Conall pointed to the opposite wall. “Over there’s where I heard someone behind the wall, before I found you. I couldn’t figure out how to get inside. The catch isn’t like ours. I’m guessing it was Bree.”

The pain of her betrayal hit Faelan again, but if he thought too much on what Sorcha said, that Druan was playing games, the distraction would be worse.

Tuning their eyes to the dark, they descended into the dungeon. Once they were in place, the warriors whispered their locations through their microphones.

“I don’t understand what these demons want anyway,” Conall said.

“They’re pawns. Their master wants the human race extinguished. He’s furious at God for casting him out and creating us.”

With his back flat against stone, Conall slid around the corner. “No one here.”

“Check every room. Who knows where it could be hidden. I suspect Ronan and Declan will find something in one of the towers. That room Bree was locked in was used for something. I should’ve checked it, but I had to get her out of there fast.”

“Is there something between you two?” Conall asked. “Ronan said you and Bree were… I guess I figured you and Sorcha would be mated. Have you felt the bond for one of them?”

Had Conall seen the mark on Faelan’s neck? He’d untied his hair to hide it. He didn’t want anyone asking questions he couldn’t answer.

“Sorcha’s nothing to me but a cousin.”

“And Bree?”

Bree. He couldn’t explain things he still didn’t understand. The passion, the sense of belonging he felt with her, even when she was driving him barmy. Like he’d found a missing part of himself.

Duncan’s voice came across the earpiece, sparing Faelan the effort of trying to explain. “Demons here. Six of them. Sorcha, look out!”

Before he could think, Faelan started toward the stairs. He stopped when Conall caught his arm. “Female warriors,” Faelan muttered. He spoke into the microphone. “Can you take them?”

“Sorcha’s already killed two,” Duncan said over the screams. “Leave one of them alive… bloody hell, woman. I was going to question him.”

“You should’ve said so,” Sorcha grumbled. “I see a demon, I kill him. You need to take a chill pill, cousin.”

“Stop calling me cousin.”

Conall grinned. “I wouldn’t want to cross her. Guess it was different in your time.”

Faelan nodded. He’d never thought women inferior, as some men did. He always held them in high regard, but they were precious, to be handled gently. He couldn’t imagine going into battle with one, but the other male warriors seemed to regard them as equals on the battlefield. He’d seen Sorcha and Anna at practice and knew they could hold their own.

Bree was just as strong. She’d opened his vault, fed him—no easy task in itself—and helped him find his family. She even saved his life with his own dirk. He wanted to believe he could’ve escaped if she hadn’t destroyed the halfling holding him, but he wasn’t sure. She tried to rescue him from the castle when he didn’t need it and may have loosed his chains when he did. She’d excused inexcusable behavior and let him make love to her more than once.

“You okay? You don’t look so good,” Conall said, glancing up from the map in front of him.

He nodded. Had he made a mistake? He couldn’t think about it now. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“There’s a metal door here.”

“I’ll go in first.” Faelan entered the small empty room. There was another door at the back. Excitement started to build until he saw it was unlocked. Druan wouldn’t leave his virus unsecured. Faelan stuck his head in. Stockpiles of swords and guns lined the walls, more than Druan could possibly use.

Conall moved in behind him. “Blimey. He’s got enough weapons here to wipe out an army. Bet he’s selling them to finance all this.”

“Could be for his halflings.” They couldn’t summon weapons at will. Only full demons had that ability. “Or he’s arming his supporters. You and I know human wars don’t start with humans.”

“If we set a small explosive here,” Conall said, pointing to the door, “we can destroy the entrance without bringing the roof down on our heads. They won’t be able to get to the stuff. We can come back later and destroy it or take it.”

“It’ll announce our presence, but if we can keep these weapons out of their hands, it’ll be worth it.”

“I’ll put a delay on it so we have time to take cover.” Conall planted the device, and they left, shutting the door behind them.

“We found a stash of weapons,” Faelan told the others. “We’re sealing off the door. In about two minutes the floor’s going to shake. Let’s stand back and see what bugs come running.”

“This is where I found you,” Conall said, pointing to a small room behind them.

Faelan moved inside. The scent of death hung in the air. He glanced at the heavy chains hanging from the wall and the pile of clothes in the corner. Kneeling, he turned the body over, wrinkling his nose against the smell. It was the man he’d found beaten in Bree’s backyard. Russell. His injuries were worse. Druan must’ve worked him over again. Whatever part Russell played had sealed his fate.

“The dead guy had some kind of book under his sweater. Leather-bound, like a journal, but I didn’t have time to take a closer look.”

Faelan pulled up Russell’s dirty sweater, not worrying about the stench. “There’s nothing here.”

Conall knelt and looked for himself. “It’s gone.”

“Damnation.”

“What is it?”

“It was the Book of Battles,” Faelan said.

“I thought you hid it.”

“It was gone when I got back from Scotland. Russell must have stolen it.” Not Bree. What else had he accused her of that she hadn’t done?

“I should’ve taken it,” Conall said, “but someone was coming, and my hands were full.”

With me, Faelan thought. “Don’t blame yourself. I saw it on him too and didn’t know what it was. He kept mumbling about protecting something. Must’ve been the book. I think he realized too late what he was up against.”

Conall checked his watch and warned the others. “Thirty seconds till it blows.”

“What’s this?” Faelan asked, pulling an envelope out of Russell’s shirt. It was addressed to Bree. Faelan stuffed it in his pocket and noticed the wound on Russell’s neck. He scrubbed at it with the edge of Russell’s sweater, uncovering two puncture marks. He drew back in shock.

“That looks like—” Conall’s words were interrupted by the explosion.

Faelan leapt to his feet as footsteps sounded on the stairs “You ready?”

Conall nodded, glancing back at Russell’s body. He drew his sword as the footfalls grew louder. Both men sprang out at the two newcomers, still in human form. They weren’t even armed.

“Minions. This’ll be messy.” But it had to be done. Once they turned evil, it was too risky to trust them. Faelan plunged his sword into the minion’s heart a second before Conall took the other one’s head.

Both warriors stood mute, staring at the piles of dust on the floor.



Chapter 33


Conall’s face was ashen. “Blimey!”

Faelan’s head pounded. “We’ve got a problem,” he said into his microphone. “We just killed two…” he looked at the dust again, “two vampires.”

There was total silence. “Vampires?” Duncan said. “Must be one of Druan’s tricks, like the invisible castle. Vampires don’t exist.”

“This is no trick. I’m looking at two piles of dust and a dead man with holes in his neck.” Maybe the question wasn’t whether Bree was human or halfling. Talismans wouldn’t kill a vampire. But why would a vampire have been in Druan’s bed? Vampires and demons were enemies. Then what were they doing in a demon’s castle?

“Are you sure?” Ronan asked, his voice strained.

“Dead sure.”

“I thought vampires were destroyed centuries ago,” Niall said. “Shane! Behind you.” There was a shriek. “What the… Shane’s down!”

Faelan and Conall raced up the dungeon stairs two at a time, their footsteps pounding down the corridor as they followed the yells. Faelan rounded the corner and saw Shane slumped in an arched doorway. A high-pitched wail sounded from inside the massive room, a library, as Niall extracted his sword from a halfling a second before it disappeared.

“Bastard threw the knife from across the room,” Niall said. “You’re right. There was a bloody vampire right in the middle of a punch of demons. Shane stabbed him through the chest, and he sprouted fangs and tried to run. Three of them got away.”

“We’ve got them cornered,” Duncan said. Screams echoed from down the corridor. Sorcha and Duncan arrived minutes later, faces grim.

Faelan leaned over and checked Shane’s pulse. “He’s alive. Tomas, we need you here.” He had the most knowledge of injuries. All warriors knew the basics of caring for wounds and illnesses. It was one of the things they learned in order to become a warrior, but some had special medical training. That had stayed the same. The clan still avoided outside doctors if possible.

“’Course I’m alive.” Shane opened his eyes and reached down, yanking the knife out of his chest. “He wasn’t that good.” He gave a pained smile, but his face was sallow.

Faelan pulled off his shirt and pressed it to the wound. He remembered Bree doing the same for him after the chapel battle. “You need a doctor.”

Tomas arrived and confirmed Faelan’s opinion. “It’s fairly deep. I can stitch it, but I think he’ll be better off if we get him to a hospital. Tell them he fell on a piece of metal.”

Shane protested, but Faelan wasn’t taking any chances. “Another demon could finish you off before you recover. We need to get you away from here.”

Sorcha sheathed her sword and knelt by Shane. “Cody said Druan has a chopper. I’ll fly Shane out. If we can find the key.”