“The army with missiles and tanks,” Sean said.
“Yes, or that. The Fae retreat to the Summer Lands until the dust settles and there you go. No more vampire or shifter problem.”
“Holy hell.” Sean whistled. “Pardon me, Lady F, but holy hell. That’s devious. That’s bloody brilliant.”
“Fae aren’t known for their stupidity,” Christophe said dryly. “Avarice, lust, and greed, yes. Stupidity, no.”
“But we’ll all be caught in the cross fire,” Fiona said. “Humans, and all of the shifters who don’t want war. Even the vampires, and we know there are some who just want to live out their existences in peace. It’s not fair to any of them.”
“This war is on the ground, too. No time to put the children on trains,” Christophe said, his gaze far away.
She shivered. “Were you here then? World War Two?”
He turned to look at her almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. “For part of it. We were in France a lot, helping with the Resistance. Germany used shape-shifters against farmers. It was a slaughter.” His face hardened. “Never again. I will never let that happen again. We have to find that sword and stop this.”
Sean switched the radio back on, and the announcer’s voice rang out in the oppressive silence in the car.
“The prime minister has announced that she and other heads of state will be meeting within the next few hours by teleconference to discuss the increasingly dangerous threat from the supernatural community, with the possibility of military action on the table. The prime minister’s political opponents are claiming—”
Sean shut it back off. “This is going to be really bad, isn’t it?”
“Not if we can help it, Sean,” Christophe said, clasping his shoulder for a moment.
Fiona appreciated that he’d used the word “we,” but she held his hand tightly all the way home.
St. Mary’s tube station
Gideon stared down at the stupid vampire who had caused him so much trouble. It was really always the same with vampires. All one needed to do was wait for daylight. This one, although old enough to be awake most of the day, certainly in the dark this far below ground, was dead to the world. Wielding the power of the Siren must have drained the vampire’s energy. Even now, Telios clutched the sword in his skeletal hands.
Gideon paused to smile at his own joke. Dead to the world. And soon truly dead to the world. It was the matter of seconds to drive the wooden stake through Telios’s heart, wrench Vanquish out of the vampire’s clutching hands, and watch as the pathetic creature once known as Jack the Ripper dissolved into acidic slime. The curse didn’t activate, of course. One could not steal an item from a dead vampire.
“Thank you,” Gideon said, mocking the corpse. “Now I have much to do. I think I’ll take advantage of your little ploy and build from there. The next headlines will be ‘Fae prince saves the day.’ ”
Caressing the sword and its lovely, lovely gemstone, Gideon took a last look around the miserable place. “A fitting tomb, don’t you think? And now on to the next phase of my plan. Where do you think Lady Fiona might be?”
He stepped back out of the path of the spreading slime. “Oh, my apologies. You don’t have a brain left to think with.” He chuckled at his own wit and then opened a doorway to his home. “I wonder if she has received my message yet?”
Chapter 35
Campbell Manor
Hopkins met them at the door before they made it out of the garage. “A note just came for you, Lady Fiona.” His body practically hummed with suppressed fury. “I think we may have a problem.”
He turned to Sean. “If you would please open the vault and bring out the special items I showed you once?”
“Are you sure?” Sean’s face turned pale.
“Yes.”
Sean wasted no more time with questions, but just took off back toward the garage.
Christophe and Fiona followed Hopkins inside and to her office. “What kind of problem? We don’t need another problem. Did you read the note?” Fiona asked.
“I would not read your mail.”
“I think we’re a little past that. Have you listened to the news?”
Hopkins nodded grimly. “I was going to wait five more minutes for you and then read it. I think Declan’s in trouble.”
He handed over a thick envelope, cream parchment with her name elegantly written on it in slanted black letters and bold black ink. She ripped it open and held the note out so they could all see it.
Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Her lungs absolutely refused to draw in air. She collapsed to the floor before Hopkins or Christophe could catch her.
“He has Declan. Feransel has Declan.”
“We’ll get him back,” Christophe said, scooping her up off the floor and into his arms. “I swear to you by my oath as a Warrior of Poseidon that we
“What does it mean?” She pushed away from Christophe and smoothed out the crumpled letter. “I get that ‘man from the water’ is you and ‘Lord Summerlands’ is a not very subtle way to say lord from the Summer Lands especially since that’s not his title, but what does that mean about the wine?”
“It means that Declan accepted drink, maybe food, too, so they more than likely have enchanted him.”
She thought about it. Thought about all the reasons why she should remain sane, and calm, and rational.
And then she threw back her head and screamed.
Christophe understood what she was feeling. He even understood her need to howl out her rage. But it wasn’t helping their current problem, and he needed for her to
She stopped screaming thirty seconds later.
“Right,” she said briskly, as if she hadn’t just had a minimeltdown. “Let’s figure out what to do next.”
Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out like it was a lifeline, then held it up in a shaking hand. “It’s him. It’s Declan.”
She flipped it open and adjusted something so they could all hear.
“Declan, honey, are you okay?”
“How touching.” Fairsby’s voice—no, Feransel’s voice—rang out.
A wave of fury hotter than molten steel forged in the fires of the nine hells swept through Christophe, searing and burning everything in its path, until all that was left was rage and determination. The Fae was going to die for hurting Fiona. He was already a dead man. He just didn’t know it yet.
“You put my brother on the phone, Fairsby, at once,” Fiona demanded.
