Page 6 of Enchanted Warrior

“Stay where you are!” Gawain roared, already knowing he had lost. “Angmar! I will bring you home! I swear it!”

The two men vanished in an ear-popping rush of magic.

Gawain crawled to his feet, biting back a torrent of curses. He had to find out where Mordred had taken the fae. And once he had, he would require the swords of his fellow knights to take Mordred down.

But to do that, he had to find the tombs. Tamsin Greene had to provide that information, and quickly. Without it, he was lost.

ChapterThree

Ten minutes after Tamsin had watched Gawain vanish, she was still sitting on the steps outside the church, her chin in her hands. A cloud passed over the sun and she looked up, grimacing as she caught sight of the gargoyles perched over the porch staring down at her. The weather was freezing cold, but she couldn’t bring herself to go back inside. Gawain had targeted every one of her vulnerabilities. He’d overpowered her, aroused her, challenged her and, in the end, rejected her. The moment he’d detected her talent, he’d shut down and moved her from the box marked “woman” and put her in the one marked “witch.” Untouchable. Repulsive. Dangerous.

The memory of it left her shaking with fury.

Her cell phone rang. “Hello?” She snapped as she answered it, not able to keep her mood from leaking into her voice.

“What are you doing in Washington State?” Tamsin’s sister demanded, fear edging the frosty words. “I went away for a week. Just one week and you skipped town like a fugitive.”

“I got a research job. It came up unexpectedly and I jumped on the opportunity.” Immediately, Tamsin’s anger collapsed into homesickness. She pressed the cell phone tight to her ear, as if that would bring her closer to Stacy. “It’s at Medievaland Theme Park.”

“Are you serious? Fake jousting and wenches with beer?”

“It’s better than it sounds. The church has a fabulous collection of early manuscripts. You know old documents are my thing.”

“Carlyle is on the other side of the country,” Stacy protested. “You’re thousands of miles away.”

Tamsin leaned against one of the stone pillars of the porch, grateful of its ancient, sturdy support. “I got approval from the Coven Elders to take the job.”

“You did?” Stacy sounded shocked.

“I’m not a fool.” The old witch families kept their members close, and breaking their rules was a serious mistake. Their punishments had been the same for centuries—loss of a witch’s powers and a lifetime of servitude in the Elders’ cold gray halls. “They want me here examining the collection. The coven hasn’t had a researcher since Dad passed.” Her breath hitched at the mention of her father, even after a decade with him gone.

Stacy heard it and paused before continuing. “What about, you know, Mom’s plans?”

“What plans?” Tamsin asked, though she knew perfectly well what her sister meant.

“Mom worries you’ll end up alone. She says she’ll talk to the Elders about a match for you.”

Tamsin blew out an exasperated breath, rubbing at the tattoo on her wrist. Elders arranged marriages when and where they saw fit, but that hardly ever happened in the modern age. Still, Tamsin planned to minimize that risk by proving herself valuable as a loremaster—and staying as far out of the Elders’ sight as possible.

“Talk her out of it,” she begged. “Please.”

“I’ll try, but Mom treats me the same way,” Stacy said. “It’s not just about finding a husband. She worries something bad will happen if I go to the corner store. A witch needs her coven’s protection, especially these days. The shadow world is stirring.”

Tamsin pulled the phone from her ear. A dark cloud of energy shimmered around it, the magical echo of Stacy’s unhappiness. Tamsin swallowed hard, shards of emotion caught in her throat. It would be so simple to give in and run home, like a chick diving beneath the coven’s protective wing. But then her future would end at the edges of their small, isolated town.

After a deep breath, Tamsin held the phone to her ear again. “Tell Mom I’ll come home for Thanksgiving. But only for a few days. I need this job.”

“Okay, okay,” Stacy said softly. “I’m worried about you.”

The cloud of energy around the phone turned to a faint rose color—a sign of her sister’s concern. “Call me if you need me,” Stacy added. “Anytime, you hear?”

Tamsin smiled through sudden sadness. “I hear you. I know how to keep myself safe.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, sis.” Tamsin ended the call and slipped her phone into the pocket of her costume.

Tamsin rubbed her arms, unable to let go of the heaviness the phone call had left behind. The Elders didn’t reveal much about the shadow world, but Tamsin’s father had. There were other magic users beside the witches—faeries and ogres and who knew what else just beyond the comforting lights of the modern world. Once there had even been demons.

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