“You do know you’re going to drive me stark, raving mad?” he whispered against her mouth, demanding another hungry kiss before lifting his head. “Let’s get this over with.”

She appeared momentarily dazed, her hands lifting to touch her lips. Then, with a shake of her head, she was tilting her chin and forcing her feet to carry her into the cell.

Cezar was a half step behind her.

Unlike the dirt tunnels, the cell was lined with heavy lead that was etched with scrolling symbols that looked faintly like hieroglyphics. The room had been hexed by an imp to dampen any magic.

In the corner of the small cell was a cot where the once beautiful Sybil Taylor rested in silent peace.

Ignoring the gargoyle who was circling the cell, his eyes closed as he used his senses to detect any lingering spells. Anna moved to stare down at the fairy.

“She looks so peaceful,” she breathed. “Almost like she’s sleeping.”

Cezar moved to her side with a faint grimace. “I can’t detect magic, but I do know the scent of death.”

“Oui, she’s dead,” Levet offered.

“The question is how?” Cezar growled.

Levet opened his eyes, a faintly puzzled expression on his ugly face. “I smell…pomegranates.”

“Pomegranates?” Anna lifted her head, her face pale and her eyes dark with a strange, powerful emotion. “Sybil always smelled of apples.”

Levet’s wings gave a small flutter. “Fey magic. I don’t know how, but whoever did this was very powerful.”

“It was the woman from my dream,” Anna said slowly, licking her dry lips. “I smelled pomegranates when she looked at me.”

“What dream?” Styx demanded from the doorway.

There was a short, tense silence as every eye turned toward Anna. Cezar paused, inwardly cursing. This was not how he wanted to tell Anna what he suspected.

“It was a dream of Morgana,” Cezar at last said, his tone flat and his gaze on Anna’s fragile features.

“Morgana le Fay?” Styx demanded.

Cezar gave a reluctant nod as Anna’s eyes widened and her mouth parted in shock.

“Morgana-freaking-le-Fay?” she demanded, her voice edged with growing panic. “The sister of King Arthur? Knights? Dragons? Round tables?” She gave a wild shake of her head. “No. Way.”

Moving slow enough that Anna could track his movements, Cezar reached out to take her hands in his. Her skin was cold and clammy, revealing the depth of her shock.

“Give us a moment,” he commanded, gently pulling Anna away from the dead body and urging her into a wooden chair set in the corner.

Once the cell was cleared of demons, he squatted in front of Anna and gave her hands a squeeze.

“Anna,” he said softly. “Querida, please look at me.”

An eternity seemed to pass before the long sweep of her lashes slowly lifted to reveal her dazed, frighteningly vulnerable eyes.

“Are you going to tell me that I’ve been Punk’d?” she said, her voice so thick it made his heart contract in pain.

He gave a shake of his head. “Punk’d?”

“You know, reveal that this is all some huge joke?”

He lifted her fingers to his lips. “I can tell you that if that’s what you want.”

She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. “No, I want the truth. Tell me about this…Morgana le Fay.”

“She’s the Queen of the Fairies, although little is known of her. Since Arthur’s death she has hidden in her fortress upon Avalon.” He kept his voice cool, indifferent. It was that or growl with fury at the mere mention of the fairy queen.

“If Morgana is really after me, what does she want?” She shuddered. “Besides my heart.”

“I don’t know yet.” He paused and then cursed beneath his breath. Hell, he might as well get it over with. “I think you might be related to her.”

She jerked as if he had physically struck her. “Related to Morgana le Fay?”

“Si.”

“God.” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “Over the years I came up with a number of wacky explanations of why I was so different, but this was never one of them.”

“You preferred to believe that I was responsible?”

“Yeah.” A faint heat brushed her too pale skin. “I suppose I did.”

“And now?” he prompted.

“Now I don’t know what to think.”

Hardly a rousing vote of confidence. More like a grudging, gun-to-the-temple sort of vote.

“Anna, I would never hurt you. That night…” He bit off his impatient words as he realized that now was not the time.

“What?”

With a smooth motion he rose to his feet and began pacing the cell. Suddenly it seemed way too small. And way too filled with Anna’s sweet, fruity scent.

“There’s more,” he said abruptly. “I think that Morgana was the ‘cousin’ you lived with in London. I believe she burned down your townhouse, killing your aunt and assuming that she killed you as well.”

“No.” She rose to her feet, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. My cousin didn’t look anything like the woman in my dreams.”

“Morgana would be capable of a powerful glamour. She could have altered her appearance so that the human eye would see only what she desired.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, shivering as if the room were ice cold. “But not a demon?”

“I could have seen through her magic, although she obviously took great care not to allow me to catch sight of her,” he admitted. “You said yourself that first night she had disappeared only moments before I entered the room.”

“That’s true, but…”

Cezar rushed forward as she swayed and nearly pitched face first onto the ground. With a tenderness he didn’t even know he possessed, he was carefully urging her back into the chair.

“Here.” His hands tightened on her shoulders as she struggled to rise. “No, querida, just sit for a minute. Breathe.” He watched as she drew in a shaky breath. “Again.”

In time the greenish tint left her cheeks and she was lifting her head to meet his concerned gaze. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For acting like a pansy after my big speech about wanting to be Xena Warrior Princess.”

His hands absently stroked over her shoulders, not at all certain how to ease the shivers that still shook her body.

Dammit. He didn’t like seeing her so shaken. It made him want to…kill something.

Preferably something of the fairy variety.

“I don’t know any Xena, but I suspect that even a warrior princess would be a little shaky in your position,” he murmured.

“You mean, if she discovered she possessed a murderous cousin who tried to burn her to death in her own bed and now is on the hunt for her heart?”

“Anna, I can’t be certain that it was Morgana who burned your house.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “But I think we should at least consider the possibility.”

“Yes. Yes, you’re right.” She lifted her hands to rub her temples. “I need…I need to think.”

“There will be time for that later.”

“Actually there won’t be.” She lowered her hands and glanced at the watch strapped to her wrist. “I have a flight to L.A. that leaves in less than six hours.”

“No.”

Cezar cursed his abrupt response as her eyes narrowed and her expression hardened. After five centuries of dealing with females of every race and persuasion, he should have learned that the one way to make them dig in their heels was to give them a direct command.

“What did you say?” she demanded.

Cezar paused, considering his words with care. It was time for a little damage control. He would prefer not to be forced to hold her against her will.

There were lots of women who found being chained to a bed as sexy as hell, but unfortunately Anna wasn’t one of them.

“Anna, you must remain here,” he said, his voice soft. “At least you will be safe.”

She deliberately glanced toward the dead Sybil. “Not so safe.”

“Then I will take you…”

“No, Cezar.” She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to try and hide her shivers. “I can’t spend the rest of eternity in hiding, or constantly on the run.”

“It won’t be for an eternity.”

“You think Morgana le Fay is going to forget about me?” she demanded. “Or maybe she’ll suddenly have a Dr. Phil moment and decide it isn’t really nice to go around killing her family?”

Cezar curled his hands in frustration. He couldn’t reveal her destiny with the Oracles. Nor the fact that once she became a member of the Commission no demon, no matter how desperate, would dare risk the wrath of the Oracles in an attempt to harm her.

“Your powers will continue to grow every day,” he said, his hand reaching out to lightly stroke her hair. “Soon enough you will be able to protect yourself. Until then you need to remain with those who can keep you hidden from Morgana.”