Hot Blooded

being so spectacularly flipped off, he spun on
his heel and strode toward the door. On his way out, he passed Reece Champion
and Foster, standing before the thick, sentient tome that was Merlin's Grimoire.
An image of a man and woman floated over its pages, neither of them looking
older than seventeen.
    "
That's
Merlin and Nimue?" Foster demanded, staring at the
three-dimensional image in shock. "And they were aliens from another planet?"
    "From another world in the Mageverse, yes," the book said. "Oh, Lancelot—have
you seduced Grace Morgan yet?"
    He snarled at it and kept going.
    "Hey, isn't he the one who screwed Arthur's wife?" he heard Foster whisper
just before he slammed the door.
    Â 
    HE had never cared for Morgana's new chateau. She'd built it from Mageverse
energies four hundred years before, and he'd never gotten used to it. Her
previous home had been constructed in the style of a Roman villa, its coolly
elegant mosaics and frescos a welcome reminder of a time when they'd all been
merely human. This one was filled with art she'd commissioned during the Italian
Renaissance, handwoven rugs and tapestries, and fussy French antiques. Walking
through its cavernous rooms, Lance didn't see a single chair that looked as if
it could support his weight.
    Not that he really gave a damn about the decor, given that every breath he
took carried the Maja's intoxicating scent. Fighting the lust that rose with
each inhalation, Lance silently cursed his unruly cock. Only a fool went to a
meeting with Morgana Le Fay with an erection. Like Gwen, she wouldn't hesitate
to lead him around by it. And he'd learned his lesson on that score.
    He wasn't surprised when her most recent scent trail led down a marble inlaid
corridor to her bedroom. She was probably sprawled across the velvet canopied
bed wearing only her endless hair and a taunting smile. Morgana liked instant
results, and she tended to punish and tease when she didn't get them.
    Surprisingly, this time the bedroom was empty. Looking out through the French
doors, Lance saw her standing on the balcony where the true face of Avalon
sprawled on glittering display. As far as the eye could see, Italian villas
stood next to French chateaus or Spanish castles, all constructed of pure alien
energies that shimmered in the light of the Mageverse moon. Magekind from all
over the planet lived here, all of them united in one goal: to save mankind from
itself. As elected Liege of the Majae's Council, Morgana was one of the most
powerful of them all. And one of the most capricious.
    Taking a deep breath, Lance stepped out to join her. As he'd expected, she
was dressed to tease in a long silk nightgown that lay like mist over her
impressive curves, its neckline a low-cut frame for her cleavage and long swan's
throat. She smelled of sex and blood and that undefinable something that was
uniquely Maja. The dark hunger that had been nagging Lance intensified into a
feral kind of lust, lengthening his cock and fangs until they ached. Even as his
body leaped, it occurred to him that something in his spirit remained curiously
uninvolved.
    The same something that had responded to Grace with such famished eagerness.
    Before Lance could explore that thought, Morgana turned and gave him her best
look-but-don't-touch smile, posing against the balcony railing in a way
calculated to make her breasts strain to escape that tight bodice. "Why aren't
you off seducing my granddaughter?"
    "I had to take care of mine," he said, moving to lean against the rail
himself in a position he knew emphasized the width of his shoulders. The witch
was not the only one who could play the game. "You do realize Grace wants
nothing at all to do with the Gift?"
    "If she had, I could have sent any Magus with a cock." Morgana being Morgana,
her lips lingered on that last word. Her lids lowered over green eyes that
seemed to glow like a cat's in the moonlight. "Don't tell me she refused the
High Court's prize stallion?"
    "I'm also the High Court's prize killer, which might explain her reluctance.
Especially since she's seen me in action." He hated to expose the fear that had
been nagging at him to a woman who would happily turn it against him, but
Morgana was the only one who could give him the answers he needed. "Is Grace
afraid of me?"
    The witch's cupid's-bow mouth curved in that delighted smile that meant she'd
just found a weakness. "You mean for snapping poor, mad