“I don’t know,” Malek said.

Voltar’s fists clenched. “I’ve long suspected Tristol was up to something, but I didn’t have proof.”

“Is that why you’ve come?” Malek asked, keeping his voice steady.

“No. I have other business.”

What business? Malek took a human breath, preparing to lay out his plan. “Tristol isn’t what he appears. The Dark One’s pet is hiding a secret.” If Malek could convince Voltar what Tristol really was, Malek wouldn’t have to worry about getting rid of Tristol himself. Voltar would do the job for him. He hated anything with mixed blood. Even halflings. There was no demon more prone to vengeance than Voltar.

“Tell me more,” Voltar said, his body tensing under his leather pants and vest, ready for battle.

“You’ve lived how long?” Malek asked.

“One thousand years,” Voltar said, his voice hard. If he and Malek didn’t achieve immortality soon, they would both die.

“I’m nearly that old,” Malek said. “Druan was eight hundred years old when he was destroyed.” Malek leaned closer to Voltar and dropped his voice to a whisper. “How then has Tristol been here two thousand years?”

Voltar turned to Malek, his eyes dark. “Two thousand? Impossible.”

“Is it? I stumbled on an ancient Celtic myth of a black-haired ruler who lived two thousand years ago. I found a sketch. The resemblance to Tristol is… remarkable.”

“How could it be? We would have known if he’d been made immortal.”

“I followed him last night,” Malek said, “and watched him drink the blood of a human.”

“He’s a vampire?” Voltar hissed. “I thought they were dead.”

“So does the Dark One. He won’t be happy to discover his abandoned race still lives. We shouldn’t tell him yet, not until we’ve gathered proof. It won’t be easy to convince him that Tristol is one of them.” Malek allowed a small smile, anticipating what the Dark One would do when he discovered that Voltar had killed his favorite pet. Malek would be the last of the League. With Dana Rodgers—or Shay Logan, as she was known now—and Cody MacBain dead, Malek would have the book and all of earth at his command.

***

The glowing man spoke to someone behind her. The strange language flowed like silk, so beautiful it saddened her that she couldn’t understand the words. He turned to her, his eyes gentle and warm in a face beautiful and fierce, and she knew he wanted her to do something, needed her to do something. What? He opened his mouth to speak, and another voice intruded, this one smooth, but laced with darkness, luring her.

She rose from the bed and walked to the balcony. The breeze lifted her hair from her sweat-soaked skin as she searched the shadows.

Something brushed her legs, and Shay opened her eyes, startled to find herself on the balcony. How had she gotten there? She never sleepwalked. The sky roiled black over the trees, ominous clouds drowning the full moon, as leaves swirled furiously in the wind. Her nightgown brushed around her legs, sending a chill to her thighs. Her arm tingled, a feeling between pleasure and pain. She shivered, cold from the breeze, and heard something at her feet. The cat stood in front of her, hair bristling, tail swishing against her ankles. “Well, cat. You don’t look any happier to be out here than I do. We should go inside.” She hesitated, rubbing her arm as the night stilled, the tree limbs lifting like bony arms. Something moved at the edge of the woods. A man, several of them, lining the edge of the woods like sentries. They stared at the sky where the black clouds had cleared.

She stepped back into the room. That was the first she had seen it. She fell asleep on the way from the airport and had only a vague sensation of being carried. Someone had changed her into a nightgown. Cody? Had he slept there? No. The other pillow was undisturbed. The room was lit by a soft glow. A night-light? The walls were made of stone, the bed large and comfortable, covers tangled from her dreams. The room seemed to darken as she studied it. There was no night-light. The moon must have passed behind a cloud.

She relaxed a little. She was well protected there, from both demons and vampires. Ellis was dead. She still couldn’t fathom that he had killed so many people because of her. Shay’s eyes stung. How could she live with that?

The silver lining was finding out she had a half sister, though she hated the pain it caused Bree to learn that everything she took for granted—parentage, history, her name—had been a lie, just like with Shay. What a bizarre coincidence. Not just that both their pasts were shrouded in mystery, but that they were sisters, connected in different ways to the same clan. Shay was quickly learning that coincidence was commonplace within the clan. Destiny seemed to play a role in everything. Like mates.

It would take Bree some time to get over the pain. She said some harsh things to Orla before running out in tears. The devastation on Orla’s face had hit Shay like a fist. Cody was right, she hadn’t stopped to think how much she would hurt the MacBains and Nina by slamming the door in their faces. Their deception had been real, but so was their love.

Shay turned to close the balcony doors, and another figure caught her eye. He stood in the shadows, but she saw the jut of his shoulders, the familiar shape of his head. Cody. She opened her mouth to call out, but changed her mind. She needed to touch him. She brushed her teeth and dressed. The hallway was wide, lit by old iron sconces that would cost a collector a pretty penny, and thick rugs in rich colors that made her feel as if she had stepped back in time. Downstairs, she found the door and stepped into the cool night air. The cat darted past her, disappearing across the grounds. Even if she were blindfolded, she would have known she was in Scotland. The air smelled different there.

The guards stood tall and still, watching as she walked toward Cody. She saw the red-and-black flash of a kilt and thought she’d made a mistake, but he stepped from the shadows, moving close without touching her. The moonlight played on his striking face, making him look fierce. He had a sword strapped to his back, not the collapsible swords she’d seen, but a large broadsword. A gun was holstered on the belt of his kilt with a dagger sheathed on the other side. Ready for war.

“You okay?” he asked.

She saw flashes of blood, long claws, and white wings. Dead eyes, staring. She squared her shoulders. “I will be.”

“That you will. You’re a fighter.” He pulled her into a hug, his kilt brushing her leg. “Did you finally get enough sleep?” His breath was warm, and she longed to grab his hand, run with him upstairs, and forget about stalkers, demons, and vampires, but she couldn’t have him distracted.

“I suppose. I don’t even remember arriving.”

“You slept most of the way.”

“Did you give me a sedative?” she asked, stepping back and crossing her arms.

“No. Your snoring was all natural.”

“I don’t snore… do I?”

He grinned, and the flash of teeth made her knees weak. “Not much. But you talked a lot.”

“What did I say?”

“You said, ‘Oh, Cody, come here and ravish me—’” His voice rose, imitating hers.

“I did not. You’re lying.” The words fell like water on a fire, drowning both their smiles. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant, pip-squeak.”

“This is a beautiful castle.”

“Aye, it is. This is where I trained. It’s like a second home. Maybe a third. Guess I considered Nina’s my second home.”

“So there’s a castle just like this in New York?” Shay asked.

“Unfortunately.”

“You think Druan saw this place?”

“If Druan had seen this castle, even knew where it was, I think he would have at least made an attempt to slaughter the clan. There’s a book in the library that gives the history. Bree’s tracking down the names, but we’ll probably find that they’re just aliases Druan used. When the demons have been in one place too long, they move on, so no one realizes they aren’t aging. Sometimes they pretend to come back decades later as their own relatives.” Cody took Shay’s arm, and they started back toward the castle. “You must be hungry. You haven’t eaten in hours. Watch out, or Coira will have you round as a tub.”

“Coira?”

“Sean’s wife. You haven’t met them. Sean’s the Keeper of the book.”

“The lost book?”

“That would be the one.”

“Bree mentioned Sean. Where is Bree?”

“Last I saw, she was attempting to crash a restricted Council meeting.”

Shay’s hands clenched. “What did the Council say?”

“Well, they aren’t going to flog me for spilling the beans… again. That’s the good news.”

“Can they flog you?” she asked, not sure whether he was joking.

“No.” His fingers rubbed his wrist. “But they could’ve made things difficult. Still could, but they know they’ve made mistakes as well.”

“I don’t understand why demons and vampires think I have this book, or why they want it. What good would it do them to see a record of old battles? It’s fascinating history, but useless.”

“It doesn’t just have the past. It has the future too.”

“Future? Jiminy Christmas! You mean it lists battles that haven’t happened yet?”

“Aye. A demon could get the names of warriors and kill them off as soon as they’re born. That would destroy our clan.”

No wonder they were so worried about the book. “I guess if the ancient demons are trying to earn immortality, that would certainly impress their master.”

“Aye, it would. I’m meeting with some of the other warriors in a few minutes to discuss how the book might tie in.”