“Where do these demons come from?”

“Hell. But it takes a lot of power to get here.”

“Do you get to decide whether to zap them with your talisman or suspend them?”

“We destroy them if there’s no other choice. If they’re destroyed, they cease to exist, and they can’t be held accountable for their evil.” The young ones were the exception. They were always destroyed.

“So that thing I killed will never pay for the evil it’s done?”

“But it’ll never hurt anyone again.” He didn’t tell her the thing shouldn’t have disappeared at all. When anyone other than a warrior killed a demon or halfling, the dead body stayed on earth while the spirit went back to hell, powerless, to start the journey all over, whereas death by a warrior was judgment in itself. Even if the thing couldn’t be held accountable for its evil, it was destroyed forever. But nothing about Bree seemed to work the way it should.

“At least you wounded Grog. That might make him think twice about coming back. Your dagger must be powerful, since it made that halfling disappear when I hit it.”

The dirk had no special powers, but he didn’t tell her that, either. “How much longer is this gonna take?” There were times when a warrior’s senses were a curse. Like now. Every move she made drove her scent deeper inside him. It didn’t help that she was standing so close he could kiss her without even moving.

“Not long. Stop squirming. I need to add more gauze.”

He was squirming because her breast was two inches from his face. “Just put a bandage on it.”

“You’re still bleeding. Be patient,” she said, adding another layer of gauze. “It’s a virtue.”

Much more patience on his part, and she might lose her virtue.

“Now we know time vaults can suspend humans as well as demons. Imagine all the things we could do. Revolutionize medicine, keep people from dying, from aging—”

“No. Time vaults were made for demons.” If humans found out about the time vaults, they could pose as big a threat to the clan as the demons. If he thought she’d tell someone… he swallowed, not wanting to think about what he might have to do. No matter how much she’d done to help him, he couldn’t allow her to endanger his clan.

“Why won’t they open for so long?”

Was there no end to her questions? If he wasn’t careful, she’d uncover every secret his clan had hidden since the world began. “After a hundred and fifty years in suspension, demons lose their power. If someone opened the time vault afterwards, say a historian who thought she’d found a chest filled with treasure, the demon would be powerless.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed another piece of gauze. “I guess the time vault doesn’t have the same effect on warriors and talismans.”

“Some things seem… different.” Like this cursed ache for a woman who’d watched an engaged talisman and lived to tell it. The tip of her tongue appeared. It was pink and wet, and he could think of so many places he’d like to see it besides in her mouth. “Are you finished?” He had to get out of this bathroom so he could breathe without inhaling her.

“Almost. The bleeding is slowing. I was reading Isabel’s journal last night. Remember, I told you how Frederick was killed near the chapel? I found the entry in Isabel’s journal. She said he was acting strange, wouldn’t stay away from the chapel, and he kept talking in his sleep about a book. He died a few nights later. I bet he found the Book of Battles inside.”

“Who put it there?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Let’s start with finding out who that car is registered to. It might give us some answers.”

“How do I do that?” Nothing here was familiar to him. He glanced at her breasts. Well, some things were. He was tired of relying on her for everything. He wished he had his horse and his sword. In Scotland, he’d had the finest stallion. People had admired him. There wasn’t a warrior more respected. Now he hadn’t even a halfpenny to his name, dependent on a woman for every morsel of food and for shelter, transportation, and a bed. His brothers would give him the devil if they saw him. He could almost see Tavis, his chest puffed out, arms held wide, a mischievous grin. “Lads and lasses, here in the flesh, the Mighty Faelan, famous throughout Scotland, admired by lasses the world over, and his magnificent stallion, Nandor,” Tavis would bellow, as Ian rolled on the ground laughing. That was usually as far as Tavis got before Faelan leaped off his horse, pinning his brother until he stopped. Until the next time. God, he missed his brothers.

“I memorized the tag number. Cars have to be registered with the Division of Motor Vehicles. They keep track of who owns what. My friend Janie’s boyfriend works there. I’ll try to sweet-talk him into telling us who owns the car.”

“Can’t Janie do the sweet-talking?”

“If we can find out who owns the car, we can go after them. Figure out what they want.”

“We?”

“You think I’m going to sit around on my backside and do nothing, with demons and halflings running around my yard?”

That’s exactly what he thought she was going to do.

“The bleeding stopped.” She glanced toward the window as she covered the wound with fresh gauze. “Do you think they’ll come back tonight?”

“I doubt it. Grog will be afraid to tell Druan what happened. That could give us some time.”

“I still think we should get those swords from the chapel. I’d like that big one with the curved blade.”

He was beginning to understand why she wasn’t married. “That big bag you carry could do damage enough.”

She tore off a piece of tape and secured one edge of the thick bandage. “For what it’s worth, you threw that dagger like a pro.”

He felt a rush of pride until he remembered she had thrown it like a bloody warrior herself. “You’ve got dirt on your face.” And everywhere else. He wiped a smudge from her chin.

“I fell into a grave.”

“A grave? Damnation. I forgot to cover it.”

“That’s cute,” she said with a lopsided, dirt-smudged smile.

“What?”

“The way you say damnation all the time.”

He’d had a lot of compliments in his lifetime, on how he handled a horse, a sword, a pistol, and his fists, and a few compliments on other things from a pretty lass or two, but no one had ever complimented him on cursing. He grinned. Only Bree.

She added another piece of tape to the bandage, her warm fingers brushing his skin. “There, that’s the best I can do. You’re going to have another scar, and this shirt’s history.” They both reached for the ruined shirt, fingers touching. She dropped her hand and turned to gather the first-aid supplies.

Faelan threw the shirt in the trash and stood. “You sure you don’t want me to look at your shoulder?” He was doing a lousy job of protecting her, though to be honest, she fell a lot on her own. Her feet had a mind of their own, and they seemed partial to holes. The scrape on her cheek had healed quickly, but her shoulder was cut, and the knees of the trousers she slept in were torn. Who knew what other scratches he’d find under there? That started him thinking about her naked again.

“No. It’s fine.”

Probably for the best. He might end up doing more than bandage her. “Whose shirt is that?”

“Russell’s.” She pressed her lips together and put away the first-aid kit.

“Why would you wear his shirt? He made you cry.”

“I grabbed the first thing I saw.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Mostly my dishes and walls.”

She wasn’t telling him everything. “How often does he call?”

“Every day. I’ve tried changing my phone number, moving. But he always finds me. He’s the reason I’m off men.”

“Off men?” Surely she wasn’t one of those women, not after what she’d done with him in the bathroom. In his day, there weren’t many gays, as they called them now. Whoever came up with that name was one wheel short of a wagon. A man with a man, there was nothing happy about that.

“I’m avoiding men for a while.” She glanced at the big tub. Her cheeks turned pink, and she looked away. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I need to figure out what I want in a man before I let another one in my life.”

What about him? He was in her life. She hadn’t avoided him in the bathroom. Would she brush him off, brush off what they’d done like it was dirt? What did it matter? Nothing could come of it anyway.

She covered a yawn.

“We need to rest.” Maybe a good night’s sleep would help him remember he was a warrior, not a wronged lover. “I should sleep close by, in case they come back.”

She nodded but still avoided looking at him. “We can sleep in my room. There’s glass on your floor. I’m going to take a shower.”

Just what he didn’t need, another image of her naked. “I’ll block the broken window and then shower in the hall bathroom.” This would be his fourth cleaning today, more than he usually had in a fortnight or more. In the wilds he wouldn’t have bothered, but he couldn’t sleep in the same room with her when he was sweaty from battling demons. He shouldn’t stay in the same room with her anyway, but in truth he wasn’t confident more demons wouldn’t show up tonight.

He cleaned up the broken glass and shoved the dresser and mirror in front of the broken window. It wouldn’t stop a demon, but it might slow him down or give warning. He checked the floorboard. Only the necklace was missing.

After a quick, tormented shower, thinking about her doing the same, he took a blanket and pillow to her bedroom. The bathroom door was closed. He heard the water shut off, and he cleared his mind, focusing on making a bed on the floor. The door opened. Bree stood there wrapped in a towel, eyes wide, skin damp. “I… need my gown.”

Faelan tried not to stare at her long legs, dainty feet, and the swell of breasts he’d take a beating to kiss. He could see all of her but the bits under the towel, and his brain immediately started imagining the rest. He stepped closer, knowing it was a mistake. Her mouth parted, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

He followed the damp trail with his thumb. “What you said earlier, what did you mean?”

“What… what did I say?” she asked, taking a step back, staring at his mouth.

He moved closer. “You mentioned my getting this,” he brushed the front of his body against hers, “out of my system. With a woman.”

“I was curious if it would help or make it worse.” She took another step backwards, looking like a trussed rabbit.

Faelan followed, bringing their bodies close again. “Were you offering?” A stupid question after her declaration that she was avoiding men, but his brain wasn’t in charge now.

“I… I don’t know.” Her eyes said she did.

“I need to know,” he whispered. “Badly.”

Knowing how close he’d come to losing her, the torture of sitting next to that tub while she hovered over him and her soft skin covered by only a towel was too much. One kiss, then he’d focus on Druan. Faelan lowered his head. A wisp of a sigh escaped lips already opening for him, and all thoughts of demons and battles fled. Nothing mattered but her. Her lips, her body pressed against his, her stomach soft against his groin. She moaned and sank into him. He pushed against her, aching, as her tongue touched his. He put his arms around her shoulders to draw her closer, and she winced.

Faelan tore his mouth away, disgusted he’d let lust make him forget her injury. And his mission. How could he protect anyone when all he thought about was getting Bree to the nearest bed? Those halflings weren’t the last Druan would send or the worst. “I can’t do this to you.” Faelan looked at Bree’s lips, still open and moist from his kiss. “It’s not fair. And it’s late. We both need rest. Tomorrow we’ll have to find a place to stay. Would your brother let us stay with him a day or two?” He didn’t want to endanger anyone else, but he wanted Bree away from this. He was surprised Biff hadn’t stopped by already.

“I don’t have a brother.”

“What?”

“I lied.”



Chapter 13


“You lied?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was alone,” Bree said. “But I am, except for Peter and Jared. Jared’s out of town, and I didn’t think you’d want to stay with a cop. He already suspects you’re involved. So there’s nowhere for me to go.”

It was smart reasoning on her part, but a lie was a lie. Of course, he’d done nothing but lie since he’d met her, but he’d had no other choice. “You feel safe with me now?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then turn around and let me see your shoulder.”

“It’s fine.”

“It wasn’t fine when I touched it. Let me see for myself.”