Temptation's Crown
Date: 2020-11-10 05:00:00+00:00
Description: Rowan is just a child, but living in the world she is in has forced her to grow up, faster than she should have. When she’s attacked and nearly killed, the most unlikely of allies will come to her defense… Pagan knows he shouldn’t trust Nyx and yet, he can’t help but feel like he’s falling for her. But when he agrees to infiltrate the Masked Magistrates in order to steal a lodestone, they will both find themselves in a situation they didn’t bargain for... Stone is frantic. Emma has been abducted by possessed students, Clark at the forefront. Meanwhile, Stone, Jupiter, and Kevin are imprisoned

TEMPTATION’S CROWN

Book 6 of the

Mists of Magic and Mayhem series
by

H.P. Mallory

~ Copyright ©2020 by HP Mallory~

Published by HP Mallory at Smashwords Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ALSO BY H.P. MALLORY:

Paranormal Series: (Writing as HP Mallory) Lucy Westenra Series

Mists of Magic and Mayhem Series

Lily Harper Series

Dulcie O’Neil Series (over 1 million downloads of the series!) Jolie Wilkins Series (New York Times bestselling series!) Sinjin Sinclair Series

Peyton Clark Series

NuLife Series

Reverse Harem Series: (Writing as Plum Pascal) Happily Never After Series

Sacred Oath Series

F My Life Series

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

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ONE

ROWAN

Back in the heyday of the Underworld, there was a portal to Faery on the shore of Kinloch Kirk, or so I’d been told.

‘ On a bright day ,’ my mum used to tell me, ‘ you could see the portal, even when it was closed; hanging above the water, shimmering like a slimy slug .’

Not the most elegant description , but it used to make me laugh, and that would make her laugh and then my dad would join in.

Those had been happy times.

Exactly what had happened between my mum and my dad to break them up, I didn’t know. I was so young at the time, I couldn’t have understood it, whatever it was, and my mum had made the decision to ‘protect’ me from the truth since then, so I remained none the wiser.

I sometimes wondered if she was protecting herself from having to talk about something which, I knew, still broke her heart. I could see it in her face whenever she mentioned him—this painful expression of longing and betrayal. All I knew was that the man who’d been the sun, the moon and the stars to me (maybe just the moon and the stars—a vampire can never be the sun) was gone and I wouldn’t see him again.

To lose a father at that age meant a lot of tears, but it also meant I had time to get over it. Well, as best I could. Time had
a way of fading the memories of him and after a while, I stopped missing him, specifically. What I missed was the sensation of him. I remembered little things now—like laughter and how happy my mum was. It was the loss of that happy family that still stung.

Not that I didn’t have a happy childhood with M um, my cousin Emma and Mathilda (who acted as a sort of ersatz grandparent).

And not that Mum wasn’t happy too. But there was always an awareness that something was gone, something was missing—we’d lost something. Sometimes I would walk in on Mum, and find her staring out the window, and I always knew she was thinking of him; the lost love of her life. Sometimes I knew she’d been crying, no matter how hard she tried to hide it from me. As a kid, I didn’t understand how she could apparently hate him so much, yet miss him so fervently. As I got older, I understood it better.

So although I was constantly aware of the space that my father’s absence left in our lives, I hadn’t necessarily missed him after those first few months of deep childhood loss. It just started to feel like… I didn’t really have a dad.

Then we’d spoken on the phone. And suddenly I had a dad again.

It seemed impossible that I could remember his voice , but when I heard it, something moved inside me, like my whole body tightened. If I didn’t remember him, my body did and it passed those memories back to my mind—suddenly I could remember bedtime stories, Dad jokes and so many other day to day activities.

And I was elated. Happy in a way I hadn’t been for a long time.

It had just been so… wonderful to talk to my dad again and to know he still loved me, that he hadn’t forgotten about me.

On the other hand, Mum was going to kill me when she got back.

If she got back.

“No!” I slammed my heels into the sand where I sat on the beach, knees drawn up to my chin. I would n’t entertain thoughts like this.

Mum was going to be fine. There was no reason to worry.

But if there hadn’t been a reason to worry , I wouldn’t have called Dad. But, now that I had, I knew he’d protect her. He’d said as much.

So, again; there was no reason to worry.

Mum could look after herself and if, for some reason, she had gotten in over her head, then Dad would look after her.

Of course, there was a decent chance they would kill each other, but that was a problem for another day.

It was weird to think they were both out there on some sort of quest. It was weirder to think that before I was born, they did this sort of thing all the time. Most children have that moment when they realize their parents are human beings who had a prior life; they find pictures of them dancing at a nightclub in a ‘

Party Naked ’ T-shirt or stumble across something they shouldn’t.

In my case, my parents had basically been action heroes until I came along. Maybe they would have gone on being action heroes, but for a while there wasn’t anything to fight against; the world was peaceful.

Then the Queen of the Underworld (my Aunt Jolie) was killed, and everything changed. Especially for me and my cousin Emma. Now there was plenty to fight about, but until recently, it seemed as if both my parents had decided to sit this particular fight out.

Despite the changing world, my mum had been a mum for the last ten years. Whatever it was she was chasing out there, it would have taken something pretty major to tear her away from me and the peace of Kinloch Kirk. And that pretty major thing was Aunt Jolie.

Was it possible she really was alive after all these years? It didn’t seem possible to me, but Kinloch Kirk was a place where the line between possible and impossible was blurry as hell.

I stared out across the waters of the Kinloch bay, so still and quiet. This had been a wonderful place to grow up, but it had been a lot more wonderful when Emma was here too. Now she was off hav ing adventures at school, Mum and Dad were off doing their thing, and me? I was stuck here with Mathilda—who I loved, but my life wasn’t exactly exciting. I couldn’t help but wonder: why was everyone else out there living and not me? When did I get to have an adventure?

The sun was starting to set, sending red and orange rays shimmering across the undulating surface of the water. The tide was coming in and as I watched the horizon, the first wave reached my bare feet, making my toes curl defensively into the sand, away from the cold water. I scooted my bum back a foot or so. It was probably time for me to go in, but I wasn’t ready yet.

Days like these you had to savor.

What was that…?

Raising my hand to my eyes against the dying sun and squinting , I tried to make out the blurry shadows in the sky, coming this way. They were unlike any birds I’d ever seen before, and seemed to be travelling faster than the average bird, as well. I could hear them now, a strange screeching call, like a war-cry, reaching me from across the water. We got a lot of weird sea
birds around this way—sometimes I wondered if they had somehow stumbled through from another realm—and yet, there was something about these birds that was making me uneasy.

A shiver tingled down my spine.

As they came closer, I could now see these weren’t birds at all.

No, they were human—or, at least, human shaped—they had pink skin (like, bright pink) and a shock of red hair that was blowing out behind them as they came towards me at speed. They seemed to be riding something—maybe brooms? Yet, they weren’t like any witches I’d ever seen (and I’d seen a few). Their screams were growing louder now, reminding me of howler monkeys, ululating back and forth.

Nervously, I got to my feet and began to back away from the water’s edge. When you were the niece of the Queen of Underworld, and the daughter of an Elemental and a Master Vampire, you learned that not everyone in the world looked like you and you shouldn’t judge people by appearances. Werewolves looked scary as hell, but I’d had tea with a few and they had been perfectly charming. I didn’t want to be the bigot here, but there was something about these creatures, whatever they were, that was ringing alarm bells in my head.

As I took another step back, the leader of the group spotted me.

He raised his arm, whooping loudly to the rest of the aerial squadron to get their attention, then pointed down at me again, turned the nose of his stick downwards. Then he dived, the rest of the party following.

I turned and ran.

From behind me, I heard the screams and cries over the rushing air as the creatures tore down towards me. Stupidly, I looked back to see how close they were ( very ). As I did, my foot caught something on the ground and down I went into the sand, tossing and tumbling and landing on my face. I scrabbled around onto my butt and saw the leader of the creatures screaming towards me, almost on top of me, his clawed hand outstretched to grab me.

I screamed, terror pounding through me.

From nowhere, two figures leapt out in front of me, one of them knocking the creature off the stick it was riding, sending it to the ground in a cloud of sand.

“Are you alright?”

“Wuh?” I answered (best I could do, but it was a pretty dumb question).

“Good.”

The figures were dressed in camouflage gear and wore masks. I had no idea who they were, where they’d come from or how they’d happened to be passing by when I needed help. And, to be honest, as long as they were on my side, I didn’t care. The one thing I did know was that they knew how to fight and were currently kicking weird monster ass. They were super-strong too, and I wondered if they might be vampires—they’d appeared just as the sun had gone down.

Whatever the flying things were, I was clearly their target. They swooped down from the sky in twos and threes, aiming directly for me, and my mysterious protectors did their best to fend them off.

Both were now armed with sticks (the ones the creatures had been riding on before my new friends knocked them onto their rear ends), and were whirling them around like high-speed windmills, keeping the creatures at bay. But, good though they were, there were only two of them against a whole host of the flying things.

“Get back to the house!” One of the masked people yelled—
revealing that she was, in fact, a woman.

I scrambled up from the sand and took off as fast I could—which wasn’t all that fast because running on sand is hard. But the creatures saw me trying to make a break for it, and a pair of them tore after me at breakneck pace.

I hurled myself to one side, hitting the ground, arms protectively covering my head, feeling the rush of air across my back as they zoomed over me.

“Stay down!” yelled my male protector when I raised my head long enough to spit the sand out of my mouth. “What now?”

He was talking to his companion.

“I’m open to suggestions. There’s too many of them.”

That wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on the back of my shirt and I was pulled from the sand. I was quickly turned around and found myself staring into a masked face.

“Right. We’re going to try this again. You run for the house and this time, we’ll come with you to cover your back. Stop for nothing. Fast as you can go. When you get there, head for the cellar. Got it?”

I nodded feebly as a pair of hands grabbed me under the arms and hoisted me back onto my feet.

“GO!”

I ran as fast as I could, with my masked bodyguards lashing out at any flying creatures that came too close, but there were still
too many of them. Not to mention that they were able to move so much faster in the air than I was able to move on ground. In the skies above us, a few of the monsters streaked ahead to cut us off from the house.

“What do we do?” I yelled, but both of my protectors had their hands full already, fighting back the creatures coming at me from the rear.

What did I do now? If I stopped running, they’d be on me, but if I carried on running, then I was just going to run straight into their waiting claws. Mum had taught me how to fight but little more than the basics of self-defense—mainly owing to the fact that she hadn’t wanted me to follow in her footsteps—taking up the life of a warrior.

I was running out of time.

I could change directions and run elsewhere, but there was nowhere to hide nearby, and I would be totally exposed. That meant, they’d catch me before I’d be able to reach cover. A cold fear lanced through me; there was nothing I could do.

Whatever the creatures were, they were going to get me.

As the thought broke in my mind, I saw the door of my house open and Mathilda walked out. She was glowing brilliant white, her long hair billowing around her head as if she were underwater, her eyes shining with magical energy that crackled across her skin. Looking between the bodies of the creatures waiting in front of me, I could see her feet weren’t touching the ground.

Her lips moved and then I felt the wave of silent sound before I heard the muted boom, like a sonic implosion. From around me, a vast ball of energy blossomed outwards, catching up the pink-skinned creatures and carrying them with it like a riptide, bearing them away into the distance.

I’ d skidded to a halt, and now could only watch from the inside of the magical blossom. My two saviors stood beside me, gazing up. They were as slack-jawed in amazement as I was, from what I could tell. You didn’t often get to see a display of power like this.

I’ d known Mathilda all my life and I knew she was a powerful Fae, but I’d never really seen the powerful side of her. Sure, she did a little magic around the house, but, even then, she usually preferred to use her hands wherever possible—she didn’t believe magic existed to make life easier; it existed to make life better .

Mathilda was like a grandmother to me, and I would never have dreamed she was this powerful. And, yet, here was proof right in front of me.

The shimmering blossom of magical energy vanished, leaving Kinloch Kirk silent except for the wind in the trees. Though you could still taste the trace magic on the air, mixing with the salt spray of the ocean.

“Wow,” I breathed. “Mathilda, that was…” I turned back towards the house where Mathilda still stood. But as I did so, she suddenly collapsed to the ground. My sense of relief was short-lived as I raced back to the house, all exhaustion forgotten.

I dropped to my knees beside Mathilda, gathering her up into my arms. “Mathilda?” I said, my voice stricken. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

Mathilda’s eyes fluttered weakly and her lips move as she whispered, “Might have overdone that a bit.”

“You’ll be okay… right?”

There were tears in my eyes. She’d saved my life, but at a tremendous cost to her, and all I wanted was to call Mum and tell her what happened and have her make it okay—which was what Mums did. But my mum wasn’t here, and I didn’t have any way of getting in touch with her.

I looked back towards the beach to see if I could get any help from my two new friends. But they’d vanished, just as surely as they’d first appeared.

The beach was empty.

TWO

PAGAN

Braden’s garotte dug into my throat as he pulled hard, laughing as he did so.

“Hurts, does it? Big hero’s in pain is he? Why don’t you do something heroic then? Why don’t you save yourself?”

That was the plan. At that moment, though, I had a bag over my head, a pain in my gut where Braden had punched me, and a garotte digging into my windpipe, restricting my breathing.

Everything was against me. Or so it would seem.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

At moments like this , you have to count your advantages and I had only one; Braden wanted me to know. More than that, he needed me to know. To know he was the one who had beaten me and that he’d won.

Any decent assassin would have looped the garotte over my head—
one swift pull and that was that, I was dead and there would have been nothing I could do about it. I was very lucky that Braden was a conceited idiot. It wasn’t that he couldn’t kill me; he was choosing not to, making the torture last so he could enjoy my suffering. That was a bad mistake, and he was about to learn as much the hard way.

With a grunt, I rammed my head backwards as hard as I could and felt my skull impact Braden’s nose. The young man cried out, letting go of the garotte as he clutched his face. I gasped in breaths as I tore the bag from my head, getting rid of it just in time as Braden’s accomplice came at me with a knife. He lunged at me and I grabbed his knife hand then twisted it up behind his back until he shrieked like a girl and dropped the blade.

“I’ll take that,” I muttered and hurled the man across the room.

Braden grabbed a chair and threw it at me, but I side-stepped. He was seething with fury (much of it at himself for letting me go) but I could also see the terror in his eyes. I decided to give him a reason to be scared. Very deliberately, I tucked the knife into my belt—he was unarmed and I wanted to show him I didn’t need a weapon to kick his ass.

“Come on then ,” I taunted him. “You wanted to kill me. Now’s your chance.”

One thing you could say about Braden; he didn’t lack confidence.

He sprang at me, swinging a fierce punch. He was an athlete who was used to winning and he made the mistake of thinking strength and speed was all you needed to win a fight. I had both too, but I also had skill and experience. I’d spent the last few years fighting a guerilla war against people who really wanted me dead, and someone like Braden was no problem.

I dodged his blow and returned one that nearly knocked him over.

His accomplice came at me again, leaping onto my back and locking his arm about my throat. I hurled myself backwards, slamming him into the wall over and over until his grip loosened. Then I grabbed his arm and flipped him over my head onto the floor.

As I was dealing with his friend, Braden took the opportunity to come up behind me with that damn garotte again. This time he would make it quick. But I caught sight of him in Nyx’s mirror, and was able to move out of the way at the last moment. I snatched the wire from his hands.

“Nasty things. That’s not how a man fights.”

“How would you know!” Braden spat out the petty, childish insult as he hauled his accomplice to his feet.

Now they came at me together. But, again, they were not men used to fighting like this. When I fought side by side with Matherson, we worked together as if we were one person—these two just got in each other’s way.

I ducked Braden’s punch, and elbowed him in the face as his friend came at me, swinging hard, but slow. I dodged the blow and tripped him, so his head slammed into the wall and he crumpled into an unconscious heap.

I turned back to Braden. “Let’s keep it one on one, eh? That’s fairer, don’t you think?”

Braden looked at me with hatred in his eyes. That was the problem. The hatred. Even if I stopped sleeping with Nyx, Braden would still hate me because I had slept with her and because she wanted me. If I threatened him with the knife now, he would walk away, but he would come at me again soon and next time, the odds would be even less in my favor. Next time it wouldn’t be a garotte, it would be poison in my food.

If you really want to kill someone , it doesn’t matter how good a fighter they are, or even how careful they are; you can kill them. No one can be on the watch twenty-four-seven. If it hadn’t been for Braden’s ego, for his need to let me know he was the one behind this attack, then he could have killed me already.

I had to draw a line under this here and now. Otherwise, sooner or later, even with Nyx on my side, even with the Templars looking out for me, this little shit was going to get me. Beating him wasn’t enough, I needed to beat him down so badly that he was scared to even try again.

I didn’t like doing this.

I was a warrior and there was no honor in a fight like this.

Braden and I were supposed to be on the same side and this wasn’t the way I’d led the Order of the Templar. But sometimes a person left you no choice.

Braden made the first move—he was the type who always makes the first move—and he made it like someone who’d never been in a real fight. Real fights aren’t like the ones in rings and arenas or what you see in the movies. In real fights, anything goes. I feinted left, caught him off-guard and pummeled him in the kidneys. As he clutched at his side, I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back to the point just before something snaps, then rammed his face into the wall and held him there.

Credit to him; Braden kept clawing back at me with his free hand and trying to kick me as I held him there. He was beaten, but he wasn’t broken.

I let him go and he whirled around at me with a look of triumph on his face, genuinely believing he’d managed to somehow free
himself. I delivered a swift left and right that knocked the smile from his face and the sense from his head. He was still more or less on his feet, though weaving a bit from side to side, so I punched him again and watched him drop heavily to the floor.

“Get up.”

He tried, but he was now too dopey to get beyond his hands and knees. Oh, well. I kicked out one of his arms, so he crashed back to the floor, then trod on his fingers.

“Do I have your attention?”

Braden snarled, muttering and hissing to himself, more like a werewolf than a Fae, unwilling to even look at me.

I stooped down and punched him again, hard enough to bounce his head off the floor. Again; I don’t like punching a man when he’s down, but this man left me no choice. I kneeled down beside him, took the knife from my belt and held it to his throat.

“How about now? Do I have your attention now?”

Braden’s eyes goggled from his head.

It had been said about me that I was too ‘nice’ to be a revolutionary leader, and maybe there was some truth to that. I did always try to see the best of people. I believed in things like honor and decency and that no man should be left behind.

That was all stuff that mattered to me and I wouldn’t have been the leader I was without such a belief system. I was slow to discipline my followers because I believed a kind word went further. Perhaps someone more ruthless, someone like Nyx, would have been more suited to leading the Order of the Templar through the recent skirmishes with the King’s Alliance. Perhaps, but the Templars would never have followed her as they did me.

Regardless, it’s a mistake to confuse ‘nice’ with ‘soft’. I hadn’t gotten to my position of power on charisma alone. When someone refused to respond to decency, then I could be as hard as nails—maybe even as hard as Nyx. I was capable of doing what was necessary. The difference was that I only did so when it was necessary, which actually made it more effective because no one ever expected behavior like this from Pagan. The moral was; watch out for nice guys—when we snap, you’ll know about it.

With a bleary groan, Braden’s accomplice rolled over, saw what was happening, sprang up and ran for the door.

“Your choice of friends is terrible,” I commented as I faced Braden again. “Were you trying to kill me?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t have a lot of respect for Braden—practically none, in fact—but he didn’t try to lie his way out of it, even when his life was on the line. He didn’t beg or back down. He had pride.

Maybe he had too much, but he didn’t try to weasel out of what he’d done.

“That’s what I thought.”

I removed the knife from his throat, let his head drop back to the floor, and dropped the knife beside him.

“Don’t do it again.”

Braden looked up and wore a confused expression. “You’re not going to kill me?”

“I’m not going to kill you… now.”

He looked surprised, but he also looked grateful, and I realized I’d played this about right. “You owe me one, Braden. Don’t forget that. Because if you do, then I might decide to redress the balance.”

He nodded. He probably still didn’t like me, but I didn’t think he hated me anymore. He’d been ready to die and I’d held back.

That had to count for something.

I offered him my hand and he took it. Then I helped him to his feet and he washed his face in Nyx’s private bathroom while I hastily tidied the place. There were a few broken things, but Nyx didn’t strike me as the type to care. Or even notice.

As Braden came back from the bathroom, Nyx entered and was brought up short by the sight of both of us.

“Not that it doesn’t suggest some intriguing possibilities, but why are two of my favorite lovers in my bedroom without me?”

“Just going over security arrangements,” I lied, without missing a beat. “Braden wanted to know how the Templars fit in with your current detail and I was saying that maybe we should settle in first. You might not be comfortable with my people holding weapons around you.”

Nyx nodded, smiling from one to the other of us. “Well, that’s none of Braden’s business but the bigger question is: why is this discussion taking place in my bedroom?”

“I was waiting here for you,” I replied. I could feel Braden’s eyes on me. “Braden came and found me here.”

Nyx looked from one to the other of us. Braden was bruised, but I had kicked his ass that morning, as well so there was no reason for her to think we’d fought again.

She shrugged. “Well, much as I want you two to be familiar with my bed, I’d rather policy discussions took place elsewhere.”

“Sorry,” apologized Braden. “I should have known better.”

Nyx was clearly suspicious, but didn’t know what of. “Nice to see the two of you getting along. All friends now?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I replied. She wouldn’t have believed me and Braden as friends anyway.

“Good,” Nyx smiled. “I think I prefer the two of you competing for me. More fun that way. Now, I’ve had a long day. Braden, get your ass out of here. I’ll see you later.”

She shut the door after Braden left and then turned to face me.

One of her eyebrows was drawn in a haughty expression and her narrowed eyes told me I hadn’t pulled the wool over her eyes.

“You care to tell me what that was about?”

I put on my best innocent face. “You don’t believe what I told you?”

“Not for an instant.” Nyx grinned. “Which is actually kind of cool. I thought you were my little boy scout, but it turns out there’s another side to the noble Pagan.”

I shook my head and laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I could make you tell me.” The smile never left Nyx’s face. “One way or another, by pain or by pleasure, I could get the truth out of you.”

I looked into her green eyes, and just the sight of them brought heady memories of the night before, stirring that uncontrollable passion I had for this woman back into life. “Yes. Yes you could.”

“Lucky for you, I don’t care. At least, as long as the two of you aren’t plotting against me.”

“Braden and me?” I raised an eyebrow. “Plotting against… you ?”

“Does seem a little unlikely. As does you plotting against me at all.”

“There’s only one thing I want to do against you.”

Nyx considered this. “I can’t decide if that’s sexy or not.” She smiled. “You were waiting for me, huh?”

“I wanted to thank you for making the Templars welcome here.”

“Is that the only reason you were waiting?”

Nyx brushed up close to me, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me, lightly on the lips. Just her proximity was enough to fire up my arousal once more, her raw sexuality driving all other thoughts from my head.

“If memory serves,” said Nyx, taking hold of my belt with one hand and pulling me after her as she walked backwards towards the bed, “we left things unfinished this morning.”

“I was extremely unfinished,” I stressed, already hard inside my pants.

Nyx laughed. “Well, I’ve had a pretty boring day and I’m more than ready for some fun. What say we fuck for a few hours then I’ll go meet your friends?”

I was already tugging her dress up her legs, unable to control myself in her intoxicating presence. One day, my passion for this woman was going to make me do something very stupid indeed, and I really hoped my friends would be there to hold me back.

But I didn’t think today was that day, and what we were going to do now didn’t seem stupid at all. Actually it seemed like the smartest idea I’d had in ages.

THREE

STONE

“Emma!”

The girl I was supposed to be protecting fell to the floor as Clark—or at least the thing that was wearing Clark like a skin suit—laid his hands on her.

I’ d already been halfway across the room, but now three more students (all in my class and yet I couldn’t have told you the names of any of them) blocked my path. Magic sprang from their outstretched hands, knocking me back across the room again. If I’d been better prepared, perhaps I could have defended myself, but this was magic they shouldn’t have known.

This was old magic, strong magic. This wasn’t student magic.

Stunned though I was, my mind was now working overtime.

Werewolves weren’t really magic users, they were more shock and awe troops. So whatever creature it was that had possessed them had used the wolves to seek out magic users—and where better than a magic school, where you had lots of the magical cramped together without the skills to defend themselves? The students might not know much advanced magic, but they had the capacity to perform it—all they lacked was the knowledge. Now, they were possessed by something that had the knowledge, something that was
now in control of bodies in which that knowledge could be put to use.

In other words, depending on what the hell had possessed them, they might be some of the most potent magic users around.

Shit.

Clark picked up the unconscious Emma from the floor.

“Leave her alone!” yelled Kevin as he started forward and in the next instant, both he and Jupiter were pinned to the ceiling by a magic web.

My body still felt as if someone had set-up stop signs along all my nerves, but I wasn’t going to let them just walk out of here with Emma. I lurched back to my feet like a George Romero zombie and raised my clumsy hands to do some magic of my own.

Another blast from the possessed students picked me up and slammed me into the wall. The lights went out, and colors swirled in my head.

“Professor Draper! Professor Draper!”

“Wake up, Professor Draper!”

The first thought that struck me as I rose to the surface of the velvety blackness that seemed to have swallowed me whole was; Who the fuck is Professor Draper ?

“Wake up, you bastard!”

That felt more familiar —I’d been woken up by just those words many times, mostly by angry women. My eyes opened to see Kevin and Jupiter, inches from my face. “Don’t talk… to your… professor like that,” I managed.

“Well, wake the fuck up and I wouldn’t have to!” Kevin snapped back—that one had a bitchy attitude on him.

“They locked us in, Professor Draper,” said Jupiter, both her voice and her face filled with panic. “And something’s happening.”

“Wait…” I needed a moment to understand. Who had locked us in where?

“I don’t think there’s time to wait.” Jupiter moved out of my eyeline and pointed to an air vent through which multi-colored smoke was seeping.

“Ah,” I said. That was it; we’ d been locked in the school’s panic room by students who had been possessed by something blue
and glowing—something that knew how to use magic. Just another day at Elmington.

I struggled up to my feet. “What do you mean they’ve locked us in?” I demanded, my head aching like a son of a bitch. “This is a panic room, the lock is on the inside . That’s sort of the whole point.”

“They’ve sealed the door with a spell,” explained Jupiter.

“And because it’s on the outside, we don’t even know what sort of spell it is,” added Kevin.

That was clever. The people who’d designed this panic room hadn’t thought about that.

Gingerly, I approached the air vent from which the smoke was coming. It shifted from light turquoise to forest green as I came closer, as if it was responding to my presence.

“Professor, do you really think you should get so close to it?”

Jupiter asked.

“Probably not,” I answered with a shrug, though I wasn’t much concerned, owing to my vampire constitution. Poisons wouldn’t kill me.

With a gentle wave of my hand , I wafted some of it closer to my nose, and noticed the color changed at my touch, morphing into an angry red as if it didn’t like to be messed with.

“Dragon breath,” I muttered as I caught a whiff of the smoke and recognized the bitter scent.

“Oh, no,” said Jupiter.

“What?” asked Kevin.

“It’s poisonous!” exclaimed Jupiter, starting to hyperventilate.

“To be honest, I’d kind of assumed that,” said Kevin. “I didn’t think they’d seal us in here then pump in pine-scented air freshener.”

“What do we do?!” Jupiter turned her panicked gaze on me.

Which was fair enough. I was the adult and the one in charge. It was up to me.

When Sinjin had given me the assignment of looking after his niece (and boy was I not looking forward to reporting back to him

—Dragon’s Breath might be the easy way out), one of the reasons he’d done so was because I was tough; a survivor. He figured, I guess, that someone who can look after himself should also be able to look after someone else. Turns out, that’s not always the
case. I was exceptional at looking after number one, but I’d lost Emma and had no idea how to save the others.

My gut instinct was that if Jupiter and Kevin weren’t here and all I had to do was find a way out for myself, then I would have come up with something. But having them here somehow killed my survival instincts. I was so worried about them, I couldn’t think straight to save them. Probably some sort of irony in that.

I needed to put them from my mind, I needed to be selfish, I needed to not care about them at all. Shouldn’t be too hard as they were fairly annoying. Especially Kevin.

“It’s getting thicker!” Jupiter’s voice raised a pitch every time she spoke, as her panic levels climbed.

The smoke was now ankle deep on the floor and rising fast. Could I stop it? That was the wrong question—if I stopped it, then I’d still be stuck in this fucking room. That way I had two problems to solve. If I focused on finding a way out, then I solved two problems with one solution.

I made for the door, running my hands across it. It was huge and circular, like the door of a bank vault, and had one of those steering wheels on the inside that you spun to open it. I tried to turn it, not really thinking it would do anything, and it refused to budge. Not surprising.

The door was s ealed on the outside by magic of an unknown type.

It had to be pretty powerful magic because the door itself was enchanted—it was designed to keep people out.

My mind raced.

One of the spells my old grandmother had taught me back when I was young was the Gypsy Switch, such a simple spell, but such an effective one in the right circumstances.

“Professor Draper, it’s up to our knees.” Kevin wasn’t even being sarcastic now—that was probably a sign of how serious this situation was.

The great thing about gypsy magic was that high magic users tended to ignore it, writing it off as colored handkerchiefs and crystal balls. They didn’t like to get their hands dirty with salt of the earth magic from the old country. That might just work to my advantage.

“Get back,” I advised the two of them.

“Are you going to get us out of here?” asked Jupiter.

“I’m going to try,” I said. “And the good news is, that if I fail, we’ll probably never even know it.”

“What does that mean?” asked Kevin, frowning all the while.

The smoke was coming in faster now, pouring through the vent in an ever-shifting avalanche. It was up to my waist already.

“Cover your mouths!” I shouted back to them.

I placed my hands against the door, seeking for the magic—not the spell that sealed it now, but the old enchantment which kept it closed against attackers. There it was—like a coiled spring, concealed within the metal of the door. It was an old spell, placed on the door back when Elmington was first constructed, whenever that was (I’d been told, but I really couldn’t have cared less). It was powerful, designed to keep this door closed even if a bomb hit it. That power was what I needed. It was more power than I could summon myself, but it was there to borrow if you knew how.

“Professor Draper!”

Jupiter and Kevin were standing on chairs to keep their heads above the level of the still-rising smoke. I was too intent on what I was doing to notice—I couldn’t stop now. I breathed in the smoke and felt the Dragon’s Breath enter my lungs. Good thing for my vampire constitution or I’d already be dead.

Just a few seconds more.

“Professor Draper, what are you doing!” Jupiter yelled.

The smoke was covering my eyes now, making them burn and sting. I could feel it filling my lungs. Next it would worm its way into my blood, where it would invade the corpuscles and shred me from the inside out. Dragon’s Breath was outlawed by every magical body for a reason—it was an unnecessarily horrible way in which to kill someone. And even though I was an undead, I had to wonder if it might leave me with some permanent damage…

My lips moved as I intoned the rough, gypsy words I’d learned at my Grandmother’s knee, and to my satisfaction, I felt the old enchantment stir and come to life.

The Gypsy Switch is a simple spell, barely requiring any power.

It just reverses the power of an existing spell. You can’t use it to throw back a fireball or anything like that. But for a spell placed on an inanimate object, it works well, harnessing the power of that spell, but in the opposite direction to that intended.

The massive door of the panic room exploded away from me, rocketing down the corridor beyond like a heavy metal champagne cork coming out of a bottle, leaving behind a ragged, rubble-strewn hole.

The Dragon’s Breath poured from the room after it, dragged out by the force of the explosion.

I turned to face the other two. “Come on!”

They didn’t need me to tell them twice, and all three of us charged out of the panic room, away from the poisonous gas, clambering over the door where it had finally come to a stop in a heap of rubble it had torn from the walls on its way through.

Once we were into the corridor, I collapsed into a sitting position, coughing. With a shock, I realized that I was coughing up multi-colored smoke. That couldn’t good. How much of this shit had I breathed in?

“Professor Draper!” Jupiter ran to me and put a hand on my chest.

“Kevin! Come here, quick!”

Kevin’s hand joined Jupiter’s, rising and falling with the heavy breaths I was taking.

“This may sting a little,” Jupiter warned. She closed her eyes and I could see the energy building in both her and Kevin.

“Cleanse.”

I felt the magic tingle from their hands into my chest and then my rib cage seemed to implode like a rhinoceros sat on me. It felt as if my body was trying to expel both of my lungs out of my nose. Smoke poured from me, from my mouth, my nose and even my eyes, forcing a burning path out of my tear ducts. It was multi-colored at first, but then changed into a black, roiling cloud, twisting in the air as if it had a life of its own. As the last of it poured from my raw lungs, Jupiter wound the cloud in a lattice of bright magic and, with a pretty well-executed gesture of her hands, dispelled it into the ether.

Great teacher she must have had.

“How do you feel?” she asked, solicitously.

“Like an elephant is sitting on my chest.”

“That’s normal.” Jupiter smiled with relief. “If it had gotten into your blood, then I wouldn’t have been able to do anything, but we got it in time.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Both of you.”

They gave me a moment to get my breath back.

“Are you really a vampire?” asked Jupiter, which seemed an odd question given that they’d watched me drink their friend’s blood earlier.

“Yes.”

“But you can go out in daylight?”

“Yes.”

“And you were sent here by the Sinjin Sinclair?”

“Yes.”

“Are you banging Emma?” asked Kevin.

I glared at him. “No.”

He was protecting his friend, which was fair enough. The three of us had that in common. I hadn’t paid that much attention to them before tonight ( I really wasn’t cut out to be a teacher) except in observing that Emma had friends and they seemed to be good ones. But now we’d been thrown together and had a common cause; we cared about Emma and we wanted to get her back safely.

“What now?” asked Jupiter.

“Stay here,” I said. Then I thought again—I had no idea where the… whatever they were had gone. They might have run off with Emma or they might still be hanging around here. “Scratch that.

Come with me.”

I hurried down the corridor with Jupiter and Kevin running after me, heading for where the attack had started.

It wasn’t long before we encountered other students and teachers.

“Professor Draper!” Professor Kincaid’s eyes weren’t glowing blue, so I figured she could probably be trusted.

“Where were you?” she asked me.

“The panic room.”

Professor Kincaid nodded. “Good place to hide.”

“Not anymore,” I admitted. “It may need a little remodeling. You can take it out of my pay check for the next few hundred years.”

I took a breath. “Have you seen the others?”

“Not for a while.”

People were, for the moment, too dazed and confused to be thinking straight or planning ahead, they were just wandering from place to place and it was starting to dawn on the teachers that they were going to have to make some very awkward calls to parents, of the ‘ Your child has been possessed by something ’

variety. Which is a risk you take when sending your kids to a place like Elmington. It’s like Hogwarts or Professor Xavier’s Academy—I imagine parents had to sign a disclaimer saying they wouldn’t sue if something horrifying happened to their child.

With Kevin and Jupiter still in tow, I set out to search as much of the school and grounds as we could in a short time. The chaos was everywhere. No one knew how many of the wolves there had been, but it seemed as if we would be able to work it out from how many missing students there were. That was what the wolves had come for. It was too early to be certain, but it was also starting to seem as if they’d come for the best of the students, the ones with most potential as magic users.

Which really raised a question about why they’d taken Emma. They couldn’t have been more specific about it. Taking her seemed to be the only reason they’d followed us into the panic room and they’d chosen her over Jupiter and Kevin, either of whom would have been the better pick if the wolves were just looking for superior students (Jupiter in particular). I adored Emma (in ways a teacher probably shouldn’t) but she sucked at magic—if it weren’t for her parents, she would probably not even have been accepted to the school. Was it possible that some part of Clark’s mind remained and he wanted to take his girlfriend with him? It was possible, but it didn’t seem at all likely.

Thus, it was a mystery. But it wasn’t the main thing on my mind right then.

“They’ve gone,” said Jupiter, after we’d done a hasty circuit of the school.

“Looks like,” I nodded.

“And they’ve taken Emma.” I didn’t think Kevin was directing the comment at me, but I was already blaming myself. I should never have let her open that damn door to let the other students in.

“What now?” Jupiter said again.

“I need to make a call.”

I’d been putting it off, but I had to let Sinjin know what had happened here. Apart from anything else, I didn’t want to be in charge any more. Like I said, I’d happily take responsibility for my own life—I’d own up to my own screw-ups and take the consequences. But having to be responsible for another person… I thought I could handle it, but then that person turned out to be Emma, which just made the whole thing so much more complicated.

“ You have reached Sinjin Sinclair, Master Vampire… ”

“Damn it!” I was so infuriated, I couldn’t even appreciate how ridiculous Sinjin’s voicemail message was.

“… if you wish to join the Vampire Coalition, please join our mailing list at CarpathianCruises.com. If you are trying to contact me on a personal matter, I almost certainly do not care.

Think very carefully, therefore, before leaving a message after the tone. ”

“Sinjin, it’s Stone. I need you to call me the moment you get this. Something has happened.”

I hung up.

Damn the man. What the hell was he playing at? He knew his niece was in danger —that was why he’d sent me to look after her in the first place. He’d given me the number to use in case of emergency, but what the hell use was it if he never answered the fucking thing? Where could he be that was more important than what was happening right now?

I turned back around to find the faces of Kevin and Jupiter looking up at me expectantly.

Even though I thought of them as kids , they were older than that really—both eighteen, as was Emma (otherwise my attraction to her would be pretty fucked up). They could look after themselves.

Except at times like this , they couldn’t, and they still looked to me as the ‘grown-up’.

As I looked into the faces of Emma’ friends now, I knew they wanted me to tell them how we were going to fix this, to find their friend and make everything better. And it was borne in on me as never before that, with Sinjin out of the picture, there really was only me.

I was on my own and Emma’s life was in my hands.

FOUR

LAUCIAN

For all the innumerable useless people Sinjin had left me to look after in his fleet, there was at least one I actually respected.

Her name was Teri Fisher and she was Sinjin’s spy (he preferred the term ‘undercover agent’ but she was a spy). When I took over, Sinjin had left Teri to help me settle in.

“She will not be with you for long,” he’d explained, “so make the most of her while you can. She is smart and she knows how I run things.”

“Why on earth would I care about that?” I had asked, and Sinjin had smiled.

“You a re free to do things your way, Laucian—perhaps you will have more luck than I have. But use Teri. She is loyal, trustworthy and intelligent. But she is also doing another job for me which I want her to get back to as soon as you are settled.”

“What job?”

And Sinjin had moved on without even acknowledging I’d asked the question.

The bastard.

When I met Teri I was surprised to find she was everything Sinjin had promised. I could also see why he used her as a spy; Teri was the most ordinary looking person I’d ever met. It would be impossible to describe her appearance without using the word

‘average’. Ironic since, outside of her appearance, she was anything but average.

“Sinjin said that I haven’t got you for long,” I said casually when I first met her. “That you’ve got to go back to…” I waved a hand as if the name of her destination had temporarily escaped me.

Teri gave me a ‘ you’ll have to try harder than that ’ look, and shook her head.

That was all I knew about Teri’s assignment for Sinjin, until she came to see me that evening.

“Laucian? Are you busy?”

I sighed. I had planned an evening of watching trash TV, having spent yet another fruitless day trying to insight the bone idle passengers of this wretched fleet into some form of activity.

“Not at present. But keep it quick, Jersey Shore is on.”

Teri shook her head. “Man, this job beat you down even faster than Sinjin said it would.”

That was annoying. “Did you want something?”

Teri picked up the TV remote and turned it off. I realized that, for the first time since I had arrived on the Carpathia (excluding an assassination attempt against me), something of importance might actually be happening.

Seating herself opposite me, Teri took a deep breath. “I’m flying blind here, Laucian. Something has happened, someone needs to do something about it and that someone should be Sinjin, but he’s not here. It’s none of your business and I probably shouldn’t be telling you about it, but… I’m not cut out to tackle it on my own and I think you’re the only one here who is.”

“On this ship, that is hardly a surprise.”

“True. Look, I’m going to tell you something and if Sinjin kicks my ass for it then… well, I’ll just bend over and take it.”

“Is this about the… other job you are doing for him?” I guessed.

“Yeah.” She took another moment, still not sure she was doing the right thing. Then she breathed in deeply and exhaled just as deeply. “Okay, here’s the deal. About two years ago Sinjin pulled me off a job I was doing for him in Canada and, no, I’m not going to tell you what said job was. The important point is that he put me on a new assignment, the same one I’ve been on ever since.”

She paused. “It’s the most boring assignment in the world and I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t know how important it was to Sinjin.”

“Are we approaching a point?” I asked , frowning.

“Yes, I’m approaching my point,” Teri snapped. She had a sharp attitude I rather liked. “The job I’ve been hired to do is to watch Bryn, Sinjin’s ex, and Rowan, his daughter. It’s my job to see that no harm comes to them.”

“And that’s a boring job?” I wondered. “I understand Bryn Wilkins is something of a warrior.”

Teri shook her head. “Sinjin said you were out of touch and apparently that’s true.”

“Continue,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

“Bryn was a great warrior, but she gave all that up to be a Mom.

Even after the fall of the Underworld when any of the factions would have welcomed someone like her, she stuck to looking after Rowan and Queen Jolie’s daughter.”

“Emma.” I wanted to prove I wasn’t as out of touch as she thought.

“Yeah. So that’s been my job for two years. Watching an Elemental, an Elemental/vampire hybrid and the daughter of the Queen of the Underworld play house. Oh, and Mathilda, too, as she lives there with them. You’ve heard of her?”

“How out of touch do you think I am?” Everyone had heard of Mathilda. “So what’s the problem?”

“That’s the bit I’m probably not supposed to tell you,” said Teri, nervously rubbing her hands together. “The bit I’m definitely not supposed to tell you.”

“But tell me you will.”

She nodded. “A few weeks back, Bryn left Kinloch Kirk, leaving Rowan behind with Mathilda.”

“She left her daughter?” I frowned. “She must have been going somewhere dangerous.”

Teri gave me a look you’d give a dog that had learnt to beg.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“That I’m not telling you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not relevant.”

My mind skipped ahead a few steps. “Sinjin’s gone after her, hasn’t he? That’s where he’s run off to in such a hurry.”

Teri looked torn; unwilling to confirm what I had guessed, but knowing that in her silence she was already confirming it.

“He told me it was a family matter,” I went on. “Sinjin doesn’t have a lot of family.”

“Fine,” Teri admitted. “If it matters to you; Sinjin went after Bryn. He asked me to stay here to help you get your bearings and I assigned two agents of my mine—Bella and Xander, good people—to take over for me. It was supposed to be an easy job; nothing ever happens at Kinloch Kirk.”

“But?” I asked.

Teri looked up at me, her averagely brown eyes meeting my black ones. “Something happened.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“The Vryloka.”

I am a vampire with several centuries behind me and that comes with certain baggage. I have killed, I have drunk the blood of humans. Before ‘arrangements’ were made behind closed doors, before it was decreed that we should all be a bit more civilized, I did things that look like the unholy nightmares of Stephen King, Dean Koontz and Edgar Allan Poe combined. I am a vampire—a bloody past comes with the territory. But when Teri spoke, I felt a tremor pass up my spine. A child like Rowan would be defenseless against the Vryloka. And the child was part vampire—
did that mean the Vryloka would be able to turn her? Make her one of them?

“Thankfully, they attacked after dark,” Teri went on. “So Bella and Xander were able to help her.”

“The girl is alive?” I asked urgently.

“All of them are. Mathilda drove the Vryloka away.”

That was a relief, but Teri’s face didn’t look all that relieved.

“Bella and Xander said they were there for Rowan specificall y.

I’ve hired some Daywalkers—old friends of Sinjin’s—to cover the day shift, but none of them are up to the task of fighting off the Vryloka.”

“Sounds like Mathilda is and did.” I had heard great things about the Fae witch.

Teri’s eyes dropped to the rug. “Mathilda was badly drained by fighting off the Vryloka the first time. From what my agents have been able to find out, she may be dying.”

“What?” That seemed inconceivable. Fae died of course—eventually—
but, Mathilda?

“That’s the situation,” concluded Teri. “Rowan needs help. Right now she’s acting as carer to an elderly invalid while waiting for an attack by something against which she has no defense. Sinjin would never have left if he’d known something like this would happen, but I can’t get in touch with him and I’m not strong enough to take on the Vryloka alone. I could put together a squad

—I think I could more or less scrape up enough vampires who know how to fight—but drawing attention to Rowan is the last thing Sinjin wanted and may put her in danger from someone else. So I’ve come to you.”

“Reluctantly.”

“Very.”

I nodded. “Alright. I shall help.”

“Thank you.”

I nodded. “You take over here, and I shall leave for Kinloch Kirk post haste.”

Teri gaped. “You want me to run the fleet?”

I shrugged. “Frankly, it doesn’t take a lot of running. If you can do any good here, then you’re a better vampire than I am.”

“And what are you going to do at Kinloch Kirk?”

“I’m going to talk to them,” I replied. “I’m going to see how bad Mathilda is, gauge how much danger they’re in and take it from there. The smart thing might be to bring them both back here—at least here we can defend them. But, I want to see them first—it may not even be safe to move Mathilda, depending.”

Teri frowned. “I don’t see any way of doing that without letting Rowan know that Sinjin has been spying on her.” She paused. “And I swore to Sinjin I would never let that little tidbit out.”

“Well, now it must come out.”

“Sinjin wouldn’t want that!”

I shrugged. “Then he should have damn well been here, shouldn’t he?”

“Laucian…”

“Teri,” I held up a hand to silence her, “the choice is letting his daughter know he’s been watching her or letting his daughter die. Given this choice, I think he’ll probably be happy with the decision we’ve made.”

Teri slumped back. “Well… I don’t know about ‘happy’ but I guess he’ll have to live with it.” Then she inhaled deeply as she took a look around herself. “I’ll really be in charge here?”

“Yes. Best of luck with that.”

#

I genuinely thought my plan was the best way to help Rowan and Mathilda, but I won’t pretend I wasn’t also delighted to have an excuse to get off that damn ship. I’d arrived with such big ideas, but they really hadn’t panned out. Maybe I would try again when I returned.

Making all possible haste to Scotland, I felt as if a weight was lifting from my shoulders. I wasn’t glad that Sinjin’s daughter had been attacked, but it did feel good to be doing something real.

Even in the days of the Underworld, I had never visited Queen Jolie’s court at Kinloch Kirk. Though I wasn’t exactly anti-Underworld, it wasn’t for me. I had always seen the vampires as a noble race and above other creatures. I didn’t think we should be lumped in together with Fae, Elementals, Witches, Warlocks, flea-bitten werewolves, etc.

The end of the Underworld taught me a lesson. And I hoped I was man enough to admit when I was wrong and I was very wrong about the Underworld. It may not have been perfect, but one look at the world since its disintegration told me it had at least been worthwhile. Since its fall the various factions—vampires included

—had been reduced to bickering like children and killing each other for no reason. The dignity of vampirism in which I believed had been better represented by the vampires at Queen Jolie’s court than those on the Carpathia. We were better when we all worked together, and I was sorry it had taken the fall of the Underworld and the death of its noble Queen to make an old-fashioned fool like me realize that.

All of which is a long-winded way of saying; I had never been to Kinloch Kirk.

I was met by Bella and Xander, two young vampires (barely more than a century of life between them) who told me there had been no return of the Vryloka since the attack.

“We haven’t seen much of either of them,” Bella confided.

“Mathilda, we think, is too sick to walk, and Rowan is either afraid to leave her or just afraid to leave.”

I nodded. “Right. I’ll go and see them.”

Bella and Xander exchanged glances. They were both nervous about my doing something that went against Sinjin’s commands, but Teri had told them I was in charge and that was that.

“You might want to be careful,” said Xander.

I arched an eyebrow. “Of a child and a Fae who is too weak to stand?”

“She’s resourceful, sir. She’s Sinjin’s daughter.”

“And Bryn’s,” added Bella. “And you can tell.”

“I believe I will be fine.”

I decided to take the seaward route to the house, because it was the most exposed. I wanted them to see me coming, so it did not seem as if I was sneaking up on the place.

Suddenly, to my left, the ground erupted in an explosion of sand, sending me flying to the ground. Vampires are gifted with swift reflexes and I was able to roll as I hit and come up on my toes ready for anything, which was good because the ground opened up at my feet. I sprang back from the pit-trap, and peered cautiously in. The hole, I guessed, was stabilized with magic and sea water swept and sucked at the bottom, as if this hole in the ground had its own little tide. My guess was that if you fell in

, you would find yourself suddenly out at sea.

Now moving much more cautiously, I edged my way up the beach, alert to any other booby traps the resourceful Rowan Wilkins might have laid. It was just possible I might have underestimated this ‘child’.

On my next step , a creature sprung up from the sand in front of me. It stood about eight feet tall on broad, webbed feet, it had long ape-like arms with rangy muscles and its stomach was distended into a gross potbelly. Its mouth was wide and lined with three rows of tiny, but needle-sharp teeth. Its eyes were as yellow as bile and focused on me with a bloodthirsty stare. It looked like a nightmare.

Which was exactly what it was.

I had noticed immediately that while the creature seemed to emerge from the sand, the sand itself remained undisturbed. It was an illusion, dreamed up by someone who wanted to create as vile a monster as possible.

But, even though I knew it was an illusion, almost as soon as it appeared, an apparition like that leaping up in front of me was still enough to make me jump backwards. I felt the click beneath my heel as I landed and instantly dived for the ground, rolling away as the spring-loaded spikes leapt up from the beach to skewer me. If I had not been a vampire, with the supernatural speed of my kind, then I would have been kebabbed.

“I can see you! And I can kill you from here!” The voice that yelled at me from up ahead quavered a little with nervousness, but right now I was going to take it very seriously.

“I’d really prefer it if you didn’t!” I called back. “My name is Laucian, of the Transylvanian line. And I am a friend of your father’s”

“Why should I believe you?”

Now I could see the speaker; a girl of maybe fourteen or fifteen (I’m really not very good at guessing the ages of children), standing outside the house at the head of the beach, where it met the wood. I guessed she could see me more clearly than I could see her, using some sort of farseeing spell.

Or perhaps binoculars.

“I know who you are,” I said, rifling my mind for proof of my good intentions. “You’re Rowan Wilkins, daughter of Sinjin Sinclair and Bryn Wilkins, the first child of mixed vampire and Elemental heritage.”

“Everybody knows that,” Rowan scoffed.

“I know you were attacked here by a group of flying creatures and you barely escaped with your life. I can tell you more about them if you’d let me come closer and, you know, not kill me.”

“That could just as easily prove you’re in league with those creatures. You’ll have to do better than that. I’m armed you know.” Her words were tough, but I could hear the fear in her voice. She was a child who had been forced by circumstances to play the grown-up.

“I want to see if I can help you and Mathilda.”

This time she paused, but she remained wary. “You could just be saying what I want to hear. You said you knew my father. Prove it.”

I suddenly remembered what Teri had told me “I know he’s gone looking for your mother. If he hadn’t, then I’m sure he’d be here himself. Rowan, he never abandoned you. All this time he has had agents watching over you and watching out for you.”

There was a long silence from the direction of the house.

“Rowan?”

“Stay where you are.”

A wind blew up a cloud of dusty sand before me and through it I saw the small, slight figure of Rowan Wilkins as she walked towards me, weaving a path through the booby traps she must have spent days setting up.

When she reached me, I found myself looking at a petite, dark-haired girl with an earnest expression and vividly blue eyes.

“You have your father’s eyes,” I said.

“You don’t have to keep trying to convince me,” she answered in that tone children use when they think adults are being condescending. “Follow me. Step where I step or bad things will happen.”

“Did you do all this?” I indicated the booby traps I assumed lay all around us.

Rowan shook her head. “Mom put them in a long time ago. But, I’ll remind you that she made very sure I know how to activate them.”

“Activate them?” I asked.

“The traps are there all the time, but lying dormant,” Rowan explained, “They just need a spell to make them live.”

Bryn Wilkins had certainly guessed that something might come for her daughter. If only she had known when.

#

My initial plan had been to get Rowan and Mathilda away from here to somewhere safe—most probably the Vampire Coalition fleet. But that plan had to be abandoned as soon as I saw Mathilda.

I had never met the old Fae in person, but of course I knew of her and had heard the stories (practically legends). The person I saw before me now seemed a ghost of the indomitable figure of whom I had heard tell.

Mathilda lay in bed, propped up on pillows, her white hair haloed about her head. She looked tiny, like a porcelain doll and just as fragile. Her skin was as pale as chalk, and I could see the
pale blue veins just beneath the surface. Her slim fingers clasped the blankets that were pulled up to her chin, but I got the impression she barely had the strength even to hold them.

Vampires are not generally sensitive to magic (there are exceptions—there are always exceptions) but walking into the presence of someone like Mathilda, even a vampire feels the power, even if they cannot see the aura such a person generates.

But I felt nothing as I entered the little bedroom under the eaves of the roof, crammed with herbs, with bottles and potions, with books and pictures. It seemed as if everything that made Mathilda who she was had been drained away.

“Mathilda?” Rowan knelt beside the bed, taking one of the tiny hands in her own. She was keeping it together, but I could tell that seeing Mathilda like this wounded her deeply. “There’s someone here to help us.”

That had been the plan. But one look at Mathilda told me that there was no way I could move her. Did I know any Fae healers? Of course I didn’t. Since the fall of the Underworld, their kind and ours did not mix, and I had not had much time for them even before.

Mathilda’s eyelids fluttered up to reveal eyes that were almost white, they were so pale, and pink tinged about the edge.

“Master Laucian.” Her voice was barely a breath, but it came with a smile that seemed to light up the room.

“I am honored you have heard of me,” I said, with a bow.

“And you have come to help us?”

I looked down into the tiny wrinkled face. “I swear I will do everything in my power.”

I wondered if that would be enough.

FIVE

DUINE

It was another night when my sleep was disturbed by bad dreams.

I called them bad dreams, but while I was having them, they were the most wonderful part of my life. When I dreamed, I was happy.

Then I woke, and was forced to face the reality that the dreams weren’t real, the woman wasn’t real. She was an invention of my enemies, designed to weaken me.

I worried it might be working. The dreams continued to leave me feeling confused. They made me slow to make decisions and eroded my resolve. They made me feel . And for a leader of my ambition, there was nothing more dangerous.

If I could locate Mercedes, the Prophetess, then perhaps I could find the source of these dreams, and identify my attacker. But could I trust the woman who had offered to help me find Mercedes?

I smiled to myself.

That was a stupid question; of course I could n’t trust her. I was Duine, the Dark One, High Mage of the King’s Alliance, a man who made enemies as easily as others passed water. I didn’t trust anyone and certainly not an unknown woman I’d only met while she was wearing a mask.

She was fascinating , too.

Suspicious though she was, and though she no doubt had an agenda of her own, there was something about her that drew me and made me smile , once again. Perhaps it was the fact that she had another agenda that made her so interesting (even attractive) to me. I sensed a kindred spirit, someone as ruthless and opportunistic as I was. Which was nice, and something we might have in common, but if we were on different sides, then I wouldn’t hesitate to have her killed, and in the meantime, I had to be very cautious around her.

“You’re awake?” The voice came from the bed, from the woman who had been sleeping there.

“Couldn’t sleep.” I replied.

Since becoming High Mage of the King’s Alliance, my sex life had been an active one —no one dared refuse Duine, the Dark one. But another side-effect of the dreams had been that I’d lost interest in casual sex with meek, submissive women. I’d developed a particular aversion to blonde, blue-eyed women. Kaya was different. For starters, she had black hair and dark eyes, she was pretty enough, if somewhat skinny, but it was her attitude that made her one of the few women to whom I returned repeatedly.

She had first come to m y bedroom in the usual way; I’d spotted her and my guards had made arrangements. At first, she’d been as quietly cowed as any of my other bed-mates; doing as I commanded and submitting without question. But when I was finished with her, she looked up at me with those dark eyes and said, ‘ But I haven’t come yet ’.

No woman dared to speak to me like that. (Most of them, I assume, had no cause for complaint.) I could have lost my temper—she had dared to question the sexual prowess of Duine, High Mage of the King’s Alliance. But, instead, I laughed. Here was a woman who knew I could have her killed (or could kill her myself) simply on a whim. I could have had her thrown into the dungeons and tortured for such insolence—she wouldn’t have been the first.

And, yet, she’d still chosen to speak up and say she hadn’t been satisfied.

Perhaps on a different day , when I was in a different mood, the encounter might have ended very differently, and very unhappily for her. But, I found her attitude—somewhere between brazen courage and outright stupidity—oddly appealing.

‘ My apologies ,’ I said, ‘ permit me to rectify that .’ By the end of the night, she certainly had nothing to complain about.

From then on, while most women spent one or two nights in my bed, before I bored of them, Kaya became a semi-regular visitor, whom I would see at least once a month. I knew little about her; I believed she had a husband and children, but I wasn’t sure; she was of Fae ancestry, but I thought there was something else in the mix, as well; she’d been banished from Faery. I didn’t know why. And she somehow calmed me. She was, I supposed, the closest woman I had to a ‘lover’, rather than a mere sexual partner. How she felt about me, I didn’t know. Nor did it matter in the slightest.

“Bad dreams?” Kaya suggested.

“How did you know?”

She shrugged her thin shoulders. “A man like you is bound to have them. And you were tossing and turning earlier.”

“Did I say anything?” I asked eagerly.

“Say anything?”

“A name?” If I’d announced the identity of the dream woman or whoever was sending me the visions, that would save me dealing with Mercedes and the masked woman.

Kaya shook her head. “No. But it didn’t sound like a nightmare.

You sounded... happy.”

“Happy?” I shouldn’t have been surprised really.

Kaya nodded. “Happier than I’ve ever made you.”

I stood and returned to the bed. “You make me very happy.”

But Kaya shook her head. “I please you. I satisfy you. But, I don’t make you happy. If you’d asked me before, I would’ve said no woman could make you happy. But perhaps the one in your dream can.”

It was because she spoke to me like this, that I always came back to Kaya. She didn’t seem to be afraid of me. She should have been, but for now, I was willing to give her license.

I sat beside her and stroked my hand along the line of her body, beneath the sheets.

“I did wonder if I still pleased you. It’s been sometime since you… required me.” She said the words without any inflection, so I couldn’t tell if she was glad I’d summoned her, if she had hoped I was done with her, or if she was completely indifferent and the ‘relationship’ between us was merely convenient, because it afforded her some protection.

Following the dreams, even my appetite for Kaya had vanished. To be honest, I hadn’t really wanted to sleep with her tonight, but a High Mage has to keep up appearances, and she was the only woman whose presence I could stomach. We’d made love in a fairly perfunctory way and I doubted Kaya had climaxed. The fact that she’d not mentioned it told me she understood something was wrong.

I wasn’t sure how comfortable I was around a woman I knew so little about, but who knew me that well. One day I would probably have to kill her. It would be a wrench, but I was more than capable of it.

“Do you want to talk about the dreams?” asked Kaya.

“Talk?” That wasn’t something she and I did.

Kaya shrugged again. “I wouldn’t normally suggest it, but…” She reached out to toy with my flaccid member. “… it seems as if you’re not interested in anything else.”

Again, I allowed Kaya liberties I wouldn’t have tolerated from any other woman.

“I believe the dreams are being sent by my enemies.” It was the first time I’d said the words out loud.

“ Well , that’s no short list.” She might be careless in how casual she was around me, but she wasn’t stupid.

“No.”

“And the dreams… they’re about a woman?”

“Yes.”

“A woman you know? Someone from your past?”

“I don’t know.” My past was a closed book.

“Don’t know? Or don’t want to think about it?”

I was silent for a long time, wondering how much of myself I was prepared to reveal to this woman.

“ I ’d wondered if it might be my daughter.”

“I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Once again, her voice was blank. She wasn’t expressing an opinion, it was just a statement.

“There are those who do and who might use it against me.”

She nodded. “What’s the nature of the dreams? Because,” Kaya pulled a face, “from the noises you were making, I wouldn’t have guessed ‘daughter’.”

“They are,” I drew in breath, “… emotional.”

“Really?”

“Afterwards, I find myself feeling… different.”

“More emotional?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “Weaker.”

“Emotion doesn’t have to be weakness.”

“Nonsense!” I snapped. To have emotions was to open yourself to hurt, and that could only make you weak. I didn’t know why I felt as passionately about this as I did, but it was key to who I was.

“I suppose you know best,” said Kaya with a shrug. “Certainly, I know you will follow your own council, not mine. But I think you’re wrong, High Mage. It can take courage to open yourself and great strength to endure the consequences. Emotions give a person something to fight for.”

I snorted. “I’ ve never lacked something to fight for.”

“Anything you really care about, though?” asked Kaya. “You fight for power and status, but would you die for it?”

“Of course not! Where would be the point?”

“Well, there you are,” said Kaya, as if the argument was won. “If there’s nothing in your life you would die for, then maybe there’s nothing in your life worth fighting for. And you just fight because you don’t have anything else. There are things in my life I would die for and worse. Things I would do anything, go to any lengths, to protect. I don’t think that makes me weak.”

Was that a hint at why she was here with me? Was sleeping with me one of the ‘lengths’ she went to? Being ‘Duine’s woman’ gave her a level of protection that presumably extended to her family, as well. I didn’t know enough about her past to know what she might need protection against, but there might well be something, and being my lover was the price she paid.

Perhaps.

It didn’t really matter to me.

“Let’s go back to the… woman in your dreams,” suggested Kaya. “I can definitely see how your daughter could be used to make you more emotional—there’s no stronger bond. Is this mystery woman in danger in the dreams?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Have you spoken to your daughter about them? I appreciate that might be awkward, given the nature of the dreams but…”

“No.” I shook my head. “We don’t speak.”

“All the easier for someone to use her against you. Or at least her image. Maybe they use her image, but in a different context.

So the image of your daughter produces the emotional response and the context the physical one.”

It was strange to talk like this with anyone, least of all Kaya, but it was useful too. She was able to say things I didn’t like to think about myself.

“Where is your daughter?” Kaya asked.

“She is away at school. In America.”

Kaya nodded. “Maybe you should see if she’s okay? Maybe you should ask her about the dreams? I’m not saying she’s responsible, but… I’m guessing your daughter must have some magical ability. Maybe she’s getting revenge on an absent father?

Maybe she’s projecting her dreams into yours and doesn’t even know it.” She lay back on the bed. “Or maybe not. Who knows? I’m only guessing here.”

They were guesses, but they weren’t ridiculous. And they weren’t impossible. I checked in at Emma’s school about once a month. But I had let that slip for… maybe two or three months now, assuming they would let me know if there was a problem. Emma wasn’t really a part of my life. She had used to be, but… it was vague—the past was always vague.

All I knew was that Emma had been raised by the bitch Bryn, when I became High Mage. And, thus, I hadn’t seen Emma for some time.

“You’re right.”

“If nothing else, you should call your daughter,” yawned Kaya, rolling over in bed. “She’s your daughter.”

I picked up the phone. I had no intention of calling Emma, but I would call her school, and make certain she was alright.

The school took a long time to pick up, and I wondered if I had got the time difference wrong.

“Hello?” The voice sounded… frantic? Panicked? Strange.

“Hello, I want to speak to someone about my daughter, Emma Balfour.”

“Emma…?” Just from the man’s tone, there was obviously something wrong. “Just a moment.” There was a lot of hissing and whispering in the background I couldn’t make out.”

“Mr. Balfour… High Mage… I… Something has happened.”

It would be difficult to put into words what was going on inside me as the man described as best he could, an attack that had taken place at Elmington, culminating in what seemed to be the kidnap of my daughter.

“We don’t know exactly what happened, High Mage,” the man was guilty and groveling. “We’re still trying to find out. We don’t even know who attacked or if your daughter was the target—she’s not the only one missing…”

“Of course, she was the target!” I snapped. “She is my daughter and I don’t give a stuff about who else is missing!”

Kaya sat up in bed to listen, a worried look on her pretty face.

“Yes, High Mage. We will keep you informed of…”

I hung up the phone. The rough, unformed emotions that my dreams had started to awake inside me had now been given sharper form. I barely noticed the existence of my daughter but the idea of her kidnap…

I touched my face. I was crying.

“Duine…” Kaya came to me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

I didn’t know what to say to her, but I allowed her to remain, a silent comfort.

What now? To my surprise, there was a large part of me that now wanted to race off in pursuit of my daughter. I wanted to commit every resource I had to finding her. But now was not the time for that. There was too much at stake here, at home. My imperial ambitions, the destiny of the King’s Alliance to take over all the factions with me as the new Emperor of a remade Underworld—
none of it allowed for any delay. There were plans already in motion, I still had to think about Nyx and the hated Pagan, as well as other revolutionaries. I was High Mage Duine, not a father.

But the thought of Emma in trouble cut me deeper than I would have imagined it could. I had never felt such a surge of emotion before. At least… not that I could remember.

If I went to help Emma, then I stood to lose everything I’d worked for—my enemies would be sure to take advantage of my
absence and my weakness. It was probably one of them who had orchestrated this kidnap and by going to save her, I would be playing right into their hands.

But, if I did nothing, I might never see Emma again. Of course, I’d not seen her for years, but suddenly the idea of never seeing her again made my heart feel as if it were in a vice.

Had this been the plan all along? The dreams put me in a heightened emotional state and then the kidnap hit me when I was vulnerable ?

Kaya wiped the tears from my eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on.

But, I believe you know what you have to do.”

I looked at her and nodded. I did know what had to be done.

Getting up off the bed and pulling on a robe, I went to the door and called for the guards who hurried in.

“Take this woman away and put her in a cell.”

Kaya ’s eyes started wide and she paled with terror. “But… No!

You can’t do this!”

I answered with flinty resolve. “Of course, I can. Have you forgotten who I am?”

I listened to her screams as she was dragged away, begging me for mercy. I felt more guilt than I would have anticipated—another legacy of the damned dreams—but, I was still Duine, still cold, hard and ruthless. She’d seen me cry, we’d talked like friends and I’d revealed weaknesses to her that my enemies couldn’t know about. Really, I should have had her killed. Eventually she would have to die, but… Damn the dreams, they made me feel and made it hard to kill even this one meaningless…

I had to find Mercedes. Once I was rid of these dreams, I would be myself again and then Kaya would die and I would feel no remorse.

As for Emma… A battle raged inside me between the increasingly divided sides of my nature.

A battle for the soul of Rand Balfour.

SIX

STONE

“What now, Professor Draper?”

I looked at the two expectant faces of Emma’s friends. “Now, I find Emma, and you two go back to being students.”

“We’re not abandoning Emma,” said Kevin, stoutly.

“She’s our best friend,” Jupiter added. “And we can help you.”

They probably could—they were smart, and I was feeling dumb as a brush right now. But I’d already lost one person in my care.

Somehow, I’d managed to keep these two safe in the face of some pretty nasty shit, I wasn’t going to endanger them any further.

“No,” I said firmly. “Thank you for your help, but I’m not putting you in danger again. I can find Emma alone.” I wished I felt as confident as I sounded.

“We’re not just going to go away because you tell us to,” replied Kevin.

“This isn’t up for debate.”

“Then maybe you ought to remember that we know stuff about you the school might like to know,” the kid went on, slyly. “Like you’re a vampire, that you came here to spy on a pupil, and that you’ve been making out with her.”

“If you don’t take us with you and let us help,” added Jupiter,

“then we’ll go straight to the headmaster with all that, you’ll lose your job and what will Sinjin think of that?”

Dammit , I thought to myself. Out loud, I said, “Well, I guess I’ll just have to find another job, because you two aren’t coming with me, and every moment you spend trying to convince me otherwise is a moment I could have spent looking for Emma.”

“And how are you even planning on finding her?” asked Kevin.

Leave it to him to ask the question I couldn’t even begin to answer. But, as he spoke, the solution came stumbling around the corner in the shape of a mostly naked man, who had wrapped the school flag about his waist to hide his junk from sensitive students.

I turned back to Kevin with a look of triumph on my face. “I’m going to ask a werewolf.”

When werewolves are first bitten—when they first become a werewolf—then waking up nude and confused is pretty much how it goes. It takes a few months of living with the wolf inside you for the two parts of your nature to shake hands and introduce themselves. Your human side has to get used to the fact that every full moon, whether it likes it or not, it’s going to get all hairy, go down on all fours and started howling.

The n they wake up the next morning in a bush with no clothes and a massive headache. After this initial breaking-in period, they learn to control the wolf a bit better; they can change whenever they want and can even choose not to change during a full moon,
if they really concentrate. Most importantly, the wolf and the human merge to become of one mind, so the human can remember what they’ve done while in wolf form and the wolf will refrain from chasing rabbits, and will remember where he put his clothes.

The werewolf who stumbled around the corner now gave the impression of being new to the game, but I didn’t think that was a problem.

“Hi,” I stopped him. “I’m Stone Draper and I work here. You’re a werewolf, yes?”

The man looked at me with hapless confusion. “What the fuck just happened to me?”

“How long have you been a werewolf?”

“Six… maybe seven years.”

“And it doesn’t usually hit you like this?”

The man shook his head, blankly. “Was I in the shape of the wolf?

I don’t even remember changing.”

“What, exactly, do you remember?” I asked, sharply.

“Where am I?”

“Salem.”

“How the fuck did I get here?”

“Would you mind focusing on my questions? A girl’s life is at stake.”

“What girl?”

The poor guy had no idea what had happened to him and I sympathized, but time was against me—I needed to get moving fast.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and he gathered his flag more tightly around him.

“Would you know where I can get hold of some clothes?”

“Shut up and listen,” I ordered him and to his credit, he listened. “You were possessed by something that… to this point is an unkown. From the sound of it, you were possessed in human form and then turned into a wolf. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Having a drink with the pack.” Werewolves were social animals, whether human or wolf.

“And then you woke up here?”

“Uh-huh.” The man looked around. “Salem? Really? That’s in Massachusetts right?”

“Ten out of ten for geography. Do you remember anything else in between?”

The man shook his head, then paused. “I mean… No, but… ‘Remember’

is a strong word.”

“It really isn’t.”

“I don’t think I remember anything clear, but there are some images and…” He shook his head. “It’s like trying to recall a dream, there are just random bits and pieces and I don’t know what any of them mean.”

“Tell me.” They might mean as little to me as to him, but maybe there was some sort of clue buried within the random details.

The man took a deep breath and screwed up his face in an effort to search his mind. “I remember… blue . Like a mist, maybe? A blue light. A flash. And then… voices I think.”

“Do you remember what they said?”

“No. But they weren’t… American voices. I mean, they weren’t speaking a language I recognized.”

“Speaking a foreign language then?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I mean… it was English. But like… old English. Maybe it was a British accent? But not one of the fruity ones. Rougher.”

“Okay, anything else.”

“I saw a swamp.” More seemed to be coming back to him as he tunneled into his memories. “Filthy place. Strange creatures—
monsters you could call them. Just thinking about it gives me the willies.”

Weird thing for a werewolf to say but, okay.

“Keep going, this is helpful,” I lied.

“Anger,” the man said. “Hatred. I could feel it, but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t mine. I felt… trapped. And then… relief, excitement, freedom. Rushing wind on my face. Open spaces. No swamp here. And…”

“What?” I urged, as he seemed to have stalled.

“A bird.”

“A bird?”

“A black bird.”

“A blackbird.”

“No. A black… bird. Like a crow or something.” His eyes were glazing now, as if by going into his memories he’d uncovered a wormhole to something else. It could be dangerous to let him go further, but I needed to know more.

“Keep going.”

“Stones. Standing stones beneath a night sky. More black birds.

Blood. Screams. So much death. And the birds picked the scraps of flesh. The birds…”

“What about them?” I couldn’t guess what the man was seeing.

“The many who are three.” Clearly he didn’t even know what he was saying any more, drawing on some residual sense memory of the creature that had inhabited him. “The three who are one.”

Suddenly the werewolf’s body went rigid. He threw out his arms, the flag dropping from him, leaving him naked as he appealed to the sky, his eyes wild and distant as if he were looking into the past. “Nemain! Macha! Badb!”

That was disappointing; as far as I was concerned he was talking gibberish, and in the next moment , he fell to the ground.

“Bloody hell,” I grumbled.

I stooped to make sure he was still breathing (he was). Well, it hadn’t been a complete waste of time. I knew there was some British connection, maybe a sacrifice. But it sure as hell didn’t tell me where to look for Emma.

Then I became aware of whispering behind me, Kevin and Jupiter—
still stubbornly hanging around—were talking about something in low voices.

“You’re sure?” said Kevin.

“I’ve still got the course notes,” Jupiter nodded.

“I thought I told you two to go,” I said, sternly.

“You should be grateful we didn’t,” said Kevin, throwing his hands on his hips as he glared at me. “We can help you. Or, at least, Jupe can. Do you know what those words he said mean?”

I had to admit I didn’t. “I thought he was just shouting nonsense.”

Jupiter shook her head. “They are the three names of an ancient Celtic goddess called the Morrigan. The triple goddess, also
known as the Specter Queen. Goddess of war and fate, protector of her people and their homeland.”

“Who were her people?” I asked.

“The Druids,” Jupiter replied. “The Celts generally, I suppose.

But the Druids specifically and particularly, one group that emerged during the second Roman Invasion.”

“Second?” History was n’t my strong point.

“The Romans invaded Britain under Julius Caesar, but they didn’t stick around long—they didn’t really want Britain…”

“Who could blame them?” muttered Kevin.

“They just liked conquering stuff,” Jupiter continued. “Then, there was a second invasion under the Emperor Claudius. That’s when the Romans really conquered it. There was a lot of resistance and the Druid Revolt was a part of that resistance, led by a powerful Druid leader called Cormag. His name means

‘Raven’s Son’.”

“Ravens, huh?” Black birds that eat flesh. “What happened to these Druids? The Romans killed them?” I asked.

Jupiter shook her head. “Not as far as anyone knows. I mean; history doesn’t record everything, but the Romans usually wrote down all about their victorious campaigns and there’s no record of what happened with the Druid Revolt. The Druids were pinned down in the South West of England and then they just vanished.”

“They just vanished?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s what history records?”

“I’m guessing there are some legends about what actually happened to them,” Kevin added. “There are always legends and they sometimes come closer to the truth.”

“It’s not a nice legend,” said Jupiter.

“They seldom are, ” I agreed.

“The Druids practiced human sacrifice,” Kevin explained. “And I imagine they got pretty good at it.”

“I’m a vampire. I’m hardly in a position to judge.”

“The revolt was based around a place called Avebury,” Jupiter went on. “I think that’s the name. They sacrificed some Roman captives there then they walked to another sacred site nearby (can’t remember the name… Something ‘Hill’). Then…” she swallowed uncomfortably, “they cut their own throats.”

I took this in. “Well, that should have ended their revolt.”

“Except for the fact that the legend says their bodies were never found.”

I looked down at the werewolf on the ground, who was now beginning to stir back to consciousness. “I imagine the black birds had a feast.” Then I looked back at Jupiter, pleased she was such a good student. “Why did they do all this?”

“They were doomed,” said Kevin. “They were going to lose.”

“Not sure I would call cutting my own throat a win.”

“Cormag was said to be a master of the dark arts,” said Jupiter.

“And it was rumored he could summon the gods. Particularly, the Morrigan. Apparently he made a deal that would allow the Druids to pass into another world and then return to this one some day.”

I considered this. “I don’t suppose the legend is specific about this other world?”

“No,” Jupiter replied. “But the Druids also worshipped Gwyn ap Nudd, also called the King of the Sidhe Fae.”

“You’re saying these things could have been in Faery all this time?” Faery was a big place, but I felt like someone would have noticed a bunch of undead Druids hanging around for hundreds of years.

“Gwyn ap Nudd was also called Lord of the Underworld,” added Kevin.

“How many names do these people need?”

“No one knows what this Underworld is exactly. Something that’s been forgotten with time. But perhaps there is a place like death, but not death,” Jupiter said.

She had a way with words and I half-expected a roll of thunder after ‘ like death but not death ’.

It wasn’t like this gave me map coordinates to Emma’s location, but it gave me a possible final destination for these bastards.

It also gave me something to worry about—it was too much to hope that the Druids had abandoned their taste for human sacrifice in the last few hundred years.

“Avebury.” I nodded to myself. “Can you get me an address? I’ll get myself on the next flight to the UK.”

Jupiter nodded.

“One ticket,” I added, in case there was some confusion.

This time they didn’t argue; they knew they’d helped, and they knew I knew they’d helped. That was enough.

I got out my phone to book the flights, but as I took it out of my pocket the phone began to ring: ‘Unknown number ’.

Could it be Sinjin? It would be a bad conversation, but at least I would have something to tell him more than just; ‘your niece has been kidnapped’.

I answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” the voice was British, but it wasn’t Sinjin. “Am I speaking to Stone Draper?”

“Yeah. Who is this?” I didn’t give out my number to many people.

“This is Emma Balfour’s father.”

My jaw hit the floor.

SEVEN

JOLIE

There weren’t words. How could there be? There were no words that could possibly describe how I felt seeing Bryn again, touching her, holding her in my arms. And seeing my old friends , Sinjin and Odran. It was as though the last ten years of my life had never been—as if no time had gone by at all.

All the heartache and hardship of the last ten years vanished in the pure delight of that meeting. Tears flowed, but they were tears of joy. We did n’t dwell on the time that had been lost, but rejoiced in the fact that we were all together again, even if we were in the Abyss. I had a thousand questions to ask of course.

“Emma’s great,” Bryn confirmed, nodding as the permanent smile refused to leave her face. “She’s a student at Elmington. Magic doesn’t come easily to her, but…”

“But she’s happy?” I couldn’t have cared less if she was a natural to magic or not.

Bryn nodded. “She’s happy. She has good friends. But she’ll be a lot happier when we bring her mom back home to her.”

“She won’t even remember me.” I had thought about it a lot over the last ten years.

“She remembers,” Bryn replied. “She thinks about you every day.”

“And she’s safe?” The world I’d left behind wasn’t the one to which I’d be returning, and I didn’t know how safe it was.

“I have sent someone to watch over her,” replied Sinjin.

“Yes, he has.” There was a streak of acid in Bryn’s tone and I noticed a hard look pass between the two of them. Since their arrival, I’d seen a distance, even a distaste, between my sister and Sinjin, a distance I couldn’t have imagined before. They’d always been such a strong couple, for all their volatile natures.

Clearly something had happened between them that I’d have to learn about.

“And Rowan?” I asked.

“She’s fine,” Bryn answered quickly.

I swallowed hard. This next question was one I was reluctant to ask, though I wasn’t sure why. “Rand?”

This time it was a different type of look that passed between Bryn, Sinjin and Odran.

“He’s doing… well,” Bryn confirmed, but there was a look in her eyes that said otherwise. “Carved out quite a life for himself.”

Clearly, t here was something my sister wasn’t telling me, but I could tell by her expression that it was something I should ask her about in private. And that meant it would have to wait.

Besides, there was so much more I wanted to know; about Rowan, about Mathilda, Mercedes, Dureau and Klassje—all my old friends.

I wanted to know about the Underworld itself, how my kingdom had fared without me and who ruled it now.

Sometimes I got full, detailed replies (Mathilda remained in Kinloch Kirk with Rowan, who was growing up fast; Dureau and Klassje had adopted a child and were raising it) but other areas they passed over quickly, omitting most details. It was inevitable that bad as well as good had happened in my absence—
such was life—but they were loath to touch on the bad. I let them keep the truth from me, for now at least. I didn’t want anything to spoil the joy of the reunion, and the taste of freedom it promised. Because if they’d been able to get into the Abyss, then it stood to reason there was a way out.

One question loomed above all others, one that had troubled me for ten years. “Do you know how I ended up down here?”

Bryn shot a vicious look at Sinjin.

“I can only tell you what I know,” Sinjin answered, taking a step towards me. “I will tell you the truth as I know it and you will have to make up your mind whether or not to believe me.” Then he looked over at my sister. “One of you has already made up her mind.”

Bryn looked away as Sinjin spoke, and I realized that whatever was between them was more than an argument . It actually… it
didn’t seem like they were even together anymore. Was this because of me? My disappearance? “Okay,” I said, facing Sinjin.

“When we went to rescue Rowan from the Fir Darrig in Faery, everything did not go exactly as planned,” Sinjin started and then looked down, as if he were ashamed of something. “And things did not go exactly as I told you. We found Rowan at the Darrig’s Ice fortress in the fringes of Faery, but the Fir Darrig was not going to let us leave with her. There was a stand-off between him and me.” He paused. “I am not certain what I might have done if it had come to a fight. The idea of Rowan getting into that creature’s hands again…”

“But it didn’t come to fight,” Bryn interrupted.

Sinjin nodded. “Instead, the Darrig offered a deal.”

“Whit deal?” asked Odran, who seemed quite caught up in Sinjin’s story , as if this was his first time hearing it.

“The Darrig said I could take Rowan, but only for a price.”

“Me?” I asked. If I’d known then, I would have given myself up to the Fir Darrig in a heartbeat.

But Sinjin shook his head. “No… Well… Yes. I suppose. But that was not what the Darrig said!”

“What did it say?” snapped Bryn. I got the impression she’d heard all this before and had already dismissed it.

“The Darrig said all it wanted was one of Rowan’s blood,” Sinjin went on. He spoke like a man who regretted every word, but knew it was too late to change anything. “He said I could leave with Rowan, but that one day he would come back for her blood.” Sinjin shook his head. “I thought he meant me. Everything about the way he said the words… Looking back on it, I am certain he wanted me to believe as much. I have to wonder if that was his plan all along. To use Rowan to get to the Queen of the Underworld. The Darrig knew that if he had told me what he actually wanted, I would never have agreed to it, not even for Rowan’s sake would I betray my Queen.” He looked up at me. “And my friend . But because I thought the Darrig meant me, I made the deal, and I left with a light heart, knowing I saved Rowan, not ever dreaming what I had actually agreed to.”

Odran shook his head. “A deal made wi’ a Fae is binding. Ye may not break it.”

Sinjin nodded. “It was only when the Darrig came for you, Jolie, that I realized what I had done. What I had doomed you to. But it was never my intention.” He paused. “And of course we searched for you.”

“Aye, high an’ low,” Odran added.

“In Faery and on this plane,” Bryn added.

“But I was in the Abyss and you couldn’t find me… until now,” I figured out the rest.

“Right,” Bryn said. Then she looked at Sinjin with that expression of anger. “As to Sinjin’s story, of course you only have his word to go on,” she finished, frowning all the while.

Sinjin looked at her. “There was a time when my word was enough for you.”

Bryn met his stare. “That was before you doomed my sister to this hellish place. Before you tore her from me and from her family for ten years! And I still don’t believe any of it. The Fir Darrig was powerful as hell, it had no reason to do any sort of deal with you. It could have killed you and taken Rowan.”

“It did not want Rowan,” Sinjin insisted, narrowing his eyes.

“She was always a ploy. The Darrig wanted Jolie.”

“Why would some bad-tempered Fae want Jolie?” Bryn demanded.

“It is not as though the Darrig told me his plans,” Sinjin snapped. “It is a dark Fae not a James Bond villain.”

“You never used to know who James Bond was,” I commented. I was a deal more calm about this than my sister was.

“I have had some time on my hands,” said Sinjin.

“The Unseelie Court may ha’ wanted to destabilize Underworld,”

said Odran, nodding. “Which is why the queen was so imperative to the Darrig’s plan. Removing her would be the only way to end the Underworld.”

“That’s guesswork.” Bryn dismissed the idea.

“Nae,” Odran shook his head. “Ah’ve spent much o’ the last ten years stamping out the Unseelie Court. Or at least doing mah best. When the Underworld fell, they were well-prepared for a fight. They saw it coming. Ah would certainly believe the Fir Darrig threw Jolie in here.”

“The Underworld fell?” I felt as if the bottom had fallen out of my world. I just… I couldn’t believe it. Everything we’d worked so hard for… gone. Gone?

“Oh…” Odran looked guilty. “Sorry, your Majesty. Ah didnae mean to spring the news on ye quite that sudden. But… aye.”

“Sinjin was alone with the Darrig,” said Bryn, returning to her main point. “We don’t know what happened. I think it threatened to kill him and he took the deal to save his own life. Maybe Rowan’s too.” She took a breath and then shook her head. “But
that’s not the point! He sold you out without a second thought.

He never even warned you.”

I shook my head. “That doesn’t sound like the Sinjin I know.”

Bryn’s face stayed hard. “A lot of things have changed”

Suddenly this was no longer the reunion I’d longed for.

Sinjin sighed. “I can only tell you what happened, as I have been telling you for ten years. If you do not believe me now, then…” I could see the hurt in his face. “… then I suppose you never will.”

Though there was still anger in her face, Bryn looked just as hurt. “I suppose not.”

“Umm… Excuse me?” Morse had been seated silently nearby throughout this discussion, presumably not understanding a great deal of it. “Sorry tae interrupt. But what are we goin’ tae do now?”

Odran looked from face to face. “Leave?”

The prospect seemed more than I could possibly hope for. “Can we really just… go?”

“We go back the way we came,” said Sinjin. “I do not see why it should be difficult.”

Morse laughed. But it was a hollow, humorless sound. “Clearly, ye havenae been in the Abyss for long. It isnae so easy tae leave.

It isnae so easy tae find the way out. Exits dinnae stay still, and they dinnae stay open. I daresay Jolie and I will be glad o’

the company, but ye may be here with us for a while.”

“The hell with that.” In one sentence, Bryn reminded me of one of the reasons I missed her so much. She never lay down, never said die, never gave up. Now she was here, I felt sure we would get out, and soon.

“Ah may be able tae find a way out,” said Odran. “The Abyss is a Fae realm, a province o’ Faery. Ah may not have direct control over it, but it is part o’ mah kingdom , so Ah am nae without power down here.”

This was what I’d missed—being part of a team. Though I’d been Queen, and the buck eventually stopped with me, I always had a council of advisors who were also my friends. I’d never felt alone, and it was good to, once again, feel the support of others.

“Right,” I said with a quick nod. “What are we waiting for? Lead the way, King Odran.”

Odran smiled that big, broad grin of his. “It would be mah pleasure, Queen Jolie.”

“Am I coming too?” The captured Veit (whose name, Bryn had told me, was Glottle) put up his hand. “Because if you don’t need me…”

“We will release ye when we are safely out o’ this place,” said Morse sternly.

“And nae before,” added Odran as he looked around himself. “This is a dangerous area, filled with beasties. Ye may be use to us yet.”

“Would ye like me tae take him?” asked Morse, clearly wanting to be of help.

“Thanks,” nodded Odran. He took the lead with me beside him.

“Whit was the man’s name again?” he whispered aside to me.

“Morse,” I replied. “He’s been my only friend down here.”

“Well Ah’m glad ye had someone,” nodded Odran. “And Ah’m sure he’s a brave and bonnie lad. But whit a ridiculous accent. Ah dinnae know how ye understand a word he says.”

#

The creatures of the Underworld seemed less frightening now than they had, partly because they all seemed nervous of Sinjin. They might be big and ugly, but he was a Master Vampire and carried with him that dark charisma that all creatures respected and feared. It was good to see him again, but to see things so deteriorated between him and Bryn made my heart ache.

I didn’t know the details, but the way they acted towards each other made me think they were no longer a couple at all. I wondered where that left poor Rowan. Thank goodness Emma had her father to look after her.

Still, I couldn’t help feeling a bit responsible for the situation between Bryn and Sinjin—since I had clearly been in the center of it. It wasn’t as if I’d wanted to be kidnapped, but that kidnapping was certainly what had led to this, and even if I believed every word Sinjin said, it was clear Bryn didn’t. She’d spent a decade believing something different and I guessed it was tough to change now. If the situation was reversed, then perhaps I would’ve been the same. When something terrible happens to you, like the loss of a sister, you need someone to blame. Bryn was a warrior, and she was used to having something to fight—when life kicked her, she kicked back. But when I vanished, there had been no one to fight, so she’d turned on Sinjin.

At least, that was how it seemed to me, but maybe it wasn’t my place to take sides.

Even if she came around now and started to believe what Sinjin said; would it make any difference? Would Sinjin be able to forgive her for blaming him for all these years? Would she be able to forgive herself?

I found myself more worried about my sister’s love life than about the horrors of the Abyss.

“There it is!” We’d been walking a while at a brisk pace as we approached a dark tunnel.

“This isn’t where it was before, is it?” asked Sinjin, frowning.

Odran shook his head. “Your man, Morse, was quite correct in that respect. The exits dinnae seem tae stay still. But a King o’ the Fae can sense them. Come, mah Queen. We’re taking you home.”

The rush of excitement and happiness burst up from inside me as I approached the exit, and was then overwhelmed in a tide of despair as I found myself unable to go any closer.

“Jolie?” Bryn hurried to my side.

“I can’t move,” I confessed.

“Sinjin,” Bryn said as she turned to face him.

They each took one of my hands and tried to tug me towards the exit, but it was no use. I took a step backwards. That was no trouble, but I couldn’t move forward, I couldn’t leave.

“I can’t move!” I said in a panicked whisper. I didn’t want to break down in front of my friends and rescuers, but I couldn’t help it. My legs buckled under me and Morse was there to catch me as I went down.

“Dinnae cry. We’ll find a way. Ah swear it.” His soothing voice made me feel better, and his strong arms around me took away some of the pain.

“Nothin’ is ever easy,” commented Odran.

“What’s wrong?” Bryn snapped. “Why can’t she leave?”

“The Darrig has tethered her tae this place,” said Odran, shaking his head. “Ah should have guessed the creature would do sich a thing.”

“What can we do?” asked Sinjin.

“You can leave,” I said, quietly. “I won’t deny Rowan her parents.”

“We’re not leaving without you,” Bryn replied instantly as she turned to face me and her expression was hard.

“And we are leaving with you,” said Sinjin. “There is always a way. We have fought against worse odds than this in our time and there is always a way. Odran?”

The Fae king shrugged. “Aye, well. On the face o’ it, ‘tis simple. She’s tethered—we break the tether.”

“How?” asked Morse.

“Somewhere,” Odran went on, thoughtfully. “Will be the tethering point. A magic node o’ some description. Well protected , Ah would imagine, but that need nae be a problem for us. The finding of it will be the tricky bit.”

“Wait.” It was Morse who spoke up. “This ‘Fir Darrig’ you’re talking about … Do ye think it lives down here?”

Odran shook his head firmly. “Ah cannae imagine that. It put Jolie down here, so it could pursue power elsewhere. It could hardly rule Faery from down here.”

“So,” Morse reasoned, “the Darrig must have—for want o’ a better word— outsourced guarding the tether to someone local.”

“The Veits?” suggested Jolie.

“Veits dinnae work with out a commander,” said Odran. “If the Fir Darrig isnae down here, then there must be someone else telling them whit tae do.”

Morse looked at me. “Ah’ve always wondered where Orsik got his power from. Wizards are so rare. What if he made a deal o’ his own with this Fir Darrig?”

“Orsik is the main power in the Underworld,” I explained to the others. “He’s the one who sent Morse down here.”

“Why?” asked Sinjin, instantly suspicious, as was his way.

“Long story,” said Morse dismissively, and I wondered again why it was a long story he still hadn’t shared with me.

“If nothing else, it’s a good place to start,” I said, already feeling better , now that we had a plan.

“Do we know where to find this Orsik?” asked Bryn.

“We don’t,” I admitted. “But I think you’ve brought along someone who does.”

Glottle made a face. “He’ll be ever so, ever so, angry with me.”

Odran walked up to the Veit. “Aye, he may be. But he’s nae here and Ah am. Do ye want tae see me angry?”

The Veit shook its head.

“Then let’s make a start. There’s a lot o’ walking ahead,” Odran said.

As we set out again, Bryn walked beside me and took my arm, holding me to her as if afraid she might lose me again. I wanted to talk to her about Sinjin, but sensed this wasn’t the time.

Besides, there was something else I needed to ask, even if I was afraid of the answer.

Bryn , I reached out with my mind, delighted to be able to talk to her like this again.

She looked over at me. I can’t tell you how good it sounds to hear your voice in my head again.

I smiled. Me too. Then I took a deep breath. When I asked about Rand, you kind of side-stepped the question.

She nodded and looked down. There are some things that are easier to tell you than others.

It was my turn to nod. Today’s been a rollercoaster. I’ve had the best possible news in seeing you all again, and some pretty devastating news… like learning I still can’t leave this shit-hole. Whatever you have to tell me about Rand, I can take it, and I need to hear it .

Bryn’s eyes fell. I’ve been dreading this.

Please.

The short version is… Rand went off the deep end after you vanished.

So, did I.

No, she said and shook her head. Not like this. I understand grief and pain, but what happened to Rand… He’s changed completely. I don’t think he even remembers… who you are.

I could feel myself frowning as my stomach felt like it was caving in on itself. Not remember me?

He’s never mentioned your name in years and before he and I had our falling out, when I mentioned you, he just… he got this vacant look in his eyes like he had no idea who I was talking about.

How is that even possible ?

Dark magic? I don’t know, for sure. Maybe it’s simply insanity?

I shook my head. Rand has been through enough in his very long life that insanity wouldn’t be a concern.

Right. I don’t think he’s insane, either. I think… I think he’s done something to himself. Something to numb the pain. Something that… completely changed him.

Changed him how?

She shrugged. Now he calls himself Duine and he’s High Mage of the King’s Alliance.

The King’s Alliance?

She nodded. Yes, it’s this group of witches who refuse to refer to themselves as such. He’s dedicated to the pursuit of power and he basically won’t stop for anything until he’s in supreme control of all magic users.

I could barely believe my ears. Rand? Is this the same man we’re talking about?

She looked at me and I could see the pity in her eyes. I don’t know what happened to him, Jolie, but he’s not the same man. He’s a shell of the man Rand was.

I couldn’t bear to think about it—about what he’d become and why or how. Instead, I thought of my daughter. What about Emma?

Surely he couldn’t forget me when she was there as a constant reminder?

I could see the pain in Bryn’s face before I heard her thoughts.

I took Emma in and I raised her, Jolie. Ever since she was a little girl. I raised her alongside Rowan and the two of them are like sisters.

Then Rand isn’t a part of her life?

She shook her head. No, and he hasn’t been for a very long time.

I don’t know when Rand last saw her, but he’s not a part of her life anymore .

I’d been crushed twice in the last hour. “Thank you for telling me,” I whispered.

“Everything will be different between the two of you once we get you back,” she said, this time out loud. I wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not.

As she spoke, I noticed Morse looking at me. He looked away instantly, but I’d seen the wistful expression on his face. He couldn’t have heard our thoughts, of course, but he’d heard Bryn’s last comment and he’d seen my face and could draw his own conclusions. In his expression, I’d seen something like hope.

EIGHT

ROWAN

“Rowan, would you make me some herbal tea?” asked Mathilda, weakly but with a smile. “My mouth is dry and I’m feeling a little drained.”

“Sure.” I nodded and smiled, but inside I was thinking; That’s right, get rid of the kid so the grown-ups can talk .

I’d always been the youngest in this house and while there were definite perks to being the baby of the family, it could also be a pain in the rear. And now I was the one who was doing everything! Dad was gone, Emma was at school, Mum had run off on her quest and Mathilda was confined to her bed. I wouldn’t blame them for any of that—they all had their reasons for being where they were. And, of course, Mathilda was stuck in bed because she had saved my life. I was grateful to all of them for looking after me in their different ways over the years, but since I was now the one doing all the looking after, maybe I didn’t have to be sent out of the room every time someone wanted to talk about big, serious stuff.

In the kitchen, I dumped Mathilda’s homemade herbal tea into the strainer and set the kettle on the hob to boil (Mathilda and Mum both preferred an old-fashioned kettle). Then I headed back upstairs.

“… but I didn’t want to risk using any less,” Mathilda was saying as I reached the landing and stopped to eavesdrop. “Not when I knew Rowan’s life might be at stake. And those two others as well. Yours?”

“Technically Sinjin’s,” said Laucian, the strange vampire friend of my father’s. “But, yes. They remain in the area should we need them. And a pair of Daywalkers, as well.”

I hadn’t made up my mind about Laucian yet. He gave off kind of a fuddy-duddy vibe, his clothes had a Victorian ridiculousness about them, and he addressed me as if I was an urchin out of a Charles Dickens book—he was well-spoken, I mean. He also had a European accent I couldn’t place but which made him seem exotic.

But, despite all that, there was this indefinable quality which I put down to him being a vampire.

Since Dad left, I hadn’t met that many vampires —Mum didn’t like them around because they reminded her of Dad—so I didn’t know if it was the vampire thing or what, but there was an almost hypnotic quality to Laucian. He was smooth, smart, closely shaved, hair slicked back and impeccably neat, but I imagined I could sense something wilder underneath his prim and proper exterior. He was like a tiger all dressed up for a ball—it might
be wearing a tuxedo, but it was still a tiger. There was something dangerous about him… and I found I kind of liked it.

Emma and I used to share our crushes and she would talk about ‘
tingly feelings ’ she’d have for boys. I never said anything, but I always thought she liked more boyish boys than I did. She liked boy-band types, I liked action heroes. And Laucian wasn’t boyish at all. He was more an action hero in hiding—or so I imagined.

Maybe it was my mother’s sensitivity coming through. I’d long wondered if I would inherit my mother’s ability to sense the emotions of others and even talk to them through a form of telepathy. Maybe what I imagined about Laucian was something I was genuinely sensing beneath his surface? Or maybe I was making stuff up because I thought he was cute.

“Sinjin has been keeping watch over us,” mused Mathilda, chuckling to herself. “I did wonder. It seemed so unlikely he would leave Bryn and Rowan without protection.”

“He will be devastated to learn the crisis occurred while he was unavailable.”

“Unavailable… as in he was off chasing Bryn.”

“Indeed.”

“While she’s off chasing Jolie.”

“Will they all find each other, do you think?” Laucian asked.

“When those two set their minds to something, it gets done,”

Mathilda answered and her voice sounded weak. “Sinjin and Bryn were wonderful together and it broke my heart to see them split.

The best of both of them is in that girl… downstairs.”

I blushed and felt a little guilty, since I was currently betraying her trust.

“She seems very capable and confident,” said Laucian, and I felt suddenly flushed to hear this handsome man complimenting me. Did I like him because he reminded me of my Dad? Hmm, that was a good question. They sounded quite a bit alike.

“She is also very fragile,” said Mathilda, somewhat less flatteringly, I thought. “The girl is special; a child of light and dark. Though we’ve tried to hide it from her and her specialness has yet to manifest in any major way. She is special in herself, of course. Rowan is a wonderful child, but there is a power she has yet to discover and it will draw more attacks like this last one.” She grew quiet for a moment. Then she looked at Laucian. “She needs a protector.”

His eyes narrowed just slightly. “Are asking me to protect her?”

“You’re a very astute man.”

There was a long pause before Laucian spoke again. “Forgive me for asking; but does this request… mean you will not be around to do so?”

I heard Mathilda sigh. “As I said, I poured much of my power into driving off the Vryloka. Perhaps more power than I could stand to lose. I cannot see the future, but I would be glad to know Rowan had a champion such as yourself.”

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop the sound of my shocked inhale. Was Mathilda saying she was dying? Was that even possible? I knew Mathilda was very old and I’d thought her immortal, in a way.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” asked Laucian.

“I have told you.”

“I meant to help you . I give you and Sinjin my promise that I will protect Rowan, but the greatest possible service I could be to her at this moment would be to help you get better.”

“That’s very kind of you,” replied Mathilda. “When I was younger

, I might have bounced back from such a terrific expenditure of magical energy, but everything slows as you get older. Even for a Fae.” She sighed and sounded weary. “And rest is not working. I am getting weaker by the day, rather than stronger—draining without replenishing. In this world, there is no way for me to recoup my energy, and the portals to Faery are now all closed, save for one—and that exists on another continent.

“Then?”

“No,” she said and shook her head. “I would not survive the journey. In my prime, I might have been able to create a new portal, but in my current state, it is out of the question.”

“I see.”

I bit my lip as I listened. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I’d known she was sick but… this was Mathilda! She was indomitable. She couldn’t die! And the idea this powerful old Fae who had seen so much and knew so much and helped so many, might die because she was saving me was more than I could stand.

“I walked away from Faery long ago for reasons of my own,”

continued Mathilda, “before the Underworld, before any of this. I went by a different name back then and I left it behind in my homeland and I have never been sorry about the decision I made. I suppose it has cost me now, but I still do not regret it, for I have had a wonderful life here that I would never have had back there. If I’d stayed behind, I would never have met Jolie and Bryn, Sinjin, Rand, Emma, and of course, dear Rowan. No. It was a
good decision and if this is the end that it brings me, I would say it is a good end. There are worse things to die for than a child.”

I couldn’ t listen any more. With a choking sob escaping from the hand over my mouth, I blundered back down the stairs. Even if I could leave the conversation behind me, I couldn’t escape what I’d heard—the woman who had been like a grandmother to me was dying.

In the kitchen, I collapsed at the table and cried. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there when I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder.

“Child?”

I started and looked up to see the vampire, Laucian, standing over me.

“You should be careful,” I rubbed my red-rimmed eyes, “when the sun rises the kitchen catches it directly.”

“Thank you for the warning, but we have some time yet.”

He sat down opposite me, flicking up the tails of his three quarter length jacket as he sat.

“What kind of jacket is that? I mean… what’s it called?”

“It is a morning coat.” Then he frowned at me in that judgmental sort of way of his. “It is quite unfortunate you do not already know that.”

“And it’s quite unfortunate that you’re even wearing it. It looks like something from the set of Interview with the Vampire .”

Laucian smiled, but I didn’t say anything more. And neither did he. We sat in silence for a few moments longer.

“I daresay you heard the exchange between Mathilda and myself?”

he asked at last.

I nodded.

“You overheard what we were saying when you were supposed to be making tea?” he asked and frowned. As if to make sure I was really being so naughty.

I nodded again.

“That is unfortunate.”

“Everything is unfortunate to you.”

“Not for the reasons you might think.” Laucian stood. “It’s unfortunate because the kettle has damn near boiled dry.” He went
to the stove and removed the kettle from the hob. “If you are going to use a hob kettle, you need one that whistles.”

“That one used to. I lost the whistle thing.”

The hot kettle gushed steam as Laucian refilled it and placed it back on the hob.

Then he glared at me. “I have no experience dealing with children.”

“And I have no experience dealing with obstinate, old men.”

He chuckled and then cocked his head to the side. “Touché.” Then he considered me for a moment longer and shrugged. He sat down again. “Mathilda is gravely ill. You have done a reasonable job of looking after her…”

“I’ve done a great job!”

Laucian looked at me hard for a moment before speaking. “As I was saying, you have done a reasonable job and perhaps no one could have done better, but the simple fact is that unless she gets back to Faery, she is not going to heal.”

I felt my lower lip start to tremble and tried to get control of it.

Laucian gave me a more sympathetic look. “It has been a very long time since I was your age, but I do remember thinking crying was something only children did. When you grow up, you learn adults do it too—probably more. The older you get the more you have to cry about.”

“Do you cry?”

He glared at me. “God no! What would I have to cry about?”

I started to giggle. I couldn’t help it. And Laucian’s stern resolve seemed to break a little as a smile took hold of his lips.

The kettle bubbled frantically and Laucian rose. “ Did you want a cup too? Yes? Then get a cup and saucer, I don’t know where anything is, child.”

I stood and got a mug from the draining board while Laucian poured the hot water through the strainer into Mathilda’s cup. He looked aghast as I carried the mug over.

“Are we animals?”

“It’s a mug. It’s what you’re supposed to serve tea in.”

“Good gracious!” he huffed and glared at me again. “I am starting to have doubts about the way in which you were raised.”

He left the kitchen to take the cup of herbal tea up to Mathilda while I sat at the table again. The steam from the tea felt good on my face.

Laucian returned a few minutes later. “I suppose it’s too much to expect that you would have some blood about the place?”

“Sorry.”

“No matter. I fed before coming and I am quite certain that Sinjin’s agents have a supply I can plunder if needs be.” He seated himself once more. “Where were we?”

“You said there was no way Mathilda was going to get better.”

Laucian drew back in his seat and scowled at me. “You do not listen.”

“What do you mean? That’s what you said!”

He frowned even more completely this time. “I am quite certain I said nothing of the kind.”

“You said…”

“I said that unless Mathilda returns to Faery, she will not get better.” He paused a moment.

“You mean… there is something you can do to help her?” I barely dared to say the words. Suddenly this man looked even more like a hero than he had before.

“Well, I shall be damned if I do nothing,” said Laucian, firmly.

“I am over five hundred years old and one does not live that long by giving up.”

“You’re over five hundred years old?”

“Yes, I believe I’m closest to six hundred now, perhaps.” Then he waved his hand in the air. “I have forgotten to notice birthdays as they’ve passed over the years.” Then he speared me with one of his reproachful glances. “Point is… People think it’s easy for vampires to reach that age, but let me tell you; we are far easier to kill than advertised. Try avoiding sunlight for five centuries and then tell me it’s easy. I cannot even enter an Italian restaurant for fear of garlic.” He waved this off. “But I digress. The point is; I am not about to give up on Mathilda. I will do everything I can to help her.”

“But if the only way is to bring her to Faery…”

“Then that’s what we will do.”

“It won’t be easy to get her to the portal in the US.”

Laucian shook his head. “Taking Mathilda to the portal in that backwards country is out of the question, she is far too weak.”

“So…” I stared at him blankly.

“To paraphrase a well-known saying; if Mathilda won’t got to the portal, then the portal must come to Mathilda.”

“You’re going to make a portal here?” I paused for a moment. “Um, last I checked you weren’t Fae and I doubt you even know any of them.”

“I know plenty of them.”

“Oh, really? Name one.”

“Odran.”

“You just know of him. I mean do you know any personally?”

He cleared his throat. “What is the difference.”

“The difference is a pretty big one. As in—bringing a portal to Mathilda big.”

“You are quite a vexing twit.”

There had used to be a portal here, of course, but the Fae had closed all of them after relations between this world and theirs had broken down following the fall of the Underworld.

“I don’t have that power,” Laucian admitted. “And the Fae are not at all well-disposed to vampires at the present time. Things have changed quite a bit since your father visited their realm to rescue you when you were a sprog.”

“You know about that?” I felt embarrassed.

“Everyone knows about that, child. It’s practically entered into legend.”

“So… what?”

“There are others who know more about portal energy than I do and who are on better terms with the Fae. I’m not saying it will be easy, but there used to be a portal here—which is a good start, and the energy does exist in this world. It just needs to be moved.”

Suddenly, I began to see what he was driving at. “You… You’re talking about the portal literally coming to Mathilda, aren’t you? You’re talking about bringing the portal in the US… here.”

Laucian rocked his hand from side to side. “The energy rather than the portal itself, but in essence; yes.”

“But that’s crazy!” I blurted out.

“If you have a better idea, child, I am quite open to it.”

“How would that even work?”

“As I said, I am not an expert in portal energy.”

“Then you don’t know if it will work?”

Laucian shrugged. “Portal energy can be moved; yes?”

“Well… yes.”

“All that the portal here at Kinloch Kirk requires to re-open it is that energy; yes?”

“I mean… I guess.”

“Plus the compliance of the people on the other side.”

“I suppose.”

Laucian shrugged again as if he couldn’t imagine what the problem was. “If each stage of the process is possible, then I imagine the whole operation is possible, is it not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Not easy, certainly. But possible. And that’ll do for now.

Fortunately, Mathilda has spent her life being well-liked by everyone, which will make getting assistance easier.”

I wanted to tell him his idea was insane, ridiculous and would never work. But when he laid it out like that… why shouldn’t it work? No one had ever done it, but maybe that was because it seemed insane, ridiculous and impossible. There’s always a first time for everything, right?

“Who are you going to ask for help?”

Laucian looked a little more uneasy when I asked that question.

Transporting power of that magnitude over such a great distance wasn’t something any warlock or witch could pull off.

“That, I…” He paused. “Can you hear something?”

I hadn’t heard anything, but now he asked, I was suddenly aware of a sound from outside. It was a sound I’d heard before and my blood ran cold at the memory.

“Child?” Laucian looked at me as the color drained from my face.

But I could only stammer, “The Vryloka…”

NINE

NYX

I loved new partners.

Sex with someone new was like dating; at the start there was so much energy, so much new information, so much passion that you can’t help but constantly want to bang it out. Then, assuming there’s chemistry and you both want to keep on keeping on, you start to get to know each other better; likes and dislikes, foibles and pet peeves, you start to push to see what the other person is capable of and find out where you might end up in their lives.

The previous evening , Pagan had proved to be a vigorous and exciting sexual partner with strength and stamina to spare, and we both had the bruises to prove it. He showed me another string to his bow (and it was an impressive ‘bow’ to begin with). I’d had a long day, trekking to London and back for the Masked Magistrates meeting—something that always took it out of me as I had to keep up my disguise and that was fairly exhausting.

Though I ’d said nothing, Pagan seemed to recognize my mood, or perhaps he, too, was in the mood for something less athletic. He undressed me slowly, kissing my body as he revealed it, caressing my flesh tenderly, almost lovingly. With his delicate fingers and agile tongue, he brought me to the peak of pleasure, while I lay writhing on the bed beneath him.

Once he was naked too, we slipped beneath the covers and he entered me, kissing me with a depth of passion I didn’t remember from the previous night. Though he was obviously powerfully aroused, he went slowly and I sighed in long, drawn out pleasure as he stroked gently in and out, caressing my body. We made love—
a phrase I seldom used as it was seldom appropriate for the sort of sex I enjoyed. But Pagan made the cliches make sense, holding me close like a real lover, using that masculine strength but using it so subtly.

He took control , but didn’t overwhelm me, he was in charge but didn’t seek to dominate me. Usually I liked men to both overwhelm and dominate me, as long as they knew who was actually in charge.

But Pagan made love to me as if we were equals, and because of that, for a little while there, maybe we were.

Not that I was any less the one in charge , once the sex was over. I was still Nyx, I held all the cards, and the man beside me was just a part of my plan. But perhaps I now felt a little pang of sadness at the thought of where that plan might end up.

As we reached a mutual climax, I clung to his strong body while he moved against me, our eyes locked, each seeing in the other a deep intensity of the moment where no one existed except the other person.

I was used to my other lovers pounding me to white hot orgasm, but Pagan got the same reaction from me, only using intimacy. I clutched the sheets in white-knuckled fists, small, keening cries escaping my throat as I reached the apex. Sharp, electric pleasure ravaged my body, suffusing every part of me. I always kept control during sex. Even braced between two men, upside down and shaking with the force of my own orgasm, I always knew where I was and what I would do if something unexpected happened (always a possibility when you’re a revolutionary leader). But with Pagan, I lost control. If one of Duine’s emissaries had burst in then to kill me, all I would have done was cling to Pagan, because he was all there was.

“You are incredible,” breathed Pagan as he lay beside me, putting an arm around me.

I said nothing.

Usually I would have joked; ‘ You’re okay yourself’ , ‘ That makes one of us ’—that sort of thing. But I didn’t feel like responding as such that now. I felt uncharacteristically naked and vulnerable. Which was odd, because usually when I was naked I felt the most powerful. Sex was the source of my power, the well-spring of my magic, and I knew how to use it to control those around me. Pagan had shorn me of that defense—not because he was better at using the magic of sexuality than I was, but because he was really, really good in bed. And, maybe, because I quite liked him.

The effect didn’t last long.

As the sweet, sweaty aftershock of sex died away, I felt the old Nyx, the real Nyx reassert herself and chide the doe-eyed little girl who had temporarily taken control of my body. This was one arena where I was always the champion; this was what I did and who I was. No one bettered me here, and certainly not the naïve country boy beside me. He was good, but I was better.

Actually, I was better than better; I was Nyx.

Maybe I was trying to prove something to myself when I grabbed hold of Pagan’s exhausted weapon.

“Anything left in the tank?”

Pagan gave me a glassy look. “You’ll have to give me a minute.

And by a minute I mean ten.”

“And by ten you mean…?”

“About half an hour. You damn near kill me every time.”

I grinned. Maybe he ’d taken my breath away for a minute, but it was nice to know it had taken everything he had to do it.

Although he hadn’t even been trying—there was no magic involved, he was just Pagan. Something to bear in mind.

“Come on then,” I bounced off the bed and grabbed a dress from where it was slung over the back of a chair—I’m not really a wardrobe person. “Let’s go hang with your friends.”

Pagan levered himself off my bed, feeling the muscle aches I’d given him. “Can I grab a quick shower first?”

“No,” I replied, pulling the dress over my head—I’m not an underwear person either.

“Why not?”

I went back to the bed, grabbed his face and kissed him hard.

“Because I want them to be able to smell me on you.”

I was marking my territory, and I didn’t mind being upfront about it. The Templars might as well know they now had to share their leader. If I could sow a little dissent in the ranks, it might come in handy later. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn’t, but I had it if I needed it and I always liked to be prepared.

#

The Order of the Templar were exactly what I ’d expected; unimpressive in every area, but two. Firstly, though they were mostly nothing special magically (none came close to Pagan), they were warriors.

They exuded it in a battle-hardened way and I could see the experience of loss and hardship written in their eyes. Amongst the Samhain , I had some hard bastards who had done terrible things—but that’s not the same as fighting a battle or fighting for a cause. My people were individuals who had come together, but might split apart just as quickly if the shit hit the fan.

They would defend themselves or perhaps just run.

The Templar were different—they would defend each other and their leader to their last drop of blood. When I formed the Samhain, we’d fought our adversaries, but since then, it was more convenient for my long term plans to retreat to Glyderau and wait. Unfortunately, that meant my guys had gotten soft. I would have to speak to Conal about that.

The other thing that was impressive about the Templars, which again stood out a mile just to look at them, was their devotion to their leader. I was the Queen of the Samhain, there was no way anyone would challenge me —there was no way anyone would dare. No
one would even step out of line. They liked me well enough and they did as they were told, but I didn’t ask a great deal of them. Maybe they would have liked me less if I started making hard demands. But what made Pagan special was that energy he had that I hadn’t seen in any other individual. Call it charisma because there was no other word that came close. You could almost sense it in the air when he walked into a room—I could taste it on his lips when I kissed him, and feel it glow from within when he fucked me.

It wasn’t magic.

That was perhaps the most surprising thing. Pagan was a powerful warlock with ties to the natural magics that few could equal (me being one of the few), and yet he did n’t use it that much because he had something better. Pagan led the Order of the Templar the same way he made love; no magic, just him, but all of him.

He led the Order with his whole self in the same way that when we had sex , he was all mine and I was his only focus. He didn’t need magic—he was just that good, and you couldn’t argue with results. The way his people looked at him now was the same way I had looked at him earlier that evening. The difference was that with me it wore off, while his people were hooked on him. There wasn’t one person there who wouldn’t die for him.

“This is Matherson, my lieutenant,” said Pagan, smiling as he introduced a giant of a man with a beard like a hedgerow.

“Matherson, this is Nyx, our host and commander of the Samhain.”

“An honor to meet you.” He nodded at me, friendly but at the same time suspicious.

“Likewise,” I lied.

“And this,” Pagan continued (damn it, was he going to introduce me by name to all these simpletons? Who the fuck cared?), “is Eirin.”

A little bit of woman with red hair and a ‘ fuck you ’ expression gave me a death stare. I liked her instantly. I also noticed the sexual energy between her and the giant. That was worth knowing; something that I might be able to use. I wondered idly if tiny Eirin, who held herself more like a warrior than any of the men, might be tempted over to the Samhain—she seemed like one of us.

But I didn’t think she would leave the giant, and he wouldn’t leave Pagan—he was Pagan fan number one. Well, if they couldn’t be split up, then such a mismatched couple might still be fun to watch—observing the sexual habits of Glyderau was a hobby of mine, and another area from which I drew energy.

“Let’s have dinner,” said Pagan. At times like this, the sweetness of him made me wonder that he was the war leader he
most certainly was—he acted as if he’d brought his girlfriend home to meet his parents.

If nothing else, the Templars were good company over dinner. I subtly ingratiated myself, but made sure to also make them nervous—I didn’t want them getting too comfortable. I made a point of touching Pagan whenever I could, enough to raise questions in the already suspicious Matherson and Eirin.

“That was nice,” said Pagan, as we left the dining hall. “I’m glad you got to meet them. I think our groups will work well together against Duine.”

“I think so too.”

Like I hell I did. I needed Pagan and no one else.

But dinner had highlighted one thing very clearly; it wasn’t just that the Templars were devoted to Pagan, he was devoted to them.

I didn’t necessarily need to split them, but I needed to know he was with me. I needed him to do as I said without question.

Usually I found that sex was enough to secure a man’s loyalty.

But Pagan was so devoted to his cause, I needed more (plus, he gave as good as he got). I had his personal loyalty, or at least affection, he’d proved that earlier, but I needed something to get his professional loyalty. We needed something to work on together; a mission of some sort to cement that side of our relationship. Fortunately, I already had something in mind.

On the way back from London, Conal and I had talked over my plan to bring down Duine using the promise of Mercedes, and we’d agreed that Duine was too smart to go to a meeting without some proof that the Prophetess would be there. The reality was that I would probably have to actually find the damn woman just to get Duine to agree to meet—where he would be confronted by Pagan and summarily assassinated.

The problem was, no one knew where to find her.

“ The rumor is,” I’d explained, “that she retreated to one of the Fae realms.”

Conal frowned. “One of those reality islands.”

“ Yeah.”

The Fae realms were islands that existed between our world and theirs; real but at the same time not. Not unlike Glyderau, but much bigger.

“ I suppose searching them is out of the question?” said Conal.

“There’s a few of them if I remember rightly.”

“ I believe there are about fifty six thousand.”

Conal nodded. “Quite a few.”

“ I would say so.”

“ Too many to search.”

“ Not unless we have a very long time. And finding the prophetess by conventional magic will be impossible. This is the prophetess we’re talking about. If she hasn’t set up magical detection and barriers, then I’ll eat this car.”

“ And you don’t even know for certain if she’s on one,” pointed out Conal.

“ That’s problem one,” I itemized. “Problem two is getting there.

One does not simply walk into the Fae Realms.”

“ You need a lodestone,” nodded Conal.

“ Right. A lodestone which might also help me locate whichever island the prophetess is on,” I agreed.

“ Dangerous magic.” Conal never told me what to do. We might argue and he might have a contrary point of view (in fact often did) but he never told me what to do. He implied it.

“ If I use it here , in Glyderau, it should be fine.” I understood his nervousness. Controlling a lodestone took a great deal of powerful magic and if you got it wrong, then it could send you into another realm. More specifically, it would send you into a bunch of other realms, tearing you apart in the process.

Even I wouldn’t even consider using such an item outside of Glyderau, where my power was at its strongest.

“ Still dangerous,” mused Conal.

“ I can’t think of any other way to find Mercedes.” And that was that. Finding the prophetess, even though I was only finding her to fool Duine, was essential to my plan. “Which leads us to problem three.”

“ Getting a lodestone.”

I nodded. They were rare, and people who had them didn’t just leave them lying about. Unless they were pretty stupid and thought only their friends knew the way in.

“ The Masked Magistrates have one.”

Conal gave me a look. “You’re going to steal from the Masked Magistrates?”

“ What’s the worst that could happen?”

“ You could be killed by the guards,” said Conal, his expression going stony. “Second worst is that every other faction then has a grudge against us. So rather than having to take on Duine, we have to take on; the King’s Alliance, the Fae, the Vampire Coalition, all the werewolf packs, and everyone else who suddenly wants a piece of us because we’ve broken the only truce that’s meant anything since the rise of the Underworld.”

“ I meant apart from that.”

Normally stealing the lodestone was the sort of job I would only entrust to Conal, but this was an opportunity to solidify my

‘relationship’ with Pagan and I knew he had the skills.

“Sounds interesting,” Pagan smiled after I explained. Clearly, he was up for the challenge. “Why do you need it?”

Obviously I wasn’t going to tell him the truth. I decided to tell him something that would get him as invested as I was.

“Because the Magistrates are part of the problem masquerading as part of the solution. They pretend to be the heirs to the Underworld, but all they do is maintain the status quo while men like Duine gain power. And once he’s got enough power, then the world will be his for the grasping because they’ve done nothing.

This is the wake-up call they need.”

I tried not to grin as I saw the fire flare in Pagan’s eyes.

Idealists were so wonderfully easy to manipulate.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“So you’ll come with me?”

“I will. How many people do you need?”

“Just the two of us. More than that will alert the guards.”

“How do we get in?”

“Leave that to me.”

“When do we go?”

“Tomorrow night.”

Pagan nodded. “So we what do we do tonight?”

I slid my hand down to the crotch of his pants. “If you need to ask that, you’re not the man I thought you were.”

Pagan smiled as his pants became suddenly and impressively more constricted. “A man doesn’t get a lot of rest around you.”

“If a man needs rest, then he shouldn’t be around me.”

TEN

STONE

“I’m sorry?” I said into the phone

“I said I am Emma Balfour’s father,” the voice at the other end of the line repeated , rather impatiently.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.”

I was talking to the man who used to go by the name Rand Balfour but was now better known as Duine, High Mage of the King’s Alliance. Backstory of which most people were unaware, but Sinjin had clued me in.

And this was a man who had neglected his daughter and who was an absolute piece of shit in my books. It took everything within me to keep calm and not give him a piece of my mind. Flying off the handle very rarely ended well so I did my best to keep my head.

“I’ve spoken to the school and they ’ve told me about recent events,” he continued. Then why was he calling me?

It suddenly occurred to me that I might be in serious trouble here, but I wasn’t yet clear about what. His daughter had been kidnapped while she was under my care—that was bad to start with.

But then, on top of that, there was the danger that he might know I was secretly working for Sinjin.

I couldn’t imagine that Sinjin was in the habit of chatting such things through with High Mage Duine (my understanding was that they had never much liked each other) but he was a powerful man with ears everywhere, it was certainly not impossible that he knew about me. In which case, I wasn’t only the person who was supposed to be looking after his daughter when she was kidnapped, I wasn’t only the person who had been designated to be his daughter’s bodyguard when she was kidnapped, I was the person spying on his daughter for a man he now counted among his enemies. None of which was likely to endear me to one of the most famously vindictive men in England.

Normally, threats from a man like Duine would n’t bother me. I was a tough son of a bitch, I knew how to hide and I knew how to look after myself—let the bastards come, it would be worse for them if they found me. But I couldn’t walk away while Emma was in danger. I had to stick around and that made me vulnerable to Duine.

I decided to try to be clever. “ Do you have any idea who these people might have been, High Mage?”

The silence from the other end of the line suggested that Duine had got my implication that this might well be his fault. Emma was hardly likely to have powerful enemies looking to kidnap her,
and while she had little if any contact with her father, it certainly didn’t seem impossible that some enemy of that father had taken a chance.

“None as yet,” came the measured response.

“Probably worth giving it some thought.” I pushed my luck.

“You’re a cocky little shit for someone who just lost my daughter, whom he was supposed to be looking after.”

“I’m not trying to make excuses,” I dialed it back a bit—I did feel responsible for what had happened to Emma. “But there are a lot of students here under my care…”

“None of which I give two fucks about, you craven bloodsucker,”

Duine growled down the phone. “You think I don’t know you’re working for that ass, Sinclair?” Ah, so he did know. “I knew as soon as Elmington told me about you. Sinjin?” he scoffed. “That vampire is so predictable. Leave it to him to find his own little mini-me.”

From the tone, Duine was obviously insulting me, but few vampires would mind being compared to Sinjin Sinclair. I knew Sinjin well enough to know that he could be an ass, as well as the most dangerous man I knew. I didn’t actually think I was a Sinjin clone—or ‘mini-me’ as Duine had so creatively put it—but I wouldn’t mind; there were worse thing to be.

“I hope we now understand each other,” Duine went on. “Please bear in mind that I can make your life very unpleasant or, if you really piss me off, very brief.”

“Threatening me won’t do you any favors.”

“Listen to what I’m telling you and do as I say. I want my daughter back safely.”

“So do I.”

“Good… I know where she is.”

My mind did a somersault and my heart leapt up in my chest.

“How?”

Duine gave an exasperated sigh. “Really? You want the most powerful Mage in the world to explain the magic behind this? Or perhaps you could get your ass in gear and go help her.”

“Where is she?”

“I am downloading co-ordinates to your phone. They were travelling fast initially. They seem to have stopped now, but I’m sure they’ll get moving again.”

“We believe they’re heading for England.” I just wanted to make it clear that I hadn’t been sitting around doing nothing while his daughter was in danger.

“That’s possible. They’ve stopped by a port.”

Why would they take a boat rather than a plane if they were in a hurry? Maybe they were planning to stowaway? Or maybe resurrected Druids didn’t know about air travel.

“Obviously, I could go to her myself or send my men,” maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed to me that Duine was justifying why he wasn’t saving his daughter personally, “but you’re closer.

Return her and I’ll forget you were spying on my child. Fuck this up and you will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.”

“I’ll get her,” I said, firmly. “I would sooner die than see any harm come to Emma.”

I might have said the words a little too fervently because Duine paused and then said, “Well, that might be something we need to discuss when all this is over. Goodbye ‘Professor’ Draper.” He used my name just to rub in the fact that he knew who I was.

“Good…” But he had already hung up.

My phone bleeped an alert and I saw Duine’s message with specific co-ordinates of Emma’s position. I needed to hurry. I didn’t know what the Druid’s plans were, but I didn’t think they were going to hang around as long as they were wearing the bodies of kidnapped students. That sort of thing made you very conspicuous as well as a target.

“Professor Draper?” Kevin and Jupiter were still nearby.

“I have to go. I know where she is.”

They both looked relieved and I wished I could share their optimism as I hurried for my car.

“Professor Draper!”

Damn it! Wouldn’t this school ever let me go? I turned back to see Professor Wilde, the head of the faculty, with several other Professors plus a brace of burly custodians heading my way.

“Sorry, Professor Wilde, I’ve got to be somewhere. I’ll explain later.” I wouldn’t.

But this was obviously more than an impromptu staff meeting. A pair of custodians cut me off before I could reach my car. As a magical school, Elmington employed a different type of custodian to most academies—you didn’t mess with these people.

I turned back to my boss. “Something I can do for you.”

“What is the nature of your relationship with Emma Balfour?”

I didn’t even know how to start answering that question and there was no truthful answer that I was going to share with this man.

“She’s my student, she’s missing and I was on my way to try and find her when you stopped me.”

“You know where she is?”

“Her father just…”

“I have spoken to her father,” Wilde interrupted me. He was a tall man with prematurely white hair and the attitude of a General of the old British Empire talking to colonials. He was also a powerful magic user, and he wasn’t the only one in the crowd confronting me—I couldn’t take them all out. “The High Mage did not communicate the girl’s location to me. Why would he entrust it to you?”

“You’d need to ask him,” I replied. It was an interesting question and I thought the likely answer was; set a thief to catch a thief.

“I do not believe he gave you any such information,” Wilde continued.

“Well you call him and find out. In the meantime, I’m going to go find his daughter,” I suggested. I shouldn’t have gotten tetchy with the man; that never worked with his sort.

Wilde drew himself up, looking like a cockatoo putting up its crest. “It has been brought to our attention that you may be in this school under false pretenses.”

Why would Duine have told them that if he wanted my help finding Emma? It didn’t make sense…

“Further, and perhaps more damning, it has been brought to my personal attention that you have been conducting an inappropriate relationship with one of the students under your care.”

Inappropriate relationship? I wished. We’d had one kiss, I’d hardly have called that a ‘relationship’. I could have told them as much, but I had a hunch it wasn’t the strongest defense I could make.

“The student in question being the afore-mentioned,” only people like Digby Wilde used the word ‘ afore-mentioned ’, “Miss Emma Balfour. And this being the case, I am minded to believe you are connected to this kidnap.”

“Well, that’s just a prize load of bullshit.” My temper snapped.

“I don’t think so, Professor Draper—if that is your real name.

You’re going to tell us what you’ve done with Miss Balfour and you are going to do so now. The police are already on their way, there is no getting out of this.”

“Here!” I showed them my phone with the address where Duine said that Emma was being held. The important thing was that she was safe—if I wasn’t going to rescue her, then someone else had to.

“This is where she is.”

Wilde snorted. “A likely story. You haven’t left the premises and that means Miss Balfour is still here. Perhaps you have her in some private sex dungeon.”

Again; I wished.

“I do not have Miss Balfour in a sex dungeon,” I snapped. “I don’t have a sex dungeon to begin with and I’m not having an inappropriate relationship with Miss Balfour, whose kidnappers, by the way, could be getting further and further away as we speak. Call her father, he’ll tell you to let me go help her.”

“You’re trying to buy yourself time and it won’t work,” retorted Wilde. “I will not contact a parent whose child has been kidnapped to ask inane questions! Besides, there is still the question of what you are doing in this school. Did you come here purely with the intention of corrupting our students or did you have other motives?”

That was why he wasn’t calling Duine. Because any conversation about me was going to lead to a child’s parent saying ‘ Why are you asking me this? ’ and the answer ‘ Because one of our professors may have been doing your daughter ’ was not one that got a school a good reputation.

“I came here with good recommendations which I assume you checked out.” Sinjin had been careful to give me the appropriate references. “I understand and I respect your concern for your pupils’ well-being and it would be quite wrong for a professor to make advances of any sort to a student.” That was my bad. “But Emma Balfour has been kidnapped—it wasn’t by me, and every second longer that you hold me here is lessening my chance of getting her back safely.”

“And yet you still claim to be just a teacher?” Wilde arched a patrician eyebrow.

“Okay,” I held up my hands. “Obviously I’m full of shit on that point. But I’m telling the truth about Emma. You have to believe me.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Who even told you all this stuff?”

It couldn’t be Duine. He knew I was Sinjin’s agent, but had no reason to pass that on, and he didn’t know about Emma and me getting busy—if he had, he would hardly have asked me to go look for her.

“The student’s name will remain a secret for their own protection.”

A student.

At first I wondered about Kevin or Jupiter, who had been pissed at me on and off through the evening, but then it hit me.

“Clark!”

“As I said, the name will remain secret.”

When the Druids took possession, they had access to Clark’s thoughts. Clark hadn’t known about Emma and me, but he must have suspected, and that was all the possessing spirit needed to go to a teacher and make some wild (though in this case pretty accurate) claims. Clark had recognized that I was the one protecting Emma, and had found a clever way to get me out of the picture.

No way was I going to be able to talk my way out of this. I needed to make a move. But what? In a straight up fight , I was as good as anyone, and better than most, thanks to my vampiric powers, but I was outnumbered ten to one, and the custodians were shifters of some sort. If they changed form, I would be in trouble.

In a magical fight, again , I could hold my own, but there were too many magic users here. Besides, much as I disliked many of these people, and foolish though they were being, they weren’t actually bad. They also weren’t a million miles wrong about everything; I was in the school under false pretenses, I had kissed Emma. In context, I thought both of these were explainable and excusable (the latter one less so) but there wasn’t time.

Point was; even if I could take them all out, they were innocents and that wasn’t cool. I didn’t want to hurt them, I just wanted them out of my way.

Once again, the gypsy spells of my old grandmother popped into my head, spells that drew on the natural world. The one that occurred to me now was one she ’d used to make me laugh when I was a toddler, but with a little tweak, it could be just the distraction I needed.

I dropped my head, reciting the ancient syllables beneath my breath.

“Stop that!” yelled Professor Wilde, recognizing what I was doing, even if he didn’t recognize the spell.

“What’s that?” asked Professor Kincaid.

The whole faculty stopped to listen.

“Is it thunder?”

It wasn’t. It was the sound of beating wings.

The birds descended in a vast cloud, blocking out the sky and swooping down onto the faculty members. Of course, my grandmother had only used the spell to call one or two birds to sit on my finger, just so she could see me smile. Ten was the most I saw her summon and they sang in harmony for me while I sat in rapt attention. My version was more like something out of an Alfred Hitchcock flick.

That said, they didn’t attack—I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone and I didn’t use the birds as a weapon, but when several hundred birds descend on you from nowhere, the fact they’re not pecking you isn’t what you notice.

As the faculty members rushed about, screaming and trying to get away from the birds, I ran to my car, jumped in and drove off.

I’d already lost way more time than I could afford and I hoped the delay wouldn’t cost Emma.

ELEVEN

LAUCIAN

“Get upstairs and make sure Mathilda is safe,” I said to Sinclair’s only child.

It needed doing, but I was also giving her instructions to give her something to do to take her mind off her own fear. The child had already been attacked by these creatures once and I could see the terror in her eyes as she heard the sound that heralded their arrival.

“What about you?” Rowan stared at me, wide-eyed.

“I shall retreat as soon as I persuade them to leave by wringing a few necks,” I replied.

“But… It’s almost dawn.”

That had occurred to me and the timing was certainly not ideal, but it couldn’t be helped. “There’s some time yet. Hopefully I can get them to back off before the sun rises. If not, then we shall defend the house.”

“But…”

“This is not the time to argue, child.” I shot her a smile. “I shall be fine. I have survived over five hundred years, I believe I can see through the next few hours.”

Rowan looked comforted and ran for the stairs to tend to Mathilda. I went to the window to look out. The sky was an uncomfortable gray, which to a vampire meant; time to get your arse indoors or invest in some incredibly strong sunscreen.

Dotted across the muted sky, I could see the creatures known as the Vryloka. Energy vampires that fed on normal vampires.

Sickening monsters.

Why did they want Sinclair’s daughter?

That was probably a question that could wait, for now. In the corner of the kitchen, by the door, was a stick stand which contained several walking sticks (Mathilda’s I assumed), a pair of umbrellas, a long bow and a quiver of arrows. It had been some years since I had used a bow and arrow in combat, but I had continued to practice regularly, and a projectile weapon was definitely what was needed against the Vryloka.

Slinging the bow across my torso and hanging the quiver at my waist, I marched out the door, pulling the mobile phone from my pocket to call the Daywalkers who would soon be on duty protecting Rowan.

No signal.

Well, they would presumably spot the attackers without me having to tell them.

Standing out at the front of the house, I notched an arrow to the bow and waited. I tried to pick out which of these might be the leader of the attack—always best to pick off the leader if you can and hope the rest of the squad fold. There was one towards the top of the group who was making hand signals to the rest.

They were close enough now. I raised the bow, taking careful aim at the signaler, and fired.

The arrow streaked towards it target and the Vryloka, who had not been expecting anything of this sort, did not even make an attempt to avoid it. The arrow caught the blasted ugly thing right through the neck—a very fine shot, if I said so myself. The creature dropped from the hazel wand on which it had been riding, its body twisting and turning pinkly in the air until it landed with a splash in the surf.

As the Vryloka shrieked and howled in the skies above me, I calmly notched another arrow and took aim again. How many would I have to take out before they gave up? More importantly; how many of them would I have to take out before they turned their attention to me personally rather than the house?

Following the death of their commander, the Vryloka circled back out of range, but now they were returning, and at greater speed.

I fired, but they were expecting it this time, and my target barrel-rolled out of the way, the arrow zipping uselessly past.

Blast. I had hoped this would work longer.

Where were those damn Daywalkers?

I fired again. Another miss. At this distance, they could see the arrows coming and were quick enough on their hazel wands to get out of the way. I would have to wait for them to get closer, but that was risky.

Suddenly, I saw one of the Vryloka on the edge of the group drop.

At first, I thought it must have fallen off its stick—it seemed unlikely but I supposed it had to happen from time to time. But, as it fell, I could see, sticking out of its narrow chest, the feathered shaft of an arrow, shorter than mine.

With the Vryloka’s attention shifting to this new attack, I hastily notched another arrow and this time hit my target. More screams of anger rose from the whirling fliers.

But who had fired the other arrow? It had to be my Daywalker allies, or perhaps Xander and Bella, making use of the last dregs of sunlight, such as I was. I looked about and saw a lone figure, perched on a sand dune, apparently unconcerned about how conspicuous he was. He carried a crossbow which didn’t have the range of the long bow and was slow to reload, but had immense power and was easier to aim.

But it was neither Daywalker nor vampire who now aimed the weapon at the sky once more. Though the face was covered, I instantly recognized the would-be assassin who had tried to kill me on the Carpathia not long ago. Not a he at all but a she! And she seemed to be on my side now, which was confusing, but I was hardly in a position to complain about it.

For a while, the two of us were able to keep the Vryloka guessing. They struggled to dodge the arrows because they did not know where the next shot was coming from, and though the assassin and I could not communicate at this distance, we did a good job of working as a team, keeping up a random firing pattern to keep the creatures guessing.

Inevitably, they wised up to us, but they did so by doing exactly what I had wanted; they targeted me and the assassin, rather than the house. Rowan was no longer their focus. That was good; the fact that they were now trying to kill me was less promising.

The Vryloka split into two groups, one going after the assassin, the other after me. By splitting their focus, we were no longer able to surprise them and they swooped closer and closer, getting bolder with each pass, reaching out for me. If they wanted to get
close, I would let them. As one soared down, I sprang up to meet it, grabbing the creature’s arm and hauling it to the ground.

Facing off with a Vryloka on the ground was no problem for a vampire of my age, experience and strength; down it went with a snapped neck.

“Who’s next?”

The Vryloka’s advantage was strength of numbers. Unfortunately, they were well aware of this. A screech went up that seemed to be the Vryloka for ‘ Land ’. Down they came, one after another, launching themselves towards me as soon as their feet touched the ground, reaching for me with clawed hands, baring long teeth.

Tossing my bow to one side, I went to meet them.

I pride myself on being a vampire of the old school, which to me means being a courteous host when people visit my castle, then drinking their blood by night and bidding them farewell the next morning. My version of vampirism has always been more seductive than vicious and that is how I prefer to see our species. That said, I know that, while I consider this to be ‘old school’, there is a far older school which is less polite and more bloody.

Beneath the morning coats, castles and seducing virgins in revealing nigh t gowns, vampires are animals—that is what we were millennia before I was turned, and that ancestry is still within us. I tend to look down on vampires who behave like animals nowadays as I feel it lets down the progress we have made, but there are times when only the animal will do. And while I do not like those times, when they come, no one can let loose the animal like the man who keeps it most closely caged.

And now it was time to release the beast.

I tore into the Vryloka, lashing out left and right. They sought to smother me with numbers, but I did not give them a chance to use that advantage as I ripped open any who came close. Grabbing one by the leg, I spun it round, knocking down several others, on whom I then sprang like a big cat with its prey. The Vryloka howled , but I roared back. My blood rose to the moment. You cannot deny your ancestry and I was enjoying every uncivilized second of this.

As I pummeled one of my attacker faces to a bloody pulp, I glanced across to where my assassin was in a similar situation to me. She was a fighting like a demon, but she did not have my vampire strength or speed. She was also slightly built and that lack of weight counted when you were being overwhelmed like this.

She had tried to kill me not so long ago. I had not forgotten that. But today we seemed to be on the same side and I was not a man who abandoned those who assisted him. She was defending Rowan and I was not about to let her die.

With a throaty growl, I tossed my victim into a group of his friends, who were now all hanging back, afraid to come too close to me, and ran towards the location where the assassin was fighting for her life.

The Vryloka did not see me coming, they were too involved in quelling the assassin and, anyway, I moved fast. With a snarl , I grabbed one of the creatures by the throat and hurled it aside before laying into the others with all my strength and all my violence. It had been a long time since I had let out the caged beast within and it had come out baying for blood. This was one reason I kept the animal inside me on such a short leash; because I knew what a monster it was, and because I knew how much I enjoyed it.

I caught the eye of the assassin as she recovered from the attack. The look she gave me did not appear very grateful.

The remaining Vryloka had clearly lost their stomach for the fight, and were haring away, snatching up their discarded hazel wands from where they had dropped them and taking to the skies, screeching appallingly as they flew towards the skyline and the rising sun.

Oh, shit.

The fight and the assassin forgotten, I ran for the house. I had been so caught up in my bloodlust, I had not even noticed the pinkness about the horizon and had left it far later than I should have. I felt the heat on the back of my neck and the searing pain that followed. Moments later, I hit the door and cannoned through it, collapsing on the floor inside with my back to the door.

That had been far too close.

I adjusted my shirt, and realized that as well as sitting in an undignified heap on the floor, I was covered in blood (mine and that of the Vryloka) and my clothes were torn. This was not the Master Vampire image I preferred to present to the world at large.

“Vampire.” The voice came from outside the door, and presumably belonged to my assassin/ally.

“My name is Laucian.”

“I know your name.”

“Then you have the advantage .”

“Ha! You have no idea.”

I took a chance. “Well it’s ridiculous me just calling you ‘girl’

so I’ll pick a name at random. How about O’Rourke?”

My theory was that this person was a vampire hunter, a descendant of one of the old families—families I had assumed to be long extinguished. The last vampire hunter I was aware of was Kieran O’Rourke.

“Good guess, vampire,” said the assassin. “Wrong. But close enough.”

“Well, until I know better, I shall stick with O’Rourke. I think it’s quite pretty and it suits you.”

“And I’ll stick to calling you ‘vampire’.”

“If you must. The name is there if you need it. Are you coming in?”

“I am not.”

“I suspected as much. But, for the record, I would not harm you if you came in to clean your wounds or have breakfast.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” O’Rourke spat, angrily.

“Good. I am simply emphasizing that you have no need to be. I’m grateful to you. You have my thanks.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“I surmised as much.” How much information would I be able to extract from this woman before she left? “You were protecting Rowan? Mathilda? Any particular reason?”

“They are innocents in this and I put them in danger.”

I frowned “ You put them in danger? You’re not connected to the Vryloka, so…” The truth dawned on me. “I wondered why my allies did not put in an appearance.” Xander, Bella and the Daywalkers.

“That was my fault.”

“Are they still alive?” If she had killed my people then, whether she had helped me or not, sunlight or not, I would drag her in here and the beast would drink human blood this morning.

“They are.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“You care, vampire?” she said it dismissively.

“I do. You seem to have a low opinion of my species and myself particularly, but we are quite capable of caring for others. I would not call those people my friends, as I have no friends, but they are my people.”

“You will excuse me for not giving a shit about vampire morality.”

For whatever reason, O’Rourke had made up her mind about vampires.

“Not that I’m complaining, but there were two vampires there whom you did not kill.”

“They’re young.”

“Ah.” This was always a problem for older vampires. We might all be good now, well-behaved and not eating people any more, but we had all lived through the bad old days. We had killed, we had eaten, we were monsters. I am not proud of it, but nor am I ashamed; a species as long lived as ours must make peace with the past. Fortunately, the friends and immediate family of those we killed are long dead themselves, but there are always a few who inherit an old grudge.

“You saved my life out there too,” O’Rourke said.

“It seemed the thing to do.”

“I’m not going to thank you for it. Or spare you when the time comes.”

I shrugged. “You must do what you think best. For the record, there are, as you noted, two innocents in this house, one of whom is gravely ill. I am doing my best to help them. If you can put your desire to kill me to one side until they are safe then I would take it as a personal favor.”

A pause from outside the door. “I don’t do personal favors for vampires.”

“That is not a great surprise.”

“But I will do as you ask. For their sake.”

“Much appreciated.” I believed her. The vampire hunters had their honor code and would not endanger the lives of humans, even if it meant letting a vampire go.

“How long shall we spend chatting like this?” I asked.

Silence from behind the door.

Moving fast, I ran upstairs and entered one of the rooms. The curtains were drawn and I gingerly flicked them to one side, wincing at the sunlight that streamed through. I couldn’t have told you why I was taking such a risk but… I wanted to see her.

There she was.

Walking briskly away. She had taken her lumps to o and there was blood on her, but she still walked with all the confidence in the world. As I watched, she seemed to somehow sense me and looked back.

She was astonishingly pretty. Beautiful even.

“Who was that?”

I started as the child entered behind me. “Are you alright? And Mathilda?”

“We’re both fine. Thanks to you.” She looked up at me admiringly.

“Was that one of my father’s spies?”

“It was not. She is… a friend.”

Rowan gave me a very teenage look to let me know she didn’t believe a word. “Oh, yeah? Anyone’s friend in particular or just generally amicable?”

“Let’s just be grateful that , for today at least, she was our friend,” I suggested.

Rowan nodded. She stared at the floor a moment then looked up again. “Do you think they’ll be back? The Vryloka?”

“Not immediately,” I replied. “We gave them too sound a beating.

Eventually? Perhaps. It depends on why they keep coming.”

Rowan shook her head. “I wish I knew why.”

So did I.

TWELVE

PAGAN

I’ d assumed that getting into the chambers of the Masked Magistrates would be the hard part of Nyx’s heist, but, to my surprise, that didn’t seem to be any trouble at all.

“Did they leave the key under the mat?” I asked, jokingly.

Nyx smiled. “A woman’s got to have some secrets hasn’t she?”

It was said in a way that was both coy and sexy, which was a good was of disguising the fact that she just didn’t want to tell me.

As was frequently the case with Nyx, I was being manipulated, but I found I was okay with it. We’d only just started working together, this was the inaugural mission of the new Samhain/

Templar alliance; she had a right not to trust me yet. Still, it underlined the fact that however Nyx seemed to treat me as her partner, there was always something she was keeping back. It also
underlined the fact that she could wind me around her little finger with no more than a smile. I had to keep my guard up.

“This way,” said Nyx, as we entered one of the grand corridors of the Masked Magistrates, oak-paneled and lit by ornate brass fixtures on the walls. Our feet made no sound on the plush carpet as we crept forward, Nyx leading the way.

“Would I be right in thinking you’ve been here before?” I whispered.

Nyx put a finger to her lips. “There are guards patrolling this place. The Masked Mercenaries.”

“Mercenaries?”

She nodded. “They’re not actually Mercenaries, someone just liked the name.”

I wouldn’t be so easily put off. “How do you know all this?”

“I keep my ear to the ground. It’s not all sex and magic in the Samhain, you know.”

She obviously wasn’t going to tell me and that was fair enough mid-mission, but I didn’t like going into a situation without all the information. Nyx knew about this place and had told me nothing—she was deliberately keeping it from me.

As we reached an intersection of corridors, Nyx held up a hand to stop me. Standing on tip-toes, she cupped a hand to my ear to whisper, her voice little more than a breath.

“From here on, there will be traps. Some magical, some physical.

They change regularly, so I don’t know exactly what to expect.”

Sure, she was happy to tell me when she didn’t know something.

Nyx put out a hand. “Reveal.”

Even outside Glyderau, she was a powerful witch. A purple haze tugged free of the palm of her hand, hovered before us momentarily, and then billowed out into the intersection. By its light we could now see a magical net, invisible to the naked eye, poised to trap any who crossed the corridors.

“Would you?” Nyx turned to me.

I was being tested. Perhaps that was what this little trip out together was all about; Nyx testing me. Then again, everything was a test with Nyx, I’d been through trials, torture and quite a lot of sex. I was still here though, so I supposed I’d passed the tests, but Nyx was never done. And although this was a test, it was also a genuine mission with a genuine objective and genuine stakes—Nyx trained with live ammo.

Truth be told, I was at my weakest here, in the city. Well, magically speaking. I drew much of my power from the natural world, and here, that background radiation of magical energy had been stamped down and tamed. Weaker, yes, but I wasn’t powerless.

As Nyx watched, I flicked out my fingers and the magical net tied at the corners.

Nyx smiled. “Smart.”

I didn’ know how closely these traps were monitored. If I’d simply destroyed the net, that might have alerted someone to our presence.

“Come on.”

We continued with caution, Nyx using her ‘ reveal ’ spell at regular intervals to search for any magical traps that might be lying in wait. Down one corridor, we encountered a huge disembodied eye that floated down the corridor, looking for intruders. Nyx drew a veil of darkness over us both until it passed.

“There.” I spotted an oily shimmer in the air, indicating the presence of some form of portal magic.

Nyx nodded. “Reveal.”

The spell showed a hidden portal waiting to suck in unwary intruders and spit them out who knew where.

With a twist of her hands, Nyx turned the portal inside out, and I couldn’t help admiring the skill and confidence with which she performed magic. No wonder this woman had the reputation she did, and no wonder Duine was scared of her.

“Well spotted,” she said before we carried on, and I felt like a dog who’d been given a pat on the head and a ‘ good boy ’. The strange thing was that I found myself wanting to please her again, in the hopes of getting another pat on the head.

As long as we kept our wits about us, then the magical traps were no trouble to a pair of powerful magic users, especially as Nyx had some knowledge of this place already. The physical traps presented more of a hazard.

“Wait,” she said and put an arm up to hold me back.

Unlike every other corridor, this one wasn’t carpeted, but had colored tiles on the floor.

“Let me guess,” I whispered. “You have to step on the correct tiles. Step on the wrong one and you’re incinerated?”

Nyx nodded.

“These guys have been reading too much cheap fantasy fiction.”

“I sometimes think they do it as much for their own amusement as protection against intruders,” nodded Nyx. “Step where I step.

And I mean it.”

I was very careful that my feet followed Nyx’s exactly as we executed an awkward dance across the tiled floor.

“How do you know the correct pattern?” I asked as we reached the far side.

Nyx shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

There wasn’t anything ‘lucky’ about it, but I decided not to push the subject. At least, not now. “This place is big.”

“Today it is. When they actually use it, it’s little more than the door, the corridor and the chamber. The labyrinth is in a state of flux between the door and the chamber—when they need it, it’s there, when they don’t, it’s not.”

“Handy.”

“Well, some of the Magistrates are pretty old. You don’t want to incinerate them just because they forgot the steps.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

We moved on and, for the first time, Nyx looked uncertain.

“They’ve moved things around again.”

“The traps?”

“The corridors. The layout of the labyrinth is also in a kind of flux. It doesn’t change that much, but when it does, you notice it.”

She held out her hand, palm up and breathed across it, calling up a golf ball sized orb of light. She whispered an instruction and the orb, after a brief pause, shot off down a corridor.

“That way,” said Nyx.

I nodded and took a step towards the orb.

The floor gave way at my feet, opening up beneath me to reveal a sheer-sided pit-trap vanishing off an impossible distance down. I swung my arms, desperately trying to regain my balance, but I was going down.

“Pagan!”

I felt a hand close on mine and I grabbed it tightly. My falling weight dragged Nyx down and she hit the floor with a thud, while I bounced off the side of the pit.

“Fuck!” growled Nyx, beneath her breath.

She was strong, but I wasn’t light and I could feel myself slipping.

Hastily, I recited a spell under my breath, but the words turned to ash as I spoke them and drifted down into the depths beneath.

Above me, I could hear Nyx saying a spell of her own, speaking the syllables through gritted teeth as my weight tugged at her shoulder, but she had just as little luck.

“There’s a magical dampening field,” I called up to her.

On the bright side, this meant the magical traps would no longer be working, but it also meant we could use no magic to save my life. I was still slipping, dragging Nyx down, inch by inch. Half her torso was now over the edge.

“Can you climb back up?”

I shook my head. “The walls are like grease. You have to let me go.”

“What?”

“There’s no way I can get back up and there’s no sense in both of us dying. Let me go!”

Her eyes went wide. “Like hell!”

I saw the grim determination in her face. Grabbing my wrist with both hands, she braced her feet and with a scream of effort, dragged me up far enough that I could grab the edge and haul myself the rest of the way.

Getting my breath back, I glanced across at Nyx and saw her massaging her shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Might have torn something,” admitted Nyx, wincing. “It’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” I said, fervently. She might not be trustworthy and I might not know her motives, but she had saved my life when it would have been far easier and safer not to.

“Don’t thank me.” Nyx shook her head. “It was my fault. They must have cast a confusion over this area so my guiding spell went the wrong way. I should have guessed.”

“Well, regardless, you still saved my life and I’m grateful.”

“I wouldn’t be grateful yet.” Nyx’s head snapped around at a sound from behind us. “There’s no way the guards didn’t hear that.”

“We have to hide.”

Nyx was looking about frantically. “There’s nowhere. We’ll have to fight.”

“I’ve got an idea. Do you trust me?”

Nyx looked me in the eye for a long moment, her face a blank.

“Yes.”

#

The darkness in the pit trap was total, all but for a razor-thin line of light from the corridor above us, where the trapdoors met.

It was a crazy place to hide, but hopefully that meant no one would look for us here. They would just assume we’d fallen into the trap and were either dead or still falling. I didn’t know how deep this thing was and it was something I was trying not to think about as we hung above it.

On the undersides of the trapdoors was the mechanism that allowed them to drop and then fold back into place —the price you paid for using real trapdoors rather than magical ones. There wasn’t much there to hang onto; just enough for one person, in fact.

As I hung from the undercarriage of the trapdoors, Nyx clung to me, her arms about my neck, her legs looped about my waist. It was a position not dissimilar to one we ’d adopted the night before, but that had been for recreational reasons.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the building ache in my shoulders —Nyx had held onto me and I weighed a hell of a lot more than she did. Of course, she hadn’t had to hold me for quite this long. I could feel Nyx’s head nestled against my neck, her hair against my cheek and her breath on my ear. She breathed slowly, retaining total control, her chest rising and falling at an even rate. I could feel her soft breasts crushed against me, and the steady beat of her heart against my chest.

“Must have gone down.”

We could hear the voices of the guards through the closed trapdoor.

“Want to raise the field?” one of them asked.

The dampening field. If they raised that , I could use magic to hold us here rather than relying on the muscles in my shoulders.

“Better check the corridor first,” another voice. “You stay here, we’ll do a quick sweep. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

Ten minutes?! I gritted my teeth and braced myself. I wasn’t sure I could hold out that long; I was already in pain.

I felt Nyx move against me, which really didn’t help. I wanted to tell her to keep the fuck still, but we couldn’t speak for fear of being discovered.

With a shock of surprise, I felt her mouth on mine. I’d known Nyx ran hot but… really? Now? Here? Regardless, I automatically kissed her back, feeling her tongue slip into my mouth and…

I had to suppress my gasp. A warm heat flowed into me from Nyx’s kiss, leaving a tingling path as it coruscated through my body while we hung there. Suddenly, every slight movement of her body against mine was like sandpaper against my body’s pleasure centers—rough but so delicious. This wasn’t a magic spell that could be turned off by the dampening field, this was simply the raw power of Nyx that she was sharing with me. The pain drained from my shoulders and new strength entered me; I could hang here all day if I had to.

The sensation was unlike anything I ’d ever felt before. Of course, I’d heard the rumors (everybody had), that Nyx drew her power from sex, but I’d always assumed they were the sort of sexist assumptions thrown at any woman who has power in her own right—she must have slept her way to the top. Nyx hadn’t exactly done that, but she’d found a way to harness her natural sexuality and to use it, to give her a private store of strength that no one else could touch, unless she chose.

It did have noticeable side-effects. Aside from the passionate euphoria buzzing in my brain, which wasn’t appropriate at the current time, I was now sporting an impressive erection that was just as inappropriate. But Nyx ground herself against my arousal and with each twist of her hips the friction seemed to recharge me.

Was this how Nyx felt all the time?

I wondered how many people knew about the source of her power, and how big a decision it had been to share it with me.

“All clear?” Footsteps from above heralded the returning guards.

“Yeah. Must have gone down.”

We listened, hanging in the dark, until they were out of earshot.

“Can you reach the mechanism?” I whispered.

“I think so.” That was an oddly uncertain answer for Nyx. How much of her power had she given me? I felt her move and a moment later, the trapdoors began to part.

“Climb up me.”

Nyx clambered up and I followed her, staring at her flexible and athletic body with a wolfish hunger. I wanted to fuck her right here and now; on the floor, against the wall, in front of the guards, anything!

“Thanks for that,” I said, trying to control the desire running rampant inside me.

“Well, the hiding place was your idea. Let’s stop thanking each other and keeping track of who saved who. We’re on the same side for fuck’s sake.”

“Agreed.” And for the first time, I believed we were.

“One more thing.”

Nyx pushed me back against the wall, griding her body against mine so my still hard erection strained even further upwards. I growled with arousal, filling my hands with her firm ass cheeks then dragging up her skirt. Nyx lunged for my mouth, kissing me hard.

The shock of losing the power was as physical a jolt as gaining it had been. It drained from me, the lustful desire evaporating and my erection shrinking with embarrassed speed.

Nyx pulled away, her eyes bright and a wicked smile on her face.

“Sorry, darling. That’s mine. You need to earn that sort of power for yourself. And you need to know how to control it before you try walking around with it, otherwise you’ll end up trying to hump every woman you meet. Probably men too. And cars, trees, post boxes, pretty much anything you can stick it in. You gotta learn to ride the dragon.”

“You feel like that all the time?” I felt physically weaker now that the power was gone.

Nyx shrugged. “It hits you harder when you get it for the first time. On the other hand, I only gave you a taste.”

“It’s incredible,” I shook my head. “But I don’t know how you stand it.”

Nyx shrugged. “There’s a price to being me. Come on, we’re almost there.”

The pit trap seemed to be the end of the booby traps and Nyx led the way to a pair of double doors which she pulled open with a familiarity I noted. I was almost sure Nyx had lied to me about
why she wanted the lodestone kept here. Perhaps I was a fool to believe her in the first place. It didn’t matter much to me—the Masked Magistrates were a toothless organization who enabled despots like Duine and needed a sharp kick in the pants as a wake-up call. But if she didn’t want the lodestone for the reason she’d said, then why did she want it? It might just be the acquisition of power, but lodestones were dangerous, even for someone like Nyx. She had to have a reason. One thing I’d learned about her was that Nyx never did anything without a reason.

The chamber we entered was circular, and I realized this was the famous Circular Chamber of the Masked Magistrates. It was mostly occupied by a large round table surrounded by colored chairs.

“Where’s the lodestone?” I whispered.

“Look closely.”

I followed her eyes. In the center of the table was a glassy stone, magenta in color and irregular in shape.

“What do they use it for?” I asked.

“Decoration.”

“Really?”

Nyx shrugged. “The whole ethos of the Masked Magistrates is to have power and not use it. Which is why we hate them, right? And that’s what makes this a valuable lesson for them. We’re taking the most powerful thing in their possession and it won’t make one iota of difference to them. Idiots.”

She stood on a chair, walked across the table and held a hand over the stone. It began to glow and the woodwork around it began to smolder. Suddenly, the stone leapt up from the table into Nyx’s hand.

She turned to me with a cocky smile. “That was easy. Shall we…”

That was when the alarms started.

THIRTEEN

BRYN

When I looked back at my life, it seemed as if I ’d always been fighting the same fight. The fight for Luce had led to the fight against Luce, which had led to the Fir Darrig and the final battle for the Underworld, then Jolie had vanished. And it turned out the reason behind her disappearance was still the Darrig.

Nothing changed, everything was connected. What had seemed like a lasting peace had turned out to be a brief respite in a war against evil I wondered if I’d ever win.

It was n’t in my nature to get disheartened like this, but… Fuck it, I was tired! Even in the years at Kinloch Kirk, raising Rowan and Emma, years in which I hadn’t picked up a weapon except to train and to teach the girls how to defend themselves, I still felt like I was at war, and the absence of Sinjin and Jolie reminded me of it. Was a little peace so much to ask?

We walked through the Abyss, led by the Veit, Glottle. I couldn’t help but think about the fact that people said ‘ I’ve been to hell and back ’ like their problems were really something. Ha! If we got out of this alive, we’d be able to say it literally.

I glanced at Sinjin and looked away again.

I saw that.

The voice of Jolie in my head. I couldn’t help smiling, not at what she ’d said, but at the sensation of hearing her in my mind again. I’d thought for so long that I’d never again hear my sister’s voice, and it was insane how quickly I’d gotten used to hearing her again, as if she’d never been away. But she had been, and I was still unconvinced by Sinjin’s story.

He’s still just as beautiful as he always was, Jolie said in thought.

I’m not arguing that. How Sinjin looks was never an issue.

You two have had issues before .

So maybe this was a long time coming . Maybe we’d been fated to come together only briefly—long enough to bring Rowan into the world, and that was our job done.

I believe him, Bryn.

That irritated me. Well, you’ve been out of the loop for a while

.

My sister’s jaw tightened and I instantly regretted what I’d just said. Or thought. If anyone has a right to be pissed at Sinjin for making the deal, shouldn’t it be me? I’m the one who’s been down here all this time.

You have every right to hate him, I responded. And I wouldn’t blame you a bit if you do hate him.

I don’t hate him, though. I know Sinjin, just like you do. And I think you aren’t being fair to him.

Now, I could feel my own jaw tightening. I thought you were dead for ten years. I had to face Emma everyday, knowing her mother was gone and never coming back, I had to watch Rand go to pieces.

Sinjin didn’t just cost me my sister.

I believe him .

I don’t .

Why not?

That was the question. Why should I?

Because he’s Sinjin. Because he saved your life more often than I can count and would have given his life for you in a heartbeat.

How can you think he ’d be coward enough to sacrifice my life for his? That isn’t Sinjin and you know it. You just don’t want to face it because then you’ll face the fact that you’ve been wrong for ten years.

I didn’t respond. Maybe I’d just been thinking the worst of Sinjin for so long that, in my head, that was what he’d become.

Jolie being here with me again pushed my mind back to how things used to be, to the man I trusted above anyone, to the love of my life who would never hurt me, to the vampire who had overcome his own dark past to be a lover and a father.

How could I think these things of him? How could I ever have thought him capable of doing something so terrible to Jolie—
someone he loved?

And then the answer stared me right in the face. I’d chosen to blame Sinjin because itw as the easiest thing to do. Because the grief of losing Jolie had broken me, I’d lashed out, needing a scapegoat. I’d needed someone to blame so the pain of losing her had an outlet.

Maybe . Or maybe I was right and Sinjin wasn’t the man I thought he was, the man we’d all thought he was.

For the record ’ Jolie continued, I would have given myself up for Rowan in a heartbeat.

That’s not the point.

I know. But there it is .

Jolie smiled at me. “It feels good to be doing something together again.”

“It does.”

We weren’t made to be separated, Jolie and I. We’d grown up in very different circumstances, but when fate brought us together, it was as if we’d always been together. We were sisters who had waited a long time to be sisters, yet there were none closer than us. That was why her disappearance had hit me so hard.

I could have done things differently. I could have leaned on Sinjin, let him be a shoulder to cry on, rather than accusing
him. But all the evidence had pointed to this being his fault.

The only thing that had stood against the evidence was Sinjin’s word. The fact that I hadn’t accepted his word, I think, hurt him as much as any of it.

Where did we go from here? I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I even knew what I wanted—to be reunited with Sinjin as lovers? To go back to the way things were? I didn’t think any of it was possible. I mean… how would he be able to forgive me for ten years of hating him?

#

The path Glottle took was a circuitous one, winding through the marshes.

“If you’re screwing with us, Glottle,” said Odran, “then Ah swear ye will regret it.”

“Not screwing, no screwing,” Glottle insisted. “If we take the main route, we meet the patrols. This way is safer. Few come this way.”

“That’s mah boy.” I thought Odran was becoming quite attached to the dark Fae creature, as if he had a new pet.

“There it is!” Glottle pointed up ahead.

Through the odious mist that rose from the marsh, I saw craggy towers like a vast termite mound of ancient swamp mud, hardened by the centuries.

“That may take some time to search,” mused Sinjin, in his sardonic way.

“Orsik will be at the top,” said Morse, with confidence.

“He’s bound tae keep the tethering point near at hand,” said Odran. “He willnae want tae upset the Fir Darrig.”

“So we’re going to the top?” Jolie stared up. “There’d better be an elevator.”

“Ah’m sure there will be something,” said Morse, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about Jolie’s new friend. Maybe I was just suspicious because no one you met down here could be all good. Maybe it was me being the overprotective sister. Or maybe it was because the man so obviously had feelings for Jolie. You didn’t have to be a sensitive to see the lovestruck look in his eyes. I, of course, was a sensitive and so I could also sense the heartfelt longing he projected, haloed by a bright hope. He knew there were problems between Jolie and Rand, and he was hoping
this unattainable woman might not be as unattainable as she seemed.

None of this was a massive surprise; Jolie was brilliant and beautiful and just about the most wonderful person you could hope to meet. (Also, in the Abyss, the dating prospects were pretty limited , to say the least.)

But, what was more surprising was what I sensed from Jolie. I tried not to read my sister’s emotions too much—it could be intrusive—but we spent so much time in each other’s heads, we were bound to notice things. I was sure she’d picked up some unresolved feelings I had about Sinjin, and I’d noticed she had unresolved feelings for Morse. They were hidden, buried away, not to hide them from me, but from herself because she was a married woman and, after all this time, still saw herself that way. No one would have blamed her for hooking up with Morse, but that wasn’t the desire I sensed from her. When he made a joke, I saw her aura brighten; when he smiled, I felt her heart lift. She liked him.

It was barreling towards a complicated situation. Rand had become a monster, but when Jolie returned (and she would return) then maybe he would change? Or would he? Was he so far gone there was no coming back? And would she even be able to forgive him? After all the women he’d slept with and all the horrible things he’d done and the way he treated Emma… or didn’t treat Emma.

“Hisst!” Odran hissed , holding up his fist to bring the column to a stop and call us all to silence.

We all listened.

Someone’s coming . I heard Jolie in my head before I saw Odran giving the hand gesture to tell us all to scatter and hide.

The landscape offered plenty of good hiding places, but the swamp made it treacherous. Without Glottle to show us the safe path, we had to be very careful where we trod. But of course, care and a headlong search for cover do not always go together.

I felt the ground vanish beneath my feet as I trod onto the marsh. Automatically, I put out my hands to stop myself and saw them vanish through what looked like solid ground, but turned out to be sucking march. Terror contracted my stomach. I wanted to cry out, but with the Veits closing in on us, I couldn’t make a noise without giving away my friends, as well as myself.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed me beneath the arm and held me there, suspended in the warmth of the marsh. I looked up to see Sinjin, looking cautiously back towards the path. He looked down at me and put a finger to his lips.

I kept my mouth shut, though I was quietly furious to be saved by him.

But sometimes even keeping quiet can’t save you from bad luck.

“Hang on a minute,” we heard one of the Veits say. “I’m going to take a leak.”

The bushes between us and the path moved.

“You must be joking,” muttered Sinjin.

Grabbing my hands in his, he hauled me out of the swamp, just in time for the Veit to emerge through the undergrowth, pulling down his pants as he went.

“Do you mind?” said Sinjin, turning an affronted look on the Veit, “this stall is occupied.”

For a moment, the Veit was so taken aback, it just stood there, holding onto its pants. But in the next instant, it let out a cry. “It’s the girl that ran away!”

They thought I was Jolie. That wasn’t surprising. We appeared very similar, except for our hair color, and though a tough ten years in the Abyss had changed her, a dunking in the swamp had also changed me, so it was an easy mistake to make.

“How rude.” Sinjin gave the Veit a sharp push and he tripped, his legs getting tangled in his pants. Sinjin turned to me. “Shall we run?”

I nodded.

Maybe we could handle a squad of Veits, but we didn’t know how many there were, we were on their turf and at least this way we could lead them away from the rest of our party who had gone the other way.

“Over here!” I could hear the Veit yelling to his friends.

“What happened to you?”

“The girl! The one who escaped! And a vampire! They went that way!”

“Bring up the hounds!”

Great, they had dogs, as well.

Sinjin led the way as we ran, pushing through the thick vegetation of the bog. Though he was tall and solid, vampires could be incredibly light-footed when they needed to be, and he moved across the uncertain footing of the marsh like a ballet dancer, barely breaking the surface.

I was less lucky, which seemed very unfair. I weighed a lot less than he did and had all the grace and athleticism of a trained warrior, but I wasn’t a vampire and gravity was gravity.

“Sinjin!” The ground broke beneath me and I sunk into the marsh once more.

Sinjin didn’t miss a beat, spinning gracefully around, slipping an arm around my waist and springing across the unsafe waters of the swamp to land cleanly on the other side. The man fought like a lion, but he moved like a gazelle. I’d forgotten that about him. Or at least, I’d consciously blocked it out of my mind.

As he deposited me on the ground once more, we continued our headlong flight.

“Are they still behind us?” he asked.

I did a quick spin. “I don’t think so. Let’s lie low.”

A rotted tree that looked like the skull of a dragon, covered in moss and hung with crawling tendrils of vegetation, gave us the cover we needed.

“They had hounds,” I pointed out, after we’d waited a minute and no one came.

“Can they follow through this stench?” wondered Sinjin.

“Jolie mentioned ‘Bog Hounds’.”

“So they quite possibly can follow us.”

I looked back up the path. “Either way, if we head back, we’re going to run into them. It’s too much to hope that they would give up this quickly.”

“We might end up leading them back to Jolie and the others.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” I affirmed. It was possible the Veits had stopped chasing us in the hope that we would lead them to our friends. “Going back isn’t safe.”

Sinjin nodded with glum resignation. “Onward then?”

I nodded. “I don’t like it any more than you do.”

Sinjin shrugged. “I am perfectly content continuing together.

Although I would prefer you to clean up at your first opportunity.”

I was still covered in marsh mud while the vampire was…

“How is there no mud on you?”

“I am Sinjin Sinclair, Master Vampire. I always look good. One does not question it, one simply accepts it.”

I suppressed my laughter and then abruptly changed the subject.

“Maybe it’s a good thing we’re approaching this place from two directions. Doubles our chances of getting to the tethering point and freeing Jolie.”

“But how will we find each other afterwards?”

I gave him a look. “I can find Jolie. Always. You can leave that to me.” Then I frowned at him. “Have you really forgotten everything about our time together?”

“I remember the things that matter, Bête Noir .”

He said the words with feeling and I looked away from him. “Come on.”

So , it was just us again. Sinjin and me, alone, as we’d been on quests before. That was fine; we worked well together and we always came through. We just couldn’t dwell on the personal and everything would be alright. But it was hard not to dwell on it, because he was still Sinjin and I was still Bryn. And that was how that went.

“Did Rowan ask about what happened ten years ago?” It had been on my mind.

“No. In fact, she most specifically did not want to hear about it from me.”

“She said that?”

“No, it was a feeling I got.”

“I guess you went ahead and told her anyway?” I snapped.

“I did not. I simply said the way she understood things was not the way they happened.”

“How noble.” Maybe I was being cruel for cruelty’s own sake.

“We do not have to talk, you know. We could just walk in silence.”

I couldn’t help giving a humorless laugh. “When has that ever been us? We hated each other when we first met, but we still talked. We were enemies and you treated me… You were a jerk.”

“Yes, I was,” admitted Sinjin. “But I feel that jerkishness was displaced attraction.”

“Is that so?”

“You were the sexiest woman I had ever met, and I did not know how best to deal with you. Especially since you so resembled your sister. So I dealt with my feelings by being, as you say, ‘a jerk’ towards you.” He gave a little shrug. “It did not work; I still became infatuated with you.”

“My point was,” I dragged the conversation back away from words like ‘infatuation’, “that even when we were enemies , we talked.

It was mostly abuse, but still.”

He nodded. “It is true. I have never found anyone I could so easily talk to as you.”

“You mean a non-stop argument?”

“I mean someone who challenges me with every sentence.”

Conversation had been such an important part of our relationship, right from the start and it was why, now, the silences were the worst of all. Hatred we could bear, but silence was agony, and it hurt me as much as it hurt him. Maybe that was why I’d cut Sinjin out of my life as fully as I had; because if he’d been there in any way, I would have had to speak to him. We would have hurled abuse at each other, I would’ve blamed him and he would’ve criticized me for not trusting him, and sooner or later, that hatred would have become something else. That was the way with us.

But, we couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Too much had happened.

Too much we couldn’t take back. Things would never and could never be the same again. We couldn’t be together because I would always be the woman who hadn’t trusted him, and he would always be the man who’d sold my sister into hell—knowingly or not. It was too much.

I shook the thought from my mind and pointed towards the base of the termite mound of Orsik’s fortress.

“What do you think? Service entrance?”

At the bottom of the tower was a small oval entrance, far distant from the grand main gates and apparently unattended.

“I a m not sure,” replied Sinjin. “It looks almost too good to be true.”

“You want it to be more dangerous?”

“I would feel safer if it was.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Do I ever have a better idea than you, Bête Noir ?”

Part of me wanted to tell him to stop calling me that—a pet name he’d first used when I was his prisoner, when he’d used it to mock me—but it also gave me a warm glow inside that I hadn’t felt since… Not since the day Jolie vanished.

Picking a stealthy path through the ugly landscape of the Abyss, we approached the tower. There were patrols around, which gave us some comfort that we weren’t walking into a trap, but as we reached the entrance, it still seemed unguarded.

“I think it i s an air vent,” Sinjin said, peering closer.

“Bad guys always have air vents you can crawl through. It’s like none of them have ever seen a Bond film.”

“Are we going in?”

Crouched over, we dashed the final part of the journey to duck through the entrance. Inside was a tunnel leading on and up into the vast structure. It was imposing, but I felt a rush of excitement to be doing something like this again and, though I’d never admit it out loud, I was glad Sinjin was there with me.

“Shall I lead?” he asked

“Yes,” I nodded. “Wait.”

Sinjin turned back. And then I did something I wasn’t prepared for. Something that shocked the hell out of me as much as it shocked the hell out of him.

I grabbed his face and pulled him to me , kissing him hard on the lips.

FOURTEEN

EMMA

It was one of those dreams when you know you ’re dreaming, partly because I could see myself. I was a child, and it was my birthday

—a happy birthday with all my family. There was my cousin, Rowan, looking so little, held by her father, the vampire Sinjin. Beside him was my Auntie Bryn, her arm around Sinjin’s waist, her hand on his thigh—they were always touching each other, I now recalled. And with me… My father smiled proudly as I tore the paper from my present.

When was the last time I ’d seen him smile? I wondered. Then: when was the last time I’d seen him at all?

Seated on his lap was my mom.

It was a tableaux that ought to have made me sad for all I’d lost. My mom had been dead for ten years now. My father had become a different man, going from someone who adored me to
someone who couldn’t stand to even look at me. Maybe because I reminded him too much of his wife? Or maybe because he somehow blamed me for her disappearance? I didn’t know. All I did know was that after Mom’s disappearance, Dad had gone on to become another person altogether, one who was cruel and power-hungry and one who wanted nothing to do with me.

Sinjin and Bryn—the best couple I’d ever known—had split, wrenched apart by circumstance.

And, yet, I didn’t feel sad. Because I’d experienced all this, I’d been part of this family and I had these memories. Memories that could never be taken from me. My family had made me strong, made me who I was, and despite the usual teenage insecurity, I was happy with myself.

I was Emma Balfour, and that made me special.

#

I shivered awake with the cold, finding myself lying on a hard concrete floor that might as well have been made of ice. I gasped at the shock, passing from the warmth of the dream to a frigid reality.

I struggled to push myself into a sitting position and found I couldn’t because my hands were tied behind my back.

What the hell was going on? Where was I? Who had brought me here?

What had happened?

I closed my eyes in an effort to make s ense of things. I’d been with Jupiter and Kevin. And with Stone. I’d been in the school. I remembered the attack and the panic room. The knock at the door.

And then…

“She is awake!”

My eyes shot open as I heard a familiar voice. I knew it straight away. It belonged to a girl from my school named Clara—she was one of the best of the best students. We didn’t have any lessons together—she was younger than me, but already much more skilled in magic. I knew her only in passing. But, this was her, and yet…

it wasn’t her. It looked just like her, but there was a blue cast in her eyes, and when she moved it was… it was almost like she was an old woman.

Clara wasn’t the only one in the room. I knew all these students to some extent. They were my classmates, my year or a few below.

They were mostly people I didn’t really have much to do with and felt a little quietly jealous of, because they were all more talented than I was, but I knew them all—at least by face, if not name. And yet, looking at them now, I felt like I didn’t know them at all.

Like Clara , they all had that strange blue cast in their eyes—
the same shade that surrounded the werewolves when they attacked Elmington—and the way the students moved was wrong somehow. It wasn’t just that they didn’t move like themselves; there was a marionette quality to their actions. It was like they were re-learning how to walk and while they had the theory, they hadn’t quite mastered the practice.

I drew a sharp breath inward as one of them approached me, and my insides tied into knots. It was Clark.

“Emma.” He knelt down beside me, his bluish eyes roaming over me with an uncomfortable intensity. “You know me, do you not?”

“I don’t know you at all,” I hissed back. I didn’t know who this was, but it wasn’t Clark, a man who was my kinda/ sorta/ maybe boyfriend.

“I know you,” the Clark thing replied and even though it was his voice, they weren’t his words. “I look at you, and I feel…

stirrings. Quite like an echo, but I feel them, all the same. The feelings are… quite pleasant.”

“What have you done with Clark?”

“The man-boy is safe for now. Otherwise, I would not be able to feel what he feels or know what he knows.”

“I don’t… understand.”

He chuckled then. “This is a confusing world to navigate.”

At the corner of my mouth, I tasted salt, and realized that I had begun to cry. I wished I hadn’t, I didn’t like to show weakness in front of this… whatever this being was.

“My host,” he began. “Desires you very much,” the thing seemed to be drinking Clark’s feelings and enjoying them vicariously. “So much he wants to say to you. So much he secretly dreams of doing to you. He wants to touch you… here.”

I forced back the tears as the Clark imposter reached out to cup and squeeze my right breast. “Stop.”

He chuckled again and the sound was foreign. Clark had never laughed like that before. It sounded menacing and… scary. He let go my breast, but only so he could push up the hem of my skirt, exposing my thighs to that hideous blue gaze.

“These are his drives I feel,” the thing said.

“Clark would never!” I spat, tearfully.

The thing chuckled again. “Given half a chance, you could not stop him. This is what he thinks about day and night. I can hear him.”

I choked out a sob as the unwanted hand stroked along my thigh.

“Mmm,” he purred to himself. “Do you know how long it has been since I touched flesh?”

I squeaked in pain as he pinched my inner thigh.

“Firm and fresh, young and…”

For a few moments, his hand hovered between my thighs, not touching but definitely a presence. Then he smiled nastily.

“Yes; virginal . My host would change that, if he could. But, I sense a competitor to your affections.”

He must have been talking about Stone. I didn’t say anything but merely watched as he pulled my skirt back. I tried to buck against him, but didn’t get far, owing to the fact that my hands were restrained behind me.

“Do not appear so concerned. This is not the reason I have taken you.” He examined my face. “What is it that makes you so special?”

“I’m not special.” I don’t know why I said it.

He shrugged. “You ha d better hope you are.”

“Who are you?” I had just enough sense left to ask, the rest of my mind voided by terror.

“I was known as Cormag in my time.” Cormag nodded. “Call me what you please; it will not make a difference.” He leaned in closer to me. “Fight or submit, scream or be silent, call me all the names under the sun or beg for your life; none of it matters.

That sweet little backside of yours belongs to someone even I fear, and after centuries in darkness, there are precious few of those.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I nearly cried.

But it was as though Cormag wasn’t even listening. Instead, he continued talking. “What he plans to do with you, I do not know.

But you are the price, and I pay my debts.”

Cormag stood. “Such a shame. You are to be delivered undamaged, intact. It would have been nice to give my host a taste of what he has been missing. What I have missed for so long.”

He turned and walked away from me and my whole body felt as if it was contracting in on itself. Weirdly, the thought that rose to
the top was; Clark knew about Stone ? I wondered how much he knew; if he knew I’d kissed my professor.

None of it mattered now, but it felt as if I’d let Clark down—
someone who had only ever been kind and sweet to me. Someone who had maybe even loved me. Had Clark been chosen by Cormag just because of our relationship? If so, then this was my fault.

And what now? What had any of that stuff Cormag said meant?

Someone wanted me? I was payment? Who? And payment for what? So many questions and so few answers.

And then I asked myself: What would Bryn do?

Growing up without my mom, my aunt had been more than family; she’d been my hero. Mathilda had told me all about Bryn’s adventures from before I was born and I dreamed of being just like her.

I was off to a shit start; tied up and crying.

Emma, I yelled at myself. What would Bryn do?

I looked around my prison, assessing possible escape routes. Now that I was taking a proper look, I guessed this was a disused warehouse. If I listened closely, I could hear the sea outside.

Did that mean we hadn’t left Salem? The sea existed in lots of places, of course, but it was a possibility.

My back was to a bunch of old crates that smelled of damp and rotting wood. If this was a movie, I’d have found a nail sticking out that I could use to cut my ropes. Well, this wasn’t a movie but it was still worth a shot. With cautious fingers, I felt along the crates, but any nails I came into contact with were rusted so badly, they crumbled in my fingers. So much for the movies.

Maybe I could do a spell to untie the ropes or burn them or something. I was shit at magic, but that type of spell wasn’t all that involved, so surely even I could manage it? There was a chance I’d end up knotting my fingers together or setting fire to the warehouse itself, but it was a risk worth taking.

I took a deep breath.

“Don’t turn around.”

The voice from behind me was lower than a whisper, and I wondered if it was even spoken at all or just in my head by magic, but it was a voice that made my knees tremble.

Stone.

“Hold still and I’ll cut the ropes,” he said.

I wanted to say ‘ How did you find me? ’ almost as much as I wanted to throw my arms around him and cry. But I couldn’t do anything that might alert the ‘students’ to his presence. So I just sat there, quietly.

“Once you’re free, I’m going to create a distraction. Then you run. Got it? Don’t nod! Just waggle your right thumb, if you understand.”

Dutifully, I waggled.

How was he going to reach the rope to untie it? The crates were right at my back and he had to be behind them. A moment later , I felt the rope unknotting of its own accord. He might be a vampire, but Stone knew magic too.

“Ready?”

I waggled my right thumb furiously.

At the edge of my hearing I caught the magic words. Up ahead, I saw Cormag stand, as if the presence of magic had alerted him.

“Secure the doors!”

The crates behind him exploded in a blaze of fire, knocking him and the rest of the possessed students to the ground.

I sprang to my feet and tore towards the door as fast as I could.

I heard feet behind me and looked back, but my heart leapt to see that it was Stone, running after me.

Stone and I burst through the warehouse doors and out into the night air.

“This way!”

We dashed along the waterfront, leaping over obstacles as we went. Now I actually felt like Bryn. I was making a daring escape with my Sinjin beside me, my vampire lover—and Bryn and Sinjin always got away.

“That i s quite far enough.”

Cormag stood at the front of a group of the other possessed students, forming a wall in front of us. How they had gotten ahead of us, I didn’t know. They all had their hands out in front of them and, in the dark of the night, I saw a red glow circling their hands. Magic. Directed at us. More accurately, directed at Stone—they couldn’t afford to hurt me. I was ‘ the price ’ Cormag had to pay.

I stepped in front of Stone.

“If you want to hurt him, you’ll have to go through me.”

“What the hell?” I think Stone was embarrassed as much as surprised, but Cormag’s reaction soon told him why I’d done this.

The body of Clark sagged in irritated frustration. “Do not make this complicated. Step out the way, woman.”

“Let him leave unharmed and I do whatever you tell me,” I said.

“And what say you?” asked Cormag, talking over my head to Stone.

“I’m not leaving without Emma.”

“You see the problem?” Cormag addressed me again, his eyes narrowing. “Shall I point out the obvious? We outnumber you. And my magic is old magic. Much more powerful than a gypsy vampire.”

I was surprised he knew what Stone was. But then I wasn’t surprised because this Cormag person breathed power. ‘

For a moment , we stood like that, still as statues, as if everyone was waiting for someone to tell them what to do next.

But then, before the stand-off could be resolved, a strange sound came from across the open water.

Cormag screwed up Clark ’s face.

As we turned to look, I saw Stone clench his teeth.

“What are they?” I whispered, seeing the shapes, coming towards us, out of the sky.

“Vryloka,” replied Stone.

To Be Continued!

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ALSO BY H.P. MALLORY:

Paranormal Series: (Writing as HP Mallory)

Lucy Westenra Series

Mists of Magic and Mayhem Series

Lily Harper Series

Dulcie O’Neil Series (over 1 million downloads of the series!) Jolie Wilkins Series (New York Times bestselling series!) Sinjin Sinclair Series

Peyton Clark Series

NuLife Series

Reverse Harem Series: (Writing as Plum Pascal) Happily Never After Series

Sacred Oath Series

F My Life Series

About the Author:

H. P. Mallory is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author who started as a self-published author.

She lives in Southern California with her son and two cranky cats, where she’s at work on her next book.

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