Lucan: The Pendragon Legacy Read online

Like an idiot, he’d left the star map in plain sight. Had she seen enough to recognize the parchment hadn’t originated on this moon?

  Forcing his mind out of a tailspin, Lucan leaned over his desk and deliberately knocked over his mug of tea. Then he whisked the damning star map into a drawer while the dark, hot liquid oozed into papers of much lesser value.

  Lucan forced a smile at Cael, as if he welcomed her interruption. “You have secrets?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” She strode across the lab, her steps graceful, her bearing regal. “Maybe I can help.” Cael spoke with casual confidence, and Lucan couldn’t pull his gaze from her. The light danced in her eyes in a way that mesmerized him. He saw not only intelligence, but a vibrancy, a mystery. “Or do you prefer to work alone?”

  He shrugged and wiped at the mess on his desk. Lucan wasn’t a loner by nature but by necessity. The less he shared with his coworkers, the less chance he had of slipping up, blowing his cover story and fake résumé, and revealing his true identity. And if these Dragonians figured out he wasn’t one of them, they’d make sure he never got within a thousand yards of Avalon. They wanted the Grail as badly as he did. For Cael and Pen-dragon, finding the Grail would be a boon that would eliminate disease and suffering and the need for hospitals, medical research, and drugs.

  “Right now I need to decipher these glyphs,” he said.

  She glanced at the symbols. “You think they’re the key to breaking through the shield?”

  The Dragonians had been trying for centuries to bring down Avalon’s outer protective shield so they could search inside for the Grail. Modern technology, bulldozers, acids, and blasting had failed to win them access.

  Lucan threaded his fingers through his hair. “If I could translate the glyphs, I could answer your question.”

  He poured more caffeine-laced tea and offered her a mug.

  “No, thanks.” She eyed the almost empty pot, and her hair brushed her shoulders. With the two of them alone in the lab it was impossible not to recall her hair in his hands, or her fresh-rain scent, and his pulse raced as she raised her eyes to his. “You think going without sleep will help?”

  He sipped the tea, and over the brim of his cup he read concern in her eyes. And female curiosity that he couldn’t afford to encourage.

  He was so aware of her, it was almost as if pulling her out of that vent had ignited something between them. “I can’t waste time sleeping, not when that subsurface cavity might open up and swallow Avalon tomorrow.”

  Last summer’s drought had created a massive water shortage. The Dragonians had pumped water from the subterranean aquifer into their cities until they’d emptied the underground reservoirs, leaving a vast sinkhole beneath Avalon, one that grew larger and more likely to collapse the ground above it by the day.

  “The latest estimates say we have weeks, maybe months.” She hesitated as if she didn’t want to say more but then continued, “But even if the ground holds,n O General Brennon’s newest satellite data show that the expanding sinkhole has weakened the area so much that it may be dangerous to bring down the shields.”

  “How dangerous?”

  “The shields are reinforcing Avalon’s stability. If the ancient walls collapse, the adjoining part of the city might fall into the cavity.”

  Lucan’s eyes narrowed. “So what’s he want us to do? Give up?”

  “We won’t.” Her curious gaze settled on his desk and the copy of the runes. Her eyes, a startling mix of old soul and pure innocence, drew him in. “Are you any closer to an answer?”

  He set his cup aside and chose his words carefully. If he gave Cael a reason to report anything suspicious, Sir Quentin, Avalon’s chief archeologist and head of the government’s Division of Lost Artifacts, would take her seriously.

  “I’m no closer to translating the glyphs than when we uncovered them yesterday afternoon.”

  Despite years of study in ancient runes and hieroglyphics, he hadn’t been able to make any sense of the connection between his map and ancient Avalon.

  “You might want to give yourself more than a day to solve one of our moon’s ancient puzzles.” With an encouraging raise of her brow, she moved aside several of his books, and together they finished mopping up the spilled tea. When their hands accidentally touched, his flesh tingled in response. Her violet gaze jerked toward his in surprise. “You’re driving yourself too hard.”

  That was so not his problem. The only thing too hard around here, suddenly, was his dick.

  Damn it. Not now. He needed to play this cool. He bristled, then tried to hide his reaction. But a telltale flicker in her eyes told him she’d noted his irritation.

  The lady was perceptive. Too perceptive? He raked back his hair to give him time to cool his jets. The last thing he needed was her ordering him to come in for a checkup. “I’m sure I look like hell. But a shower and a shave should—”

  Cael placed her hand on his shoulder. “Relax.” What was she up to? She seemed to be deliberately touching him now, and it occurred to him that she was scanning him with her empathic ability.

  He prayed to God she couldn’t read his mind, then forced himself to relax. She read feelings, not thoughts. For now, his real identity was still safe. And if she was picking up any of his lusty yearnings, she was pretending otherwise.

  Cael knelt, scooped the rest of his books from the floor, and placed them back on his desk. “I won’t send you to the medical bay—”

  “Thanks.”

  “If you promise to sleep for a few hours—”

  “Agreed.”

  “In your bed. Not at your desk.” She smiled, perhaps to take the sting out of her words.

  He cocked his n yourberhead to one side and shot her his most charming grin. “You want to come tuck me in?”

  Damn it. He’d been keeping the conversation on a professional level, and then he’d blown it again. He kept forgetting Cael was not just a colleague. No Dragonian he knew would venture such an innuendo with the High Priestess, even in jest. But then, he doubted any other man had shared an air duct with her, either.

  When she placed her hands on her hips and frowned, he thought she was offended. Then the corner of her mouth quirked to form a saucy grin. “Will that be necessary? My tucking you in?”

  Necessary? No. Pleasurable? Oh, yeah. He envisioned her leaning over him, her eyes widening as he tugged her into his arms for a kiss.

  Stop. He had to stop fantasizing. Stop looking at her.

  He cast his eyes down to his desk. “Maybe if I hit the sack, the answer will come to me in my dreams.” Fat chance. He was going to toss and turn. And think about her.

  “I’m glad you’re optimistic. It’s terrible to think these glyphs might be our last chance…”

  She looked worried, and not asking what was on her mind took all his willpower.

  He cleared his throat and put the remaining items on his desk to rights, willing her to step away so the rainy scent of her hair didn’t flood his lungs, so the light in her eyes didn’t dazzle, so her lips weren’t close enough to tempt him.

  Too much was at stake to think about anything but his mission. He must have been more tired than he’d realized. But exhaustion was no excuse. What the hell was wrong with him? And what was wrong with her? He might have admired her long, long legs and flowing blond mane since he’d arrived at the lab, but she’d never shown him more than a passing glance.

  When she spoke, Cael’s voice was low and silvery, threaded with sorrow. “You know, finding the Grail means… everything… to me, too.”

  Looking away, perhaps deliberately avoiding his gaze, she fingered her necklace beneath her tunic’s collar. “My nephew… is sick. He’s”—her voice broke—“only five.”

  The hint of desperation in her voice revealed a deep, black agony. One he knew all too well. “You can’t heal him?”

  She shook her head, her fingers rubbing the necklace. “I shouldn’t have said anything. The last thing you need is more pressure. I�
�m sorry.”

  Lucan nodded in understanding. “My sister’s unable to have a child. All her life she’s wanted to be a mother, and her dream was ripped away. I’d hoped the Grail…”

  Marisa’s doctors had eventually declared her barren after the last miscarriage, and watching her be torn apart by grief was almost more than Lucan could handle. More and more people on Earth were being given the same diagnosis. Infertility was reaching epidemic proportions. Without a miracle, people on Earth faced extinction.

  That’s why the Vesta Corporation had funded his mission. That’szthe Grai P why Lucan had crossed a galaxy to achieve his goal. Always in secret. Always alone. Always hiding his real past from everyone around him.

  Cael touched Lucan’s arm, infusing him with an awareness he was certain could be his undoing. “Then you understand,” she whispered.

  Reluctantly he pulled away from her touch. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  Legends are born when life soars into the heavens or falls to the earth.

  —MERLIN

  2

  After only a couple of hours of fitful sleep, Lucan was back at his desk in the lab, staring at the glyphs, praying for a breakthrough, and trying without success to ignore Cael, who worked several desks away. Only a few other members of the Avalon Project team manned their stations at this early hour.

  “We’ve accomplished nothing!” Sir Quentin, the team’s head archeologist, burst through the door and headed toward Sir Shaw’s desk at the front of the lab.

  “That’s not true,” Sir Shaw countered. An esteemed professor who was currently on sabbatical, Shaw was lending his expertise to the Avalon Project as the fieldwork supervisor.

  Lucan couldn’t recall the last time the two leaders had agreed on anything. Perhaps Sir Shaw believed the unverified reports that the Division of Lost Artifacts was a secret arm of the military under direct control of Sir Quentin and General Brennon. Perhaps it was simply a difference in basic scientific theory. Either way, the hypothesis that arguments spurred new ideas wasn’t working at Avalon. Lucan couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take for them to come to blows. If events led to a brawl, he’d bet on Shaw. Although older, shorter, and heavier, his passion came from the heart, whereas Quentin was a by-the-numbers kind of guy.

  Glancing across the lab at Cael, Lucan checked her reaction. To her credit, she did a damn fine job of hiding her annoyance, but the slight narrowing of her eyes and tightening of her mouth gave her away. Apparently, she, too, preferred to work in peace.

  Other scientists had begun to file into the lab and head to their work stations. Men and women alike tripped over themselves to stay out of Cael’s way, and he spotted a flicker in her eyes. Irritation? Pain?

  Sir Quentin brandished his clipboard. “I have nothing to report to my superiors.”

  “You’re worried about the government response, or General Brennon and his Lost Artifacts Division?”

  Never before had Lucan heard Shaw openly accuse the other scientist of a secret military connection. For a moment, even Cael looked shocked before she quickly masked her expression.

  Quentin waved his clipboard in Shaw’s face. “How dare you question my loyalty?”

  < c+o}/div> Shaw slapped the clipboard away and its papers fluttered to the floor. “We’ve made progress of sorts. We’ve learned what doesn’t work.”

  Lucan’s gaze returned to Cael. She’d stooped to pick up the scattered forms. The task might have been beneath her, but she moved with such an effortless grace that Shaw and Quentin didn’t notice her.

  Lucan found himself holding his breath, sensing that Cael appeared to be waiting for the right moment to intervene. Despite himself, Lucan edged closer. If Shaw and Quentin came to blows and she stepped into the fray, she was the one who’d need protection.

  Quentin slammed his fist onto the nearest lab table. “With the sinkhole expanding, it’s time to take more drastic measures.”

  “Not yet.” Shaw shook his head. “The shield’s technology alone is priceless. If you rush, you risk destroying it. And if the military’s Division of Lost Artifacts takes over, they’ll get inside first.”

  “The military has no intention—”

  “Don’t kid yourself. They want the Grail as much as the government does,” Shaw insisted. “But scientists need to control the contents.”

  “We all need the technology and the profits it can produce.”

  Cael set the papers on the lab table and placed herself between the arguing men.

  “This isn’t about profit,” Shaw raged. “Whatever we find inside Avalon is our heritage. These gifts from the past must not be sold, but should be given to everyone to share.” Shaw took a breath and visibly tried to calm himself. “If we can duplicate the shield and use it to protect our buildings from pollution, we could improve productivity. Maybe create domes over our cities, so we can once again breathe clean air.”

  Quentin’s voice turned icy. His meaty hands closed into fists. “You’re dreaming. Naive. Foolish.”

  Lucan tensed. He used every measure of control to stop himself from interfering.

  “I’m in charge of the dig,” Shaw insisted. “I’ll decide—”

  “Sirs,” Cael interrupted without raising her voice, but immediately the air stilled, and as she spoke, her words seemed to drain the tension from the lab. “I suggest we table this discussion for another time. We have yet to figure out how to get inside Avalon. Please, everyone, take your seats.”

  She was simply amazing. They all listened and obeyed. Shaw looked a bit sheepish. Quentin’s eyes flared with fire he was too angry to hide. The rest of the team settled in seats behind their desks and computer banks. Again Lucan saw tinges of fear in the team’s faces, as they waited to see what Cael would do next.

  Shaw faced his team. “Our situation has become critical. We have only one week until we must turn over the facility to General Brennon and his Lost Artifacts Division.” He glared at Quentin. “I also have no wish to see the military take over. Soldiers have no respect for scientific research or preserving artifacts. I can’t imagine what the politicians were thinki U [ height=ng, turning over Avalon to the military’s control.”

  Lucan wondered if Quentin and Cael would stay to help the military. With tensions high over the Grail’s potential powers and who would control them, the Dragonians had excavated Avalon in a series of stops and starts for centuries, barely avoiding a civil war in the process.

  “Perhaps you can negotiate more time for us?” Shaw asked Cael.

  She shook her head, her hair swirling around her shoulders, her voice musical but firm. “Satellite data support Brennon’s claim that the underground cavity is growing. Time is running out.”

  Shaw grimaced. “Then I suppose we shall have to move on, as Sir Quentin suggested, to more drastic measures.”

  Finally. At last some action.

  Lucan looked across the room at Rion, an astrophysicist with a reputation for innovation and a man whom he would have liked to call friend. Rion had seemed certain their latest efforts were about to pay off, and he had an uncanny reputation for knowing how matters would turn out. Some chalked up his ability to luck, others to clairvoyance. Rion himself was mum on the subject. The two men exchanged a look, and Lucan nodded.

  Rion cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. “We could attack the shield with a high-level laser burst.”

  Although laser technology was common on Earth, on Pendragon the device was still theoretical.

  “Did you computer-model it?” Shaw asked, immediately interested.

  Rion cast a glance at Lucan. “Actually, the prototype was finished yesterday. Seems our linguistics expert has a wicked talent with cutting-edge technology.”

  Lucan opened his desk drawer to retrieve the prototype, placed the device on a work counter, and set the control. By building the laser, he’d taken a risk of blowing his cover, but only a small one. Language experts weren’t expected to have the knowledge to buil
d a highly sophisticated laser, but Lucan’s fake résumé claimed that his Dragonian father owned a robotics plant, and Lucan dabbled at inventions.

  While the other team members surrounded him, ohhing and ahhing at the laser, Rion and Cael spoke quietly. Lucan found it interesting that Rion didn’t seem to fear Cael as the others did. Taller than Cael by a foot, Rion had to bend down for them to put their heads together. Her blond hair contrasted against Rion’s darkness, reminding Lucan of when he’d freed her from the vent. How soft she’d felt against his hardness.

  “The beam’s stable?” Shaw asked, leaning over the device.

  Lucan moved a rolling display board to reveal a gaping hole in the lab’s wall. “I tested it last night.”