“Malek was stalking Shay? Why?”

“It’s a long story, but he’s dead now.”

“Who destroyed him?”

“Cody and Shay.”

“Both of them?”

“Yep.”

“They were both assigned?”

“Shay was. It’s a long story involving an unborn baby.”

“An unborn baby?”

“You can ask Shay about it when you get back,” Ronan said.

“You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not explain.”

“Yes I can. Maybe it’ll keep you from running off again. There’s still trouble. Voltar and Tristol are still out there, and those damned vampires. We captured the blond. He had the Book of Battles.”

“We got the book back?”

“We did. Sean has it.”

“I can’t believe it. That’s great. I wish Angus could have known. He spent so much time looking for it.”

“I’m sorry about Angus, but his death wasn’t your fault, Anna.”

“I should have been with him.”

“You were assigned a demon. You had to go. The job comes first.”

Anna sighed. This was true. But if she had finished sooner he might be alive.

“Did you check the time vault?” Ronan asked.

“Not yet. I just got to Bree’s. Still no idea who brought it?”

“I think Angus must have done it,” Ronan said. “Who else could have brought the time vault? We know he was here looking for Faelan’s key.”

“Angus was too smart to try to take Druan down alone. He knew ancient demons have to be assigned.”

“Maybe it was for one of the other demons,” Ronan said. “The key is probably with his notes.”

“Maybe he hid them in the cellar. That would be just like Angus. I’ll check it out tomorrow.”

“Faelan and Bree should be home in a day or so. And get ready for another wedding.”

“Who now?” Anna asked.

“Cody and Shay.”

“I guess I have missed a lot.” After Ronan rang off, Anna hung up the phone and stared out the window at the crumbling chapel where the mysterious time vault was hidden. So Malek was dead, and the clan’s Book of Battles was back where it belonged. That was great news. Then why wasn’t she more relieved?

Feeling the need for fresh air, she grabbed a flashlight and walked outside. A front had moved in, breaking the lingering grip of fall, but it wasn’t the November chill that made her skin tight. She’d been trained to withstand the cold. Something else was troubling her, and she wasn’t sure what. But it was linked to the chapel.

In the moonlight it had a haunted, almost beautiful look. The old church had seen more than its share of life and death over the years. Beauty. Evil. Demons. Battles. Time vaults. Not many chapels could boast that kind of activity.

Before she knew it, she was heading in that direction. She passed the graveyard where Faelan had waited for Bree to wake him from his tomb. It was like a fairy tale…except fairy tales weren’t real. Demons and monsters were. One of them had killed her best friend. Her fingers closed around her talisman, feeling the warm hum against her skin.

She entered the doorway and turned off her flashlight, letting the smell and feel of the place sink in. A sense of sadness struck her, of anguish and loss. Was she sensing Angus? Ronan was probably right. He must have summoned the time vault in the cellar. Moving slowly, she made her way toward the front of the chapel, her hands trailing over pieces of pews that had fallen prey to time. One still stood, its surface worn smooth from worshippers who’d already rotted in their graves. Stretching out her hand, she touched the cold stone and felt an overwhelming rush of sadness. She lowered her body onto the pew, trying to figure out what she was sensing. The stone was warm, as if someone had recently sat there. She jumped up and looked around, but she was alone. Troubled, she hurried to the front of the chapel.

The hidden doorway to the cellar was still blocked. Faelan had restacked the stones, covering the secret entrance. There were a few scattered stones where the wall had crumbled. It was a wonder Bree hadn’t been killed when it fell, but Anna was beginning to think nothing could kill Bree. She’d survived things no human should live through.

Since she was here, she might as well check the time vault and the cellar. Both would make ideal hiding places for Angus’s notebook and the time vault key. It took Anna a few minutes to remove the stones. The sensible thing would be to wait for daylight and come back when she was properly dressed and wearing boots, but she felt compelled to continue.

She dusted off her hands and re-clipped her hair that had fallen loose. Using her flashlight, she found her way down the steps to the cellar. It was bare except for the time vault. The floor and walls were stone, so unless Angus had hidden the notebook under a loose stone or inside the time vault itself, nothing was hidden here. She approached the time vault and put her hands on the lid. Her battle marks began to tingle low on her back. She was starting to get a little freaked, but she couldn’t leave without checking. She lifted the lid and looked inside. It was empty.

The time vault felt warm under her hands, and the air grew too thick to breathe. Beside her, shadows shifted, gathering into a form. She lowered the lid and stepped back, then reached for the dagger she kept hidden inside her boot, forgetting that she wore only a nightgown and flip-flops. She grabbed her talisman instead and braced for battle as the apparition shaped into a man wearing a kilt. His head was bent, his hair covering his face. Sorrow rolled off him like thick mist. She could almost taste his pain.

It must be done. There’s no other way.

A face began to form out of the mist.

“Angus?” she whispered. But she knew it wasn’t him. It didn’t feel like him. The apparition vanished—if it had even been there—leaving only shadows and darkness. Unnerved, she hurried from the cellar without even stopping to hide the entrance. She would do it tomorrow. She stepped outside the chapel and pulled in a breath of night air. Exhaustion, stress, and guilt. That’s all it was. Angus was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. Another whisper caught her ear, but this one was different. Real. She crept around the side of the old church and saw two figures near the edge of the woods. One was taller than the other.

“It was just a grave,” the shorter figure said. He was holding a shovel. “No time vault. I can keep looking, but the prisoner must be him. The brother is in Scotland.”

“I have to get him out of there before it’s too late,” the taller man said. There was something familiar about him, but Anna couldn’t see well enough to ID him. Both voices faded as they moved farther away.

Anna crept closer.

“Wait until he leaves, then we’ll attack,” the taller man said. They turned and disappeared into the woods.

Attack? They must be demons. Or vampires. Were they planning to attack the clan? She had to warn them. There was no time to go back to the house to get dressed. She hurried after them, moving past the archaeological dig where Angus had pretended to be one of Druan’s archaeologists as they searched for Faelan’s key.

A car started up ahead. They were going to get away. Anna turned and ran full speed back toward the house. She hurried around front to her rental and yanked the door open, thankful she’d left the keys in the ignition. She kept the headlights off as she raced up Bree’s long driveway to the road. Beams from an oncoming car broke through the fog. Anna stayed out of sight, waiting for the car to pass. It had to be the men. There wasn’t much traffic on this road in the middle of the night. A dark car drove past. A man was driving. He looked slim. She waited until the taillights disappeared and then pulled out behind him. Far enough back so that she didn’t draw his attention, but close enough to keep the car in sight. It continued for a few miles, passing the road that led to the Albany castle. Why hadn’t she replaced her bloody phone? She couldn’t even call for backup.

Several miles later, the car slowed and turned down a small road. When it moved out of sight, Anna shut off her lights and followed. She had no idea where this road led. It looked private. She’d best travel on foot. She looked down at her thin nightgown, frustrated that she’d gotten caught unprepared—not something that usually happened to her. She should have taken a minute to grab her clothes and boots.

She pulled a spare dagger from under her seat and opened the door. She moved quickly, keeping hidden in the trees that lined the road as she followed the skinny man’s headlights. She caught up as the car entered a large gate in the middle of an imposing iron fence. As soon as the vehicle entered, Anna ducked low and ran. She couldn’t climb the fence with the dagger in her hand, and she didn’t want to toss it over until she knew what she might face on the other side.

Holding it in her mouth was a poor option. She had a scar on the inside of her lip from when she’d tried it while scaling a castle wall. Lifting her gown, she tucked the dagger inside the waistband of her panties. They sagged but didn’t fall off. She climbed the fence carefully, one iron bar at a time. She didn’t want to slice open her hip or her panties. She dropped to the other side and surveyed the place. Nothing but trees. After such an impressive gate, she’d expected some sort of estate, or at least a decent house. She looked around for the car, but it had disappeared.

She removed her dagger and ran toward the trees. Her shoulder slammed into something hard. The trees wavered, and she glimpsed an enormous structure as the force of the impact knocked her flat on her back.

She sat up and caught her breath. Her feet were missing.

She pulled one leg back, and her foot reappeared. The place was cloaked, just like the Albany castle. She stretched out her finger, and it vanished. Cautiously, she put her head through the invisible veil and saw a huge stone fortress. The Albany castle and the Connor castle could both fit inside this place. It had several levels, with wings and towers. A paved drive led up to the fortress, with two gargoyles on either side. Stone, wolf-like creatures lined the inside of the fence. She’d slammed into one of them, which explained why her shoulder ached.

Anna scrambled behind the nearest creature and waited to see if anyone had spotted her. Other than a soft amber glow at several windows, the fortress was dark. Who lived here? Demons? Vampires? Definitely someone who dabbled in spells. Was it the same person who’d cloaked the Albany castle? The clan hadn’t figured out who was responsible for that bit of ingenuity. She focused her senses, listening, smelling, and watching for movement. Demons stank to high heaven if they were in their natural form. If not, they could be anyone. She touched her talisman, reassured by its warmth. But deep in her bones she knew something was wrong.

A soft rumble sounded beside her. Like breathing. She whirled, one hand on her talisman, the other gripping the dagger. The stone wolf was the only thing there, its teeth bared in a snarl. Anna’s adrenaline surged even though the creature wasn’t real. She stepped away, anxious to get away from those stone teeth. A movement along the side of the fortress caught her eye. The skinny man was creeping around the corner, as if he didn’t want to be seen any more than she did. Leaving the wolf behind her, she ran after the skinny man, keeping close to the shadows of the fortress as she moved past the long windows toward the back.

A pale blond head appeared at one window, and Anna ducked behind a tree. The person was gone when she looked back, but an icy prickle crawled over her skin. The vampire Ronan was hunting had pale blond hair, but he said they’d captured the creature. There must be others. If this fortress belonged to vampires, she was up the creek. Her talisman was useless against the creatures. The only sure way to kill them was to pierce their hearts or take their heads. She had her dagger, but vampires moved like the wind, making them a hard target.

Too late to turn back now. As soon as she had the thought, something flashed across the yard toward her, and she started running. The shape slammed in to her, sending her headlong into a tree. She lay there, dazed, but a hiss jump-started her adrenaline. A glint caught her eye. Her dagger. She’d dropped it when she was hit. She grabbed it and leapt to her feet, slicing at what she hoped was a vampire neck. It wasn’t. The thing, whatever it was—she still couldn’t see it clearly—picked her up and threw her against the side of the fortress. Something cracked. She hoped it was the stone wall and not one of her bones. Rolling to her side, she gritted her teeth against the pain and jumped up. She heard a howling sound, and her attacker stopped. She could see now that it was a man, short, dark, with spiky hair. He was looking toward the front of the fortress, toward the sound.