“Don’t do this to yourself, Cezar,” she said sternly. “We’ll get her back.”

It was a struggle to pull himself back from the edge. He wanted to be bathed in blood, to purge himself of the aching void in the center of his chest.

Only the self-discipline forged by centuries of being imprisoned by the Oracles allowed him to fight through his bloodlust and calm his mind.

In this moment Anna needed his cold logic, not his maddened battle skills.

He would get her back.

There was no alternative.

Spinning on his heel, he began pacing the kitchen floor, his fury replaced by an icy determination.

At some point he realized that the tiny room had become crowded with his clan brothers and their mates, but he ignored their concerned glances and whispered discussions of what must be done next.

He had to find a means of finding an isle that had been hidden for over a millennium. And he had to do it within the next few moments.

Simple.

He circled the crowded room half a dozen more times before he realized that it was simple.

Dios. He’d been so stupid.

With a swift step he once again had Troy pinned to the wall. Ignoring the imp’s yelp of pain he narrowed his eyes with lethal intent.

“I know how to find her, and you’re going to help me.”

Landing face-first on the marble floor, Anna decided that she seriously disliked portals. It was a stupid, painful way to travel. Not just the whole ending up on her face part. Or the being dropped into a strange place that might be half a world away. Or even the scent of burnt linoleum that clung to her clothes.

It was the electricity that danced over her skin as if she were in the midst of a storm and she was the lightning rod.

Jeez. No matter what the benefits of being able to pop from one place to another, it wasn’t worth the sensation that she was being fried in the process.

Swallowing her groan, Anna managed to press herself to her knees to study her surroundings.

Her brows lifted at the vast room with its marble columns, the rich tapestries, the towering glass rotunda, and the golden throne set on a dais.

Avalon.

It had to be.

Only Morgana le Fay would choose a palace that looked like it had been snatched from the Hollywood set of Aladdin and top it off with a throne that was so outrageous that any self-respecting monarch would shudder in horror.

Fear blasted through her, even as she told herself this was for the best. This was one place that Cezar couldn’t follow. There would be no danger of him being killed as he sought to save her from the deranged queen.

She could concentrate completely on dealing with her dearest aunt once and for all.

Then again, she was all alone, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. Completely and utterly alone with a powerful queen who wanted her dead.

Nice.

With a sense of dread, she at last allowed her gaze to search out Morgana among the shadows. A part of her had been braced for an attack from the moment the woman had hauled her out of the kitchen. Hell, she hadn’t been entirely certain that she would even live to see the other side of the damn portal.

Now, as her senses slowly cleared, she began to wonder why she wasn’t dead.

The answer came as her gaze at last landed on Morgana.

The queen was leaning against one of the fluted columns, her hand pressed to her stomach and her pale features oddly ashen. Despite her unearthly beauty that would never fade, she looked nearly as bad as Anna felt, as if creating the portal had somehow drained her.

Strike now, she told herself.

Strike while she’s vulnerable.

Her fingers clenched around the emerald, but her powers refused to rise. Not only refused to rise, but there wasn’t so much as a tingle.

What the hell?

Desperately she forced herself to remember the endless attempts on her life, the brutal murder of the woman she had thought was her aunt, the dangers to Cezar, the tortured ghost of her grandfather.

Nothing.

Dammit. Had the trip through the portal somehow stolen her powers? Was there something about Avalon that was interfering?

Or could it be…

Cursing beneath her breath, Anna realized that it simply wasn’t in her to kill the woman while she was weak and vulnerable. It wasn’t compassion. Or at least, not entirely. It was more an absolute certainty that to kill the woman when she was incapable of defending herself would damage something inside her.

Morgana le Fay might deserve to rot in hell, but unless she forced Anna to kill her, Anna’s powers refused to violate her basic nature.

Of course, on the bright side, the odds of Morgana not trying to kill her were slim to none. The trick was obviously to provoke her into making that attempt before she regained her full powers.

Yeah…that seemed like a great plan.

At last sensing Anna’s narrowed gaze, Morgana abruptly pushed herself from the column and cloaked her weakness behind a disdainful sneer.

“Well, sweet Anna, we’re at last alone. No one can find this isle.” Her smile widened. “There will be no vampires riding to your rescue this time.”

Pretending an indifference that she was far from feeling, Anna cast a casual glance around the nauseatingly ornate room.

“So, this is Avalon?” She returned her attention to Morgana, swallowing her revulsion at the malevolent hatred that shimmered in her aunt’s gaze. “Love what you’ve done to the place.”

The older woman hissed at Anna’s flippant tone. “You cannot hide your fear behind your pathetic attempt at humor. I can smell it on you.”

Anna shrugged. “Yeah, well, I have enough sense to be a little uneasy at being trapped on a hidden island with a certifiable lunatic who wants me dead.” She deliberately paused, suppressing the horrid sensation that she was toying with a caged tiger. “Or at least you keep claiming you want me dead. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re all talk and no action.”

The mist swirling outside the glass rotunda darkened, as if reacting to Morgana’s rising fury. Still, the woman made no effort to call on her powers.

“Are you in such a hurry to taste of death?” the queen demanded.

“There’s no use putting off the inevitable, is there?”

The emerald eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Actually, Anna Randal, my first thought was to allow my minions to put an end to you. You didn’t seem particularly worthy of bothering with, but after you were stupid enough to kill so many of my poor fairies I decided that I wanted to hear you beg before you died.”

“And that’s why I’m here?” Anna waved a hand around her golden prison. “Because you want to hear me beg?”

“Of course.”

“You’re lying.”

The words had barely left her lips when Anna found herself being launched into one of the marble columns. She cracked her head, and briefly saw stars, but fortunately her ribs were intact and there didn’t seem to be an inordinate number of internal injuries.

A sure sign that Morgana was still weak.

“That is but a taste of what I can do to you, worm,” she warned. “You still think that I’m lying?”

Anna tugged her sweatshirt back into place, refusing to rub the rising lump on the back of her head.

“Oh, it’s true that you tried to have your fairies kill me and when that didn’t work you tried to do it yourself, but failed.” She shrugged. “Actually you failed more than once. And now that you know that I have the emerald, I think you’re scared. You aren’t sure that you’re powerful enough to put me in my grave.”

Anna’s taunt was nothing more than a means to annoy the woman, but surprisingly Morgana’s gaze briefly shifted toward the gem clutched in Anna’s hand, an unmistakable flare of craving darkening her eyes.

She wanted the emerald.

She wanted it desperately.

So why didn’t she just take it?

Swiftly hiding her reaction behind a grating laugh, Morgana offhandedly waved her hand.

“Did my brother convince you that a mere bauble would actually harm me? How pathetically naïve you are,” she mocked. “Did he happen to mention that he was wearing the emerald when he died? That the reason he had it in his possession is because he was buried with it?”

Anna narrowed her gaze. “If it’s so worthless then why did you almost have a seizure when you saw it?” she demanded, instinct urging her to take a step forward with her hand outstretched. Astonishingly, Morgana shifted backward. The queen might long to possess the emerald, but for some reason she was frightened by it. “And why do you back away from it now?”

“It’s revolting. The magic it holds is tainted.”

Anna studied the magnificent jewel. “It doesn’t feel tainted.”

“And what would you know of ancient magic?” Morgana hissed, regaining her composure. “You are nothing more than a child who has foolishly convinced yourself that a bit of residual blood gives you true power.”

Anna gave a short, humorless laugh. “Well, it’s certainly true that I’m much younger than you, although I haven’t considered myself a child for a number of years. Not since you murdered the woman I believed to be my aunt and forced me to live alone in the shadows.”