CHAPTER ONE
This was the last place Tammy Tremaine wanted to be, but she had no choice. The night sky was lit with green and gold neon, the desert heat of September cooling rapidly. The odors of the oil that stained the cement of the loading dock and the smell of rancid food emanating from broken wooden crates overwhelmed her search for calm.
A limousine pulled up about a hundred feet down from the family’s innocent-looking delivery truck. Morgan emerged from the limo. Everything started to slow down for Tammy. She stepped out from behind the truck like she was being pulled.
Then a young guy got out, dressed in jeans and boots and a long-sleeved work shirt or something. He had wavy brown hair down to his broad shoulders. His face was all cheekbones, full lips and light-colored eyes, his complexion pale. He gazed around him, blinking in wonder.
Tammy’s stomach dropped to the vicinity of her feet. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even blink. A tidal wave of emotions crashed over her. Fear for sure. Horror? Probably. And most dangerous of all, exhilaration. Tammy struggled to focus. The family was here to rescue her brother Lan and his chosen, Greta. But all she could think about was…him.
“Morgan,” Tris hissed to the others crouching behind the van. “Wand.”
Morgan carried the weapon that had put her father in a coma. The ground rolled suddenly. Tammy instinctively hit the ground. Las Vegas wasn’t exactly a hotspot for earthquakes. Explosion? Sharp cracks sounded as fissures appeared in the concrete loading dock of the Luxor’s conference center. Metal railings groaned as they twisted. Two men from the limo stumbled to grab the young man and scrambled up the concrete steps. He pulled back, searching for something, or someone. Tammy was so afraid he was looking for her. Or so hopeful.
As she got to her feet, her brother called to her to get back behind the van. Another rolling quake hit. She rocked with it but she didn’t give ground. Tris clutched at her. Morgan whirled and pointed the Wand. A channel of light and force slashed the van. Beside her Tris held up his hands, calling the power of the earth to heat the Wand before Morgan’s aim improved. Morgan ducked into the doorway at the top of the stairs for protection. But the young man slowly turned in the doorway and stared straight at Tammy. His eyes widened.
Oh, God. He feels it too. Her bones were realigned inside her. Her muscles screamed. Her head felt like it would burst. And she knew.
The warehouse behind the beautiful guy burst into flame. Tongues of orange and red haloed him.
Tammy Tremaine, you are so screwed.
“Get out. Hurry up,” his mentor ordered. He’d learned only recently that her name was Morgan Le Fay, and even that she was a woman.
“Yes, ma’am,” Thomas murmured, scooting over to the open door in the automobile. His senses were on overload. Seventeen years in a monastery without running water hadn’t prepared him for the press of humanity in the Athens airport, the lights, the noise, the plane ride. His mentor was the keeper of his purpose. And now the purpose she had been grooming him for since he was eight or nine was at hand.
He put out a hand to the car door to steady himself. The colored lights and the huge monolith buildings made his head reel. What place was this? A pyramid shot a beam of pure white light from its golden apex. A golden sphinx glowed just beyond. He looked around, seeking something that would anchor him. But all he saw was a huge tower striped with green lights, and behind him the gleaming turrets of a medieval castle.
The earth shook and heaved under his feet. They all staggered. He gripped the stair rail.
“What the fuck is that?” his mentor yelled.
“Explosion,” the driver shouted as the ground heaved again.
“Tremaines,” she hissed. “Get him inside.”
Thomas felt a premonition fill him. Everything seemed to slow down. He felt the driver’s grip on his biceps. The building rolled with another upheaval. The metal railing of the stairs twisted and broke. Dust from crumbling concrete rose around him. But all these sensations receded like waves into the Mediterranean, leaving no mark.
The only thing important was behind him.
He twisted out of the men’s grip in slow motion, craning to see her.
Shock shuddered through his body.The light from the high pole above the concrete made her hair a flaming nimbus around her head. He had never seen anyone with hair that color. Her eyes—what color were her eyes? Something light, but very intense—blue or green. She wore a dress with bright magenta flowers that did not even reach her knees. It fitted her torso tightly but flared out over her hips. The straps left creamy white shoulders and chest visible above the fabric across her breasts. Her legs were long and graceful. She was the most enchanting creature he had ever seen.
The girl stared at him as though struck as much as he was. The impact of her gaze hit him harder than Brother Theodosius’s scourge. The moment stretched, tense, as their eyes locked. This, this was what he was meant for, who he was meant for.
His mentor raised her walking stick. He sucked in a breath as a channel of light burst from her staff and slashed at the vehicle parked next to the beautiful creature. It split and smoked. A walking stick that spat destruction?
A man came out from behind the large vehicle and held up his palms toward them. The staff began to glow dull red like coals, and his mentor threw it inside the building with a curse. “Get him inside,” she ordered. The driver grabbed Thomas and dragged him back.
He felt his insides lurch. From the corners of his eyes he saw flames lick at the walls inside the building. They seemed to echo the fire in his belly. He burned both inside and outside. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
She mattered.
The man who had made the staff glow yelled, “Tammy, what do you think you’re doing?” He grabbed Tammy’s attention and hauled her rudely behind the vehicle. Her gaze didn’t leave Thomas’s until the very last moment. When finally their connection ripped, Thomas felt bereft. Worse than when his parents died, worse than during the long cold nights in his hut on Mt. Athos.
“Get these flames out,” his mentor yelled to the two men with them. Several more people appeared. A skinny kid, a woman with lank hair and eyes lined with dark smudges. “Where are the Tremaines being held?”
“They were in the kitchen,” the kid said.
“Were?” his mentor shrieked. The building rocked again. The flames leaped higher. Part of the ceiling collapsed ahead of them. His world was falling apart.
No. This was not his world. His world had flaming red hair and creamy white skin and she was outside. He could feel her moving. Confused, he turned to his mentor. “Who was that?” he shouted over the din.
“My enemies, Thomas,” she yelled. “Don’t worry. They’ll soon be dead.”
But he didn’t want them dead. At least, not one of them.
