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     to her progress and almost soared into another bulkhead before wrenching to an awkward halt.
    No longer glowing brightly, the Staff now appeared like a real bough with carved symbols in the bark. Runes. But it was way
     more than a branch with ancient carvings.
    Jordan slid his hand over the Staff with a familiarity that suggested he knew every rune, every centimeter of it by heart.
     His pointer finger stopped over a marking that reminded her of a key. A straight piece of metal connected a crystal at one
     end and a triangular stone on the other. He pushed on the crystal, and the staff slowly lost its very dim glow.
    “It’s like no power source I’ve ever seen,” she murmured, edging back to avoid touching him. But that wasn’t really protection.
     The self-confidence that always radiated from him was sexually potent, and now he seemed more certain of himself than ever.
     She ignored the ruffling of her scales, the racing of her pulse. “What fuels the Staff?”
    As if he suspected she was fighting desire, his stare was bold and assessed her frankly. “The Staff eats pure energy.”
    She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “It eats? You’re speaking as if it’s alive.”
    He stood, his broad back to the Staff, and eyed her with a critical squint. “I don’t have time to teach you basic six-dimensional
     quantum physics.”
    She’d never heard of six-dimensional quantum physics, and he’d just called it basic.
    In the confined space, she boldly met his glittering blue gaze. “Who are you?”
    He raised a dark eyebrow, his voice sounding husky and weary. “If I told you, you’d accuse me of lying again.”
    “Try me.” She folded her arms across her chest, determined to ignore his smoldering look.
    “I’ve gone by many names. Chen. Jordan. The one you’ll recognize is… Merlin.”
    Merlin.
“As in King Arthur? Camelot? That Merlin?”
    He nodded.
    “Okay, so your mother had a romantic bent, but—”
    “My mother didn’t name me after Merlin. My real name’s unpronounceable to most of your people, so I took one that was close.
     Jordan.”
    “Sorry, I’m not following you.”
    “When I came to Earth to join King Arthur Pendragon in the fight against the Tribes, I lived in Camelot and I took the name
     Merlin.”
    Holy shit.
He was right about one thing. She didn’t believe him. In the last few years, she’d come to accept that the legendary King
     Arthur Pendragon was not from Earth but had come from a moon called Pendragon, that he’d traveled to Earth in an ancient transporter
     that was currently known as Stonehenge, and that he’d come to Earth with a contingent of aliens, Knights of the Round Table,
     to help Earth fight the Tribes.
    Arthur had been only partially successful. Before his death, he’d hidden the Holy Grail safely away in Avalon, an ancient
     edifice on the Pendragon moon. And now the Tribes had the Grail once again. But for Jordan to claim he knew King Arthur… he’d
     have to have lived for more than fifteen centuries.
    Half in anticipation, half in dread, she asked, “You’re saying you’re over fifteen hundred years old?”
    Again, he nodded.
    “Funny, you don’t look a day over thirty.”
    His eyes glinted with humor. “I don’t age.”
    “You don’t age?”
    He looked her straight in the eyes and nodded.
    Okay. He seemed to lie without a conscience. She’d remember that. But she played along for the moment. “Wasn’t Merlin an old
     man with a beard in Arthurian legend?”
    “Just one of my many disguises.”
    “You’re immortal?”
    He eyed her with a calculating expression. “Let’s just say I have the potential to live a very, very long time.”
    He was as serious as engine failure. Clearly he believed what he was saying. Or he was the best liar she’d ever met.
    Vivianne hadn’t reached her position in life without being able to think outside the box, too. Time to reassess.
    Wrapping her skepticism around her, she