Wrath

We needed to find our son and get back to work.

We drove into York, and as we rode around the town, I thought about how the writer in me would have loved to spend time here. A palpable sense of deep history rose from the cobblestones and poured out of the ancient buildings, and a part of my mind couldn’t help but think about all of the people who had passed through these very streets over the centuries. I envisioned burly men with long beards and dressed in fur coats and boots making trades at the local merchants, and others drinking ale from steins in a local lodging house. So many stories to be told dating back millennia. But indulging in those stories—even thinking about them—was something I couldn’t do now . . . or probably ever again. Real life needed my focus. There would be no more escapes into a fictional world, for me or for my readers. Real life had become exactly that: very real.

As we passed a huge, gorgeous, and very old cathedral—from what I could tell through the dark, drizzly night—something golden darted out in front of us. Bree.

“This way,” she said as she pointed down a road headed north, and she disappeared. Tristan turned, and we all followed. Bree reappeared and rounded another corner, but she was gone before we reached her. We made the turn, and she appeared down the road again. Tristan, with the rest of us behind him, continued following her until we turned into a driveway in front of a cobblestone cottage. I pulled up next to Tristan and looked at him. He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, before cutting his engine and turning to Bree.

Before she could explain, two women flew out of the house, bubbling with excitement. Bree chatted with them in a language I didn’t know, but I felt pretty sure it wasn’t Earthly. The sounds were too musical, too sexy, too unnatural to have been created by sensible humans. Finally, Bree turned to Tristan and me with a small smile on her face, although her golden eyes were cautious.

“I can’t stay to help,” she said, “but Stacey and Debbie have agreed to do so. It’s the best I can do for now.”

She gave us an apologetic smile, and then made introductions before disappearing again. I frowned as I glanced around the premises, but she didn’t return.

Stacey and Debbie, the two faeries remaining in front of us, had similar features that made them difficult to tell apart: petite bodies, big blue eyes, and hair whiter than Vanessa’s, although not entirely white. I wondered if they were twins, like Jessica and Lisa, and if twins were common among faeries, but at this moment, I didn’t care enough to ask. Apparently Bree had only expected to find Stacey, but Debbie had been visiting, so we got a two-for-one deal. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. I tried to believe it was good. After all, we’d been at a dead end before Bree popped into our realm, so anything was better than the nothing we’d had before.

“There’s defo summat goin’ on,” the one introduced as Stacey said. Her hair blended from white at the crown of her head to cotton-candy pink at the bottom, which barely grazed her chin.

“Stacey’s always naughty, but I got ’er to be’ave for a bit,” said Debbie, whose hair had shades of purple in it. Their hair provided the only way to tell the two apart. That and when they spoke—Debbie’s British accent sounded different than Stacey’s. So much for the twin theory.

“Oh, I’m not naughty!” Stacey protested with a flirtatious giggle. “Not most of the time, anyway.” She batted her eyelashes at Tristan. “And I would do anythin’ for you.”

“You mean because he’s our fambo,” Debbie reminded her with an elbow jab into the other faerie’s side, although she gave Tristan a mischievous grin, too.

He grabbed my hand and squeezed, but I didn’t worry. He was impervious to their effect, and not only because our love diluted their powers. He was one of them. Half, anyway. Enough to be their kin, as Debbie had said. At least, I assumed that was what she meant.

“So you do know something?” I asked, hoping to focus them on our problem.

“We were in the Otherworld with Bree,” Stacey said, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout with my let’s-get- serious attitude. “She was watching you in America, but we saw what happened here. Your lad went north.”

“That loony sorceress ’as ’im and another,” Debbie added.

“And Owen?” Vanessa asked.

The faeries exchanged a glance, their eyes sparkling as though they knew a secret. I sighed with annoyance because I couldn’t hear faeries’ thoughts.

“That sexy warlock’s with them,” Debbie finally said.

“Where, exactly?” Tristan asked.

Stacey giggled. “Go to the coast then north. You can’t miss it.”

“We can’t wait to see wot ’appens,” Debbie said, her voice laced with excitement.

And with that, the girls disappeared.

“Damn faeries,” Tristan muttered. Vanessa and Jax both snorted. Tristan let out a growl. “I’ll never be one of them.”

“Let’s go,” I said, and we headed back for the bikes, our only transportation. There may have been no Daemoni around, but we still wouldn’t take the chance of flashing. I swung my leg over the seat of my motorcycle, anxious to be on our way. “If they’re messing with us, the sooner we find out and the sooner we can get back on the right trail.”

Since the faeries hadn’t been completely clear in what we were looking for, we did what Stacey said and went east to the coast and then north. Tristan led the way, ensuring we stayed on the left side of the streets—I kept drifting to the right—while his GPS guided us on roads near the coast. Salty air tinged my nose and coated my lips. The light rain had let up, but a storm brewed over the sea, not far from the coast and headed our way. Lightning flashed ahead and to our right, followed by low rumbles of thunder.

An ominous feeling settled over me, causing a tingle down my spine. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rose. Then I sensed it. A Daemoni mind signature. Only one, but the first I’d found since arriving in England. I sped to the front of the pack and led the way. The electric feeling became stronger and when I saw the looming structure, I had no doubt. Stacey was right—we couldn’t miss it. We followed the road until it ended, then parked the bikes, climbed off, and stared.

The eerie structure stood another few hundred yards ahead, towering over a cliff that dropped to the sea below. The silhouette against the black, stormy sky was disorienting. In the dark, it appeared to be a large, ancient castle with a clock tower and turrets reaching several stories into the sky and looming over an expanse of lawn. But when lightning flashed and lit up the scene, the structure looked more like a skeleton of its former glory, ancient ruins of something that had once been majestic. Black and then bright light and then black again showed through the arched windows that were at least two stories high, none of them reflecting light because they held no glass.

The scene had me mesmerized. With one hand on the hilt of my dagger, I slowly started toward the castle that must have belonged to Kali. Tristan strode up next to me, and the others followed closely behind, nobody saying a word. The air felt thick and heavy, electricity humming through it, making the currents within me zing. Lightning flashed, lighting up a cemetery not too far ahead, with ancient looking tombstones that stood at crooked angles, the earth below them sagging from centuries of holding their weight. Thunder clapped almost directly overhead, making my heart stutter. Someone behind me gasped, and Blossom let out a small whimper.

“I’m not likin’ this place, mates,” Jax said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Somethin’s not right about it.”

But that was the thing. Where we were now, this far away—no, it didn’t feel right. Evil hovered nearby, the feeling heavy in the air. The castle, however, as creepy as it looked, did feel right. I thought it did, anyway. The structure seemed to be pulling me to it, which didn’t scare me at all. In fact, I knew I’d find relief if I could only get to it. As though it offered security. A place of refuge.

Was Dorian there? Had he found safety within its walls?

A low hum filled my ears and at first I expected more lightning to flash. I hurried my steps, wanting nothing more than to get to the castle. To the promises it told. But the hum didn’t disappear with the next flash of lightning and only grew louder. And then I realized . . . I held out my hand in front of me. The dark of night hid the wrinkle in the air, but I felt it. A shield. Of course.

And I shook myself out of the near trance I’d been in. The structure before us was the furthest thing from a place of refuge. That was Kali’s castle!

“Why would they shield a church?” Sheree asked.