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  “Oh my gawd, are you serious?” Lacy said, fanning herself and leaning against the closed door. “Where did you find those men?”

  “Avalon,” Aliana said, wanting to see how her friend would react.

  The blonde rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Lia!”

  “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you the truth, Lace.” Aliana dropped her purse onto the counter, pulling out her swirly, purple mask.

  “Either way, you are so lucky! Did you even notice the way Arthur and Galahad were staring at you?”

  Aliana’s brow furrowed as she tied on the swirling mask, not wanting to admit out loud that she had noticed.

  “Seriously, Lia, you need to open your eyes. They looked like…” Her friend searched for the right word. “Like they were enchanted with you.”

  Aliana shook her head in denial. “It’s not like that, Lace. I’m helping them with a problem.” Understatement of the night. “They just need my help, nothing else.” But oh how she wished her friend were right.

  “Lia, I swear sometimes it’s unbelievable how blind you can be.” Her friend sighed as she tied on her own silvery pink mask.

  They returned to the guys, who cut off their hushed conversation as the girls walked up to them. Aliana wished she had her camera. All of the guys together in tuxes and masks would make a flutter-in-your-stomach, can’t-stop-staring-because-you’re-so-hot, amazing shot. With one glance at her friend, Aliana knew Lacy was thinking the exact same thing. They seemed almost too good to be true.

  Another of the event planners approached, drawing Lacy’s attention. “Why don’t y’all head into the exhibit room. I have to go check on a few things.” She disappeared in a flutter of pink, and Aliana led the way through the French doors into the main room.

  Rich, glittering balls of stained glass hung from the chandeliers. Rails of colored spotlights ran across the ceiling, shining brightly on the collection of artwork. Everything from the lighting to the soft music and exotic flowers made Aliana feel like she was walking through a fairy-tale gallery fit for a queen.

  She stopped to admire a life-size bronze statue of a man sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest. The statue’s eyes seemed to be staring at a nearby painting of a brightly-colored Paris street café.

  “This is beautiful, Aliana,” Arthur said into her ear. He was the only one of the guys who hadn’t left her side. Owen and Percy had wandered across the room and were chatting with two women. Lancelot and Galahad had stopped to examine a different painting near one of the fake columns.

  “Lacy’s company really outdid itself.” She couldn’t wait to tell her friend what an amazing job she had done.

  “You said you had some work on display, Aliana,” Lancelot said as he and Galahad joined her and the king.

  “Yeah, they should be over by the stone lovers.” She pointed to a small jade sculpture of a man and woman entwined on a bed of stone pillows.

  Eager to see her work, they made their way over. Her photographic series was called Myths, all inspired by different stories she had heard growing up. All the photos were framed in glass, the edges filled with large bubbles to give the illusion of a cloud. Aliana’s eyes widened when she saw a small “sold” sticker attached to four of her six photos.

  “These are wonderful,” Lancelot said, unmistakably surprised.

  The first was the final battle between Zeus and Cronus. The second was a take on Beauty and the Beast with a handsome man covered not in fur but black and green dragon scales, holding a woman in a pale pink dress tightly to him. The third was a photo of Robin Hood aiming a bow. The fourth was a girl in Ancient Greece opening a small box that spilled golden light into the moonlit world.

  The fifth was a photo of a sandy-blond-haired warrior dressed only in a pair of black hakama pants. He stood balanced on a small rock in the center of a turbulent river with a majestic waterfall framing him from behind. The warrior held a katana by his head, ready to strike at an unseen opponent. The serenity of the surrounding forest stood at odds with the fierce warrior.

  The last photo was of a young girl dancing under water, a flowing train of colored scarves swirling around her like a mermaid’s tail. Behind her were the eerie, glowing eyes and gaping mouth of a great white shark.

  “It’s like you can feel what each of these people feel. Each one tells its own, unique story,” Arthur said, praising her.

  “Thank you,” Aliana said, unable to hide her blush from her king. Galahad whispered something to Lancelot as they studied the warrior photo. Galahad suddenly looked up like he could feel her watching him. He sent her a rakish smile as Lancelot walked away, leaving just the three of them.

  “Who is the warrior in your photo?” Galahad asked as Arthur studied the picture again.

  “That’s my friend Wade, Lacy’s brother,” she said, beaming. “He’s a crazy amazing martial artist.”

  Arthur turned back to her and asked, “Is this the friend you mentioned before we came to London? Will he be here tonight?”

  Aliana grinned. “He’s already here somewhere. He’s working on some secret project for tonight.”

  Galahad and Arthur smiled.

  “Your art is beautiful,” Galahad said softly to her. “I understand now what you meant before and why you are so passionate about it. I particularly like the Mergirl.”

  “That one was really fun to do,” Aliana said. “But it took me six nights at sea to get the right picture of the shark.” She explained the photo process, and both men looked horrified as she told them about diving with the creatures in a steel cage at night. Avoiding a lecture, she pulled Arthur and Galahad to a life-size statue of a dancing girl.

  “She looks so real,” Arthur said, his arm brushing against Aliana’s.

  As her gaze wandered the room, Aliana spotted a man in a black jacket and bronze shirt watching them from behind a black and red phantom-style mask. She frowned as his familiarity pulled at her, filling her with an almost overwhelming need to go speak to him. She eyed the guys, but neither of them seemed to have noticed the man watching them. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, the lights flickered and went out. Just as quickly, spotlights came on over each of the six life-size statues that were spread out among the displays.

  Aliana studied the statue in front of her, momentarily forgetting about the strange guy. She and the entire crowd gasped as the eyes of the statues snapped open, coming to life with a loud breath as sensual, electronica music spilled out of hidden speakers. Their bodies animated with the electronic beat as they all leaped from perches, dancing their way through the crowd. The six dancers all had different styles, but every move they made seemed to blend together like they were dancing as one. When one did a high kick, the others followed.

  The lights flickered again and black lights came on, illuminating a new set of men and women dressed in white and black jester’s costumes. These new dancers glowed in the purple-white light. The music changed to a slightly faster track with violins and drums joining the electronic beat. The joker dancers joined with the stone dancers as they made their way around the room, some brushing against the patrons. They came together as one, and like pied pipers, led the entire audience in an enchantingly beautiful dance through the main room and out onto the large, open roof deck. A stage was lit with electronic candles and soft, yellow spotlights. Aliana barely noticed all the guys surrounding her as she made her way to the edge of the dance floor in front of the stage, completely taken with the dancers as they all came together in a beautiful and ethereal choreographed routine.

  The dancers glided together across the dance floor, pairing up and then dancing solo as bodies rolled off one another or twisted together in a play of hands and legs. The lights cast shadows over their moving bodies as they leaped, flipped, and kicked their way over the stage in a beautiful and strange dance of the night.

  15

  I was not sure I would sleep last night, but I did, and I dreamed of Aliana by my side in Camelot. But my
ghost woman was also there. She seemed to almost blend with Aliana at times. Everything has changed so much, and the struggles of my men as they either try to adapt to this new world or cope with the loss of their memories worries me. I long for Camelot—a world I understand and belong to. These clothes, this party...the dancing, it is all so unusual, yet strangely beautiful. But it is nothing compared to Aliana’s wonder-struck smile. She looks so jubilant. I can plainly see that there is something between her and Galahad, but there is a bond between the two of us as well. I am determined to win her. But I must to go slowly and gain her trust first.

  ~Arthur

  A GUY NOT MUCH OLDER than Aliana broke through the middle of the pack. Dressed in nothing but a white vest, gray slacks, and a fedora, he led the dancers in the final minutes of the performance. Aliana laughed as Wade danced his way toward her with Rat-Pack, Frank-Sinatra-smooth moves. He had a cool, bad boy swagger to him and a confidence that never failed to impress.

  The music ended and the dancers struck their final poses. Thunderous applause rang out from the crowd as the lights came up. Wade bowed with the other dancers before they made a quick exit. Instead of following, Wade made his way to the edge of the dance floor, stopping in front of Aliana for a quick moment to drop his fedora onto her head before disappearing.

  “That was Wade, was it not?” Arthur asked.

  “Yeah. He’s a big goofball. One of his many charms.”

  “I think he may also be Sir Gawain,” Galahad said, his face drawn tight.

  “What?” Aliana asked, looking at Lancelot and Arthur. Both men nodded. “But how could Wade be one of you?” Aliana removed the hat. “I’ve known him my whole life!”

  “We—” Arthur was cut short by applause as a plump, balding man stepped onto the raised platform next to the DJ booth.

  “Good evening and thank you all for coming to the Fagan Foundation’s tenth annual Gala of the Arts,” the man said in a wispy, aging voice.

  “Oh boy,” Aliana said, taking a step behind Galahad, hoping the man on stage wouldn’t see her. “That’s Mister Myers, the chairman of the board. He’s a total bore and a weasel.”

  “You don’t like him, then,” Lancelot said as the boring man prattled on.

  “You could say I’m not his biggest fan, and he’s definitely not mine.”

  “Do you want to return to the gallery?” Galahad asked, but before Aliana could take a step away, the man on stage called her name.

  “We are delighted to have the lovely Aliana Fagan back with us after a two-year absence. Aliana, dear, why don’t you come up and say a few words.”

  Speaking in public, especially to a crowd as large as this one, terrified her, and Mr. Myers knew it. Aliana hated that her hands were already starting to shake. The crowd applauded, welcoming her as she crossed the large dance floor to the stage. As she reached the steps, Wade appeared on the stage, now wearing a powder blue horned mask. Before Weasel Man knew what was happening, Wade snatched the microphone from his hand and crossed over to Aliana.

  “Sorry to interrupt folks, but we all know that Carrie Fagan preferred dancing to speeches.” The crowd chuckled as he breezed down the stairs, stopping in front of Aliana, his hand held out to her.

  “How about it, Lia? Wanna show ’em how it’s done?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows above his trademark devilish smile.

  Relieved, Aliana took his hand. The two of them had been dancing together since they were eight. Their favorite style had always been a mash up of Latin and ballroom dancing styles. Aliana loved that she was comfortable enough with Wade to do such blatantly sensual moves with him in public without getting embarrassed. Because of their natural chemistry and passion, they’d often been mistaken for a couple, but they’d never been anything more than friends.

  The crowd cheered as the couple took center stage. Wade signaled to the DJ with a twirl of his finger, and Aliana giggled, recognizing the pit-bull mix Wade had made a few months ago. They had put this dance together shortly after Aliana’s last boyfriend had broken up with her because she wasn’t “sexy enough.” When Wade had heard that, he said they’d show the prick just how wrong he was. So they’d put together the sexiest routine they could think of and showed it off at their favorite club in Charleston during the jerk’s birthday. The look on the ass’s face had been priceless.

  “You remember the steps, right, Lia?” Wade asked, twirling her around and pulling her tight to his body.

  “Of course. I can’t let my hero down,” Aliana said in a seductive voice, wrapping her arm around his neck and staring into his laughing, hazel eyes.

  They swayed their hips to the slow beat as they moved in small circles, stepping between each other’s legs. Wade’s big hand slid up her side to her shoulder, and Aliana arched backward, gliding in a half circle before Wade pulled her back up just as the beat hit full speed. Aliana shook her hips as their feet moved lightning quick in a cha-cha step that would make Mary Murphy proud.

  Wade’s fingers twisted with hers as she pivoted out and back, out and back in a series of turns to match the electric beat. With her back to him, Wade took her hands, leading her in a set of lock steps, him going right when she went left. He pulled her against him, splaying one hand at her throat as the other pulled her arm around his neck. With a saucy glance over her shoulder, Aliana knocked Wade to one knee with a bump of her hip. Winking, she dance-stepped and kicked her way across the stage.

  Wade was back on his feet and spun her again, pulling her back tightly to his front, one hand wrapped high around her torso, the other holding her hand out to the side. They circled their upper bodies together in an intimate Samba roll. She faced him again and locked a leg around his waist as he lifted her up, and they twirled across the stage, Aliana’s skirt flaring like a cape of glittering purple. Her feet hit the ground and Wade spun her several times. The beat changed, and they rolled their bodies against one another from chest to hip, his hand in hers. He took her waist, lifting her high and then letting her drop, catching her thigh and dipping her low on the final beat of the song. With her arm around his neck and the other tracing lightly over his high cheekbone, it could easily look like she was inviting him in for a kiss.

  They both started laughing, barely able to breathe. Wade set Aliana back on her feet, taking her hand, and turned to face the audience. They took their bows as the audience clapped. Even Arthur and Galahad, who appeared to be a bit in shock, cheered for them. Aliana paused, her endorphin rush ebbing. She was going to have to talk to Wade about the knights and everything that had happened the last two days. Can he really be one of them?

  “I think our little show had a similar effect as last time,” Wade said, pulling her out of her mini freak-out. He nodded toward Arthur and Galahad. “Your fairy-tale friends look like they want to beat me.” Apparently his sister had filled him in on her new friends.

  She glanced at the guys as she wound an arm around Wade. Galahad’s eyes flicked to hers, and she realized he’d been staring at Wade. A peek at Arthur told the same story.

  “Oh boy…” Aliana whispered to Wade as he kissed her on the forehead, laughing. “And what exactly did your sister tell you?”

  Wade just winked, his devilish grin back. They joined the others away from the stage while people filled the dance floor.

  “I wasn’t expecting that from you, Aliana,” Lancelot said.

  “Thanks?” she responded, not sure it was a compliment.

  Owen snatched her up into a bear hug. “You were spectacular! I knew you could dance, but that was smashing!” Owen turned to Wade. “And you didn’t do too bad either.” Everyone laughed except Arthur and Galahad.

  “Big brother, Lia, you two were so hot out there!” Lacy said, pushing her way in between them to hug Wade and then Aliana.

  “Lacy, you and Wade have done so much more tonight than I could have ever imagined. Mom and Dad would have loved it!” Aliana hugged Lacy tighter, and her misty eyes met Wade’s. “Thank you,” she whispered. G
awd she had missed her best friends, her rocks, these last couple of days!

  With a whispered “I’ll catch up with you later” and a long glance at Percy, Lacy turned to leave. As soon as she disappeared into the crowd, Aliana pulled Wade and the others over to a deserted corner of the roof.

  “Lia, what’s going on?” Wade asked.

  Gazing between him and the knights, a realization hit her, a feeling of rightness and certainty. Even while her friend sized up the others, he looked like he fit, like he was a part of the knights. He’d certainly always been as protective of her as they were. Now all she needed to do was find a way to convince him that he was one of them. “Wade, there’s something I gotta tell you. It’s going to sound crazy, but I need you to hear me—” Aliana sighed “—us out.”

  Wade’s nervous gaze flicked from her to the guys. “Who are these guys really?”

  “I don’t know how to say this so I’m gonna just say it. Wade, meet King Arthur, Galahad, Lancelot and Percy. They’re the Knights of the Round Table. Apparently they think you are one of them too—reborn like Owen and Percy.”

  Wade’s brow shot up before he broke into a roaring laugh. “That’s a good one, Lia!” He regarded her and the guys, sobering when he saw that none of them were laughing, not even Owen.

  “What she says is true,” Lancelot said, holding out a hand to her slack-jawed friend.

  “Bullshit,” Wade said, staring at Lancelot’s hand like it was from outer space.

  “Not bullshit.” Dagg unwrapped himself from Aliana’s wrist, returning to his normal size.

  “Dagg!” Aliana hissed, grabbing the dumb Dragon and looking around to see if any of the other guests had caught sight of the mythical creature.

  “What is that?” Wade asked, going pale.

  “I am Daggerhorne, guardian to the Destined One—Aliana. What she has told you is the truth.”