“I hope you can forgive an old man for keeping secrets, but your mission was too important to get sidetracked by vengeance. Your father wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“I understand,” Faelan said, not sure if he spoke the truth. “That’s not why I called. Remember Nigel Ellwood?”

“The Watcher who vanished?”

“He had a son. Samuel.”

“How do you know—”

“Bree is Nigel’s descendent.”

“Our Bree?”

“I found a genealogy chart with Nigel’s name. Samuel changed his surname to Wood.”

“Och, this puts things in a different light, it does. I’ve seen how you look at her. I’d wondered…”

“She’s my mate. I knew as soon as I saw her, but I thought it was the time vault messing with my head. How could it be? We’re from different centuries.”

“God made time. I reckon he can manipulate it if He wants.”

“But I failed my assignment. If I’d let those warriors stay with me, if we’d succeeded with Druan the first time, I wouldn’t be here. I never would have met Bree. So how could—”

“Maybe this worked out the way it should. Could be it was meant for you to stop Druan in this time and not before. And could be there’s something more for you to do. You said Michael warned you about the book. Why warn you and no one else?”

“He said something about a necessary sacrifice.” His family? His father and brothers who’d died helping him, his mother, Alana? Or was Bree the sacrificial lamb?

“I don’t know why Michael doesn’t tell us everything. I suppose it’s part of the journey. I think we’ll know the answers when we’re meant to know them. Stop beating yourself up over that war. It wasn’t your fault. You were probably never meant to stop it, no matter how many warriors you had with you. Same goes for Druan. I know you blame yourself for not suspecting he was the archeologist, but anyone would have thought Russell was the demon after how he treated her. It was just bad luck that he resembled Druan’s human shell.”

Faelan rubbed at the knot of tension in his neck. Still, he should have insisted on meeting Jared. The demon had stood on Bree’s front porch while Faelan hid in the family room, not fifty feet away.

“Don’t give up, lad. We’ll find her yet.”

But they’d searched for four days. Did she have food and water? Was she injured? After he hung up, Faelan walked back to the bed. He picked up the earring in the marble cup, the mate to the one she’d lost in the crypt. She’d been so busy helping him that she hadn’t taken the time to search for it. In the morning he would find it, as he’d told her he would. It might be the last thing he would ever do for her.

Faelan touched the earring to his lips and dropped onto the bed. He lay back, resting his head on Bree’s pillow, and hugged her coat to his chest, wondering if she was cold now that the nights had turned cooler. Her scent surrounded him as her voice brushed his ear, pleading for him to hurry.

“I don’t know how to find you,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling until exhaustion overtook him.

***

Michael the Archangel stood before Faelan. Not the plump, androgynous thing with wings that graced masterpieces of art. This was the warrior angel. More than seven feet tall, glowing, clad in white and gold. Fierce, but beautiful, his presence so blinding he could come only in visions and dreams.

Each time Michael came with an order, Faelan was more humbled, more aware of how much help he and his clan needed to win these battles. It couldn’t be done with swords and talismans alone, the same way human responsibilities weren’t meant to be carried alone.

This time the archangel didn’t bring orders but stood watching Faelan as he slept. Was he asleep or awake? Faelan didn’t know. There was concern and kindness in Michael’s face and an urging for him to do something, but Faelan was tired; he wanted to sleep, to forget.

“Faelan, wake. What you seek is near.”

The pull of evil was strong, urging him to shut out the vision.

“Faelan, now.” Michael clapped his hands once, and a noise like thunder pierced the dream.

Faelan sat up, surrounded by the strange glow. The archangel had been here. What you seek is near. What did it mean? Faelan had been sent to destroy the virus and eliminate Druan. Both were finished. Did Michael mean the book or the key?

Rubbing his hands over his face, he stood. The light of dawn was easing through the blinds. The earring lay on the table beside the bed. Bree thought she’d lost its mate in the crypt. He needed to go there anyway to send the time vault back. Even without the key, it was too dangerous to leave it here. He pulled on a T-shirt and his kilt and made his way to the kitchen, first cleaning up the mess on the floor, then swiping his finger through the jar of peanut butter. He didn’t remember if he’d eaten yesterday or the day before, and he didn’t care, but his body needed food so he could keep searching. After brushing his teeth, he left the house, his thoughts too dark to be warmed by the sun. He unlocked the crypt, wondering how he’d find something as tiny as an earring, and the words came again. What you seek is near.

Why would the archangel, charged with commanding the armies of Heaven, care about an earring? He must mean the book or the key. Faelan started to search, beginning with the floor. There could be a loose stone, like the floorboard in his bedroom. A sparkle caught the reflection from the sun coming through the door. The earring lay face down in a crack. Faelan picked it up and put it in his sporran, praying he’d see Bree wear it again. He continued searching for the book and key, but there was nothing here but the time vault.

Might as well send it back now. He couldn’t take a chance on someone finding the key and figuring out what the vault was used for. Druan was no longer a threat, but the vampires had Faelan troubled. He’d blocked the steps to the chapel cellar until he could send that time vault back. The key still hadn’t been found. It wasn’t in Angus’s things. Two missing time vault keys. Not something the clan should have to worry about with vampires on the loose, but Faelan didn’t want to pull any of the Seekers away from looking for Bree.

The stone slab covering the vault slid easily. He pulled the talisman from under his shirt and lined up the symbols to return the vault.

No! The thundering command was clear. What you seek is near.

He’d searched for the book and the key. They weren’t here. Faelan stared at the time vault, a terrifying thought piercing his mind. What did he seek above all else? Not a key or a book. Bree, his mate. Could Druan have done something so vile? He’d said Faelan would never find her, not even in two lifetimes. The key was missing. The perfect revenge. Faelan’s body felt numb. He slid his hands across the prison, trying to feel if she was inside.

Hurry. Her voice brushed his mind, and his talisman grew warm against his chest.

She was in there. Druan had locked her in the time vault and it wouldn’t open for a hundred and fifty years, assuming he found the key. Even if he did, he’d be dead by the time she could be released. She would wake as he had, with everything she knew gone, her family and friends dead.

“No!” His roar of anger echoed off the stone. He punched the wall with his fist. Druan had stolen everything else. He would not steal her. Faelan touched the engraved symbols, trying to reach her. He’d take another time vault and get one of the warriors to lock him inside, leaving a note so he and Bree could be awakened at the same time. He didn’t care that it was breaking the rules. He’d face Michael when the time came. Who would do it? Ronan? Faelan’s talisman grew uncomfortably hot.

He remembered the vision of the archangel, the kindness in his eyes, the voice leading him here. Why would Michael bring him to Bree if she couldn’t be rescued? She wasn’t ordinary. She’d saved the world. She’d survived looking at an engaged talisman and destroyed a halfling. The talisman was painful now. He had an idea, but if it didn’t work, he risked killing himself and her, too.

Uttering one last desperate prayer, he readjusted the symbols, setting the talisman to destroy, and aimed it at the lock. The air grew heavy as the words flowed from his tongue. A rumble rolled up through the floor. A flash of white light shot out from his talisman, followed by a loud pop. Colors flashed, blue, orange, and green as Faelan was flung against the wall.



Chapter 35


Faelan pulled himself up and stared at the time vault. He grabbed the lid and threw it open. Bree lay inside, her eyes closed, face bruised. A trail of blood ran from her neck, staining her collar. Faelan barely had time to recollect the puncture marks on Russell and the vampires hidden among the demons, when Bree’s eyes flew open, and she screamed. Clawing her way out of the time vault, she shoved past him and ran for the door. Shock dulled his senses. She was halfway through the graveyard when he caught her.

“Bree, stop.” He leapt and grabbed her, pinning her arms when she tried to struggle. They fell over a headstone and crashed to the ground. He rolled on top of her. “It’s me, Faelan.”

She stilled. He eased his hold and leaned back, giving her room to breathe. She lifted her face, but it wasn’t red eyes and fangs he saw. It was terrified green eyes, human eyes that widened with recognition. And he could see the blood was from a gash on her neck.

A tiny sob escaped her lips as she touched his face in disbelief. “You’re not dead. Oh, God, you’re not dead.”

Faelan sat up and pulled her against his hammering chest. She was alive. In his arms, safe. They sat there, clasped together, unable to find words.