Brooks

One touch changed everything. In the blink of an eye I became a different person. Two lives in one mind. I was Arthur Pendragon. I lived and loved, and then I lost it all.

Excalibur lies discarded on the ground, my hands still shaking from the overwhelming rush of memories continually crashing into me like waves in a vast, wild ocean. Lancelot is gone and I have no idea how we can move forward without him. My Guinevere kneels beside me, her gentle hands rubbing my back as she holds me.

“Gwen,” I begin, but have to stop because of the ache in my heart at the memory of how our life together ended…of what I did to her.

“Arthur, don’t.”

I shake my head and pull back from her. That name feels strange. It’s the ghost of a man I was, but Brooks is still here. Brooks is still who I am. My angelic grace sings in my veins, a reminder that in this life I have a calling. I am Nephilim. Half angel, half human, and determined to end the apocalypse. “Call me by my name in this life. Call me Brooks. Arthur was a coward who did you wrong. If I’d been any kind of husband to you, I’d never have let my counsel send you to the pyre.” Even now the vision of her being led to her death makes nausea curl in my gut.

“You had no choice.” Her voice is tight, and I know she’s remembering the flames.

Again I shake my head. “I sent word to Lancelot. I thought he’d come for you. I had no doubt he’d rescue you and then I’d come find both of you.”

Tears swim in her eyes. “But he had already been imprisoned in purgatory. You couldn’t have known. From the beginning we were set up to fail. My curse ensured that.”

Anger blooms in my chest. “I still sent you to death. By the time I realized he wasn’t coming—” I have to swallow past the lump in my throat before I can finish. “I was too late.”

I should’ve done so many things differently and our current situation proves I’m still making mistakes. I failed my wife. I failed my best friend, the man I loved as I loved Gwen—the man I could never have.

It’s strange to have two lives playing in my mind. My past was filled with unrequited desire for Lancelot and a love for Gwen that was born of respect and friendship more than sexual need. But now? Now my want is for Gwen in a much more carnal nature. Until I touched that damn sword she was the only one I wanted, but my desires are at war with one another and I don’t know how to handle them. My past self loves them both, my present self craves them both. Either way, I need them…both.

“We have to find Lance,” I say, getting to my feet and holding out a hand for hers.

She turns sad eyes on me but takes my offered help as she rises. “He’s gone. The sword abandoned him…he lost his fight with the demon blood.”

I bend down and take up Excalibur once more, the weight of the blade in my palm a calming thing, as though I’ve been missing it all this time. “Something isn’t right about this. He returned your magic. If he wasn’t worthy, why would he do that?”

“I…I don’t know. But I can feel it, Brooks. Lance is gone. He’s as good as dead.” The pain in her voice makes me wish I could fix this for her. “I’m not sure where we go from here.”

“Gwen, look at me.” She locks gazes with me and I’m hit with a wave of emotion so strong my knees nearly buckle. Our bond is more than an arranged marriage hundreds of years ago. My angelic nature pulses with the power of our connection. Gwen is my soul mate. Just as my father fell from Heaven for my mother, I would do the same for Guinevere. After taking a steadying breath, I push back the instinct to tell her what just happened and take her chin between my thumb and forefinger, a gesture I’ve never used before with her. “Wherever we go, we go together. You are mine. I won’t put you at risk.”

She nods and her brow furrows. “What is it I’m seeing in your eyes? There’s so much passion. Arthur never looked at me that way.”

“I may have been Arthur, but I’m still Brooks. I still want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

Her breath hitches but she doesn’t respond, instead she links our hands. “We need to talk to my sisters.”

I clear my throat and send a pulse of my grace through my palm and into her. When she tenses and looks into my eyes with a question hovering unasked between us, I say, “I can make this easier on you. Your powers only just returned.”

She closes her eyes and the world around us swirls and tilts. I shut my own eyes and my grip on Excalibur doesn’t loosen. Gwen is taking us somewhere, and I have to trust in her. As we’re transported through space and time, I’m hit with a vision of the enchanted ruby belt that matches the sword. It’s not complete. Excalibur won’t serve its purpose if it isn’t whole. We’ll fail our mission if we can’t find the scabbard.

When I open my eyes I’m greeted with rolling green hills, gray cold skies, and the stern faces of four people. One of whom is certainly a fallen angel.

“You said he was hot,” the small blonde says, her Irish accent strong. “You definitely didn’t lie.”

The man behind her grumbles and pulls her close, his big body making her look even more petite. His palm rests on her pregnant belly and I see the flash of a gold wedding band on his finger. “I’ll have you know I’m right here, Beauty.”

The blonde smiles. “I’m aware, Beast.”

The other woman is tall and statuesque, her frame lean and regal. “Made your choice, I see? No threesome in your future?”

Gwen stiffens beside me. “Helena,” she hisses. “Now is not the time.”

“Where’s your knight?”

The question hangs between us until Gwen unlinks our hands and steps forward. “Gone. He’s…I don’t know how to find him.”

“You tried the locator spell?” Helena asks, pulling Gwen away from me and into her arms.

“We found the sword. Brooks…he’s Arthur.”

Helena’s dark gaze finds me and I feel her power hovering on the edge of threatening. “You said he killed you. He’s responsible for…burning you.” She whispers the last and I fight the urge to protest.

Gwen looks back at me and all I see is hope in her eyes. Then she turns her attention to her sisters. “The three of us know enough about past lives to understand we can’t change what’s happened, only move forward and do better.”

Helena takes a long breath, but nods. “I suppose. And Excalibur? Does he hold that power?”

“I do,” I say, not wanting Gwen to speak for me. “It was locked in the roots of a hawthorn tree. When I touched the hilt I remembered…everything.”

She furrows her brow and steps toward me, but the fallen angel at her side sucks in a sharp breath and steps in front of her. “None of that, love. I’ll be the one examining this…Nephilim.”

“I told you what he was, Tamiel,” Gwen argues, but the fallen steps forward and takes me by the arm.

“Who sired you?” Tamiel closes his eyes and I feel the force of his grace pushing against me. “Why can’t I sense him?”

I pull my arm out of his grip and square my shoulders. I’m a tall man and my presence intimidates most, but not this bloke. “You’d do well to keep your hands off me, mate.”

“Mate?” The angel laughs and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “I’m not your friend. You might be the child of one of my brothers, but that doesn’t mean you’re on our side. All I know is Gwen shows up here with you instead of Lance, heartbreak written all over her face, and Gabriel has said absolutely nothing about you being part of this.” He stands between me and the witches, the large man who’d been protecting the blonde taking up a place beside him. Upon closer inspection, I can tell he’s a shifter.

“What do you want to do here, Tamiel?” the shifter asks, his voice a low rumble colored by a thick Scots accent. Now that he’s nearer I feel the wolf inside him close to the surface. No wonder the little blonde called him Beast.

“I’m not sure. Helena, take Gwen inside. We need to have a chat with my…nephew.”

The last thing I want is to let her out of my sight. I just got her. “You’re not taking her anywhere.”

Tamiel’s wings extend and his eyes glow with the power his angelic grace affords him. “Do not challenge me, Nephilim.”

I’m not backing down. “Gwen and I are in this together. The two of us stay together.” My hand rests on the hilt of Excalibur and my own grace burns as it gathers power and sends it all to the blade.

“Bloody hell,” the shifter murmurs. “The sword is fucking glowing.”

I raise the sword and ready to defend myself. “Don’t make me use this.”

The fallen angel’s hands glow bright with power. “I’ve been fighting longer than both your lives combined. You won’t win. Not even with Excalibur.”

“That’s enough!” Gwen appears between us, her hands held out, sparks of blue magic flying from her fingers. “The two of you need to stop this. Tamiel, Brooks is meant to be part of this. I feel it in my bones.”

“But…Izzy was fooled once before,” the shifter says. “Don’t you recall what happened with Tristan?”

“I haven’t forgotten that, Grant, but I can assure you, I’m under no love spell.” Her voice is so sure and strong, just like the queen she once was.

“And how can you be certain?”

She lowers her hands and the blue sparks fade to nothing. “Because I’m not in love with him.”

Gwen

The look on Brooks’ face twists my heart, but I’m not about to let him think this is love between us. I’ve barely lost Lance and there’s far too much in my path to be focused on something as all consuming as love. Brooks is…mine. I feel it, a soul-deep connection, but I am in love with Lancelot. I always have been, and I can’t love two men, even if one of them is gone.

“It doesn’t change the fact that we’re meant to be together, Gwen.” He threads our fingers and presses a kiss between my knuckles. “But this time will be different.”

“I’m…I can’t talk about this now.” My throat is tight and pain burrows into my heart like a cold shard of ice. “Tamiel, Grant, I promise you Brooks is on our side. Don’t hurt him.”

The two of them back down, but I know if Brooks puts one toe out of line, they’ll do whatever is necessary to keep the coven safe. I pull my hand out of Brooks’ grasp and rush inside the small house. Helena and Izzy are both right behind me, the latter moving slowly because of her growing baby bump.

“Well, that was…dramatic,” Izzy says. “Are you sure he’s all right? He seemed a little intense.”

“He seemed like Tamiel when he was claiming me as his soul mate,” Helena adds.

Izzy nods. “And like Grant when we first met.” Then she sighs and gets a dreamy look in her eye. “What a night.”

“Stop it, you two. Brooks and I have a lot of history to work through. We were married in another life after all.”

“And you cheated on him,” Helena says.

I clench my teeth.

“And then he killed you,” Izzy interjects.

“Yes, all those things.”

“You’re right, that’s some serious baggage.” Helena waves a hand and three mugs appear on the small table in the kitchen. She sighs and smiles. “God, it’s good to have my magic again.”

“You want me to read the leaves?” I ask, staring at the table and conjuring my favorite teapot.

“No. I want to have some peppermint tea because morning sickness lasts all bloody day in my case.”

I grin and look down at her, the pregnancy not showing itself yet. “I suppose that’s to be expected. How’s Tamiel handling this?”

She smiles. “He’s very proud of himself. I’m still getting used to it all.”

I wonder if I’ll ever have a child. I’ve never seen myself with a baby, never pregnant, never anything beyond married to Brooks. “And you, Izzy? How are you?”

“Oh, I’m right as bloody rain. Grant won’t let me lift a finger for fear of something happening to his little wolf.”

My heart swells with happiness for my sisters. Both have found their places, their loves.

“And what about you?” Izzy asks.

“Me?” I feign innocence. From the window I can see Brooks, Grant, and Tamiel have taken less defensive postures as they work through what is undoubtedly Brooks’ account of what happened.

“Don’t give me that,” Izzy says, rolling her eyes as Helena pours tea. The sharp bite of peppermint fills the air.

“It’s complicated.”

“Try us.”

“My visions tell me Brooks is the one I end up with.”

“And your heart?”

“I don’t know.” I watch him run a hand through his hair, the hint of beard on his jaw giving him a rugged appearance rather than his usual polished presentation.

“Do you want him?” Helena asks.

I do. I feel the same desperate attraction to him as I do for Lance if I’m being honest. It grew slowly over the time we’ve been together, but now I can’t deny how I feel. “It’s all very confusing. But I can’t be his, not fully. Not with how I feel about Lance.”

“But he’s a demon. He’s gone.”

Tears fill my eyes. I haven’t allowed myself to say those words. He can’t be gone. “I’m not sure.”

Helena runs a hand over my hair, an uncharacteristically warm gesture for my stoic sister. “Darling, you said he was turning. You said there was no stopping it.”

“But…but maybe he found a way.” I know even as I say the words I’m wrong. He may not be dead, but he’s not coming back, at least, not as the Lancelot I know.

My sisters look at me with such pity, it makes me want to hide from their gazes. Then Izzy takes my hand. “I can see it in your eyes. You know the truth.”

I blink back tears, but one escapes anyway. “He won’t be the same. I can’t fix him.”

“You need to prepare yourself to fight him. He’s not on our side anymore.”

My chest aches. He fought the demon blood until he couldn’t any longer. “He gave us back our magic.”

“That he did. Lancelot, the knight went down with honor and in service to his queen.”

“How do I go on without him?” My voice breaks on the last.

“One day at a time,” Izzy says. “But we’ll be here with you.”

I shake my head. “I need to know. I need to see for myself. If he’s truly a demon, we should be able to summon him.”

The two of them look from me to each other, worry on their faces. Then Helena speaks. “That would require us to willingly summon a demon.”

I shrug. “We’ve done worse.”

“True, but what if knowing doesn’t give you what you need? Seeing him as a demon might be more painful.”

She’s right. Seeing the man I gave my heart to but not being able to have him will haunt me forever, but so will not knowing. “I have to do this.”

Izzy sighs and pushes back from her chair. “I’ll get the salt.”

“No, we’ll summon him, but not until you’ve had a night’s rest and some time to think on it.” Helena’s statement is final. She’s not going to budge on this.

I nod and take a long breath as the door opens and the three men walk inside. Grant crosses his arms over his broad chest, tattoos covering both forearms. “You’ve got more ink,” I say.

He grins. “Aye, those are the markings of the pack Alpha.”

“Speaking of Alpha males. We’re going to attempt to summon Lancelot tomorrow night,” Izzy says. “And I won’t have you showing your caveman attitude about it, Beast.”

He frowns, but doesn’t protest. Brooks’ gaze shoots to mine, a question on his lips.

“I need to see if he’s truly lost,” I admit.

“I understand,” he says. “I need to know as well.” There’s such pain in his voice.

“Oh, this just gets better and better,” Helena mutters. “I always wondered about Arthur and Lancelot.” I kick her under the table and she winces. “Ouch.”

Brooks glances away and I know she’s hit a nerve. Standing, I walk to him, placing my palm on his warm shoulder. Before I can speak I’m hit with a vision, he’s wearing the scabbard, holding Excalibur, closing the first seal. “It’s you,” I whisper through my throbbing headache.

“What?” He turns toward me, catching me as I sway dangerously.

“We have to get the scabbard so you can stop the end of the world.”