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  “IT’S GOING TO BE OKAY,” LUCAN SAID.

  His voice was low and sexy, and every time his gaze met hers, her pulse kicked up another notch. “We’re going to be okay.”

  We? “You don’t know that,” she whispered.

  “I know that you’ll do your best and that’s all anyone can do.” His fingers slid sensuously over her arm.

  “But my best—”

  “Your best is passionate and strong. Your best is better than anyone else’s I know,” he insisted, the searing heat in his eyes melting her. Then his mouth closed over hers. She let out a soft gasp and parted her lips. While she knew friends didn’t kiss like this, she made herself stop thinking. She wasn’t going to think about anything painful, not when she could lose herself in his kiss.

  With an aching deep in her heart, Cael trailed her hands over his back, his neck, and into his thick hair. Goddess, she adored kissing this man who could be so tender and hot all at the same time.

  Kissing him was oh-so-much better than any dream she’d ever had. His kisses made her feel cherished, special, and most of all, for the first time in her life, desired…

  “Fast-paced and sexy otherworld adventure.”

  —LINNEA SINCLAIR, RITA award-winning author

  of Hope’s Folly

  PRAISE FOR SUSAN KEARNEY

  “Kearney is a master storyteller.”

  —New York Times bestselling author

  VIRGINIA HENLEY

  “[Kearney] combines sexy romance with spaceships, laser guns, psychic powers, and time travel.”

  —Tampa Tribune

  “Susan Kearney takes you on a wild ride, keeping you guessing until the very end.”

  —New York Times bestselling author

  KAREN ROSE on Kiss Me Deadly

  “Out-of-this-world love scenes, pulse-pounding action, and characters who come right off the page.”

  —USA Today bestselling author

  SUZANNE FORSTER on The Dare

  “Looking for something different? A futuristic romance

  … The Challenge gave me a new perspective… love and sex in the future!”

  —New York Times bestselling author

  CARLY PHILLIPS

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2009 by Hair Express Inc.

  Excerpt from Rion copyright © 2009 by Hair Express Inc.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Forever

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue

  New York, NY 10017

  Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.

  www.twitter.com/foreverromance

  Forever is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing.

  The Forever name and logo is a trademark of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  First eBook Edition: September 2009

  ISBN: 978-0-446-55820-4

  This one’s for Amy Pierpont, editor extraordinaire!!!!!

  Your insight’s amazing, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed

  working with you. You’ve not only made this book

  so much better, you’ve made me a better writer.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  There are so many people who work behind the scenes whom I’d like to thank for their efforts on my behalf. This is my first book for Grand Central Publishing, and I have yet to meet everyone, but I know that without editorial help, art, promotion, marketing, production, and sales, this book wouldn’t have made it to the shelves. This is such a team effort, and without everyone’s help, I wouldn’t be able to write the books I love. In particular, I’d like to thank Diane Luger and Christine Foltzer for my beautiful cover, Anna Maria Piluso for the book’s production, Giorgetta Bell McRee for book design, and the Grand Central Publishing department.

  I’d also like to thank Julie Leto, Charlotte Douglas, and Jeanie Legendre for their critiquing efforts. Thanks for making the book so much better.

  Contents

  Copyright

  “It’s Going to be Okay,” Lucan Said.

  Praise For Susan Kearney

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  A Preview of Rion

  Chapter 1

  A Preview of Jordan

  -1-

  The Dish

  The precious myths of our heritage are our way of understanding things greater than ourselves. They are tales of the inexplicable forces that shape our lives and of events that defy explanation. These legends are rooted in the spilling of our life blood, in the courage of brave hearts, in the resilience of humanity’s tenacious spirit.

  —ARTHUR PENDRAGON

  PROLOGUE

  In the near future

  Slow down, Marisa,” Lucan Roarke warned his twin.

  They were deep inside the cave he’d discovered in the Welsh countryside in the shadow of Cadbury Castle, and his helmet light had settled on a gaping crack in the compacted clay of the cavern’s floor. “Don’t step on that—”

  “What?” Marisa looked back at him just as the ground opened beneath her feet. Falling, she flailed her arms and clawed at the cave wall for a handhold, but the loose earth crumbled beneath her fingertips, and gravity dragged her down through the crevice into the darkness below.

  Lucan lunged to grab her, but the unstable earth lurched and dipped under him, throwing him off balance, and his fingers missed her by inches.

  “Marisa!” The sound of splashing water drowned out his cry.

  Lucan had brought his sister to Cadbury Castle for a vacation, and he’d been excited to show her this cave—his latest discovery in his quest for the Holy Grail. Although many dismissed the Grail as mythical, his years of exploration and research had convinced him the vessel actually existed.

  Lucan peered through the gloom into the chasm, but his helmet light couldn’t penetrate the blackness. Even worse, the earthen sides of the hole made a steep vertical descent. Reaching for the heavy-duty flashlight he carried in his back pocket, he yelled, “Marisa? Talk to me, damn it.”

  Nothing but silence answered him.

  Closing his eyes, Lucan inhaled deeply and concentrated on linking his mind with hers, a telepathic communication the two had shared since they were little.

  Marisa. Where are you?

  In the water. Help me. I’m cold.

  Heart racing, Lucan shined the flashlight into the darkness and spotted her head above the rushing water.

  “Lucan. Here.” Smart enough not to fight the powerful flow of water that tried to sweep her downstream, Marisa swam for the wall at an angle and clung to a rocky ledge.

  “Hang on.”

  She coughed and sputtered, then shot ba
ck, “If I let go, it won’t be on purpose. Hurry. It’s freezing.”

  Lucan reached for the rope in his backpack and cursed himself for bringing his sister into the bowels of the cave. He’d sweet-talked her into coming along, desperate to break her out of her funk. Since her latest miscarriage, she’d been fighting off depression. He’d hoped this excursion would take her mind off her loss, at least for a little while. He hadn’t intended to distract her by risking her life and scaring her to death.

  He uncoiled the rope, then leaned over the hole to see her lose her grip on the ledge. The current pulled her under. “Marisa!”

  A split second later, a pale hand broke through the water and clutched a rock jutting from the wall. Marisa pulled her head and shoulders above the torrent, spat water, and forced her words through shivering lips. “I knew… I should have gone… to Club Med.”

  He looped the rope around the biggest boulder within reach. Then he tossed the line down the narrow shaft. “Grab on and I’ll book the next flight to Cancún.”

  Marisa stretched for the rope. And missed. Water surged over her head. Again she swam to the surface, but the current had carried her too far downstream to reach the lifeline.

  With no other choice, Lucan jumped into the dark shaft. He fell about twelve feet before frigid water closed over his head and ripped away his glasses. His flesh went numb, but he managed to keep a grip on his waterproof flashlight. His lungs seized and his vision blurred. Forcing his shocked limbs to move, he kicked for the surface. And heard Marisa’s scream. Turning around, he swam in the direction where he’d last seen her.

  Already his teeth chattered. He struggled for breath, and his waterlogged clothing and boots weighed him down. The raging current swept him under, but his concern was for Marisa. She’d been in this icy water too long. Clenching his teeth, he kicked harder until he was finally close enough to grab Marisa’s shoulders. They had only minutes to find a way out before hypothermia set in.

  He pulled her close. “I’ve got you.”

  When she didn’t reply, fear poured through his system. Fighting to lift her head above the surface, he shined his light around the cave in search of a shoal or a shallow pool.

  Marisa lifted a quaking hand. “There.”

  Just ahead, the river forked. One side widened, the other narrowed.

  Using most of his remaining strength, he steered them toward the wider fork, praying it wouldn’t take them deeper underground. His prayers were answered when they rounded a bend and the water leveled out onto a dirt embankment.

  He pulled Marisa out of the river, and together they lay on the bank, panting, shivering, and exhausted. When she didn’t speak, he aimed the light on her. Her eyes were closed, her face pale, her lips blue. He wrung some of the water from her clothing, then rubbed her limbs with his own freezing hands.

  Her eyes fluttered open. “One word… about my hair, and I’ll s-smack you up side the head.”

  “You look good in mud.”

  She slapped at his shoulder but didn’t have the strength to land the blow.

  He smoothed her hair from her eyes. “Save your strength. I don’t want to have to carry you.” She needed to walk to keep the hypothermia at bay.

  “W-wuss.” She crawled up the bank until her back rested against a dirt wall.

  Lucan focused on survival. “We’ve got to get moving or we’ll freeze.”

  “You wrung the water from my clothes. What about you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Of course you’re fine. J-just like when y-you were in Namibia and that black mamba bit you?”

  “I lived.”

  “Barely.” Marisa took his hand and tried to stand, but her knees buckled. She grabbed the wall behind her for support and it began to collapse on top of them.

  Lucan lunged and threw his body over hers, shut his eyes, and prayed they wouldn’t be buried alive. Clumps of cold mud cascaded over them and bounced aside.

  “You okay?” Lucan asked.

  “Oh, now I’m really having f-fun.” Marisa spat dirt. “So glad you s-suggested”—her teeth chattered uncontrollably—“th-this little vacation.”

  Lucan shoved to his feet. “Think what a great adventure story you’ll have to write.”

  “I don’t want to be the story.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “But you love this shit. You’re probably getting off on—”

  Wow. Her telepathic thought interrupted her words midsentence. And her amazement came through in waves—surprising waves that peaked with astonishment.

  “What?” He spun around to see exactly what had shocked her, and he froze. He focused his flashlight on the unearthed urn, hardly believing his eyes or his luck. The intricate design made dating the piece easy. “It’s Tintagel ware.”

  “Tinta-who?”

  “Tintagel ware is an ancient indigenous pottery. Fifth or sixth century. More evidence that Cadbury Castle really was King Arthur’s home base.”

  They both jumped aside as another slice of wall and more pottery crashed down, revealing a hidden room. At the sound of breaking terra-cotta, Lucan winced. An ancient scroll poked from the shards, and he dashed to pull the paper from the muddy earth before the dampness reached it.

  Old and fragile, the antiquity had survived in amazing condition. He balanced the flashlight between his shoulder and chin, unfurled his find, and squinted, wishing for his lost glasses.

  Marisa peered over his arm, her reporter’s curiosity evident. “What is it?”

  Lucan stared, his pulse racing in excitement. The astrological map revealed the Sun, the Earth, planets. And many stars. But what had his heart battering his ribs was the line drawn from Earth to a star far across the galaxy. He was looking at an ancient map of the heavens. His mouth went dry. “This is a star map.”

  “Why do you sound so surprised? Even the most ancient cultures were into astrology.”

  “Astronomy,” he corrected automatically. “I’m no astronomer, but this looks… far too accurate for its time. King Arthur, remember. The Age of Chivalry.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Lost in thought, he ignored her sarcasm. “This map has details the Hubble telescope might not pick up, yet it’s thousands of years old. It’s unbelievable.”

  “So it’s a fake?”

  “I’ll have to perform tests…” He squinted at the map. His gaze moved on to the distant stars and their planets. “Hell.”

  “What now?”

  He pointed to the map. “This moon is named Pendragon.”

  “Wasn’t that King Arthur’s last name?”

  He nodded and squinted. “And written right under Pendragon is the word Avalon.”

  “Avalon? Is that significant?”

  “Avalon was a legendary isle ruled by a Druid priestess called the Lady of the Lake,” he answered. “She helped put Arthur on the throne. And according to the stories, Avalon was also where King Arthur left the Holy Grail.”

  “The Holy Grail?” Disbelief filled her voice.

  “The powers of the cup are legendary. If the myths are true, the cup might cure physical ills—cancer, heart attacks, and…” He hesitated before breathing out the word. “Sterility.”

  Though neither his sister nor her husband was officially sterile, like most of Earth’s population, they couldn’t have children. Her recent miscarriage had been her second in as many years. If the cup truly existed and he could find it, his sister—and hundreds of thousands of others—could finally carry a child to term.

  “Throughout the ages,” he continued, “many men, including Arthur’s own Knights of the Round Table, have searched for Avalon and the Holy Grail. Legendary stories of the Grail’s healing properties exist in many cultures, yet no one has found it.” He pointed to the small moon on the ancient map. “Maybe that’s because Avalon wasn’t on Earth.”

  “You’ve lost your mind.” She sighed, but the catch in her voice exposed her wishful thinking that after all this time despairing, she might be able to hop
e again.

  “A search for the Holy Grail might be the most exciting thing I’ll ever do.”

  “It might also be the last thing you ever do. Didn’t you learn your lesson when you went in search of Preah Vihear antiquities?”

  “The golden statue of the dancing Shiva I found in the Khmer temple was worth—”

  “Ending up in a Cambodian jail?”

  “Just a little misunderstanding. We got it squared away.”

  She cursed under her breath. “You sure you don’t have a death wish? Or are you just an adrenaline junkie?”

  She was fussing only because she loved him, so he ignored her rhetorical questions. Besides, he wasn’t the only twin who took calculated risks. As a reporter for the St. Petersburg Times, Marisa had placed herself in danger often. They were some pair. She wanted to report the present to change the future. Until now, he’d believed humanity was headed for extinction, and he had studied the past because the future looked bleak. But if he could find the Grail, the past just might offer hope.

  Marisa sighed. “We need to dig out of here.”

  He carefully rolled up the parchment and placed it in the dry sample bag he’d pulled from his backpack. Then he shined the light on the broken pottery. Kneeling, he began gathering as many shards as he could carry.

  He reached for a particularly large piece, covered in an array of signs and symbols, when he spied daylight glimmering through a tiny opening on the far wall of the hidden room. A way out. “Time to go.”

  “Now you’re in a hurry?”

  “Don’t you want to find out if this map’s authentic?”

  She sighed. “I’m more interested in warm, dry clothes.”

  “Do you realize what we may have found?”

  “We? Just you, my brother. Avalon? The Holy Grail? A cure for cancer? The idea is more than crazy. It’s nonsense. But knowing you, you’ll find a way to follow that map to Avalon.”

  “If the star map pans out, you’ll want first dibs on the story—don’t deny it.”

  “You’re a restless, adventure-seeking fool. That stupid map is going to take you straight to outer space.”

  He could only hope.