back from a close encounter with unconsciousness.

But he couldn’t respond right away. Not until his head stopped spinning, not until his lungs drew in air. Through the blackness, he reached for Cael, but he touched only plastic bags. More garbage.

“Lucan?” she called again. “Tell me you aren’t hurt. Talk to me, damn it.”

Finally his chest muscles relaxed, allowing him to draw in a much-needed breath. The stench almost overpowered him, but he managed a whisper. “I’m here.”

She found him in the darkness. Her hands touched his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” He shook off his grogginess. She’d taken the same route, suffered the same jarring landing. How was it that she sounded so unaffected?

“You don’t sound so good.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated. Gritting his teeth, he shoved up from the mess onto his feet, not an easy task in the unstable garbage. “But you sound as fresh as if you just rolled out of bed.”

She didn’t respond to his innuendo. As usual, she didn’t talk about herself and switched the conversation back to him. Concern deepened her voice. “Your neck’s bleeding.”

“Just scratches.” Automatically, he attempted to push his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. But he’d lost them during the fall.

“Here.” She shoved the glasses into his hand.

“Thanks.” He put them on, but he still couldn’t see beyond the blackness. “Where are we?”

“I’m not sure. Since there aren’t any windows, I’m guessing we’re in the basement.”

His eyes teared as they strained to see, then began to adjust to the darkness until he could make out shadowy areas against inky blackness. “Let’s do a perimeter check. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a door.”

She stood, but a bag popped under her foot and he heard the sound of her body hitting plastic. She didn’t gasp or complain—not even about the foulness. “Maybe we should crawl?”

“Good idea.” He listened to her movements and reached for where he thought her leg to be. “I’m holding on to you so we stay together.”

“This way.” She began to creep over the bags. Some had come down the chute whole. Many had spilled. He prayed they weren’t slithering through contaminated chemicals.

Girding himself, he moved forward. After what seemed like endless crawling, she stopped. “I’ve hit the wall.”

“You still on top of garbage?”

“Yes. Apparently the entire level’s one gigantic incineration bin.” She sounded more weary than frightened. “There’s no way out.”

He refused to believe that. “There’s always a way.”

They circled the perimeter for what seemed like a long time before stopping. Hot, thirsty, and tired, he slumped against the wall for a rest. He would not give up. He hadn’t come this far to die in a garbage dump.

“Is it getting warmer in here?” she asked, her voice rising in concern.

He wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his wrist. “We just need a rest.”

“It is heating up.”

Lucan realized it wasn’t as dark as it had been before. A faint red glow was emanating from beneath the garbage. Uh-oh. “The incinerator’s burning the trash.”

“And us along with it?”

Sweat soaked him. Within the last few seconds, the temperature had shot up twenty degrees.

He started tearing open the bags of trash. “We need to find something heavhe turned down the music and cast him a puzzled glance. “This skimmer doesn’t have a back seat.”

Damn. He needed to be careful. Sure, he’d become fluent in Dragonian, but some idioms didn’t translate well.

“Hold on.” To distract her, he stepped on the gas, slid out through the exit, and lifted them straight up into the night sky.

She braced a hand against the dash. “I don’t have to worry about the military killing us. Your driving’s going to do that for them.”

He laughed, careened upward through the garage exit, and steered through thick black smoke. To avoid crashing, he relied on the sensors, veering right, then left, making steep banking turns and several dives.

She peered over her shoulder. “The military’s going to pick us up on radar.”

Once clear of the smoke, he could merge into one of the lanes in the traffic grid above the city. But first, he had to fly there undetected.

Lucan reached under the dash and ripped out a few wires. “There.”

“What have you done?” Cael’s eyes widened.

“No one can track us now.” He banked the skimmer sideways and joined the high-speed lane. Zigzagging past the other skimmers, he poured on more acceleration.

“Were you a thief or a racer in your last life?” she asked.

Survival was exhilarating. He laughed. “Two of my three favorite things are tinkering and fast driving.”

“And your third favorite thing?” she asked innocently.

He tried for a devastating grin. “Hot sex.”

She blanched but finally found her voice. “I played right into that, didn’t I?”

Damn it. What was it about her that kept making him forget his cover? Maybe it was the shared danger. Or that she’d kissed him back before he’d dropped her down the trash chute. Or the fact that it had been way too long since he’d been with a woman.

After several sharp turns and two level changes, a glance at his GPS revealed clear skies behind him and no sign of military ships following.

He gave her a sideways glance. “So how did you blast us out of there?”

Cael frowned, then leaned back in her seat, a resigned look in her eyes. “When you were a child, what schools did you attend?”

“What does that have to do with you blasting us out?” he asked.

“I’ll get there. Just answer me, please.”

“Fine.” He kicked the cruiser into the stratosphere, where there was little traffiult years. Who would have thought anyone would ask details about his childhood? He decided to stick to the truth, modify it only when he had to. “I was home schooled.”

“By your father?”

“Mom and Dad shared the task, and my aunt and uncle had a hand in my education, too. I also hit the computers pretty heavily. Why?”

“Because you’re a nonbeliever.”

“I am?”

“Your parents never took you to the Icons?”

Oh, Lord. What were the Icons? She must have read the blank look on his face.

“Religion?” she prodded.

Oh. “My parents believe that good and evil comes from within—although they do pray to a higher power.”

“So they don’t honor the dragonshapers?” she asked as they flew into a dense cloud that wrapped them in white fog.

Honor dragonshapers? That would be difficult, since they’d never heard of dragonshapers. He couched his reply in the most polite tone he could muster. “My folks never mentioned them. And although I’ve heard legends—”

“It’s more than a legend.”

“Really? You’ve seen a dragonshaper like in the Book of Jede?”

She laughed. “Actually I haven’t seen a live dragon. But other people have.”

At least she hadn’t been insulted by his question. Religion was a touchy subject on most worlds.

“You should do that more often.” Her face lit up when she grinned, making her look relaxed and carefree. Sometimes Cael appeared to carry the weight of the world on her slender shoulders.

“Do what more often?”

“Laugh.”

“Really?” She turned toward him, her purple irises dark with a flicker of golden heat.

Damn, he could drown in those eyes. He wondered what color they’d turn if he kissed her again. Made love to her. “Oh, yeah. When you laugh, you don’t sound like a High Priestess or a healer.”

“But that’s who I am.”

“No, that’s what you do.” He shrugged. “There’s a woman hiding behind those titles. And I like her.”

At his compliment, he could have sworn her eyes glowed a soft golden color, but it could have been a glint of starlight coming through the fog.

“We were talking about dragonshaping,” she prompted, but her tone was softer, relaxed.

Why did she insist on changing the subject? “I’d rather talk about our brush with death.”

She no longer possessed her higher powers of reasoning, but she remembered the human male. Her keen eyes picked him out amid the falling debris. With a giant flap of her wings, she soared toward him. Smelled his blood.

Too much blood. Was he already dead? She timed her drop and swoop to come up beneath him and settled his weight on her back. Hold. Hold on.

His hand gripped her neck. Who are you?

His thoughts resounded in her brain. She almost bucked him off. Never had anyone put a thought in her head. Spoken to her mind to mind. But the man was important. Injured. Needed to rest and heal. And her dragon brain had not the words to answer his question.

Instead, she flew to safety. Hang on.

The shiny metal markings in the sky flew closer. They fired blasts that stung her flesh. Annoyed, she turned her head, roared her fury and rage, and incinerated the machines in one searing blast of fire.

Where are we going?

To the nest.

A beach image entered her mind. The man wanted to go to that beach. She’d flown there once. Too remote. Too hot. No.

Yes. He sounded weak.

She shook her head and flew to the nest. It had been too long. Much too long. She needed to go home.

During the flight, the man’s grip on her back weakened. Expending much energy, she spread her wingspan and increased her speed, until the rush of wind made her hearts beat faster. The cold, thin air at the high altitude invigorated her, as did the reappearance of her old friend Merlin.

The owl had appeared out of nowhere and now flew at her wing, his presence lending her strength and reminding her that, like the owl, she was born for this climate and night flying. But the man was fragile. She must fly him to warmth. To the nest.

Hours later, Merlin still at her wingtip, she spied the nest in a remote mountain ridge, high and steep. She circled the nest twice in search of danger. Sometimes men with guns climbed here. So far none had ascended high enough to invade the nest. But now men hunted her and the human male. She had to make certain not to fly into a trap.

Exhausted from the long trip, knowing she still had much work to do, she landed in a gentle glide, careful not to spill the man from her back. Only after landing did she shrug her wings, tilting the human until he slumped to one side and tumbled into the snow. Then she humanshaped.

Naked in the freezing air, Cael did a cursory examination of Lucan’s injuries. The sight of the snow, stained with blood from his wounds, filled her with despair, and her fear for his survivalgn.

When she opened his eyes to check his pupils, he didn’t react.

He was dying.

The knowledge crushed her, consumed her. Biting back a cry of anguish, she almost doubled over, racked by the certainty she was losing him.

He needed blood. And the only blood here was hers.

But she had dragonblood, sacred blood, a genetic anomaly. Giving her blood was forbidden by custom and law.

Giving her blood was wrong.

But he didn’t deserve to die. Tormented, she rocked back onto her heels, feeling as if her hearts were being clawed from her chest. How could she not do everything in her power to save him?

It’s still wrong.

Again she checked his pulse. It was slower, weaker. She gasped, succumbing to despair and frustration. Without her blood he wouldn’t regain consciousness. She’d never speak with him again. Never laugh with him again. Never touch him again. He would die.

His life force was almost gone.

Smoothing back his hair, blinded by terrible panic, she felt her thoughts whirl. If he died, if she didn’t do everything she could to save him, she would have to spend the rest of her life without knowing him, without the possibility of a future that wasn’t so unbearably lonely.

Cael did not break customs lightly, but she couldn’t let Lucan die. After letting her cloak slide to the floor, she grabbed tubing and needles. She hooked their circulatory systems together so that her blood flowed into his veins. Both her hearts, as well as his, dispersed her blood. As he grew stronger, she grew weaker and cold.

Still, she ignored the exhaustion and chills, and she gave him more. Gave all his body would take. And when his color slowly returned to his cheeks, when his pulse strengthened, only then did she unhook the tubes connecting them. Exhausted physically and emotionally, she slumped. She could do no more except share her body’s warmth. Taking off her robe, she lay down naked by his side and cradled him in her arms.

LUCAN MUST HAVE passed out. When he awakened from a deep sleep, he found a warm, naked female spooned against him. He didn’t recognize his surroundings, a simple cave with stone walls and rough-hewn furniture, but he identified the scent of the woman, and his nostrils flared. Cael.

In contrast to the hard floor under him, Cael’s sensual curves felt velvety soft against him, and memories came rushing back. Sir Shaw’s murder. The fire. The incinerator. Cael holding his hand. Cael’s kiss. Her purple eyes smoldering with golden flames.

Being shot down.

Pain. Pain in his shoulder and radiating down his arm. Pain in his chest. His neck. Herink with the creature—a power he thought had disappeared years ago when he’d flown out of Earth’s solar system and left his twin behind. But his dream had nightmarishly twisted his telepathic link with Marisa to a mind link with a… dragon. And an owl had flown as the dragon’s wing man. Talk about bizarre.

The dragon images were intense, visceral. He recalled the frigid mountain air slicing him, the wind whipping by as he clung to the leathery scales of the dragon’s back. There’d been terrible pain in his shoulder. More pain mixed with images of Cael tending his wounds.

Wounds? Pain?

He flexed his shoulder. He had no pain. No wound. None.

Could she have healed him with some miraculous drug? Something he hadn’t heard about during his time on Pendragon? Legends on Earth endowed the mythical High Priestess of Avalon with all sorts of mystical healing powers.

Cael’s cheek lay pressed to his chest, her bare legs en-twined intimately with his beneath the robe that covered them both. His gaze wandered over her face, from her closed eyelids rimmed with long golden lashes, to her shoulders, to her lush breasts.

Suddenly Lucan had a more pressing need than finding answers to his questions. Heavy lust filled him. It was hungry and urgent, raw and primal. In that moment, he could think of nothing he wanted more than keeping Cael in his arms, kissing her, making love to her. With her palm resting lightly on his chest, her breast curving against his side, it was as if in sleep she was daring him to take her.

And take her he would. Lucan had never been much good at resisting temptation, and he saw no reason to change now. So what if she was High Priestess and touching her was forbidden? A man had to take some risks to feel alive. And a woman as lovely as Cael was worth a lot of risk.

In sleep she cuddled against him, the smooth caress of her skin on his proving there was nothing mythical about her. She was all female. And soft. So soft. Although her eyes remained closed, she was waking. Snuggled in his arms, her hair fanning the pillow, she tipped her face toward his, her lips curved in a smile.

Dipping his head, he kissed her mouth. With a soft moan, she parted her lips. “Mmm.”

He nibbled her lower lip and asked softly, “Where are we, hon?”

“The nest,” she answered sleepily. “It’s safe.” And then she kissed him again, her mouth drawing him closer, her tongue slipping shyly between his lips, feeding his hunger.

Between kisses, he asked, “How did we get here?”

She tugged his mouth back to hers. “Later. I’ll tell you later.”

Cael’s sleepy sexiness hit him with the intensity of a summer thunderstorm. Urgency slammed him. He had to have her. Now.

His lust flared white-hot, and he didn’t just ache with need. He was primed to explode.

God damn. He wanted to bite her. He wanted to plunge inside her. And thrust and thrust and thrust. Gritting his jaws to prevent the animalistic urge, he clamped his hands on her waist. As if sensing he might try to curb her pace, she stepped up her rhythm.

Too fast, too soon. He feared he wouldn’t last long enough even to sheathe his sex in her heat. He had to slow her. He needed a second to breathe, to regroup, to gain control of the tension gripping him. But as if sensing his intent, she shimmied her hips, taking him deep inside her in one giant thrust of heaven.

Mother of God! She was a virgin. He’d felt her barrier shred. And if he’d had any sense, he would give her body time to adjust. But before he could react, she reared up and slammed down on him again. Harder.

Her hands clenched his upper arms, but her strength was no match for his. He rolled, intending to end up on top, to take control of this madness, but she was fierce, using his momentum to tumble him again. He lost count of how many times they rolled across the floor. They knocked over a chair. A table toppled. Her nails clawed his back, drawing blood, but the sweet pain only increased the pounding primal urges. He forgot civilized. Gave in to the savage urge to sink his teeth into her shoulder.

“Yes,” she screamed and bit his earlobe. Blood trickled down his neck. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

He rammed into her with shocking need, and she clawed his hips, sucking him deeper, lifting her legs and hooking them around his back, so he could plunge deeper still. Every time he thrust in and out, she squeezed, and her slick heat shot him into a frenzy.

This was insane. Intense. He couldn’t draw air into his lungs fast enough. Slick with sweat, with no finesse, he pounded into her. Taking exactly what he wanted. Demanding everything she had.

She lifted her hips to match his cadence, meeting him thrust for thrust. The ache in his balls tightened to exquisite pain. Grinding his pelvis, he pumped hard. Fast. Deep. The roar in his ears matched the beat of his hips.

Her gyrations added fuel and fury to the mating, her strong thighs rising to meet his, urging him deeper. And when she spasmed and took her woman’s pleasure, he emptied into her with a giant roar, the bliss bursting from him in a white-hot bolt of magic lightning.

The Dragon is no different from the Serpent. Both are dangerous, cunning, and powerful.

—THE ELDERS

6

That was amazing.” Cael had felt pleasure greater than she’d ever imagined possible. No one had ever looked at her in such a bold, sensual way. She had never felt more important, more desired. The closeness they’d shared had been delicious, intimate, and so very satisfyIn fact, she couldn’t wait to do it again. And again.

She’d seen the way his eyes had smoldered as he’d paired with her. He seemed to want her as much as she wanted him. Just then Lucan turned to her and stared at the bite marks on her neck, his eyes widening in astonishment. He started to touch her skin, then jerked back his hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more gentle.”

She was the dragonshaper, and he was worried about hurting her? “You did nothing to my body that I did not enjoy.” She said the words slowly, willing him to believe her. But she could feel he was shaken by the intensity of their pairing. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know she was a dragonshaper.

For her to keep deceiving him was wrong when he didn’t know what was at stake. Although the idea of revealing her true nature frightened her, she couldn’t go on like this. The risk was huge, yet if they were to have any chance at a future together, he had to know what she was. To believe. His people might not know about dragonshaper destiny, but it was time he knew the truth. So this honorable man could make his own choices.

She just hoped he’d choose her.

Filled with tension, Cael found a robe for him, and after he donned the garment, she gestured toward the door. “Come outside with me. There’s something you need to see.”

“It’s freezing out there.” He glanced out to the snow-covered mountain peaks that surrounded the nest. “Just tell me.”

She snorted and raised her eyebrows. “You won’t believe me.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have no faith.”

He didn’t dispute her words. “And if I go outside with you, what will I see?”

“You will see a dragonshaper.” She held his gaze, feeling his disbelief war with his fierce curiosity.

Perhaps she should wait. Build a better bond with him before showing him… but that would be the coward’s way out.

“A dragonshaper?” He stepped toward her, then glanced at his now fully healed shoulder, and clearly, he remembered other things. “How can I believe in a dragonshaper when I don’t even know what it is?”

“A dragonshaper has the ability to change from human to dragon and vice versa.”

“Like in the Book of Jede?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You expect me to believe in a fairy tale?”

“Just the dragonshaping part.”

“And this dragonshaping, how exactly does it work?”

“We don’t know. The biological science is still a mystery.”

“I see.” He couldn’t keep the skepticism from his voice.

Clearly, he didn’t see. And he didn’t believe her. Even if filled with dread over how he would reac the proof he sought. She pointed to his shoulder, where his jagged wound had already healed. “You don’t even have a scar, but you slept for only a day and a half.”

He peered at the bite marks at her neck. “Your wounds are gone, too—just tiny scabs. You must have some really strong medicines to—”

“I didn’t give you any medicine.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I gave you dragonblood.”

“Dragonblood is an herb?” he asked.

He certainly knew how to make things difficult. “Dragonblood is blood from a dragon.”

“Right, a dragon flew by and you captured it, stole its blood, and put it on our wounds.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Sorry, I don’t believe in magic dragons.”

“Who said anything about magic?” Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that Lucan was a scientist. A linguist who knew how easily words could be used to deceive. She could only show him and hope he could deal with the truth. And in her hearts, she braced against the possibility that he might very well loathe and fear her once he learned her true nature. “Come with me.”

After pairing with him, she didn’t know how she would bear it if he feared to look her in the eyes. If he cringed at her touch. The risk she was taking made her stomach clench into knots. And it took all her self-discipline not to delay the inevitable.

More determined then ever to get this over with, she marched through the entrance into the freezing air. He didn’t hesitate to follow, yet kept his distance.

Cael stared at the steep rocky peaks of the mountains, breathed in the chilly air, allowed the cold snow beneath her feet to seep through her flesh, into her blood, and deeper into her bones.

“Look at me,” she commanded and dropped her robe.

CAEL STOOD NAKED before him. He sucked in a cold breath. Wild energy ripped through him, and suddenly, he had a raging hard-on.

He didn’t just yearn to hold Cael’s soft flesh against him, he had to have her again. Immediately. What the hell was wrong with him?

Cael frowned at him. “You’ve got to contain your emotions.”

“I don’t understand.” His passion was strong and building in intensity, like a brewing storm.

“Because your emotions… hurt.”

Damn. He kept forgetting she could feel his need. “My emotions are hurting you?”

Lips pressed tight, she nodded. Even in pain she was stunning. With her shoulders squared, her chin raised, her spine straight, her breasts lifted, and her nipples tight, she looked magnificent against the jag"0em">

Folding her legs and wings, Cael streamlined her body and dived straight for the animal she hunted. Plunging fast, her aim true, she seized the prey in her mouth, shook it hard. He heard, through their mind link, the snap as she broke its neck. And then with barely a break in her flight pattern, she opened her wings, caught an updraft, and circled back toward the nest.

With the meal clenched between massive jaws, she landed on the ridge, and he watched in fascination as her clawed feet gripped the icy ledge. She tossed her thick neck and flung the jasbit, a six-legged furry creature about the size of a deer, against a wall of rock.

Facing her prey, the dragon let out a mighty roar and then a burst of flame.

Once again she shapechanged, and, as the dragon folded in on itself, the mind link he’d shared with her snapped. In the blink of an eye, she stood before him naked, the blood on her lips the only sign of her predatory flight.

She shivered, raised her eyes to his, and cocked her head to one side. Lifting an eyebrow, she waited for him to speak, her expression as human as any woman’s, as vulnerable as any he’d ever seen.

Lucan picked up her robe, carried it to her, and draped the fabric over her shoulders. “I now believe in dragonshaping.”

“Good.” She snuggled into the warmth of the robe. He drew it tight against the wind, and her hand closed over his, her gaze challenging. “You could read my thoughts?”

“Not your thoughts. I heard what you broadcast.”

“How is that possible?”

“I’ve always had some telepathic ability. Apparently, your dragon and I are on the same wavelength.”

Her gaze searched his. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll roast you?”

He sensed her need for reassurance. And he didn’t need to be an empath to realize that although her chin was high and her shoulders squared, she was bracing for him to reject her. As much as it would be better for his mission to do just that, he couldn’t be that cruel. Not when his first instinct was to take her into his arms and kiss her from her gorgeous head to her beautiful toes.

He spoke lightly. “If you were going to cook me for your next meal, you wouldn’t have saved my life. Twice.”

“That’s true.” She stared at him, eyes still searching. He held her gaze, hoping she could read his emotions, which tended toward wonder and awe. But despite his words, she seemed uncertain and asked, “You really don’t mind I’m a dragonshaper?”

“Why would I mind?”

Relief softened her features, and a smile played at the corner of her mouth. When another shiver racked her slender body, he pointed to the door. “Come on, let’s go inside. Please.”

“But the jav>
She shot him a long, assessing look. He held her gaze, and she slowly released a pent-up breath. Finally, she pointed to a ledge above the cave’s entrance. “Make sure Merlin eats his fill.”

“Merlin?” He looked up to see an owl peering down at them. According to Arthurian legend, Merlin was the king’s advisor. “Did you say Merlin?”

“Yes.” She gazed at the owl fondly. “Thousands of years ago, one of my predecessors named him Merlin.”

“You’re saying Merlin is thousands of years old?”

She shook her head. “Merlin is always the name of the owl who befriends the High Priestess. Over the centuries there have been as many Merlins as there have been High Priestesses.”

“Are there legends about him?” he asked. Could one of this owl’s ancestors have been connected to King Arthur’s human advisor? In many Earth myths, Merlin had the ability to change into either a young boy or an old man. But Lucan had never heard of Merlin changing into an owl.

“Merlin’s known to be quite protective of the High Priestess.” Cael grinned and headed inside.

Lucan approached the jasbit, and Merlin flew down from his perch to supervise. Kneeling, Lucan removed a tiny laser from the toe of his boot and made a minor calibration adjustment. The laser hummed and emitted a beam sharp enough to cut open the animal. Within moments, he’d tossed the jasbit’s entrails onto a lower ridge for scavengers and washed the inside of the carcass with snow. Slicing off a good-sized chunk of meat, he set it aside. “Here you go, Merlin.”

The owl swooped down for his meal.

Merlin. Lucan supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by another link to King Arthur or the Holy Grail. But he was. Pendragon and Cael kept throwing surprises at him.

Especially Cael. What he’d learned about her fascinated him. But he couldn’t forget that his mission had to come first. Now that he was healed, he had to return to Avalon and resume his search for the Grail. He had to find that healing cup.

And once he did, he’d be heading home.

WEARING SLIPPERS AND A ROBE, Cael joined Lucan before the fire and tried to assume a casual demeanor. It wasn’t easy. They hadn’t spoken more than a few words since he’d witnessed her dragonshaping and they’d experienced that puzzling mental link.

Her empathic abilities told her that Lucan didn’t fear her, not even after he’d seen her in dragon form, but she didn’t know what he thought about what he’d seen. What he thought of her.

She watched curiously as Lucan leaned over the meat, his expression thoughtful. Surely he realized she could kill him with one flaming breath? Shove him off the mountaintop with one sweep of her giant wing? Then again, he was proving himself a man full of surprises of his own. Who would have thought a linguist could actually clean, spit, and roast game?

Or cook? He brushed a sweet saun drawing his mouth taut. “A woman like you deserves a man who can live up to those ideals. And I… am not that man.”

A wave of pain and anguish washed over her. Lucan’s pain and anguish. And she became terribly aware that he knew he was hurting her but doing it anyway.

Her gut twisted. “I don’t understand.”

He stood and threaded his hand through his hair. “I care about you, but I don’t want to mislead you,” he said gently.

Pain tore at her, but she kept her chin high. Despite her efforts at control, her voice cracked. “Mislead me?”

He tensed, the cords at his neck bunching. “I find you very attractive, physically, emotionally, and intellectually.”

“But?” she forced out the word, certain that what he said next would hurt, hurt worse than any tongue-lashing the Elders had ever delivered. Hurt worse than her sisters’ lack of affection.

He paced, a determined and frustrated energy in his movements. “Cael, we can’t have a future together. Not the way you want.”

“We can’t?” Pain settled in her chest, despair seeped into her bones, but she refused to break down in front of him. She’d been so hopeful that he would accept her dragonshaping, she hadn’t thought past that moment.

“My work’s very important to me.”

“So is mine. I don’t see how passion for our work relates to our passion for each other.”

A muscle ticked at his jaw, and a shadow crossed his eyes. But he met her gaze, and she saw so much emotion simmering there, resolve, sorrow, and banked anger. “I’m not ready to settle down.”

Now it was her turn to be shocked. He wasn’t ready? What the hell did that mean? That their pairing had been purely for pleasure? What if she’d conceived?

Damn him.

Her motivation had been pure. She’d given her body with high hopes and a virtuous spirit. If he hadn’t reciprocated, then he was not the man she’d thought him to be.

“I’m not rejecting you,” he added hastily. “I’m just saying… your expectations are different from mine.”

Her entire body began to shake. She was barely holding herself together. “You’re saying you don’t want a relationship?”

“I’m saying I can’t have a relationship. Not now.”

“If you only want recreational sex,” she threw the ugly words in his face, her mind spinning in bafflement at how she could have made such a huge mistake, “you’ll need to find yourself another woman.” Her voice was so tight it trembled with her fury.

He nodded gravely, his cheeks chiseled rock. “I understand.”

“So we’re done.” The finality left her angry, weary, and a"0em" width="27">She’d thought he’d wanted her. She’d felt his urgency, his hunger, and had assumed he wanted and felt the same things she did. Apparently she’d read him wrong. She knew nothing about relationships. He hadn’t wanted her—he’d wanted only her body, pure physical gratification. During her dragonshaping, she’d felt his mindlink. But she’d confused lust and telepathy for the beginnings of something deeper.

Had she seen what she’d wanted to see, or did he have feelings for her he hadn’t acknowledged—even to himself? She supposed it didn’t matter.

Wrapping her hands around her waist, she tried to contain the pain whirling inside her. She felt sick to her stomach, as if she were being ripped apart. She’d wanted to be treated like a normal person. Now she knew what normal rejection felt like, and she wanted to cry.

But she was the High Priestess. And the High Priestess didn’t let people see her hurting. Instead, she turned away from Lucan, and her communicator rang. The timing couldn’t have been better.

Lucan jumped at the ring tone. “Don’t answer that.”

“Why not?”

“It could be traced.”

What an odd notion. Cael had been briefed on all the newest military technology, and she’d never heard of tracing a call. “That’s not possible.” When Lucan didn’t contradict her, she opened her communicator, eager for the distraction. “Hello?”

“Lady Cael, this is Rion.” The astrophysicist from the lab, the man who’d helped Lucan build the laser, had survived!

“I’m so glad you made it out of the fire.” Relief, and hope that others too had survived, filled her.

“Thanks. Is Lucan with you?”

She frowned. How could Rion have guessed that she and Lucan were together? “Yes. I’ll put you on the speaker.”

“Lucan?” Rion’s voice was tense.

“Yes.”

“Military investigators are blaming you and Lady Cael for starting the fire.”

Cael looked at Lucan, expecting him to deny the accusation. He shook his head and placed his finger to his lips. Fine. She’d let him do the talking. For now.

“Why would they blame us?” Lucan asked calmly.

“You were seen leaving the lab together right before the fire. All the doors were locked from the outside, preventing people from escaping the burning lab.”

Cael gasped and raised her hand to her mouth.

“Only four of us survived,” Rion said. “You two, me, and Sir Quentin.”

Oh, Goddess. Everyone else was dead? She blinked back tears for those who’d died. Compared to the loss of life, her personal disappointments were inconsequential. She was the H">Cael’s color began to return. “You believe Rion?”

Lucan wanted to, but he also had a lot of questions. Like how had Rion gotten out of the fire? How had he known Lucan was with Cael?

“If he’s wrong,” Lucan said, “and we leave, what harm will it do? But if they capture us, we have no proof of our innocence, no alibi. We need to leave, right now.” He could see the anxiety written on her face and, beneath it, the pain he’d caused her. Pain she didn’t deserve. A woman like Cael deserved a man who could devote himself to her happiness. Perhaps once, he’d been that man. But not on Pendragon. “We need warm clothing. Do you have any to spare?”

She tossed him a unisex tunic and his own slacks, both too thin for protection from the harsh elements. But as he retrieved his socks and boots, and she thrust a spare fur coat, gloves, and a hat at him, he wasn’t fooled by her practicality. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her motions were jerky, and clearly she was very upset. No doubt the fault was his. He’d been her first lover, and he’d hurt her. While he was far from proud of himself, how could he have resisted Cael after he’d awakened to find her naked and willing in his arms?

While he wrapped the remaining meat in a pack, Cael, expression stoic, threw in a thermos and matches. She retrieved a rope harness from a niche and slipped it over her shoulders.

“Come on. We can leave through here.” She headed deeper into the cave.

He followed her down a long tunnel lit by sunlight that filtered in through slits cut into the marbelite walls. “Where’s this go?”

“We’ll exit on the other side of the peak.” Her tone was flat, devoid of all emotion. “The mountain will block their radar from spotting us.”

“How do you know?”

She lifted an impatient brow. “I’m a military mediator. While I’m no expert, I’m not ignorant of their capabilities, either.”

The passageway came to a T and she turned right. “I’m going to dragonshape, and I’ll have to fly fast and hard.” She twisted the rope, knotted it, and placed it loosely over her shoulders. “You need to tie yourself to me.”

He recalled her steep dive, her powerful wings, and the speed with which she’d flown through the air. “Where are we headed?”

“It depends on whether they spot us.” She turned a dark corner and continued through the tunnel. “We have to fly now. Every second counts. Those military ships are fast. If they pick me up on their radar, we’ll never get away. And your bulk isn’t much, but you’ll slow me.”

Great. He’d made love to her, told her he wanted only sex, and now he was going to slow her flight, lesson her chances of getting away.

He couldn’t let his guilt get in the way. It was time to leave and return to Avalon. Following Cael, he turned his thoughts to their escape.

Lucan hfont size="3">“I hope not.” She dressed quickly. “Come on. After that flight, I need food.”

TURNING DOWN A darkened passageway, Cael led Lucan to her storage alcove. She’d cached basic food supplies in canisters, along with communicators and blankets.

“Do people come after you often?” he asked, glancing around at her fully stocked array of supplies.

“This is a first for me.” The first time the military had chased her. The first time she’d been accused of arson. The first time she’d made love. The first time she’d been rejected. The first time she’d felt as if her hearts were shattering.

Lifting a hatch to a tiny cellar where she stocked frozen vegetables and fruit, she peered at her choices. But her mind wasn’t on meal preparation. Or how the supplies the Elders had instructed her to stock throughout the mountains were coming in so handy.

Ever since Lucan had rescued her in the air duct, her life had been spinning out of control. She felt restless, edgy, and excited to be in the company of a man who treated her like an equal, but she hadn’t forgotten how much he’d hurt her. That he wasn’t ready to make commitments.

Cael had been hurt many times in her life. When she’d gone to live with the Elders, and later, when her parents died, she’d cried herself to sleep every night for months. Even back then, she’d always wanted a friend. But everyone had feared her. She’d always been alone.

Uncertainty hit her. She didn’t want to be alone again. Wouldn’t she be better off salvaging some sort of relationship with Lucan? They could be friends. Nothing more.

Drawing in a deep breath, she corralled her swirling emotions. She looked up to see Lucan watching her and was acutely aware of the way his shoulders strained the fabric of his borrowed tunic.

His steady gaze took her measure. “Are you all right?”

“Of course. Why?”

“For a moment there, you looked angry enough to blow smoke out your ears.” His mouth twitched.

He was teasing. Sometimes he said the strangest things. But he’d also lightened the mood, and she laughed. “The smoke comes out of my nose.”

He smiled, and she could sense he was relieved that she’d momentarily put aside her hurt feelings. Too bad his inherent kindness also cut deep, reminding her how much she yearned for more.

He pulled the jasbit from the pack and lit the kindling in the woodstove, his movements unhurried, efficient. To keep from staring at all his rippling male muscles, she moved aside a folded blanket, found a pot, added water and vegetables, and began to slice the meat into smaller pieces.

“So where are we?” he asked, turning his blue eyes on her.

“Near Langor. It’s the city where the Elders have their retreat.” Cael fac The whispers, the talk behind her back. The isolation of never being included.

“Are you the only dragonshaper?” He asked the question innocently enough, but she could feel muted tension beneath his words.

Her mind whirled as she thought about how much to tell him. “Dinner’s ready.” She divided the stew into two bowls, poured them each some water into mugs, and sat down on a rock ledge.

He carried his bowl and drink to another ledge. “Thanks.”

Some information she could share easily enough. “According to ancient legends, there’s only one dragonnshaper on Pendragon at a time. When I die, the next dragonshaper will be born. Some say it’s the same spirit that is reborn, but… no one knows.”

“So how does a dragon fly?”

She went with the obvious. “Wings.”

“Very funny.” He smiled, his grin charming. “Your wings aren’t big enough to account for flight.”

“I also have two massive hearts and a honeycombed bone structure that’s strong but light.”

“Yeah, but even with a skimmer-sized wing span and light bones, compared to any bird, your mass is proportionally high.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“Your strength’s awesome.” He spoke with real admiration, his blue eyes bright with wonder, locking with hers. “Without your power of flight, we wouldn’t have survived. Beauty comes in many forms, and all of your shapes are beautiful.”

Beautiful. She’d never been called beautiful. She shook the traitorous thought from her mind. “I also have a second pair of lungs. Lungs designed to expand with gas.”

“Hydrogen gas?” he asked, his spoon stopping halfway to his mouth.

“Exactly. Since hydrogen is lighter than air, when my lungs expand, they help keep me aloft.”

“But where does the hydrogen come from?” The curiosity and warmth in his expression amazed her. Despite herself, her hearts fluttered.

Usually she was uncomfortable talking about her biology, but with Lucan she sensed no censure. Instead of disgusted, he looked fascinated, which encouraged her to share more. “Bacteria in my stomach create the hydrogen and funnel it to my lungs.” Sometimes she ate pure hydrogen, when she could find it processed properly. “To keep up my hydrogen production and strength, I’ve always consumed three to four times the amount of calories of a normal woman my size. The more often I dragonshape, the more energy I use and the more food I must eat.”

“How long can you go without dragonshaping?”

She became terribly aware that his fascination with her dragonshaping was causing her scales to tingle. “The longest I’ve ever gone is about one and a half cycles. But since I don’t mind the shape change or eating more calories, I frequently do it more often.”

“You dig it from the mountainside.” He didn’t sound surprised. “I could practically taste it myself during our telepathic connection.”

She nodded. “I have incisors for ripping meat and molars for grinding the metal. When I eat platinum, it acts like a catalyst and causes the hydrogen to ignite.”

“But you don’t get burned?”

Again he was concerned about her. Any other man on this moon would have been worried about his own safety.

“The inner surface of my mouth is practically armor plated. And there’s a fleshy valve that prevents a back-draft so I don’t set myself on fire.”

“And the shapeshifting?”

She shrugged. “No one really understands the process. But I remain warm-blooded. I have a heat-exchanging circulatory system, highly stratified layers of tissue under my scales to minimize heat loss, and a blood protein that prevents the formulation of ice crystals in the blood stream. Even my wings can soak up heat like solar panels.”

“You really are a fascinating creature.” His voice was low and soft. “So you change shape at will? Whenever the mood strikes?”

“Why do you ask?” She’d told him so much already. She hadn’t realized how vulnerable it would make her feel to tell him so much about herself.

He shot her a challenging look. “When we were trapped at the lab, you didn’t change shape until after we’d exhausted every other option. Why did you wait so long?”

“I don’t like to dragonshape indoors.”

“Why? Because you have to be naked?”

“If I dragonshape, my mass expands almost instantly. If I’m inside a structure, I could easily run out of room and be impaled by a beam or crushed by a concrete ceiling.”

Had she revealed too much? The secrets that the Elders had told her to keep to herself were sacred. And now she’d trusted Lucan with knowledge that could be used against her. As a scientist, he could surmise that if she ran out of hydrogen and platinum, she couldn’t fly or breathe fire. Was she naive to be so trusting? If he betrayed her to her enemies, they could take advantage.

For all she knew, Lucan, who’d been so closemouthed about his past, could be a spy for the military—although her empathic abilities told her otherwise. And she didn’t want to believe that he’d ever put her in danger.

Finishing their meal, Cael and Lucan packed the supplies. If they left now, they could reach Langor well before dark. She was about to slip the pack over her shoulder when her communicator beeped.

Lucan peered at the caller number. “Is it Rion?”

She shook her head. “My sister.” Cael opened communications. “Hi, Nisco.”

“I heard about the fire.” Her sister sounded breathless. “And that the military wants to question you. It’s b terrible.” Nisco sounded close to tears. “And I wouldn’t have bothered you except…”

Cael broke into a sweat at the raw emotion in her sister’s voice. “What is it?”

“It’s Jaylon.” Nisco sniffled. “He’s not responding to his latest treatment. Sonelle’s hysterical, and I don’t know what to—”

“What are Jaylon’s symptoms?” She clutched her communicator so hard, her fingers left indentations on the hard plastic.

“He’s vomiting and dehydrated. And he’s drifting in and out of consciousness.” Nisco let out a sob.

Helplessness and fear stole through Cael. For a moment she cradled her face in her hand and pictured Jaylon in the hospital bed, his eyes wide with fright. If only she could cure Jaylon with her blood. But even if his mother and his doctors would allow her to violate Dragonia taboos, she couldn't in good conscience attempt such an experimental procedure on Jaylon. Curing his cancer was a totally different procedure than closing Lucan's wounds. Still, she should be with him and her sisters at the medical center. She took a deep breath and reminded herself she’d been no more successful treating Jaylon than his regular physician. But if she could find the Grail… “I’ll call Jaylon’s doctors. Maybe we just need to adjust his meds.”

“I know you have so much more to worry about. I’m sorry for calling.”

“I’m glad you called.” Filled with fear and working hard to control it, Cael pulled herself together. “Take a deep breath and calm yourself. We knew the treatments were going to be rough. He’s going to have good days and bad. You have to be strong, Nisco. He’s a tough little kid.”

Lucan came up behind Cael and kneaded her shoulders, offering her comfort. Goddess, she hadn’t known her muscles were in knots. While he could hear only her side of the conversation, he could guess the situation wasn’t good. But had he guessed she was about to fall apart?

Nisco dragged in a deep breath. “Jaylon looks so pale and listless, lying in that bed. But I didn’t call just about him. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Cael had been taught to be the strong one, to stand alone. She’d worried that her independent behavior had pushed her sisters away. But here was Nisco, reaching out to her.

“Actually, I could use your help. Can you meet us at your booth in the market in Langor at sunset?” At her words, Lucan’s fingers stopped kneading, but he didn’t say a word.

“Us?” Nisco asked. “Who’s with you?”

“I’ll introduce him when I see you.”

Nisco was silent for a moment, and Cael knew she must have been shocked that Cael wasn’t alone. She was always alone. Finally, Nisco found her voice. “If I leave right now, I’ll be there on time.”

“Don’t tell anyone you’re meeting me or that we’ve spoken.”

“Got it.”

Cael h questions. “Hold on. Jaylon isn’t doing well. I need to make a call.” She dialed her nephew’s room, hoping to ask Sonelle to connect her with the healer in charge.

Her nephew answered. “Hello.”

“Jaylon? Is that you, sweetie?”

“Aunt Cael?” He sounded weak but clear-headed. “Have you found the Grail?”

“I’m working on it, baby.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“Sorry.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I keep forgetting how much you’ve grown.”

“You should come see.” He spoke with childish logic.

“I will. Soon. Is your mom there?”

“She’s talking to the healer.”

“I’d like to talk to the doctor, too.” Her hearts were aching, but Cael kept her voice cheerful. “Put her on, please.”

“I don’t want any more meds. Or shots.”

The last time she’d seen him, his arms had been black and blue from intravenous needles. “If you want to get well—”

“The meds make me sick.”

He sounded so sad and discouraged. “Don’t you dare give up on me. Those meds are killing your cancer.”

“No, they aren’t. I can tell.”

His stubborn little voice put a lump in her throat, but she managed to keep her voice light. “If you don’t get better, I can’t take you flying.”

She’d promised to make him a harness and fly him over the city. His mother wouldn’t approve, but it was their special secret.

“You didn’t forget?” he said.

“Of course not. Now let me talk to the healer, and I’ll see what we can do to make you feel better, sweetie. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Cael spoke to the doctor and then snapped the communicator shut. She couldn’t stop trembling. Lucan didn’t say a word. He took one look at her face and wrapped his arms around her, and she collapsed against his strength. She hadn’t realized she was so cold until he enveloped her in his heat.

Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek against his chest and let the steady pumping of his heart soothe her despair and frazzled nerves.

He held her close, rocking her, caressing her back and shoulders. His clever fingers worked on the tight knots in her neck. And as he smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead, it was as if through his touch he willed strength into hert>

His breath fanned her forehead and heat sluiced through her.

He cared. She snuggled closer, fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm. She should pull away, shouldn’t allow herself to be tempted. But in that moment she could think of nothing she wanted more than his arms around her.

Survival plans are always necessary.

—THE ELDERS

8

Looking for the Grail instead of heading to Jaylon’s bedside was the hardest thing she’d ever done. All the delays, the fire, the military takeover of Avalon, and the arson accusation had piled up while Jaylon was losing his battle to live. “I should be there with my family.”

“They know you love them.” Lucan rocked her against his strong chest while his fingers made gentle circles on her back.

Tears filled her eyes, and she closed them tight so none would escape. “Jaylon’s so sick. I want to be there for him.”

“Of course you do.” His voice was filled with warmth and concern. “But you’re with Jaylon in spirit. He knows that.”

Lucan was doing his best to put her mind at ease. He was being so nice. Too nice. The last thing she needed was him giving her comfort, making her aware of his strength, his gentle kindness.

He’d wrapped his arms around her so protectively, she had to fight an overwhelming need to get even closer. His heat seeped into her. He smelled so male, and his hands on her back were so tender that she was having difficulty remembering they were friends. Just friends.

She didn’t know when her arms had wrapped around his back. Or when her pulse began to pick up speed.

But friends didn’t let friends get aroused when they were upset. And even if she was aroused, she couldn’t ask more from him. He’d made his feelings clear.

She told herself to pull back. But she couldn’t make her body obey her mind.

“Jaylon’s going to be okay.” His voice was soft and gentle. “We’ll find the Grail. We’ll save him.”

“Suppose we don’t ever…” She leaned back and their gazes met, his as soft as a caress. He tilted his forehead to hers, until their noses touched and their mouths were a mere inch apart.

“It’s going to be okay.” His voice was low and sexy, and every time his gaze met hers, her pulse kicked up another notch. “We’re going to be okay.”

We? “You don’t know that,” she whispered.

“But my best—”

“Your best is passionate and strong. Your best is better than anyone else’s I know,” he insisted, the searing heat in his eyes melting her. Then his mouth closed over hers. She let out a soft gasp and parted her lips. He slipped his tongue between her lips, and while she knew friends didn’t kiss like this, she made herself stop thinking. She wasn’t going to think about anything painful, not when she could lose herself in his kiss.

Aching deep in her heart and her loins, Cael trailed her hands over his back, his neck, and into his thick hair. Goddess, she adored kissing this man who could be so tender and hot all at the same time.

Kissing him was oh so much better than any dream she’d ever had. His kisses made her feel cherished, special, and, most of all, for the first time in her life, desired.

Lucan ever so slowly slid his hands under her tunic and onto her waist, and she shivered in anticipation. Tiny flames licked their way from his fingertips, blazing a path of delicious sensations over her flesh. She longed for their clothes to be gone so they could be free to touch every inch of each other. Breathless, she began to tug off her tunic.

“Let me do that.” His breath in her ear was enough to persuade her to let him have his way.

He slowly removed her clothes, taking his time, stroking and caressing her hips, then the hollow in the curve of her back and between her shoulders, and the deep ache inside her spread like wildfire.

When he tossed their clothing to the floor and eased her onto her back, his eyes sparkled with tenderness. Excitement coursed through her.

“Let me make this good for you.” Without waiting for her reply, he leaned over and kissed her. She opened her arms, expecting another embrace, but he lay on his side. His hand roamed, smoothing her hair back from her face, down her neck, over her collarbone, leaving a delicious trail of heat.

Her nipples tightened in anticipation as he traced a silky trail down the center of her ribs to her belly. Sweet heat seeped between her thighs, and she parted her legs.

His lips left hers to retrace the path his fingers had just taken. He settled between her thighs. When he blew a breath on her curls, she clenched the blankets beneath them. Goddess. She yearned for his mouth.

When he gently parted her folds and lowered his head to taste her, the delicious sensation of his lips on her most sensitive flesh was like nothing she’d ever felt. Every fiber of her being centered on his mouth, the wondrous friction, the lovely sensations. Panting, breath so ragged she couldn’t hold still, couldn’t take any more of the sweet pleasure, she arched up as he lapped her with his tongue. His tiny flicks against her core sent spirals of heat blazing across her skin.

His hands held her thighs down. And the fire inside her burned hotter. Blazed so bright, she exploded in a fiery barrage of sensations so intense that she screamed.

When she finallynd of medicine did you give me while I was unconscious?”

“I didn’t give you medicine.”

“Then how did I heal so quickly?”

“I cleaned your wounds. I stopped the bleeding. You were very weak. Your body temperature was low. You’d lost so much blood.” Stomach churning, she set down her half-eaten slice of cheese. “I gave you a transfusion.”

“Your blood?”

She nodded, chewed on her lower lip, and stole a look at him.

The color washed out of his face. “You gave me dragonblood?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve told you this before.”

His face was stony with anger. “But I didn’t know then that you could morph into a dragon, and you didn’t explain the significance… that you’ve altered my DNA.” He clenched his hands into fists. “You could have killed me.”

She grimaced. “There wasn’t much life left in you to lose. You were dying.”

He scowled at her, his frustration evident. “Why didn’t you just take me to a medical center?”

She unfolded her arms and stroked her necklace. “Because when I’m a dragon, I think like a dragon. We were being hunted by the military. Shot at. Instinct took over, and I flew to the nest as fast as I could.”

He leaned against a tree trunk and crossed his ankles, but there was nothing casual about his smoldering fury. “So what’s going to happen to me?”

His anger pounded her until her temples throbbed. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice a pained whisper.

“You don’t know?” He shook his head. “My entire body’s changing.”

She stepped toward him and spread her hands in entreaty. “Are seeing and smelling better and healing faster such bad things?”

He gave her a long, heated look. “When we made love, I couldn’t control myself. Was that because of the dragonblood?”

“It’s possible.” Goddess help her. She went icy cold, then flushed hot.

At her admission that the dragonblood might have made him lose control, his nostrils flared. She sensed him reining in hard on his anger. “Will I grow wings? Will I breathe fire?”

As far as she was concerned, he was already breathing fire. His anger and sexuality blasted her. Her scales tingled. But after one burst of pulse-jarring emotion, he had snapped up a barrier that blocked her from reading emotions.

“I couldn’t let you die.” She trembled from the aftereffects of his roiling emotions. “But the Elders never told me what would happen if…”

A m0em" width="27">“And you, my favorite Elder.” Cael dipped her head. “I’d like to present my friend Lucan Roarke.”

He bowed his head.

Elder Benoit walked with a cane, and her hands trembled. Her pale gray skin and physical infirmity indicated she was not long for this world.

“Friends are very dear to a dragonshaper,” the Elder instructed him. “See that you don’t disappoint my lady.”

Benoit acted like a proud grandmamma defending her grandchild. For Cael to inspire that kind of trust, love, and loyalty made him proud. He met Elder Benoit’s gaze with deference.

Cael was quick to praise him. “Without Lucan, I’d have died along with the others in the lab. He convinced me we would survive. But now we’ve been framed for arson and murder.”

“So I’ve been told,” the Elder said. “Have you any idea why?”

“Perhaps the military covet our success.” Cael pursed her lips, her eyes thoughtful. “Even if we don’t find the Grail, Avalon promises to reveal untold history and possible technological advances. Just the ability to duplicate that shield could change the balance of power on Pendragon.”

“How?” the Elder asked.

“It could make the military invincible,” Lucan explained. “Right now the military defends this moon and also has police authority, yet it still relies on government funding. But if the military can duplicate the shield, they could sell the technology and become independent of the government.”

“And if the Grail is there,” Cael added, “can you imagine the wealth and power that could be gained by owning it? Who wouldn’t want a shield against death?”

Elder Benoit folded her trembling hands into the sleeves of her tunic. “So whom do you suspect?”

“Everyone,” Cael said. “The military, especially General Brennon, and possibly Sir Quentin.”

“Everyone?” The Elder contemplated Lucan with a raised eyebrow.

He returned Elder Benoit’s steady gaze. “When I went into the lab to look for survivors, I could have killed Shaw—”

“But you didn’t,” Cael said. “You were with me when the fire started. We watched the military feed the flames together.” She frowned at him, and her defense warmed his heart. But if Cael ever found out who he really was and that his real intention was to take the Grail to Earth, she’d have every right to feel betrayed.

“Please,” the Elder said warmly. “Let’s sit. Have some tea.”

“Thank you.” Cael helped the older woman onto a cushion, then took her own seat beside a square low table. Lucan sat next to her. The Elder poured the fragrant tea, and a rich aroma filled the air.

“Elder Benoit, why are you greeting us here,” Cael asked, “instead of the ames me to admit that not all the Elders believe in you as I do.”

Lucan sat up straighter. The Elder Benoit had couched her words in gentle language, but if there was dissent here, perhaps Rion’s prediction of a traitor among the Elders was true.

Cael set down her tea. “Then perhaps it’s best we speak in private, esteemed Elder, for I have broken—”

“Don’t say anything else,” Lucan interrupted. As much as he needed to know if her blood transfusion would have dire consequences, he refused to allow her to put herself at risk for that information. “We agreed—”

“I trust Elder Benoit as much as I trust you,” Cael countered, her voice strong and certain.

Lucan couldn’t tell her that her trust in him wasn’t warranted, not without giving away his cover. And if she was wrong about him, she could be wrong about Elder Benoit. “It’s not necessary to—”

“Let me decide what’s necessary.” Cael turned to Elder Benoit. “The military shot us down. Lucan was badly injured. To save his life, I gave him my blood.”

Elder Benoit choked on her tea. Coughing and sputtering, she raised a napkin to her pale lips. “By the Goddess, child, what have you done?”

“That’s one reason I came.” Cael’s voice shook with emotion. “I hoped you could tell us what’s going to happen to him.”

“You broke our most sacred law.” Tears brimmed in Elder Benoit’s eyes.

“What’s going to happen to Lady Cael?” Lucan asked.

“She ignored a sacred taboo.” Agitated, the Elder used her cane to shove to her feet. “I don’t know if I can save her.”

“Save her?” Stomach knotting, Lucan looked from Cael to the Elder. “What are you talking about?”

A tear traveled through the wrinkles in Elder Benoit’s face. “According to ancient law, any dragonshaper who shares blood will be executed. Anyone who accepts that blood will also be executed.”

“And I will be the executioner.” Another Elder in long robes stepped from behind the screen and raised a weapon at the three of them.

Lucan edged his hand toward the blaster Rion had given him.

“No, Selick.” Elder Benoit spoke calmly, like a teacher admonishing a child who had spoken out of turn in class.

Elder Selick’s eyes didn’t flicker. “They’ve blasphemed against the Goddess.”

Selick adjusted his stance, aimed at Cael. Three things happened simultaneously. Lucan lunged to cover Cael. Selick fired. And Elder Benoit stepped forward, placing her frail body between Lucan and Cael and the blast.

Selick ignored Lady Benoit as she slumped to the floor. Again he targeted size="3">Cael crawled out from under Lucan and over to Elder Benoit, and her eyes widened in horror. “Esteemed Elder?”

The woman smiled and took Cael’s hand. “I’m still here, child.”

Cael gently cradled the woman who had been so kind to her. Her wound was massive. “I’m sorry. We’ll get you to a medical center.”

“I’m dying. I was already dying, child. It’s my time to go to the Goddess.” Benoit squeezed Cael’s hand tight. “Remember to follow the green light.”

“Green light?” Lucan asked.

Cael shook her head in confusion, and tears filled her eyes.

“Remember.” Elder Benoit closed her eyes.

“Goddess, forgive me.” Cael’s voice was heavy with grief, and Lucan’s heart ached for her.

“She was a very brave lady. And she would want you to flee.”

“Flee?”

He pointed to the Elder Benoit and Selick. “You can be sure we’ll be blamed for these murders, too.” He tugged her to her feet. “We have to go.”

“I must say the sacred prayers for her.”

“She wouldn’t want you captured. Someone’s going to investigate those shots. We have to get out of here.”

Cael nodded and let out a strangled sob. In the next instant her sob became a roar, and Cael dragonshaped, collapsing the building around them.

Lucan climbed onto her back, pulled the harness out of their pack, and buckled it over her shoulders. Then she spread her huge wings and took to the air.

He expected to see a clear moonlit sky. He expected the night air and rushing wind to calm his racing heart. What he hadn’t expected was a fleet of airships clearing a distant mountaintop, headed directly for the retreat.

The full squad of military ships bearing down on the city was the equivalent of a declaration of war. And Lucan and Cael were the enemy. Fortunately, the ships couldn’t get a visual on Cael from such a distance, but their radar might.

Get us out of here.

Merlin flew into position on her wingtip, and Cael beat her wings hard and fast. Lucan hunched his body low against hers and stayed streamlined, clinging to the harness.

Where are you taking us?

Undernest.

She sent an image of a roaring waterfall, which made no sense to Lucan, but he had to trust her, trust her dragon instincts. He had no other choice.

Faster.

rd on an updraft. She lost the skimmers in pursuit, and for the next hour, he saw no sign of them.

Then, suddenly, skimmers flew out of a valley below.

Cael banked hard, before nose-diving straight down. His thighs lost contact with her back. His body floated as if defying gravity, but he clung to the spikes on her neck as well as the harness, certain each breath would be his last. At this speed, even landing in a snow bank would be fatal.

They plunged into a deep fog bank, and he didn’t dare ask if her dragon eyes could see. Or maybe she had built-in radar. Whatever she used to navigate, she didn’t need distractions.

Lucan’s left hand slipped off the harness, leaving him dangling by one arm. He gritted his teeth. Reminded himself to breathe. At least death will be quick.

I thought you liked speed.

I do when I’m the one flying.

She pulled out of the dive so gently that he floated onto her back, and she leveled out her flight with a skill no star-ship captain could emulate. Together, Merlin, the dragon, and Lucan spiraled downward.

The fog cleared, and Lucan saw with his new, sharp eyesight that the landscape had changed. Trees actually grew in this desolate place. Bushes and shrubs clung to dark, rocky crevices. And ahead, the mother of all waterfalls cascaded down the mountain, falling to a deep blue-green ribbon of river miles below.

The machines overhead grew louder, and Cael flew toward the waterfall. The airships were about to clear the summit.

Hold on.

That one thought was his only warning before she flew straight toward the thundering waterfall. If she didn’t turn aside soon, they would hit the water and the cliff behind it dead-on.

Turn, he demanded.

No. Her answer was serene, as if she were totally unaware of the danger.

There’s too much water. That cascade would tear her apart.

She failed to heed him, and the roar of the water matched the roaring in his head. Hunkering down, he plastered his body to her slippery shoulders and hung on for dear life.

To acknowledge ignorance is the beginning of knowledge.

—MERLIN

10

Cael’s dragon girth expandede, appreciating the food that filled her belly, the warmth and crackle of the fire. And the man who was doing his best not to look at her. Firelight played off the angles of Lucan’s cheekbones, and the smudge of dirt on his temple only made him more attractive.

Arching her back, she stretched, a not-so-innocent move that lifted her breasts. Lucan followed her silhouette with his gaze like a starving man watching a juicy jasbit roast on the hearth. Never in her life had she played the seductress. She hadn’t realized that drawing a man’s attention could be so exhilarating.

Lucan’s bold stare alone had her scales undulating. Her empathic senses picked up cracks in his icy surface. And below the ice was a steaming core.

“Did you eat?” She kept her voice low and husky.

He shook his head, a muscle in his tightly clenched jaws ticking. “You need food more than I do.”

She held out a chunk of jasbit. “There’s no need for either of us to go hungry. I can hunt more prey. In this altitude, fresh meat is plentiful.”

“We can’t go outside. Those ships are still overhead and flying a search pattern.”

“These airships will be out of fuel soon and have to report to their base. Eat.” She held a piece out to him again and licked a bit of sauce from her lip.

He stared at her mouth, his eyes fierce. She chewed and swallowed, then licked her finger. Feminine instincts took over, and she licked a second fingertip.

Again he shook his head. “I’m fine.” But his voice had grown tense. A muscle pulsed in his neck. Lucan was wound tighter than a compressed spring. When she raised a skeptical eyebrow, he repeated, “I’m fine.”

Stubborn man. “There’s an ice cave down that tunnel.” She pointed toward one side of the cave. “I’ve stored emergency provisions here, too.” Cael had used this cave after she’d pleaded her case to become a healer and had to wait on the government’s decision. And she’d come here after she’d learned that Jaylon’s last treatment had failed. The cave was a place to rest, to regroup. A place where she could be herself. “We could hole up in this cave for weeks and not go hungry… for food.”

He frowned as if he couldn’t quite believe she’d just made a sexual innuendo. Ah, to think she’d been so stuffy that he couldn’t even imagine her as a sensual woman.

That was going to change. Cael was done playing by other people’s rules, rules that she now realized had done nothing but keep her isolated. And now, because of that isolation, no one knew her well enough to realize that she’d never set the lab on fire, never kill a human being.

Lucan accepted the food she offered him, but he moved to the other side of the fire. “Why do you store provisions in so many different places?”

She’d let him have his distance for the moment, but not for long.

“I’m not talking about pairing.”

The flames reflected in his blue eyes. “I don’t understand.”

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “During ancient times, dragons weren’t understood. People feared the dragon would burn them and eat human flesh. Perhaps some of my ancestors actually resorted to cannibalism. I don’t know for certain. Legends tell of hunters stalking the dragon. But every time they killed a dragon, another was born, so it was impossible to rid Pendragon of us.”

“This genetic anomaly just pops up at random in the general population?” His gave was riveted on her finger playing with her hair.

“Yes.” She took a sip of water and saw his gaze drift back to her lips. “No one knows which family will have a dragon child born into it. It’s considered a great honor. In Carlane, a residence has been set aside for me to live in luxury. I’m honored—but separate. But my dragon ancestors—I call them that although they aren’t direct genetic links to me—worked hard to gain the people’s love and respect. In the past, dragonshapers were blamed for solar eclipses, droughts, wars, and sickness. It’s not impossible that war could break out again and modern opinions could revert back to primitive times. So I’ve prepared for… whatever may happen. But I have to tell you that I never thought I would be hunted for murder.”

“Your dragon guardians, do they know about this cave?” he asked, his gaze drawn repeatedly to her mouth and fingers.

“No. The Elders instructed me to trust no one. Not even them.”

“Why?”

“There was once an ancient king who coveted not only political power, but spiritual power. Knowing that if he could capture the High Priestess, he could force her to do his will, he hatched a terrible plan and married his daughter to an Elder to learn dragonshaper secrets.”

“And the Elder betrayed the High Priestess?” he guessed.

“The Elder revealed that the best way to weaken a dragon was to prevent her from feeding on platinum. The king used this ill-gotten knowledge to capture the dragonshaper, and then he placed her in a cage where she lived many, many years before she died.” Cael shuddered at the thought and leaned toward the fire. Her tunic gaped open, revealing the tops of her breasts.

Lucan took in an eyeful. She sensed the desire seething through him, but then he turned away and fed more wood into the fire. “But you’ve shared your secrets and brought me here.”

“I like you.” She spoke the simple truth. The Dragonian language didn’t have a word to define their relationship. Women and men might pair before a marriage ceremony, but since conception of a child often quickly followed the mating, it was accepted custom that the couple would soon formalize their relationship. Men usually took the pairings as seriously as women. But not >

From the emotions radiating from him, she sensed that he would keep that word—to the death, if necessary. In his own way, he was a man of honor.

She sighed. “Thank you.”

She sipped from the thermos and offered it to him, but he shook his head, stood, and brushed off his hands. “I think I’ll take another walk.”

“Good idea.” Cael shoved to her feet. “I need to work out the kinks.” She raised her arms and stretched, rolling her head back, and when his gazed burned into her, she swallowed a smile.

She strolled by him, brushing her hand against him as she passed, and he jerked back as if he’d been burned. She let her gaze become an erotic caress. “Afraid my scales are contagious?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” he practically growled.

“Good.” She threaded her fingers into his.

He made a strange choking sound in his throat, and for a moment she feared he might pull away. But his fingers squeezed hers tightly, then relaxed. And the scarlet need in him frothed bright as the sun.

He spoke, his voice was calm and careful. Too careful. “I haven’t explored this end of the cavern. While you slept, I forayed and refilled the thermos by the main waterfall.”

She knew just the place to take him. “The first time I came here, I learned this old cave system has many tunnels carved out by either prehistoric glaciers or sea water from ancient times.”

“Have you explored them all?”

She shook her head. “There are too many passages. I did find another smaller waterfall inside.” And as its water ran over the rocks for thousands of years, it had carved out a series of pools. Thermal heat warmed the water, making a perfect bathing area. But she’d let him discover that surprise for himself.

She led him around a bend and stopped. Brilliant blue water cascaded from the highest pool before overflowing the stone edges and frothing into a series of seven pools, each one smaller and warmer than the last.

“Wow.” His eyes sparkled with pleasure at the sight of the pink marbelite stone framing the glacial blue water. “This is amazing.”

She grinned. “You haven’t seen the best part.” Within a moment, she’d stripped off her clothes.

He raked his eyes over every inch of her flesh, and her hearts flipped over in response. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Is it working?” She brushed a lock of hair from her shoulder.

He tried to look away, but his eyes kept coming back to scan her naked body. “You’re beautiful. But we can’t…”

“We can.”

She turned to reveal the delicate scales on her back, the warm water sluice over her skin and praying the water would be too inviting for him to resist.

She held her breath, but the pool was too large to discern if he’d joined her. Under normal circumstances the water would have soothed her frazzled nerves and restored her spirits, but not now, not with this impossibly attractive man literally seething to have her—yet still holding himself back.

Undulating her body, she let her bottom surface before ducking back under. While she swam, she wondered if his new DNA required the nutrients the fall’s platinum-seeded water would provide. Already the platinum was seeping into her skin, causing her to seethe with energy.

If he jumped in, would he feel it, too?

A sudden disturbance rippled through the water, but she didn’t spot Lucan on the surface. Suddenly, she felt hands slide up her ankles. Lucan’s hands. He settled his long fingers on her waist and lifted her out of the water. Then dropped her.

Tingling from the combination of his touch and the energizing platinum, she released a playful yelp as she fell back into the water. She plunged deeper, grabbed his ankles, and dragged him down with her. She expected a frisky reaction, but he took her hand and began to nibble up the inside of her arm. The wondrous sensation sizzled up the scales to her shoulder, down her spine, and over the insides of her legs.

She’d never felt anything so delicious, but she had to surface for air. With a kick, she came up and filled her lungs.

Lucan surfaced next to her, his blue eyes sparkling. “Do you know that your scales taste like nectar?”

“You like my taste?” His question shocked her, and she took a stroke backward. She yearned to play the seductress, but the passion burning in his eyes reminded her she was a novice at this game.

“You’re exotic. Delicious.” He sounded so serious, and she could feel him still trying to fight his attraction.

With the water trickling from his hair, over his brow, and down his cheek, he’d never looked so good. His chest and shoulders glistened, and the heat in his eyes made her stomach tighten in anticipation. “I care too much about you to mislead you. You understand… we can’t always be together?”

“You’ve made that very clear.” She dived back under the water and lightly nipped his right buttock. At her taunting play, he threw back his head and laughed.

And while she didn’t hesitate to pinch and prod and scratch and bite while they frolicked, she wondered if she could truly seduce him.

Pool play was fun, but the water was too deep here to do more than frolic. She swam for the shallow end, hoping he would follow.

When he surged ahead, stood, and grabbed her by the shoulders like some ancient warrior determined to take what he wanted, anticipation ripped through her.

He grazed her delicate flesh with the tip of one finger. “Greedy, dragonshaper.”

“Why are we talking when I want you inside me?” she gasped.

He laughed, a low, sexy rumble. “I’m just getting started—”

“Just… getting… started?”

She scowled. He was burning bright with desire and his eagerness fed her own. Yet he was toying with her. Building her up, the delay increasing not just her anticipation, but her need, as if he were kindling a fire, carefully feeding the tiny embers until she burst into flames. And she sensed he would not be satisfied until she burned hotter than a supernova.

When he bit the tender flesh behind her knee, she thrashed. Again he squeezed her bottom, and the sting only drove her into a deeper frenzy. She clenched her fingers. Water rushed over her breasts, and she couldn’t help but slip her hand between her thighs to ease the tension.

But his mouth beat her to the spot, and when he caressed her most sensitive place with his lips, she cried out and writhed against him.

His warm tongue thrust into her at the same time as his fingers. Heat radiated from her center outward, along her spine, down her legs and arms to her fingers and toes. But the wondrous sensations didn’t stop there. The heat zigged and zagged through her until her muscles clenched, leaving her mindless.

Ready to burst. Just one more second… but damn him, he pulled back, leaving her panting.

Instead of giving her the ultimate pleasure, Lucan lifted her from the water and slung her over his shoulder. Trembling, head down, her bottom in the air as he carried her from the pool, she squirmed until his hand slid between her thighs.

His fingers teased and toyed but didn’t satisfy her. “I think you’ve forgotten Jede’s lesson, Princess.”

“Priestess.” Cael scowled. “What lesson?”

Lucan’s tone was low and husky. “Be careful what you wish for.”

If thou knows thy true heart, will thou command thy spirit?

—ANONYMOUS

12

I don’t want to be careful. I want you inside me.” Cael felt Lucan's heart leap. Apparently he liked her being so turned on she could barely stand to wait another moment.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I may be inexperienced, but you’re forgetting that I’m a physician and understand fundamental biology.”

“Fundamental?” His tone might have sounded amusedwell in the scientific community.” And it had kept him alive ten times over. In his experience, things were rarely what they seemed on the surface.

Since the news of another inscription could have been fabricated to bring him out of hiding, he wasn’t about to walk back into the military’s hands—at least not without investigating first. He hadn’t forgotten the fire or being shot out of the sky or the attack from Brennon’s men in the market.

Cael braided her hair and clipped the end, a look that emphasized her gorgeous bone structure. “If you still want to meet in secret with Rion, he’s willing.”

Interesting. Was Rion working with Cael and Lucan, or against them? Or was the astrophysicist suspicious of his superiors, too? Lucan wouldn’t know for certain until he talked to Rion, but arranging a meeting created all kinds of complications.

“Rion’s allegiance is still an unknown,” Lucan began. “While he saved our lives in Langor and warned us about Elder Selick, meeting with him, still, may not be safe. The military could be watching him, hoping he’ll lead them to us. Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

“Nisco thinks we’re all being watched and warned me not to return to Avalon. I’d love to know what’s so damn important in those papers Trelan stole from Brennon that we may all be in danger.”

He hoped Cael would stay holed up in the mountains, but she was no longer including him in her planning. He tried to flex the tension out of his neck.

“Are you meeting Nisco at the residence?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“You need to stay hidden. It’s too risky for you to meet Nisco.”

She glared at him. “I didn’t ask your permission.”

He threaded his hand through his hair, knowing he owed her some kind of explanation. “I thought you’d be safer in the mountains than with me.”

“That was not your decision to make.”

Sweat trickled down his neck and, with the back of his hand, he angrily wiped it away. Cael’s eyes widened and she gasped.

“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Your hand.”

He glanced at his hand but saw nothing to cause alarm.

“The other side.”

Son of a bitch. Purple scales had grown on the inside of his wrist. Dragon scales. No wonder his limbs had been tingling. His cells were mutating.

Dropping to his knees beside the stream, he dipped his hand into the water. The scales didn’t wash away. He picked up a handful of gravel to scour the purple scale">“A male dragon.” She whispered the words, awed and shocked.

This couldn’t be happening. Not now. But denial wouldn’t make the scales vanish. He forced himself to ask, “How long until the transformation’s complete?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is there a way to slow or reverse the process?”

“I have no idea. In all our history, only once has there even been a male dragon.”

“Tell me about him.” He had to know what he was up against.

“According to the Elders, long ago we had a king who was born with the marks. Legend says he journeyed with his brothers to a foreign realm to make war upon the Tribes.”

He jerked up his head, and his voice was sharper than he intended. “Did your king ever return?”

“The myth says he came back to place the Grail inside Avalon, then died in another realm.” She shot him a puzzled frown. “That’s why we believe the Grail’s inside the obelisk.”

He asked one last question. “The legendary king. What was his name?”

“Pendragon. His name was Arthur Pendragon—but it’s only a legend. We never found any archeological evidence that he existed.”

Electric excitement simmered through his veins, and he had to refrain from pumping his fist and tamp down his emotions before Cael realized he was on to something he couldn’t explain.

Lucan peered at the bloody scales at his wrists. Cael had told him she must dragonshape at least ten times a year to satisfy her biology. And if he, too, had to periodically change into a dragon, it would take him more than a lifetime to fly home. His ship was too small to hold his dragon form. If his new DNA forced him to shift into a dragon every cycle, it would add incalculable time to his journey.

Damn it. If he had to dragonshape on a regular basis, he’d never be able to fly home in time to help Marisa. Maybe not even in time to save humanity.

“There has to be a way to reverse this process, to take back the dragonblood.”

“Why don’t you want to be a dragon?” Her voice was filled with pain and disappointment.

“To lose my intellect… even part of the time…” He raised his head, still unwilling to reveal his mission. “How do you…”

“Cope?” She closed her eyes, as if looking inward, then opened them. “I have no choice. But I don’t mind the loss of intellect, since there are so many compensations. The gift of flight is awesome.”

“But you don’t like the isolation,” he countered.

“I don’t mind being different. But I don’t like being treated differently.”

He’d hurt her with his selfish need to preserve himself. For the sake of his mission.

And, God forgive him, he couldn’t stop his growing suspicion that being with her somehow acted as a catalyst for the changes happening to him. The way her scent affected him wasn’t normal. Neither was the way his body reacted to her touch. And the tingling up the insides of his arms after their lovemaking, tingling in the same places she had scales, and where he now had scales, caused him to question if being close to her was changing him… and he couldn’t afford to change.

He had to give her up—not just for her sake, but his own. “What else haven’t you told me?”

“Excuse me?”

“About legendary male dragons? About being a dragonshaper?” He tried to keep his voice level, but he knew his anxiety was getting the better of him.

“Let me get this straight.” She stood and began removing her clothing, placing it in her backpack. “You paired with me several times but have no intention of ever seeing me again, and you expect me to educate you?”

He reached out to take her hand. With pain and fury in her eyes, Cael jerked back.

She dragonshaped. And then she was gone.

There is a farther unknown world, a world beyond Avalon.

—ANONYMOUS

14

For two days Lucan followed the stream that led him to civilization. He’d tapped into his credit and rented a skimmer. With the military searching for him, he’d be foolhardy to travel straight back to Avalon. Instead, he headed for the remote site where he’d left his spacecraft.

Finally reaching the beach, he walked out to the sea and plunged into the surf. He swam out three hundred strokes, grabbed a deep breath of air, and dived straight down. His spaceship blended with the sea bottom, but since he’d triangulated the position with landmarks, it wasn’t hard to spot the craft beside a fan-shaped white coral formation.

He palmed a lock that responded only to his handprint, and the sealed hatch opened. After swimming into the air lock, he pulled a handle and resealed the outer portal.

Water siphoned out, air cycled in, and heat blasted him dry, and Lucan headed straight to the communication center, a circular bridge with giant windows. He keyed in a request for his messages from home.

Since he hadn’t been back to the ship in almost a month, he had video messages from both parents waiting for him. As always, they sent their love, but as he compared the new videos to the pictures of his family on the console, he noticed that worry had added wrinkles to the corners of his parents’ eyes.
His sister demanded that he return home immediately, that he was on a fool’s mission. Maybe he was. He had yet to enter Avalon, and apparently there were still more inscriptions to decipher to obtain the Grail.

Vivianne Blackstone, CEO of the Vesta Corporation and the woman who’d built this spaceship, had also sent a message. No babies had been born during the last few years. No babies anywhere on Earth.

Lucan used the computer’s extensive data bank to bring up Layamon’s Brut poem. Just as he’d remembered, many of the lines were similar to those he’d found on the cave wall. The computer couldn’t translate the second carving, but it did recognize the language was from the Tribes—Arthur’s ancient enemy. And when he logged in the type of rock, the elevation, and the depth of the rune carvings, the computer estimated both of the inscriptions had been made about fifteen hundred years ago—possibly during King Arthur’s lifetime.

The legend that Arthur had left the Grail in Avalon before his death seemed even more likely. Now Lucan had to find a way to get back to Avalon and find it.

He had to decide whether he could trust Quentin’s offer to intercede with the prosecutor on his behalf in exchange for Lucan’s expertise in reading the runes, but first he needed to head for the medical bay. With any luck one of the computer-run diagnostic tools could strain out the dragonshaping blood and restore him to his normal self.

Swinging onto the table, Lucan pulled the diagnostic device over his body. “Full medical scan.”

“Processing,” the computer answered.

The procedure would take several hours. Lucan should be using those hours to sleep. But he kept wondering about Cael. Had she found her sister? Would she try to meet Rion on her own? Would she return to Avalon?

The computer whirred, then beeped. “Your blood has altered,” the male voice spoke in a methodical tone.

“Change me back to normal.”

“Processing.”

Lucan closed his eyes and tried to let the machine work, but his heart raced as he waited for the results.

He tried to distract himself with work. The King Arthur Pendragon story Cael had told him was yet another fascinating piece of the puzzle. He’d already found abundant proof that there had been contact between their two worlds. And while Arthur had fought under the banner of a dragon and his name meant “master of dragons,” Lucan had never believed the dragon to be a genuine being. However, Arthur being a dragonshaper could account for the shapeshifters in old Earth legends.

“I’m detecting an abnormality in your heartbeat.”

Considering his thoughts, an elevated pulse was to be expected. “I’m anxious.”

“You’re growing a second heart.”

A second heart? “Reverse the process.”

“It was even possible that if Lucan and Cael could trace their family trees back far enough, say fifteen or sixteen hundred years, they might share a common ancestor in the distant past.

“So anyone on Earth who also has these genes has the ability to mutate into a dragon?”

“Only Arthur’s descendants have the gene.”

While King Arthur hadn’t had a legitimate child with his queen, Arthur had had a son with the High Priestess of Avalon, the Lady of the Lake. So his genes could have been passed down over the centuries. Arthur likely had thousands of descendants, maybe millions.

For the moment, Lucan put aside his questions about where the dragon mutation had come from and focused on results.

“And what kicked my dragon genes into gear?”

“Your immune system may have reacted to the difference in gravity. Or to something in the air. Or the food. Anything on Pendragon could have brought about the mutation.”

“Alien blood?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. A scent could have triggered the reaction. Or a sound. Or an electromagnetic wave. Or a weapon.”

“Could I have reacted to someone, not some thing?”

“Most certainly. The trigger could be environmental, physical, or even emotional.”

“Emotional?” His feelings when he’d been with other lovers had never been anywhere near as strong as when he’d made love with Cael. Emotions released all kinds of hormones. “Is there a way to slow my physical changes?”

“Not without killing you. And there’s nothing I can do to fix you, because you aren’t broken.”

Lucan left the medical bay much more frustrated than when he’d arrived. He entered the bridge and initiated an investigation. “Search for references to dragonshapers, dragonshifters, and intelligent species of dragons on the worlds we stopped at, as well as Earth.”

On the way to Pendragon, he’d downloaded culture, history, science, geography, and religion of the worlds he’d passed through. The knowledge would be precious to Earth, but what good would all that knowledge do if no one was left to utilize it?

“I have 23,425 references to dragons in my data banks.”

Lucan scratched his head. “Cross-reference the material to scales like the ones on my arms.”

“Do you also have scales on your legs?”

Lucan slid off his pants and swore. Scales ran along the insides of his feet, up his calves and thighs, and over his balls, and joined at the tip of his sex.

“Scales on arms, legs, and genitals verifi the bridge. Outside, water creatures swam by the giant portals, unmindful of the Earth ship that had become part of their landscape.

Finally the computer spoke. “There’s an ancient legend about an alien race seeding the galaxy with dragons. There’s one vague reference to purple scales that marked the limbs of the fire-breathers. And there are recent rumors about Honor, an entire planet of dragonshapers enslaved by the Tribes.”

Lucan had difficulty taking in the scope of the dragonshaping myth.

The computer spoke again. “According to the legends, the male dragon’s primary job is to keep the female safe. He’ll dragonshape whenever the female needs protection.”

“Are you saying the transformation’s involuntary?”

“It appears that way, but I’m citing ancient myths.”

“What about the female? Why can’t she protect herself?” He recalled Cael’s fiery breath, her claws, her vicious teeth that ripped through the mountainside.

“There may be limitations on the shapeshifting process. Food, temperature, gravity, atmospheric pressure, hormone fluctuations. It could be anything.” The computer beeped. “My communication network’s picking up a message, and the sender, Rion, is asking for you by name.”

Shit. No one on Pendragon was supposed to know about his ship. “Does Rion know my location?”

“Unknown. His communication’s broadband and set to hit a widespread area.”

“If I respond, can he trace this call?”

“Pendragon doesn’t yet have that technology.”

Lucan opened channels. “How’s the sinkhole?”

Rion hesitated. “That’s not why I called.”

“Tell me,” Lucan demanded.

“You and I still have much to talk about, but to answer your question, the sinkhole’s expanding exponentially.”

Lucan frowned. “Any other good news?”

“There’s a military buildup in Carlane.”

Carlane? Cael lived in Carlane. Had she left the safety of the mountains to search for her sister, after all? Was the military closing in on her? Would they lock her up and try her for murder? At either possibility, Lucan’s pulse raced.

The computer confirmed, “Military satellite feeds are picking up unusual troop movements in Carlane around the High Priestess’s residence.”

Lucan drummed his fingers on the console. “Have you spoken to Cael?”

“That’s why I’m calling.” Rion’s voice was urgent. “I can’t reach her.”

He who treat Depuck.

While she applied pressure with one hand, she felt for a pulse. Please, be there. She ached to feel life, the kick of a heartbeat. Yes. Depuck’s pulse was weak, but it fluttered wildly.

The head wound concerned her most. She opened his eyelids, and when his pupils narrowed, she deemed he was strong enough for her to move off the lawn. He was heavy, but she dragged him onto the front porch.

Cael dug into her pack for medical supplies. “Nisco! Are you here?”

No one answered. Sickened, scared, fingers shaking, Cael pushed down her fear. She couldn’t heal Depuck unless she stopped trembling. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she sought once again to calm her nerves and set aside her frustration.

She released the belt and applied a pressure bandage to Depuck’s arm, then turned her attention to his more severe head wound. With quick, efficient stitches, she sewed up the gash. The jagged injury required two layers of stitches, one deep near the bone, the other on the surface skin. Grateful that Depuck remained unconscious during her ministrations, she sewed with a hand that steadied as she performed the familiar task. As she worked, she prayed he would regain consciousness soon.

Whoever had taken off in those skimmers had left Depuck for dead. Should she call for an ambulance? The military had spies in the city. Before she could make up her mind, Depuck groaned. His eyes opened, and her scales undulated at his panic.

“Where’s Nisco?” Cael asked, her voice urgent.

“Not sure. A man… grabbed her.”

“He took her?” She tipped a flask of water to his lips.

“Don’t know. She fought and got away, I think, but he was chasing her again, and then I lost sight of them.” Depuck struggled to sit up. “Find her.”

“Lie still. Just tell me what happened.”

The water seemed to make it easier for him to speak. “I was in the vegetable garden when I heard Nisco scream. I dropped everything. Ran here. Before I reached the house… something caught me in the arm and I spun. Then my head burned. Before I blacked out, Nisco was fighting off a man, then she got free and ran away but he kept chasing her.”

“Was the man wearing a uniform?” she asked. Depuck shook his head. “No uniform. That’s all I know.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll find her. Maybe she’s hiding. She said she had something to show me.”

“Before the attack, Nisco was excited about papers a PI had sent her. She said she had to show them to you.”

“We were supposed to meet here. Did she say why I had to see them?”

Suddenly, she felt her necklace slip away and cold steel bite into her neck. She couldn’t breathe. A noose of steel chain was cutting off her air. Her captor yanked the chain, pulling her upright, forcing her to release the blanket.

Holy Goddess.

Her thoughts spun wildly. Even if she’d had the ability to dragonshape, if she tried with the chain around her neck, her head would be severed.

Her attacker yanked tight on the chain, forcing her to straighten or risk a broken neck. Lungs burning for air, she clawed at her neck, trying to ease the metal noose.

From behind, her attacker looped another chain over her wrist, then captured the other, clamping her arms behind her back. Her ankles received the same treatment. She stood on tiptoe, and only then did the chain around her neck ease slightly, enough for her to drag in a painful breath.

“What do you want?” she gasped.

“We’ll start with Nisco. Where is she?”

“She was supposed to meet me here.” Cael’s stomach knotted, and she prayed Nisco wasn’t being held captive, that somehow she’d gotten safely away. “Nisco’s husband saw someone take her away before I arrived.” It was a lie, but she needed to keep this villain from going after her sister.

“And the linguist? Tell me where he is, and as I promised Elder Selick, your death will be merciful.”

“Elder Selick?” she gasped, unable to keep the dismay from her voice. No wonder her captor had known exactly how to contain her powers by surprising and immobilizing her. The Elders knew her vulnerabilities.

Rion had warned her, but she’d assumed Elder Selick had attacked her at the retreat after hearing Cael admit she’d shared her dragonblood. Yet her assumption had been wrong. Selick had been hiding in that room, planning to attack her before she’d mentioned one word about sharing her dragonblood.

“Where’s the linguist?” her captor repeated. Sword drawn, the masked man walked in front of her and held her sacred dragon necklace like a trophy. He was large and muscular, and yet his movements were surprisingly stealthy and agile.

Openly, he wore the uniform of the Division of Lost Artifacts, and General Brennon’s audacity rocked her. But was this conspiracy to find the Grail widespread or confined to only General Brennon, his men, and Elder Selick? It sickened her to think other Elders and military leaders might be involved, too. For all she knew, the conspiracy reached into the highest levels of society and extended into the very heart of their culture.

Her keen hearing picked up the rumble of ships heading their way. If she could stall, maybe she could survive.

Ignoring her aching toes and seeking to ease the fiery pain in her throat, she lifted her chin. “If I’m going to die, at least tell me why. Why do you want the linguist?”

He placed her necklace around his own neck, and his contempt sent icy fear down her spine. He had no respect. No honor. And behind the mask, his calculating, cold eyes held no mercy. “The linguist can read the inscriptions and knows how to bring down the shields. Avalon is sinking. He may be our last chance to find the Grail.”

“We don’t really know that Lucan brought down the first shield. It’s possible—”

He placed the tip of the weapon to her throat. “You were with the linguist at the Elders’ retreat.”

“And then we split up.”

He slashed her arm and she screamed.

“A lie! You were seen flying him above the city.”

“True, but then he left me.” By now, her captor had to hear the ships approaching, but he gave no indication of it. Hoping to keep his attention on her, hoping the ships were rescuers and not his co-conspirators, she asked, “If you needed Lucan’s help, why did you try to kill him in the fire? And blame him for Shaw’s murder.”

“Quentin assured us he could bring down the interior shield, but he overestimated his ability.”

Quentin? Was he a traitor, too? “I know nothing that can help you.”

Her captor brandished his sword. “Tell me where he is.”

“Quentin?” She raised an eyebrow. “I have no idea.”

He slashed out again, slicing deep into her shoulder. She screamed at the searing pain.

“Not Quentin. The linguist. Tell me where he is. Now.”

“I’ve already told you. I don’t know.”

“You will tell me—”

“I don’t—”

“Or die from a hundred cuts.” He slashed her again, this time drawing blood on her thigh.

Drowning in a quicksand of agony, she had to swim through the hurt, no matter how thick or deep. She had to stop the pain from pulling her under. Help might be coming.

He raised his sword just as men entered the house. More masked men.

Through a haze of anguish, she realized they weren’t here to rescue her.

A burly man strode through the door. Through his mask, his eyes flicked over her wounds. “Have you found the linguist?”

“I’m working on it.” The swordsman raised his sword. When he struck again, she braced for more agony. Tried to be stoic. But as the metal sliced through her, as if of its own accord, her mouth opened and she screamed. She lost her balance, and the chain around her neck tightened, choking off her cry.

The masked man whipped the sword near her face, his cruel blade hissing by her cheek. “I’m skilled at missing vital veins, arteries, and organs. Tell me where the linguist is and your death will be swift.”

After landing at a public garage, he exited the skimmer and fought down the pain, trapping it in a corner of his mind. Heading straight for the park and Cael’s spectacular sanctum, he expected perhaps fences or guards, but nothing stopped him from crossing the immaculate grounds.

The passersby, a few couples walking hand in hand, a child on some kind of rolling wind vehicle, and a traffic cop, gave him perfunctory nods. No one seemed to think it odd that he was jogging onto sacred ground and into dragon territory. Into Cael’s home.

Through the mental link he felt her scream of pain, and his shoulder seemed to catch fire. The blaze seared down his torso and burned his guts. He began to shake with the depth of his fear for her.

As another, then another, even more horrible agony ripped through him, his ears picked up Cael’s raw scream, and Lucan’s hearts didn’t just elevate, they rumbled like a starship engine.

In response, a strange and powerful energy flooded through him.

An owl swooped out of the trees, dipped by his head, and swerved across his path. Lucan swore. “Merlin. Take me to Cael.”

As if the bird understood, it veered right and Lucan sprinted after him. The bird was leading him away from Cael’s residence to a mansion that bordered the parklands.

Sweat poured down Lucan’s back, and he prayed Cael was dragonshaping right now, breathing fire and scorching anyone who hurt her. He leapt over a metal bench, dodged around a lavender fountain, and stumbled over a loose stone. But he didn’t go down.

Merlin led the way, staying low and a few paces ahead. Thankful for good balance and the peculiar spikes in his metabolism that seemed to be urging him faster, Lucan ran at full speed, appreciating the raw energy pouring into his body.

Cael screamed once more. Pain hit Lucan, but he braced, building a mental shield to protect him from the worst of her raw agony. Despite his newfound pain filter, despite his extra strength and power, he wasn’t moving fast enough. He tried to force his legs into a quicker run, but oddly, his pace was laborious. He looked down and the sidewalk was too far away, as if he’d tripled in height. But his eyesight was much sharper than ever before. Tattered clothing and a torn shoe, his spaceship-supplied multi-tool and laser poking through the sole, littered the ground.

What the hell?

His mind was slow to process. His human legs had turned into mountain-sized limbs. He was tall, heavy. Huge.

A dragon.

And his mate was crying out in agony, calling for him on the mental plane. Pure instinct, rage, and dragon power took over. Lucan flapped arms that had grown into wings and flew, soaring into the air without effort, without thought.

He had only one goal.

When his opponent tripped over a lamp, Lucan attacked, lunging with the pipe. The man recovered his balance and sliced the pipe in two.

Moving lightly from foot to foot, half a length of pipe in each hand, he balanced on the balls of his feet.

Watch the eyes.

He expected the man to feint, then attack. But the swordsman retreated, pivoted, and swung his sword tip.

At Cael’s throat.

Eyes wide with terror, she tried to pull back. But the chains held her fast. She couldn’t do more than flinch. One thrust and she’d be dead.

Rage poured adrenaline into his system. He’d been too slow. He’d waited too long. Now Lucan had only an instant. And even if his muscles weren’t trembling with fatigue, no way could he cover that much distance in time to save her.

From out of nowhere, Merlin flew at the swordsman, his talons raking the man’s face. With a howl of pain, the man stepped back from Cael to protect his eyes.

Hefting the pipe like a spear, Lucan heaved it at the swordsman. The rod sailed through the air, aimed straight for the man’s chest and vital organs.

At the last instant, the attacker spied the oncoming danger and shifted. Instead of striking his chest, the rod struck a hard blow to his sword shoulder. With a yowl of pain, he dropped his weapon, and it skidded out of reach.

Lucan closed in on his opponent, and Merlin flew to a high windowsill.

The man swung a wild punch and Lucan took a hard fist to the jaw. Shaking off the blow, Lucan lunged for the guy’s knees and tackled him to the floor. Lucan crawled on top, hammering the guy’s face with his fists.

His opponent twisted and turned away from the facial blows, giving Lucan his back. A fatal error. Lucan snapped the man’s neck, and the clasp of Cael’s necklace loosened. The heirloom fell into his hands.

With a final heave, Lucan tossed aside the body. Fearing the worst, shoving to his feet, he stumbled to Cael’s limp body.

Oh… God. She didn’t appear to be breathing.

Sick with dread and terrified the noose had cut off her air supply for too long, he fought to free her. Her blood drenched the chains and made the task a slippery nightmare. His hands shaking with the fear he’d injure her further, he finally released Cael from the noose. As she toppled to the floor, he broke her fall and carried her to the overturned couch. Stomach churning, sickened by how much she’d suffered, he tried to be gentle. Kicking the couch upright, he placed her on the cushions. Her chest rose and fell.

She was breathing, and a measure of relief filled him. But when she whimpered, rage sliced through him. He wanted to kill the son of a bitch all over again.

Carefully, he liberated Cael’s wrists and ankles from the chains. As he tended the nasty cuts, she didn’ Cs.”

Her voice was a throaty whisper. As she grew stronger titanic relief filled him.

After squeezing a line of platinum from the tube, she pressed her fingertips to his mouth. He could taste the tang of the platinum combined with the salt of her skin, a tantalizing combination.

“See.” Through half-shuttered eyes, she gazed down at his stomach, where he was surprised to find his wound already healing.

“Your turn.” He fed her more platinum, enjoying the moment.

He peered out the window, then back at her. “How long until someone arrives to investigate?”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“There are five crashed skimmers on the front lawn, as well as about thirty charred bodies. I dragonshaped. I killed them all.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You dragonshaped. Here?”

He nodded, liking the fact that he’d surprised her. “I know you’ve been through a lot, Cael, but I need to keep you safe. Are more of those military guys going to show up?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and winced as a wound opened, then slowly rehealed. “The guy was following Brennon’s orders and was in league with Elder Selick.” She raised her hand to stroke her necklace.

At the thought of how close he’d come to losing her, his throat tightened and he had to clear a lump before he could speak. “You should replace that flimsy clasp.”

“Thanks.”

He forced himself to look anyplace but into her eyes. “We can’t trust anyone. As soon as you’re fit to travel, we should leave.” Somehow he’d summon the energy, but from where, he didn’t know.

She motioned to the other tubes. “You need to eat more.”

Before he had a chance to protest, she pressed more platinum to his lips. “You’ve dragonshaped. Used platinum, too. I need your strength. Please. Eat.”

He did as she directed, because she was right. He needed to keep up his strength to protect her. But he couldn’t deny that he liked how much she was worried about him. “Did you find your sister?”

“I haven’t seen her. Her husband, Depuck, told me a man grabbed her during the attack. She fought and got loose. Then the man chased after her. We don’t know if she escaped… or if he caught her again.” She held up her hand to forestall him. “That’s all Depuck knew.”

Lucan swallowed the food, and energy surged through him. This was a new kind of hunger—for platinum—that he would have to feed to keep up his strength. The platinum tasted delicious, but despite his craving, he ate only one tube.

“Don’t conserve. Your body just dragonshaped for the first time, right?” she asked of incense, wax, and old dust that had settled into ancient cracks on the stronghold’s thick walls. The chamber’s wide entrance narrowed and Lucan slowed, craning back his head to read the inscriptions that wrapped around the graceful columns.

“No time for that.” She tugged him through the corridor with its magnificent stained-glass windows. Usually she stopped to light ceremonial tapers and ring bells, a tribute to her dragon ancestors, but today, ritual was abandoned for urgency. She hurried directly for the temple’s center.

Lucan had slowed again to peer at the vaulted roof. Natural light filtered through the upper windows, flowed over the walls, flickered over the golden floor. He let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Wow.”

She’d spent so much time here, she sometimes forgot how mesmerizing the platinum pictures on the ceiling could be. Quadruple spires carved in tiers of marbelite depicted Dragonian life, the Goddess, and the esoteric realm of reincarnation. The Elders had used those carved and gilded images, messages from her ancestors, to teach her what it meant to be a dragonshaper.

“Come on, Lucan. I need help.” Hurrying into the next chamber, she headed straight for a lever in the wall that engaged an ancient device built with gears and machine parts and metals from meteors that had crashed into their moon millions of years ago. The antiquated floor trembled, the massive weight rumbling as the stone slabs slid open to reveal another archaic device. Smelling old and dusty, the intimidating cannon perched on a plain black pedestal that rose high above the base.

“Oh, my God.” Lucan’s eyes widened in awe. “That’s the Round Table.”

“Table?” She looked from him to the round platform.

“Nothing,” he muttered, but his eyes had taken on a wild gleam.

Cael had used the cannon only once, and that memory made her go cold. Could they both fit inside the structure? Was the device powerful enough to blast the two of them through the opening in the roof?

While she set coordinates, Lucan leaped onto the round base and inspected the cannon. Tubular in shape, about a body length wide, the cannon looked like a huge pipe, the mouth pointed at the open dome. He skimmed his palm over the surface.

He looked impressed, but he didn’t understand that this device might very well kill them both. Cael could point out a pictograph that depicted a dragon who’d failed at her attempt to clear the sanctuary’s circular opening. Her blood had stained the roof for two decades. But Cael didn’t want to think about the gruesome story, never mind repeat it.

She gestured for Lucan to walk around the cannon to the other side. “Climb in.”

“And then what?”

Her hearing keen, Cael picked up the drone of military skimmers closing in. “Ships are almost here. Get in.”

She pulled another lever, and several large, rough-t="0em">

Lucan held her tight. One moment they were standing inside the cannon, the next they were in midair. Above Feridon. Just as quickly, they began to fall. Wind rushed through her hair and cooled her flesh.

They’d made it through the ceiling, into the cloud cover over the outskirts of the city, not far from Jaylon’s medical center. But the speed of their plunging descent had made holding on to Lucan impossible. Flung from her arms, he tumbled. But even as he fell, he craned his head to look for her.

She reached for him with her wings. She’d dragonshaped.

He hadn’t.

Cael. His mind called to her.

Lucan was plunging like a skimmercraft diver with no parachute, tumbling through the air, plummeting toward Pendragon. In moments he would smash into the ground.

I’m coming. Without hesitation, Cael dived, tucking her wings in tight, streamlining her body. She caught up to him, adjusted her speed, and then flew under him, matching their rate of descent. Climb on.

Lucan grasped her back. And slipped. She stabilized, felt him seize her neck. For a moment, Lucan remained airborne, then pulled himself over, straddled her shoulders, and clung—not an easy task.

Got you. Lucan’s mind linked with hers as he wrapped his arms around her neck.

Hold on.

She needed to climb into the clouds before Feridon’s citizens spotted her in the sky.

“Hurry.” Lucan’s words conveyed an urgency she shared. They flew over the city, and she picked up a thermal current and spiraled, climbing high into the cloud cover. She didn’t need a clear view to find the medical center. Jaylon had been sick for several years, and she’d visited often.

But Cael was finding flying an effort. Her injuries and healing had depleted her platinum reserves. Hunger drove her forward. She must feed soon—or fall out of the sky from exhaustion.

No.

If she did, her mate would die. And she would be alone.

Her wings ached. Her lungs heaved with effort.

She had to reach the medical center. Her wings felt so heavy, the man on her back like lead.

She couldn’t stay high enough or level. We aren’t going to make it.

We will. You can do this.

She tried to relax, tried to make her limited energy last. But it was no good. She corkscrewed downward, dived through the traffic streams, barely avo dragonshaper.”

“Thank you.” Barena glowed but moved back quickly, exhibiting that duality of fear and reverence Lucan had noted before. Barena hesitated, then spoke again. “Is there anything else I can do to help you?”

“Say nothing to anyone about our meeting. Secrecy is for your own safety. Those that seek to do harm have hurt my family. They might harm you, also.”

“I understand, my lady.” Barena backed away. “I will say nothing.”

Lucan stopped her before she backed out the door. “Can you tell us more about this building?”

Barena frowned. “It’s a gambling enterprise. The premises include private rooms, many restaurants, and a shopping area.”

“Thank you.” Lucan held open the door, and the woman left. He turned to Cael, who still looked pale, and helped her into her clothes. “Is there somewhere we can get you some platinum? And how far is it to the medical center?”

“It’s not far. We can walk.”

Cael shoved to her feet, then swayed. She hadn’t answered his question about the platinum.

He stopped and turned to face her. He raised her chin with his fingertips and looked into her eyes. An undeniable connection flared.

His voice was soft, husky. “We could be walking into a trap.”

“Nisco wouldn’t do that—not if she had a choice.”

“Still… there’s something I want you to know.” He slipped his hand from her chin to her neck. He could feel her pulse beating wildly.

“Yes?”

She waited for him to say more. But he couldn’t tell her he was from Earth, that she meant so much to him that he hoped she’d return with him. She wanted the Grail for Pendragon, and he wouldn’t make her choose.

Yanking her to him, he kissed her with the desperation of a drowning man sucking down air. Like a man who couldn’t bear to think beyond this moment. This place. This kiss.

Pendragon is the banner of Briton under one great dragon and stands in token of all folk, Briton, Christian, Druid, Old People, and all believers of Avalon.

—ARTHUR PENDRAGON

18

Finally, Lucan had kissed her. And she melted into his arms, surged into his kiss. Having him there with her meant everything. Instead of going to Avalon for the Grail, he’d come to help her. Even now she could feel his worry for her, as well as the constant thread of desth="27">“Why are you so curious?” she asked. Her scales itched, and she was picking up that mental-emotional barrier he erected so often.

“I saw ancient symbols on the stones in your shrine. Ones like those at Avalon. Seems to me that the people who built your residence may have been the same ones who built Avalon.”

“You’re probably right. We’ve never understood how Avalon’s shield or the High Priestess’s cannon works. But enough about the past. Right now I’m too weak to fly. We need to buy platinum without casting suspicion on ourselves, then fly to the nest.” She stood from the bench and strolled toward the city center.

Lucan followed. “Platinum’s available in the city?”

“It’s used to make jewelry, but expensive.”

“And if you eat enough hydrogen and platinum, you’ll be able to change shape at will?”

“What’s with all the questions?” she asked.

“I need to understand my biology.” His tone was even, but she could sense the intensity beyond his words.

“I’m not an expert in male—”

“I need to know the advantages and limitations of my dragonshaping.”

Frustration simmered within her. “Is that why you came back? You think I have the answers you seek?”

His mouth twisted wryly. “Of course not. I was worried about you.”

He did care for her. Just not enough to give her what she wanted. And that was why the damned man had her so on edge. One moment he was sincere and caring, the next passionate. And yet… he was holding back. She wanted to know why.

They strode past stores and restaurants. Traffic passed, and the sidewalks were filled with strolling shoppers, workers on lunch breaks, and teens holding hands. When a skimmer pulled out of traffic, screeching to a stop at the curb, Cael’s instincts kicked in. She tugged Lucan into a knitting store.

Pulse skittish, she glanced over her shoulder through the store’s front window to see two men in military uniforms spring out of the skimmer, hands nervously fingering their holstered weapons.

“Out the back.” Lucan hurried her past skeins of yarn and knitting needles. They ended up in an alley. Weary to the bone, so fatigued she could barely move, she stumbled, trying to keep up.

“Run,” Lucan urged.

“I can’t.” She waved him off. “It’s you they want. Leave me.”

She expected him to argue. Instead, he gave her a quick kiss and ran down the alley.

He’d left her.

Shocked, she slid against the wall to her butt. Numb, aching, and wondering where Lucan had gone to, she waited for the soldiers. No wayt saved her from torture to abandon her to this new threat.

She might not know his plan, but she believed he was doing his best to help her. She’d seen the horror in his eyes when he’d found her chained and bloody. He’d stayed with her to search for Nisco—even when he’d wanted to return to Avalon. She might not have been experienced with relationships, but she knew him. He cared about her. If he had a choice, such an honorable man would never leave her in danger.

Her nerves ragged, she didn’t wait long. The soldiers raced out of the store like fire was nipping at their heels. For a moment they debated whether to go right or left, their gazes passing right by her.

If she was lucky, they’d run the other way. Not even notice her.

Cael wasn’t lucky.

“There she is!” A soldier shouted, his voice fearful. He yanked his blaster from his holster. “Don’t move.”

If she could have moved, she might have laughed, but she didn’t have the energy. If they wanted her, they were going to have to carry her. But no one touched a dragonshaper.

They’d probably shoot her.

She was going to die. And as much as that thought upset her, she wished she knew Lucan was safe. She wished he could know that she went to her death without blaming him. Whatever he was, he would do his best to help her. She feared he’d been cornered, too.

Cael closed her eyes and prayed for the blaster to take her out in one clean shot.

She heard a loud thud, a grunt, and two shots fired. But she felt no pain. At first she thought she was dead. According to the Elders, the Goddess promised there would be no pain in the afterlife.

With her last ounce of energy, she opened her eyes. She wasn’t dead, but the soldiers were, or, at the least, they were unconscious.

Lucan stood over them, trussing their hands behind them with their belts. He’d leaped off the roof onto her assailants. He’d saved her. Again.

Lucan insisted that Cael eat all the platinum they’d bought in the city. With her strength renewed, she flew him to the cave outside Feridon and humanshaped. Lucan removed her clothes from where he’d stored them inside his tunic and handed them to her. Cael dressed, hoping that the computer message Sonelle had given her from Nisco was genuine. But if Nisco was here, why hadn’t she greeted them? Her sister knew the way well and would not have gotten lost, yet Merlin was the only living creature in sight.

When Cael and Lucan entered the dark cavern, Nisco wasn’t inside.

“Where do you think she is?” Lucan peered over Cael’s shoulder into the empty space, his breath warm on her neck.

“She could be taking a longer route to make sure she isn’t followed.” Cael prayed that she was right.

“Then all we can do for now is wait.” Lucan gestured to the sacks of supplies stored on response. “Dragonshapers can live for several centuries. But since you weren’t born of the blood—”

“Several centuries?” He whistled. “And there’s no reversing the process?”

“Why would you want to?” She shot him a seductive grin and watched his scales ripple, his lust build. His irises darkened and grew, until the whites of his eyes vanished.

He was a beautiful man. When she’d first seen him, he’d been larger than most Dragonian men. Stronger and more fit, too. But with his dragonblood, he was honed, his cheekbones sharper, his muscles more defined. He’d put on mass, all of it muscle.

No longer just a man—he was a force unto himself. A very male, very attractive force.

He lay back on the blanket, and she snuggled against his side, her cheek pressed to his chest. And heard his heartbeats—both of them. Goddess. His human physiology was evolving, making him her perfect mate in every way save one.

She could see that he could no more deny the pull of their attraction than she could. She could hear the increase in his pulse, his ragged breathing.

“I want you,” she murmured. Cael was way past denying she wanted him. Way past holding back. She was going to fight for herself and what she wanted.

And she wanted him. She desperately wanted to show him how she felt. After that, the decision was out of her hands.

She’d live with the consequences. Because Lucan Roarke was worth fighting for, and if she fought and lost—that was way more honorable than retreating from a losing battle.

Desire flared in his eyes. “Thank the universe. I wasn’t sure if I could hold back much longer.” He dropped the shield that had blocked her from feeling his emotions. The blast of lust might have knocked her over if she’d been on her feet.

Merlin fluttered his wings and flew out of the cave.

Lucan tugged her shirt over her head. She slid his off, taking the opportunity to curl her fingertips over his massive shoulders. His flesh was so warm, so firm. And his scent set her on fire.

She tugged at his pants, but he brushed aside her trembling fingers. She opened her mouth to protest, and he placed one finger over her lips.

“Shh. Let me.”

Forget that. She was done waiting. Teasing his finger with her tongue, she sucked it into her mouth and then bit him. And when he slipped away, she leaned forward and licked her way over his chest to his nipple.

His body quivered in anticipation. She continued teasing him with her tongue as she let her hands wander over his flat stomach, to his hips, to his straining sex. He sucked in a breath, and she grinned with satisfaction, ever so slowly sliding her lipsds slipped over her breasts and his fingertips teased her nipples.

Then he was like a dam finally breaking after too much rain. And the moment he lost control of his emotions, she felt his desire, showering her, drenching her. There was no more denying their true needs. He clamped his hands on her waist. His hips moved as if with a will of their own. Moved with power. He began to pound into her, his hands demanding, his lips greedy on her neck, her ear, her shoulder.

He spilled into her with a heady groan, his hearts thundering, his breathing ragged. And still he held her tight, his fingertips caressing her hips, his warm breath on her neck.

Thank the Goddess. He’d stopped fighting himself and given her what she most wanted—his real self. His essence. The man she loved.

Yes. She loved him. With her spirit, with her heart and with her soul.

Pleasure washed over her once more, this time his feelings flooded her, too. Defiance, protectiveness, lust, and something else… something indefinable that she was afraid to name, something that made this bonding of body and spirit extraordinary and special.

As she recovered in his arms, she was certain he’d felt it, too. A moment when they weren’t High Priestess and linguist, not man and woman, but together as one.

Resting in his arms, at peace, she started to doze and noted in a haze of bliss that he hadn’t vibrated this time. That earlier peculiarity must have been a result of his ongoing transformation. She started to mention it but heard footsteps outside the cave.

“Did you hear that?” She sat up and grabbed her clothes.

A man shouted, “Are you here, son of Adam?”

He who sheds blood for me shall I call brother.

—ARTHUR PENDRAGON

19

Lucan recognized Rion’s voice immediately. When Avalon’s astrophysicist called out “son of Adam,” using words from Layamon’s poem, which Lucan had read on the cave wall, his every sense sharpened. “What the hell’s Rion doing here?”

Beside him, Cael quickly dressed. “By the Goddess. Maybe Nisco’s with him.”

Lucan hoped he would have an opportunity to talk to Rion alone and find out what the man knew about the “son of Adam” reference. Doing so in front of Cael would be too dangerous. Perhaps Cael and her sister would want some private time, too.

But when they met Rion at the entrance, Nisco was nowhere in sight. a welcoming smile, but the dark circles under his eyes and the shadow of his beard hinted at hard times, as did his torn and filthy clothes. He looked rough, tough, and dangerous.

Lucan was thankful for his dragon blood, which made him stronger than normal in human form. Without it, he might not have been able to take Rion down in a fight. Rion was bigger, broader, his muscles honed. It was good to know he could do whatever was necessary to protect Cael.

“Have you seen Nisco?” Cael asked.

Rion nodded. “After I intercepted General Brennon’s orders to attack your home, I got there as soon as I could.” Rion hung his head. “They’d already beaten your brother-in-law. She fought me at first, but I was able to convince your sister to let me take her out of harm’s way.”

“Thank the Goddess.” Cael looked stricken by the thought of what might have happened if Rion hadn’t arrived. “So where did you take my sister?”

“She wanted to go to the medical center, but it was too dangerous. I talked her into hiding at a hotel in Feridon. From the hotel, we sent a messenger to the medical center with the note asking you to meet us here instead.”

“So where is she?”

“My lady, when Nisco heard your message about Depuck’s injuries, she insisted on going to his side.”

“But he’s not at the residence, he’s hiding.”

“She seemed certain he would go to a cousin and planned to meet him there. She said you’d understand.”

“I do.” If Cael was disappointed, she didn’t let it show.

Lucan searched for a skimmer and frowned. “How did you get here?”

“Nisco flew me partway in a skimmer. I walked the rest.”

“Please, come inside.” Cael gestured to Rion. “We were just about to eat.”

“No, we weren’t.” Lucan blocked Rion from following Cael into the cave. “Why are you here?”

“Such suspicion.” Rion looked puzzled and annoyed.

“You haven’t been accused of murder as we have. And I haven’t forgotten you’re on General Brennon’s payroll.”

Rion folded his arms over his chest. “And I’ve been working with Quentin at Avalon. So what?”

“Seems to me you’re very cozy with the people who are hunting us.”

Rion held his stare. “Working there, brother, is how I’ve kept you informed of their activities.”

“I’m not your brother.”

Cael stepped back outside the cave. “What do you mean?”

“Cael, please go inside.” Lucan spoke softly.

She rolled her eyes in irritation. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“This man may be dangerous.”

Her voice was calm but threaded with steel. “Rion saved Nisco. How can you doubt—”

“We don’t know where his allegiance lies,” Lucan countered.

“Look, let’s just speak the truth.” Rion sat, leaned against a rock, tipped his face to the sun, and for a moment closed his eyes. When he reopened them, his gaze locked with Lucan’s. “I’m a son of Gerwain. You are a son of Adam. And it is written that together we shall uphold the laws of Uther and the laws of Arthur.”

Cael stepped beside Lucan. “I don’t understand.”

Lucan did. Since Rion knew about Arthur and Gerwain and Adam, he probably knew about Earth, as well. But how would Rion know Earth’s history unless he was from Earth? And if he was from Earth, why hadn’t he said so sooner?

Rion bowed his head to Cael. “Lady, fear not. Our hearts are true to this quest to find the Grail before the Tribes can steal it.”

“The Tribes?” Stomach in knots, Lucan folded his arms across his chest. On Earth, the Tribes had been the enemies of King Arthur. Most historians believed the Tribes were Saxons and Vikings. With the help of the Knights of the Round Table, King Arthur had kept law in his land by keeping the Tribes at bay. But Rion was speaking as if the Tribes sill existed.

Rion pulled a thermos from his tunic and sipped, appearing as weary as if he’d just completed a long and difficult journey and was stealing himself to gear up for yet another. “For centuries the Tribes have sought the Grail. If they find it, their darkness will snuff out our light.”

Lucan snorted. “You aren’t speaking like an astrophysicist, but like some religious—”

“Like someone,” Rion interrupted, “who has read the ancient legends and has seen into the future.”

Lucan scowled. “What are you saying?”

“I get flashes.” Rion’s gaze challenged him to listen with care. “They’re a form of clairvoyance. Bits and pieces of history, as well as of the present and future, come to me in waking dreams. It’s a family gift. Or curse,” he said with a shrug, “depending on how you look at it.”

“He believes what he says.” Cael looked at Rion intently, as if searching for what the man wasn’t saying.

“I’d like more proof,” Lucan muttered but recalled how Rion had seemed certain the shield was about to come down—right before it had vanished.

Rion pulled out a note and hap>

As Rion spoke, his gaze pierced Lucan’s. At the mention of his home world, Lucan’s muscles knotted.

Rion told his tale, his words almost hypnotic. “Gerwain, a great seer and my ancestor, predicted that if Briton and Earth succumbed to the Tribes, the entire galaxy would fall into total darkness. So centuries ago, the best warriors from many worlds, Knights of the Round Table, united with King Arthur Pendragon. Together they pledged to protect the Britons from darkness and took on a secret mission to find the Grail. They believed that possession of the Grail would protect their soldiers in battle. After a long search, the knights presented the Grail to Arthur, who, before he died, supposedly left the Grail in Avalon.”

“How did King Arthur travel from Earth to Pen-dragon?” Lucan asked.

“That’s just one of many things that the legends don’t explain,” Rion replied.

“The Grail isn’t doing any good behind Avalon’s shield,” Cael spoke firmly. “But in any case, why have I never heard these tales that you speak?”

“The tales are common in the land of my birth. It’s a world called Honor.”

“You come from another world?” Cael stared at Rion, as if caught between awe and disbelief.

Damn it. Honor was the planet the computer had told Lucan about, a planet of Dragonshapers who’d fallen into savagery and slavery. But Rion was no dragonshaper. He didn’t have the telltale scales on the insides of his arms.

Lucan wasn’t an empath or a seer, but his instincts told him danger was brewing. He tried to tug Cael away. “Don’t believe him.”

“Truth radiates from him like sunlight.” She rooted her feet to the rock. “How did you get to Pendragon?”

“I stole an ancient spaceship. I barely made it here and then crashed. My ship’s pieces are scattered over the southern mountain range.”

Cael stared, eyes wide. “How did you survive?”

“I ejected. My chute left me dangling in a tree with broken bones.”

“That must have been painful.”

Rion’s eyes darkened. “It took me a year to make it to civilization.”

“How long have you been here?” Lucan asked.

“About three years.” Rion stared at Lucan as if he knew that was how long Lucan had been here, too. But he hadn’t said anything to indicate he knew Lucan wasn’t from Pendragon.

“Are there any other visitors here from your world?” Cael asked

“I’m not the only offworlder. Lucan comes—”

“Silence,” Lucan ordered, too late.

Cael stiffened beside him.

Rion’s g>Rion morphed back into human shape. “I was born a dragonshaper. On Honor, all my people are dragonshapers.”

“You don’t have scales on the insides of your arms,” Cael noted.

“My chromosomes are slightly different. I’m from another world.” Rion turned to Lucan. “The Tribes cannot dragonshape, but they seek to dominate us with their military superiority. We must all stand against them. Our dragon blood makes us allies. Brothers.” Again he held out his hand. “Together we must protect the Grail. If you’ll accept my help—”

“Glad to have it.” Lucan shook his hand.

“And I have your promise not to speak of what you just saw?” Rion pressed.

Lucan nodded. “You have my word.”

“Mine, too,” Cael agreed. “But why the need for secrecy?”

“We can’t risk changing the future.”

Lucan wasn’t certain he understood. But Rion was entitled to keep his secret.

“But who are the Tribes today?” Cael frowned at the men. She’d donned her authoritative mantle and sounded calm, but Lucan sensed her churning fury beneath her cool exterior.

Rion shrugged, his eyes bleak. “No one really knows. Once they claim a world, they destroy it. No one is left to tell the tales.”

That the Tribes were still their enemy seemed impossible, but Lucan had traveled too far and seen too much not to believe Rion. Right now Lucan was Earth’s only representative, and he could use an ally. Who better than Gerwain’s son, a descendent of one of Arthur’s most trusted knights? The military’s hostility and the murder accusations, plus the High Priestess herself being tortured, indicated that other offworlders might already be here. And the Tribe inscriptions on the paper from Brennon’s briefcase troubled him deeply. The Tribes… King Arthur’s ancient enemy had survived.

The Tribes wanted the Grail.

If Lucan succeeded, if he took the Grail to Earth, the Tribes might follow. It was a gamble, but he had no choice but to accept the risk.

CAEL SHOOK WITH an anger so fierce that it took every iota of her willpower not to shout, shake her fist and curse the Goddess. Lucan had deceived her. Used her. There was no telling how many things he’d lied about. She’d trusted him and betrayed her people. She felt like a fool. She felt as if her heart were breaking. But worst of all, in giving him her dragonblood, she’d created a most formidable enemy.

Holy Goddess! For the first time in her life, she wanted to roast someone alive. She stomped into the cave before she vented her anguish and pain.

But even as she fled down the passageway in a terrible temper, she knew she wasn’t prepared to kyebrow. “Are you angry about my mission, or because I didn’t tell you the truth?”

Goddess help her. She didn’t know. She’d never been so confused. She hadn’t ever expected to meet a man she could love. She’d certainly never dreamed that man would be an alien. Or that they’d work at cross-purposes.

She glared at him. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

He held out a hand palm up, then slowly let it drop to his side. “When I could, I told you the truth. I do share mental communication with my twin. She did suffer two miscarriages. I am a linguist who specializes in ancient languages.”

“From Earth.”

“From Earth,” he nodded. “What I didn’t tell you is that my people are sterile. If I do take home the Grail, I’m fairly certain the Tribes will follow. But I have no choice. And now, even if we find the Grail, it may take me so long to get home, I’ll be too late.”

At his bitter words, her gaze narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“My spaceship isn’t large enough to hold a dragon.”

No wonder he’d struggled with his dragonblood. She’d never understood his conflict—until now. Perhaps she had stopped him from leaving with the Grail, after all.

“Then you’ll have to stay on Pendragon—where the Grail can be of great use.”

“I can’t give up. It’s true that if I stop on other worlds to change shape, I will add years to an already long journey. By the time I return, my sister and everyone else may be too old to have children. But while there’s still a chance, I must try. I was hoping you would want to come with me.”

With him?

Rion ducked into the cave and cleared his throat. “There is more at stake here than the survival of Lucan’s people. Every knight sworn to King Arthur came from a different world. If Earth falls, all of us fall. Not just Pen-dragon and Honor. There are twelve worlds in Arthur’s alliance.”

“Why is Earth the key?” Lucan asked.

“I don’t know. But we can’t fight among ourselves. We can’t let the Tribes rise again.”

Cael stared at Rion, horror churning her gut. “You can’t know this.”

“My father saw it. So did my father’s father and his before that. So did I.”

“Do all your visions come true?” Cael asked, her empathic ability telling her the warrior in him was conflicted, but whether it was about his abilities or his mission, she couldn’t be sure.

“It’s complicated, my lady. The flashes come true… unless we act and change the future. We should leave for Avalon as soon as possible. The cavity beneath the obeli0em">

“It’s possible. Quentin and General Brennon have grown close, and they are up to no good. And Quentin’s claiming he can bring down the inner shield with a dyno blast.”

Cael frowned. “Even I know that a dyno blast set off inside Avalon will weaken the ground.”

Lucan added, “Quentin might be setting a trap for us, threatening to blow up Avalon if we don’t return to help him bring down the inner shield.”

“Rion’s right,” Cael said. “We need to head straight for Avalon. But bear in mind, we may be arrested for murder.”

Although they’d reached an agreement, Cael remained angry and uneasy. Feeling as if she were swimming upstream against a raging current and had lost her footing, she struggled for balance. Cael didn’t trust either man. For all she knew, Rion and Lucan both came from Earth, and this legend Rion spoke of was yet another lie. Earlier, she’d sensed Rion’s truthfulness, but after Lucan’s betrayal, how could she trust her empathic abilities?

Worse than not trusting either man, she no longer trusted her own judgment. To think the High Priestess could have a real relationship with a man went against every law the Elders had taught her. Dragonian society had good reasons for the laws they’d enacted and honed for thousands of years. For her to hope she knew best was arrogant, and now she was paying for her arrogance.

She didn’t want to think about Lucan’s suggestion that she accompany him to Earth. She was the only High Priestess on Avalon. Her world might already be under attack from the Tribes. With General Brennon and Sir Quentin and maybe some of the Elders already under enemy influence, she couldn’t even consider leaving Pendragon.

The Grail is made from metal that fell to Earth from a falling star and tis forged in the blood of a land where the ring stones were first raised.

—MERLIN

20

Lucan barely recognized Cael as the warm, friendly, and compassionate woman he’d come to know. Since learning he was from Earth, she’d wrapped herself in High Priestess formality, building a wall between them that he couldn’t breach. Right now he was giving her space, giving her time to heal from the wounds he’d caused, hoping she wouldn’t have permanent scars.

At least Lucan and Rion had talked Cael into bypassing the authorities and sneaking into the laboratory building at night. If not for Cael’s knowledge of a secret underground administrative tunnel, fortunately untouched by the flames, they’d never have made it inside the building undetected. After they’d helped themselves to supplies from the research team’s storage unit and assembled a bag of flashlights, picks, and other gear, they were back at the main entrance of Avalon.

The structure’s exterior, massive and dark, looked exactly as Lucan remembered—except the front doors stood wide opn the ground.

“Don’t turn on the light until we’re deeper inside,” Lucan instructed.

“We’re not idiots,” Cael muttered.

Aware she was still nursing hurt feelings, he kept his tone gentle. “You’re also not accustomed to sneaking around.”

Cael stiffened. “I may not be a thief and a spy, but you don’t need to tell me—”

“Please.” Lucan cut her off. “Hush. I hear something.”

“Me, too.” Rion agreed, his presence helping to diffuse the awkward tension between Cael and Lucan. “It sounds like… wings beating the air.”

“It’s Merlin.” With a look of impatience, Cael strode forward into the dark chamber.

Sure enough, Merlin was there. But how had he flown all the way from the mountains? Surely a bird couldn’t keep up with a skimmer. And how had he found them? Perhaps he was attuned to Cael through some kind of internal radar.

Lucan pulled a flashlight from his belt and resettled his heavy pack. He carried an empty duffel for the Grail, pickaxes and shovels, and minor explosives, brushes, and trowels. He had no idea how far into the structure they would have to go before they encountered the next shield.

“Hurry,” Cael said, walking quickly. “We have only eight hours before Quentin’s team returns to work and discovers us.”

“I’m surprised they’re not working ’round the clock,” Lucan said.

“They stopped out of exhaustion and frustration,” Rion explained, “and they were out of options. Quentin thought a rest might result in new ideas.”

Cael had packed food and drink, but she’d been extremely quiet until now, letting Rion and Lucan make the plans. Lucan was glad to hear her speaking up again. He missed her voice: he missed her common sense. Most of all he regretted he’d hurt her so badly.

Shining his light on the interior walls, looking for more ancient glyphs, Lucan expected sophisticated building materials, because whoever had constructed Avalon’s shield had a high level of technology at their disposal. But the passageway reminded him of corridors inside Egyptian pyramids, dark and solid stone. The floor ran level for as far as his flashlight could reach.

“How’s our air?” Lucan asked.

Rion raised his wrist meter to his flashlight. “We’re fine. But I don’t understand why. I haven’t seen a ventilation system.”

“There isn’t one.” Lucan shined his light along the ceiling, noting joints so tight a piece of paper wouldn’t fit between the cracks. Talk about precision building. Whoever had constructed Avalon had been master craftsmen, and ghosts of the past had his imagination firing.

Had King Arthur and his trusted knights once walked through this same corridor? Had the counselor Merlin been at their side, giving sage awidth="27">“Quentin must have aired out this corridor,” Cael remarked, her voice once again level.

Lucan would rather have an angry Cael with him than no Cael. She was so good at teamwork and possessed keen powers of observation. He longed to hold her and share his thoughts. Now that his secret was out, he wanted to tell her about Earth. Tell her how much she meant to him.

Rion stepped next to Lucan. “Rumors in the city are running rampant that Quentin’s new team has experienced several deaths.”

“Avalon may be booby-trapped.” Lucan moved ahead, keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Ancient builders often added death traps to guard their prizes. At the pyramids in Egypt, the builders used many lethal traps to prevent thieves from stealing gold and jewels. Since the Grail was one of the most famous and valuable treasures in the galaxy, and since Avalon had likely been constructed to safeguard the Grail from the Tribes, it made sense that booby traps might be inside. “Don’t touch the walls. And don’t step on anything suspicious.”

“Suspicious how?” Cael asked.

“A loose stone. Or a hole in the rock that doesn’t look natural. Anything that doesn’t belong.”

Cael fingered her necklace. “Maybe coming here at night wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Daylight won’t penetrate these walls,” Lucan said. “I’m surprised Quentin hasn’t posted guards. Maybe they’re farther inside.”

Lucan hoped she didn’t ask to return to the entrance. He didn’t like the idea of her going alone, couldn’t be certain she’d be safe. He wanted her beside him, where he could watch out for her.

Lucan turned to Rion. “You have any psychic flashes on where we might find the Grail?”

“Nope.”

“Have you seen what it looks like?”

“Nope.”

“That power of yours—”

“More of a frustration than a power.” Rion sighed. “Do you have any idea how disconcerting it is to see part of the future and not know how or when or where the event will take place?”

“Look at this.” Cael shined her light on a darker area of the stone wall.

“Is that heat discoloration?” Rion stepped back to allow Lucan a better look. Although the rest of the stone was sandy brown, this spot, about as wide as his hand, was a darker pigmentation.

Lucan took a pick from his supply bag and scraped at the spot. The outer rock flaked, and beneath was soft, fine sand. “It could be water damage, or…”

“What?” Rion prodded.

“There’s something here.” Gently, Lucan swept away the sand, letting the grains fall to the floosize="3">Without effort, he matched her flight pattern, his enormous body hovering over her, under her, beside her. Lazily they circled the giant cavern, taking their time to explore the space and each other.

His wing occasionally brushed her back, her tail. His teeth nibbled her neck, her spine.

His touch caused her pulse to rush. She wanted him. She would have him. But first, he must prove he could catch her. Tipping back her head, she issued a trumpeting challenge and skyrocketed straight for the roof.

Up for the chase, he followed with a roar that shot sparks of heat down her spine. When they both reached the zenith, his talons clasped hers and tipped her upside down. Blood rushed to her head. Her talons prickled with warmth. And her scales rioted with heat.

Together, they spiraled downward, and during their crazy plunge, he mated with her swiftly, madly, deeply, his hardness filling her. His talons held her fast and hard as the wind rippled over her scales. Tension gathered in her core as he stroked and pumped inside her. Arching her neck back with a throaty roar, she spasmed and shot fire as she took his seed deep into her body.

Their breath mingled. Their fire entwined. Their spirits and life forces joined.

At the last moment, they separated. And Cael felt beautiful, whole.

Cael landed on the bottom of the cavern next to the east wall and humanshaped. Lucan landed beside her. Naked and languid, she faced her dragon. Her lover.

Damn, he looked ferocious. Eyes dark with dragon passion, he nuzzled her with his hot breath. Her gorgeous lover had matched her fire in every way. Her dragon didn’t care about Lucan’s deception. Her dragon side recognized what she didn’t want to acknowledge. Lucan was her perfect mate.

Then he humanshaped.

Lucan stood before her, his breath ragged, his chest glistening with sweat. His eyes pierced hers with a possessive fire, and she recalled the way his body had locked with hers. Heat rose up her neck. Their pairing had been primitive and animalistic. Savage. Good and right.

She wondered if he’d ever acknowledge that although they were from different worlds, they were meant to be together. Not just this once. But for always.

He stared at her, the pulse in his neck ticking, once again his emotional barrier solidly in place.

Lucan drew her into his arms. “That was crazy.”

“Insane.” She snuggled against his chest, satiated and exhausted, not from their dragon mating, but from the hours she’d spent as a human, fighting with herself. The truth was that she’d always wanted Lucan. She wanted him still.

He tipped up her chin and peered into her eyes. “I wouldn’t have lied for anything less than the fate of my world.”

She swallowed hard. He meant every word.

“Lucan!” A voice echoed downg to work. Avalon’s builders wouldn’t have gone to this much trouble to protect the Grail unless it was special.”

“You think the Grail will save Jaylon?”

“Before we can help your nephew, we have to find a way out.”

Exhaustion in her eyes and the sagging of her shoulders indicated she was close to collapse. Even her voice was weary. “Any suggestions?”

He frowned. “While we were flying, I saw nothing to indicate an exit. Avalon’s builders may not have put in a back door—especially if they built this place to keep the Grail from the Tribes.”

“If their only goal was to keep the Grail from the Tribes, they could have destroyed it. But they didn’t. My people went to great effort and expense to build Avalon—so we would have the Grail.”

Her words made sense. “Then we must be smart enough to figure out the clues they left for us.”

“Clues?” Cael sighed and studied the bluish walls.

“Maybe we have to do something. Or find something.”

“There’s nothing here. Nothing but us and the Grail.”

“That’s it.” Lucan leaned down and kissed her lips. “You’re a genius.”

“Me? What did I say?” Cael frowned and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes.

“The answer must be in the Grail.” Lucan lifted the Grail by the handles and turned it around. Beautifully sculpted, the Grail was light and easy to hold, perfectly balanced in his hands. He tipped it upside down, inspected the lip, the handles, the base. And found nothing.

He peered inside the cup. Nothing there, either.

Slowly he inserted his hand into the cup, but his fingers were too big to reach the narrow bottom. “You try.” He held the Grail out to Cael.

She ran a finger over the lip. “Did you feel warmth in the metal?”

He hadn’t felt a thing. “Is the Grail reacting to you?”

“I’m not sure. But I have this compulsion to drink from the cup. Isn’t that odd?”

“There was a small spring among these rocks.” Lucan took the Grail, rushed to the spring he’d sighted earlier, and dipped water into the cup. He returned to Cael and handed her the artifact. “Don’t fight it.”

“You’re sure?”

He shrugged. “What have we got to lose?”

Cael lifted the cup and sipped the water. “This metal’s part platinum. Concentrated platinum.” She stood up straighter. “I feel stronger, but not strong enough to dragonshape yet.”

Where her mouth had touched the cup, the Grail had changed from his best efforts, he’d fallen in love with her.

Cael blessed the child, then kissed the air over the baby’s forehead. She tucked the blanket tighter around the child’s shoulder, then handed the infant back to her mother, still careful not to touch her flesh. “She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, my lady.” The young mother’s eyes sparkled. Clearly this was a moment she would tell her grandchildren about.

The proud young mother left the corridor and headed back to her quarters, and Lucan wished he had some privacy. But now was not the time to tell Cael his feelings.

Some moments were not to be shared. Besides, with his flashes, Rion might have already seen some of Lucan’s future. Lucan refused to ask. If he and Cael couldn’t work out the difficult situation and find a way to be together, he didn’t want to hear about it. Better to savor how much he loved her right now in this moment. The future was impossible. And they’d already delayed too long.

Jaylon’s room was crowded. And silent—except for beeping monitors and the labored sound of a breathing machine. Although flowers decorated the room, it had the overclean smell of bleached sheets, medicines, and antiseptics.

Jaylon’s mother looked up as they entered the room. Sonelle’s eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, but she wasn’t crying now. Lucan suspected she had no tears left. Still and silent, she held the little boy’s hand tightly clenched in her own.

Jaylon’s skin was pale, his eyes closed, and his breathing shallow. Depuck, mostly recovered from the beating he’d suffered at the residence, stood beside Nisco.

Several solemn healers moved around the room, monitoring instruments. A nurse fluffed a pillow. But clearly, they were all helpless as Jaylon struggled to breathe.

When the sisters spied Cael, they didn’t utter a greeting. They didn’t smile. Their gazes slowly moved to the Grail she held in her hands. Sonelle released her son’s hand and gestured for Cael to take her place at his side. “You came.”

“With the Grail?” Nisco’s voice rose in hope. “Is that the Grail?”

Cael nodded. “Are you all right?”

Nisco shrugged. “I sent a copy of those specs to the press. Since it hit the airwaves and the secret’s out, there’s no longer a reason for the military to come after me.”

“And you, Depuck?” Cael asked.

“He’s healing.” Nisco stepped away from Jaylon and gestured Cael forward.

Cael leaned over her nephew and kissed his forehead.

One of the physicians gasped.

“I’m allowed to touch the boy to heal him,” Cael said with quiet dignity. Jaylon’s eyes didn’t flutter, and she took his hand and squeezed. “Is he conscious?”

Sonelle "0em" width="27">Cael wrapped the boy’s fingers on the Grail’s handle. Unlike when Cael had touched the Grail, the coppery shimmer didn’t turn to scarlet. Lucan didn’t know if this was because the child didn’t have dragonblood or because the life in him was too weak to register. Cael waited a full minute.

No one spoke. Tension escalated.

The monitors didn’t change. Jaylon didn’t open his eyes. His color remained pale.

Cael looked at Lucan, her gaze frustrated and filled with haunting pain.

Lucan picked up a glass and poured water into the Grail. Cael tilted the cup to the child, and water trickled between his bluish lips. Most of the liquid dribbled onto the pillow. But a few drops entered his mouth.

Jaylon coughed and opened his eyes. Cael smiled, a smile that lit up her entire face. “Jaylon, I brought you the Grail like I promised. Sweetie, can you drink a little more for me?”

When Jaylon didn’t answer, Sonelle climbed onto the bed, sat behind her son, and propped him upright. “You can do this, baby, after all you’ve been through. Just do one more thing. Drink.”

Again Cael held the cup to his mouth. And Jaylon sipped. He swallowed once. Twice. Then his head lolled to the side. The buzzers and alarms on the medical equipment shrieked in shrill beeps.

“By the Goddess.” Sonelle, her face racked with grief, scowled at Cael. “What have you done?”

Lucan didn’t understand how Sonelle could be so cruel. Couldn’t Sonelle see how badly Cael wanted to cure Jaylon? Didn’t she comprehend that Cael was risking her own life to come here?

At her sister’s question, Cael’s lips tightened and pain thundered in her eyes. But she kept her silence with a strength that astounded him.

Still, he ached to comfort her. Leaning over the bed and Jaylon, Lucan squeezed Cael’s hand. “You did what you could.”

“Is he… gone?” Nisco whimpered, her gaze also turning on Cael in horror.

More pain filled Cael’s eyes, but she held her chin high. How much could her sisters expect her to take? Clenching the Grail tightly to her chest, Cael again let the insult go. She smoothed Jaylon’s hair from his face. “Come on, little guy. Fight.”

Healers clustered around Jaylon. They shook their heads and stepped back. “He still has a pulse,” one observed. “He still breathes.”

Everyone knew from the healer’s tone that he didn’t expect Jaylon to live much longer.

Sonelle shuddered and pointed at Cael. “You’ve weakened him.”

Cael shook with anger. “Iont size="3">Lucan placed an arm over Cael’s shoulders. “You’ve done everything you could.”

“Not everything.” Cael removed Jaylon’s blanket and sheet, then raised his gown to reveal his chest. Next she picked up a sharp instrument from a suturing kit.

“What are you doing?” Sonelle screamed and lunged at Cael.

Lucan stepped between Sonelle and Cael, giving her room to proceed.

“No.” Nisco lunged to grab Cael’s hand. “Let him go in peace.”

“Let the High Priestess do her work.” Rion wrapped his arms around Nisco, pulling her back.

Cael’s mouth tightened in determination. She clenched the sharp instrument. Then she pierced Jaylon between his ribs.

“Are you mad?” Sonelle screamed, struggling, tears streaming down her face, but Lucan held her back. “You’ve stabbed him in the heart.”

“No,” Cael corrected her. “His lung.”

Whatever she’d hit, blood spurted, covering Cael’s hands, her neck, her clothing. The monitors shrieked. Her sisters cursed and sobbed. More healers rushed in, but when they saw the High Priestess, they shuffled back from the bed.

Cael paid them no attention. As if in a queenly trance, she poured the rest of the Grail’s water over Jaylon’s wound. Beside her, Lucan saw the agony in her eyes, the tremble in her hands.

Was this a mercy killing?

“Why?” he asked, still stunned, his heart aching for her. She’d gone through so much. To fail Jaylon would haunt her the rest of her days.

“Legend says whoever possesses the Grail, their armies won’t die in battle,” Cael intoned.

“But Jaylon isn’t a soldier. He’s ill,” Rion said.

“Exactly.” Cael nodded. “So I gave him a battle wound.”

Sonelle’s face crumpled with grief, and tears ravaged her cheeks. “I will never, ever forgive you. I don’t care if you are the High Priestess. You’ve killed my son.”

“Sonelle, Jaylon was dying. I may have robbed him of his last painful breaths, but…” Cael wiped the boy’s blood from her hands, and then she froze.

Lucan followed her gaze. Jaylon’s bloody chest wound had stopped bleeding. The wound was closing. Healing.

“Oh… my… God.” Lucan squeezed her hand. “The Grail—”

“Is closing his wound. But will it heal his illness?” Cael peered at the monitors, and then she raised teary eyes to Lucan’s. “He’s growing stronger.” Her voice broke with relief. “His white cell count’s approaching normal. His cells are repairing themselves.”

Her words sent his thoughts spinning. “If the Grail can repair cell damage width="27">“What are you saying? Tell me,” Sonelle demanded.

Lucan caught the woman’s gaze, had to stop himself from shaking her. Keeping his temper, he said with careful deliberation, “Cael has cured your son. He’s going to live. And you, my lady, owe your sister an apology.”

Sonelle ignored him and lunged toward Jaylon. This time, Lucan let her go. “Jaylon. Jaylon, baby. Mom’s here. You’re going to be well.”

Jaylon opened his eyes and peered over his mother’s shoulder. His gaze went from the Grail to Cael, still covered in his blood. “Thank you.” He reached out to Cael, and they hugged. When she straightened, tears of happiness streamed from her eyes.

Jaylon took his mother’s hands. “Mom, you need to thank her, too.”

Sonelle shook her head and broke down into heart-wrenching sobs, but she wouldn’t look at Cael. “She stabbed you.”

Cael smiled at Jaylon over his mother’s shoulder. “It’s all right.”

“But—”

“Remember what I told you when you first got sick and the other children made fun of you?”

“That some people can’t see beyond their own past.”

“Exactly.” She nodded approval. “That doesn’t mean we love them any less.”

By the Goddess. That she could forgive her sister floored Lucan. But no one else seemed surprised, as if they expected this kind of sacrifice, nobility, and honor from her. But she was human. She had feelings. And after she’d saved Jaylon’s life, the least her sister could do was—

The woman whose baby Cael had blessed earlier barged into the room. “My lady, soldiers are in the lobby, demanding that you give yourself up to them. A Sir Quentin is with them.”

Lucan suppressed a curse. Coming to the medical center had been a too-predictable move. But they’d saved Jaylon’s life. He couldn’t regret their decision.

“Thank you.” Cael turned from the young mother to Jaylon and again kissed him on the forehead. “We must go, sweetie.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Depuck asked.

“Trade clothes with us,” Lucan said. “Rion, find us some weapons. We need to get up to the roof.”

Sometimes only a good heart can save the world.

—ARTHUR PENDRAGON

23

“They were waiting for us,” Lucan said.

They couldn’t all get away, but perhaps Cael could help Lucan and Rion escape. She knew in her hearts that Lucan would never agree to leave her behind. Not if he was conscious.

While Lucan was distracted by the sight outside the window, Cael handed Rion a syringe, jerked her thumb at Lucan, and lowered her voice to a whisper so only Rion could hear. “You might have to use this on him.”

Rion palmed the syringe and kept his voice low.

“What’s it do?”

“It’ll put him to sleep.”

Rion nodded and didn’t ask questions, bless him.

With a nod good-bye to her family, she led the men from Jaylon’s bedroom. She didn’t want her sisters privy to their plans or blamed for their actions.

Before she changed her mind, she spoke with all the authority she could muster, “You two should hide while I go talk to Quentin.”

“No.” Lucan’s gaze pierced hers. “I’m not letting you—”

“You’re not in charge.” Cael drew her High Priestess aura around her like armor. Later she would allow herself to feel the pain of losing him, but not now. “You and Rion must escape with the Grail while I draw their attention to me.”

Rion remained silent.

Lucan scowled and blocked her from leaving. “You aren’t sacrificing yourself for us. Splitting up is not an option.”

“We don’t have time to argue.”

He didn’t move. Eyes hard, arms crossed over his chest, hip cocked, he radiated a charged dominance. “And what happens when they discover you don’t have the Grail?”

“By then, you’ll be long gone.” She forced herself to meet Lucan’s eyes with a serenity she was far from feeling. This was good-bye. She swallowed hard. For Cael and Lucan, there would be no tomorrow. “You have the Grail. Go save your people so they can save us all from the Tribes.”

“I can’t let you do this.” Lucan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She wanted to lean into him. Instead, already feeling an acute sense of loss, she stepped back. “Most of my people are decent, and I may yet clear my name of the murder charges. Even if I can’t, I got what I wanted. Jaylon’s well.”

"3">Lying to these men didn’t faze her. She would do whatever she must to protect her people and keep Lucan and Rion safe. “On the way here, I hid the Grail in the mountains between Avalon and Feridon.”

“You lie.” Quentin growled. He looked to Brennon, who was clearly in charge, even if Quentin was asking most of the questions.

Cael shrugged and held Quentin’s gaze. “While the men answered a call of nature, I buried the Grail.”

Sir Quentin raised his eyebrows. “And after they returned, they didn’t notice the Grail was gone?”

“They knew the military was chasing us. They feared for their lives and were in a great hurry.”

“But the boy, Jaylon, you cured him. And witnesses saw you use—”

“Witnesses saw me pour holy water into Jaylon’s wound. The water cured him. That healing water originally came from the Holy Grail, not the common urn they saw me use.”

Quentin tried to punch holes in her story. “You’re saying you outwitted brilliant scientists. Rion and Lucan are geniuses and had the most innovative minds on my team.”

The team Brennon had destroyed. Almost all of them were dead.

While her pulse thudded with anxiety, she managed to curl her lip in a satisfied smile. “Smart men always believe they’re superior. Fooling them wasn’t difficult.” She’d set the bait. Now she had to reel them in. “I’ll take you to the Grail, but I want something in return.”

Brennon raised his weapon and pointed it at her. “You’re in no position to bargain.”

“The only reason this chain’s around my waist is because I allowed you to put it there.”

Quentin gestured to the military. “You’re surrounded by men and weapons, Lady Cael.”

“I came to you of my own free will. Nothing prevented me from flying away to safety.” Except they would have shot her down, but she ignored that truth. Better to perpetuate the aura that she was invincible. She raised a haughty eyebrow. “And I told Lucan and Rion that I wouldn’t give up the Grail’s location until they helped me save Jaylon. So we came here.” She smiled. “It worked. The boy’s well, and I expect him to make a full recovery. Thank you for your concern.”

“Enough talking,” Quentin said gruffly. “Take us to the Grail.”

“Of course. But in return, I want the murder charges against me dropped.”

“Done.” Brennon had agreed too easily. He had no intention of keeping his word. But she sensed that they now believed her story—because she’d acted in a way they understood. If they’d been in her position, they would have bargained for their lives.

“I can’t fly to the mountains with this noose around my waist.”

“We’re not letting you out of eye">“Cael—”

Rion’s laughter faded. “Without her help, I’d never have gotten us out of there. I’m not sure what she said to Quentin and Brennon, but she bought me time to sneak you out.”

“Where is she?”

“What do you care? You have the Grail. You’re free to go save Earth.”

Is that what Rion thought? That he cared only about Earth and the Grail? That he wasn’t worried sick over Cael in the hands of those bastards? “Damn, I’m not that cold.”

“Hey.” Rion shrugged. “I’m just helping you get what you wanted.”

Lucan grabbed the thermos, gritted his teeth, and poured the rest of the water over his head. The sunlight was frying him, and no wonder. They were on a beach. A very familiar beach.

Damn it. “How did you know…”

“My instruments picked up your spaceship when you landed.”

“And you never said anything.”

“You wouldn’t have trusted me. But I’ve been trying to help you ever since.”

“Why?”

“The Tribes have already invaded my world,” he said with obvious bitterness. “I’ve been trying to get home since I crashed. I hoped you’d give me a ride.”

Lucan could see pain and a longing for home in Rion’s eyes. “What was your plan if I said no?”

Rion shrugged. “I’d wait until the Tribes landed. Steal one of their ships.”

“How come you didn’t try to steal mine?”

“I would have considered it,” Rion said, his tone brutally honest, “but I cannot allow Earth to fall, or my world falls, too.”

“Perhaps we’ll find a way to help your people. You’ve been planning for me to take you to Earth since—”

“The day you landed,” Rion admitted. “Honor’s on your way to Earth. And since your ship is sitting a few hundred yards off this beach”—Rion pointed out to sea—“all we have to do is take the Grail aboard and fly home.”

When Lucan remained silent, Rion clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll be a hero. You’ll save your people. The victory will keep the Tribes at bay. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Lucan didn’t answer. He’d accomplished the first part of his mission. Swimming the Grail out to his ship and flying home was the next step. It should have been a piece of cake.

All he had to do was forget he’d ever met Cael.

AFTER FLYING IN the skimmer craft for an hour, Cael peered out the window oack to his ship. He should be celebrating.

But how could he?

Cael.

God. He’d been prepared for one hell of a journey. He’d expected to get lost, suffer mechanical breakdowns, or run into vicious aliens, but never had he imagined a woman would sacrifice herself for him.

She’d broken Dragonian taboos and given her own blood to save him. And now she’d gifted him with the Grail and sacrificed her life to keep him and his mission alive.

He thought about how she had stood up to him with fire in her eyes. How she’d wept with happiness at Jaylon’s recovery. How she’d responded to his touch. How she’d shared her hopes and her secrets and her sweet body.

How could he leave?

He burned to know what was happening and booted up the computer’s language circuits. “Where’s Lady Cael, High Priestess of Avalon?”

The computer replied, “Six hours ago I picked up the High Priestess on a traffic camera outside Feridon’s medical center.”

Eager for a glimpse of her, Lucan ordered, “Let me see.”

He watched the image of Cael bravely striding up to Quentin, Brennon and his armed men as if those guns couldn’t hurt her. Her face looked brave, her eyes sad. And when her lips moved, he burned to hear the conversation. “Don’t we have audio?”

“It’s encrypted.”

“Decode it.”

Rion joined him and stared at the screen. “I thought we were leaving.”

“We are.” Lucan watched as Cael stood her ground, ignoring the weapons like some high-born queen. She was so brave. So lovely. And she’d faced those armed men—for him. Tightness in his chest had him swallowing hard. Every dragon cell in him longed to fly to her side, but this event had taken place hours ago. She might already be…

He couldn’t finish the thought. He closed his hands into fists recalling how those bastards had chained her. Tortured her. Surely after all they’d shared, he’d know if she was…

When a man placed a chain around her waist and she did nothing to stop him, Lucan swore. Now she could no longer dragonshape and fly free. She’d surrendered her freedom so she could stall their search and give Lucan and Rion time to escape.

“If we don’t go,” Rion said, “her sacrifice will be in vain.”

“This happened hours ago. A lot could have happened since then. Computer—”

“Captain, I’ve broken the code. You should hear this,” the computer said. “It’s coming live from Quentin’s private audio feed to General Brennon.”

Quentin’s voice piped in he Grail and humanity’s future.

But how could he live with himself if he left her to die? If he didn’t try to save her?

His choices had consequences. Terrible, catastrophic consequences. He could either abandon the woman he loved to torture and certain death—or allow humanity to become extinct on Earth. The rational part of him told him he had to forget her, that somehow he had to move on.

But the dragonblood pounding through him reminded him she was his life mate. That life without her would be pure misery. With his mind battling his heart, he felt as if he was being ripped apart.

“Have you seen my future? Are Cael and I reunited?” He hadn’t wanted to know the truth earlier, but now he couldn’t bear not knowing what the future held.

“I’ve seen nothing helpful. Just bits and pieces. Us fighting together.” Rion sighed, his face compassionate. “I’m not even sure if we’re battling on Pendragon or some other world.” Rion clasped his forearm. “I would give you more if I could.”

Lucan spoke to the computer. “Get me every detail on Dragonian weapons and detection systems and a schematic of the residence.” Lucan gestured to Rion and led him toward his own shipboard locker. “Come with me. I want to get you up to speed on our weapons.”

“So if the computer finds us a rescue angle…”

“It won’t hurt to prepare for a fight.” He handed Rion a laser pistol. “Notch one is stun. Two is injure. Three is kill.”

Rion slammed the setting to kill. “What else have you got?”

For a time, the veil will thin, the worlds shall touch, and mankind will reach into the heavens.

—THE LADY OF THE LAKE

25

A few hours ago, Quentin had flown Cael back from the mountains to Carlane. He’d ordered his men to chain her to a chair in a lower room of the residence. Now she was trying to smile at Jaylon, who stood shifting from foot to foot in front of her. Quentin, the bastard, wasn’t above using her family, even a small boy, to get her to give up the Grail. But even if Cael wanted to tell him the Grail’s location—and she didn’t—she had no idea where Lucan and the artifact were now.

She only had a short time—time to reflect, Quentin had said—before his men resorted to torture. If she revealed the Grail’s location, Quentin had promised her a painless death at sundown. With the murder accusation and her fingerprints on the knife in Shaw’s back, she couldn’t prove she was innocent.

Even if the Elders or some of the believers wanted to try to rescue her, the residence was built like a fortress. Over the years these ancient stone walls had been upgraded with modern security systems and would be i>“Don’t tell me how to bring up my son.” Her face twisted in fear and horror. “How could you do this to him?”

Cael sighed. “Jaylon will need your help and your love.”

“No one loves a dragonshaper. You know that.”

Her sand placed his weapon against her forehead.

She closed her eyes and prepared to meet the Goddess. At least there should be little pain.

Still, she shook with terror.

“Fire that weapon and I’ll destroy the Grail.” Lucan spoke softly, his voice edged with fury.

Cael opened her eyes. Lucan was exiting a hatch in the side of the smoking ship with the Grail held firmly in his grasp. Rion covered his back, firing at soldiers who were attempting to pour through holes in the damaged building.

Firing a strange weapon, Lucan wiped out the guards in one swiveling burst of white light.

Lucan had come. He had come to save her.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or sob or curse. But her eyes drank him in like a starving dragon in need of platinum. He had a long cut over his forehead, a bruise under one eye. His tunic was shredded, matted with dirt and soot and blood.

He’d come for her.

But he shouldn’t have. His ship was smoking, sparking. Smashed. The brave fool was going to get himself killed or blow them all up. And now how would he get back to Earth? Yet she was so happy to see him her pulse raced, her hearts danced.

“Let her go,” Lucan demanded, hefting the Grail over his head, “and I’ll give you the Grail.”

Keeping the gun to her head, Quentin reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to the lock that kept her chained. “Hand over the Grail and I’ll give you the key.”

“Don’t believe him,” Cael said. “He killed Sonelle.”

“She was a means to an end,” Quentin boasted. “Unimportant.”

“Not to her son,” Cael argued, hoping to distract Quentin as Lucan edged forward.

Rion took up a position by the door and cut down all who entered. But it was only a matter of time until the military brought in heavy armor and more soldiers swarmed inside. Even with superior firepower, Rion and Lucan couldn’t hold off an entire army.

Lucan stopped advancing on Quentin when the two men were at arm’s length. He held out the Grail with one hand, reached for the key with the other. Then he tossed the Grail straight at Quentin’s face.

Quentin dropped the key and the gun. His fingertips touched the Grail. And Lucan lunged and tackled the man to the floor. The Grail went flying, clanging as it rolled. Wrestling, the men tumbled, arms and legs punching, jabbing and kicking.

Rion grabbed the fallen key and freed Cael. “We have to get out of here.”

Cael kneeled and scooomewhere. Lucan backhanded the other man’s wrist and Quentin yowled in pain, then kneed Lucan in the kidney.

Soldiers broke into the building through a damaged area and another wall crumbled. Cael fired, pushing them back as they dived for cover, wishing she had a clear shot at Quentin. But with the men rolling across the floor, she might hit Lucan by mistake.

Rion kept firing steadily. Outside, the military forces were unifying and coming closer. Merlin suddenly flew in through the open ceiling, and for a moment the owl appeared to dive right at Rion.

What in the universe? The bird had an uncanny ability to tell friend from foe. Why did he look as if he was about to attack Rion?

Cael searched for a reason, peered into the smoke, and her throat closed with fear. “Jaylon.”

The boy was running toward the residence, past soldiers who were firing at Rion from behind he motioned for Rion to leap over the rim. “Get inside. I’ll hand Jaylon to you.”

“You first.” Rion hoisted Cael over the lip. She slid down and immediately turned to catch Jaylon. “Are you all right?” she asked the trembling boy.

Tears trailed down his smudged cheeks. “My mother—”

She hugged him. “I’m sorry.”

Under her feet, the ancient machine rumbled. “Lucan, Rion, get down here.”

The men leaped into the cannon. In the tight confines, Lucan slid down her front, Rion slid down her back. She could barely draw a breath. Merlin flew in, too, and perched on her shoulder.

The old stones around them began to heat. Soldiers were searching for them. She heard Brennon giving orders. “Find them.”

Rion’s elbow was shoved into her side. Lucan had his arms around her and Jaylon. “Rion, tell me you have the Grail?”

Rion shook his head. “I thought you had it.”

“I’ll go back.” Lucan reached for the lip.

Cael tugged him down. “It’s too late.”

Rion agreed. “By now the whole army must be inside the residence.”

Lucan’s muscles tensed. She had to stop him.

“Even if you could climb out”—Cael leaned her cheek into his chest—“when the second wall caved, rubble buried the Grail. You’d need heavy equipment—”

“The High Priestess couldn’t have disappeared into smoke,” Brennon shouted. “Find her!”

The searchers drew closer, but as the cannon fired up, fear entered their voices. “Sir, the floor—”

“Look out, General.”

Suddenly Brennon screamed. “Help me. That’s an order.”

“I can’t, sir. The stones are too hot.”

Brennon cursed.

“Get back or you’ll burn,” another soldier shouted. “We can’t save him.”

Brennon’s screams of terror and pain echoed from the rafters.

Men pulled back. When they spoke, their voices were filled with awe. “What in the Universe?”

“Holy Goddess.”

“Get out. Get out. Get out!”

Ancient engines hummed, and their pitch rose to a whine. Jaylon sobbed and held Cael tight, his little body trembling.

She said softly, “It’ll be all right. We’ll be safe.”

She expected it to hurt but didn’t even feel a sting. “Thanks.”

“Give it a moment and you’ll understand and speak like a native.” Rion also gave one to Jaylon, who stood wide-eyed, clearly a bit overwhelmed, but at least he’d stopped sobbing.

Cael took his hand. “We’re safe.”

“Yes, we are.” Lucan borrowed a phone and called Vivianne Blackstone, the woman who’d funded his mission. Apparently she’d been away on a business trip and was on her way back here. In the meantime, the woman had graciously arranged for a vehicle to take everyone to her residence in London.

Jaylon pressed his nose to the glass during the ride, and Cael was as eager as he to get her first look at Lucan’s world. While the buildings in the city were spectacular and the scents enticing, everyone seemed so old. And sadness permeated these people.

But their welcome was warm, and two hours later, after they’d dined on fish and chips and Jaylon’s new favorite, three-cheese toast, they were shown to private quarters. Rion was ensconced in Vivianne’s guest room. Cael and Lucan shared a suite, and Lucan jumped in the shower while she put an exhausted Jaylon to bed across the hall.

Cael hoped the dark circles under his eyes would go away as he recovered his strength. He’d been through so much. But he was strong, he was healthy, and he would be safe here. She’d make certain of it.

After pulling back the bedcovers, she patted the soft pillow. “Come here, little guy. I know you’re tired.”

Jaylon yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Are we staying on this planet?”

She smoothed his hair and smiled a reassuring smile. “For now.” Cael and Lucan hadn’t had a chance to talk since they’d landed on Earth. “Is that all right with you?”

He nodded, but she could see the lingering fear in his eyes, and sadness. Cael sat on the bed. She lifted the child into her arms, rested her cheek on his head. “No one can ever take the place of your mother, but you and I can be a family. Would you like that?”

Jaylon was quiet for a while. Then his arms tightened around her. “You’ll teach me to fly?”

“Of course I'll try.” She laughed. She helped settle him in the warm bed, tucked the covers around him. She kissed his forehead, feeling the responsibility of her newfound motherhood. “I love you. Now go to sleep, sweetie.”

He closed his eyes and before long fell into a deep sleep. Her hearts ached for him. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she made a silent vow to Sonelle that she would love the boy as her own.

When Cael returned to their suite, Lucan was on the phone. He covered the mouthpiece for a moment. “I’m talking to my family. There’s a hot bath waiting for you.” He pointed to the bathing area.

“A bath would be heavent back to his phone call, and she could feel the joyous emotions flooding through him and imagined everyone talking at once as Lucan assured his parents and sister he was back safely on Earth. She left him making plans to meet them in London tomorrow and followed the steam to the large tub.

He and his family had years of catching up to do. She was happy for him, but she’d gotten spoiled having him all to herself. The thought brought a smile to her lips.

She and Lucan had never spoken about a future. He’d never planned beyond his mission. But now with her here with him on Earth, they had all kinds of options. And she couldn’t wait to talk to him. This might be her last night alone with him for a while.

She was too on edge to relax in the luxurious bath, scented with oils. Still, she took her time, enjoying the fresh citrus soap that made her feel refreshed. After drying in a thick terry towel, she slipped into a belted robe and padded over the thick carpeting into their suite.

Lucan was sitting in front of a computer. His desk overlooked a manicured garden lit up at night for a romantic effect. But he was staring resolutely at his monitor, his excitement visibly gone.

She came up behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. He kept typing but spoke at the same time. “Remember the paper Rion gave me?”

“The one Nisco’s PI stole from General Brennon’s briefcase?” she asked.

“We thought they wanted it back so badly because of the tracking technology. But we were wrong.”

She peered at the symbols on the screen. “It was the writing on the back they wanted to keep secret?”

“Yes.” He glanced up at her, and her hearts sank to see those eyes dark with worry. “I’ve seen that writing before. Inside the cave with the giant waterfall. While you slept, I explored and found a poem about Arthur carved in the wall. Beside it was another poem in a different language. My notes are back on Pendragon, but I have a pretty good memory. I typed both poems into the computer on my spaceship, and luckily for us, it’s the same poem in two languages.”

She tensed. “Which means you can translate the writing on Brennon’s paper?”

“Some of it.” Lucan’s tone was grim. “Enough to know that after the Tribes secure the Grail, they’re planning a huge invasion.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.” Lucan exhaled heavily. She kneaded the muscles in his neck, found him so tense, so worried. This was no homecoming. He had lost the Grail because he’d saved her. She could feel him hurting with frustration and guilt, wanted to ease the turmoil of a situation that hadn’t left him any choices. Any good ones, anyway.

As if realizing she could read him, he rose from his chair and took her into his arms. “I’m glad you’re here.”

And he was. She could feel him pouring fierce joy and bittersweet happiness into his kiss. A kiss that was downright possessive, demanding and sexy as hell. She’d wanted to be wanted by this man, but who could have foreseen such love coming out of such danger, for his world, for her world? No. She could never have imagined this. Not when the future before her on Pen-dragon had been one of isolation and loneliness. Now she adored the way he wanted her. The way she no longer felt alone.

Arching into him, she let her robe slide to the floor. She ripped off his shirt, unfastened his slacks, all the while dragging her palms along his hard flesh. He’d always been fit. But now his muscles were denser, harder, more powerful and honed.

Without breaking their kiss, he easily lifted her and carried her to the bed. The heat in his eyes melted her. No matter what planet they were on, he desired her and she desired him. That much hadn’t changed.

Already she ached to have him inside her. Reaching between their bodies, she used her fingertips to tease the ridge along the knob of his sex. He jerked in her hand, and she stroked him where he was hard, cupped him where he was soft, all the while enjoying the blast of tension radiating from him.

With a groan of need, he dipped his head, took her nipple between his lips, and laved the tip with his tongue. The swirling sensation set her mind spinning. Her breath rasped. But when she caught the fire in his gaze, the mischievous glint in his eyes, she suspected that this would be a night of all nights to remember.

Lucan sucked on one nipple, then the other, then licked his way down to her belly. Gently he parted her legs and kneeled between them. Slowly he opened her moist folds. And then he dipped the tip of his sex into her moisture, using her wetness to make his flesh slick.

Expecting him to press in further, she lifted her hips, but instead of filling her, he slid his sex over her folds, back and forth over her clit. The delicious friction had her writhing against him.

“More,” she demanded.

“You like?” He gave her slow and easy, each stroke enticing and exciting.

She didn’t know she could pulse with such need. She didn’t know that her whole world had been reduced to waiting for his next caress. And with his hard flesh stroking back and forth against her moist folds, she was clutching his thighs, urging him to go faster, the coos coming from the back of her throat, urgent and needy.

She exploded, the wave of pleasure breaking over her in a long, smooth crest. Lucan kept caressing her with his sex, his momentum never changing, his pace never slowing. Her spasm kept going, like she was riding a tidal wave ripping along the shore.

“Easy,” she murmured, thrashing. Her nerve endings were so sensitive, his slightest touch had her trembling.

Lucan leaned down and kissed her mouth. And when he did, she rolled until she was on top. In one smooth motion, she took him deep inside her—and then held perfectly stilla breath. “You… feel… good.”

She squeezed harder, released him, then squeezed again, finding a rhythm that pleased her and that caused the irises in his eyes to darken to dragon purple. Sensing he was barely hanging on, she lifted her hips and began to ride him. His hand sneaked back between her moist folds. He placed a fingertip on her clit, drawing her taut with tension. Her head began to spin. Her hearts pumped so fast that all her blood seemed to rush to where his finger tapped a dance and his sex plunged in and out.

She exploded again and collapsed on top of him. He gave her only a few seconds to recover, stroking the back on her head, before he rolled and she ended up on her back, realizing he still hadn’t finished.

Again, he kneeled between her thighs. She was so sensitive she could barely stand the pleasure. And yet she was already gathering, her body tensing under his touch. Light-headed, toes curled, she reached down and tugged his hips, bringing him into her. Then she wound her legs around his back, crossed her ankles, and reached down beneath his sex. While his hips thrust into her and pulled back out, she held on to his balls, teasing, cupping, tugging. And when they tightened and his breath rasped harsh in his chest, when she felt him gathering to explode, she slammed her hips up at him, tugged with her hands, and felt his seed pour into her.

His excitement took her right over the edge again. And the intensity of her pleasure left her numb. Satiated. Languid. She had no idea what the future would hold for them, but for the first time Cael was able to hope, dream, and imagine.

She may have slept for a few moments or even hours. When she opened her eyes again, he’d pulled the sheets over them. She lay snuggled against his warm chest, surprised to find him tense, worried.

She rolled onto her side and rested her cheek in her palm. Lucan reached over and held her hand. “I just checked on Jaylon, he’s fine.”

“Sonelle always said he’s a heavy sleeper and never wakes up during the night.”

“I don’t know anything about children.”

Cael grinned at Lucan. “You and your people had better get used to children.” She dropped her hand to her stomach and covered it protectively. “We’re going to be parents.”

He stared at her with skeptical eyes. “Without the Grail… it’s not possible.”

“We don’t need the Grail.”

He scowled. “Cael, I’m sterile. All of Earth is sterile.”

She placed his hand low on her belly. “I can already feel our babies.”

“You’re pregnant?” His gaze lifted to hers in wonder.

“With twins.”

“How do you know?”

She laughed. “I’m an empath, remember? I can feel their emotions.”

She shook her head. “Jaylon required a battle wound for the Grail to heal him, remember?”

He raised an eyebrow. “So how did I get you pregnant?”

Cael chuckled. “Surely you haven’t forgotten how we paired—”

“I remember.” His voice was husky. “If the Grail didn’t cure my infertility, then what did?”

“My dragonblood healed you.”

“Sweet Lord. Of course. Your dragonblood set off all kinds of changes in my biology.”

“First your vision sharpened, and you no longer needed your glasses. Then you became stronger. Grew scales. Shapeshifted into a dragon. And now you’re fertile. Now we’re going to have twins.”

He grinned so broadly she couldn’t doubt his excitement.

Cael nodded. “If your people can synthesize my blood—”

“You think we can cure everyone? Or only those who are related to King Arthur?”

“Dragonshaping and infertility involve different genes. A cure should work for everyone.”

Lucan whooped and hugged her. “Earth will have the mother of all baby booms. I can’t wait to tell my sister. Lady, do you know I love you?”

“How do you feel about Jaylon?”

“He’s a great kid. Why?”

“I intend to raise him as my son.”

“You think he’d accept me for his father?”

“His own father abandoned him and he’s always longed for him. He’ll be delighted.” Cael snuggled happily against Lucan, loving that he was worried about the boy accepting him.

Lucan placed a hand on her belly. “How long does it take a baby dragonshaper to be born?”

“I don’t know.” She placed her hand over his. “But if they grow as fast as I heal, we’re going to be parents quite soon.”

“Are they empathic, too?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.” She squeezed his hand. “This is new territory for me, too.”

“It’s going to be new for everyone on Earth. Those of my people in Arthur’s bloodline will turn into dragonshapers.”

“Will that be so terrible?”

He laughed. “I’m looking forward to adding to the Pendragon legacy.” He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. “How do you feel about staying here and having a large family?”

“Sok into the circuits, no doubt following an electrical schematic that existed only inside his head.

He threaded a wire into a panel box of delicately networked circuits. “Hand me a screwdriver.”

Scowling at his back, she slapped the tool into his hand. “Tell me these findings are wrong,” Vivianne demanded.

“What findings?” His profile, rugged and somber, remained utterly still, except for a tiny tick in his jaw that told her he was unhappy she’d interrupted his work. He wouldn’t even have a job if not for her—and he would lose it, if he didn’t come up with a satisfactory explanation for why his entire résumé had been one big, fat lie.

“You’ve never attended Harvard. Never got your PhD at MIT. Never taught at Cambridge.”

“The Phillips head.” He held out his hand again, and this time his voice was laced with impatience. “It’s the screwdriver with an X on the tip.”

Like she didn’t know a Phillips head when she saw one? While her specialty was communications technology, she’d designed and built her first hydrogen rocket by age twelve. However, when it came to spaceship design, Jordan was the go-to guy.

Despite his doctored résumé, the man knew his aeronautical engineering. From hull design to anti-grav wiring, no detail on the Draco was too small for Jordan to reengineer and make more efficient.

One of Jordan’s engineers spoke over the ship’s intercom. “These voltage converter equations can’t be right.”

“They are,” Jordan answered evenly.

“They’re frying the circuits.” The man’s frustration was evident in his tone.

“Sean, you’ll find a way to keep them humming. You always do.”

“I’m stumped.”

“I’ll give you a hand as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“But I’m sure you’ll figure it out before then.”

Sean chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

While this was a side of Jordan she hadn’t seen, his encouragement didn’t surprise her. But it wasn’t his leadership skills she questioned. Vivianne’s gut churned. “Jordan, we really need to talk.”

“So talk.”

Vivianne paused and considered precisely what to say. She’d already made one mistake by hiring Jordan before he’d been properly vetted. She couldn’t afford to make another—like accusing him outright of being a spy.

“As the first hyperspace ship to carry a full crew, the Draco has caught the imagination and attention of the masses. Everything we do is headline news, and when the press finds out that my chief engineer faFor all she knew, once he attached the strange power source to the Draco, they’d all blow up. Unnerved, she reached for her handheld communicator to call security, but there was no time. It would take only a second for him to snap the Ancient Staff into the housing.

She’d have to stop him herself. “Turn it off.”

“The staff doesn’t have an off switch.”

Vivianne jerked backward a step. “Don’t attach that thing to my ship.”

“It’s meant to—”

“I said no.” Mouth dry with suspicion, she clamped her hand on his shoulder.

Before she could yank him back, Jordan snapped the rod into place. The anxiety she’d been holding back knotted in her stomach.

But controlling her fear was the least of her worries as the air around the rod shimmered, then spread up his arm.

“What type of energy is this?” she asked.

“The powerful kind.”

“The engines can deal with that kind of power?”

“I hope so.”

The energy crawled all the way up his arm and stretched toward her hand. She tried to jerk back, but her body refused to obey her mind. Her feet wouldn’t move. Her fingers might as well have been frozen.

Panicked, she watched the glow of energy flow over Jordan’s shoulder to her hand. Every hair on the back of her neck standing on end, she braced for pain. But when the glowing energy engulfed her fingers and washed up her arm, then sluiced over her body, the tingling sensation somehow banished her headache and expelled her fear.

The effect was instantaneous and undeniable. Her breasts tingled. Her skin flamed as if she and Jordan had spent the past fifteen minutes engaging in fore-play rather than arguing over his nonexistent past. She’d always found him attractive, but now it was if the staff had turned on a switch inside her. She swallowed thickly. If he felt the same effects, he wasn’t showing it.

Every centimeter of her skin now was demanding to be stroked. Unwarranted sensations exploded all over her erogenous zones. Her nipples tightened, exquisitely sensitized. The scales on the insides of her arms and legs fluttered. Sweet juice seeped between her thighs.

Drenched in pure lust, she shook her head, trying to clear it. “What the hell is going on?”

“Don’t know.” Jordan practically growled, as if it took superhuman effort just to speak.

So he felt as totally, inexplicably aroused as she did. Obviously, he wasn’t handling it well, either, but that didn’t stop desire from rushing through all her senses.

She craved him like a starving dragon needs platinum, yet this cfont>

But there was no fighting or denying the potent passion slamming her. Sexual need burned into her flesh, blazed in her bones, smoldered through her blood, the sensations fiery hot.

If she didn’t have sex in the next few seconds, she was certain she would spontaneously combust.

THE DISH

Where authors give you the inside scoop!

From the desk of Susan Kearney

Dear Reader,

I came up with my idea for LUCAN (on sale now), the first book in the Pendragon Legacy Trilogy, in the usual way. A time machine landed in my backyard early one morning, and I forgot all about sleeping in—especially after a hunky alien sauntered right up to my back porch and knocked.

Scrambling from bed, I yanked on a cami and jeans, stashed a tape recorder in my back pocket and ran my fingers through my hair. Like any working writer worth her publisher’s advance, I was willing to forego sleep for the sake of research.

I yanked open the back door.

Did I mention the guy was hot? No way would I have guessed he was an archeologist back from a mission to a planet named Pendragon. But I’m getting ahead of myself. From his squared jaw to the intelligent gleam in his eyes to his ripped chest, Lucan was all macho male.

And for the next few hours he was all mine.

“I understand you’re interested in love stories written in the future,” Lucan said, his lips widening into a charming grin.

“I am.” Heart pounding with excitement, I joined him on the porch. We each took a chair.

Lucan steepled his hands under his chin. “In the future, global pollution will cause worldwide sterility.”

Uh-oh. “Humanity is going to die?” I asked.

“Our best hope will be a star map I found in King Arthur’s castle.”

“A star map…” Oh, that sounded exciting. “You followed the map to the stars?”

“To find the Holy Grail.”

“Because the Holy Grail will cure Earth’s infertility problem?”

He nodded and I was pleased. I was a writer for a reason. I could put clues together. But I wanted more. “You mentioned a love story?”

Lucan’s face softened. “Lady Caelranoia).

In TALL, DARK & FANGSOME (on sale now), the fifth and final book in the series, Sarah finds all of her vampire-related issues coming to a head. Her nightwalker curse seems likely to turn her permanently into an evil, bloodsucking vamp; she’s being blackmailed into helping Gideon Chase, the leader of the vampire hunters, become the strongest vamp ever created; and her romance with master vamp Thierry seems destined to break both of their hearts.

Life sure ain’t easy for a vamp.

How will it all work out? Will Sarah get the happily ever after she’s been hoping for?

I wish I knew!

(Ha. I do know. I wrote it! But I can’t just give away the ending so easily, can I?)

What I know for sure is that writing these crazy characters for the past five-plus years has been a pleasure and I’m going to miss them very much! I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey and that you’re as pleased as I am with the ending to Sarah’s story…

Happy Reading!

www.michellerowen.com