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“Just what I need. Another faerie floating around,” Merlin griped.

“I don’t float—” Chloe shook her head to clear it. “What do you mean, you’re

from Camelot?”

Lancelot strode toward her. “While Arthur sleeps, the ancient relics given to

mortals by the gods are being summoned back. The world is on the

threshold of annihilation; the knights are being prepared to fight once

again.”

“Knights?” She looked up at Gavin wondering if any of this was real. “You’re

a knight?”

He regarded her gravely. “I am Modred.”

She felt her knees jelly as Gavin caught her. “But—you killed Arthur!”

“He did not,” Lancelot said. “Modred stood to Arthur’s left while I stood to his

right. It was Melwas who attacked.”

“But the books say—”

“The books have it wrong,” Tristan interrupted. “All those stories about

Lancelot loving Guinevere and me stealing Iseult from my uncle are wrong

too. Someone really needs to set the story straight, once and for all.”

“You look doubtful,” Lancelot said with a smile, “but we’re all stuck here until

the Grail can be found, so I’m sure Modred will have plenty of time to

convince you he isn’t all bad.” He punched Gavin lightly on the shoulder.

“Even if he is a vampire.”

“Actually, that’s kind of cool,” Chloe said.

Lancelot’s smile widened into a grin. “I guess that means you’ve already

gotten to know him then.” He flicked a finger toward a tunnel at the other

end of the cave. “There’s an extra room in there where he can explain

everything you need to know.”

“Yeah,” Sara said as came up to him, slipping her arm through his. “That

explaining really takes a long time.”

He leaned down to nibble her neck. “I don’t think I finished either.”

Chloe looked up at Gavin, seeing the man she had grown to love. Suddenly,

it didn’t matter what the books had accused him of.

Maybe she’d be the one to set the record straight and tell the world the real

story of Camelot.

She’d always wanted to write a romance novel.

The End