systems that would have made Sorcha and Nessa wet their panties, Briana paused in the doorway to a dining room.
Beyond that she found an immaculate kitchen, another entertainment room, two bathrooms and a weapons room. Given how easy the weapons were to find for someone who’d been snatched off the street, she wouldn’t be surprised if they were magically safeguarded, or like everything else, an illusion.
That didn’t stop her from strapping two daggers to her calves and tucking a gun at the small of her back. Bullets couldn’t kill an immortal unless they had the kind of firepower behind it to remove a head, but the weapons gave her a small measure of comfort.
If someone could abduct her so effortlessly—and judging by the ten chairs in the dining room she wasn’t alone—then her assailant’s magic wasn’t anything to underestimate.
Heading toward a glass door that appeared to lead outside—
Layers of paint so thick they appeared three dimensional captured a bloody battle in the midst of a storm. At first glance she thought it was the fields of Camlann, a battle her brothers had fought in, Cian right on the front lines. But when she caught a glimpse of females among those perpetually locked in battle or lay wounded or dying on the muddy earth, she realized it was a Campaign.
At one time she’d envied the women in the mortal realm who’d been able to pass themselves off as men to take up arms. As determined as she’d been to join the Guard with Cian, she’d had to settle on using her strengths as a tracker far away from the battlefield, where females supposedly didn’t belong. If there had been even a remote possibility she could have masked her scent from the rest of her race, she would have disguised herself to take up a sword for Arthur.
The women in the painting, however, didn’t fight for the ideology and peace that Arthur had brought to Avalon and Camelot. The women bravely facing down enemies in the painting fought for their lives, pawns in a war fought among the gods.
If there truly was another Campaign brewing, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind Rhiannon would expect Briana’s family to fight for her.
Dismissing thoughts of the goddess and the haunting mural, Briana slipped outside.
Warm sunshine beat down on her the moment she stepped away from the door. She closed her eyes, indulging in the feel of the skin-tingling rays that warmed her skin.
She’d only risked stealing a few precious moments of sun in recent months, not wanting anyone to know she no longer needed to turn to stone at dawn. If woman and cat had chosen anyone but Lucan as her mate, she wouldn’t have hidden the truth from her brothers.
One good thing about her unexpected disappearing act was missing out on Tristan’s reaction to the news. Cian wouldn’t be able to keep the discovery to himself for long. He hadn’t wasted any time telling Tristan and Cale after he’d learned the truth about her controlling her shift to stone. She didn’t expect less now that her brother knew exactly who her mate was.
But once they knew, how long before one of them foolishly said something to Lucan? Or had the damage already been done? By now all three of them could have cornered Lucan not realizing that the news would mean nothing to him. If he’d felt sorry for her in the alley, she didn’t want to think how he’d look at her once he knew the truth.
The sensation of being watched crawled across Briana’s skin.
Senses primed, she ventured a little closer to the wall separating the grounds from the jungle that looked to stretch on for miles. Nothing crouched above, waiting to pounce, but the tease of magic that washed over her was unmistakable.
Vines as thick as her wrist hung from blossom-covered trees that bordered the manicured lawns and courtyard. Branches reached for the top of the wall and the flowers pulsed in shades of pink, red and blue, their leaves stirring in a breeze Briana could only see but not feel.
A security system.
Anyone who thought to leave through the jungle would likely find themselves snared in a net of twisting vines—possibly poisonous ones. Maybe not lethal, but strong enough to severely weaken an immortal.
More movement to her right had her pivoting to identify the potential threat. Across the courtyard a giant fountain poured water into a wading pool. The water spilled from it into a larger one made for swimming. On the other side of the water’s glassy surface, she spotted someone through the trees.
Pulse picking up speed, she skirted the edge of the pool. Keeping the castle masking itself as a mansion—or vice versa—in her peripheral vision, she cleared the trees.
A wave of power crackled on the air, raising the hairs on the back of Briana’s neck.
The woman’s dark hair blew in another empty breeze that didn’t touch the large, black-haired immortal opposite her. Flickers of iridescent color brightened his skin.
Briana had found the dragon she’d scented earlier.
“Scared, pet?” The dragon’s tone was bored and directed at the female opposite him.
The woman—a sorceress judging by the ball of blue fire that appeared in her open palm—cocked her head. “Do you think anyone’s
Something about the way the woman held herself struck Briana as familiar. Emma?
“The fire
“Dragons.” The brunette rolled her eyes. “All fire and brimstone. Have a little imagination once and a while. Might help you shake that predictable reputation you have.”
“Roasting little girls like you is how I earned my reputation.”
The laughter that burst out of the sorceress helped Briana put it together. Not Emma, but her infinitely more powerful twin sister, Elena.
“Really?” Elena stared at something on her hand. “Damn it. I just got this manicure yesterday.” She sighed. “I thought Kellagh the Black earned his reputation from abandoning his men when he realized Arthur might lose the battle of Camlann.”
The dragon betrayed no surprise that Elena had recognized him. Which was more than Briana could say for herself at hearing who the gargoyle was.
Rumors had abounded for centuries that the gargoyle traitor had become one of Morgana’s favorite mercenaries before his dragon half took over, leaving him as one of the Forgotten. Stories were still told to young ones that the bloodthirsty black dragon would snatch children right out of their bed if they didn’t mind their parents.
Kellagh the Black was here? Wherever here was.
“Briana, have you met Camelot’s feared dragon?” Elena sounded like she was talking about a harmless teddy bear.
Surprised that Emma’s twin had recognized her when they’d only met in passing once or twice, Briana only nodded. Elena wasn’t exactly one of her favorite people, seeing as the sorceress had trapped her brother Cian in his stone gargoyle form for over a hundred years. Cian had been willing to forgive her for the sake of his mate, but Briana wasn’t quite as quick to let it go.
Elena turned her back on the dragon, openly dismissing him as a threat. Her eyes narrowed at something over Briana’s shoulder. “Behind you.”
The vague warning came a heartbeat after Briana realized someone was stalking her.
“Briana!”
Lucan collided with a stone wall where the rainy street had been only moments before. Water dripped off him and the sword he’d drawn the second he’d witnessed her thrown backward.
And then she’d vanished before his eyes.
“Briana!” Ignoring the burning at his lower back from being struck by something, he spun around, scanning the unfamiliar room.
Where was he? And where the hell was Briana?
“I must have been a very good girl this year, and it’s not even Christmas yet.”
Lucan turned at the voice, spotted a woman perched on the edge of the bed next to him. He held his sword
