would have done exactly what he did when I arrived—gone airborne. What the hell was the team going to do with him flying around three hundred feet over their heads? I had to shift and go after him, which is what I knew I was going to have to do to start with! Kel had told me if I could stall the dragon for a half hour, he’d be able to come help me fry the bastard.”
“Yeah, assuming you could survive that long. Given the fucker was twice your size, I seriously doubt you’d have been able to make it a half hour. Face it—you and those girls would have ended up eaten if the team hadn’t arrived when they did.”
“I had it handled, Arthur!”
“Bullshit! You had no business playing Lone Ranger with the scaly bastard.” His face turned grim. “Especially not today. Your judgment has always sucked on February third.” He smiled, but it had the quality of a grimace. “Not that I blame you. Mordred could warp anybody.”
She blew out a breath, staring sightlessly at one of the tapestries that lined the chamber. This one depicted battling knights fighting with sword and spear during the Battle of Camlann, when Arthur had killed Mordred, their murderous son. “Yeah, but I should be over it by now. I thought I was, dammit. I thought I’d banished my ghosts, but I’m still having nightmares.”
“Kiddo, unlike mortals, we never forget a fuckin’ thing. Makes it tough to get objective distance.” He drummed his fingers on Excalibur’s hilt where the big sword hung at his hip. “Which is why these postmortems are so important, even if they do sting like a motherfucker. You should have called in
more
backup, not left the backup you had cooling their heels on Mortal Earth.”
Really, what could she say to that? He was right. “All right, maybe I miscalculated. I’ll remind you, it’s not like I make a habit of it. It won’t happen again.”
Arthur was silent so long, Morgana had to look at him again. She found him studying her with such calculation in his dark eyes, she instantly had to wonder what the hell he was thinking. “Unfortunately,” he said at last, “I don’t think that’s the case.”
“What do you mean by that?” She glared at him.
Being Arthur, he didn’t look away. “I mean it’s going to happen again unless you address the root cause of this mess: the sexual tension between you and your team that’s interfering with your ability to assess situations coolly and unemotionally.”
“My sex life is not your business, Arthur.”
“I will repeat: it is when it interferes with the mission. You’re arrogant, Morgana. You have a deadly habit of underestimating your foes and overestimating yourself.” His ebony eyes narrowed in a calculating expression she didn’t like a bit. “Your team might be just the ones to give you the lesson in humility you so desperately need.”
She gritted her teeth. “All I need from those three is their sword arms.”
“And if you mean to keep them, you’ll offer Percival your Oath of Service.”
Morgana stared at him in horrified shock for a heartbeat before she thought to wipe the reaction from her face. “If you think I’ll willingly become the next thing to Percival’s sex slave for the next year, you’ve taken too many blows to the head.”
Arthur studied her, and she suddenly remembered why he’d been England’s greatest king. He knew how to read people with an accuracy that was terrifying. “You’re afraid you’re going to fall in love with him.”
Her heart seemed to stop beating as the shot sank home with a sniper’s unerring accuracy. She forced a scornful laugh. “That’s absurd.”
His deep voice lowered to a dark male purr. “So you’re telling me you feel nothing at the thought of being bound hand and foot while he rides you like a mare?”
“You’re being crude, Arthur. It doesn’t suit you.” As Morgana’s mouth went dry, she looked away before she remembered herself and jerked her eyes back to his. She
“Yeah, assuming you could survive that long. Given the fucker was twice your size, I seriously doubt you’d have been able to make it a half hour. Face it—you and those girls would have ended up eaten if the team hadn’t arrived when they did.”
“I had it handled, Arthur!”
“Bullshit! You had no business playing Lone Ranger with the scaly bastard.” His face turned grim. “Especially not today. Your judgment has always sucked on February third.” He smiled, but it had the quality of a grimace. “Not that I blame you. Mordred could warp anybody.”
She blew out a breath, staring sightlessly at one of the tapestries that lined the chamber. This one depicted battling knights fighting with sword and spear during the Battle of Camlann, when Arthur had killed Mordred, their murderous son. “Yeah, but I should be over it by now. I thought I was, dammit. I thought I’d banished my ghosts, but I’m still having nightmares.”
“Kiddo, unlike mortals, we never forget a fuckin’ thing. Makes it tough to get objective distance.” He drummed his fingers on Excalibur’s hilt where the big sword hung at his hip. “Which is why these postmortems are so important, even if they do sting like a motherfucker. You should have called in
more
backup, not left the backup you had cooling their heels on Mortal Earth.”
Really, what could she say to that? He was right. “All right, maybe I miscalculated. I’ll remind you, it’s not like I make a habit of it. It won’t happen again.”
Arthur was silent so long, Morgana had to look at him again. She found him studying her with such calculation in his dark eyes, she instantly had to wonder what the hell he was thinking. “Unfortunately,” he said at last, “I don’t think that’s the case.”
“What do you mean by that?” She glared at him.
Being Arthur, he didn’t look away. “I mean it’s going to happen again unless you address the root cause of this mess: the sexual tension between you and your team that’s interfering with your ability to assess situations coolly and unemotionally.”
“My sex life is not your business, Arthur.”
“I will repeat: it is when it interferes with the mission. You’re arrogant, Morgana. You have a deadly habit of underestimating your foes and overestimating yourself.” His ebony eyes narrowed in a calculating expression she didn’t like a bit. “Your team might be just the ones to give you the lesson in humility you so desperately need.”
She gritted her teeth. “All I need from those three is their sword arms.”
“And if you mean to keep them, you’ll offer Percival your Oath of Service.”
Morgana stared at him in horrified shock for a heartbeat before she thought to wipe the reaction from her face. “If you think I’ll willingly become the next thing to Percival’s sex slave for the next year, you’ve taken too many blows to the head.”
Arthur studied her, and she suddenly remembered why he’d been England’s greatest king. He knew how to read people with an accuracy that was terrifying. “You’re afraid you’re going to fall in love with him.”
Her heart seemed to stop beating as the shot sank home with a sniper’s unerring accuracy. She forced a scornful laugh. “That’s absurd.”
His deep voice lowered to a dark male purr. “So you’re telling me you feel nothing at the thought of being bound hand and foot while he rides you like a mare?”
“You’re being crude, Arthur. It doesn’t suit you.” As Morgana’s mouth went dry, she looked away before she remembered herself and jerked her eyes back to his. She
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