That stranger clearly had everything under control. He’d survive.
She could stay here and watch or get the hell out while he was busy. First, she had to reach Fenella and warn her of two threats. Cavan plus tonight’s intruder.
Both men wanted stupid grimoire volumes.
Neither one of them were human.
Casidhe had to grab what she needed and escape. Hurry! She had seconds to make a decision and act. In her mind, she dashed around the room, but in truth she moved like a wobbly toy top.
Of all the things she’d like to take with her, she really only needed one item.
Her mobile phone.
She dodged headless bodies and searched the destruction at a manic pace. Her phone wasn’t on the side table near the door where she normally dropped it along with a small ring of keys.
That table had been shattered.
She jumped around, looking everywhere, but no phone. Damn!
A mournful howl outside yanked her head up. She stared out the window as the last demon fell and burst into orange ash.
Nothing left for the intruder to fight.
Her time had run out!
Another glowing demon emerged from the night and raced toward the cottage. Her intruder yanked his sword up again.
Casidhe cursed silently and spun to leave.
Leaping carefully over the bodies, she raced to her bedroom and laid her sword on the bed. Gripping the oak footboard, she pushed the bed toward the door. Old, but smooth, oak flooring slid apart to reveal a hidden trapdoor someone would have to know was there to find.
Grabbing her sword, she climbed down in the hole, set the blade aside, and reached for a thick rope running through pulleys. Fear gifted her with a boost of strength. She dragged the bed frame and flooring back in place. The boards made a click as they snapped together, leaving her in the dark.
She sat on the step listening to the muffled sounds of the battle. Farther away, but the darkness ramped up her fear. Felt like the battle was right above her.
Keep moving or there’d be hell to pay if a demon caught her in this pitch-black tunnel. She knew this passage well, but had no light. That meant moving slowly or catching her toe and falling on uneven ground.
She could do this. Gripping her sword, she swung the blade up to point ahead of her.
The sword began glowing.
Okay, then.
Her heart thumped wildly. Every breath hurt. She had to stop sucking in air so hard and calm down or she’d hyperventilate.
Easier said than done with what she’d just gone through. She rushed ahead, bent over so she could clear the low ceiling. Her ears roared with blood rushing hard through her body. Halfway, she stopped short, expecting to hear the trapdoor open and something dangerous come chasing after her.
The stranger. Demons. Glowing yellow beings.
Any and all made her crab walk faster.
What had caused those hideous yellow beings to attack? One looked like a troll, but she doubted trolls normally lit up as bright as caution lights.
With every step, she chastised her inability to think clearer under stress. She should have grabbed her backpack, clothes, food ... so many things.
There had been no time.
Her intruder must have finished off the last demon by now.
In fact, he was probably searching everywhere for her.
Her heart thudded at pissing him off. There would be a price to pay for that, but he had to catch her first.
Cool air did little to stop sweat from streaming down her face. She clamped the sword hilt tighter in her damp hands, glad for the blade’s glow or a slug would outrun her. This weapon had been made for Herrick’s sister, Shannon, another dragon shifter who had died in the Dragani War.
Would she be pleased or angry an adopted nobody now held her sword?
During Casidhe’s time with Herrick and even in college, she’d been trained to swing an average sword one-handed.
Not this one. Lann an Cheartais required all her strength to wield the blade with any accuracy.
She’d like to ask Herrick if Shannon had used two hands.
She’d like to ask Herrick a thousand questions right now.
As she reached the end of the tunnel she’d traversed many times over the years, she slowed and turned to her left. Three steps in, she swung the sword down and changed her grip so she could carry it with one hand as she climbed.
At the top step, she unlatched the metal covering and waited, listening.
The tunnel had been created centuries ago and ran a hundred meters away from the cottage. Rocks stacked along the walls had been there so long they were settled and tight. Low ceilings allowed women and children to escape as husbands fought off an attack. If a large male enemy followed, he’d be crawling.
That would allow even more time for the vulnerable to flee.
Much as she appreciated the forethought of an escape route, she hated to feel vulnerable.
A demon would crawl that length fast as a rat after cheese.
She pushed the cover up slowly and peeked through the opening. No boots, feet, or unnatural sounds. Lifting the lid out of the way, she climbed out beneath the cover of darkness and stretched her sore back.
Pain zinged in muscles strained from remaining in one position for so long. She clamped her lips tight to trap the groan climbing her throat.
No time to complain. The physical challenge would only get more difficult from here.
Quieting her breathing, she searched the dark forest for any sound of threat.
Nothing but a soothing cricket symphony.
Black shadows surrounded her in every direction, even with the sliver of a moon trying to spear light through the trees. The sweet scent of heather blooming rode on a pleasant summer breeze.
She sucked in a deeper breath and exhaled to wash away the stench from those dead beings.
Hair flicked her face. Propping the sword next to her leg to free her hands, she pulled her hair back into a snug ponytail. Better.
She felt more in control.
Time for
