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Latents had contracted Mageverse Fever, forcing the Knights of the Round Table to hunt her down and execute her. She’d been trying to murder another Latent at the time.
    Transforming people was definitely not something to screw around with. Especially not King Arthur’s beloved son.
    Better damned well not be a vision .
     
     
    She lay over the pile of pillows, her backside lifted in seductive invitation, pale and deliciously curving in the moonlight. Her delicate wrists were handcuffed together at the small of her back, and a silk scarf blindfolded her.
    Helpless. She was so deliciously helpless.
    Logan’s cock jerked in dark arousal at the sight of her lying there, long legs parted. Ready for him.
    He touched her, fingertips tracing the luscious curve of her bottom. The scent of her arousal teased his senses, rich and ripe, blending with the delicate floral scent of her hair.
    He could hear her heart beating, thumping strong and hard with her excitement. The sound made his fangs slide slowly from their housings in his jaw. Lust raked him with delicate needle claws.
    “Ohhhh, yeah,” he breathed. “You’re getting wet, aren’t you? Ready for me.”
    “Yes,” she whispered. “God, yes.”
    “You want me?”
    “Yes.”
    “You want my cock?”
    “Yes! Oh, yes!”
    Suddenly unable to wait any longer, he caught her slender hips, angled her upward. Entered her tight, wet body in one hard stroke that made her gasp and jerk her hips. Even as he began to thrust, she drove back at him, grinding eagerly. The sensation made his head spin.
    He braced himself on his arms and lowered his head as he fucked her, breathing in her rich scent, loving the hot beat of her heart. His fangs twinged. Unable to wait any longer, he dipped his head, found her banging pulse with his lips.
    Bit deep. She gasped in blended pain and pleasure.
    Her blood flooded his mouth, more delicious than anything he’d ever tasted, hot and seductive and impossibly arousing. Unable to resist, he drank in long swallows, greedy for her, loving the snug grip of her sex around his aching cock, loving the way she whimpered in breathless delight.
    The orgasm hit him in a ruthless, blinding fl ood, sweeping him up and away.
    When it was over, he collapsed against her, panting. “Oh, God,” he moaned, taking his fangs from her throat. “I never experienced anything like . . .”
    Blood covered her mangled throat. Panicking, he jerked the blindfold off.
    Giada’s beautiful gray eyes stared at nothing, blank and dead.
     
     
    Logan jolted awake with a strangled gasp of raw terror, his heart banging a kettledrum beat of panic. “Jesu!” He groped for the bedside lamp, switched it on.
    And collapsed in raw relief.
    A dream. Thank Merlin, it had only been a dream.
    But then, he’d known that. He’d been having variations of the same nightmare since he was fourteen years old, with whatever girl he was attracted to at the time playing the starring role.
    Though come to think of it, this nightmare had been more detailed than usual. More intense. Almost like a vision.
    Except vampires didn’t have visions. And anyway, he was just a Latent. Still.
    Thank God.
     
     
    In the inky shadows under an azalea bush, Smoke yawned. Gods and devils, he was bored. He could almost wish the boy would come pelting outside and roar off in his police car, lights and sirens flashing, headed to another of his damned arson investigations.
    Instead, it seemed Smoke was doomed to another night of agonizing ennui trapped under the row of bushes outside Logan’s sprawling brick split-level. Familiar territory, since it was the same house where Gwen and Arthur had raised the boy.
    Smoke had been a regular guest back then, having taken interest in Logan during his visits to court with his parents. Lonely mortal boy, surrounded by immortals, with a brilliant, questing mind Smoke had delighted in educating.
    The Mageverse was not, by and large, a good place to raise a mortal child.