“You’ve got to get up,” she said, shaking him.

He roused, and she helped him to his feet as Voltar and the hybrid hissed and clawed at each other across the room. Panting, Anna dragged him toward the secret door. With one arm around her shoulder, the two of them scuffled through the passageway. It was black inside, and it took all Anna’s vision to make out the walls. She had no idea where the passage led, but if it didn’t lead somewhere fast, he would die.

Second door on the left. She dragged one hand along the wall at shoulder height, feeling for something that might indicate a door. Neither of them spoke. The prisoner’s breath was shallow. It was a wonder he was alive after taking on an ancient demon. That meant death unless the demon was assigned. What about her? She’d battled him too, though not as fiercely as the prisoner. She wasn’t at her best, but she didn’t feel like she was dying.

After several minutes, the mustiness of the passageway changed, and she got a whiff of fresher air. She felt a bump on the wall and found the first door. She continued, praying the hybrid hadn’t lied. “There’s the door. Hold on.” Don’t die on me. She found the catch. The stone grated as the door opened, and they stumbled into the dark night.

“This is the side of the fortress. We have to get to the front. My car is hidden outside the veil.” She needed to get him to a hospital, but they would ask questions she couldn’t answer. The Albany castle had an infirmary and warriors to help, but she couldn’t risk Voltar or Tristol following them to the castle. The clan hoped to keep its use secret. Then again, it was cloaked like Tristol’s fortress, so he probably knew its location already. He’d probably cloaked the bloody thing himself, unless cloaking was something all the ancient demons could do. That could help explain why the ancients were so adept at avoiding capture, or even being seen.

“Car?” His voice was thick.

They moved unchallenged to the front. No one tried to stop them, but the stench of demons was strong. Had they left anyone alive? The only sound came from the other side of the fortress. Snarls and howls. The guard dogs must have something cornered. She hadn’t seen them, but they sounded big and fierce. When they got within view of the gate, Anna saw the stone wolves were gone, and the growling sounds were moving this way.

“Oh my God. Run!” She hurried toward the fence, half dragging the prisoner. She glanced back and saw the massive creatures, not stone now, but flesh and blood, eyes red, long fangs snapping like hellhounds.

“They smell my blood,” the prisoner said, pulling free. “Go on without me.” The wolves were only a hundred yards away.

“No.” She grabbed his arm and yanked. “You’re not dying on me now.” But she knew as injured as the prisoner was, the wolves would catch them before they cleared the fence. She needn’t have worried. The iron gate stood open. They ran through and kept on running. When Anna glanced back, the fortress was gone, though the snarling continued. She expected to see them leaping at her from thin air, but the wolves didn’t follow. Maybe they couldn’t move past the veil.

By the time they reached the car, she was slumped under the prisoner’s weight and sweating with exhaustion and fear.

“Not again,” the prisoner muttered, looking at the car.

“What?”

“I’ve been in one of these before.”

Anna heard a roar behind them, but this didn’t sound like the wolves. Voltar? Tristol? Whatever it was, they needed to get out of here now. She quickly helped the prisoner inside and reclined his seat since it seemed questionable how long he could remain sitting. Then she hurried around to the other side, started the car, and threw it into gear. With one eye on the mirror, she raced away from the fortress. Even lying down, the prisoner bounced around the seat so much Anna was afraid he’d hit his head on the door and that would finish him off. Holding the steering wheel with one hand, she leaned across him and buckled his seatbelt. Her tires squealed as she hit pavement, and the prisoner fell against the door.

She grabbed his hand. “It’s OK. I’m taking you somewhere safe. Try to rest.” And stop bleeding.

His eyes closed, and his body slumped. Anna felt his pulse. Not as weak as she had expected, but he still needed a doctor. If they didn’t get away from their pursuers, she was afraid they’d need an undertaker and not medical help. Bree’s house was closer. She could call Tomas the medic and have him and the other warriors meet her there. She had to warn the clan that Tristol and Voltar were here. If they didn’t already know. Were the demons working together or against each other? The vampires at Tristol’s fortress hadn’t seemed like intruders. Everything was insane. Was this how the apocalypse would go down? The world destroyed by a battle between vampires and demons. Or would the battle be humans against vampires and demons?

She glanced at the prisoner again, strong legs covered to the knee by his kilt, his shirt soaked in blood. Why were two ancient demons so desperate to get him?

She found a wad of napkins from a fast-food drive-through and pushed them against his wound. She had to keep him alive. It was up to her. Because if he was who she thought he was, then no one was looking for him.

* * *

Of all the Seekers, he had to be stuck with this one. Arrogant prick.

“Keep up,” the baldheaded man said.

Most Seekers were bald for some reason Ronan had never figured out. Maybe their heads couldn’t find lost things and grow hair at the same time. But not all of them were so bad-tempered. Probably overcompensating for his lack of height. He was a full head shorter than Ronan.

“I’m on your bloody heels,” Ronan said, tempted to move past him and really piss him off. Seekers hated it when someone went ahead of them. They’d found Anna’s car parked on a side road in the middle of nowhere. It was already dark, not the best time to search, but it was the only time this Seeker had open, else they’d have to wait another day for another Seeker to arrive. “Are you certain she’s here?” Perhaps she left her car here and rode with someone else.

“She’s here. Close by. Can you take it from here?” the Seeker asked. He seemed anxious to get back.

Was he kidding? This was his job. To find people. Find things. “Sure.” Asshole. He’d find Anna himself, now that he had a starting point.

After the Seeker drove off, Ronan picked up Anna’s tracks in the dirt. At least a woman’s. They must be Anna’s if the Seeker was right. The tracks were no more than a couple of days old. What was she doing in the middle of the woods? A minute later he saw the fence. He would have assumed someone wanted their privacy, but the gates were open. He sniffed the air. That wasn’t good. Demons. He pulled his collapsed sword from its sheath at his belt and pushed the button to extend it. The soft metallic ring sounded loud against the quiet of night. He walked through the gate, but there was nothing here but trees. From the looks of the gate, he’d expected an estate.

He studied the ground, trying to pick up Anna’s tracks again, and plowed headfirst into something hard. Still holding his sword, he staggered back. The right side of his body vanished. “What the…” He stepped forward and saw a large stone wolf. Several of them, all lined up like guards. Behind them stood a tall fortress. Smack in the middle of nowhere. Cloaked, just like the Albany castle. Ripples of alarm ran across his back. Two cloaked structures just miles apart? What were the chances of that?

Crouching beside the stone wolf, he studied the place to determine the best way to get inside. Anna must be here. He wasn’t about to knock on the door and see if she was a guest. The fortress was tall. Lots of windows to gain entry if he couldn’t find another way in. Good thing it was dark.

He heard a sound behind him, like ice cracking on his mountain lake in the spring thaw. Warm air touched his neck, and he turned. The stone wolf stared at him. But its eyes looked red. He must be imagining it. Ronan blinked, and the wolf blinked back. Its teeth were bared, and he saw its haunches turning from stone to fur. “Holy—” He jumped aside as the wolf sprang. Its shoulder bumped him, and he fell. Rolling to his feet, he lifted his sword and faced the snarling beast. It was huge, eyes level with his. No way he could outrun it.

Ronan waited until it attacked. When it was midair, he drove his sword into the beast’s heart. It was moving too fast for him to get out of the way. The wolf collapsed on him, four hundred pounds, not muscle and bone and fur, but crumbling stone.

The cracking sound started again. The eyes of the next wolf turned from stone to dull red. His whole body hurt, and it took all his strength to shove the stones aside. He leapt to his feet a second before a giant paw smashed down where his head had been. Time to go.

He sprinted to the left of the castle toward a tree with several low branches. He could feel the wolf right behind him. He grabbed one of the branches and swung himself up, scrambling to a higher branch. The wolf leapt, and Ronan climbed higher until its teeth were well below his feet. Several others joined the hunt, snapping and snarling as they circled the tree. If only he had his bow. He judged the distance to the nearest balcony. Could he jump that far? Before he could test his agility, the wolves put their noses to the air and ran off. They’d scented someone else to torment. He crouched on the tree limb, pitying whatever they’d targeted. He dropped down, landing on his feet, and hurried toward the fortress. He had to find Anna. He didn’t know what she was doing here, but it wasn’t likely that she was here by choice. Not with that hairy welcoming party.