Jared spun out of the driveway, throwing her against the seat. She looked back and saw Russell loping after the car, mouth open in a scream. Another man—or creature, considering how it moved—materialized out of the woods behind him.

“What’s wrong? What are we running from?” Jared asked, looking through the rearview mirror. “Was that Russell?”

“He’s not really Russell. He’s a demon. That’s just his disguise.”

Jared stared at her, his face rippling with shock.

***

“Keep the change.” Faelan got out of the taxi, yawned, and rubbed his gritty eyes. The trip home had been a nightmare, changing planes in London, getting lost in the Newark airport. He’d almost missed his connecting flight. He would have kneeled and kissed the ground if he thought he could get back up.

“I can drop you closer to the house,” the driver said, peering down the tree-lined drive.

“This is good.” He was already taking a risk coming here at night. He had to make sure the key and the book were safe. Then, he was going to trap a demon and find out what Druan was plotting. A couple hours’ sleep first would help in case he had to use his talisman. He longed for his bed, but it would be safer if he slept on protected ground in the crypt.

Faelan dragged his bag out of the taxi and crept up the driveway. He kept close to the trees, eyes and ears tuned for things that didn’t belong. He felt naked without his dirk, but Bree had warned him that airport security would scan their luggage. Not only did people fly through the air where only God and birds belonged, but now they could see through walls and inside locked luggage. He couldn’t chance having to explain his weapon while he was carrying fake identification.

The top of the house appeared through the trees, and he thought he saw an old woman’s face in the attic window, but when he blinked, she was gone. When he broke through the trees, he saw Bree’s front door standing wide open. The demons had been here.

Thank God she was in Florida.

He set his suitcase down and eased inside, sniffing the air. He could smell lavender, but no demons. The house was empty. He passed Bree’s antique mirror, and it rippled like the surface of a loch. Jumping aside, he waited until it became solid again, then pulled it from the wall, laid it face down on the floor, and put his foot through the back. An enchanted mirror. He’d seen only one before. They weren’t used much; they were too unstable, but when working properly, Druan would be able to see inside the house. Did he already know their secrets, already know how Faelan felt about Bree? Damnation. He should have sent her someplace besides her mother’s. Russell would know where his future mother-in-law lived.

More warriors would have to be sent to protect Bree and her mother. He’d call Cody, see if he and his brothers could help. Faelan reached for his phone but remembered he’d left it in Scotland. There was one in Bree’s bedroom. First he had to get the Book of Battles and the key. Faelan hurried to his room. The plank lay next to the gaping hole in the floor. He dropped to his knees, heart drumming against his ribs as he searched every corner of the hole. Empty. If Druan had the Book of Battles, the whole clan could be destroyed.

Faelan grabbed his dirk and crossed the hall to Bree’s room. Her drawers were open, clothes strewn about the room. Had Druan searched Bree’s bedroom for the key? Faelan saw a coat crumpled on the floor, the coat she had worn in Scotland. Fear slithered up his spine.

Bree wasn’t in Florida.

Where was she?

He grabbed the phone and dialed her cell. It rang in his ear as a tune played on the floor. The music grew louder as he picked up the coat and pulled her phone from the pocket. She wouldn’t leave her cell phone. Had she forgotten it, like he had? Or had she been taken against her will?

With his dirk in one hand, talisman ready, he crept down the hall, searching the rooms. The kitchen was a mess, refrigerator open, bottles strewn across the floor, as if there had been a struggle. After checking the entire house to make sure she wasn’t sleeping or unconscious, he opened the back door. Her yard was gone, nothing left but dirt.

A groan came from near the chapel. Bree? He moved closer. A man lay outside the door. Blood ran from his head, dripping over his face. Faelan made sure it wasn’t a trap, then kneeled beside the man. He’d taken a right good thrashing, but he was breathing, and most of the blood was dried, not fresh.

The man stirred. His eyelids opened but didn’t focus. “…attacked me. Help…”

“Who are you?” Faelan asked. Was this Jared? As much as he hated thinking about her and the archeologist together, he didn’t want to see her friend hurt.

“…got to stop him.”

“Stop who? Who did this to you?”

“…took it… hide… chapel… couldn’t get in,” he rambled, struggling to sit. He gripped Faelan’s arms for support, and Faelan felt something thick underneath the man’s stained sweater. “Hide it… warn Bree.”

“Warn Bree? Who are you?”

The man’s blue eyes focused, and he blinked. “You’re… him.”

“I won’t hurt you. Where’s Bree?”

He wrapped blood-stained hands around Faelan’s wrists.

“…doesn’t know about him… have to protect it.”

“Tell me your name?”

The man spoke his name, turned, and ran. The blood drained from Faelan’s face.

***

The sorcerer jumped in surprise as Druan entered the room and the heavy box crashed to the floor. He picked it up, flinching at the hot breath on his neck. Next would come the claws.

“If you damage it,” Druan said slowly. “I’ll hang you beside Onca.”

“Yes, Master.” If this thing didn’t end soon, he would die of terror anyway. He was expendable now. Each hour that ticked by, he waited for Druan to realize it.

“The others are in place. How long before we can deliver the vials?”

“A couple of hours.”

Druan glanced at the ancient books spread over the worn table. “Did you find out what went wrong with the mirror?” Druan asked.

“There was a problem with the spell.” He wouldn’t mention he’d gotten it mixed up with her computer screen. No one used enchanted mirrors anymore.

“I have something I need to do. Then we wait for the warrior.” Druan laughed. The sound started out human, but he left the room in his natural form, without so much as a thank you for all the sorcerer’s efforts in the endeavor, an endeavor that could raise Druan’s status to first rank under the Dark One himself.

Years of perfecting, making and discarding, testing on animals and unsuspecting humans, even some halflings, and finally he’d gotten it right. His formula, his work, but would he get credit? No. He’d be lucky to keep his life another half century, while Druan got all the glory. He wished he’d been someplace else when Druan came looking to replace his dead sorcerer. He looked around, agitated, afraid Druan might have read his thoughts. He hated what was going to happen, but he wanted to live, even if surrounded by monsters.

***

Faelan snuck into the castle using the same entrance as before. Crawling up that infernal vine was worse the second time, with it half pulled away from the wall and his mind in torment over the clues he’d missed. He should’ve checked all possibilities, not only the obvious ones. He let attraction get in the way. Instead of being honest with her, he let her play right into Druan’s hands.

Faelan kept close to the walls, listening for any sound. He was on the second floor, halfway across the castle, when he heard voices, one of them familiar. Clasping his talisman, he peered around the corner. Two men were talking, the white-haired man Faelan had seen in the castle the first time, and a tall, dark-blond man.

Jeremiah. Druan wore the same human shell.

A burst of adrenaline hit first, then rage. Faelan opened the talisman. He would end this now. At that moment, the old man lowered his head and walked away, leaving Druan a perfect target. Faelan aimed the talisman, lined up the symbols, then clenched his teeth, letting the talisman fall against his chest. Druan was likely the only one who knew where the virus was, and he probably had Bree. If Faelan failed again, if he destroyed Druan and couldn’t find the virus, every human would die, including Bree. He had to wait for the other warriors. They’d been alerted and were on the way. It wouldn’t be long. They could handle Druan’s halflings and minions, while Faelan took care of the demon. In the meantime, he’d find Bree.

Druan opened a thick, wooden door behind him and stepped inside. Faelan waited, hoping the demon would come out and lead him to Bree. After fifteen minutes of hell, the door was still closed. If Druan was asleep, he could be bound with the shackles. Although it would be almost impossible to sneak up on a demon of old. Faelan listened for sounds inside, but all was quiet. He eased the door open, and the scene inside struck him with the force of a blow.



Chapter 29


She lay on her side in an opulent bed, her arm curved over her breasts. Long, dark hair spilled across a pale cheek. The demon lay behind her, his human arms holding her close, the woman he’d met outside the tavern. Not Isabel, but Bree. She was a halfling. That’s how she was able to draw his eyes. She’d seen them just days before he was locked in the time vault. He remembered how gracefully she’d descended from the carriage, the green of her gown, her smile, then the look of shock. Had she known then who he was? Had they been following him while he followed Grog? The two men with her were probably Druan’s minions. Had she watched while they locked him in the time vault and waited to wake him when it was time?

Druan touched Bree’s shoulder, running his human hand over her arm and down her hip. With her eyes still closed, she smiled and murmured something, then reached for Druan’s hand. Pain roared through Faelan, ravaging everything in its path. Lies. All of it. The passion and kindness, the secret he’d seen in her eyes. All lies. He had no one to blame but himself for being deceived. The signs had been there. The key and the Book of Battles. She must have stolen them. Even if he destroyed the virus, with the book and the key, the Underworld would have the power to obliterate not only his clan, but the entire planet.

He gripped his talisman. If he destroyed Druan now, Bree would die with him. No matter what she was, he couldn’t do it. Another warrior would have to kill her, which was why warriors were warned to avoid women. He started to move, when Druan turned and looked at him. Fear flashed over Druan’s handsome, human face, shifting into a cunning smile as he focused on a spot behind Faelan. The smell came too late for him to react. Not again.

***

“Faelan, behind you!” Kieran shouted.

Faelan turned from the three demons advancing on him, and a halfling’s blade sank deep into his left arm. The pain was fierce, but at least it wasn’t his sword arm or his head, where the halfling would’ve struck if Faelan had turned a second later. Holding his injured arm close to his side, he raised his sword and met the halfling’s blade. Metal pinged against metal as the half-human backed into a corner. Faelan’s arm tightened as he swung. The evil in the halfling’s eyes flashed a second before the head separated from the body, sizzling as it vanished.

“Not bad for a novice,” Kieran said, before Faelan had even lowered his sword. He turned, gritting his teeth against the pain. Kieran grinned, but Faelan saw the concern in his mentor’s eyes before Kieran moved to help the others with the remaining demons. Faelan added his sword, and they quickly destroyed them.

“You should’ve called for help,” Kieran said.

“I thought I could handle it.”

“The others can take care of this. Let’s get that arm fixed while there’s some blood left in you.”

His arm burned like it had been gouged with a hot poker. This was his second battle since he left training and his first real injury. He was lucky he still had his head, and his arm. He never should have let the halfling sneak up on him. He followed Kieran through the corridors, clean except for the blood of warriors. Everything grew hazy.

The battlefield changed. Smoke and sulfur filled the air as swords clashed amid screams of horror.

He saw Kieran again, his face older, pale. He stood outside the circle of demons advancing on Faelan. Onwar, the ancient one, stood farther away, his teeth bared in a triumphant smile. Faelan knew he had to do something fast, or both he and Kieran would die. He couldn’t use his talisman on all of them; Onwar was too powerful. If he could kill Onwar by hand, then the talisman might be strong enough to take care of the rest.