“What are their names?” Mrs. Edwards asked, handing him his invoice.

“I don’t recall. I only met them once.”

“I can’t give out guests’ names. Policy, you know. I’m sure you’ll see them at breakfast.”

“I doubt it. I’m not much of a morning person.”

***

Bree scrubbed herself raw with the vanilla soap Mrs. Edwards provided, but the horror of the castle, and Russell, still coated her skin. There was a knock on the door. Bree turned off the shower, wrapped herself in a towel, and went to the door. “Yes?”

“It’s Mrs. Edwards, dear. I brought some toiletries you might need, and I think you dropped something downstairs.”

Bree opened the door, and Mrs. Edwards handed her a notebook. “It’s not mine.”

“I found it on the stairs. I thought… well I suppose I should look inside for a name—oh, Mr. Smith. Did you drop this?” Mrs. Edwards took off toward a tall, light-haired man who’d started up the steps. He stood with one foot on the landing, staring at Bree as the color drained from his face.

She grabbed hold of the door, her head spinning. The man took the notebook and thanked Mrs. Edwards, his eyes never leaving Bree. Instead of going to his room, he turned and started downstairs. With one quick glance at Bree over his shoulder, he hurried out the door. Unless Bree was mistaken, his hand had been trembling.

“Did he just check in?” she asked Mrs. Edwards, when she gave Bree the toiletries.

“No. He arrived several hours ago. That’s the first I’ve seen of him since he got here. Haven’t seen his friend at all. They didn’t want to be disturbed,” Mrs. Edwards said, wiggling her eyebrows. She left, but Bree couldn’t shake her queasiness. Was the man in danger? Usually her premonitions were about family or friends, not strangers. Exhausted, she lay on the bed, her finger tracing circles on the chintz spread. She was too wound up to sleep. Sighing, she threw back the covers, wishing she had the nerve to go to Faelan’s room for company, but neither of them could afford the temptation. She couldn’t let her guard down again, for either of their sakes. After Russell was out of the way, then she and Faelan could see what this thing was between them. She dressed in her old clothes and stood in front of the portrait that looked like Alana, wondering what else Faelan had left behind. A woman? Friends? Sighing, she moved to the window and pulled back the lace curtains.

Across the street, an engine revved. A car pulled out of a driveway, headlights sweeping the small courtyard under Bree’s window to the edge of the woods. Two men stood near the trees, bodies locked in an embrace. The taller one turned, shielding the shorter man as the lights swept past. Bree searched the tree line again, but the men were gone. A quick movement below the window caught her attention, a flash of black hair and a face looking up at her from the courtyard. She jumped behind the curtain. When she looked again, he wasn’t there. She bolted out of her room and ran into a wall. Male. “Faelan, I think someone followed us—”

“Pardon me.” The unfamiliar voice rolled over her like thick caramel. Bree looked up into the darkest eyes she’d ever seen, even darker than Faelan’s. Long, raven hair framed a pale face so compelling, so beautiful, so incredible… she stared at him, mesmerized, like a bug caught in a spider web, waiting to be sucked dry.

“Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“My loss,” he said, a seductive smile on his lips. Something danced in his eyes—knowledge, wisdom, sex—and she felt like she’d been thoroughly seduced. “I’ll try not to disturb you. I don’t sleep well at night.”

She blinked, and he was across the hall, opening his door.

Too late. She was already disturbed.



Chapter 18


Bree stood, feet rooted to the floor, until his door closed. He couldn’t be the man from the courtyard. That had been seconds ago. Had he followed them? He didn’t look like a demon, but neither did Russell. Bree ran to Faelan’s door and burst inside without knocking. There was a bump and a muttered curse.

She shut the door, speechless, the strange neighbor forgotten. Faelan wore jeans and nothing else. His chest was bare, except for his talisman and tattoos, damp hair held back with the leather strap she’d seen in his sporran, exposing a jaw line that made her knees tremble. Behind his ear, she could see the small tattoo she’d glimpsed in the Jacuzzi. A fresh white bandage added a vulnerable touch, making the combination deadly.

“I heard voices,” he said, holding his nose.

“I ran into one of the other guests. Did the door hit your nose?”

He nodded.

“Sorry. It’s not bleeding.”

He rubbed his finger under it and frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I ran into the guy across the hall. I’d just seen someone outside my window, and it startled me.”

Faelan picked up his dagger from the bed. “Wait here,” he said, and eased into the hall, his steps as soft as a panther’s. He paused outside the stranger’s door, sniffing the air. Moving to the next door, he ran his hands over it and lingered there, a faraway look on his face. Frowning, he entered Bree’s room, emerging minutes later. “I didn’t see anyone,” he said, after shutting his door. “Or smell anything, though I’m not sure I could after hitting my nose.” He touched it gingerly.

“Sorry. I’m just jumpy. It’s not every day you find out you almost married a demon.”

Faelan put his dagger on the table. “Do you want to stay awhile?” He cleared his throat and studied his toes. “Sleep here, if you want.”

Staying with him was a bad idea, but hanging out with a warrior who had a talisman capable of blasting a demon into nonexistence was preferable to going back to her room with only her imagination for company. She nodded. “I was coming to see you anyway. I figured we could talk.”

“Talk?”

“It might help to talk about your sister. Talking helps. Men don’t usually know that. They have to be prodded into these cleansing conversations.”

“Then prod away. We have much to discuss anyway. Please, sit down.”

His room was similar to hers, but painted a soft blue with a queen-sized four-poster bed, mahogany tallboy, chest of drawers, and an old roll-top desk. Antique pictures covered the walls, but no little dark-haired girls to remind him of the sister he’d lost. The lamp beside the bed cast a warm soothing glow.

Then, she did a stupid thing. She moved past the only chair in the room, a wingback, and sat on the end of the bed with her legs folded under her, in a skirt that didn’t reach her knees when she was standing.

Faelan glanced at the chair before joining her, settling at the top of the bed. He crossed his ankles and leaned against black and cream toile pillows, his bare feet almost touching hers. Bree swallowed and gave him a quick once-over, thighs stretching the fabric of his jeans, the faint trail of hair low on his stomach, hard abs, and finally the tattoos on his chest, dancing under the lamp’s glow. This was a mistake, but it was too late to leave.

“I see Mrs. Edwards gave you a bandage.” Other than opening his old wound, he appeared unscathed.

“Told her I’d bumped into a tree. Not quite a lie,” he said, dragging his gaze from Bree’s legs.

Bree tugged at her skirt, wishing she’d sat in the chair.

“I won’t take advantage of you,” he said, watching her squirm. “Not that I blame you. I wouldn’t trust me either.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me before.” If he apologized again, she’d hit him over the head.

“Maybe I’m trying to convince myself.” He folded his arms against his chest, biceps bulging. “I’ll keep my hands right here,” he said, tucking them under his armpits, eyes twinkling. “We could ask Mrs. Edwards for a brush.”

“A brush?” Had she forgotten to comb her hair? She ran her hands over her head, feeling her damp ponytail.

“If I get out of line, you can hit me with it like you hit Grog.”

“Oh, a broom.” He didn’t use many Scottish words, but when he did, it was utterly charming.

“That’s a sight I’ll never forget, no matter how hard I try. I don’t know who was more surprised, Grog or me.” He shook his head. “Having a woman try to rescue me is an experience I don’t relish. And not one I’d care to repeat. You live up to your name, I’ll say that. You are a disturbance.”

“I’m disturbing?”

“You disturb me.” He grinned, and she felt lava pulse through her veins.

They were treading dangerous waters. “These are modern times. You need to be man enough to let a woman do some rescuing too,” she said, which resulted in a dubious scowl. “Do you think Druan knows we were there? Could he smell us?”

“I doubt it. They stink like the devil, but their sense of smell isn’t strong. Couldn’t live with themselves if it were.” His hands dropped to his talisman. “He must be desperate by now. We’ve got to find my clan. Druan’s disease—” Faelan stopped.

“Disease? What disease?”

Faelan blew out a breath and closed his eyes.

“You’re still hiding things.” She started to get up, but he caught her arm. He moved closer and sat with his legs crossed so that their knees almost touched.

“I didn’t see any reason to worry you further. It’s not your fight.”

“Not my fight? I almost married Druan, and you wouldn’t be sitting here if I hadn’t opened the time vault. That makes it my fight. Where do you get this idea you’re Superman?”

“Who’s Superman?”

“He thought he was a one-man show, too.”

“Druan created a disease. I found out the night before I went to suspend him.”

“What kind of disease? Like the flu? The plague?”

“The plague was Druan’s father’s creation. Druan’s disease will make the plague look like a runny nose. It’ll destroy all human life.”

“Cripes. That’s why you were mumbling about war and disease.” It sounded like Druan had created a deadly virus.

“Those halflings I tracked said Druan was ready to release the disease. I couldn’t suspend Druan until I knew what the disease was, how he planned to use it, and there wasn’t time to wait for help, whether I wanted it or not. My only choice was to capture Druan, put him in shackles, and force him to tell me where it was before I suspended him.” Faelan’s jaw tightened. “If I hadn’t been so preoccupied, I might have realized Grog was a demon.”

“Do you think the halflings lied? I mean, humans are still here.”

“No. When I mentioned it, Druan was scared. I don’t think he wanted the other demons to know. Maybe Tristol destroyed it. He looked pissed enough.”

“Who’s Tristol?”

“Another ancient demon. Probably the most powerful. He’s supposed to be the closest to the Dark One.”

“This demon was with Druan?”

“He was, and two more ancient demons. Malek and Voltar.”

“Are they as powerful as Druan?”

“Aye.”

“That’s why you’re worried. I wondered why you’d be bothered over a few demons after what you did to those things in the chapel.”

“Those were halflings. Most of the demons with Druan were full. But the ancient demons, well, you know that FBI’s Most Wanted List you told me about? If our clan had a list, they’d be on it. They’re powerful, fast, and clever. It would be nigh impossible for anyone to get close enough to hurt Druan, even a warrior, unless he was assigned.”

Bree shuddered. She’d held hands with one, touched its face… slept with it.

“What were these ancient demons doing with Druan?”

“I didn’t have time to find out. They must have been helping him with the war.”

“War?”

“That’s why I was sent to America, to stop a war.”

“In 1860? You don’t… you can’t mean the Civil War.”

“That’s the name you’ve given it.”

“You were supposed to stop the Civil War? My Civil War?” The war she’d spent her life studying? Weekends she’d spent metal detecting with her dad. The Civil War collection they’d built. “You mean Russell was responsible for it?”

“He was.”

Talk about coincidences. “This is… beyond bizarre. How could one man stop a war?”

“The warriors who came with me were helping. I had them hunting Druan’s demons and halflings, but destroying him was my responsibility. I’d hoped getting rid of him would collapse his efforts. I didn’t expect the other ancient demons to be helping him.”

“Why a Scottish warrior? Didn’t America have warriors?”

“America was still a bairn, as far as countries go. All the warriors in this country came from Scotland.”

“If Druan is so powerful, why didn’t you keep some of the warriors with you? Was it because you thought your brothers were coming?”