Ignoring the gargoyle who was circling the cell, his eyes closed as he used his senses to detect any lingering spells. Anna moved to stare down at the fairy.
“She looks so peaceful,” she breathed. “Almost like she’s sleeping.”
Cezar moved to her side with a faint grimace. “I can’t detect magic, but I do know the scent of death.”
“Oui, she’s dead,” Levet offered.
“The question is how?” Cezar growled.
Levet opened his eyes, a faintly puzzled expression on his ugly face. “I smell…pomegranates.”
“Pomegranates?” Anna lifted her head, her face pale and her eyes dark with a strange, powerful emotion. “Sybil always smelled of apples.”
Levet’s wings gave a small flutter. “Fey magic. I don’t know how, but whoever did this was very powerful.”
“It was the woman from my dream,” Anna said slowly, licking her dry lips. “I smelled pomegranates when she looked at me.”
“What dream?” Styx demanded from the doorway.
There was a short, tense silence as every eye turned toward Anna. Cezar paused, inwardly cursing. This was not how he wanted to tell Anna what he suspected.
“It was a dream of Morgana,” Cezar at last said, his tone flat and his gaze on Anna’s fragile features.
“Morgana le Fay?” Styx demanded.
Cezar gave a reluctant nod as Anna’s eyes widened and her mouth parted in shock.
“Morgana-freaking-le-Fay?” she demanded, her voice edged with growing panic. “The sister of King Arthur? Knights? Dragons? Round tables?” She gave a wild shake of her head. “No. Way.”
Moving slow enough that Anna could track his movements, Cezar reached out to take her hands in his. Her skin was cold and clammy, revealing the depth of her shock.
“Give us a moment,” he commanded, gently pulling Anna away from the dead body and urging her into a wooden chair set in the corner.
Once the cell was cleared of demons, he squatted in front of Anna and gave her hands a squeeze.
“Anna,” he said softly. “Querida, please look at me.”
An eternity seemed to pass before the long sweep of her lashes slowly lifted to reveal her dazed, frighteningly vulnerable eyes.
“Are you going to tell me that I’ve been Punk’d?” she said, her voice so thick it made his heart contract in pain.
He gave a shake of his head. “Punk’d?”
“You know, reveal that this is all some huge joke?”
He lifted her fingers to his lips. “I can tell you that if that’s what you want.”
She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. “No, I want the truth. Tell me about this…Morgana le Fay.”
“She’s the Queen of the Fairies, although little is known of her. Since Arthur’s death she has hidden in her fortress upon Avalon.” He kept his voice cool, indifferent. It was that or growl with fury at the mere mention of the fairy queen.
“If Morgana is really after me, what does she want?” She shuddered. “Besides my heart.”
“I don’t know yet.” He paused and then cursed beneath his breath. Hell, he might as well get it over with. “I think you might be related to her.”
She jerked as if he had physically struck her. “Related to Morgana le Fay?”
“Si.”