Wrath

“That’s a church?” Blossom asked.

“An ancient abbey, actually. Whitby Abbey,” Tristan clarified.

“So it’s not Kali’s castle?” I asked.

Tristan shook his head. “This was Bram Stoker’s inspiration for Dracula’s castle, but it’s not a castle at all.”

“I can feel its sacred ground from here,” Sheree said. No wonder it had felt so right to me.

“So why would they shield it?” Charlotte sounded as befuddled as Sheree had.

“To keep us out of it,” Tristan said easily. “They can’t enter the grounds, and they’re not about to let us do so.”

“So they’re wantin’ to fight?” Jax asked.

“Possibly. They certainly don’t want us to be able to hide, but I don’t sense anyone around,” Tristan said, and he looked at me. “Do you?”

I reached my mind out, searching for Daemoni mind signatures. A town lay beyond the hill where the abbey stood, and I only sensed more Normans there. And I couldn’t find Dorian’s mind signature anywhere, so he was either cloaked or not nearby at all. Had the faeries tricked us? Wreaking havoc in our lives as a source of entertainment? Or did their tendencies favor the Daemoni, and they had, indeed, distracted us by sending us on a wild goose chase? Or into some kind of trap? Bree had trusted them to tell us the truth, but . . . they were faeries after all. They probably couldn’t even trust each other.

Then I caught it. The mind signature I’d sensed when we first approached the area. I turned to the left, and squinting through the drizzle that had once again begun to fall, I made out a tall building several hundred yards away. Inside was a single Daemoni mind, and now that I’d moved closer, I recognized the signature as the same one that had been in the car with Kali earlier, in a whole different part of the world.

Without a word of explanation, I took Tristan’s hand and led him for the flash, not wanting to take the time to run. Charlotte, Blossom, and Vanessa showed up a second later. Sheree and Jax ran, morphing on their way, preparing to enter battle. This Daemoni may be alone for now, but we didn’t know who lurked behind a cloak nearby. Hopefully Kali did. Hopefully a whole Daemoni army didn’t.

Tristan directed the others to stay down here at ground level and keep watch, and then he and I entered the small, circular building and silently climbed the several flights of stairs winding along the wall of what seemed to be a lookout tower. My heart pounded harder with each step we took, but not from exertion. From the anticipation of the unknown we’d be facing. From the anxiety of possibly finding Dorian and hoping he was still okay. When we finally reached the top, the stairwell opened into a single, round room walled by windows. A lone figure stood in front of the wall that looked toward the abbey.

He was nearly as tall and as broad as Tristan, with dark brown hair flowing in waves past his shoulders. When he turned his muscular body toward us, my breath caught. He had a dangerous beauty, more rugged than Tristan’s and not quite as otherworldly, with a strong jaw, a straight nose, and olive skin stretched over high cheekbones. His brows, one with a scar through it, arched severely over piercing eyes that appeared dark brown until lightning lit up the room, and then they looked green. And they were leveled at me as something familiar yet terrifying swirled in their depths.

“Seth,” the man growled, though his eyes never left my face.

My gut clenched, and I grasped Tristan’s hand.

“Noah,” he replied, his voice polite, though steely. My jaw dropped. Noah? As in Mom’s twin? “Meet Alexis.”

“My niece,” Noah said, his voice deep yet alluring. So that was a yes. And he hadn’t asked it as a question —he also recognized me. “My sister must be so proud. And your son . . . he is . . . entertaining.”

A growl rumbled in Tristan’s chest, but I squeezed his hand. I wanted to shriek at this hulk of a man for even mentioning my son, but Noah gave me . . . an odd vibe. An unexpected one, for sure. The energy he put off reminded me of Tristan right after I’d gone through the Ang’dora, when good and evil battled inside him. Was there hope for Noah?

“You can’t save me,” he snarled, as if reading my mind, although I knew my mind remained closed to his.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “What about Dorian? Can we save him? Do you know where he is? Will you tell us?”

I didn’t know why I asked like that, rather than demanding that he hand our son over or at least tell us his location. Something about this guy—my uncle—who was supposed to be Daemoni through-and-through and was obviously pretty badass, gave me the feeling that there might be hope. Maybe not for him, but for us. For Dorian. As though he’d long ago accepted his fate, but knew it didn’t have to be Dorian’s fate, too, and he would ensure it wasn’t.

Or maybe I was being stupid.

Which was confirmed when another figure popped into the room.

“Don’t, Noah!” the newcomer ordered. “Don’t even think about the boy. She can read minds, remember.”

My stomach jumped into my throat at the sound of the familiar voice. Renewed fury shuddered down my body from the back of my neck to my feet, like a robe sliding over me. I struggled to breathe as I turned toward the newcomer. And seeing the familiar face caused rage to slam into me like a wrecking ball. The breath flew out of my lungs. Every muscle in my body coiled. And I flew at him.

“You. Fucking. TRAITOR!”

Chapter 22

My fist connected with Owen’s jaw only once before Tristan yanked me back into his arms.

“I can’t believe you did this to us,” I screamed at my former protector as I struggled against Tristan’s unrelenting hold on me. “You are a traitor of the worst kind! I trusted you, Owen. I trusted you with my life. With my son’s life! And this is what you do? Betray us like no other? Take away what’s most important to us?”

His sapphire blue eyes flickered once before hardening as he glared at me. “At least you still have each other,” he sneered. “I thought Tristan was more important to you than anything.”

Tristan growled now, louder than before. “Jealousy, Scarecrow? You did this out of jealousy?”

Owen didn’t answer, but his eyes flickered again. I didn’t know if he’d softened for a brief moment at the nickname, or if the accusation flared his temper.

“It doesn’t matter,” he finally barked, and then he turned toward Noah. “You didn’t say anything? Think it?”

Noah shook his head, but I entered his mind, searching for thoughts about Dorian, because he obviously knew something. Owen must have coached him, though, because he kept his mind nearly blank, focused only on an image of the abbey. Was Dorian in there? But how, if their evil selves couldn’t step onto the grounds? Or could the abbey be a mirage? Another image created by Kali that wasn’t really there? The sorceress-bitch was good at making it hard to tell reality from the false alternatives she created. She’d completely messed with Tristan and me when we were in South Beach last year. She’d done it again when Vanessa and I were in Hades. Tristan hadn’t been surprised to find the abbey and knew exactly what it was, though. However . . . the sorceress loved to play mind tricks on us.

“Where is he, Owen?” I demanded, spitting out the warlock’s name. “Where’s Dorian? You can’t do this to us!”

“I can. And I did,” he replied calmly.

I turned toward Noah, hoping to find that bit of something I’d seen in him earlier. “Please, Noah. Help me. Help us. You know Dorian doesn’t belong with the Daemoni.”

A sound rumbled in Noah’s throat.

“No,” Owen yelled, pointing a finger at Noah’s chest. “Don’t you do it. You