“But I heard the vampire say they didn’t care about me,” Cody said.
Declan’s brows drew together. “So the demons are after you and Shay, but the vampires are just after Shay?”
“How’d they even find out about our book?” Shane asked.
Faelan drummed his fingers against his kilt. “It was missing for a long time before turning up in Bree’s attic. It’s possible other members of her family knew about it. Any one of them could’ve told someone else.”
“Let’s not forget Angus mentioned a traitor,” Duncan said. “Maybe someone found out about it long ago.”
“Don’t even look at me,” Sorcha said, glaring at him.
Cody didn’t know what was up with them, but they’d been fussing at each other since they arrived.
“Nobody’s lit the fire under you yet, Joan of Arc,” Duncan said. “But every time you get defensive, it makes you look suspicious. I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you.”
Sorcha stood, hands planted on her hips. “You think you’re man enough to make me shut up? It’s not your reputation on the line, Coz.”
Duncan slowly rose and walked across the room. He grabbed Sorcha around the waist, bent his head, and kissed her until her body looked as boneless as a filet. Duncan raised his head. “That good enough?” He glared at her and then strode toward the door. “Tell the Council I had to leave,” he said, without looking back.
Sorcha dropped onto a chair, mouth slack, speechless.
“Well, then,” Brodie said.
No one had a chance to react. The quiet brush of robes signaled the Council’s return. Everyone quieted as the thirteen elders somberly filed into the room.
The chief elder took his place at the front of the room, his age-clouded eyes heavy. Cody felt the air thick with tension. He glanced at the faces of his brothers, his friends. Every expression was guarded but tight. If the Council decided to punish him, he would have to intervene, persuade the warriors to accept the verdict, or the entire Connor clan could crumble.
“I believe the Council was mistaken in believing the threat against Shay was removed, especially given the new information about Bree. The Watchers are disturbed.”
Cody cleared his throat. “My apologies, Elder, but I believe we all made a mistake. She’s in danger, whether it’s from Malek or vampires.”
The elder nodded, as if to himself, and glanced at the twelve robed men and women who sat behind him. They all gave a silent nod. “We’ve all shared the blame in this matter. We see no reason for further action. For the moment. It’s more important to identify and wipe out this threat. Do you think the danger is only to Shay, or Bree as well, since she is also Edward’s child?” The clan had been stunned to learn that the two women were sisters. They had protected Shay for most of her life, thinking her attack might be connected to Edward, when all along he had another child out there in the world. Two more. Bree said there had been a twin who died. It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise. As the clan well knew, mates weren’t the only destined things.
“We think the threat is against Shay, but we’re keeping an eye on Bree as well,” Faelan said. There was an increased air of respect from the elders when Faelan spoke.
“Shay has a right to know everything, to be trained so she can protect herself,” Cody said. “With your permission, we’d like to begin immediately.” He didn’t tell them that Shay already wore her father’s talisman. He should have taken it back, but he didn’t have the heart to take away the only connection she had to the father they hid from her.
“I understand you started her training years ago.”
“We did, but it wasn’t completed.”
“Go and train her.”
Cody felt the tension in the room ease like a collective sigh.
“Bree as well,” the elder said. His white brows bunched into a frown. “She’s exhibited some… unusual qualities.”
“That’s an understatement,” Ronan muttered.
The elder glanced at the other Council members behind him. “We need to determine how Bree has come by these unique abilities. We may need to take her for testing later.”
Faelan’s knuckled whitened against his thigh.
“But in the meantime, train the sisters as you see fit,” the elder said. “It is the Watchers’ and the Council’s belief that we have a nightmare on our hands.”
Chapter 14
Malek watched as the man vanished into thin air. “It’s cloaked, just like Druan’s castle,” Malek said to the hulking figure behind him. “But I doubt Druan cloaked it. That smacks of Tristol’s handiwork.”
Voltar stepped forward, dwarfing Malek, even in their human forms. He suspected Voltar stood too close on purpose, using his size as a threat. The members of the League hated each other, but they hid it well.
“You’re certain that was Tristol’s minion?” Voltar asked.
“I’m sure,” Malek said.
“What’s behind the cloak?”
“Take a look. You won’t believe it.”
Voltar moved to the spot where the man had disappeared. Half of Voltar’s body vanished. When he turned, his eyes narrowed to slits. “How long has that been here?”
“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.