Bree looked surprised. “Grandma knew. She was trying to tell me something before she died. I bet she was going to tell me about Faelan.”
“Bree.” Faelan stood at the back door.
“You should get inside before he starts yelling,” Ronan said to Bree, brushing his hand over her stomach.
Was this normal behavior for this time? He wouldn’t want Ronan touching Anna like that. Not that he had any rights where she was concerned.
“He’s so protective sometimes I could strangle him,” Bree said.
“Aye. He is that,” Tavis said, smiling. It was good to know some things hadn’t changed.
Bree wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, surprising him. He was just as surprised at how hard he returned the hug. Maybe she reminded him of Anna.
“Don’t worry. We’re going to find her.”
Tavis frowned. Was she reading his mind again?
“I’m going to help them later,” Ronan said. He touched Bree’s stomach again, clapped Tavis on the shoulder, and took off.
“You coming in?” Bree asked.
“Soon.” It was nice having people concerned about him. It was almost a bloody miracle. But he needed more time alone. When she had left, he looked at the grave again for several minutes, trying to picture his father’s face as it had been in life, not the last time he’d seen it in death. “I didn’t get to tell you that Liam’s death wasn’t your fault,” Tavis said, looking at the ground where his father lay. “The demon came to kill Liam. He must have found out that Liam would be assigned to him.”
Tavis heard someone else approach from outside the graveyard. Bloody hell!
“Would you like to know the demon’s name?”
Tavis turned and saw Lance, the skinny guard, standing outside the graveyard fence. In spite of his weakness, Tavis leapt the fence and had his hands around Lance’s throat before he could run. He could have used his talisman, but he wanted to feel the life drain from the worm’s skinny body.
“Stop, please,” Lance squeaked. “I want to help you.”
Tavis loosened his grip. “Help me? You tortured me.”
“It was the other guard,” Lance said. “Tristol told us to test you, but it wasn’t me who tortured you.”
“You were there, helping.”
“I had no choice. Voltar sent me to spy on Tristol. If I had refused, he would have killed me.”
Tavis kept his hands around Lance’s throat, but he stopped choking him. There was some truth to what Lance was saying. It was the fat guard who had done all the torturing. “You’re working with Voltar?”
“Yes.”
“Why was Voltar spying on Tristol?”
“He knew Tristol had you. He’s been waiting for you for over a century. He knew you were in the time vault, but he didn’t know where it was hidden.”
Tavis dropped his hands but kept a close eye on Lance. “Why was he waiting for me?”
“He said you’re supposed to destroy him. He read it in a book. Some old prophesy or something.”
The Book of Battles. So Voltar knew Tavis was assigned to destroy him. Or had been at one time. There went the element of surprise. Did he also know Tavis had the book? If the demons got their hands on it, found out which warriors were assigned, they could destroy the clan.
“Voltar is working against Tristol?”
“Yes. They hate each other,” Lance said.
“I thought the League worked together.”
“When it suits them. But Voltar and Tristol want each other dead, and I’m trapped in the middle.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I’ve been with Voltar for over two hundred years, but I’ve outlived my usefulness. If Voltar is right and you’re the one who was prophesied to destroy him, then it would be in my best interest to help you achieve that.”
“Why don’t you kill him yourself?”
“Do you know how powerful and unstable he is? He’s been the force behind some of the worst tragedies humankind has seen. Just name the major world battles, and Voltar was behind it. This century alone he’s killed millions.”
“This century?” While Tavis was safe in a time vault. Still, he felt a stir of memories, a battle, and a man filled with hatred, but they weren’t clear.
“I forgot. You slept through it all.”
“So you want me to kill Voltar for you?” Arrogant little worm. Who did he think he was?
“If you kill him, I’ll disappear, never see you again. Never bother you again.”
“What’s to stop me from killing you and Voltar?”
“I know something else you don’t…besides who killed Liam. I know where Anna is.”
Anna had been running for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. She knew Voltar was behind her. But he was big, and his body size slowed him down. Her legs were burning, but she couldn’t stop. She had to make sure Tavis was safe.
She leaned against a tree and caught her breath. At this rate, she’d never survive. It was embarrassing, but she was injured. She’d considered circling around to her car, but her Honda rental would never outrun Voltar’s badass motorcycle. She started running again, and after a few yards, she burst out of the trees.
An old camper sat forlornly in an overgrown camping space. The campground behind Bree’s house had been here for a long time. According to Bree, campers had occasionally gotten lost and showed up at Bree’s grandmother’s house. Now they knew the lost campers were actually warriors and Seekers sent to look for the missing key to Faelan’s time vault. There weren’t many campers here now. Anna stretched out a burning thigh and peered in the windows of a camper that wasn’t so rusty. She couldn’t go on any longer without resting, so she picked the lock and went inside. If Voltar caught her, she’d blast him with her talisman and then die. At least he would be weakened. Whoever was assigned could finish Voltar off. Tavis would be safe.
He was all she’d thought about since she’d met him. His face, his bruised but magnificent body, his loneliness. It’s like he’d wiggled into her brain until there was nothing but Tavis in there. She sat down on an outdated flower-print sofa and closed her eyes. Just a minute. She didn’t know how far Voltar was behind her, or if she’d even been successful. She hadn’t heard him for a while.
She was sitting there in a ratty old camper when Michael the Archangel appeared. Usually he came in dreams. This time she was awake. If being dead on her feet was awake. Power and energy radiated off him, so strong she had to shield her eyes. He was so glorious she would have bowed before him if she could have moved. As it was, she was frozen in awe.
“Voltar must be stopped. It is time. Tavis needs you.” And just like that, Michael left, and Anna was sitting on the dingy couch with her mouth hanging open.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WAIT,” SHE YELLED, then closed her mouth. She had questions, lots of them, but no one ordered Michael around—except one person, who was not really a person but more of an entity. So she continued sitting there as the shock faded. Had Michael just assigned her to destroy Voltar? She’d killed or suspended hundreds of demons. It was her job, her life. One she’d planned on doing until the day she died. But an ancient demon?
Voltar. Where was he? What if he’d doubled back? She jumped up and went to the door, reenergized. She ran through the woods, not so quiet this time. If Voltar was still here, she would use her talisman. She was weak, but if he was assigned to her, she might have a chance. She couldn’t let him find Tavis. She had just reached the graveyard when she felt something behind her. She turned and saw something tall. Not Michael. This was dark. A black mist materialized in front of her. “What have you done?” The voice was cold, deadly, and oddly beautiful. Almost as beautiful as his face. Tristol.
Anna was too frightened to speak. Then a surge of adrenaline jerked her into action. She sprang from the balls of her feet with a quick lunge, leapt over the graveyard gate. She gave Tristol a forced look of defiance and felt the pull of something so strong she quickly looked away.
“Anna. Do you think a fence and some rotted bones can stop me?” She looked at him again. His eyes flashed, and he put a hand on the gate. Anna felt her heart sink. Tristol put an elegantly booted foot inside the graveyard, and he smiled, but there was anger seething underneath. Anna took a step backward. Tristol took a step forward.
What the hell? What was he? Demons couldn’t step on holy ground. That was one of the things warriors had relied on since time began. And she couldn’t use her talisman on an unassigned ancient demon. That would kill her. Tristol was the most powerful demon in this dimension. She had to lead him away from here, or he would find Tavis, kill him, or take him back to the fortress and torture him again. My God, she thought. First Voltar, and now Tristol.
He moved toward her so fast she could hardly see him. He stood in front of her, his face so beautiful she felt as if she were melting.
Anna looked down at the pale hand holding her talisman. A demon couldn’t touch a warrior’s talisman without being burned. “What are you?”
He smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. Still, she felt as if she were melting again. “Not what you think. What have you done with my fortress?”
“Your fortress?”
“My fortress. It’s gone.”
“I didn’t take it.” Take it? What was he saying? What was she saying? No one could take a fortress. “It’s cloaked. Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.”
He leaned closer until only a few inches separated them. “I’m not looking in the wrong place.”
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