Temptation

Morganna pursed her lips and tapped them with a slender finger. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Yes, that makes perfect sense given the prophecy.”

“Prophecy?” Jon asked. The fairies ignored him.

“Aye, I don’t know why we didn’t think of it right away,” Fiona said, smacking her forehead. “I feel like a right stupid one.”

“Really? Excalibur?” Richie asked. Despite himself, Richie grew excited. This was going to be a hell of an adventure.

“There’s no time to waste,” Morganna said. “If we’re right, Lucie will figure it out soon himself.”

“But Sister,” Fiona said, “he doesn’t have HIM.” She indicated Jon with a nod of her head.

“True,” Morganna conceded, “but really, how hard would it be for him to manipulate this one into doing what he wanted?”

“Hey,” Jon said, indignant. “Nobody makes me do what I don’t want to do.”

Fiona looked at Jon, then at Morganna, and burst out laughing. “You can’t be serious,” Fiona said. “Even with my meager magic, I can control you. Hell, even withOUT magic, I’d wager I could manipulate you. Women have always had that power over men.”

“But you can’t make people do what isn’t in their nature to do, right?”

Morganna shook her head. “No, child, that’s your human hypnotism. What we do is more... basic than that. More primal. You’ve already experienced it. We, the fey that is, can influence your emotions. We can cloud your minds, alter your memories, change your very nature, albeit temporarily. We don’t like to do any of that, but sometimes it’s unavoidable.”

Richie looked at Morganna thoughtfully. “When do you alter memories?”

She looked at Richie, clearly reluctant to answer, but even more reluctant to lie. “When we’re found out, usually,” she said softly.

“Are you going to do that to us when this is all over?”

“Assuming you survive it, yes.”

“The hell you will,” Jon said.

Fiona touched her sister’s sleeve. “Let’s not worry about that now,” she said. “We have plans to make. We have to concentrate on what we know now, not speculate on what may happen. There will be enough time for that once Lucie gets wind of what’s going on.”

Morganna smiled sadly, looking at Richie. He blinked. He could have sworn she was looking at him with tenderness in her eyes. Shaking his head, he looked at Fiona.

“So, Fee,” Richie said, “what exactly do we know, and what do we need to do?”

“We know that you two are the chosen ones, and we are nearly certain we know that Excalibur is meant for one of you. We don’t know which one, and won’t until we get there. We also don’t know what the other is to use if not Excalibur.”

“Wait, ‘there’?” Jon asked. “Where’s ‘there’?”

Fiona looked at Jon, surprised. “Why, England, silly. Where on Earth do you think the root of Arthurian legend lies?”

“England? We need to pack up and fly to England? For how long?”

“As long as it takes,” Morganna answered. “And you don’t have to fly,” she said. “We could help you get to England much faster than your aeroplanes.”

"As long as it takes?" Richie didn't like the sound of that. "We'll need to handle a few personal things first. I need to make some arrangements for Ava."

Jon spun toward his friend. "You make it sound like we're not coming back."

The axe man laughed at the look on Jon's face. "Damn, bro. What the fuck makes you say that? I just have to talk to Heather. I was supposed to have Ava this weekend. Sounds like you’re the one who thinks we’re not coming back."

"Fuck you," Jon growled, then stormed off muttering about the audacity of friends and the arrogance of fairies that would try to manipulate him.

Fiona felt eyes on her and looked up at chocolate brown orbs. "What?"

Richie rolled his eyes at Fiona. "You say you know him.” He got right up in her face and pointed a finger at her. “IF you knew him, you'd follow him and not let him outta your sight. ’Cause the Jonny I know is two seconds away from doing something... anything... to prove he's the one still in control of his life and this situation."

Green eyes flashing, Fiona straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. Stiffly, she answered, "Quite right," and turned on her heel and stomped off in the direction Jon had taken.

Anna's soft laughter had Richie turning in her direction. "You would be wise not to make an enemy of my sister," she warned softly. Her violet eyes were sparkling and shining.

"Enemy?" his voice had deepened, and he felt as if something unseen was pulling him toward her.

“Aye. Her powers may not be as strong as mine, but I'd wager she could still handle you.”

Richie drew closer to Morganna, remembering the erotic dream he’d had about her that morning. The dream shifted and twisted in his head, and he got a glimpse of Morganna, dressed much as she was today, but looking younger. Her hair was braided and bound, and a delicate blush tinged her cheeks. He saw hands, his hands, reaching to remove the pins from her hair. When he dropped the pins on the dressing table, he caught a glimpse of his visage in the looking glass – or what should have been his visage. The dark-eyed, dark-haired man staring back at him was a stranger yet oddly familiar. The shape of the eyes; the wide smile... His eyes quickly took in the tunic and the scarred scabbard threaded through a belt. What the hell?

The vision fled as quickly as started, and he blinked rapidly to try to clear it from his head. He took another step toward Morganna, his hand lightly trailing over her hair. She tensed but did not step away, and Richie’s fingers slid down her arm. “And what about you?” He asked, his voice husky.

Morganna watched as his eyes darkened, and for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. She deftly stepped away from Richie’s touch. His touch reminded her of just how long it had been since she had been touched, loved by a man. Her romantic side longed to lean into him, to feel his arms close around her and hold her tight. To taste him and be tasted. The practical side reminded her that he did not need any distractions, and neither did she.

“I believe it goes without saying, child,” she said softly, “that I can handle you just fine.” She raised a hand to the earring he had given her, and as she touched it, Richie felt a feathery touch on his lips and the press of a woman’s form against his body. His thoughts clouded again, and he saw that not-quite-stranger holding Morganna in his arms, kissing her thoroughly. When Morganna dropped her hand, Richie’s thoughts cleared.

“Sweet hell, Anna,” he said softly, searching her eyes. “What are you doing to me?” When he took a step toward her, she vanished.


After checking several rooms without having any luck finding Jon, Fiona stopped in the middle of the hallway on the second floor. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pulled up an image of Jon in her head. Letting her inner homing sense find his essence, she followed it down the back stairs and out the back door.

He stood just outside the ring of flowers, looking for all the world like he wanted to step inside but afraid of what would happen if he did. She smiled at his back. Maybe, she should explain that his powers couldn't make the ring work, couldn't take him any where without her or Morganna's powers.

Jon's back stiffened, and she knew that he had sensed her presence. "It won't work for you. Won't zap you away to some place beyond your ken," she said softly, her voice gentle.

Slowly, he turned to face her. "What makes you think I want it to?"

"Just a guess." She shrugged delicately. "I know how hard this is for you. You're such a control freak, this has all got to be almost more than you can handle having someone else dictate your actions."

Jon's eyes narrowed on her standing there, looking all sympathetic and understanding, and he took a step toward her. "You do realize that I'm not completely ignorant in this right? I may not be a practicing member of any organized religion, but I do know about free will."

She frowned at him and cocked her head, raising one eyebrow. "Free will?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about." He took another step toward her. "I'm sure you look at it as an annoying little concept, but right now, it's looking like my salvation."

"Are ya sayin' what I think yuir sayin'?" she asked, her voice deceptively soft. She'd have gotten away with it, if the Irish wasn't back in her voice.

"Don't play games with me, little fairy," he warned, huskily. Unsure why, she let him get away with the hated name. Maybe because he made it sound like an endearment. Briefly, she wondered who was manipulating whom. "You know as well as I do, that I can refuse to go along with your little plan and walk away now, unscathed."

"No, ya canna," she argued, shaking her head. "The man I ken couldna walk away. Couldna leave his wee ones to die afore their time because of Lucie bringin' 'bout tha End of Days, not when he coulda stopped it. No. The man I ken would do everthin' in his power to make sure his wee ones could live in a world as safe as he could make it."

Jon smiled. She hadn't raised her voice, but she couldn't hide her agitation. The Irish gave her away every time. He took another step toward her and reached out with his right hand. He wanted to know if her cheek was as soft as it looked.

His thumb had barely touched the curve of her cheek on a downward path toward her jaw, when she gasped and took a step back. He followed her, not willing to stop what he'd started. With one fluid move, he brushed her hair back over her shoulder with one hand, while he pulled her closer toward him with the other hand on her waist.

"Wha' do ya think yuir doin', mon?" she demanded huskily, her voice sounding like velvet dragged over stone.

"You mean you don't know?" he asked with a grin, as his lips moved closer toward hers. "Then I must not be doing something right."

Fiona shivered. Not doing something right? If this was wrong, she was more than a little afraid of the correct procedure. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest, and she was finding it very hard to catch her breath. Then when his lips met hers, she didn't care if she ever took another breath again. Without even trying, he had set her insides on fire. Fiona had closed her eyes at that first touch of lips, but now they opened wide in surprise when his tongue asked for admittance. With both hands on his chest, she pushed with all her might. Jon stumbled back in surprise and swore softly when she disappeared right before his eyes.

His deep chuckle reached her as she sat in miniature form on a tree branch high above his head. "Next time, little fairy," he promised as he started back toward the house. Deep masculine laughter floated back to her on the wind.

On his way back to the house, Jon pulled his cell out of his pocket and pressed the speed dial for Cheryl. His assistant answered on the first ring.

"Cheryl, I need you to clear my schedule for the next three days. I'll be unreachable too. Can you handle that?"

"Sure, Jon. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. If it turns out I need more time, I'll call you."

When Jon hung up the phone, he had no doubts that Cheryl would have no problems handling things while he was out of pocket. Jon wasn't surprised to find Richie on the phone when he found him in the den.

"No, brother. Everything's cool. Jon and I just have an unscheduled trip to make. Something just came up." Richie paused, while the person on the other end of the phone asked him something. "Yeah, we'll call you when we're back in the States. We'll get together then."

Richie said his goodbyes and hung up the phone. "Bet ya forgot about our lunch with Alec."

Jon frowned. "Why would you think I forgot? I was going to call him."

Richie grinned knowingly. "No you weren't. You were going to let Cheryl call him."

"Fuck off, Rich." There was laughter in the statement.


Alec hung up the phone. That was curious, he thought. The guys, Richie especially, wouldn’t normally cancel on a lunch with a friend unless something big was going on. Richie mentioned something about leaving the country, but didn’t offer any details. The trip seemed sort of sudden, and Richie’s reluctance to share details was so unlike him. Usually you couldn’t get him to shut up.

Alec wondered just what in the hell was going on.