Ash gave a low groan in pain. “But she spoke of Arthur. What if he still lives?”

“My brother is dead and in his grave,” she hissed. “I should know, I buried him myself.”

Something that might have been relief flashed through the blue eyes. “Then I must call for soldiers. You can’t face her alone.”

“Ah yes, my soldiers.” Releasing her hold on the fairy’s chin, Morgana turned to stalk across the cramped room. “They have proven so terribly useful, do you not think, Ash?”

“There have been…difficulties, my Queen.”

With a swift motion, Morgana turned, her burst of power shattering the mirror that stood in the corner.

“So I am told with monotonous regularity,” she said, her voice thick with disgust. How many fairies had she sent to capture Anna Randal only to be disappointed time after time? Clearly, she had been gone from the world too long. “It seems more likely that my beloved subjects have grown lax over the centuries. Or perhaps they have forgotten just how nasty my temper can be when I am disappointed.”

Ash swayed and nearly tumbled backwards. “No, my Queen, we have not forgotten.”

“Still, I think a reminder would not come amiss.” She smiled, and Ash gave up his efforts and slumped sideways in a deep swoon. Moving forward, Morgana casually kicked his limp body into a distant corner before moving across the room to pull open the small, dark closet. A portion of her seething fury eased as she caught sight of the red-haired imp that hung by his neck from an exposed beam. Few things pleased her more than punishing a traitor, and Troy, Prince of Imps, had proven that he was a turncoat of the worst sort. For a moment she considered the notion of devoting a few hours to stripping the skin off the brawny imp, only to give a shake of her head. She was weary of sending out her incompetent, bumbling fairies to disappoint her over and over. It was time to take matters into her own hands. And this treacherous imp was the perfect means to accomplish her task.

Stepping forward, she chuckled as Troy’s emerald eyes flashed with soul-deep fear.

“Well, well, Troy. It appears that you are to be given a chance to redeem yourself in the eyes of your queen.” She reached up to place a hand on his chest, smiling as he screamed in pain. “If you don’t want to spend the rest of eternity being my plaything I suggest you don’t screw it up this time.”

It was nearly two hours later when Anna and Cezar at last emerged from their underground room and made their way toward Viper’s private study at the back of the large, but charmingly unpretentious, country house.

They had showered (a slow, hot, delicious shower) and changed into the clothes that Viper had sent to them, and since Cezar had earlier contacted his host and asked that he request Styx to meet him here, he knew they would impatiently be awaiting their arrival.

Still, he found his feet halting before he could reach the door to the study, as if they had acquired a mind of their own.

At his side, Anna turned to face him. “Is something wrong?”

“I wish…” His voice was thick, his body feeling stiff and awkward. Dios. He’d never felt fear such as this. Not even when he was wading through the bloodiest of battles. “I wish this was over and done with so we could just be together.”

A sad smile touched her lips. “Yes.”

On the point of reaching for her, Cezar was halted as the door was yanked open and Styx stepped into sight. As always, the looming Aztec looked ominous in his black leather and braided hair.

“Night is wasting, amigo,” the Anasso rasped. “We need to make our plans.”

“We’re coming,” Cezar muttered, his narrowed gaze sending Styx retreating back to the study with a wry smile. Waiting until they were alone, he reached to take Anna’s hand. He frowned as he realized it was even colder than his own. Quite a feat for a warm-blooded woman. “Ready, querida?”

She gave a short laugh. “Are you kidding?”

“Are you as ready as you will ever be?”

She sucked in a deep breath. “As long as you’re at my side.”

He squeezed her fingers. “Forever.”

“Then let’s do this.”

Hand in hand they entered the study. Cezar instinctively sent a searching gaze around the room, noting the French doors set between the desk and long bookcases, and the window near the matching leather chairs. Only when he was confident there were no lurking fairies waiting to leap into the house did he turn his attention to the three vampires peering at something on the far wall.

Viper and Styx were easily recognizable, but it took a moment before he realized he knew the third vampire with his long blond braid and massive body.

Jagr.

“Dios,” he breathed, shoving Anna behind his body as Styx hurriedly joined him near the door. “What’s he doing here?”

“Who is it?” Anna demanded, smacking him in the middle of the back.

“Anna.” Moving around Cezar, Styx offered a small bow of his head. “My wife has prepared dinner for you in the kitchen. She hopes that you will join her there.”

Cezar turned to watch the conflicting emotions that flitted over his mate’s expressive face. On one hand she understood the need to eat and keep up her strength; on the other she didn’t want to be left out of the planning. With a smile he ran the back of his fingers down her cheek.

“You must eat, Anna. We will make no decisions without you.”

Her gaze warned of dire retributions if he didn’t keep his word before she grudgingly turned and headed back out the door.

Cezar couldn’t deny a small flare of relief at her departure. He didn’t want Anna anywhere near Jagr. Hell, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be near Jagr.

Waiting until her slender form had disappeared down the hall, Cezar turned to stab his leader with an annoyed glare. “You haven’t answered my question.”

Styx pointed toward a map that had been pinned to the wall. “He possesses the most detailed maps of Illinois. Viper asked if we could borrow them.”

“And he left his lair to bring them?” His attention returned to the large, feral vampire who was speaking softly with Viper. “Amazing.”

“Not really.” Styx’s smile was cold. “I can be quite persuasive when I issue an invitation.”

Persuasive? More like lethal.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” he growled, still not pleased at having the vampire near Anna.

Styx shrugged. “He is…unstable and fiercely independent, but he knows better than to stir my anger.”

Cezar smiled wryly. “Don’t we all?”

Amusement briefly flickered through the dark golden eyes before the hard, aloof expression returned.

“How is Anna?”

“Scared.”

“I meant, how did she receive the information that you mated her while she was unconscious?”

Cezar shoved a hand through his hair, which he’d left loose after his shower. Anna seemed to like running her fingers through it, and he liked letting her.

“Actually she received it better than I could ever have hoped,” he muttered, still in awe at the memory of her ready acceptance of his bonding. He had spent hours preparing himself for her fury, even hatred. What he hadn’t prepared himself for was her desire to complete the ceremony. Dios. He’d rather have taken a stroll through the sun than to deny her request. “Better than she should have.”

Styx lifted his brows, easily sensing Cezar’s raw flare of pain. “Tell me what troubles you.”

“She desires to complete the ceremony,” he admitted.

The dark eyes narrowed. “Should I offer my congratulations?”

Cezar briefly closed his eyes as his heart clenched with longing. “You were right before. We both know that Anna’s future belongs to the Oracles.”

“Perhaps…”

“No, Styx.” Cezar gave a sharp shake of his head. “I will not allow myself to hope for the impossible.”

Styx gave a small nod of understanding, knowing as well as Cezar that not even the most powerful vampire could fight the will of the Oracles.

Before he could offer his sympathies, Styx was jerking his head toward the door, sensing the approaching vampire servant before the door was pushed open.

Entering the room, DeAngelo bowed low at the sight of his king. “My lord.”

“What is it?”

“An imp is at the door.” The vampire grimaced. “He requested to speak with Conde Cezar.”

Styx gave a hiss of annoyance. “Is it Troy?”

“That is the name he gave.”

“Damn.” Styx struggled against his dislike for the flamboyant imp. “Tell him to join us.”

“He said that he has information that he will…” There was another grimace from DeAngelo. “Sell only to the Conde.”

Styx growled low in his throat. “Troy needs to discover that vampires do not pay for information. I will deal with this.”

“No.” Cezar reached out to grasp Styx’s arm. “If he does have information of Morgana I won’t risk having him frightened away. You remain here and finish completing our plans. I will deal with Prince Troy.”