TheKnightsDruid
Arthur and his Knights are back and ready to kick ass!
What’s worse than a pissed off Knight? Colin Hennessy.
A war is brewing which suits Colin just fine. Shape shifter, Knight and quick tempered Irishman is a volatile combination. Colin remembers vividly his past life as Sir Kay and with it all that he loved and lost.
Juliet Boyd moves among societies rich and pampered, but she holds within her a terrible secret. One Vance Hollister is determined to exploit. Mordred is back in a new skin. Evil has a new name and Vance Hollister plans on bringing the war onto a new battlefield.
Colin and Juliet are unprepared for the flare of attraction that ignites between them from across a moonlit parking lot. Dare she open herself and expose her cursed gift? Can he save Juliet from Vance’s twisted manipulations? Or will he lose his second chance at love? A showdown between good and evil is coming to a head with Juliet and Colin right in the middle.
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The Knight’s Druid
Copyright © 2012 Shannan Albright
ISBN: 978-1-77111-ARC
Cover art by Carmen Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books
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The Knight’s Druid:
Knights of Excalibur Two
By
Shannan Albright
To my husband for all you do. Gypsy girl, thanks for talking me off the ledge every time I hit a rough patch and to my readers who follow me. This book is for you.
Chapter One
Colin blinked the sweat out of his eyes, the slight breeze a soothing cool balm to his overheated skin. Narrowing his focus, he lifted his sword, barely blocking his opponents forward thrust.
The two blades came together with a scrape and clang of steel on steel, the force of the blow vibrating up his sword arm with jarring force. Arthur always fought with a tenacity and determination very few could match. He remembered with preternatural vividness the first time he met Arthur. Seven
hundred
years ago. Arthur, a young boy his own age of eight seasons, came to foster under Collin’s fathers care. He showed a quick intellect, a shrewd mind and a propensity toward compassion for all who he came across. They became instant friends, brothers in all but blood.
Back then Colin went by Cai Hir, commonly known by the English version of Kay. Well known for his quick temper and still, Arthur saw past it to the heart of any issue Colin grappled with.
Colin swung his sword low swiping at Arthur’s legs forcing him to jump back out of the blades way. They circled, each looking for weaknesses to exploit and coming up with precious little. Both were far too evenly matched for a quick victory. Colin swept his sword into an upward thrust, lunging in and closing the distance with the sudden burst of speed. Arthur parried with a grunt of effort which brought a smile to Colin’s face.
Arthur’s weapon emitted a high pitch whistle as he thrust and parried Colin’s attack. Muscle and bone, sweat and determination led each strike. A deadly dance both men knew intimately. Colin barely raised his sword in time to block the blur of steel rushing at his throat. The contact made sparks fly as their swords slid along each other to lock at the hilts, filling the air with the sound of scraping metal.
Arthur pressed his advantage, hooking a foot around Colin’s leg and pushed him off balance. Colin’s back met the ground with a resounding
oomph
. The air left his lungs in a rush.
“Do you yield?” Arthur demanded, pressing his sword lightly into Colin’s chest.
The man barely broke a sweat, Colin thought with irritation while he lay like a gutted fish gasping for air and sweat pouring off him.
“You
arse
, you cheated!” he huffed grumpily, pulling a damp lock of hair away from his face. “Have you no shame man?”
Removing the blade, Arthur offered his hand and hoisted Colin to his feet. “None at all. You taught me well, even if you are Irish.”
“I take offense to that. Perhaps tomorrow I will whip an apology from you on behalf of my dear old mum.”
“You had a mother?” Arthur feigned surprise.
“Oh, now you cast aspersions upon my mum? ‘Tis evil that you are, evil to the core.” Colin shook his head with mock despair causing a bark of laughter out of Arthur.
“Come on, it’s time to clean up and see if there has been any news on Drake and Merci.” Arthur turned, heading away from the practice field.
Colin followed his old friend up the narrow beach trail leading back to the compound in companionable silence. Arthur bought the twenty-five acres of land several years ago while on a visit to Malibu Beach in Southern California. The headquarters he built nestled against the cliff with a view of woodlands and the Pacific Ocean. The structure spread out from a central hub and four wings that stretched out like spokes of a wheel. The wings were used for lodging his reincarnated knights, staff and others who worked for Temple Security. The main building served as the area where all of Arthur’s men congregated, strategized, and relaxed. A deep ache of loss twisted in his gut. The parallels to his time in Camelot and the Malibu instillation were not lost on him. Sometimes a chill would creep up the back of his neck at the similarities. Sometimes, he mused, it was a curse to remember your past lives.
He mentally buried those thoughts and focused on the here and now. “Don’t be getting your hopes up on this,” Colin warned darkly. “Drake and Merci may have defeated Nimue, but the menace still breathes. If you’d let me do my job this threat would have been neutralized already.” He didn’t hide his resentment. Mordred still breathed, plotting to put an end to Arthur and all who allied with him.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Arthur ground out, between clenched teeth, “Every time I send one of you out on a mission I wonder if this is it, this time one of you will come back in pieces or not at all.”
Colin placed a hand on Arthurs arm, stopping him in mid stride. “That’s not your call to make. We all know the risks. You can’t be responsible for everyone’s actions and you know it. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and be the leader we know you to be.”
Colin’s brutal honesty, callous though it seemed, affected Arthur better than anything else, chasing away some of the shadows from the man’s eyes. He couldn’t afford to have Arthur wallow in regret. Not with so much at stake. He knew Mordred weighed heavily on his friend’s mind, as it did for all of them. Drake and Merci were caught in the net of Mordred’s making. They nearly died in the confrontation with Mordred’s ally Nimue. If not for the Goddess Viviane’s intervention they would not be on their way back from Avalon with Excalibur and Lancelot in tow.
Colin knew they stood on the precipice of war. Mordred threw the gauntlet down with the invitation to a charity event being held at his offices in Woodland Hills. Colin planned on a direct attack; unfortunately Arthur got back before he got a clear shot at the bastard.
Yeah, Arthur wanted to spoil his fun by having a plan in place. To Colin’s way of thinking he much preferred a direct assault, hit him hard and fast then retreat. True, there would be bloodshed involved; lots of it and the wolf buried deep in his shape shifting genes licked his jowls at the thought of it.
Sometimes it was good to be a shifter.
“Time to get cleaned up, we only have a few hours before the charity event starts and I want everyone in place before Mordred makes his appearance.”
A prickle of unease slithered down his spine, a sense that everything he knew about to change and not all for the better sat like a boulder in his belly.
He had a feeling it would be a very bad night.
Colin let his gaze wander over the crowded room. Watching as Arthur conversed with several couples over a glass of wine. Darius, Simon and Neal called out over his ear bud, reporting their positions throughout the room. If Mordred so much as sneezed in Arthur’s direction they would be there to shield him. To the casual observer he looked like just another wealthy patron, using this charity event as a tax write-off. He affected a bored casual air, blending in as a chameleon to his environment.
Looks were deceiving.
Colin, though wealthy enough, coming from a prosperous family in Ireland, was not even close to bored. One only had to look closer to see the intensity in his gaze as he studied his surroundings, a deadly predator amongst the flock of sheep.
He watched the glittering throng of the over privileged, chattering gaily as they milled about the large reception area of Dragonwick Enterprises. The place reeked of old money and privilege. Chandeliers hung high from the vaulted ceiling, tear drops of leaded crystal shimmered from the lights like ice. The oak floor gleamed in the massive room stretching to a curved stairway leading to the balcony above where Dragonwick offices were located. Tall panes of smoky glass surrounded the room, arched doors set on either side of the room led to the gardens surrounding the building.
“I need some air,” he spoke low so no one would detect the mic hidden in his tux pocket.
Darius’s deep voice came clear as a bell. “Roger that, we have it handled here.”
“I’m good and have a direct shot at Arthur,” Simon’s deep bass confirmed.
“And I’m babysitting the whole crew.” Neil’s chuckle sounded in his ear.
Colin chuckled softly. “Then I’ll leave it in your capable hands old man.”
“Just who do you think your calling old?” Neil demanded, humor thick in his tone.
Smiling to himself he turned his attention to getting the hell out of the pretentious parade surrounding him. The cloying aroma of perfume and cologne assaulted his sensitive nose, making breathing next to impossible. He strolled through the crowded room, angling toward the opened patio doors and the fresh air beckoning to him. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the tantalizing scent of pine and salty brine of the ocean. Leaning against the door frame, his gaze swept up toward the balcony, his body tensed with shocked surprise. A man stood with his hands resting on the wood rails. Dressed in a tux, dark hair swept back from a face he knew. He forced his muscles to relax, schooling his features into a bored mask of disinterest.
“Darius, up on the balcony,” he murmured.
“Yeah, we see him. Arthur’s on it,” Darius acknowledged.
Vance Hollister in the flesh. Colin narrowed his eyes on his old enemy, though he may be in a different skin, he would recognize him anywhere. His mannerisms were still the same and if he’d been closer, Colin would no doubt scent the stench of evil from his rotted soul. The mere thought of the sulfurous odor made him want to retch. As he watched, Vance turned away slightly, leaning into a woman who joined him. His heart stuttered in his chest.
Dressed in a royal blue gown which hugged every delectable curve, stood the most beautiful woman Colin ever laid eyes on. Even from a distance he noted her light brown hair shining in the lights, a small face with high cheekbones and a full mouth made for kissing. An aura of innocence surrounded her like a cloak and he found himself wishing to be close enough to see the color of her large, expressive eyes as she looked up at Vance. He noted her small form, curvy in all the right spots. She stood barely past Vance’s chest, did she have heels on? How would she feel pressed up against his body?
He ground his teeth at the thought of her being that close to his enemy, her face upturned toward his almost like a lover waiting for him to kiss those delectable lips. Vance took her hand raising it to his mouth and a growl broke through Colin, rumbling low in his chest. Several people turned, perplexed at the noise emitting from him. Oh yes, she was into him. The thought pissed him off for some reason he couldn’t fathom he only knew one thing. He needed to get away from his ancient enemy and the female who stirred his blood him nervous. Without a backward glance he stalked out the doors and into the darkened gardens beyond the lights.
