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  Galahad winced. “—He’s going to use it to create more vampires.”

  She nodded. “His own private army.”

  “Jesu, that’s all we need.” He sighed. “Looks like we’re going on a cup hunt.”

  IT had always annoyed Galahad that Magekind vampires couldn’t work spells beyond healing their own wounds or turning into wolves. If you needed anything magical done, you had to go to a witch, particularly for complex spells. However, for relatively simple ones—protection or communication, for example—you could get her to make you an enchanted object, like armor, swords or gems. You could then use that object to work that specific spell.

  Which was why Galahad was forced to put his helm on to contact Morgana Le Fay. When he closed his visor and called her name, her image instantly appeared in his mind.

  Normally, Morgana favored slinky lingerie or designer suits, but this time she was clad in a glittering suit of plate mail, heavily engraved with runes and set with enchanted gems. A chain mail coif framed her long-boned, elegant face. Even in her current grim mood, she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. “Your timing leaves much to be desired, Galahad,” she growled. “We found that nest in Peru, and I’m getting ready to lead an attack. I don’t have time to chat.”

  “Make time,” he snapped, and quickly filled her in.

  When he finished, she cursed in a fluid, profane blend of a dozen dead languages. “Enchanted cups. No wonder there seem to be so many more of these Goddess-cursed vampires.”

  “We’ve got to get that cup, Morgana.”

  “Obviously. I’ll want a look at it, if I’m supposed to create a counter-spell.”

  “Then Caroline and I are going to need reinforcements. She estimates there were a good twenty vamps in that nest she saw.”

  “Then you’ll just have to figure something out, because I can’t spare anyone.” When he started to protest, Morgana held up a ringed hand. “Galahad, we’re about to fight a force of two thousand with one barely half that size. Arthur has his hands full with odds just as bad in Turkey, and Lancelot and Grace are leading a force against a heavily fortified nest in Montana. Then we’ve got another hundred agents going after individual killers, with Merlin knows how many innocents at risk.” She broke off. “Speaking of killers, I gather you tracked your assignment down.”

  “Took him out just after sunset.” He grimaced, remembering the carnage he’d seen. “Son of a bitch was lucky I hadn’t found the bodies before I killed him, or I’d have gotten artistic.”

  She winced. “How bad was it?”

  “Bad as it gets. I counted twenty kids, all under eleven. Did save three of ’em he had in a cage, though. They’re going to need a Maja to do psychic repairs, or they’ll be screwed up for the rest of their lives.”

  Actually, he wouldn’t mind being put under a spell or two himself. Otherwise he’d be seeing that pit full of little corpses in his nightmares for the next couple of centuries. At least until he saw something worse.

  Morgana sighed. “Let me get through this fight and I’ll attend to it. What did you do with the survivors?”

  “Called the police after I killed the bastard. They’ll see the boys get home.”

  She stiffened. “You didn’t let the mortals find his body?”

  “I’m not an idiot, Morgana. Nobody’s going to find him. Ever.”

  “Good.” The witch studied his face, her own softening fractionally. “Before you go after that cup, get something to drink. And I’m not talking about that mortal poison you love. You look drained.”

  Galahad gave her a taunting smile. “So gate on over. You know I don’t drink that from a bottle.”

  Morgana lifted an elegantly aloof brow. “I seem to have a prior engagement. Why don’t you nibble on your new friend instead? She probably needs it as much as you do. By the way, be careful with her. She hasn’t had combat training.”

  He straightened. “Any? Merlin’s Cup, Morgana!”

  “Why do you think she’s not here fighting? We’re so short-handed, I had to pull her trainer in. And I could hardly throw Caroline into a battle like this when she’s only had about a week’s instruction.”

  “Let me get this straight. You left a brand-new Maja alone in Avalon with nobody to instruct her in the use of her powers? You’re lucky she hasn’t turned the city into a crater.”

  Morgana snorted. “That kind of spell would require more knowledge and power than she has.”

  “And you want me to take her into combat?”

  “Not particularly, but we don’t seem to have a choice.”

  “Morgana…”

  “What do you want me to do about it, Galahad?” she snapped. “Yes, I’m aware the situation is far from ideal, but you’re just going to have to make the best of it. Keep a close eye on the girl, kill as many vampires as you can, and don’t let her blow up anything important.”

  He was about to tell her just how asinine that order was when something boomed, almost knocking her off her feet. Morgana ducked with a vile Latin curse. “Take care of it, Galahad. I’ve got vampires to kill.”

  The image vanished.

  Galahad glowered into his darkened visor. Perfect. Just perfect. Thrown to the wolves with no backup except a grass-green Maja who’d probably blast him by mistake. He jerked off his helm and cursed.

  “I gather they’re not sending reinforcements,” Caroline said.

  Galahad turned to see her sprawled in a chair, long, silken legs crossed at the ankle. The view was almost enough to take him mind off their current situation. “They don’t have any to send. We’re stretched too thin, and Geirolf’s vampires seem to be creating new recruits. If we don’t get a handle on this, we’re screwed.”

  “I was afraid of that. In my vision, I didn’t see anybody else on our side.” She flipped her long, silken hair off one shoulder. It reached to the center of her back, as mink brown as those big dark eyes of hers. They dominated her oval face, though that exotic full-lipped mouth did a good job of balancing them out. Add a round chin and high cheekbones, and you had a girl-next-door prettiness Galahad found more than a little intriguing.

  Caroline’s body was just as mouth-watering, with a lean, elegantly muscled build that suggested she did a lot more than grade papers. Her cropped shirt clung to perfect breasts the size of brandy snifters, while those spray-paint shorts revealed long, sleek legs.

  Except…Galahad looked closer and frowned. There was a hectic flush across her high cheekbones, one he knew a little too well. “How long has it been since you were milked?”

  She lifted a brow. “Is that a reference to breast size? Because if it is…”

  “No, when was the last time anybody fed from you?” He hated that term. The Majae considered milk demeaning, but at least it didn’t make them sound like Happy Meals.

  “That would have been Dominic. I didn’t much notice, since I was busy getting barbecued at the time.” She rolled her eyes. “‘Merlin’s Gift,’ my ass. Hell of a way to ruin a good climax.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  She shrugged. “A month or so.”

  “And you haven’t fed anybody in all that time? Didn’t they warn you that you have to donate every two weeks?”

  “Or what, the Avalon Red Cross sends somebody named Guido to collect?”

  “No, you pop a blood vessel and drop dead if there’s nobody around to fix you.” He watched her eyes widen and swore. “They didn’t tell you. Somebody needs to be spanked.”

  “Dominic said I’m immortal!”

  “You are. But along with giving you magical powers, Merlin’s Gift allows you to feed vampires much more often than mortals can. Which means if you don’t donate, your blood pressure spikes.”

  Worry drew down her dark, silky brows. “Couldn’t I fix it with a spell?”

  “’Fraid not. The Gift doesn’t allow that. Merlin intended Majae to feed Magi, and he made damn sure they do it.” He stubbed out his cigar in a crystal ash
tray on the bar, then turned to her. “Come here, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes widened in an expression of alarm he would have found amusing if he hadn’t been so damn hungry for her. “What? Why?”

  “I’m a vampire, Caroline. Why do you think?”

  3

  GALAHAD’S blue eyes simmered with a blend of erotic heat and alien hunger Caroline found both intimidating and perversely sexy. She backed up a pace. “Hey, I thought you didn’t play those kinds of games.”

  “I don’t.” He followed, his gaze so seductive, she could feel her resistance melting. “I’m not offering you a sham romance, Caroline. This is about simple mutual need.” As he spoke, she saw the flash of fangs.

  God, she was tempted. What would it be like to feel those arms around her, that mouth on her skin? Would he be sweet and tender or rough and dominant?

  Since they both knew what to expect, where was the harm?

  But…“Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to play with all your jutting bits, but the bad guys are hungry, too. And they do hurt people. I don’t think we have time for you to take a lunch break.”

  Irritation flashed through his simmering sensuality. “Do you have time to drop dead?”

  Caroline blinked. “Not really, no.”

  “And I haven’t fed in two days. Which is not the way I like to go into a battle to the death, particularly when I’m outnumbered. Just how long do we have before the bad guys start serving cocktails out of Geirolf’s Grail?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not long.”

  His gaze locked on her mouth. “So we don’t have sex.”

  Caroline licked her lips, trying to ignore the whimper of disappointment in the back of her mind. “No?”

  “No. I’ll just have to restrict myself to that pretty throat.” He stepped closer, lids lowering over those blue, blue eyes as he lowered his head. “At least for right now.”

  She tensed, wondering if he was just going to grab her and snack, but Galahad was a lot more subtle than she’d given him credit for. He didn’t take her in his arms. Only their mouths touched, his lips brushing over hers, damp, warm, maddening satin. Knowing she shouldn’t, Caroline opened for him.

  Mutual need. Yeah, she could do mutual need. That was safe.

  Galahad caught her lower lip gently between his teeth and sipped at it. He was really good at that. With a groan, she slid her arms around his neck and buried one hand in the coarse black silk of his hair. The hard, cool contours of his armor pressing against her body made her wonder what he felt like underneath it. “You know,” she said against his mouth, “this is kind of kinky.”

  “Oh, I haven’t even gotten started.” Galahad’s tongue stroked boldly between her lips. He tasted of enchanted smoke and whiskey, a thoroughly masculine combination that tempted her into deepening the kiss. Instead, he drew back to lick and nip at her mouth.

  She leaned into him blindly, craving the contact of his body, but all her hands touched was the cool, etched steel of his armor. Caroline moaned in disappointment and seriously considered zapping him naked just so she could rub up against him.

  It had taken Dominic an hour of serious foreplay to make her burn like this.

  Galahad tore his mouth free of hers and lifted his head, his blue eyes feral. “You sure we don’t have time for more?”

  Caroline stared blindly up at his extravagantly handsome face as she clung to his breastplate. “Oh, we’ve got plenty of time.”

  Fangs flashed in his smile. “Yeah?”

  “What, you expect me to say I’d rather go fight vampires than have jungle sex with you? What are you, nuts?”

  “Guess that answers that question.” He stepped back and took her shoulders in his hands. Spinning her around, he pulled her back against his tall, armored body.

  She stiffened. “What…?”

  “I’m losing it.” Galahad’s breath puffed warm against her ear. “If we stay face-to-face, I’m not sure I can resist the temptation.” He pressed a burning, open-mouthed kiss to the leaping pulse in her throat.

  Caroline caught her breath. “Is this going to hurt?”

  He licked the straining cord in the side of her neck. “Did it hurt the last time?”

  Nerves made her joke. “I’m not sure. About the time he bit me, I got lit up like a mosquito in a bug zapper by Merlin’s Ugly Practical Joke.”

  Galahad chuckled, the sound wickedly suggestive. “Ah—a virgin.” Tauntingly, he raked the very tips of his fangs over her pulse.

  She shivered in an erotic blend of arousal and fear. “Galahad…”

  “It won’t hurt,” he interrupted, his hands suddenly sliding up under her T-shirt to claim her breasts. “Well…maybe it will, but you’ll be too hot to care.”

  His hands felt very warm as they squeezed her through the thin lace cups of her bra. Skillfully, he hooked his index fingers into the fabric and tugged just enough to pop her nipples free.

  Caroline looked down to watch as Galahad’s clever hands found the tight little peaks. Plucked, rolled, stroked. She squirmed, unconsciously rubbing her backside over his armored groin. The steel codpiece jutted against her ass, taunting her with the question of what his cock looked like.

  “Sensitive little nipples you’ve got there,” Galahad whispered in her ear. “Bet they’d be fun to suck.” He rolled the hard nubs. “Mmm. Are they, Caroline?”

  “You’re asking me?” Panting, she threw back her head and let it rest on his hard, armored shoulder. She was starkly aware of his height. You’d think he’d be short, given the times he’d come from, but he was a full head taller than she was. An image flashed through her mind—Galahad naked, all sculpted swordsman brawn. “Oh, God!”

  He inhaled sharply. “Ahhhh. Getting nicely wet now. I can smell it.” Releasing one of her breasts, he reached down her torso, found the button of her shorts. Flicked it open. The zipper hissed.

  She tensed at the erotic anticipation curling through her in shivering waves.

  Galahad worked a hand down into her open fly and slipped into her delicate silk panties. As he found her sex, Caroline groaned helplessly. Two long fingers pumped their way between her tight folds, eased by the thick cream of her desire.

  “Oh, yeah. You’re wet.” He scissored her clit between two fingers, and she arched her back, gasping.

  “A little.” Actually, a lot. She set her feet farther apart, knowing if he decided to push her down and take her, she’d welcome him. She was one deep breath from begging as it was.

  “Mmmmmm. This is the good part.” Galahad paused to trace his tongue over one of the whorls of her ear. “The anticipation. I’m going to take you right to the edge. And then…” He lowered his head to lick her pulse. “…I’m going to bite.” Strong fingers stroked right up into her core as his thumb strummed her clit.

  Caroline groaned. He’d discovered a delicate little bundle of nerves right over her pulse. He raked his fang tips across it as he played with her. She felt the orgasm building, teased to unbearable heights by those clever fingers. She arched against him as he pumped both fingers into her depths, squeezed her nipple with tender brutality.

  And bit into her straining throat as he flicked a skillful thumb over her clit.

  Her strangled gasp of pain spiraled into a cry of pleasure as her orgasm burst free. That first sweet wave was followed by a second, and then a third. Writhing mindlessly in Galahad’s arms, she came in long dizzy pulses as he drank.

  HER blood burned hotter than the whiskey had, flooding his mouth with its raw, intoxicating taste. Galahad tightened his grip in instinctive greed, wishing he were naked so he could feel every silken inch of her long, supple body.

  He drank hungrily, drank until it should be time to start tapering off, drank until his cock ached. Caroline went right on pumping hard. It really had been way too long for her. She needed more drawn off, and he was delighted to comply.

  Almost as delighted as he would have been to thrust into the tight, creamy flesh he coul
d feel gripping his fingers. He was hard as a pole arm behind his armor.

  But now was not the time, so all Galahad could do was work her with his fingers and drive her to another convulsing orgasm while he drank. Her nails raked the engraved steel of his armor as he fed.

  Finally, after long, delicious moments, the pressure eased off. Galahad lifted his head, cradling her, knowing she’d feel dizzy from the sudden decrease in that murderous blood pressure.

  “Thank you,” he said in her ear. His voice sounded hoarse, and he cleared his throat.

  “Oohhhh.” She hung in his arms, panting. “That was…incredible.”

  Galahad grinned over her head. “My pleasure.”

  “I…” She stopped to swallow. “I’ve never come like that just from being…”

  “Bitten?”

  “That, too.” She straightened in his arms as if making a deliberate effort to pull herself together. “Is it always like that?”

  It had been pretty damn intense. More so than the last time he’d…Well, actually he couldn’t remember the last time it had been that hot. “You needed it more than most.” Yeah, that sounded good. He turned her carefully in his arms, made her meet his gaze. “How are you feeling now?”

  She blinked, her cheeks a little flushed, her eyes glazed. “Good, actually. Better. Which is funny, because I’d expected to feel weak after losing that much blood.”

  “That’s because you damn near waited too long. If you’d gone one more day without being milked, you’d have popped something that would have killed you.” He laid a hand alongside her face to gather her floating attention. “Never do that again, Caroline. It’s not something to fool around with. When you feel pain or weakness, don’t just magic it away. Tell someone.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She swayed against him. “Ummm. A chair would be good.”

  Galahad guided her over to one and tried to ignore the thoughts those long, bare legs inspired as she sat down. They had other fish to fry.