Master of the Night Read Online Free

have walked away,” Morgana said coldly, her elegant lip curling in disgust as she bent to examine the wound in Lizzie’s chest. “We told him she wouldn’t be able to withstand gaining a Maja’s powers, but he had to go and Change her anyway. And look what happened. They ended up killing each other.”
    â€œFor once, Morgana, you’re wrong. She killed him, but he didn’t kill her.” Reece rose to his feet, feeling stiff and old. “I did.” He started toward the door.
    Arthur caught his arm before he could brush by. “You did what you had to do, lad. There was no saving her.”
    â€œI doubt that.” He looked at Morgana, bitterness and grief making him reckless. “With your powers, you could have found a way to cure her.”
    The Maja sighed. “No, actually, we couldn’t have. Oh, we could have restored her to sanity for a few minutes, but the energies of the Mageverse would have quickly overwhelmed her mind again. And once a Maja has access to her magic, the connection can’t be severed.” She shook her head, her long hair swinging around her lean, elegant face. “Their fates were sealed the moment Westlake came in her that last time.”
    Reece pulled free of Arthur’s grasp. “I knew that before I walked in the door.”

ONE
    Avalon, Mageverse Earth
Present Day
    Reece sprawled on one of the iron benches around the central square, watching the witches dance in the moonlight. Ageless, immortal, and beautiful, the Majae circled in an energetic eighteenth-century reel, jeweled hands glittering as they clapped and stamped.
    The Desire stirred, hungry for a taste. He quieted it with a sip of donated blood from his goblet. It tasted of heat and magic, as different from mortal blood as aged bourbon is from tap water. Reece preferred to drink from a witch’s throat, but in lieu of that, the goblet would do.
    Swallowing another sizzling mouthful, he eyed the dancers, wondering if he’d be able to seduce one of them into going home with him for the night. It was a distinct possibility. Majae needed to give blood as desperately as vampires needed to drink it; otherwise they both suffered unpleasant health effects. He’d never been sure whether that erotic symbiosis was a very neat system or simply Merlin’s wicked joke at their expense.
    Perhaps a bit of both.
    â€œYou know,” Lancelot du Lac said in his ear, “I don’t remember that particular dance being so damned sexy.”
    â€œProbably because the dancers weren’t wearing miniskirts and tight leather pants at the time,” Reece retorted as his friend threw himself onto a nearby bench.
    â€œGod, I love progress.” Lance sighed.
    Reece grinned, noticing the way Lancelot’s hungry gaze tracked his new bride, Grace, as she sang and spun her way through the dance. “How’s married life, newlywed?”
    â€œAnything but boring. You should give it a try.”
    He snorted. “What right-thinking Maja would have me? If I’m not on a mission for the High Council, I’m hunting spies or terrorists for the Americans.”
    â€œHey, you were the one who agreed to be the Champion of the United States.”
    Arthur, himself Champion of Britain for the past sixteen hundred years, had asked him to work with the fledgling country’s government as the Magekind’s eyes, ears, and hands. Since then, Reece had fought Redcoats, Johnny Reb, Apaches, and Germans—twice—as well as communists and terrorists. He’d spied, lied, and killed, walking an uncomfortable tightrope between the needs of his country and the demands of Avalon. The two did not always coincide, particularly since he had to keep his allies in the CIA and the FBI in complete ignorance about the Magekind. As far as they were concerned, he was merely a lone vampire with a patriotic streak.
    â€œYeah, I agreed,” Reece said. “Two hundred and