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And then she’d been snatched away right in front of him.

If Rhiannon was responsible then he had only himself to blame. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the moment he’d dared give into the feelings Briana awakened in him, she’d been attacked and snatched away.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword to the point of pain.

“You’re not leaving me here.”

Lucan ignored the enchantress, too intent on finding Briana to worry about whether the other immortal stayed or followed him.

Her steps trailed his at a cautious distance as they descended a never-ending staircase at the end of the hall. He’d purposely allowed the shadows of his phantom form to trail at his feet, guaranteeing she didn’t get too close.

Had he realized how long it would take to reach the bottom, however, he would have locked her in the wardrobe. Either the female didn’t have enough sense to be quiet, considering they’d been abducted, or she assumed talking was of no consequence when she could attempt to seduce their captor into releasing her.

Lucan half hoped a troll had been responsible. Even an enchantress, who wasn’t exactly known for being selective about who she they slept with, would struggle with seducing one of Morgana’s experimental beasts.

“Seva.”

He’d refused to respond to anything the enchantress said, hoping his silence would discourage her endless chatter. So far it hadn’t taken. Sometime during their trek down the staircase, she’d forgotten to be afraid of him. Maybe another flash of his sword would remind her.

They finally reached the bottom of the steps, and he frowned at their modern surroundings, immediately glancing at the staircase behind them that no longer looked the same.

“My name,” she clarified. “It’s Seva.”

Lucan ignored that too. He didn’t know what he was doing here, but it wasn’t to make friends. He’d find Briana and figure out a way to get her back to her brothers.

Seva moved ahead of him, straight into the kitchen. “By the gods, I’m starving. You’d be surprised how hard multiple orgasms can be on the body. I really need to get my energy levels back up.” She opened cupboard doors, then a walk-in fridge. “Jackpot,” she called out. “Are you as hungry as I am?”

He waited for her to think that through.

She finally poked her head out of the fridge, her fingers curling protectively around her throat. “Please tell me you’re not hungry.”

He deliberately let his gaze linger on her neck, then moved on to explore the remaining rooms.

“Oooo, let’s go outside. I think they’re playing games.”

Lucan swung around. “Who?” He joined her in the doorway.

“Them.” Seva walked outside ahead of him, shielding her eyes with her hand. “Do you think she knows that wolf is stalking her?”

He followed her gaze past the pool, to the trees that nearly hid a group of immortals and the wolf creeping up on a brunette with her back turned.

Briana.

Chapter Five

On instinct, Briana twisted around to face the threat, her senses locking down the scent of a wounded wolf—fresh blood and damp fur—unprepared for how close the other gargoyle was.

The impact knocked her backward, the wolf’s front legs like granite battering rams to her chest. Toppling backward, she managed to jam her own legs up, using her feet to throw the wolf clear of her body as she hit the ground.

Using the wolf’s momentum, she carried through on the backward somersault that left her in a crouch, her claws scraping the pavement. A glimpse of familiar, star-shaped white fur on the wolf’s hind leg kept her in place.

“Vaughn?” The cat continued to snarl in the back of her mind, but in annoyance instead of aggression. Her feline half remembered all too well the games of hide and go pounce she and Vaughn had played growing up.

She hadn’t seen him in at least two hundred years, though. Not since his parents were killed by Morgana during the last rebellion to reclaim Camelot. Arthur’s half-sister had been merciless when it came to punishing those who’d risen up against her. The dozens of gargoyles and human slaves who’d survived the unsuccessful attempt to take back their lost city had been publicly executed.

Vaughn would have died with his parents if they hadn’t begged him to get his younger sister far away from the fight when it was apparent that Morgana’s army might win.

Conscious of Elena and the dragon watching, Briana stood and approached Vaughn. He shifted back to his human form with the same iridescent shimmer that accompanied every gargoyle change. His dark hair hung in stringy pieces across his forehead, not quite hiding his intense cobalt eyes. Dirt and dried blood covered his body, but not enough to mask the scars that marred his skin.

What the hell had happened to him? Had he taken his parents place in the rebellion that, despite dwindled numbers, continued to make things difficult for Morgana?

She took a step toward him.

Lucan materialized in front of her, blocking her way as he drew his sword.

Briana sucked in a breath, her body tightening under the onslaught of surprise, relief and hurt that pummeled her. She thought she’d heard him on the street, but couldn’t quite wrap her mind around him being up here too.

She forced herself to take a step back even though the cat wanted to rub against him until he ran his hands down her flank. The woman wasn’t nearly so welcoming, the sting of his rejection still too fresh in her mind.

“Lucan, don’t.”

Vaughn snarled at the press of the blade against his throat. “I don’t think your friend plays well with others, B.”

“It’s okay.” She touched Lucan’s arm, the muscles more rigid than the sword easily capable of taking her friend’s head. The familiar etchings on the blade made her frown, but the questions that came with the discovery were forgotten when she noticed the material wrapped around his knuckles was stained with blood.

Lucan’s gaze shifted to her—his eyes more black than green—and stared just long enough to remind her of what had happened between them only a short time ago. Her heart slowed to a painful rhythm that made her chest ache to hold his gaze.

He finally turned his attention back to Vaughn even as he spoke to her. “You know him?”

“He’s a friend.” A reckless childhood friend who’d chosen the wrong moment to stalk her the way he had when they were kids.

As her tracking skills had improved, Vaughn had found it increasingly difficult to take her by surprise. No doubt he would gloat over this minor victory, regardless of their current predicament. Getting in trouble had never stopped Vaughn from appreciating the adventure.

Angling his body toward Briana, Lucan kept his sword where it was. “Are you hurt?”

She held onto the pointless, Do you care? that rose to the tip of her tongue. There were more important things to deal with than the emotions running just as hot and sharp as they had in the alley behind Pendragon’s.

Vaughn flashed his teeth in feral warning at Lucan.

“Maybe the wolf needs a rabies shot.”

Briana glanced up in search of the voice, eyes widening at the sight of Nessa in one of the blossom-covered trees nearby.

The huntress perched on a gnarled limb. The red shirt she wore with her black pants had been ripped along one shoulder, barely held together where claw marks made both sides of the fabric nearly see-through.

Had Mac done that?

A vine slithered around the limb next to the toe of Nessa’s knee-high boot, but either the huntress didn’t sense the tree’s innate magic or she wasn’t threatened by it. The vine skimmed her boot just as she dropped to the ground, the tip of it lashing out and just missing her back.