Chapter 2
“We’ll give him a real burial,” Ronan said to Faelan. Several of the warriors had met at the Albany castle to discuss the grave. The elders were in another part of the castle meeting about the same thing. The entire clan was disturbed by the discovery of the grave, but Faelan was taking it particularly hard. He’d already lost Tavis once. Lost his whole family. Now he had to deal with his brother’s death all over again. That must suck. Ronan could sympathize. It had taken him a long time to get over Cam’s death, if he had. He couldn’t imagine having to face it all over again.
“Shouldn’t we check DNA?” Cody asked. “Sam might be able to pull some strings and get it done quicker.”
Cody’s friend Samantha Skye was with the FBI. She sometimes helped the clan cover up activities that couldn’t be explained by normal means. She complained that she risked losing her job, but they all knew she loved the danger and excitement. And she had the hots for Jamie, Shay’s ex-fiancé, which made Cody happy since he was still jealous of the warrior who had almost married Shay. He watched his bride-to-be like the crown jewels in a den of thieves. Especially when Jamie and Ronan were around.
“It has to be Tavis,” Faelan said. “It’s his dagger, and the kilt was the right color. We know he was here. He helped dig up my time vault and move it.”
“Why does everyone think he was buried at sea?” Shay asked. Ronan felt Declan move behind him. He didn’t even have to see his twin to know he was there.
“Probably a cover story,” Declan said. “They wouldn’t want his grave connected to Faelan’s hiding place.”
Faelan nodded, and his hand found Bree’s. “We’ll have the funeral and put Tavis to rest.”
Bree leaned closer and put her other hand on his chest. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she started sliding off the couch.
Ronan shot forward, but Faelan had already caught her before she hit the floor. “Bree. What’s wrong? Is it the bairn?” Faelan held her close, his face pale. “Get Tomas. Someone get Tomas.”
“He’s not here,” Marcas said. “I’ll find Coira.”
Shay knelt beside her sister. “Her pulse is strong. I think she’s had one of her visions. Bree, can you hear me?”
“She did get that distant look on her face.” Faelan’s voice was hopeful. He was terrified of losing the baby. And Bree. Like he’d lost everyone from his life before. Ronan was doing everything he could to see that Bree and the baby remained safe.
“These spells affect her more now that she’s pregnant,” Sorcha said, her tone edgy. “It can’t be healthy for the baby.”
She wasn’t even flirting with Lachlan, who sat next to her. Of course, Duncan wasn’t here to witness her show.
“What do you want me to do about it?” Faelan asked, scowling.
Ronan shook his head at Sorcha. “You’re good with a sword, Sorcha, but you don’t have crap for tact.”
Brodie scoffed. “Sometimes I wish I lived back in Faelan’s day, when we didn’t have to deal with female warriors.”
“I can fix it so you don’t have to deal with a female anything,” Sorcha sneered.
“Back off, Sorcha,” Ronan said. “Go yell at Duncan.”
“That’s her problem,” Brodie muttered. “Duncan’s not here, so we’re taking the brunt of her bitchiness. I wish they’d just jump in the sack and get it over with so the rest of us could live in peace.” Sorcha’s face turned red. She clonked Brodie on the shoulder and left.
“Now what’s this?” Coira asked, entering the room as Sorcha swept out. “Marcas said Bree fainted.”
“We think she had a vision,” Shay said.
“Or it’s the bairn,” Faelan added, stroking Bree’s cheek.
Before Coira could reach her, Bree gasped and bolted upright.
“Anna.” She tried to stand, but Faelan held her still.
“Don’t stand up,” he said. “You might fall.”
“Sit still,” Coira said, “and let me check your pulse.”
“I’m not going to fall. I just had a vision. Anna’s in trouble.”
“Do you know where she is?” Ronan asked. He’d been the last to talk to her.
Bree put one hand protectively over her stomach, something she did unconsciously these days. “I think she’s in a castle.”
“Scotland?” Shay asked.
“She didn’t mention going to Scotland when I talked to her,” Ronan said. “She’d just gotten back from there.” The clan had two castles. The Connor castle in Scotland, the clan seat, and this one near Albany, New York, which Druan had used. They were still trying to find out how the demon had a castle that was identical to the clan’s.
“Jamie called Scotland earlier,” Declan said. “Anna wasn’t there.”
Cody’s arm slipped around Shay’s shoulder. “Where is Jamie?”
“Had something to do,” Declan said. “He’ll be back.”
Shane stood several feet away, quietly observing as usual. “I’ll check the secret passages and see if there’s any sign of her. Niall can help.”
“Me? You know I hate those damned passages,” Niall said. “They’re too small.”
Shane slapped Niall on the back. “Stop complaining and come on.”
“I can’t imagine Anna trapped inside, but stranger things have happened,” Ronan said.
“Like vampires,” Brodie muttered.
Shane and Niall walked to the fireplace and disappeared through the secret door.
“I’ll call Scotland and have someone check the passages there,” Cody said.
“What about the jet? Has Anna taken it anywhere?” Brodie asked.
“I don’t think so,” Lachlan said. “I talked to the pilot this morning.”
Bree groaned and Faelan held her closer. “What is it now, love?”
She clutched his arm. “It’s you.”
“Me?”
“You’re probably crushing her,” Ronan said.
Faelan relaxed his hold, and Bree turned worried eyes toward him. “You’re in danger too.”
“Who’s he in danger from now?” Ronan asked. “Druan is dead.” He was the demon Faelan had been assigned to destroy.
“Not Druan. It’s another demon.” Bree frowned. “I think.”
“You’re not sure?” Ronan still didn’t understand how Bree’s visions worked, but he knew enough not to discount them. She’d been right about too many things.
“He’s powerful. He must be a demon,” Bree said.
“Maybe this is what Jamie was talking about,” Shay said. Jamie was afraid something was brewing. A demon he’d been tracking had mentioned something about the League.
“Two of the ancient demons that make up the League are dead. Druan and Malek,” Ronan said. Shay and Cody had destroyed Malek together, each giving him a killing blow at exactly the same moment, something that had never happened before as far as Ronan knew. But Shay and Bree weren’t normal. They’d done things no warriors had ever done, like moving as fast as vampires. The clan believed it was something genetic they’d inherited from Edward, their father, since they had different mothers.
Shay had let go of Bree’s hand but stayed close to her sister. Cody stood behind her. After she’d almost died, he never let his bride-to-be far from his sight. He was as bad over Shay as Faelan was over Bree.
“Maybe it’s a vampire,” Brodie said. He hated vampires almost as much as Ronan did.
“Voltar and Tristol are still out there,” Ronan said. Both were bad news, really bad news. Voltar was a hate machine. He hated women, warriors, humans, even halflings—anything that wasn’t pure demon. And Voltar was behind some of the worst atrocities humans had ever seen.
“I don’t know,” Bree said, “but we need to protect Faelan and Anna. She’s in terrible danger. I sensed trouble before, but then I found the grave and I thought that must be it. I’m going to look for her. If I drive around, maybe I can pick up some sense of where she’s—”
“You will not.” Faelan put on his fierce, nineteenth-century warrior face. “We’ll look for her. You will stay put.”
“Faelan is right,” Coira said. “I want you to rest. No activity for at least a day.”
Faelan nodded. “That’s just what she needs. Rest.”
“You’d better put a lock on her door if you don’t want her sneaking off,” Ronan said. “Better yet, tie her up. And keep her away from Shay, or they’ll be off trying to save Anna by themselves.” This got him a frown from the sisters and worried looks from Faelan and Cody. Ronan envied both men and yet felt sorry for them. The sisters were a handful, in more ways than one. Beautiful and reckless as hell. “I’ll start looking for Anna. But I think we need to call a Seeker.”
* * *
Two days earlier…
Anna let Bree’s phone ring five times, and then she picked it up. “Hello.”
It was Ronan. “Anna. What the hell? Where have you been?”
“Scotland. New York. Looking for Angus’s notebook.” Sitting beside his grave. Regretting that she hadn’t been with him.
“You could have called and let us know you’re still alive. We’ve got ancient demons on the loose, and you just up and vanish.”
“I’m sorry. I should have called.” But the grief had caught her off guard. It had hurt when she first found out Angus was dead. But the real pain had hit when she sat in his room and looked at all his things. Saw all the research he would never finish. All the puzzles he’d never solve. And when she stood in the infirmary where he’d whispered his last words. I love you. She cleared her throat. “I haven’t replaced my phone.”
“I know you needed to be alone, but you have to check in. We were worried.” Ronan’s voice softened. Once, she’d heard it even softer. That wouldn’t be repeated. Not that it wasn’t good. Relationships didn’t work for her. She was just damaged goods. According to him, so was he.
“Time got away from me.”
“I know it’s been tough since you were so close. If you need a shoulder to cry on—hell. I guess you’d better find someone else,” he said sheepishly. They were trying to forget their mishap, but it hadn’t been long enough to erase the awkwardness. “Did you find his notebook?”
“Not yet. I’ll keep looking. That notebook was like his right arm. Whatever he found out he’ll have written down. How’s everyone?”
“Alive. But Shay almost died. She did die, but we revived her,” Ronan said.
“My God. What happened?”
“Malek happened. He was trying to kill her. You’ve missed a lot.”
“Why was Malek trying to kill Shay?”
“It’s a long story,” Ronan said. “But he’s dead now.”
“Who destroyed him?”
“Cody and Shay.”
“Both of them?” Anna asked.
“Yep.”
“They were both assigned?”
“Shay was,” Ronan said. “It’s a long story involving an unborn baby.”
“An unborn baby?”
“You can ask Shay about it when you get back,” Ronan said.
“You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not explain.”
“Yes I can. Maybe it’ll keep you from running off again. There’s still trouble. Voltar and Tristol are still out there, and those damned vampires. We captured the blond. He had the Book of Battles.”
“We got the book back?”
“We did. Sean has it,” Ronan said.
“I can’t believe it. That’s great. I wish Angus could have known. He spent so much time looking for it.”
“I’m sorry about Angus, but his death wasn’t your fault, Anna.”
“I should have been with him.”
“You were assigned a demon. You had to go. The job comes first.”
Anna sighed. This was true. But if she had finished sooner, he might be alive.
“Did you check the time vault?” Ronan asked.
“Not yet. I just got to Bree’s. So the clan still doesn’t know who brought it?”
“I think Angus must have done it,” Ronan said. “Who else could have brought the time vault? We know he was here looking for Faelan’s key.”
“Angus was too smart to try to take Druan down alone. He knew ancient demons have to be assigned.”
“Maybe it was for one of the other demons,” Ronan said. “The key is probably with his notes.”
“Maybe he hid them in the cellar. That would be just like Angus. I’ll check it out tomorrow.”
“Faelan and Bree should be home in a day or so. And get ready for another wedding.”
“Who now?” Anna asked.
“Cody and Shay.”
“I guess I have missed a lot.” After Ronan rang off, Anna hung up the phone and stared out the window at the crumbling chapel where the mysterious time vault was hidden. So Malek was dead, and the clan’s Book of Battles was back where it belonged. That was great news. Then why wasn’t she more relieved?
Feeling the need for fresh air, she grabbed a flashlight and walked outside. A front had moved in, breaking the lingering grip of fall, but it wasn’t the chill that made her skin feel tight. She’d been trained to withstand the cold. Something else was troubling her, and she wasn’t sure what. But it was linked to the chapel.
In the moonlight it had a haunted, almost beautiful look. The old church had seen more than its share of life and death over the years. Beauty. Evil. Demons. Battles. Time vaults.
Before she knew it, she was heading in that direction. She passed the graveyard where Faelan had waited for Bree to wake him from his tomb. It was like a fairy tale... except fairy tales weren’t real. Demons and monsters were. One of them had killed her best friend.
She stepped inside and turned off her torch, letting the smell and feel of the place sink in. A sense of anguish and loss. Was she sensing Angus? He must have been here in his search for Faelan. Most likely he had summoned the time vault in the cellar. Moving slowly, she made her way toward the front of the chapel, her hands trailing over pieces of pews that had fallen prey to time. One stood intact, its surface worn smooth from worshippers now resting in their graves. She touched the cold stone and felt an overwhelming rush of sadness. She lowered her body onto the pew, trying to figure out what she was sensing. The stone was warm, as if someone had recently sat there. She jumped up and looked around, but she was alone. Troubled, she hurried to the front of the chapel.
The hidden doorway to the cellar was still blocked. Faelan had restacked the fallen stones, covering the secret entrance. It was a wonder Bree hadn’t been killed when the wall fell, but Anna was beginning to think nothing could kill Bree. She’d survived things no human should live through.
Since she was here, she might as well check the time vault and the cellar. Both would make ideal hiding places for Angus’s notebook and the time vault key. It took Anna a few minutes to remove the stones. The sensible thing would be to wait for daylight and come back when she was properly dressed and wearing boots, but she felt compelled to continue.
Using her torch, she found her way down the steps to the cellar. It was bare except for the time vault. The floor and walls were mostly stone, so unless Angus had hidden the notebook under a loose stone or inside the time vault itself, nothing was hidden here. She approached the time vault and slowly touched the lid. The battle marks low on her back began to tingle. She was starting to get a little freaked, but she couldn’t leave without checking. She lifted the lid and looked inside. It was empty.
The time vault felt warm under her hands, and the air grew too thick to breathe. Beside her, shadows shifted, gathering into a form. She lowered the lid and stepped back, then reached for the dagger she kept hidden inside her boot, forgetting that she wore only a nightgown and flip-flops. She grabbed her talisman instead and braced for battle as the apparition shaped into a man wearing a kilt. His head was bent, his hair covering his face. Sorrow rolled off him like thick mist. She could almost taste his pain.
It must be done. There’s no other way.
A face began to form out of the mist.
“Angus?” she whispered. But she knew it wasn’t him. It didn’t feel like him. The apparition vanished, leaving only shadows and darkness. Unnerved, she hurried from the cellar without even stopping to hide the entrance. She would do it tomorrow. Outside the chapel, she pulled in a breath of cool air to clear her head. Exhaustion, stress, and guilt. That’s all it was. Angus was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.
Another whisper caught her ear, but this one was different. Real. She crept around the side of the old church and saw two figures near the edge of the woods. One was taller than the other.
“It was just a grave,” the shorter figure said. He was holding a shovel. “No time vault. I can keep looking, but the prisoner must be him. The brother is in Scotland.”
“I have to get him out of there before it’s too late,” the taller man said. There was something familiar about him, but Anna wasn’t close enough to ID him. “Wait until he leaves, then we’ll attack.” The voices faded as they disappeared into the woods.
Attack? They must be demons or vampires. Were they planning to attack the clan? There wasn’t time to go back to the house to get dressed. She hurried after them, moving past the dig where Angus had pretended to be one of Druan’s archaeologists as they searched for Faelan’s key.
A car started up ahead. They were going to get away. Anna turned and ran full speed back toward the house to her rental car, glad she’d left the keys inside. Keeping the headlights off, she drove quickly to the end of Bree’s long driveway and waited. Beams from an oncoming car broke through the fog. It had to be the men. There wasn’t much traffic on this road in the middle of the night. A dark vehicle passed. Anna could see the driver was a thin-looking man. She followed at a distance for several miles, passing the road that led to the Albany castle. Why hadn’t she replaced her phone? She could have called for backup.
Finally, the vehicle turned down a small, private road. Keeping her headlights off, Anna followed, but decided it would be best to continue on foot. This small road couldn’t go far, and she didn’t want to be spotted. She parked behind the large pines that lined the road and looked down at her thin nightgown and flip-flops, frustrated that she hadn’t had time to dress. She didn’t often get caught unprepared.
Retrieving the dagger she kept under the seat, she got out and followed the distant headlights. They abruptly vanished. Anna stopped. Where did they go? Maybe they just turned off the lights. Had they spotted her?
Keeping to the trees, she crouched low and ran. Something slammed into her shoulder, and she plunged into another world. A hideous face looked down at her. She jumped to her feet ready to battle and realized it was just a statue of a gargoyle. There were two of them. One on either side of ornate gates. Stone, wolf-like creatures lined an iron fence. It was one of these she’d hit, which explained why her shoulder ached.
Beyond the fence lay a massive structure. Blimey! It was a fortress. The Albany castle and the Connor castle could both fit inside this place. It had several levels with wings and towers. Anna scrambled behind the nearest creature and waited to see if anyone had spotted her. Other than a soft glow at several windows, the fortress was dark. Who lived here? Demons? Vampires? Definitely someone who dabbled in spells. Was it the same person who’d cloaked the Albany castle? The clan hadn’t figured out who was responsible for that bit of ingenuity.
She focused her senses, listening, smelling, and watching for movement. Demons stank to high Heaven if they were in their natural form. If not, they could be anyone. Her fingers closed around her talisman, reassured by the warm hum against her skin. But deep in her bones she knew something was wrong.
A soft rumble sounded beside her. Like breathing. She whirled, one hand on her talisman, the other gripping the dagger. The stone wolf was the only thing there, its teeth bared in a snarl. Anna’s adrenaline surged even though the creature wasn’t real. She moved, anxious to get away from those stone teeth.
A movement along the side of the fortress caught her eye. The skinny man was creeping around the corner, as if he didn’t want to be seen any more than she did. Leaving the wolf behind her, she ran after the man, keeping close to the shadows of the fortress as she moved past the long windows toward the back. A pale blond head appeared at one window. Anna ducked behind a tree, when she looked back, the person was gone. An icy prickle crawled over her skin. The vampire Ronan was hunting had pale blond hair, but he said they’d captured the creature. There must be others. If this fortress belonged to vampires, she was up the creek. Her talisman was useless against the creatures. The only sure way to kill them was to pierce their hearts or take their heads. She had her dagger, but vampires moved like the wind, making them a hard target.
Too late to turn back now. As soon as she had the thought, something flashed across the yard toward her, and she started running. The shape slammed into her, sending her headlong into a tree. She lay there, dazed, but a hiss jump-started her adrenaline. Grabbing the dagger she’d dropped, she leapt to her feet, slicing at what she hoped was a vampire neck. It wasn’t. The thing, whatever it was—she still couldn’t see it clearly—picked her up and threw her against the side of the fortress. Something cracked. She hoped it was the stone wall and not one of her bones. Rolling to her side, she gritted her teeth against the pain and jumped up. She heard a howling sound, and her attacker stopped. She could see now that it was a man, short, dark, with spiky hair. He was looking toward the front of the fortress, where she’d heard the sound.
Anna launched herself at him. He turned at the last second, but he was too late. She drove her dagger through his heart. A little more to the left than she would have liked, but it did the trick. With a startled gasp, he turned to ashes before her eyes.
A vampire. A bloody vampire. The howling continued, closer now. They must have guard dogs, and nasty ones from the sound of it. She hurried toward the back of the fortress in the direction the skinny man had gone—away from the dogs. There was a small offset entrance around the corner. The door was ajar. She smelled sweat and fear and hoped it was from the skinny man. She had to find out what he was up to, and she had to get away from those guard dogs.
Quickly, she eased inside and closed the door. It was quiet in here. Outside, the howls grew louder and more ferocious. The noise would draw any other creatures here. She had no idea if she was dealing with only vampires or if there were demons here too, but she had no choice except keep going and try to find the way up to the first floor and back out. With a place this size, there could be dozens, or even hundreds, of vampires or demons. She couldn’t take them on alone.
And Ronan would want to be in on this fight. He hated vampires after what had happened to Cam.
Anna checked her surroundings. There was a faint glow in here like she’d seen in the windows. A set of descending stairs led to the nicest dungeon she’d ever seen. And she’d seen more than she wanted in her many assignments. Demons loved castles. And apparently fortresses. She didn’t know much about vampires yet. The clan still had a lot to learn about their new enemy. This dungeon had a wide, arched corridor with suits of armor and statues lining the walls. Amber sconces provided the glow, giving the illusion of warmth when it was really cold.
The deeper she went, the more the place resembled a dungeon. There were several doors with small, barred windows. She came to another corridor and saw two cells on her right. One had heavy shackles attached to the wall above a stone bench and another set bolted to the floor. A low cry sounded from the opposite direction. An angry, helpless sound like an animal that knew it was dying. It was even more disturbing than the howling outside. Keeping close to the wall, she moved toward the sound. A door rattled, and she heard a dull slap, like a fist on flesh, followed by a groan.
“Not holding up so well today, are you?” a man said.
She couldn’t see if this was the skinny man, but it didn’t sound like his voice.
Several more slaps were followed by groans. Anna moved close enough to peer inside the room. The first thing she saw was a pile of clothing on the floor, and then she saw the naked man. He was chained to a wall by his wrists. His ankles were shackled to the floor, and his back was facing her. He was young and muscular with dark hair almost touching the angry red slashes that streaked his back. He snarled, and the muscles in his arms bulged as he yanked at his chains.
“One more,” his captor jeered. He was a big man, more fat than muscle, bald, and held a bullwhip with knots tied at the end. She couldn’t tell if he was a vampire, demon, halfling, or human. He didn’t smell like a demon, but if he was in human form, he wouldn’t. He might just be a nasty minion. He pulled his arm back and flicked his wrist. The whip snaked through the air and landed on the prisoner’s back, the knotted end digging into his ribs. The prisoner’s body jerked. He cried out, and his body went slack.
Bile rose in Anna’s throat. Was he dead? Her fingers tightened on her dagger, but it wouldn’t be wise to intervene now. She didn’t know who he was or what this place was. But it was bad.
* * *
The prisoner knewhe wasn’t dead. He hurt too much to be dead. That was the only thing he knew about himself. That, and that he was a killer. He knew this because he was certain exactly how he’d kill the fat guard holding the whip if he could get loose from these chains and rid of the cloudiness in his head. A door slammed deeper in the dungeon, and he heard a roar. He’d heard it before. What in hell was this place? Maybe this was Hell. Then he smelled it. Through the agony and darkness slipping over him, a light fragrance wafted on the air. He didn’t know how, but he knew that smell.
The guard loosened the chain attached to the prisoner’s shackles, and he fell to his knees. A cup was shoved to his mouth. “Drink.”
He wanted to refuse, but he was thirsty. He opened cracked lips and drained the cup. His body was shaking so half the contents ran down his chin.
“If you want to use the toilet, do it now.” The guard removed the shackles from his hands but left the long chain securing his feet to the floor. Still holding the whip, the guard forced him to his feet, then shoved him toward the strange pot in the corner. The prisoner stumbled into place and started to lift his kilt, and then realized he was naked. He took aim, as best as he could with shaking hands. Bloody hands.
A memory pulled loose from the emptiness of his mind. A man lying on the forest floor with deep slashes running the length of his chest. The prisoner could almost smell the blood. The man moved, his eyes widening with recognition. Pleading. Pleading for what? Mercy?
The prisoner looked at his hands again. Had he killed the man in the forest?
“You gonna piss or not?”
Through swollen eyelids he saw the guard leering. He always watched when he was naked or exposed. Bloody pervert. The prisoner managed a few drops, but it hurt too much to stand. He pushed the lever, this time too near collapsing to marvel at the water swirling as the pot emptied.
The guard forced him back to the wall and shackled his wrists, bumping the prisoner’s swollen finger. It was a clean break. It should heal in a few days if they would stop beating him.
“Don’t cause trouble and I’ll give you double food rations tomorrow.” The guard’s voice was sharper than usual, his smirk replaced with a worried frown. “Make me look bad in front of the master, and as soon as he’s gone again, you’ll starve. I’ll tell him you’re failing his experiments.”
The prisoner slumped against the wall, wincing when his back grazed the hard stone. But exhaustion was stronger than pain. The burning in his body gave way to gooseflesh from the cold. With no windows, the only way he could guess the time of day was by mealtimes. It must be evening. The fragrance was still there. Did the guard not notice? The scent pulled at him, but he couldn’t place it. At the least, it took his attention off his raw back.
He cradled his head between the wall and his raised arm as he’d done for the last, what... fortnight? Longer? He’d lost track of time. As soon as he closed his eyes, the dreams would likely return. Maybe this time they’d tell him who he was.
* * *
Anna hidbehind a statue and waited until the guard left the room. He was alone. The man he’d tortured was still inside. Alive? Dead? He’d closed the door, so she couldn’t see. The guard had to be eliminated. She didn’t know exactly who or what he was, but he was evil. He reeked of darkness and greed.
Her talisman wouldn’t work if he was a vampire. So she stepped out from behind the statue, aimed her dagger, and let it fly. The guard turned, and the blade caught him in the shoulder instead of the heart. He cried out, and Anna started toward him to finish him off.
“Stop,” a man ordered behind her, and a gun dug into the back of her skull.
“Stupid bitch,” the bald guard yelled. “Who the hell is she? No one’s supposed to be down here.”
“I got her.” The man moved around to her side, keeping the gun at her head. It was the skinny man she had followed. Neither of them appeared to have fangs. Maybe they weren’t vampires.
The guard yanked out Anna’s dagger and pressed his hand against the wound. “Shoot her if she moves.”
“Who are you?” the skinny man asked.
“And how the hell did you get here?” The fat guard nursed his wound. “Are you one of the new ones? You’re supposed to stay upstairs.”
“I followed him,” Anna said, motioning with her thumb at the skinny guy.
The guard frowned. “Lance? Where were you?”
His hand shook, but he covered it by changing positions. “Just went out to run an errand.” His voice sounded as shaky as the gun. He was lying to the guard.
“He was talking to someone, a tall man,” Anna said. “Very secretive. When he left, I followed—” The gun smashed into her temple, and everything went black.
* * *
Anna woketo shouts and the sounds of running. She lay on a stone floor. It was dark here. No sconces. She had no idea how she’d gotten here or how long she’d been unconscious. She didn’t feel any pain except for the violent headache from where the skinny guard had hit her.
“I think he went this way,” someone called.
She stood and tried to adjust her vision, but it made her head hurt worse.
“How did he get loose?” the fat guard yelled.
“I don’t know, but the master will flay us if he escapes.”
“There won’t be anything left of us to flay if this monster gets hold of us.”
Monster? Was he talking about the man he’d tortured? He hadn’t looked capable of escaping, much less hurting anyone. Anna listened to the sounds of the hunt, doors clanging and the guards shouting as she tried to get her bearings. She felt a warm breath on her neck and froze. She wasn’t alone. Whoever or whatever was behind her was close. Instinctively, Anna eased her hand toward her talisman. It wasn’t there. She lowered her hands, quickly but quietly checking to see if it could have fallen and caught on her gown. It was gone. A sick knot settled in her stomach. The guards must have taken her talisman and her dagger. She’d never lost her talisman, never even taken it off. A warrior was only half a warrior without her talisman.
“Who are you?” she said, keeping her voice calm.
No answer. Another warm breath. Closer? Her heart was pounding in her ears. If this was a vampire, she was screwed. Fists clenched, she slowly turned. The only think she could make out was a tall shape. Broad. Male. Definitely a male scent. There was something wild about the smell. Not quite human. The guards were yelling, coming closer. Anna threw a hard kick at his midsection. It didn’t connect. The darkness had swallowed him. She searched the blackness, but he wasn’t there. Then she heard breathing several feet away. Without her weapons, she wasn’t as effective, but she still had her senses, strength, and speed. She sprang toward the sound, and as she swung at his head, she saw another shadow dart past. There were two of them? She could see one of them now, and she struck. An arm reached out and grabbed her wrist, blocking her blow. She pulled free and went for him again. He ducked, but he wasn’t nearly as fast as before. Or he was a different one. One what?
She aimed a kick at his chest, and he let out a groan. His arms locked around her, and she smelled blood. Then she realized he wasn’t pinning her. He seemed to be holding on to keep from falling. Over his labored breaths, she heard the guards coming.
“We need to check this section. He can’t have gone far.”
She stepped back, and the man fell with a thud. Anna moved to the corner of the cell, away from the voices and the person she had fought. Where was the second man?
“What happened to the lights?” the fat guard asked.
“I don’t know. They were on earlier when I brought his food.”
“Turn them on.”
“I’m getting them now.”
The dim glow was almost a shock after the pitch-black darkness. Anna was in a cell, and a man lay on the floor. Dark hair covered his face. He wore a white shirt and a kilt—or the shirt had been white at one time. Now it was smeared with blood, like his hands. He couldn’t be the person who’d been behind her. He’d moved too fast, like a vampire. This man looked like the one she’d seen in the torture room. At least he was dressed now.
The fat guard caught sight of the man and cursed. “How did he get here? I left him in the torture room,” he said, confirming Anna’s suspicion.
“I didn’t bring him here.” The skinny guard was defensive.
“I didn’t either... holy hell. It must have been the hybrid.”
“Why would he do that? And how did he get the door open? I’ve got the key.”
“What is he? A ghost—dammit. What’s she doing here?” The fat guard had caught sight of Anna. “What the hell’s going on?”
“I did put her here,” the skinny guard said. “I had to lock her up quick, and I only had this cell key. The hybrid must have brought him later.”
The fat guard cursed. “We don’t have time to move them both. We’ve got to find that damned hybrid. Put one of them in the next cell.”
“She’s conscious,” the skinny guard said. “I’ll move her.”
“I’m surprised she’s alive, as hard as you hit her. And just as she was starting to talk. I think you’re hiding something, Lance.”
“She was getting ready to attack. I saw her muscles tense.” Lance, the skinny guard, opened the cell door and pointed his gun at her. “Get out here.” His eyes were filled with hatred. He was hiding something from the other guard, and she’d outed him. As soon as he found the right moment, she knew she’d be dead.
Keeping a close eye on him, she left the cell. “What are you? Vampire? Demon?”
Fear flashed in his eyes as he opened the door to the adjoining cell. The gun was still pointing at her. “Get inside.”
As Anna entered, she glanced back at the man lying on the floor in the other cell.
Lance slammed the door. “What are we going to do with her, Bart?”
“We’ll have to deal with her in the morning,” the fat guard said. “Let’s find the hybrid.”
“I don’t know why they don’t just destroy him since we have the new specimen.”
“The master wants to make sure this one works out first,” Bart said. “Let’s go deal with this mess.”
“You gonna leave him unchained?” Lance asked, nodding toward the prisoner.
“He’s no threat in that condition,” Bart said. “And I drugged him earlier. I’ll chain him in the morning.”
She’d beaten up a tortured, drugged man. Hell, what a night. She waited until the footsteps faded and then walked to the bars between their cells. The dungeon was still relatively dark, even with the sconce, and she couldn’t see the man clearly. She could only assume he was alive. “Hey,” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”
His fingers twitched, and he tried to move but collapsed to the floor again. His hair still covered part of his face, and he wore a beard. From what she could see, his eye and cheek were swollen and streaked with blood. A memory of Angus’s battered face flashed through her mind.
“Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
He rolled slightly, and his hair fell back from his face. Anna’s breath caught. “Faelan.”