 
## Taken (Ava Delaney #4)

By Claire Farrell

Edited by Lynn O'Dell

In the months since Ava fooled the British vampires and dealt with Becca for good, life has been easier, but not without its problems. Her deal with the twins is physically harming her, Peter's grasp on sanity is slipping, Carl is struggling, and Esther is losing her edge.

Ava's been asking questions in an attempt to fulfil her various deals, but her persistence turns out to be the biggest problem. She's not the only one asking questions, but somebody wants her to stop, and finding out who's in charge is a lot more difficult than taking care of her new houseguest.

To survive, Ava must take control of her own destiny for a change. That might involve swallowing her pride and accepting help from those she doesn't trust because new foes are on the horizon, and the number of people needing her protection keeps increasing.

Smashwords Edition

August 2012

Copyright © Claire Farrell 2012

Claire_farrell@live.ie

Cover art © Renu Sharma | www.thedarkrayne.com

Licence Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

# Chapter One

I followed Peter past a couple of blocks of run-down flats, growing more concerned with each step. Sweat trickled down my spine in anticipation of encountering the unknown. The endless, likely self-induced, premonitions of imminent disaster, not to mention the racing of Peter's pulse, forced me to mouth numbers under my breath. Counting only helped a little; the area itself thwarted any attempts I made to calm myself.

Sounds echoed strangely in the night, and the buildings loomed ominously, the windows more like hooded eyes peering straight through our intentions, recognising our secrets. Figures moving along the balconies created shadow giants on the ground, and I grew jumpier by the second.

Cackles of obnoxious laughter from three blocks away erupted as if right over my shoulder, yet whispers from a couple of yards away couldn't be heard clearly. Something surreal lingered in the air, some knowledge that dark things were among us, yet nobody cared.

A gang of kids who should have been home in bed at that time of night heckled as we passed, and I resisted the urge to flash some fang. An unseen arm flung an empty bottle from the depths of the flats; it landed a couple of feet behind me with a clatter. By the giggles and sounds of running feet, I guessed a child had been the culprit. The only people in Dublin brave enough to give Peter and me a hard time were ten-year-old boys. Sometimes I wished for their innocence.

The streetlamps ended, and we were mired in mostly darkness for the rest of the journey, except when a random gleam of moonlight brightened our path. The sounds from the flats died and left us completely alone. Somehow, that was worse. A shudder ran down my spine when shadows closed in on us. As we surrendered ourselves to the blackest black, Peter never once looked back, but I kept following him, waiting for the clouds to uncover the moon again.

This traditionally poverty-stricken part of Dublin's inner-city had always been dark, always clouded with misery, a stark reminder of my old succubus-ridden flat. That night was no different, but I felt something... _other_ in the air, and my base instincts said to run.

Peter didn't say anything as he led the way to our latest _victims_. I couldn't think of a better word for what we made them, and it was from us I wanted to run. We had become unofficial voices of the Council, pushing our way through our world to find the answers we needed. My conscience bit at me on a regular basis. We stepped lightly over deep puddles that had formed over somewhat ominous holes gouged out in the concrete until we came to what looked like a group of abandoned warehouses.

"In here," he said gruffly, his heart rate increasing. Excitement or fear.

The building he indicated rose over us like an angry monster preparing to chomp down on intruders. I didn't want to go inside. I didn't want to play the game again. But Peter wasn't going home without at least asking some questions, and I couldn't walk away either. I had too many bosses on my back, too many favours owed.

Peter pushed at the large door, found it locked, and shrugged. "We'll need to go around the back."

The buildings stood tight together, so I turned to go around the long way.

"No, this way. It's quicker." He took my hand and led me to the end of the row of buildings. A small space was between two of them, barely large enough for us to walk through sideways. Trying not to get freaked out by the close quarters, I side-stepped after Peter, cursing him inwardly.

"You hate me, don't you?" I hissed.

He stayed silent, although his lips quivered a little in the dim light. The walls were wet with some kind of slime, and a weird stench seemed to erupt as we moved further into the alley. I screwed up my face in disgust, but he kept moving steadily. If I gave up, I would never hear the end of it.

We finally made it to the end of the line, and I gazed at him, wondering what he would suggest next.

He gestured upward. "Come on. I'll help you."

I stifled a groan. Not climbing. Not again.

"It's not so bad. We just need to walk the wall around and back up to the warehouse."

"Right, but what's the smell?"

"Them, I suppose."

"And they are?"

His gaze locked onto mine. "I didn't stick around to ask for details, Ava. All I know is these people might have answers to our questions. So here we are." He bent his knee as much as he could, which wasn't particularly far at all, and held out his hands.

Steeling myself for the rest of what was turning out to be an awful night, I grabbed his hands, stood on his thigh, and hauled myself up onto the wall, praying I wouldn't fall. It wouldn't be the first time. I faltered, scrambling to hold on, but he planted his hands on my backside, pushing me up. I managed to pull one leg over the wall and ended up straddling it, leaning forward as I reached down to help Peter.

He ignored me and basically walked up the wall by using the opposite wall, his hands and feet spread wide, balancing himself perfectly.

"Show off," I hissed as he sat next me, a smug expression on his face.

"Lots of practice growing up." He cocked his head to the side. "You should have climbed more when you were younger."

"I had more sense. Obviously, that went out the window when I met you."

He lifted my legs over his and pulled me closer to him, heat generating in his hazel eyes.

I gripped the wall frantically. "I could fall!"

He rolled his eyes and freed me. I balanced myself warily, getting to my feet as slowly as possible.

Peter looked up at me with amusement. "Vampires jump off buildings, and angels are... well, angels. So what's wrong with you exactly?"

I closed my eyes and held out my arms to find my centre. "I just don't do well with heights, okay? You know it, yet you seem to find great pleasure in getting me to climb. Can we get on with this, please?"

He held my hand, his strong fingers around mine, steady and warm, and I felt relief. He wouldn't let me fall. I opened my eyes and swallowed hard as he led me slowly along the surface of the wall with no more showing off. My difficulty with heights was all in my head. I knew that, but it didn't stop me from wobbling.

I counted my steps, stopping every time I reached five, much to Peter's frustration. "I'll fall on six," I tried to explain, but he just shook his head.

The smell grew stronger, a weird, rotting, earthy smell, and I heard noises as we moved around to the back of the buildings—a discussion, although I didn't understand the words.

"Definitely not empty," I whispered.

He nodded, keeping his eyes trained on the back of the warehouse. I spotted no movement, but in the dark, it was hard to tell. A glimmer of light flickered from somewhere, and I held my breath, waiting for something to attack. Nothing happened, and Peter yanked my hand roughly, urging me to keep walking.

We made it to the warehouse without me falling or screaming like a little girl. Sometimes I acted altogether too human for Peter's liking. He jumped off the wall and landed on his feet, making only a slight scuffling noise. I tried to climb down, but as I lowered myself, his firm hands on my waist helped me before I fell and alerted anyone to our presence. Sometimes his presumption that I would mess up bothered the hell out of me.

He held on to me even after I landed, fingers digging into my waist to push me against the wall as I turned to face him, his body barring my way. His lips found mine before I could protest, and as his cinnamon scent surrounded me, I couldn't remember what I was protesting against.

That was Peter: excited from the hunt and ready to temporarily let me into his world. My fingers gripped his sandy-brown hair, and he broke away, panting, wildfire in his eyes.

"We're leaving through the front door," I warned him. I received a grin in return. That didn't help my already edgy nerves. I knew him too well.

"Sure how we're playing this one?" he asked.

I nodded. He pointed to an open doorway, but I gripped his arm to stop him while I reached out with my senses to see what might be inside. All I saw was a large, squirming mass of murky teal.

"What the hell are they?" I whispered.

He shrugged. I could only sense what seemed like one being inside, a large being that I had never come across before.

We darted across the concrete to the unguarded doorway, and the smell almost overcame me. Holding my breath, I followed him inside, taking small, light steps. I blinked rapidly in the sudden darkness and random glow. Once my eyes adjusted to the change, I saw that tiny lights lit up the room. Smoke filled the air, and I realised my mistake. It wasn't one being, but many beings who shared something—a mind, an instinct, a cause, something that entwined them together. I hoped that was the only similarity they shared with the succubi.

They all watched us warily. Peter moved to the closest figure and asked him some questions. The being shook its head, obviously irritated.

All of the creatures, for I knew their human-looking masks weren't real, slowly shifted into their true forms: almost translucent grey skin, angular features, pink doe-shaped eyes. Hairless, heartless beings. They wouldn't help us.

Peter seemed to realise the same thing because his pulse hitched up a notch, and I saw the shaking in his hands.

I should have known he would start something. Anyone else would have expected it, but I wore rose-tinted glasses whenever I looked at Peter. So I thought this time would be different. This time we could ask questions without having to fight our way out. This time we would get the right answers.

I saw the gleam in his eye a half-second before anyone else. He would go into one of his Cúchulainn type frenzies if I didn't stop him. Not that I had ever stopped him before.

"Maybe they don't know anything," I murmured, all too aware of the strange eyes on me.

As their eyes burned into one vibrant flame red, I knew we were only seeing what they wanted us to see. Anyone else would see a bunch of squatters lounging around, smoking joints. They made sure we saw enemies, ready to pounce.

"They know something," Peter said through clenched teeth. Quick as a flash, he dragged one to the wall, his fingers wrapping around the... whatever's neck. "Tell me what you know!"

And so it was up to me to have his back. While he indulged in a little torture, I had to fight the creatures gunning for his heart. One by one, they slunk closer to us. They were slate-skinned and alien-looking, with tongues that slit in two like serpents, thoroughly freaking me out.

"Not today," I said to the one closest to me. "I am so not in the mood for this."

It hissed, sliding along on the balls of its feet, and my heart sank. Not again.

Something moved under the surface of the creature's skin, from its shoulders right down to its wrist. Its hand clawed into something spectacularly repulsive and whipped out at me, almost catching my face.

"Not the face," I insisted in a mocking voice, kicking out at the thing so it would back off. Another one flew at me from the right, slamming us both into Peter's back. He shoved right back, and my attacker and I rolled on the floor until I jumped back to my feet and took out the dagger. The weapon glowed in the strangely dull lighting, a cooler blue than usual, and they all took a step back, the one on the floor crawling backward rapidly. Their wariness intrigued me. Everyone seemed to know more about my weapon of choice than I did.

"All we want are a couple of answers, okay?" I held up my dagger to make the most of the threat. "That's all. We were told to come here, and we'll leave as soon as we've gotten the information we need."

The group separated as one swayed in between them. "We have no answers for your kind," it said. I thought it was a male, but couldn't tell for certain. The creatures were pretty androgynous in appearance out of their human forms.

"Then why are we here?" Peter yelled from behind me, making me jump.

Glancing at the heavens, I took a deep breath. "Someone knows something. What if some of your own people are in the slave markets, trapped without a chance?"

"We can't mate with humans. None of our offspring could end up there."

"So you've heard of it?"

"Everyone hears whispers. None of us can help you get there. And none of us particularly care what is done there. It affects us not."

I laughed. "Just give it time, mate. Haven't you heard? There's a war coming, and everyone's going to be dragged into it. Whether we like it or not."

The voice of the group ignored my words, but the others tensed collectively when I mentioned a war.

"Leave now, and we won't try to stop you." But his tone held more pleading than demand.

I shrugged. "I think I could take a few of you down with me."

"We're a peaceful species, protected by the—"

"Yeah, and I have the say so of an angel, so we kind of outrank your bullshit. I mean, _I_ would go. No bother. I couldn't care less about this crap right now. But him?" I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at Peter. "He can't walk away. He has a problem. Even if I manage to drag his arse out of here, he'll be back when you're asleep to set the whole building on fire. Like I said, he has a problem. So give him something good, and maybe he won't act like a prick later."

The thing stared at me. I had been expecting something a little more humanoid, but the more I looked at it, the more alien it appeared. Finally, it nodded, and inside my stomach, the ball of panic deflated a little.

"One question," it said. "Because there are scarier things out there than a human and his half-breed pet."

"I'm nobody's pet." It never failed to annoy me when people said that.

"Really? You aren't doing his job for him? You aren't working for the vampire queen? You aren't working for the Council and the traitor angel? From where I'm looking, you're a pawn in a game that's far larger than you imagine. A dumb attack dog with an unworthy master."

"Fill me in, then. If you know so much." Damn it, the creature had me excited. I kept getting closer to revealing the secrets, but never quite finding myself there. It was infuriating.

"One question," it repeated, and a ripple moved under its skin.

"All right," I said hastily. "Peter, one question. Make it a good one."

"Where did they take my son?"

Maybe not the best question, but there was no talking to him sometimes. Another night wasted.

The creature looked from me to Peter and spoke one word in a calm voice. "Hell."

With a harsh yell, Peter let go of the creature he still had pinned to the wall and swung around. I ducked in time to feel the faint breeze from a dagger flying over my head. The knife hit the creature in the neck.

Always with the dramatics.

The thing didn't drop. It pulled the knife out of its neck and threw the dagger straight into the wall. Its wound knit together rapidly with only an insignificant loss of dark blue blood. "Get out of here."

Clicking noises echoed behind it as its people prepared for battle.

"Come on," I said to Peter. "They're nobodies. They know nothing worth knowing."

We backed out of there.

A scornful voice called after us, "I didn't lie, and I wasn't mistaken. If they took that child, then they took him to hell."

With a hand on Peter's arm, I pushed through the crowd to the front of the building, pulled him outside, and ran, dragging him behind me.

"Hold on," he said, shaking me off. "I need to hear it."

"You don't. You don't need to listen to some idiot creature showing off about things he doesn't understand."

"What if he's right? What if Emmett went to hell? What if he suffered?"

The pain replaced the madness in his eyes. What ifs. The things that hurt us most. I shoved him against the wall and pressed myself against him. "Shut up. Shut the hell up. You're not this stupid, so stop acting like it. What's with you?"

He wrapped his arms around me, laying his chin on my shoulder, and I was so surprised that I let him. We were so bad together, so bad for each other, but the comfort was so worth it. If only it were always that way.

"Ever feel like time is just slipping out of your hands?" he asked. "We aren't getting anywhere with this, and you have other stuff you need to do. I feel as though I'll never find out what happened to my family that night, and I'm starting to think I don't want to know."

Sometimes I thought the same thing. The night his girlfriend and her parents were killed had changed him forever. He probably wouldn't have survived the grief without his drive for revenge. He needed to find out where his son had been taken and what happened to him, but if he did, what would keep him alive?

I nuzzled his neck, taking in that cinnamon scent. He stiffened a little, and I let go. Ever since I had drunk his blood, he had issues with me getting too close to any major arteries. I put up with it because I didn't wholly trust myself either.

"Don't," he said, pulling me back and pressing his lips to mine. His kisses were always fierce, and that one was no exception. He took everything, gave everything, and left me breathless in more ways than one.

I wished it could last.

# Chapter Two

I thought about Peter as I showered the following morning. In some ways, we had gotten closer, but I couldn't call it a relationship. We were two lonely people drawing comfort from one another, except for the times he dragged me everywhere under pretence of helping me do my job. Really, he was using me to get what he wanted. And I let him. Every time. I even played along with his out-of-control-human routine.

The night before was a prime example. He had come to me with yet another lead, someone who might have news about the slave markets or even the rebels. Thinking about it later, I realized he hadn't actually confirmed which. But when we got there, he used up our one question to ask something pointless. He had made sure he was seen with me, a well-known face of the Council's _darker_ interests, and that usually meant answers came quicker.

I definitely wanted to discover what had happened to his son, but there were better ways of phrasing a question, better methods for drawing the truth out of something that wasn't quite human. And I still had my own jobs to do. They had to come first. I was the one who would have to face the consequences of failure.

When we first met, Peter had assumed I was a vampire out to get him, but he had slowly been persuaded that I wanted to do good. At least, I hoped he had been persuaded. Sometimes, I couldn't be sure.

I dried off, dressed, headed to the kitchen, and ate. Afterward, I decided I was still hungry. I made a plan to have a second breakfast with Carl, the human I had essentially made my brother. I was still under orders to keep an eye on Eddie Brogan, Keeper of Knowledge, Guardian of Sleeping Gods, blah, blah, blah, but seeing his shop assistant was a good way around that.

I left with the sun blazing against the red-bricked front wall of my home. My house was like something out of a fairytale on sunny days, and I loved living in the cul-de-sac, surrounded by both humans and supernaturals, but never having to hide my true face. I really needed to thank Peter for finding me the place; I was truly happy there.

I wasn't exactly inviting my neighbours for dinner, but we all nodded and smiled politely whenever the opportunity arose. An air of relaxation and contentment surrounded the community. We were safe from the outside world and safe from each other. The only one I had ever really spoken to was the daughter of my next door neighbour. Her mother kept her head down, barely raising her eyes to nod at me in greeting, but she was never unpleasant.

I grinned as I passed the garden and spotted Dita's hair glisten in the sunlight. "Morning, Dita. Enjoying your holidays?"

She beamed up at me, her dark blue eyes shining and her hands still in the dirt. She was quite possibly the cutest kid I had ever seen in my entire life, and although I knew there was something supernatural about her and her mother, I wasn't sure what. Not that I cared. And that was the beauty of Mrs. Yaga's housing. Nobody cared.

"I'm planting. Can I do your garden? It's kind of messy."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "You know what? You're so right. Maybe I'll hire you to fix it up for me."

She tossed her head, but her dark blond hair fell back into her eyes. "Do I get a break?"

I shrugged. "I'll have to think about that one. I mean, time is money."

She chortled and turned back to her work. "I'm very expensive."

"I bet you are. Can I get your majesty something in the shop, if your Mam says it's okay?"

"Lip gloss?"

"Nice try. I heard your mother telling you no already this morning."

She grinned up at me. "I'll have to make sure she's a little quieter next time."

"Maybe I'll bring you back a comic."

She brightened. "And I'll get started on your garden."

"Nah. Enjoy the sun. I'd rather see you working in the rain, getting nice and muddy."

She stuck out her tongue and waved as I left, and I couldn't help feeling good, even though the only neighbour I had ever had an actual conversation with happened to be a nine-year-old girl.

I was probably happier than I had ever been. The vampires had all but disappeared for a couple of months, Carl was getting on okay, and I was no longer having energy stolen from me by a bitchy succubus. All in all, life was more than okay. I had friends, nobody had tried to kill me for months, and I felt safe for the first time in my life.

Still, some things troubled me: the deal with the twins that I still hadn't managed to sort out, the deals I had made with Gabe, and pretty much everything to do with either Eddie or my grandmother. Then, there was Peter.

I was losing him to himself. I had always known there was something twisted and broken inside of him, but I thought it would heal eventually. After spending time with him, I could see that I had severely underestimated the extent of his pain and madness. And he _was_ mad. Without even discussing it, both Carl and I tried to keep him human, but he was so far gone, so deep in the other world we lived in, that he might never go back to the way he used to be.

I wasn't altogether sure that knowing the truth about what had happened to his son would help him, but I feared that if he gave up, he would have nothing left. I didn't want to see him wither and waste away. I didn't want the world to chew him up and spit him out as it almost had Carl.

I wanted them both to survive. I _needed_ them to survive. After my trip to England, where Lucia had shown me things about myself, what I was capable of, I realised I needed them even more than they needed me. I needed them to keep me human, too.

My cottage was a lot further away from Eddie's shop than my old flat, but I enjoyed the walk. Peter and Carl kept encouraging me to get a car, but I wasn't particularly interested in being in charge of a large weapon, and that was what it would become—something to run down rogue demons and vampires. I preferred to leave that sort of thing to Peter.

I stopped into a nearby deli for some breakfast rolls, and then breezed into Eddie's shop, trying to keep my face neutral as all of his dark magic pressed against me at once. Eddie and I weren't on the best of terms anymore. He had been suspicious of me ever since I made a secretive deal with the angel Gabe to save Carl after both a succubus and I had messed up his mind, body, and soul.

But the deal had been Eddie's idea, and whatever he had been trying to do with that had obviously backfired. He was clearly pissed about something, and whenever I stepped inside the bookshop, I felt his magic warding me off. Sometimes, the ghostly presence greeted me, but she—Maeve as Eddie once called her—seemed to come to me less and less. I actually missed her.

Carl pressed his finger to his lips when he saw me, so I sidled up to the counter and listened. I heard a woman's laugh and raised an eyebrow, but he shook his head, a line on his forehead creasing.

When I first met Carl, he had been handsome and vibrant. Now, a mere six months later, his blond hair was streaked with white and silver, and his once-bright blue eyes were tired and dull. He was still attractive, but he had aged a decade in that short period of time, mostly because of me. He was still getting used to his limitations, although he had taken to his new eavesdropping role like a duck to water.

After a couple of moments of trying in vain to make out the murmurs, I gave up and waited. Eventually, a woman strode onto the shop floor, followed by an agitated Eddie. Agitated once he caught sight of me, that was. For a second, I didn't recognise her. She was a lot different from the last time I had seen her. The human witch consultant to the Council had been unassuming looking before, even kind of mousy.

Now her cleavage was on show and her lips a vampy red that matched the new streaks running through her brunette hair. A head taller than Eddie, she was a voluptuous woman, but she had always seemed plain and dumpy in the past.

She slipped her glasses on with one smooth movement, and the corner of her mouth turned up in a sneer as she passed me, but she didn't say a word. She had been the one who thought I shouldn't go free at my trial before the Council, and yet she was hanging out with Eddie.

She had changed, and it didn't look like much of an improvement.

The way Eddie wrung his hands together, I might have thought they were a secret couple, but she was pretty young, and he was, quite literally, ancient.

"Same time tomorrow," she called over her shoulder before slamming the door behind her.

All three of us flinched. Eddie's cheeks flushed, not surprising considering his pink and ginger complexion, but he seemed positively shaken.

"Everything okay?" I asked, slightly alarmed by his less than calm appearance. If anyone was confident of what would happen next, it tended to be Eddie, so seeing him flustered kind of freaked me out.

"Here again?" he asked dryly, flexing his fingers. "I thought you would have grown bored of us by now."

"Can't let my best buddy starve." I handed Carl his share of the food with a wink.

Eddie frowned. "Or work, apparently."

"You know I need to make sure he's okay." I spoke softly, but I bristled with my own suspicions.

Swallowing hard, Eddie gazed at me, his magic almost suffocating me. I refused to do anything other than smile sweetly, and he gave up and headed back upstairs, but my heart still pounded with apprehension.

I hoisted myself onto the counter to quiz Carl. "New friend?"

He shrugged, unwrapping his food. "She's been popping in, on and off, for the last couple of weeks."

"Why?"

He stared at me. "My hearing's not that good."

"So is she weird, or am I just biased because she flashed me her boobs?"

"I didn't notice," he said, but he was grinning. "My verdict? She's weird. She comes in all meek, leaves as arrogant as... as one of the Council."

"What's she doing here?" I asked, half to myself.

"I'll figure it out eventually," he said brightly. "She comes in too often for me not to."

"You're kind of like a magical sniffer dog now. Good work, Carl."

He threw a pen at me and missed. Cursing, he leaned against the desk and took a couple of deep breaths. The weakness hit him at random moments, and from the hard set of his jaw, he was still struggling to deal with it.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No! Just... just go, Ava." His good mood had vanished, and I felt a squirm of agitation at the look in his eyes.

I desperately wanted to talk to him, but I let it go for fear of scaring him off. I knew he was still trying to find his place in the world, but his weakness wasn't something that should shame him. I could have helped him. Somehow. Like Peter, he retreated and pushed everyone away when things got tough. Not that I could talk.

On the way home, I amused myself with thinking about the witch and what she might be doing with Eddie. It was possible they were in some kind of relationship, but Eddie had a habit of picking up strays so he could use them later on, and she set my alarm bells ringing. I was slowly learning to trust my instincts when it came to people being off in some way.

I bought Dita a comic with a female superhero on the cover. Something about her mother sparked a memory, and I wanted for Dita something I'd never had—to let her see it was okay to be brave, that it was okay to learn how to save ourselves. That lesson was something I was still learning.

# Chapter Three

Uncomfortable dreams haunted my sleep that night. Back in Liverpool with the twins, Lucia and Lorcan, surrounded by hooded figures with baseball bats. Lorcan trying to protect Lucia with his sword. Lorcan failing. The usually silent Lucia, covered in blood, looking straight at me and screaming like a harpy.

I awoke shaking, covered in cold sweat, although my arms felt as if they burned. Turning on the light, I stared at my wrists in horror. A chain of scarred burn tissue circled both of my wrists.

A quick scope of the house soon reassured me that no one had been in my home. So what was the wound from?

I remembered my dreams. They had featured the half-fae twins, who I still owed a favour. I had promised to find a way to free them of their slavery to the vampires. I had promised them safety. I had made a deal, and I still hadn't completed my end of it. Maybe the branding was some kind of reminder.

I scrubbed my entire house, but even the excessive cleaning didn't ward off the feeling of dread that scratched at my insides whenever I glanced at the brands on my wrists.

I had agreed to meet Esther at Gabe's bar, so I walked there that evening, enjoying the feel of the sun on my skin. If I was lucky, we would have a real summer, thus keeping the vampires away for longer.

At the bar, the burly bouncers let me in without any hassle, although a couple of people in the queue hissed as I cut in line. I didn't care. I couldn't see, or smell, Esther, so I sat at the modern bar and waited for Finn.

"Something non-fae tonight," I warned the blond bartender.

He grinned, but the smile froze on his face when he caught sight of my newly branded wrists on display as I removed my jacket. "Who did you piss off?" he asked, lifting my arm delicately and peering at the burn with real concern.

"Someone who doesn't exist," I said sharply, remembering his dismissive comment about half-fae. "So what is it then?"

"A link," he said. "You and your deals are going to get you killed."

"What do I do about it?"

He looked at me as if I were mad. "Do whatever you said you would do before your entire body gets covered with these. Eventually, it'll get inside you. You won't like that, Ava, so get cracking."

"I'm trying. It just isn't as easy as I thought it would be."

He shook his head as he wandered off. "Sucks to be you."

I _had_ been trying, but there were problems. England was going through one of their committee elections. Things were in a bit of an uproar because the elections had been called while most of the vampires hibernated or flew north for the summer. The sneaky elections had really pissed off the British Vampire Association. The BVA had hoped to gain a chair and power for the first time in decades.

Headed by a creepy, but smart, ancient vampire known as Winston, the BVA had returned home and made a huge stink about the elections, which caused some not-so-friendly fire. Travel had been pretty much forbidden until further notice. Not that I knew how I was going to sneak the twins out of the country even if I did make it over. I covered my wrists with my sleeves, deciding I didn't want to be reminded of my failure.

I gazed at the moving dragon tattoo on Finn's stocky forearm as he worked, wondering what would happen when the links got inside me. The wailing of guitars playing Led Zeppelin's _Dazed and Confused_ caught my attention. I turned to watch the performance, and my breath caught in my throat. All eyes were on the woman behind the microphone, and I realised the wailing guitar was actually her voice.

Her mouth barely opened, but her song whipped at my skin as if her passion couldn't be contained, as if it would burn right through me. Her hips moved ever so slightly in time, and there was something hypnotic in her heavy-lidded eyes. I couldn't look away.

"Something else, isn't she?" Finn asked.

I could only nod. She was beautiful. Not just beautiful. As she sang, I wanted to go to her, to sit at her feet and wait for her to tell me what to do next. She seemed vaguely familiar, but that might have been due to the fact that she resembled a blond Jessica Rabbit.

"Don't look right at her," Esther advised.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. "I wasn't."

She snorted. "Yeah, okay. Just don't look at her while she's singing. Trust me."

I turned to concentrate on Esther, but it was hard while the song was still in my head. Oddly for her, she didn't have on a scrap of makeup, and she looked even younger than usual, her dark skin gleaming under the bar's lights. Her hair was scraped back into a tight facelift bun, and her nails were bitten to the quick.

She glanced at me. "Thanks for coming tonight."

"You okay?" I asked, concerned by her bloodshot eyes.

"Yep. We're here for her." She nodded toward the singer.

"What do you mean?"

"She asked to see me, and I figured you would come in handy."

I should have been used to that. "What's going on?"

She sighed and took a sip of the drink Finn dropped off in front of her. "She's Illeana's big sister. Another siren." Esther had always been so light-hearted, apparently incapable of taking anything seriously for more than a minute, but losing two members of her team had affected her deeply. She had been covering it up for a while, but the damage was beginning to show.

"Did they want to talk to you about... about what happened to her?"

She shook her head. "No. I've been looking through records at headquarters, making sure Illeana's belongings made it back to her family. There are a lot of... inconsistencies in her reports and sign-ins, so I spoke to the sister, and she said we needed to talk in person. So here we are." She shrugged. "I've no idea if she'll tell me anything of interest, but I didn't want to talk to her without a witness."

"Thanks for the warning."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Sorry, I just... I need to figure this out without everyone hearing about it. I don't want Illeana's name turned to mud if she happened to do something a little... shady. I owe her that much." Illeana had died to save her, and the pain in Esther's eyes at the memory was heart-wrenching.

When the song ended, the siren beckoned us over to sit in the corner. She was only slightly less fascinating since she had stopped singing. I caught Gabe's eyes on me and turned away. No way was I inviting conversation with him.

"I'm Callista," the siren said in a huskily deep voice. She reached out to shake my hand, but Esther stayed my hand with a firm shake of her head. Callista drew back with a careless shrug.

The siren had to send away a couple of admirers before we could talk. I still wasn't sure why I was there. Callista didn't seem so certain either because she kept glancing at me curiously.

"Can I even trust you?" she asked Esther.

"Illeana saved my life. I'm not going to do anything that harms her memory or her name. I can promise you that. I just need to know what was going on."

Callista leaned forward. "I knew the job would kill her. She knew it, too. She was working two sides. At some stage, they would collide, and she would be stuck in the middle."

Esther covered her mouth, her eyes widening with horror.

"It's not what you think. She was investigating something internal. Something within the Council, or maybe just the Guardians. She didn't tell me much, for my own safety, and I can't understand most of the paperwork."

"Do you know anything? Anything about what she was trying to do?" Esther asked. Being a Guardian was everything to her. She had to believe in the Council to do that job. If something was going on... she might not get through it.

Callista glanced from me to Esther and back again. "What about her? Can I trust her?"

"She's not loyal to the Council," Esther said. "And I trust her."

Callista looked away for a few minutes, watching people sway on the dance floor. Her singing had left a sultry atmosphere, and she smiled as she observed the effect. "So easy to make them happy," she murmured. "My sister told me that she was trying to find whoever's in charge of the slave markets, and she felt as though she might die because of it. She prepared for her death. We live a long time, but she was ready to die."

"Who was she working for?" Esther asked.

I was on the edge of my seat, waiting to hear more.

Callista pursed her lips and let out a soft sigh. "I wish I knew. She wasn't alone. But she didn't trust anyone. She was so paranoid by the end." She turned to me. "You're the one, aren't you? The one who killed that beast."

I inclined my head slightly, unsure if I should confirm or deny.

"Thank you." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Her spirit can rest."

"I want her paperwork," Esther insisted. "All of it. I can figure out what she was trying to do, maybe keep going with it, so it wasn't for nothing."

"Leave it be." Callista took a long swallow of her drink. "If the beast didn't kill her, this would have. At least the way my sister talked." She slammed her glass on the table and leaned forward. "I hear talk. Talk of change and disruption. I think I might get out of here while I still have the chance. If you were smart, you'd do the same. But I'll send you my sister's things. Do what you will, but know that none of my sisters will appreciate a blackening of our family name." She made her way out of the bar, hips swaying. All eyes were on her.

Esther stared after her, chewing on a badly bitten thumb nail. She glanced at me. "What do you think?"

I shrugged. "She could be wrong."

"Or Illeana was working on something she didn't feel she could trust me with. Why?"

How was I supposed to answer that one? "Well, Aiden's your brother, and he's—"

"I got this job because I'm good at it, not because of my brother," she snapped.

I held up my hands. "I was going to say that he would have to report everything to someone higher up. Maybe she didn't trust whoever that might be. Maybe she didn't want to get you into trouble. Maybe this really was something dangerous. If you didn't know who to trust, who would _you_ tell?"

I didn't tell her that I was on essentially the same mission as Illeana. I didn't tell her how strange I thought that was. We could have worked together and gotten things done a little quicker. Unless I was on a dead-end mission that Gabe already knew would lead to nowhere.

"What are you going to do?" I asked before I could let my temper get the better of me.

She drummed her fingers on the table, then nodded. "I'm going to figure out what she was doing and try to finish off the job when I get back."

"Get back?"

"The Council are sending an entourage to check on the situation in England. They're a little nervous about more beasts turning up. Not that you'd catch them admitting it. Anyway, they're sending rookie Guardians, so I volunteered."

A shiver ran through me. "Be careful over there, but... could you check in on them for me?"

"Who?"

"The twins. Remember?" I showed her my wrist. "Apparently, this is going to keep happening until I help them escape. If you could just let them know I'm still trying, but that it's harder than I thought."

She held onto my wrist for a couple of seconds, staring at the scarred skin. "You help me, and I'll help you. I'll go through the paperwork and see if there's anyone you can talk to, someone with information on whatever it was Illeana was really up to. I'll go visit those twins and see if I can get them on a flight home with me."

"That might be dangerous, Esther."

"Yeah? Likewise. But you'll still do it, won't you?"

I grinned. "Too right I will."

She turned her head slightly, the corners of her eyes crinkling with worry. "Uh oh. Here comes the big boss man. Wonder who he wants."

We both watched as Gabe made his way across the dance floor. He stood out amongst the dancers, allowing his inner light to glow around him. A beautiful man with dead eyes.

When he reached our table, he nodded at Esther. "I hear your brother isn't happy about your next assignment."

She snorted. "He doesn't own me. Thankfully. Seemed stupid to send a gang of newbies across the water when I could lead them."

"Is that what you're looking for? Another promotion?"

She glared at him. "I'm trying to do my job. We can't afford to lose any more Guardians."

"Then you should go and prepare yourself. I need to speak to your partner in crime here."

I covered my groan with a cough.

Esther hesitated, then stood to leave. "I'll call you, Ava."

Gabe sat across from me, and I had the eeriest feeling I was about to be grounded. The longer the silence, the more I twisted in my seat, feeling the need to run. His dark brown eyes held my gaze, but there was no emotion there, only a blank mask. He was the epitome of attractive—tall, broad, dark, great features—but it was a shell that hid his true face.

"You know what I'm going to ask you."

I threw a glance heavenward, wishing he would find his way back up there. Our priorities tended to settle on different issues, making our working "relationship" difficult. My main concern was the slave market, while his was Eddie Brogan. The Féinics and possible rebel cause were the unclear wisps in the background, the thing neither of us quite believed in.

"I don't have any news," I responded.

"None at all?"

"Nothing that would interest you. Except, why did you have Illeana running around doing the same things as me? Why not have us work together?" He covered his surprise well, but I caught it anyway. "You didn't? So who did?"

His gaze fell over the bar. "That's what I'd like to know. Any other insights?"

"Eddie's getting pally with that witch consultant. Other than that, nothing has actually happened in the five minutes since you last asked me for an update."

"Don't exaggerate, child."

"That might have a little more impact if you weren't vain enough to portray yourself as a hot young man while you said it."

He frowned.

I couldn't resist the temptation to push him further. "Any updates on the formula yet?"

The corner of his mouth twisted into a crooked smile. "Touché. No, there haven't been any updates. The candidate is still alive. Safe and well."

"Still in the cells, you mean."

He shrugged. "The heart still beats."

"And what about the other candidate? The one that went missing? Gideon come up with the goods yet?"

"He claims it's a false rumour, that there was only one candidate other than Becca. Talk of another was merely a mistake made by one of the Guardians. Of course, they're dead now, so we can't exactly clarify it."

"Convenient. A lot like the way he got off scot-free after everything he did." I glared at Gabe, still annoyed by the fact that the vampire Gideon had managed to avoid his own trial, all because he had helped out during the Becca fiasco. As if he hadn't been the one to unleash her on the world. As if he hadn't used the vampire formula to create a monster. And it wasn't as though he actually helped get rid of her.

"Not everything is in my hands," he said, but he looked pretty pissed at the reminder.

"Can I go, or do you have any other orders for me?"

He pinched my wrist, right on the burn, until I squirmed from the pain. "What did you promise them?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Safe passage. I don't plan on standing by and watching slavery happen." I wriggled out of his reach. "I'm doing what you should be doing."

"As long as you stay alive long enough to repay the favours you owe me, too."

He let me go and allowed me to storm out as if I had stood up to him. I hadn't. We both knew I said what he let me say and did what he let me do. Of everyone, he really did own me because he held my life in his hands. He also held other lives in his hands. He had made it clear more than once that he would happily send me back to the cells if I didn't do his bidding.

One day, I would be free, too. That was the deal I made with myself.

# Chapter Four

Two nights later, I ordered some Chinese takeaway and tidied up a little before the others came over. Esther had gotten the information she needed from Callista, and she wanted to come up with a plan with Peter and Carl. She couldn't turn to her own people; she had to keep secrets, and we were the secret keepers of late.

She arrived first with two cardboard boxes full of stuff and dumped them in the corner of my living room. "Food first. I could eat a horse."

"I really hope you don't know anyone who can shift into a horse," I teased.

She laughed, and I realised it was the first laugh I'd heard from her in a while.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Keeping on. I might as well be a trainee Guardian lately."

I handed her a tray of noodles. "How do you mean?"

"It's like they don't trust me now. They haven't demoted me, but my Circle's still down two members, we're not getting any of the meaty assignments, and even my own brother can't look me in the eye. I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I shouldn't be unloading like this. I'm just frustrated."

I bit my lip. Where was Carl when I needed him? "Maybe Aiden's trying to go easy on you, to make sure you're okay." Her over-protective, shifter-alpha, Council-consultant of a big brother hated my guts, but I couldn't deny that he cared about Esther.

"I'm already okay," she insisted. "Look, let's just eat and go through the stuff Callista gave me."

I opened my mouth to try again, but Carl and Peter arrived and took over the conversation. After we ate, we went through the boxes together. They were filled with scribbled notes, mostly coded, along with photographs, newspaper articles, maps, and some books that seemed eerily familiar. Only when Carl lifted one did I remember that the exact copy was in Eddie's shop. Or had been once. The book was the one Carl had hidden from me, as it contained information about the more negative aspects of my tainted nephal heritage.

"Sell that recently?" I asked Carl.

"I didn't. But I haven't seen it lately. I'll check the inventory on Monday and make sure."

"Good. If Eddie sold it to her, then he might have found out why she wanted it." I was certain of that. He hadn't wanted me looking at the book without his permission, so I highly doubted he had sold it willingly, unless he knew he was getting something out of it.

"Why would she tell that man anything if she couldn't tell her own Circle?" Esther asked.

"You don't understand. He can get the truth out of anyone." I knew that better than anybody else.

Esther shook her head. "We were like sisters. A Circle is a family. Nobody gets left behind." Her chin trembled. "I should have been left behind."

Carl squeezed Esther's hand, a gesture of comfort that hadn't even occurred to me. I had no idea how to help people, even though I felt their emotions more than I should. What use was empathy if I didn't even recognize how to make the pain go away?

"Illeana made a choice," Carl said firmly. "Don't try to take that away from her. She did what she did because she considered you family. You have to see that. What Ava meant was that Eddie uses magic against people. He makes them talk, and they don't even realise they're doing it."

She leaned against him for half a second while I sat frozen with awkwardness. Peter was still rummaging amongst the paperwork, apparently oblivious.

Esther picked up another piece of paper. "This looks like a phone number. I'll add it to the list."

The list was any kind of random numbers or letterings that we thought might mean something. We spent the next few minutes trying to come up with ideas of how to break the codes.

"Maybe Callista would have some idea. Some clue," I said, stretching. My back was killing me from hunching over scraps of paper.

Peter's glass dropped to the floor, where it cracked into jagged edged chunks. He lifted a piece of paper, his hands trembling visibly. "This... this is it. That night. That... _thing_. This is it."

He thrust the paper toward me, and I saw it was a sketch of a creature, a monstrous-looking thing with scaled skin. If it had been in colour, it would probably have been green.

"This is the thing that took your son?" I asked. It didn't look real.

Esther snatched the page out of my hands. "I've never seen anything like this before, Peter."

"But someone else did. Someone else saw what I saw, because I sure as hell didn't draw that. She had to have spoken to someone. Maybe someone who knew something." Then his voice faltered. "You said she was going after the slave markets. My son... was taken to the slave markets." He looked at me, aghast. "This is what he was talking about when he said my son went to hell."

"No," I said. "He was bullshitting us, Peter. He had to be."

"He's a slave," Peter whispered.

"We don't know that," Esther said. "We don't know what this means. I mean, you're human. His mother's family was human. What would they want with him?"

Most of the instances of the market that I had heard about involved half-blooded children. Part human, part... something else. But there were others, like Eloise. She had been human, a special human, but still, just human. So human children had been taken, too. What was different about Peter's son? Could he be alive? Could he be trapped somewhere, tortured and abused? Could he have become as evil as the things that had taken him?

Peter left, and I couldn't stop him. He was in his own space, guarded against everything else in the world. That hand-drawn image had gotten under his skin, pulling out memories he would have as soon locked away for eternity.

Carl and Esther quickly sorted through the rest of the stuff, but I couldn't concentrate, so I focused on cleaning up the mess Peter had made and comforting myself with numbers. I had to come up with something, and soon. Illeana had gotten further than I did. But how? Who had she found to talk to her? How had she known where to look?

"So she has to have some kind of informant or contact or something, right?" I said out of the blue, startling the others.

"That picture might not mean a thing," Esther said.

"You saw Peter's face. It meant something. It's the 'what' that I'm worried about. Do you think she came across someone else who had seen what Peter saw? Or someone who works with them? Someone playing both sides?"

Esther shrugged. "There are a lot of stories here about kidnappings and such. Maybe she tracked down the survivors."

"Maybe," I said, disturbed by how let down I felt.

Carl pointed at the article in Esther's hands. "There's a name on the back there."

Esther turned over the page. "Another one for the list. But maybe it's important. I'll try to check out some of the names of the victims on the system back at Headquarters, see if there are any connections to supernaturals. It's a long shot, but it's worth a try."

"Exactly how high-tech are these headquarters of yours?" Carl asked with a great deal of interest.

She grinned. "Not very, but Aiden's been working on overhauling the plain old magic with some good old hacking. He set up a system, but it'll be years before it's finished, so the records aren't complete. I mean, they have to put millennia of info into the database."

"Will anyone pick up on the searches?" Carl asked.

"I don't know. But there's a human guy working there that's kind of sweet on me. I could probably persuade him to cover my tracks. Maybe he could even help with the other stuff, like the numbers we can't figure out. He's super smart, and Aiden said he's pretty much changed everything for the better over there, so he should have a handle on secrecy. Actually, they found him when he hacked into the original system. They were going to kill him, but Aiden figured he needed him on his team instead. He's shy, but I think I could flirt my way into his good books."

"Only you could work a date into this," I teased.

"Nah, he's in his twenties. Way too young for me."

Carl laughed loudly. "You're barely an adult."

She tossed her hair in an exaggerated movement. "I'm surrounded by centuries-old creatures most of the time. I tend to steer toward older men."

"Some human boy your own age would be good for you." I was only half-teasing that time. Sometimes Esther forgot about the other side of her heritage. She was always so busy trying to live up to her role, her brother's reputation, and the expectations of the ancient beings around her that she forgot she was a twenty-one-year-old who still had a chance at something normal.

"Whatever. I'll check on any phone numbers and see if my hacker boy can tell me anything about breaking a siren's code. I'll get him to run that name, but it might be unrelated."

"I'll try to dig up something on the victims and survivors from the newspaper articles," Carl offered.

"I can do that," I said automatically.

He grimaced. "I'm capable of helping."

"I just thought, well, you'd be busy in the shop. Especially with trying to find out if Illeana bought that book there."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Esther and I exchanged glances.

"Fine. I'll check the inventory for that book," he said at last.

"Carl, I wasn't trying to─"

"Forget it. It'll be faster if you do the legwork, right?" His half-smile was full of bitterness.

Esther got to her feet. "Listen, I should head on. I'll take what I need and leave you two to sort the details."

Esther gathered most of Illeana's things. When she asked me to help her carry some of it to her car, I knew she wanted to talk in private. Bear shifters tended to be stronger than they looked; Esther rarely needed help carrying anything. I picked up a box and followed her out to the car.

She opened the boot of her car. "He's not dealing."

"What am I supposed to do? It's not his fault. None of it is. But he's so weak right now that I can't risk him hurting himself even more."

She stared at me as if considering my words. "You can't treat him like he's a child, though. I've seen it before. Shifters... Guardians... they fall in combat, can't get back on their feet, try to trick themselves into thinking they're the same as before, but they aren't. They can't be. He'll get over it, but it takes time. And I don't think he can do it himself. I mean, he's been through so much that I'm surprised he hasn't lost his mind."

I shook my head. I knew that already. He was stronger than any of us had ever anticipated. He had to be to have survived everything he had gone through. But I didn't know how to handle Carl when he was acting as though he had been neutered or something.

"I'll get started on this." Esther got in her car and fastened her seatbelt. "Stay safe. Both of you. We need to keep this as down-low as possible. Keep an eye on Peter. He might crack before Carl."

She sped away before I could think of an answer. When had I become the stable one of the group? Both of the humans keeping _me_ human were teetering on the edge of something. I wasn't equipped to deal with my own problems, never mind anyone else's.

I still felt guilty about Carl. My suspicions of Eddie's motives had been simmering for a while. The first time I had bonded Carl to me had been an accident, but I should never have trusted Eddie's advice. I had become certain that Eddie knew the bond hadn't broken fully the first time. _I_ should have known. After all, he was Eddie Brogan, the one person who always seemed to know what was going to happen next. It was too late for Carl either way because the effects had lingered in our systems for so long they might never fade.

I had tied him to me in a way that was dangerous for both of us. It hadn't protected him from the succubus I had basically dangled him in front of. Saving him from her, and from myself, had hurt him beyond repair. Even a healing miracle from an angel hadn't quite done the trick. And now that he was in control of his own mind fully, for the first time in months, he was intent on pushing me away. It hurt.

When I went back inside, his mood had turned again as he looked over the newspaper articles with excitement.

"There has to be somebody left," he said. "Somebody who remembers what happened. I think Peter was right about Illeana finding a witness."

"Maybe. Maybe you could help me track them down. If I could just get a couple of phone numbers, we could ring them."

He brightened. "Of course. There have to be some old articles online. Maybe something with a little more information. Finding them should be easy. Getting them to talk will be another thing."

"I'll go and see any we find. _If_ we find any. I have a bad feeling that Peter surviving the attack on his family was a fluke. These creatures have no qualms about killing anyone who gets in their way."

"All we need is one," he said. "We just need the right one to see if we're on the right track."

"Think we'll ever find the truth?"

He dropped the paper on the coffee table. "We have to. Between the lot of us, we can do it. And while I'm checking out the records at the shop, I'll take a look at some of the more obscure books to see if there's an image or description matching Peter's demon."

"Don't call it that!" I took a deep breath. "Sorry, it just weirds me out a little."

"He'll be fine." Carl patted my hand, seeing through my anger as always. "But maybe we should deal with this stuff without him. There's no point rubbing his nose in it, especially if we don't come up with something. And if we do, he'll need to have it broken to him gently. Trust me."

"I'm worried for her, too."

Carl shrugged. "Esther needs to keep her mind off things. I'm not surprised. Something's got to give."

"She's hiding it from Aiden. I wonder how well that one will work out." I found it funny how all of us were so concerned with each other's problems, yet so hesitant to deal with our own inner demons.

"Probably not well at all, but she isn't ready to talk, so we have to wait it out."

"I suppose." I made a face. I wasn't good at waiting. "But what I can't figure out is what that book has to do with anything. It's bugging me why she would steal that specific book."

Carl rubbed the tawny stubble on his jaw. "That book was mostly about your kind, Ava. About the things nephilim could do."

"Like open gates," I whispered.

We exchanged a glance that said we were both thinking the same things.

"It might mean nothing," he said. "It might have been the wrong book, or there's something we're missing here."

"Or it might make perfect sense."

He rose to his feet slowly, clearly in pain. "Don't go assuming anything. We've plenty of work to keep us going, remember?"

"You should be using your walking stick on days like this," I scolded.

He waved me away. "I'm not depending on a piece of wood to get around. I can walk. It isn't going to kill me."

But it hurt him. I could see it in the limp, the tightening of the lines around his eyes, and the controlled gasp as the aching reached its peak.

"Eddie will give you something for the pain if you ask."

"I don't need help," he insisted. "I should get home. Maria will worry."

"How is she?" I wasn't being polite. I really wanted to know how she was treating him.

"She's good, mostly. Getting over everything. She's started at me about returning to work. Her dad's forgiven me now. Pitying the poor invalid." He grinned, but the lightness was gone.

How I wished I could turn back time and fix Carl. "Would that make you happy? To work there again?"

He tried to laugh, but his breath caught, and he coughed instead. "Definitely not. I would rather suffer in Eddie's shop than be perfectly healthy at her father's business. I might not be any use at defending myself anymore, but I'm good at this stuff." He gestured at the book. "This stuff comes easy for me, and if I can make a difference, even like this, then it's worth it."

I knew he meant it, and I was happy to have him in my life.

Chapter Five

Loud banging at my door and someone desperately shouting my name woke me from a particularly restless sleep. "Ava! Ava! Help me! Please! Someone help me!"

In a panic, I jumped out of bed and fell over myself trying to get to the door. Someone needed me. I heard the fear in their voice, and I had to run to help them.

To my surprise, I found Dita on my doorstep, in her pajamas, the beginning of a bruise swelling her cheek. She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"What happened?" I asked. "Are you okay?"

"It's Daddy. He's mad. I think he's going to kill her. Please, help me."

"Your house?"

"Yes!"

I kneeled in front of her and gripped her shoulders. "Get inside and lock the door after me. Let nobody in unless I tell you to. Put on the radio or the television and turn up the volume. I'll be back in a minute."

I moved to leave, but she pulled at my arm. "No! Don't go in there. He'll hurt you, too. I just... I didn't know..."

"I'll be fine, Dita. Get inside."

I pushed her in and closed the door. I had no idea what kind of being her father was, and I didn't have my dagger, but I had to take my chances.

I heard the sounds then, and I knew someone would call the Guardians, or the police, or at the very least, Mrs. Yaga. The noise of things being smashed by either being thrown on the floor or against the walls assaulted my ears, but there was no screaming, and that terrified me.

I ran through the open front door toward the source of the noise. In the kitchen, a human man, red-faced and obviously drunk, towered over Anka, Dita's mother. She was curled up into a ball on the floor. I could smell blood, but I could also hear two strong heartbeats, so she was alive. He had a small microwave in his hands, the cord ripped off, and he was about to slam it on top of Anka.

"Put that down," I snapped.

He turned, comically slowly, the microwave still in his large palms. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm the person who's going to kick your head in if you don't get the hell out of here. Right now, you cowardly fuck." Years of bad memories flew in front of my eyes as if they had been waiting to show themselves. Anka was defenceless on the ground, and still he didn't care.

I remembered curling on the floor, hoping a man would stop kicking me, hoping someone would come and rescue me. I couldn't watch it happen, and I wished the drunk would try to hit me. I had since learned to hit back.

He threw the microwave at me, but missed badly, and it flew into a chair at least two feet to my left. I lurched toward him and slammed my palm into his nose, wishing I had closed my fist, wishing I could hit him over and over again, wishing I could make _him_ curl up into a terrified ball.

I grabbed his collar and led him out of the house before he could take the time to react, holding my breath against the smell of the blood seeping from his nose.

He was absolutely stunned, stumbling after me obediently, and it wasn't until the fresh air hit him that he truly fought back. I avoided his punches and finally forced him into a choke hold that soon sent him into a snorting, slobbering mess.

"Is he dead?" Anka stood in the doorway, staring at me coldly.

I shook my head. "I need to get him out of here, though."

"My daughter?"

"She's in my house, safe."

"I keep quiet, so she won't hear. But he's loud, and she wakes. She comes to save me. Like a superhero. But he slaps her away." She stared at his prone body. "I almost wish you had killed him."

"Yeah, I wish I had, too."

"I called Mrs. Yaga. I need to clean up before Dita sees me."

"Go ahead. I'll wait for the landlady."

She was so bloody calm and dignified. My blood was steaming. Her tank top clearly displayed deep bruises, but her face was unmarked. As she turned, I saw a long slash across her back, with plenty of old scarring, too.

He knew what he was doing. He was well practiced, and she didn't do a thing against him, simply kept quiet and waited for him to finish. And poor Dita had been struck by her own father, and probably because I had tried to convince her she could be a hero. Every time I interfered, I just made everything worse.

Mrs. Yaga turned up as the man began to stir. He mumbled something incoherent and just rolled over. She stepped out of the car carefully. I didn't see who was driving, but they pulled away immediately.

"You interrupted my date."

I couldn't tell if she was joking or serious.

She nudged the man with her walking stick. "This is him, I suppose."

"Yeah. I'm not sure what to do with him."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, don't worry about that. Someone is on their way. Where is the child?" She sounded very protective of Dita.

"In my house. I didn't want to get her until he was gone."

"Understandable. Why don't you keep Dita company until he's removed? I need to speak with Anka alone."

Shrugging, I headed back to my house. I rapped on the front door and called out to Dita, telling her it was okay.

"Is he gone?" she asked when she opened the door. "Did you hurt him?"

"I didn't hurt him." I stood there feeling awkward. "Your mother is just cleaning up, so hang out with me for a few minutes, okay?"

She nodded and let me lead her back into the living room. She had managed to find some late night/early morning cartoons. She sat on the sofa, her hands on her lap, more still than any child I had ever seen. The bruise on her cheek seemed to darken before my eyes.

"Can I get you anything?"

She shook her head. "I just want to go home."

"It's going to be okay, Dita."

Her eyes filled with tears that didn't drop. "No. It won't."

The flat tone of her voice scared me a little, but a soft rap on the door interrupted us. I opened the door to Mrs. Yaga and Anka.

"Come on home, Dita," Anka said, acting as though nothing had happened. Nodding, Dita clung to her mother's hand.

Mrs. Yaga watched them leave. "He's gone. Thank you for helping them."

"You care about them."

"The same could be said for you. After all, you stepped in." She sighed. "I knew her mother once. A shame it came to this for her."

"Where is he?"

"Taken away," she said firmly. "He shouldn't be back, but if you hear anything again, please call me."

"Police? Guardians? Who took him?"

Her thin lips curved upward. "No matter who. Get some sleep. You look exhausted." She left without a word, and I realised her walking stick was missing, yet she walked easily without it.

I tossed and turned the rest of the night, unable to relax. When I heard Dita playing in the back garden the next morning as though nothing in her life had changed, I couldn't resist knocking on her front door.

When Anka saw it was me, she let out a weary sigh before beckoning me in. "Thank you for last night," she said as she laid out cups and a teapot. "Dita has never gone through that, so it was a shock, I suppose. I'm sorry she disturbed you."

"Are you kidding me? I'm just sorry I didn't hear anything earlier."

She glanced up at the clock and twisted her dirty blond hair up into a loose bun. "There was no need for your interference."

I stared at her. "He was beating the crap out of you. He could have killed you."

A humourless smile curved her lips. "I'm sturdier than I look." But her eyes narrowed. "Don't give me that look."

I was taken aback. "I'm not giving you any look."

"I see your judgement, how you think I'm weak, but I'm doing what's best for my daughter. She needs her father, even if he didn't make a good husband. I bring out the worst in him. When it's just the two of them, they're happy. They love each other. That's completely separate to how it is for him and me."

"How could it be best for her to see her father hurt her mother? She was terrified last night. And he hit _her_."

She glanced at the window. "And now she's fine. Children are resilient. As long as the good times outweigh the bad. I'll make sure she never sees him hit me again if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm worried I won't get here in time. Next time. There _will_ be a next time. Surely you see that."

"Like I said. I'm resilient. He's human. A bruise is nothing to me. Believe me, there are worse things." A shadow crossed her face, and I saw true fear in her eyes. She might be calm and sedate, but she had known what it was like to see her death coming.

I could relate, and I softened. "What's your story then, if this is of such little consequence? What's happened to you?"

She shook her head. "If I ask your story, will you tell it?"

I couldn't control my smile. "Try to stop me."

She lit a cigarette and took one long drag. "You are nosy. I couldn't tell before. Dita likes you. She talks about you as if you are a friend. You don't judge her for what she is, do you?"

"I have no idea what she is. Hell, I've no idea what I am."

"Funny you say hell." She inhaled deeply, apparently savouring the taste of nicotine on her tongue. "My mother is a _boginka_. Do you know this word?"

I shook my head, leaning forward eagerly.

"At one time, back home, the boginki were held in great esteem. Humans would perform rituals and sacrifices to honour them. Faith and devotion are power for these beings. The greater the faith, the greater the power, and the more harm their symbols can do to their enemies. It's how gods are displaced, how some sleep while others rule. You look surprised, but surely you know this."

"About why gods sleep? Not for sure, but I've wondered. Someone once told me his gods slept and left him as a... a keeper. Does that make sense?"

She nodded vehemently. " _Tak_! Keeper! Some ride the wave and wait for their time to come again. Others grow too weak, so they sleep and leave their power with a keeper, someone who will keep their memories alive and ensure the faith grows again. If the people lose faith, then the symbols have no power."

"What do you mean, _symbols_?"

She thought for a second. "Like vampires. The religious symbols hurt them, but only those of the modern religions, not the true, ancient ones. At least, not anymore. The ones with the power work. It's how it goes, but the battles for devotion are the longest, the most dangerous. The boginki weren't gods, not really, but they also lived on the faith and offerings the people brought. As time passed, devotion lessened, so they took sacrifices themselves. They swapped the human children for _odmieńce_. Changelings."

She poured some tea, but her hands shook so much that she spilled a little. "They wanted to influence the human children, force their devotion, and have the odmieńce spread their word amongst humans. The human children usually became sacrifices, although some of them remained as servants in the end."

"And they got away with it? Replacing the children? Murdering them?" I asked, aghast.

She smiled. "Of course they did. Why would anyone imagine their child is the spawn of a monster? Who would know? They might suspect, but speak on it, and what would happen in this day and age? There are so few now that it makes little difference. The boginki take what they need to survive."

She exhaled, her face relaxing in a cloud of smoke. "My mother haunted the lake by a small village in Poland. She saw my father almost every day and decided she was in love with him. She showed herself, but he was devoted to his wife and paid her no mind. She made herself look like his wife, became pregnant with me, and when I was born, left me at his home. I am, in effect, a changeling."

I stared at her, unable to decide what I thought of that. "So his child was taken?"

She shook her head. "He had no child, but my mother revealed all to him, and he took me from her. She was so deluded with ideas of love that she let him. He raised me, loved me, but his wife was unhappy. She didn't believe, and she thought me the result of an affair. They couldn't fix their marriage, and she left. But he never went to my mother, and, eventually, she saw her mistake, found a new infatuation, and decided my father should have no happiness. These beings are fickle things."

She smiled wryly, and I found myself nodding in agreement.

She stubbed out her cigarette. "She came for me. She made a dramatic entrance, but he had been expecting her. He knew of boginki, and he knew if she took me I would die or be sold as a half-breed. He couldn't stop her then, though. I suffered for a year, but he found me. He saved me and made me flee to Ireland along with all of the other emigrants at the time. I've been hiding here ever since, but I haven't heard from him. Knowing him, he went after my mother. I met Dita's father, and I was happy to find a strong man to protect me, but we both know how that went. I took Dita and ended up in a women's shelter, and it was there that Mrs. Yaga found me. She brought me here two years ago, and I've been safe, mostly."

Mrs. Yaga had told me she had known Anka's mother. Interesting. But there were more interesting things about her story. "Your own mother would have sold you? To who?"

She waved away a fly in irritation. "They hate the half-breeds, but they all want to own one. They can't take just any changeling, though; it wouldn't be worth upsetting a boginka. Boginkas thrive on spite and would never forget the slight."

"But they wanted you?"

"I have no gifts. I was old enough to know for sure, so she couldn't sell me, and she made me her plaything instead. I would have been safer with another, but then again, my father would never have found me that way. It worked out. In the end."

She gazed at me steadily. "I know you're looking for those who sell the children. You won't find them, but you might die trying. Are you sure that's what you really want?"

"How would you feel if someone came into your house in the night and took Dita because she has your blood in her veins?"

She rubbed her eyes. "Trust me, it's something I've worried about since her birth. But I've stayed in the shadows, and there are no others like me here. The boginki are forgotten, and that works in my favour. Besides, if I have no gifts, what chance does she have?"

"Would you ever go back? Find out what happened to your father?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't risk it. I hope he lives and that he's still protecting me. It's because of him that I allow Dita's father to see her. He's a bad husband, but he loves his daughter, and I believe children need their fathers. If mine had rejected me, I would have died suffering. I can't take that away from her, no matter how badly he treats me."

My insides ached with her pain. She thought she was doing right by her child, and who was I to blame her? I hadn't known my parents; I couldn't see what she saw when she looked at her daughter. But still, I wasn't sure how a bad parent was any better than no parent at all.

# Chapter Six

I couldn't get Dita and Anka off my mind, but I had work to do. I only had a couple of months off from vampire business while Daimhín was away, and it had to be enough time to, amongst other things, track down information on the beings who had taken Peter's son, because it was beginning to look as though they were the same people I was already looking for.

I spent hours online searching for information on any survivors of the attacks Illeana had collected data on. I wasn't sure how she could even tell which attacks were the right ones, and I sometimes felt as though we were on a wild goose chase. Did she have information we couldn't access? Was it guesswork? Had she been wasting her own time? I had no answers and began to feel disheartened until Carl called me.

He whispered into the phone, and I figured he had to be at work still. "Get this. The book is clearly marked in the inventory, but it isn't on the shop floor. It hasn't been sold, but it's gone."

"So, what? Did she steal it? Did Eddie give it to her?"

"Hard to say. But if he did give it away, why wouldn't he clear it from the inventory? I'm guessing it was stolen, but I can't remember Illeana ever being in here."

"And it had to be pretty recent if you knew of the book." I chewed the inside of my cheek, using the pain to help me focus. Carl hadn't been working in the shop for long before Illeana's death, so the theft had to be fairly recent. But Carl wasn't in the shop twenty-four hours a day, so anyone could have taken it without him knowing.

"Should I say something to Eddie?" he asked.

"Maybe not. It might make him suspicious of you, too. Stay quiet for now, just in case."

"All right. I'll go online after work and try to track down someone. I've been looking up similar incidents, and there are some that Illeana didn't have with her stuff. What if she had another hiding place? A lot of the documentation we have doesn't make sense, and I'm not even talking about the coded stuff. What if the codebreaker and other files are elsewhere?"

"It's possible. Maybe we could talk to her sister again."

Carl made a weirdly strangled laugh. "At the bar? Maybe while you're there, you can persuade Peter to go home."

I realised I hadn't heard from Peter in two days and groaned. "Has he been there since the other night?"

"Pretty much. Need company?"

We agreed to meet at the bar that evening. I was killing plenty of birds with one stone lately, but time was running out. The sun was high, but the vampires wouldn't stay gone forever. Although, I could hope the traitorous scumbag Gideon would disappear and never come back.

Living in a mostly vampire-free Ireland had been wonderful, particularly since I no longer lived next door to a greedy succubus who had revelled in feeding on my energy. Of course, not all of the vampires left. Not all of the covens could afford the summer move, but without Daimhín to "contain" me, they kept out of my way, and I stayed out of theirs.

I was no longer living on edge, wondering what the Irish vampire queen's next job for me would be. I wasn't as well paid with her departure, but Gabe was still slipping some cash into my account every now and then to keep me going on his jobs. Council money, but I wasn't too proud to use it for a while. I had been making inroads on repairing my online business that the Council had essentially destroyed, and some days, I felt as though my life might actually be in my own hands. Of course, that generally only lasted until Gabe called again.

So going to his bar wasn't exactly my favourite thing to do, but I would do it anyway. I needed more information about Illeana's undercover work, and then there was Peter.

I should have known better. He had probably already drunk himself into trouble, so our aim was to remind him of the job. Only the work, and sometimes the promise of violence against supernatural beings, brought him out of his self-pitying, drunken stupors. And I could give him both. What were friends for?

I called Esther to give her an update, and she decided we needed a night off to regroup. If Callista was working, we would talk to her. If not, we would get twisted. Okay, _I_ wouldn't, but the others could do what they wanted. I still felt the hangover from the fae drink Finn and Peter had dared me to drink. Never again.

Carl and I met up outside the club and waited for Esther.

"Think he's here?" I asked.

He shrugged. "He isn't at home. I dropped in on my way. The place creeps me out in the dark. I don't get why he still lives there."

"He has to have some memories. I mean, from before they died. Maybe he feels close to them there."

"Or maybe he needs to stop obsessing." Carl ran his hand through his hair, regret deepening the lines on his face. "I didn't mean for it to sound that way. But it can't be good for him to live like this."

My laughter drew all eyes in our direction. "Remember when we said that about you, Carl? Remember when you listened to us and took all of our advice? Oh, no, wait. You didn't. You didn't listen, and you didn't want to know. Kettle, meet pot."

"That was different. I was under the influence then." But he grinned, and I was reminded of the old Carl. Then he nodded over my shoulder. "Here she comes."

Esther strode toward us, crowds of cigarette-smoking supernaturals dispersing to let her pass. Any human would have seen a dark-skinned goddess walking toward them; the supernatural world saw the younger sister of the alpha of all the shifters in Ireland. They saw the head of a Guardian Circle. They saw a close relative of a consultant to the Council. They saw a warrior in pretty clothing.

I saw a girl. At twenty-one years of age, Esther was an infant in a world of ancients. She strove to prove herself, to prove she earned her position, but slowly, she had become disillusioned with the people she worked for. I had observed a change in her, and I saw her as an ally, despite how her older brother felt about me. I had pushed my luck around him, but he was still being hailed a hero because he got the credit for my kill, so I figured he should cut me some slack. The weird thing was that I couldn't help respecting him. He was fierce and strong, things I liked in a person. He was also dedicated and loyal, even if I thought his loyalty misplaced.

As she approached, Esther smiled, her entire face lighting up. She was beautiful, but any envy I might have once felt had all but disappeared. I wasn't meant to be beautiful, but I could control other aspects of my destiny.

"We ready?" she asked, appreciation in her eyes as she took in Carl's appearance. That surprised me. She was into power, and Carl was weak by her standards. Shifters tended to crave someone more powerful than themselves. Peter had once told me that was why the alpha tended to remain single, and as Esther was the alpha's younger sister, she probably had particularly high standards. Carl was still pretty, even though he had aged so quickly. On second thought, maybe the whole looking older thing was what got her going. Peter, on the other hand, scared her a little, although they had grown friendlier since first impressions were made. I had no problem with the healthy distance between them.

The club wasn't nearly at capacity, but a decent energy thrummed under the surface. I often wondered if the magic I felt there was from Gabe or someone else, but whatever it was, it was great for business. Enemies drank together in Gabe's bar, and fights of any kind were rare.

Although Esther had been stabbed by one of her own in the club, the first time we met properly, but that had been the fault of what I thought were demonic shadows. Since I threatened Coyle, the Guardian I suspected of being responsible, I hadn't come across any other instances of the shadows taking over a person's soul. I would always watch, though. And one day, Coyle would pay the blood price for sending a shadow-shrouded human to silence me, for sending a human to his death. Perhaps Peter had influenced me after all.

In a table in the corner, under cover of natural shadow, Peter sat alone except for the evidence of his drinking binge.

Carl nudged me. "You go first."

"Great, thanks. Distract him with me so you don't get killed."

"You can handle it. Seriously, just have a word. He might listen to you. We'll get some drinks in, see if Callista is around, and join you in a few minutes." He squeezed my hand and led Esther to the bar. I knew they would sit there joking with Finn until it became clear I wasn't about to be pulverised by a drunk Peter.

But he wasn't drunk. He stank of alcohol, but he was perfectly sober. I saw that as soon as I took a seat across from him.

"The cavalry has arrived," he mumbled, but when he looked at me, his hazel eyes were clear, except for the red rims under them.

"Heard you moved in here. Gabe would like some rent."

A lazy smile raised the corner of his mouth. "Tell him to put it on my tab." He leaned back and glanced at the bar. "Ah, the whole gang is here to ruin my buzz."

I lifted one of the empty bottles and sniffed it. "I heard these all-liquid diets are really bad for humans. Of course, you left your humanity behind a while back, so maybe you'll be okay."

"Ruining my buzz was correct. Take your best shot, oh tainted one."

I ignored the jibe. There were two Peters: the focused one who couldn't be stopped and would do anything to protect the people he cared about, and the one who sometimes crept into the light and swallowed up _my_ Peter.

"Buzz? Oh, you mean this is you being happy? My bad. I thought you were busy sitting here feeling sorry for yourself when you have work to do."

He wagged his chin. "I was just minding my own business, Ava. No need for the melodrama."

"We're getting closer to finding answers when you bail out to drink yourself stupid, and I'm the one doling out the dramatics? Come on now. Don't lie to yourself as well."

He took a sip of his drink and grimaced before slamming the glass down. I was proud of myself for holding in my flinch.

"Something new come up?" he asked at last.

I smiled sweetly. "You might know if you didn't give up before we got started."

He glared at me.

"All right, no need for the evil eyes. We reckon that book was stolen from Eddie's shop, and we think Illeana had another hiding place because Carl found other stories that might be supernatural, and there are bits and pieces that don't make sense. Like they have a few pieces of the puzzle missing. We were going to talk to Callista again to see if there's anything she might have missed."

"Something electronic maybe? I didn't see a phone or a laptop in those boxes. Maybe she even had a couple of flash drives hidden around the place. We'll never find them." He frowned and leaned forward. "That book. It would be pretty hard to steal from Eddie. He keeps that place locked tight."

"He's upped the ante recently. I can feel the change when I walk in there. Lots of extra padding. So maybe he knows someone stole something."

"Maybe he thinks it was you."

I hadn't thought of that. "Why wouldn't he say something?"

He snorted and lifted his drink again. "You know what these old things are like; they live on secrets and lies. You track down any witnesses yet?"

I shook my head. "That's the biggest reason we think we're missing some info. I mean, she got that image from somewhere. You can't be the only survivor. But the worst thing is how far back some of these articles go. There are legends in certain villages about these things. That's how many families were targeted."

"But why?" he muttered. "Maybe we need to go visiting these places then, Ava. The myth might tell us more than anything recent. People just don't believe what they see anymore."

"Go where?" Carl asked as he sat heavily next to Peter.

Esther took the seat next to me and placed a suspiciously blue drink in front of me. I cast a glance at Finn, who waved.

"Does he think I'm stupid?" I asked, eyeing the glass warily.

"Don't worry, it's blue food dye. He thought it would be funny," Esther said. "Nothing fae about it."

I sniffed the drink to be sure. "Fine. But I wouldn't put it past him to slip me another one. He enjoys tormenting me."

"Where are we going?" Carl repeated.

"Anywhere there's been a sighting of those monsters in the last century," Peter said confidently. "You'd be surprised how many old wives' tales are scarily accurate."

"Esther, were there any other things in Illeana's belongings? A personal computer, flash drives, anything up to date, basically?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Sirens are pretty old fashioned. I don't think she would have kept stuff like that in her house, although, she _was_ keen on her gadgets. I'll check the headquarters and see if I can find anything, but I'm pretty sure someone cleared everything out. Maybe they left something behind."

"Or maybe they took it," Carl said. We all turned to him. "Think about it. Someone put her on to this stuff. Someone high up. Someone was actually able to steal from Eddie, and he hasn't retaliated. Why not? Because he suspects it's someone with more power than he. But if they're that powerful, they wouldn't want any evidence lying around."

We all absorbed the idea, and it made a whole lot of sense to me. "Who then? Fionnuala?" The starkly terrifying head of the council was fae, so in theory, she would know the right thief. Fae magic was the most powerful.

"Maybe. She's the highest you can go here, and it can't be Erossi. He would want everyone to know what he was doing, the cocky git," Peter said.

"What about Koda?" Esther asked.

"He's not exactly on top form," Peter said.

"What about... another consultant," I said, mulling it over. "Someone Eddie owes a favour to, maybe."

"The witch?" Carl suggested. "She's always in the shop, so she had the opportunity."

"And he seemed pretty agitated the other day when I saw her there." I sipped the drink, made a face, and put it back down in a hurry. Damn Finn.

"What about the other consultants?" Peter said. "It's hardly Aiden, unless he specifically wanted to keep Esther out of this to protect her."

"If he did, I'll kill him," she hissed. "But that leaves us with the hottie and the ancient vampire."

I raised a brow. "The hottie?"

"Elathan. He's fiercely hot." She made a face at Peter's look of disgust. "Demons can be attractive, too."

"Demon, as in from Hell?" I asked.

She fidgeted at a beermat. "He was kicked out of Hell."

I stared at her, wondering what on earth someone had to do to get kicked out of Hell.

"I doubt it's him anyway," she said.

I shrugged. "But you don't know for sure. This is getting too complicated. Too many possible players, and no way of us knowing who's in on it. No matter where we step, it's likely to be on somebody's toes. Gabe didn't have a clue what Illeana was doing, and Eddie seems to be a victim of theft, so we can probably rule them out. But both could be covering their tracks, so we're stuck at square one."

"We could ask them," Esther said, but her heart wasn't in the suggestion.

"And risk all of us getting killed?" Peter asked. "Isn't worth it."

"All we can do is keep working on it," Carl said. "And watching out, because as soon as anyone has an inkling of what we're doing, they might want to shut us up."

We discussed our options for a while longer. Callista wasn't working that night, so Esther figured it would be better for me and her to confront Callista in her own home. Esther would dig a little deeper into the mystery of Illeana's potentially missing belongings, and Carl and Peter would keep trying to come up with leads on possible witnesses, or any kind of information that might help. Esther was still working on the hacker in the Council headquarters, and she seemed confident that he would come up with something. Eventually.

I wanted to talk to Gabe, but he seemed busy, so I left early.

Peter followed me outside. "Wait." He grabbed my hand. We walked together for a few minutes in silence. "Thanks," he said at last. "For showing up here."

"You didn't give us much choice."

"Everyone has a choice." As if to illustrate his point, he pushed me against the closest wall and gripped my chin between his finger and thumb. "You could kill me if you wanted to. I could kill you, too. But we don't. Even if we should."

His mouth fell on mine hungrily, but I pushed him away. "What are you doing with me then?"

"You ask me like I ever know what the fuck I'm doing," he said, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "Maybe you're the ultimate forbidden fruit." His lips grazed my jaw, and he reached for my mouth again, forcing my bottom lip down with his thumb. "Maybe I like getting close to the mouth of danger."

I jerked my knee upward, pulling the blow just in time, but he caught his breath all the same.

He laughed softly. "Maybe I like the unpredictability."

"Maybe, maybe, maybe."

The laughter fell from his face, and his eyes turned earnest. "Want some truth?"

I frowned. "Always."

"Truth is, I like to be around you because I don't have to worry about you. No matter what happens, you defend yourself. Nobody is going to come in the night and take you away. And even if they did, I wouldn't ever let myself feel enough for that to make a huge difference to me."

"Wow. You're so romantic."

He laughed, but there was no humour there. In fact, he looked unbelievably sad. "Everything about you is almost ordinary, but all together, it makes up something... interesting. You've brought something out of me that I lost a long time ago. But I can't offer you anything. I have nothing to give you. You have to understand that I don't have anything left."

"I'm not asking you for anything. I've never asked you for anything, Peter."

"I know." He leaned his forehead against mine, and I laid my hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. He gave a little moan. "I should keep away from you," he said, his expression hollow. "But I'm not that good a person."

His words were a cold sword through my stomach. Out of everything he said, I knew that last bit would stick.

The moment ended. Peter made some excuse to go home alone, but I only felt relief.

On the way home, all I kept thinking about were the numerous ways things could end badly with Peter. And after I finally fell asleep that night, I awoke with pain searing my arms.

I turned on the light reluctantly and checked out the damage. More brands. Straight lines ran from my wrists up to my inner elbows, ugly, sore scars that I would never be able to forget. I didn't need the reminders; I couldn't forget the twins if I wanted. My dreams were full of them getting hurt and attacked because I didn't get there in time.

That awful sensation of time running out weighed on me, and I sought comfort in my home. It was the one place I felt safe, even though nowhere was safe from the deal I had made with the twins. Nowhere kept me safe from the brands that would keep coming. The twins didn't scare me, but a lot of other beings certainly did, and my home was the only place I felt even the slightest bit secure.

I still kept my windows open, still fearing Dita's father would return and hurt them both. I needed to speak to Anka again at some stage and find out more of whatever information she had on the slave markets. There were so many lost people in the world, displaced because of things out of their control. I was starting to see what Mrs. Yaga meant about lost souls finding their way to her. After all, I was still a lost soul myself.

# Chapter Seven

I spent the next day in front of a computer screen. First, I had to keep an eye on my phoenix of a business. It had been dragged through the dirt, but was beginning to sprout again. Also, I still had to find out about the Féinics and the rebels, if they even existed.

But Lucia, the half-fae twin with somewhat psychic powers, had been certain she and her brother Lorcan were meant to find the Féinics, and as I owed her my humanity, and likely my life, I trusted every one of her visions. The silence surrounding the slave markets was strange, and even weirder, I could find nothing beyond allusions to the supposed rebellion. The myth was beginning to sound like wishful thinking, and that got me pondering. Who would have the most to win and lose from a full-on rebellion?

I had been hearing rumours about conflicts in the rest of Europe: vampires fighting against their imposed quotas, groups of beings refusing to toe the line. It seemed unlikely, and distant enough to be someone else's problem, but then there was the UK. I had met the leader of the BVA, and I was sure Winston and the rest of his vampires were more than willing to start something huge to get whatever it was they wanted. I knew they wanted power, a higher place in the pack, but what if they had alliances with bigger, badder beings?

My head was a mess of speculation, but the theories were a distraction from what I was really supposed to be doing that day, like finding witnesses from the rather substantial amount of murders and kidnappings that had occurred in a similar fashion to Peter's family's tragic ending.

I had a list of incidents, and they all seemed to have gone down in eerily similar ways. They started with silent break-ins, usually with no outward sign of disturbance. Adults would either be found with their throats slit or their necks broken. All of the families had one child. The body of the child would never be found.

I chewed the top of my pen as I prepared to mark out yet another family on the list. No survivors. Not a one. Why had they left Peter alive? Not enough time? Did someone disturb them? Did someone save Peter? It didn't make sense. The one person prepared to die for his vengeance had survived when it seemed as though nobody else had.

The incidents themselves were scattered throughout the country and appeared to run on a random timeline. The same county was never hit twice in a row, perhaps to avoid suspicion. The major newspapers never picked up the stories. All of the information came from local newspapers, which rarely mentioned similar occurrences in the rest of the country.

The Gardaí hadn't seemed to connect most of the murders either, but that might have been down to a supernatural influence. Ireland was a relatively small island. How many incidents were elsewhere? We might not find Illeana's witness, but maybe we could come across another.

For the next couple of hours, I scoured the internet for articles depicting similar incidents in the UK. Before long, I had more than I needed. But again, case after case, there were no witnesses and no major media coverage. How many people had died because some creature wanted their child?

I almost wished Daimhín was around so I could question her child vampire. Eloise had been taken from her home because she was a psychic. She might have some answers, some insight into where I should look. Not that Daimhín would willingly allow her to speak to me about it.

Before I could get to the end of my new list, Esther arrived. She jumped from one foot to the other, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Come in for a minute," I said, and she frowned. "Steady on, Esther. We're only going to see Callista."

"I just feel like we might be getting somewhere." But she followed me into the living room.

"Speaking of getting somewhere, I haven't. At least, not yet. I've moved my search to the UK. Thank everything for the internet. There's a chance we'll never find Illeana's witness, but we might come across another survivor somewhere else."

She shrugged. "Maybe. The odds are probably against us. But if you could find someone in England, I could make an extra stop on my way to check on the BVA."

"I don't like that you're going over there. People keep talking about bad stuff happening. You getting in the middle of it doesn't give me sweet dreams."

"I have no choice. Guardians go wherever they're sent."

I gave her a wry look. "Number one, you chose this mission. Two, your brother would absolutely make sure you didn't get sent over there if you let him."

She flashed a grin. "I have to be a good influence on the new recruits. Besides, you need me to check on your new friends. Although, I think you might be suicidal the way you're handing out life favours."

I slipped on a light jacket. "We can't stand around when bad things happen, right? So I don't. And I've decided I'll do whatever it takes to survive the night, because there's always revenge." I grinned when she raised her eyebrows. "Besides, I think the vampires have bigger fish to fry right now. They didn't exactly get good use out of the twins."

Esther shivered. "Do you think all of the children are half-breeds?"

"Eloise wasn't," I reminded. "I think us mongrels are just a safer bet."

"Nobody to care about us," she said wistfully. "It just makes me wonder what could have happened to you and me. Or rather, _why_ it never happened to us. I mean, my father didn't have a clue what my mother was. The whole shape-shifting thing shocked him enough to get rid of us. Yet nobody came for us."

"Your mother must have known," I said. "She might have been protecting you by keeping it a secret when you were young. Who knows? As for me, Nancy kept me well hidden."

"She didn't do such a great job of it, though. That woman at the trial, the one the vampires made talk for them against you, she managed to find you. And she smelled human to me."

I felt a pang at the memory of Helena. "When I was leaving England, Lucia sent me an image. Probably accidentally, but it was Helena. She's been on my mind ever since. Ever feel like there's something a lot bigger going on around us, Esther? Like someone else is pressing all the buttons, and we're just running around doing whatever is expected of us."

"That's basically my job description," she said with a grin. "Come on, we should get a move on. I promised Aiden I would be home for dinner tonight."

"Wouldn't want to give the big, bad alpha a reason to hate me. Whoops, too late."

"Shut up." She jostled me as we headed to her car. The vehicle wasn't exactly discreet, being practically miniature and the colour of purple Smarties.

Dita and Anka were returning to their home, loaded with shopping bags. Looking strained at the sight of a Guardian, Anka nodded at me, while Dita stared at Esther's car with longing.

"They the ones?" Esther asked when we got into her car.

"Yep. Any idea what happened to him?"

She shook her head. "He wasn't taken by us. Old Mrs. Yaga is a bit mysterious, but from what I hear, you're okay as long as you're in one of her houses. She protects her properties, and everyone inside them. I don't know what kind of deals she's made, but she's untouchable, as far as us Guardians are concerned. Either way, we couldn't have helped your neighbour, of course, what with her big bad being a human. We don't deal with humans."

I wanted to ask why not, but I knew the answer. Humans were even further down the food chain than us 'mongrels.'

"I feel bad for the kid," I said after a few minutes, although my mind was still on Mrs. Yaga. I had been afraid to look too deeply into what she did, and I kept finding myself wondering if Dita had actually seen her father since that night.

Esther drove away too fast. The sun was still warm, but a sharp breeze came through the car window. I had to keep it open because being in Esther's car felt a little claustrophobic.

"Kids are resilient."

"Oh, I forgot. You _are_ resilient, aren't you?"

She stuck her tongue out without looking at me. "Hilarious. Every single time you lot say it." She pressed the horn as a teenage boy strolled across the road in front of the car. "Idiot. I think some of them actually want me to hit them."

"They think they can sue," I said, smiling as she revved the engine to scare the boy.

"They can try. What were we saying? Oh, yeah, the kid. She'll forget about it. She'll probably grow up determined to never allow a man to lay a hand on her. No need to think the worst."

"The mother insisted Dita is better off with her father, even though he's a crap person."

"That's a bit... off. I couldn't imagine being around my own father would be good for my self-esteem." She glanced at me. "Maybe you're letting yourself get too involved."

"Maybe." I knew why I tended to get overly involved with everything going on around me. It was because I had distanced myself from the real world for so long, and I had that weird hole inside of me, empty because of loss, of unanswered questions. My parents couldn't have put me through worse than my grandmother, but even if they had, part of me was still curious to know what they were like.

Traffic ran smoother than usual, so it didn't take long to get to Callista's home in an affluent part of Dublin city. The house was a large building contained by a gated entrance. Private enough, but no magic surrounding it. No windows were open, and no curtains covered them—nothing that said it was lived in.

"Esther, I don't think she's here."

Esther frowned but pulled in anyway. The gate opened easily when we tried, and we both walked up to the front door together.

After rapping on the front door impatiently, Esther peered in the windows. "You're right." She lifted her hand to chew her thumbnail. "Damn it."

I jerked her hand down from her mouth, earning a wry smile from her. "She warned us she wanted to leave," I reminded.

"I didn't think she would be this quick. The place is cleared out, which means she's taken everything of Illeana's with her. Another dead end."

"Maybe your hacker bloke will figure something out. And we're still looking for witnesses. Don't worry."

She brushed her hair from her face. "It's just so frustrating. We're getting nowhere fast."

"Illeana didn't figure everything out, either. We just have to keep pushing."

We walked back to the car. The wind picked up and blew Esther's loose hair all over the place. We sat while Esther fumed silently for a few moments.

"We're going to keep looking while you're gone," I said, trying to cheer her up.

"It's not that. I'm just... what if we find out something big? About someone in the Council or something. I mean, how do we even start accusing them?"

I turned in my seat. "We're all in this together. If something comes up, we'll all deal with it. Besides, you have Aiden on your side."

"What if he doesn't believe me?"

"He's your brother. You're more important than some stupid Council."

She raised a brow.

"Oh, give me a break. They aren't doing anything amazing in the world, you know?"

She nodded. "But they're in charge. They have power, alliances. Even if we do uncover something, it could go badly wrong."

"You can back out," I said quickly. "But I'm not going to."

She tapped the steering wheel and stared into the distance. "I can't," she said finally. "I need to find out what's really going on." She started the engine. "Besides, if it all goes well, I could get a promotion."

I shook my head, but I understood her point. She had gotten everything because of her brother. Her home, her money, her job, her respect. Shifters grew up fast, but in a world of ancient beings, a shifter of her age was still considered a pup, or in her case, a cub. If she could prove herself without Aiden's help, nobody would ever be able to discount her again.

"Can you drop me off at the bar?" I asked. "I need to talk to Gabe."

"Yeah, no problem."

She drove off quickly once she dropped me off at the bar. Inside, I was surprised to see Callista with Gabe. He handed her an envelope and gave her a tight hug. He saw me watching and frowned. His lips moved, and Callista turned to face me, her cheeks flushing red.

I strode straight over to them. "I've just been to your house," I said before either of them could speak.

"I'm going home to be with my other sisters. The city has been nothing but bad luck for us."

"Esther still has questions for you," I said.

"I don't have any answers," she insisted.

Gabe laid his hand on her arm. "Maybe you should save your questions."

"I have more respect for Illeana than that," I snapped. "We're trying to finish your sister's work here, Callista. If you have anything to tell us, now is the time. Please." I softened my voice the way Carl did when he tried to get through to someone, and miracle of miracles, it actually worked.

She nodded, wiping away fresh tears with perfectly manicured hands. "You're right. And I will keep in touch. I'll call Esther if I remember anything, I promise you. But all I know is that when the Council sent me her belongings, some items were missing. My sisters are old fashioned, but Illeana wasn't. She embraced modern technology, yet none of her gadgets were amongst her things. Even her handbag and purse were missing. I don't... I don't really understand it."

Gabe frowned. "I was telling Callista that they were probably kept as evidence. We're still investigating those attacks, after all."

Callista looked confused. "I don't understand how they could be of any help."

"It's okay," I said. "We'll figure it out. Don't you worry."

She squeezed my hand briefly. "Thank you. I... thank you for doing this for her."

Gabe hurried her out of the bar, suitcases and all. When he returned, I was sitting alone, thinking hard.

"Are you trying to make my life more awkward?" he asked impatiently.

"What the hell is going on? Who is doing this?"

He sat down, looking weary all of a sudden. "I have no idea. And I have a feeling we won't know until we're supposed to."

"You have your suspicions though, right?"

"Too many. That's the problem." He squeezed the bridge of his nose.

"Esther told me she was making sure that Illeana's family received all of her belongings. So someone involved with the Council took them."

"Looks that way," he admitted. "Why are you here?"

I frowned. "I'm not sure anymore. I mean, you obviously don't have any answers either. Except... do you think it's a good idea to send volunteers to the UK right now?"

"How else are we going to find out what's going on? Our people over there haven't made contact in a month. We need to figure out what's really happening."

"The BVA mean business," I said. "The twins, the ones who hosted me in Liverpool, they were pretty sure that the vampires wanted in on this election. They've been trying for over thirty years. It sounds like they would be pretty pissed over this."

"It's not our concern."

"It is if they've been working on making creatures like Becca. Their own slaves reckon they have big plans. As in, 'create an army of beasts and drop them in the middle of their enemies' kind of plans."

He looked more tired than ever. "That's their business, Ava."

I snorted. "Yeah, until they decide we're one of their enemies. Think about it. What if Gideon's been making secret alliances with them all along? He gives the best locations, helps them out, and they make him king of Ireland or something. It makes sense when you think about how arrogant and devious he is."

"He's not that stupid, or rather, he isn't that clever. Gideon's being watched constantly, don't worry. Do you ever stop thinking?" But he smiled, and I couldn't resist smiling back. Gabe was beautiful, even if he was the fakest creature I had come across yet.

"Nobody can stop thinking," I said. "Why am I working for you in secret?"

He seemed taken aback. "Because it could be dangerous for everyone to make this public."

I laughed. "I'm pretty sure everyone knows what I'm doing. The questions make it kind of obvious."

"There's a difference between making it official and making it a poorly kept secret. The best way to keep your enemies on their toes is to let them hear half-truths, so you can watch them try to figure out the lie. This way, I get to see how the rumours affect those around me."

He gave me a knowing smile. "And if we get somewhere, my rewards will make it all worth it."

"For you."

"For me," he agreed.

That evening as I walked home, I tried to sort everything I knew for sure in my head. It wasn't a lot. But I knew, if I kept asking questions, that I would eventually find what I was looking for. As I entered my cul-de-sac, I heard a shrill voice calling my name. Dita. I turned and paused, seeing her mother following her closely.

"Hey, kiddo," I said when Dita ran up to me. "Where you been?"

"We went to the zoo," she said, her eyes bright with excitement. "What did you do today?"

"Boring grownup stuff," I said, giving an exaggerated eye roll.

She laughed, and her mother joined us, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"How are you?" I asked, pleased to see the bruises on her arms were rapidly fading.

"We are good," Anka said, her accent making her words sound harsher than her expression seemed to intend.

"Can I talk to you about some things?" I thought she would say no, but it didn't hurt to try.

She gazed at her daughter and nodded. "Fine. Dita, go ahead and wash your hands. We eat soon."

Her daughter made a face as she took a set of keys from her mother, but she ran ahead obediently. Anka led me as far as the gate, and then blocked the way with her body. "I don't want to hear a lecture," she said.

"I'm not... I wasn't going to give you a lecture. I just wondered if you knew any more about the markets. Anything at all."

She shook her head. "We can't talk about those things. I'm grateful for your help, but─"

"Please. Anything you can think of that might help. I won't keep bothering you about it, but I'm stuck for new leads. I have to do what I can, you know?" I attempted to look unassuming, even a little vulnerable.

She made an exasperated sound, and I tried not to smile triumphantly. "All I know is that there are more powerful beings than us in charge. That much I learned in my mother's presence. Favours, money, alliances—all can be bought with a useful child. Nobody cares about people like us. We have no friends, no power. We aren't pure. That's why you, of all people, need to keep your nose out of it."

She turned abruptly and headed for her house. At her front door, she paused and turned. "But if anyone is capable of finding it, I hear you have the right skills." She slammed the door behind her, and I was left standing there, a chill running down my spine at her words.

# Chapter Eight

The next morning, I had breakfast with Carl at Eddie's bookshop, partly so I could whine at how little we were getting accomplished, and mostly so I could ignore the incessant ringing of my phone. Every now and then, my grandmother got it into her head to call me. Over and over again. I had answered the calls for the first couple of days, thinking something was wrong, but she had only wanted to beg me to come over to see her. I wasn't interested. I didn't tell Carl that though. I just stuck to the current story.

"It's not that we aren't trying," I said. "It just seems like we're blocked at every angle. I mean, I've been looking online almost constantly trying to find witnesses."

"Maybe we're looking too far afield," he mused as he perused websites on his laptop.

"What do you mean?"

"We still have Peter."

I shrugged. "So?"

"So he's a witness, and he went through something pretty traumatic. Maybe he's forgotten details or whatever."

"Well, if he's forgotten them, how are we supposed to make use of him?" I asked.

"What if we spoke to someone else who was there that night? Like a police officer or something?"

I stopped chewing. "Do you think they would even talk to us?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? But it's worth a try."

"'Course it is. Wanna come with?"

His face lit up. "Yeah. After I finish?"

We agreed to meet when his shift was over. He was in charge of calling ahead to see if he could find anyone who had attended the scene.

I walked home and figured I should make use of the next few hours to check out the rest of my leads. With an aching neck, I went through incident after incident, struggling to find a witness. Near the end, I got lucky.

I called Esther. "I've found someone, but they're in England."

"Seriously? That's pure luck, Ava. I could go see them when I'm over there next week."

"They're way, way down south though."

"So I'll go earlier than the rest of the Circle and join them when I'm finished with this lead. We could be on the way to something here."

"Let's not get our hopes up just yet. He's an elderly man. He might not even be alive, never mind still remember anything useful."

She laughed. "It's better than the nothing we had yesterday, so I'm looking at a half-full glass here."

By the time I met with Carl, I was feeling a little more optimistic.

"That's fantastic," he said when I told him. "Even if it's just to hear them confirm what we already know, at least we're getting somewhere."

"I suppose. Are you sure about this though?" I gestured at the police station. It wasn't Peter's local one, but Carl had discovered that one of the officers who attended the scene was dead, and the others had been scattered around the country. Only one remained in Dublin, and he was who we were about to see.

"Look, we'll never know if we don't try." He shifted his walking stick awkwardly. "Let's just talk to him and see what happens."

I followed him reluctantly. I didn't really want to face a Garda, especially since the time I had basically mind-screwed one who had stopped Peter and me on the way home one night. The station was tiny, and the phone wasn't ringing much, but we still had to wait fifteen minutes before someone opened the hatch and took our query.

"We're looking for Garda Whelan," Carl said, standing up with difficulty.

The Garda's face tightened. "That's Sergeant Whelan," he said snappily. "And he's on a break."

"It's all right, Andy," a voice said from behind him. "I'll handle it."

The hatch was shut hastily, and a door to our left opened. A tall Garda stepped through, a smile on his face. "I'm Sergeant Whelan," he said, his voice a soft mixture of Kerry and inner-city Dublin accents. "Can I help you?"

Carl and I exchanged glances.

"We're looking for information on an incident you attended about nine years ago," I said. "Two grandparents had their necks broken, a mother's throat was slit, and a toddler─"

"Emmett Brannigan," he said, his face paling. "I'll open a room for us. Hold on."

He pushed the door open again and headed back inside.

I turned to Carl, raising my eyebrows. "Kind of get the feeling he's been waiting for someone to show up and ask about Emmett Brannigan?"

"Why would he remember the exact name unless he thought it was extremely fishy?" Carl asked. "Or he knows something strange."

"He's pretty young, so would he even have spotted anything weird back then?"

He shrugged. "He's the only one close by, so we better make the most of him. Try not to piss him off, Ava."

I tried and failed to look offended.

Whelan returned with an anxious look in his eye. "Follow me." He led us into a tiny interview room that smelled like sweat and stale cigarettes, despite the no smoking sign. As the Garda sat down across from us at the small table, my stomach turned unexpectedly. We were about to see a glimpse into Peter's past, and Peter had no idea.

"You've given me a little turn," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, and his eyes were too innocent for the things he had seen. He was deeply tanned, with black hair and dark brown eyes, but his skin had grown sallow once he said Peter's son's name. "Nobody wanted to talk about that case. Nobody." He shook his head.

"Can you tell us anything?" I asked.

His eyes narrowed. "Why would you want to know?"

Carl cleared his throat. "There have been a lot of similar incidents over the years. We're trying to find some closure for our friend, the boy's father."

Whelan nodded, his expression softening into one of pity and regret. "Peter."

"You remembered their names," Carl said.

Whelan stared at him. "I couldn't forget their names if I tried."

"Sergeant─" I began.

He held up his hand. "Call me Shay. This Sergeant crap has been the bane of my life. Never mind that." He shook his head again, and I could see we had unsettled him.

"Shay, then," I said, suddenly embarrassed. "Is there anything you can tell us about that night? We're pretty sure Peter has blocked out some of what happened."

"Peter," he repeated. "I honestly thought he would have drunk himself to death by now."

"He's made an effort," I said wryly.

Shay grinned. He had a good smile. "You get a sense for these things sometimes."

"You must have been young when it happened though," Carl piped up.

Shay nodded. "I was still a kid, really. Thought I knew it all, but I was barely out of Templemore, and I hadn't a clue what I was in for. They sent me to Dublin, and I got a few lessons fierce quick. That case though... I'll never forget that night."

He cleared his throat. "They stop affecting you as badly, but you never get some of them out of your head. Especially early on. And that was a weird one. That case was never closed. And now here you are."

He shuddered, and I could see him trying to gather his thoughts. I felt a little guilty for dredging up bad memories, but we did what we had to do.

"When we were called out that night, I threw up at the sight of them. Not just the older couple or even the girl. She was younger than me, so it got to me, but it was _him_. Peter. He was distraught, absolutely out of his head crazy, and everyone assumed he had something to do with it, but he was clean. And I could see it in his eyes. He was in shock, absolutely horrified. They had to sedate him in the end. He cried about the boy, kept calling out for the monsters. The things he said." He shook his head again. "How is he now? He called us every day for a year, but then it all just stopped."

"He's angry," Carl said, anger in his own voice.

Shay didn't seem to notice. "I don't blame him. We couldn't find a trace of the child, and we were told to stop looking in the end. Nobody wanted to talk, and I had the sense that the entire incident was being swept under the carpet for some reason. The man I was partnered with that night kept asking questions, then eventually committed suicide. I took it as far as I could go, but they moved me on, said someone else was going to take over. But they didn't, because I checked. Nobody took over. It was all dropped as if it never happened. Always made me think."

"Why would they do that?" Carl asked.

Shay stared at his hands. "I couldn't ever find out. Sometimes, I think the promotion was to shut me up." He turned on his smile again, but there was no life behind it. "This is where you tell me what you know."

Carl hesitated. "We don't know anything you could use."

"And that means what exactly?"

"It means you wouldn't believe us," I said. "You didn't believe Peter back then."

"About what? The light? It wasn't exactly a lead," he protested.

"What light?" I pinched Carl's arm for support. I wasn't about to hear anything good; I just knew it.

"When he was sedated, even before it, he kept going on about a monster and a bright light saving him. He wouldn't stop raving about it. But after his uncle visited him in the hospital, he calmed down and latched back on to the monster thing again."

"What uncle?" I asked through clenched teeth.

"I don't remember. I just remember I thought it was strange that Peter just dropped half of his story on his uncle's say so. It was a long time ago."

"But you saw the uncle?" I persisted.

"I did, but I can't remember his face." He shrugged. "Like I said. A long time ago."

I exchanged a glance with Carl. Everything was fucked up. _Everything_.

"We can't breathe a word of this," Carl said. "It'll screw Peter up even more."

I nodded, but I was still thinking of how much I hated everyone who wasn't us. Every time we took a step forward, we were tripped up by something from the past. It was all connected. Had any of us stumbled into each other's paths accidentally? Esther had remarked on how strange it was that she and I had remained hidden and survived to adulthood, but what was really strange was that we had also met and befriended each other.

I couldn't suppress my anger anymore. "Hey, Carl. Did _you_ happen to see any bloody bright lights before you fell into Arthur's hands?"

Carl shook his head uneasily, seeing where I was going with that.

"Mind telling me what's going on?" Shay asked in a stern policeman voice, but there was an eagerness in his eyes, and I saw that he wanted to close that case as much as we did. The incident ate at him, and none of it made sense, so he was risking his job to tell us things he probably shouldn't.

"What's going on is that this world is a nasty place, and we're all in the middle of shit we have no control of. The kidnapped children? The ones whose families are murdered, yet the houses aren't broken into, and there are no witnesses or clues left? Yeah, those. Those stories have happened all over Ireland."

Shay sat up straight. "That's impossible. We rang around asking about similar cases. We were shut down in every direction. Are you telling me there's a serial killer running around again? Or the same one?"

I had forgotten the police all thought Becca's actions were the work of a serial killer. I gave a hateful laugh. "The last one was just hunting her food. This one has been going on for centuries. Here and the UK. Probably further out, too."

"Ava, stop," Carl said.

Shay's eyes had already grown cold. "What is this? A joke?"

"It's not a joke," I snapped. "Do some basic research. Maybe grow a pair. Or are you holding out for another promotion?"

Shay's jaw dropped, but I was already on my way out the door. I was angry and upset and confused, and I wanted to take it out on everyone. I stormed down the street until I found a bench. I sat there and waited for Carl to come find me. By the time he sat next to me, I was shaking. Whether with anger or fear, I really wasn't sure anymore.

"What the hell, Carl?" I whispered.

He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. "I know. I know."

Everything was out of our hands, and everywhere we turned, the clues had been wiped away. I wasn't cut out for finding information. I was only able to fight, but I had no idea who I was supposed to be fighting.

***

"Why are you in such a hurry all of a sudden?" Peter asked as we drove down a motorway in the early morning light. I had pretty much forced him into the car to follow old stories across the country. I didn't know why. Okay, I did. I had to feel as though I were doing something.

Meeting Shay and hearing those extra details we hadn't known had ruined any stability I might have had. There was no coolness or calmness about me anymore. I was out for revenge, and I was desperate to find out who had been playing with our lives. I needed to reach the end.

"Might as well get going on this," was all I said.

He glanced at me curiously, but he stopped questioning, which was good. Carl and I had sworn not to tell Peter what we had done. In some ways, Peter held his past fiercely in his hands, hiding it from everyone so they couldn't use it against him. We couldn't tell him that we knew something he didn't remember. Still, it sickened me to keep it from him. It sickened me even to think about it. I wasn't sure of anything, but Shay's words had convinced me that an angel had interfered. That left me with two questions. Which angel, and why?

I had let it bother me for two days straight before making Peter take me for a spin. I was running out of options, and I figured his idea of investigating the past, even the ancient past, was better than doing nothing.

Out of all the places affected by the scourge of child kidnappings, one area seemed to be cursed by it over the years, relatively speaking. Across a number of tiny villages in Kerry, an inordinate number of the same type of tragedies had occurred. That such a small population had garnered so many red flags made us figure it would be a good area to start in. I just hadn't expected it to be so small and desolate.

We had left all main roads at least two hours ago, and we had passed more cow dung than I cared to think about. The roads became narrower, the breaks in farm life far more irregular, and I knew we were in proper rural Ireland, probably the Ireland that tourists came looking for before they had their wallets stolen in Dublin city. Maybe I was feeling a little more aggressive than usual, but the sporadically overwhelming stench of dung wasn't helping matters.

Still, even I had to admit that the rough mountainous terrain and even the occasional glimmering lake were attractive enough to admire. Maybe some day I would have a real holiday somewhere.

We passed an unusual number of random places decorated with flowers and plaques to mark a fatal accident. I had the overwhelming sensation that we were in a forgotten place, a place marked by death, misery, and bad luck. I couldn't shake the melancholy.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, biting into my self-imposed silence.

"Fine."

"You're a little... twitchy today."

I gazed at my hands and realised with horror that I had been tapping and counting. "God damn it," I muttered. I had been trying my best to wean myself off of my obsessive compulsive behaviours, but as soon as I wasn't paying attention, they came back in full swing.

"It's okay to need it sometimes," Peter said softly, but he avoided my eyes.

I leaned back and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds outside. It was actually quite peaceful once I stopped feeling determined to hate everyone and everything.

"Why here?" I wondered out loud. "Why do they keep picking on these people?"

"That's what I'm hoping to find out. There's a small village about a mile away. Do you want to drop in there and see if there's anything going on?"

But there was nothing there. Nobody who remembered anything. Nobody who wanted to talk. Same with the one after that. The occurrences there had happened too long ago.

"One more," Peter promised, persisting with the belief that there had to be someone out there who knew something.

I didn't feel like giving up yet, so I was happy when he drove into the last village in the area. The place was almost silent, eerily so. An old man stood in a doorway and stared as we drove past, and my stomach grew cold. I couldn't imagine asking anyone questions in that place.

A strange feeling overcame me. No talking. No questions. Keep quiet and go home.

"We'll have a drink in the pub," Peter said. "You can bet your arse some old crone will give us a story."

"Please don't talk like that in there," I whispered.

"What's with you?" he asked.

"I don't know. I just feel... quiet."

He shook his head, probably wondering why I was in such an odd mood, but I couldn't help it. Something was creeping over me the further we drove. The village was smaller than I expected, but I saw at least two pubs. We went into the smaller of the two, once we had parked the car.

I readied myself to drive home afterward, but Peter just nursed a shandy. The bar man was nice enough, but nobody was overly friendly. We sat in a corner for a long time, feeling the chill of unspoken words. I tried to look touristy, staring at the wooden beams and old Guinness post cards decorating the walls, but I felt myself crawling inside a shell instead.

"This is kind of creepy," I whispered, but Peter wasn't paying attention. He was too busy staring at the bar, so I turned to see what he was gaping at.

A tall, broad figure was approaching the bar, and the barman almost dropped a glass when he spotted him.

"Ah, it's the Whelan baby," the bartender exclaimed. "Come to see the oul' woman, have ya?"

"Shay?" Peter said, and the figure turned slowly. I gulped down a swear word as Sergeant Shay Whelan looked straight at Peter.

He gave an easy grin, muttered something to the barman, and came over to sit with us. "It's been a while, Peter. You're all grown up now."

Peter laughed. "I almost didn't recognise you. You've gotten old. If your man at the bar hadn't said Whelan..."

"Enough of that out of you," Shay said good-humouredly.

Peter sobered. "It's funny, but I was thinking about you today. I remembered your family were from this part of the woods. Not working in Dublin anymore?"

Shay cast his gaze on me, and I shivered. "I'm just down for the day, following a lead. Besides, I haven't seen a relative down here for a while."

I heaved a sigh of relief when he didn't acknowledge me at all.

Peter jumped to his feet. "I'll buy you a drink." He practically ran to the bar, and I stared after him, confused by the way he was acting.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Shay said, taking a seat.

"Following a lead," I mumbled, unable to take my eyes off him. If he told Peter that Carl and I had gone to see him, only bad things would follow. "Don't tell him," I pleaded.

He shook his head. "I wasn't planning to. But you and your pal got under my skin the other day. Idiot that I am, I couldn't resist taking a look at what you were talking about. Funny how we both landed here." His face changed. "What's strange is how many times I visited this place and heard the old stories at my nan's fireplace, yet I didn't connect how similar they were to himself over there."

I started to ask him what stories he was talking about, but Peter set a pint in front of Shay, interrupting us. "Forgot the introductions. Shay, this is my friend, Ava. Ava, this is Shay. I'd call him a friend, but he was just doing his job."

They shared a little banter, but all I could think about was why Shay had turned up in the same place as we had. Had he believed me? Was he really trying to figure out what the hell was going on?

Shay took a deep drink of his beer. "So are you going to tell me why you're really here then?"

Peter grinned at him. "Sight-seeing. We're interested in hearing about the local folklore."

"Ah, sure, I can help you with that. You've come to the right place at the right time. My dear old nan doesn't talk to strangers, but a friend of mine? No bother. She's a bit of an expert, you know?"

Peter cocked his head to the side. "You offering?"

"Of course. Just let me sink this pint, and I'll take you to her. Both of you, is it?"

Peter glanced at me. "Only if that's okay." He ignored my glare.

Shay smiled at me. "I'm sure we can squeeze her in."

He wasn't joking. He took us to a tiny cottage. The old woman sat by a range in the kitchen, leaving one other chair. Shay practically shoved me into the seat as he made his introductions. His nan was really his great-grandmother, a wizened old lady with white eyes and a balding head. Shay was from the closest town, but he often visited her, although less often since he moved to Dublin, he explained.

The old woman's fingers curved around an old blackthorn walking stick, but the root end that acted as a handle was so large, I couldn't imagine her being able to lift it. She spoke quietly, seeming confused, until Shay asked her to tell us some old stories.

A smile deepened her wrinkles. "It's a story you're wanting, is it? We have many of those. Is it the wee men you're looking for?"

Peter shifted his feet impatiently.

"Actually," I said softly, "we're more interested in something specific to this area. There have been a lot of tragedies here. Murders, kidnappings. Can you tell us if there are legends associated with those?"

The woman swallowed hard, then sucked her false teeth furiously. "You're asking a hard question there," she said. "It's true we've been struck by tragedy in this part of the world. Have ye noticed there are no children running around? Only old ones, coming home to die, mostly."

Shay embraced her. "But not you," he said firmly.

She gave a low cackle. "No, not me. Not yet. Not if I can help it anyway." She frowned. "What was I saying?"

"No children," I prompted.

"Ah, yes. We've learned since then. Nobody talks about it, of course, but anyone young enough to have a child moved along. Before that, children were sent to the town to live with relatives for a time. They say this place is cursed for children. And there are stories, yes."

"Do you know the stories?" Peter asked.

She nodded. "Shay, love. Can you make me a cuppa? I'm gasping."

Peter fidgeted while Shay moved around the tiny kitchen, swallowing up the space with his size. The smell of the brewing tea managed to calm me a little, and I watched with interest as Shay and his nan spoke about a seemingly endless amount of relatives.

When Shay finally handed her a cup of tea, Peter's face was coloured with impatience, but the old woman took a couple of sips, smacking her lips in satisfaction. "You were always a good boy," she said to Shay. "I'm so glad you're here. It's been cold today. I have a chill in these bones that won't leave me."

Shay found another blanket and draped it over his nan's lap, but I had a feeling nothing would warm her at the moment.

"The story, Nan," he said gently. "They're still waiting for the story."

"Of course they are. Waiting, waiting." She sighed. "People say the old days were a different time, but the crimes committed here have been going on for a long time. A shocking long time. My grandmother used to tell me that they blamed the Ogham stones, back in the old days. Runners-in called them bad luck, but the old families knew the truth of the matter. We might not talk a lot, but we remember everything. And yes, it all began with the Ogham stones."

I inhaled sharply and stared at Peter in dismay. Shay saw me and kept his gaze on me, so I turned back to the old lady. I was probably overreacting, but so much was connecting together that it seemed more than coincidence that Ogham stones were mentioned when one of the gods Eddie had told me about was Ogham.

"We have more Ogham stones than anywhere else," she said proudly, her face brightening. "It's said the old gods blessed us with knowledge, gave us the art of script before any others to reward us for our dedication. We were a faithful people, and even now, the remaining Ogham stones are protected like gold. The old gods were good to us, so long as we were loyal. We were the centre of something special. We were a very lucky people then."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

The woman leaned toward me, another smile creeping across her face. "This is one of the important places of magic, my dear. The magical beings were attracted to us because we were on sacred land. We were important. But it all went wrong."

"How so?" Peter asked in hushed tones. The air had quietened again. I could hear no wind, no crackling fire, only an old dog barking far off in the distance and some heartbeats. Some beat faster than others.

"People forgot the things they learned. They grew selfish, less grateful for the gifts they had been given. Christianity came, all fresh and new, and we forgot the old gods, so they punished us. They took their power and left us alone. What was sacred turned unholy, and the protection we had was gone. They say demons came to us then, instead of the gods."

"Demons?" I asked breathlessly.

"Demons," she echoed. "That was our punishment for abandoning the old gods. They abandoned us in turn, and we were left defenceless when evil came for us. All we had was the blessed waters that the gods themselves had bathed in, and it gave us strong children, special children. Children so special that the demons wouldn't stay away, no matter how hard we fought. There was a fierce battle and good lost, so the gates were opened, and many things squirmed free. We were silenced and cursed and—" She hacked a phlegmy cough, gripping her walking stick tightly. "I need to sleep."

"Wait. We need to hear more," Peter demanded.

"More? They're just stories, my boy. No need to be afraid of the dark. It's the light that brings shadow. No children here anymore. Nothing for the demons to come for." She tried to stand, but fell back in her seat.

I knelt at her feet and took her cold hand in mine. Her pulse was fading, slowly, but fading all the same. I gazed at Shay. "She's not well."

Peter took a step toward me. "But we need—"

"No, Peter!" I said. "Leave her be."

Frustrated, Peter stormed out of the cottage. I was relieved to see him go.

"Can you help me?" Shay asked.

We both half-carried her into her bedroom, a tiny room connected to the kitchen. We lay her on the bed, draped a warm blanket over her, and huddled together as we watched her chest heave up and down.

"It's always been hard to talk here," she muttered before her eyes closed.

A chill fell across the room, and I moved closer to Shay. "How old is she?"

"Ninety-eight. Thanks for the help."

"It was our fault for getting her over-excited. She's a real storyteller."

He nodded. "Some stories are better than others. Why did you want to hear the legend? Why not the truth?"

"What's the truth, Shay? Can you tell me?"

He looked away, and I saw his shoulders tense.

"Why are you really here?" I asked.

He caught my eye, rock steady in his gaze. "Because I've seen things that don't make sense. Ever since I started working, there have been things I can't explain, and there have been so many more things swept under the carpet. I'd like to understand, and you gave me an excuse."

"Keep out of it," I warned. "Trust me. You don't want to get wrapped up in this stuff."

"It's good enough for you."

I held up my hand. "I'm not like you. And I was thrown into this unwillingly. I can't explain anything in a way you would understand. Hell, _I_ don't even understand a lot of it."

"But you understood her story. I watched you, your reactions to the story. You believed every word of it as truth, didn't you?"

I would have loved to learn the things he had seen, but I couldn't drag anyone else into our mess. "I should find Peter," I said instead.

"I hope you aren't dragging him into new delusions," he said as I left. I hesitated, then kept on walking. He could think what he liked.

Peter was back in the little pub, but he wasn't having a shandy.

"Give me your keys," I said.

He shook his head, but I was undeterred. "Keys, Peter."

"Give her the keys."

I cursed under my breath when I heard Shay's voice behind me.

"Your nan all right?" Peter asked him bitterly, handing the keys to me.

"She's old. There isn't exactly a cure for that."

Peter smiled, but it was a tired smile. For the first time, I wondered if he was close to giving up on everything. Dread crept over me like a shawl made of ice.

The three of us sat around a small table while Peter finished his drink. I expected to leave after that, but he stood and said, "I'm buying a round."

"I have to get him out of here," I said, half to myself.

"Let him have one or two," Shay advised. "He'll be easier to move."

"So you say. Why are you hanging around?"

"I'm curious." He shrugged. "I trust my gut, and my gut is telling me to keep an eye on you. What's your story? How did you and Peter meet?"

It was my turn to smile. "You don't even want to know."

"Are you planning on asking any more questions?"

I shrugged. "Kind of what we came here for."

"They don't talk," he warned. "Nan said they were silenced, and in a way, that's true. They don't trust outsiders, and they won't tell you anything about themselves. Nan is different, but she isn't particularly well. If I hadn't been there, you wouldn't have known she could speak."

"It's fine. We're not going to pester her or anything."

"How about I do you a favour? I'll ask around about kidnappings, see if anyone remembers anything. There are two villages close by I could visit as well. I'm from here, so they might talk to me. What do you say?"

"We've been to those villages already." I eyed him warily. "But why would you even do that?"

"Because I want to know what you think is going on." He picked up my mobile from the table before me and tapped in his number. He handed me his phone, and after a couple of second's hesitation, I saved my own to his contact list.

"Is it true? About the children?"

He shrugged. "Old places die out. You need children to survive. It's too rural here for modern families. They like the comforts town can bring them; that's all. Nothing to do with gods or evil."

I wished that were true. But gods and evil had everything to do with the villages dying; I was sure of it. Peter returned, and I couldn't speak to either of them honestly in front of the other, so I remained silent.

Shay was right. After two more drinks, Peter was a lot more pliable, and I persuaded him to allow me to drive him home. Shay told me he would keep in touch, and if I hadn't been so concerned for Peter, I might have felt a little flutter of anticipation at the tone of his voice.

On the way home, Peter's face was tight. A sudden fear that he somehow knew what Carl and I had done gripped me, but eventually, he asked, "What did _you_ think?"

I blew out a sigh of relief. "I think we need to talk to Eddie. He told me Ogham was one of _his_ gods."

"Maybe. It sounded to me like she was talking 'bout the gates of Hell opening."

"Stop it. It's a story."

"Only something like you can do that."

Some _thing_.

"Daimhín told me she had someone like me killed before, although that was back when they were calling me a daywalker. But I'm pretty sure she knew what I really was, even then. She said her maker owned one, but they killed him," I rattled on, unable to stop. The quiet feeling had disappeared, I realised.

Peter glanced at me. "You okay?"

I nodded, pressing my lips together as tight as possible, refusing to allow even one number an escape.

"I can't stop thinking about the water," he said. "Gods bathing, special children. What does it all mean?"

I had my suspicions. I remembered a conversation with Daimhín about how she didn't crave Yvonne's blood and how humans had once been bred for certain things. Maybe the water had been some kind of protection. Maybe the after-effects were still showing years later. Anything was possible. I was scared to see how true that was.

"Where did your son's family originally come from?" I asked. "Yvonne and... everyone?"

He gave me a funny look. "They lived in Dublin their whole lives."

"I meant... their ancestors. Never mind."

He cleared his throat. "You're probably wondering about Shay."

"Uh, yeah. I suppose I am."

"When... the night I lost my family, he was there. He's a Garda and was on call that night. He sort of looked out for me, went a bit easier on me than the rest. He was good to me when he didn't have to be. Went above and beyond, you know?"

I nodded. "Sounds like a nice person."

"He is. He's decent. I liked him a lot, but when I went off the rails, I kept away from him. I didn't want to drag him down with me." He shrugged, acting nonchalant, but I could see beyond his words, and I discovered a newfound respect for Shay.

But all thoughts of Shay and Peter's friendship flew out of my head with one phone call from Esther. "He did it," she said excitedly.

"Who did what?"

"Robbie... the hacker... he made a breakthrough on one of the codes. He's _this_ close to getting a name."

"That's great," I said, but I found it hard to get excited after hearing from Shay's nan. Plenty about the story made me uncomfortable, and I knew I had to get to the truth, one way or another. But first, we needed to put a face to the potential name that Esther's hacker had come up with. It was beginning to look like the easiest part of the job.

# Chapter Nine

Shay called me with an entire lack of news from Kerry. "I heard a couple of versions of the same story Nan told us. But most didn't know the tales. I told you, they're a quiet people."

"They've been silenced," I muttered.

"What?"

"Never mind. Listen, thanks for asking around. We would have just wasted our time. How's your nan?"

"Cold," he said sharply. "She's been deteriorating for a while now, but she refuses to move out of that cottage. The draught alone should have killed her by now."

"She's strong," I said, remembering how she had told the story regardless of whatever kept people silent in her village.

"Runs in the family," he said, and I heard the smile in his voice. "Is Peter okay?"

"Probably not, but that's Peter."

Silence on the other end, then, "If you need help with him ever, even if he just needs a good kick up the arse, let me know."

I laughed. "I will. Thanks."

We exchanged a few pleasantries that were particularly awkward, at least on my part, but Shay was so warm and friendly that he could hold the conversation all by himself. Then, we hung up without further promises to stay in touch.

The following evening, Robbie the Hacker finally came up with a name─Ben O'Halloran. Esther came straight to my house to tell me face to face, but we couldn't get in touch with Peter. He was distancing himself again, and I didn't know how to stop him.

"Human?" I asked as I stared at the name.

She shrugged. "Maybe. 'Cause of the surname. Robbie is still checking our records, just in case. There are some humans in there."

"Like Peter and Carl?"

"That's classified." But her grin confirmed it.

I had already told Esther about our trip to Kerry, but I wondered if Shay could be of any help in his official capacity. I hadn't expected to ask him for help again, at least not so soon. I texted him with the name and asked if there was any way to find the person.

He rang me back almost immediately. "Are you talking about Moses?"

"Moses? Huh?"

"It's his nickname. When he was small-time, he was called Bennie. Then he set out on his own, and now they call him Moses."

"Small time what exactly?"

"Drug dealing, mostly. Let's just say he's well-known in Dublin. I haven't come across him in a while, but I can check for you. Is there some reason I should know about?"

"Just following a lead."

"I can't see what Moses would have to do with Peter, but I'm intrigued to find out."

I laughed. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

He texted me again later that night with an address strangely close to the warehouse Peter and I had pretty much broken into recently. More circles. He also sent me a warning to be careful.

Shay baffled me. Why was he helping us so easily? Maybe he had reached the point where he didn't care anymore, where he had to feel as though he were making some kind of difference, no matter how small.

Esther didn't care about Shay's warnings to be careful. She didn't even ask why a Garda might be helping me. No surprise at all. That made me wonder if the police were helping the Guardians. Or at least some of them. That made a certain kind of sense, especially after Shay's frustration over how he had been hindered in his investigations. But was he blocked to keep the supernatural world a secret or because powerful people were involved in the incidents?

"We'll be fine," Esther reassured me the following day. "Me and you together. We'll go and have a few words. That's all."

Something squirmed in the pit of my stomach. Nothing was ever that simple.

Late afternoon, we got to the block of flats that held Ben O'Halloran's most recent abode. The place looked different in daylight. When Peter and I had passed it in the dark, it had seemed dangerous. Sunlight made it sort of lifeless.

Dead eyes watched us as we climbed the dark stairwell that smelled of piss and sex. The flats were compressed together, too many people packed in one building, and the sounds of their heartbeats overwhelmed me. My other sense saw a mass of energies as we made our way to our destination.

We paused outside the door. Number 66. Perfectly wrong. I tried not to look at it.

Esther threw her shoulders back, cleared her throat, and rapped on the door. Music filtered through an open window, and for a minute, I thought nobody was coming. After another, more impatient, knock, an old woman answered the door and eyed us warily when we asked for Ben.

"Moses," I added, and she nodded.

She made us wait outside for long moments before beckoning us in. We stepped right into a room where music was blaring. A teenage girl slept off what were probably the effects of the night before, if the black smudging around her eyes was any indication, on a tiny sofa also occupied by two men, while another held court on a leather recliner as if he were King of the Flats. He was chubby, with light brown hair, wicked brown eyes, and a dimple that belied the coldness in his expression.

"Ladies," he said, smiling at the man standing next to his chair. The man lit a joint and handed it over.

"You Moses?" Esther asked, and he took in her figure with exaggerated appreciation, smacking his lips around the rollup.

He took the joint out of his mouth, still eyeing Esther. "I am. And who the fuck are you?"

Esther glanced at me, but I shrugged, letting her deal with him.

"Doesn't matter. I'm here about Illeana," she said.

He coughed and made a shooing motion with his hands. "Everyone out."

The man who had fired the joint carried the sleeping girl away, and she didn't stir.

"She okay?" I asked.

"Fuck her." He waited until everyone had left, the last one closing the door.

I relaxed slightly. One chubby git wasn't too dangerous.

But the look in his eyes said differently. "What about Illeana?"

"You know her." Esther stared at Moses, unflinching.

"Yeah. Fine thing that she is." He grinned, but it was all bravado. A line of sweat rolled down his temple as he took a deep drag of the joint.

"She's dead," Esther said. "How did you know her?"

"Are you... _like_ her?" He peered at both of us curiously.

"We're different. Think fangs and claws," I said.

He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. "I didn't kill her."

"As if you could," Esther scoffed.

His eyes grew colder. "D'ya know who I am, love?"

"We don't give a fuck who you are," I said. "We just want to know how you knew Illeana."

"I'm legit here," he said, gesturing at the room. "I'm selling for one of your crowd, all right? Illeana checked up on us every now and then." He licked his lips. "Always enjoyed her little visits, if you know what I mean."

Esther leaped at him, her fingers digging into his throat before he could blink. "No. I don't know what you mean," she hissed.

He choked out a word, but he couldn't speak with her hands constricting him, so I pulled her back. She smoothed her hair and waited for his response.

He glanced at us warily, seeming to finally understand who had the upper hand. Swallowing hard a number of times as he adjusted his T-shirt, he nodded as if agreeing with himself. "Look, I'll tell you everything I know, but it's not a lot. She asked me questions, and she had an arse on her like a peach, so I gave her the answers. That's all. There's no story here."

"What questions? Who are you dealing for?" I was fuming. Supernaturals even had their fingers in the drugged pies.

"If you don't know, then I ain't saying. Threaten me all you like. Can't be worse than what I'd get for telling. People are relying on me here. I can't be seen to snitch, or they're all dead. I liked the chick. So I gave her a name."

"What name? Why?" Esther bared her teeth a little, and I inched away in case she went grizzly on his arse.

"She was asking about slave labour, yeah? People trafficking, sex slaves, stuff like that. I've had a few crossover deals, so I got her in touch with the bloke I knew. If anyone's moving people, he knows about it. She said she'd contact him. As far as I know, she did. She hasn't been back since. I didn't know she was dead; I swear it."

"Did she ask you about children?"

"She just wanted to know about who to go to if you wanted to transport a few living bodies. I've had to do a lot of shit over the years, and I've come across every shade of creep there is. I knew what she was asking, and I gave her the answers. Not my problem what happened next."

"We need names, too," I said.

"I'm not giving you any fucking names. I don't know you. Either of you. The other one earned an answer." He turned and leered at Esther. "But if you get down on your knees, I might be persuaded."

I smacked him across the head. "Give me the name, or I'll rip out your fucking throat, you little twat. Filling your own neighbourhood with drugs. You should be ashamed of yourself."

He stared at me, stunned. "You've got it wrong. I'm giving them jobs. What else do they have? Have you even seen this place? There's nothing here. _Nothing_." He took a deep breath. "Look, I'm giving them protection. You don't understand. Nobody can touch them as long as we do what we're told. The people in the flats? Most of them don't even know that. They just think I'm your average scumbag. But I've seen some crazy shit, and I know what's out there. Dealing is better than letting them be fucking... fucking zombie food or whatever."

"So you're scared."

"I'm not fucking scared!" Spittle flew from his mouth, and he got to his feet in a rage. "I have no fucking choice, you little cunt. We're surrounded by these fuckers. They won't leave us alone. They know we're already fucked. The rest of the world doesn't give a shit what happens down here. So we adjust, and we fit in, and we do whatever the hell we can to survive. I'm doing the best I can with what I have, and trust me, it's a lot better than what came before me."

"You're pathetic," Esther sneered.

But I felt his passion and fear. I felt what he wasn't saying. "We could help you. She's got a voice. We could get rid of them."

"You can't get rid of things that have been here since before we were. We'll never get rid of them, so we have to live next to them, wherever they say we can live, and let them push us around." He sat back down, chest heaving.

"There's a warehouse nearby," I pointed toward the west. "I was there recently. Lots of alien-looking creatures in there. Are they the ones bothering you?"

"The brethni? Nah, they're no bother. They work for us if we need them to. Besides, they have even less rights than we do. Those lads are grand. Good workers. No messing around, no touching up the girls and causing trouble. Look, this has gone on long enough. If you're seen─"

"We'll go if you do for us what you did for Illeana. Set us up." Esther's voice had softened.

He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "You don't understand what you're asking."

"I work for the most powerful people out there," she said. "I can help you if it comes to that. But you have to help me first."

He moved to the window. "I'll try. I'll talk to him, but I'm not promising anything."

He exchanged info with Esther, his hands shaking. We left, and all eyes were once again on us as we headed down the stairwell.

As we walked by a playground situated between two blocks, Moses leaned over his balcony and shouted down at us. "Don't be seen here again, girls."

Esther nodded, and I kept my eyes on the curtains opening and the people coming out to stand in their doorways. Protecting their own. What had been really going on there?

As we got to Esther's car, I was sure I felt eyes on me still. I glanced around and saw a car down the road, a familiar figure in the seat.

"Esther, I'll make my own way home, okay?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Ring me when you hear anything else."

She drove off, leaving me free to confront my new stalker. I slunk down behind a car, ran in the shadows, and rapped on Shay's passenger window as he was still craning his neck to try to see where I went. He jumped, and then with an unabashed grin, he leaned over and opened the door.

I sat in the passenger seat and closed the door. "Are you stalking me now?"

"Yes. Just making sure Moses was a gentleman."

"Yeah, well, I can handle people like Moses."

"Can I give you a lift?"

I looked back at the flats, feeling a shiver run down my spine. "Fine. But no more stalking."

"I can't actually promise that one," he joked as he started the engine. "Moses behave?"

"Yeah. It's an... odd neighbourhood."

"Close knit," he said. "Everyone taking care of each other. A real community."

"Except for all the drug dealing."

Shay shrugged. "Moses deals outside his neighbourhood. That's his rule. He took over all of the dealers and sends them working outside his area. No dealing in the flats."

"What a pioneer of morality. So everyone else's kids are fine to coke up?"

"It could be worse. But they don't like outsiders as much as I don't like unanswered questions. Hence the stalking."

"You make it sound like he's doing something good," I said.

"Don't get me wrong, Ava. He's a dangerous man. Never forget that."

I directed him to my home, wondering how much crime was connected with the other world. "Why is he still on the streets?"

"Someone keeps getting him out of trouble." Shay frowned. "Haven't found out how he manages it, but he seems to have made friends in high places."

"Of course he has," I murmured.

I was comfortable around Shay. He didn't have a clue about me, so there were no anxious feelings trapping me in a whirlwind of tense emotion. I hadn't been in blood-freak mode for a while now, and his didn't seem to call out to me, so it was pretty freaking relaxing in his company.

"Your nan doing okay?" I asked as he pulled into my cul-de-sac.

"As good as can be expected. She was asking about you. The girl with fire for hair."

"Isn't she blind?"

"Pretty much. Yet she managed to see you." He grinned. "Let's hope not all of her guesses come true."

I stared at him for a few seconds in confusion. "I'm down at the end. You can let me out here though."

"That's okay." He pulled in right outside my house.

I became suspicious that he had already known my address. I thanked him anyway and got out of the car, slamming the door behind me.

"Ava," he called out, following me to my gate.

I faced him, running through every bad scenario in my head. He could be working for anyone. Anyone at all. But there were no shadows. No anger. No fear.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I was wondering if I could take you out some time."

I stared at him for a couple of seconds, wondering if I heard him right. "What, like a date?"

"Yeah."

I burst out laughing.

The smile dropped off his face. "Not quite the response I was looking for."

"No, it's not you. It's just... I've never been asked out on an actual date before, and the first time is from a Garda who doesn't even know me." I bit down on more hysterical laughter. He thought I was normal, an ordinary woman. And I didn't want to be the one to tell him otherwise. Being normal, even for only a few minutes, felt surreal in a good way.

"Off-duty," he said, grinning again. "And the point of the date was to get to know you."

"I can't. I'm sorry," I said, sobering.

"You're with Peter." It wasn't a question.

I shook my head. I couldn't actually claim that.

"But you're... waiting for him," he said softly.

I couldn't even attempt to answer that.

"You'll be good for him," he said, touching my arm gently. He turned to leave, but hesitated, giving me a worried glance. "But I don't know if he'll be good for you."

He left me standing there with a strange ache in my throat. I struggled to control the urge to count. I always hated when people voiced my own fears.

# Chapter Ten

Esther was going to England, and I was terrified for her. She seemed happy to be getting some responsibility, but whenever I remembered the BVA and how callous they were, it worried me more than I could say. Esther was on a triple-threat of a mission. She had her Guardian responsibilities, was tracking down a possible witness, and hopefully, figuring out a way to make contact with the twins.

I expressed my worries to Carl, and he seemed to share my concerns. But he appeared to be more troubled about the marks on my arms. The burns hurt, and they were definitely a good reminder.

"How many more scars are they going to give you?" he exclaimed when I rolled up my sleeves after we had lunch together.

"As many as it takes." I gave a harsh laugh. "It's not like they're my only scars, Carl." I still had vampire bite scars on my hand and chest, not to mention a raised scar on the back of my neck from Becca's claws. A tiny scar from a bullet wound decorated my stomach. Ugly scars ran around my entire calf from two separate biting incidents.

"Good thing you're a tomboy," he said, ruffling my hair. I shrugged him off easily, and he threatened me with his walking stick.

"Down, boy, or I won't tell you everything that's been happening."

I ran through everything that had occurred in the last few days. Peter, Shay, Moses... all of the information had been whirling around my brain, and I desperately needed someone who could sort it out.

"Maybe you should avoid the copper, Ava."

"He's the one following us around." I hadn't told Carl about Shay asking me on a date, and I wasn't really sure why. Shay's interest had unsettled me more than I could have expected, perhaps because I didn't see myself as a real person, and there was someone who didn't know any different. I could be anything to him if I let myself. But I wouldn't. "I think he's trying to make sense of the half-truths he knows."

"What if he's not? What if he's working for someone else? Trying to see what you know."

"It's possible, but Peter seemed really happy to see him. And Peter trusts nobody."

"I'm just saying. Be careful. He seemed genuine, but we're surrounded by backstabbers. Who can we really trust?"

"I trust you," I said without thinking.

"That's different. The whole bond thing makes that a given."

We hadn't talked about our old bonds before, and I fidgeted with my sleeve. "Do you still feel it?"

He shook his head. "Not like before. You know, after the first time we broke it."

"I think it wasn't really broken then. I think Eddie knew that, too. But it was probably really the only way I could take you back from Alannah."

"I've had my own mind," he clarified. "You weren't telling me what to do. Actually, you were, but I never listened." He grinned.

"I don't mean the mind control part. I mean... the connection? It's as if I was so protective of you because, deep down, I still felt as though you were mine. That sounds weird, right?"

He held up his hand. "No, I get it. Everything that happens now sounds weird when you say it out loud, but it makes sense on some other level."

"And then there was the second bond," I said, watching him carefully. "And my blood."

He inhaled sharply. My feeding him my blood in a desperate attempt to save his life hadn't been discussed by any of us, avoided in the same way we ignored the fact that Peter had offered me his blood to save Carl. It was a twisted circle, but it might just have been the things that kept us all so closely knit together.

"It didn't change me." But it sounded like a question.

"No. But Gabe asked me what I did when he tried to heal you. He knew there was something different."

"You helped. I was asleep, but I was conscious. I felt you inside me. That sounds creepy, but it's true. I didn't remember, though. Not at first. Sometimes, in my dreams, I see it again. The light. It's beautiful." His eyes watered, and for the first time, I wondered what exactly we had done to make Carl better. I knew he still had nightmares, and they were probably my fault, too.

"When's Esther leaving?" he asked abruptly. Baby steps.

"Tomorrow night. The others are following her over by the weekend."

Carl snorted. "How did she get Aiden to let her go?"

"She's an adult."

"Tell that to her brother. Are we having a goodbye drink then?"

"What is it with you lot and alcohol?" I teased.

Carl arranged for the four of us to meet up at Gabe's bar again, and I couldn't help wondering if he was maybe avoiding some problems that didn't involve us.

"Everything okay at home?" I asked him gently.

"Fine." But his jaw tensed. He had suffered most from meeting us, yet he couldn't keep away, and sometimes I wondered if it was down to the bonds I had created with him, especially the ones meant to help him. We might never know for sure, but I understood the things he had said about feeling things on a base level.

I wanted to ask him more about it, but Eddie stepped onto the shop floor and interrupted us by clearing his throat in that way of his that meant my time was up.

"I need to speak with you," I said, remembering Shay's nan.

"Perhaps I can fit you in next week." He smiled in a way that didn't reach his eyes.

"Now," I said, ignoring the books falling from the shelves as he expressed his anger.

"Ava," Carl whispered, sounding worried.

"See you tonight, Carl." I brushed past them and went straight into the backroom. I kept a wary mental eye on Eddie, just in case he sent a sneaky attack my way, but he settled down, and Maeve brushed through my hair in welcome. Or warning. I could never tell for sure.

"What now?" Eddie asked as he took a seat.

"I heard a story the other day. A really interesting story."

He sighed wearily. "What's your point, Ava?"

I frowned. I wasn't totally sure. "An old woman told me the place where she lives is cursed because the gods abandoned them as punishment. She said the water the gods bathed in made special children, and that darkness came and took the children. One of the gods was Ogham, I think. Make me understand, please."

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. "I suppose this was near an Ogham stone."

"A number of them, actually. In Kerry."

His body jolted. "Kerry. What's to understand, Ava?"

"What happened there, and what it has to do with what's happening now. Is this something to do with your gods? Why Peter's son was taken? Tell me!"

"Calm down. You act like it's something personal, like the loss of his child was planned. His child is gone, Ava. He's gone. Stop trying to give Peter's pain a purpose."

"I'm not. I'm trying to _help_ Peter."

"Then get him to live in the present rather than the past. The story you heard, and I'd love to know how you heard it, is likely true. Gods can be cruel masters, but they leave gifts behind, and yes, in certain times, the devoted benefited. But I've told you before, people slowly forgot the old gods, betrayed the old ways, and the gods left them to sleep. With that sleep, they took away their protection also, and all manner of things were allowed to prey in places they never had before."

"And they stole the gifts? I mean, literally?"

He nodded. "Sometimes. Sometimes dark things escape their prisons, and sometimes those who are supposed to be good are the ones who set them free. Sometimes they are confused young people who know no better. Sometimes not."

"You know then. Who set them free? What are the dark things?"

"I don't know anything you can use. But I've told you before, Ava. Times are changing. We need change. Fresh voices in command. It's the perfect opportunity for those in hiding to crawl to the surface and force their hands."

"You mean rebels. Where are they?"

He shook his head, sadness in his eyes. "I can't see them. Nobody can. No matter what I do, they remain hidden. But you could find them for me. I'm sure you could. You could help me change everything, Ava."

"Help you start a war, you mean."

"No. Help me fix our country. What kind of people are in charge, Ava? The kind who allow children to be taken. The kind who protect the darkness. Think about it. Think about what you should do."

I stood abruptly, suddenly terrified. "I... I don't..."

He smiled, and Maeve brushed my hands urgently. "Think," he said again.

"I have to go."

I fled, only waving at Carl as I left. Eddie wanted to instigate something terrible, but what if he was right? What if something so drastic was the only solution? What if I could help him stop those who needed to be stopped?

What if I caused a disaster that killed innocent people?

***

I thought it was just the four of us meeting that night at Gabe's bar, but Esther brought a few friends, and it seemed impossible to talk to her in private. Carl appeared to enjoy himself, but Peter was withdrawn again.

I sat next to him. "You all right?"

He nodded glumly, and I knew I had to reach out to him, to force him back to us.

"Haven't heard from you much," I said hesitantly, realising he was likely to run if I pushed too hard. I was walking on eggshells around everyone in my life.

"I'm not good company right now, Ava." He sounded more tired than angry, and that encouraged me. I leaned against him, and he let me.

He took another gulp of his drink. "This isn't working anymore. Seeing Shay brought it all back. He was good to me back then. I've never thanked him, and now I don't know how."

"Saying the word usually works."

"It's not enough. I told you I was on the list of suspects for... the murders. Well, he was the one person who stood up for me, who didn't act like I was some scumbag murderer. He acted as though he were on my side, and he even came to the hospital when I... when I couldn't manage. I had never met him before everything fell apart, but he was the only one who came to see me."

"No family?" I asked, thinking of what Shay said about Peter's uncle visiting him.

"Told you. My only family is in Spain. My da didn't really think it was worth coming home for. If it wasn't for Shay, I wouldn't be sitting here today. I wouldn't be sitting anywhere today. I wish I could tell him. Explain to him what's really happening."

"But you can't."

"But I can't." He squeezed my knee. Too hard. "Are we getting closer to the end, Ava?"

I realised just how drunk he was, and my heart sank. "We're getting closer, Peter. Don't worry." I couldn't tell him about Eddie. I couldn't tell him about so many things, and I worried he could see the lies in my eyes.

But not when he was drunk. He was blind when he was drunk.

I left early, leaving everyone to their own devices. Sometimes I couldn't breathe for how sad I felt for Peter. And sometimes I couldn't breathe for how angry I was at him. He was his own worst enemy.

***

I decided to work on my business while Esther was gone. It had to be better than sitting around worrying about her. I couldn't sleep the night after she left, so I opened a spreadsheet and tried to forget about our collective mission. We had no more fresh leads, and I didn't want to go looking for old leads again.

The trip to Kerry had unsettled me. Shay's nan had seemed as though she came from another time. And I well believed their curse of silence because even I hadn't wanted to speak much while we were there. Some kind of eerie gloom loomed over the village, and I had been filled with such a sense of foreboding that I never wanted to go back. The childless village filled me with a new kind of dread.

I was interrupted from my work, or rather my staring at a blank screen, later that night by a loud rap on the door. For some reason, I expected to see Shay, but Peter stood on my porch, his eyes bright with excitement. Sober Peter. Awesome.

"Answer your phone, woman," he said, brushing past me.

"It's charging. What's up?"

He fell onto the sofa with a grin, pulling me onto his lap. "Esther called me when she couldn't get an answer from you."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, fine. She's tracking down that old man. Anyway, she wanted you to know she got a call from the drug dealer. He's set up a meeting for the weekend, if you're still up to it."

I grinned. "Of course I'm up for it."

"Well, good, because I already arranged it. I can almost taste it, Ava. This could be it."

I tried to get up, but he held tight. Closeness only ever came when he had the scent of a hunt.

"It might be bullshit though," I said, ignoring a pang of hurt that tried its best to distract me. "Moses isn't exactly Mr. Clean."

"It's better than the sweet-fuck-all we have now. At least we'll be ruling out another lead if it turns out to be nothing."

"Fine. What's the deal?"

"We're to meet him at the IFSC in the middle of the night, behind the bank, just us two."

I frowned. "Why the middle of the night? That's weird."

"Less chance of being seen. He's an informer, Ava. He has to think of his safety in this. We don't have a name, but we'll see him on Saturday. It's not a big deal. We'll be fine."

"Yeah." But I didn't feel fine at all, and I got the sense Peter was latching on to any lead at all. Too many secrets were coming out of the woodwork, and I almost refused to go, but I had promised Esther, and that meant more to me than my own made-up discomfort.

Peter remained jumpy with energy, and when I hinted at an early night, he left to "take care of some business."

***

The following evening, Esther called. "The lead is a no-go, Ava. I'm sorry. He was so senile that I couldn't get a full sentence out of him."

"Poor man," I said. "We'll be okay."

"As long as our other lead comes through. You're not backing out, right?"

"Of course not," I lied. "I've no intentions of backing out."

"Well, good, because I'm going to see your twins next. If everything goes well, I might be home by Monday."

"Here's hoping. Just be careful, Esther. Winston, Victor, and Cass aren't Daimhín. I spent a couple of hours with them, and that was way too much for me. They're different over there."

"Don't _you_ start. I've enough of Aiden's lectures to last me a lifetime. You might want to keep out of his way. He's somehow got it into his head that you're to blame for this."

"It'll keep him on his toes."

But when I hung up, I had a terrible feeling that I kept pissing off the wrong people.

# Chapter Eleven

Nervous tension shuddered and trembled throughout my body as I waited for Peter to pick me up. We were going to meet Illeana's contact, completely relying on the word of a well-known drug dealer. If Moses had lied, I was going to kill him. That was, if I didn't die first.

I sat on my front gate while I waited, drinking in the night air. The moon had always brought something out of me, as if giving me life, and hunger sometimes, but on that night, all I felt was fear.

The unknown contact had unsettled me, but the way everything seemed to be spiralling out of my reach kept me awake. Too many skeletons rested in too many closets. Too many lies seemed to grow and multiply before my eyes. Who could I trust? Even _I_ was keeping secrets from Peter.

I pressed my fingers against the long burn down my right arm, flinching at the sting of contact. I knew I had to help the twins, but how could I put Peter second when we were so close to finding out more? And if my suspicions were right, one solution could lead to the other. Everything was connected, and I feared someone had laid a path for me to find my way into the middle of it.

The familiar sound of Peter's car engine drew my attention, and I hopped down from the gate, steeling myself. He pulled up, and I jumped into the front passenger seat, ignoring the way his knuckles whitened as he gripped the gear stick and sped off. He was as nervous as I was, but I couldn't let myself think about it, or I would lose my own nerve.

"We don't have to go," I said after a few minutes.

"Would you stop? What has you so edgy? You're making me nervous."

I wanted to remind him that he was already nervous, but I didn't see the point. "I have a bad feeling," I began, but I couldn't find the words to continue.

"It's not a big deal. You've done scarier things."

I nodded, still unable to shake the terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. "I'm just tired," I lied.

"This is your holiday, remember. Daimhín will be back soon enough."

"But not yet," I whispered and fell into silence for the rest of the journey.

We parked near a Garda station and walked past the bus station to the outer buildings of the International Financial Services Centre. Tall buildings loomed over us, their many windows reflecting moonlight prettily. We were a little early, so we checked out the area, wandering down perfect pathways that were lit up like it was daytime.

"It's kind of peaceful here," I said as we walked closer to the dock. The water lapped in a calming sort of way.

He shrugged. "You picking up anything yet?"

I wasn't. I couldn't even hear heartbeats, which was strange. There should have been security guards at least, or people in some of the buildings. All I could hear was water. We moved back the way we came, and all of the lights in the buildings switched off, one by one. I swallowed hard as I glanced around, seeing darkness come for us rapidly.

"What's going on?" I whispered.

Peter gripped my arm. "Hear that?"

I concentrated and heard a shuffling sound, harsh breathing, and slow footsteps coming our way. A shadowed shape slowly moved toward us, the moonlight gleaming off the knife in its hand.

"Get ready," Peter said.

I hesitated. Something was wrong. The only aggression was coming from Peter. If anything, whatever was walking toward us was scared. It was small, slow, and... confused.

"This isn't right," I muttered, but the figure kept coming, and suddenly, the lights came on.

Peter drew in a choked breath. I threw out a hand to stop him, but missed.

"That's it!" he shouted as he ran. "That's the thing."

The thing was green, scaled, and looked like a monster, but something was wrong. Using my other sense, I went to the next plane to see what I was really looking at.

Human. Shrouded in magic. Human that smelled...

"Peter, wait! It's a trick!"

I ran after him, but his fist collided with the figure before I could reach him, knocking it down. Cinnamon-scented blood filled my nostrils, and in desperation, I threw myself at Peter, taking us both to the ground.

"Stop it!" I shrieked as he struggled with me, his hands reaching for my throat in his rage. "Stop it!" I straddled him and punched his jaw, not hard, just enough to get him to listen to me. "It's human! It's a trick! It's just magic, Peter. It isn't real."

"It's real!" he roared, pushing me off and jumping to his feet.

The figure dropped the knife, trembling visibly on its knees.

Peter lunged again, but I got in his way. "Listen to me. It's a child, Peter."

"It tried to attack us."

"It didn't. It stood there with a weapon in its hand. It didn't attack you. What you saw back then... that wasn't real either."

His face contorted with anger, pain, and frustration. "It... it could be the same one."

"Peter," I said softly. "He smells like you. His blood... he's—"

"Don't you dare say it," he spat. "Don't you dare."

"But I'm sure it's him, Peter. I'm sure it's Emmett," I said, tears in my eyes as I wrapped my arms around what looked like a small monster. "I just know it's him."

"My son is dead!" He turned and ran.

With a heart weighed down by horror and pity, I turned to the figure. I choked down a sob as he clung to my jacket, blood pouring from his nose.

"It's okay," I said softly. "Everything's okay."

I took off my jacket and wrapped it around him to cover his face. His clothes were falling apart, but they would have to do. On a whim, I took the knife, too. I lifted him—he was light as a feather—and I ran. Whoever had sent him had expected him to die, I supposed, but that didn't mean they wouldn't come back.

At first I moved almost aimlessly, mostly concerned with getting away, but then I found myself running toward Eddie's bookshop, keeping to shadows as often as possible. Eddie would be awake. He never seemed to sleep. And he was the only one I knew who understood magic and might be able to tell me if my suspicions were correct.

Peter didn't believe me. Or he couldn't handle it. I wasn't even sure what was going on. There was a chance the person I carried wasn't Peter's child. He was a little small, not even as large as nine-year-old Dita. I might have been wrong, building false hope like that. But there was something in my gut that knew the tiny being in my arms belonged to Peter.

The lights were still on upstairs in Eddie's home above the shop, so I knew he was awake, but as I lay my hand on the door to push it open, a cold breeze flung itself at me, physically pushing me away. I hesitated before making my decision and running to the end of the road. Looking back, I saw the witch leaving Eddie's place and silently thanked Maeve for warning me.

Maeve stuck with me, her cold spirit encasing us as I ran home. I didn't know who to call, or what to do, but I had to keep the kid safe first, and figure everything out later.

Once I made it to my cul-de-sac, my arms were shaking, but the sense of relief that settled over me was substantial. We were home. We were safe.

I carried him into my house and laid him on the sofa. He huddled up into the corner while I went to the bathroom and grabbed a cloth to clean up his face. When I returned, he flinched at my touch.

"I promise, kid," I said. "We'll be fine. I just need to make a phone call, and then I'll make you something to eat. You must be hungry."

I hid the knife he had been carrying on top of the bookshelf, made the call, and went into the kitchen to make some sandwiches and pour a glass of milk. I laid the food and drink on the coffee table in front of the kid, but he didn't respond, not even a grunt. I got some biscuits and handed him one. He took it carefully, his stumpy fingers trembling, but he didn't eat it.

I sat next to him in silence, not quite knowing what to do next. A knock twenty minutes later made him jump, but I reassured him before I answered the door.

"Come in, Mrs. Yaga. Thanks for this."

She sat on a chair across from the child and observed him silently for a few minutes. To my surprise, she smiled at me. "You attract the lost souls, too."

I didn't have a clue what she meant.

"The magic will wear off," she said. "It's just a glamour, intended to fool temporarily. It isn't permanent. Not enough strength behind it."

"Is there any way of telling if it's him?" I asked. "If he's Peter's son?"

She sighed. "Ava, why do you think it's that child?"

"It just makes sense to me. We've been asking questions about him, about a creature that looks like he looks right now, and then he gets pushed in our path. And he smells like Peter. His blood... I would know it anywhere. I know Peter. I just know this is Emmett. He's not talking, though."

"Likely he can't. This is the kind of being Peter saw that night?"

I nodded. "Yep. And we saw a drawing of it, too. We've been trying to match it to a name."

"You won't. It doesn't exist. This has always been a shroud, a disguise. Whoever is involved in this really doesn't want to be found."

"No, they don't. But they wanted Peter to hurt his own child. Why?"

"To distract him? To punish him? If the child had died, the glamour would have vanished, and Peter would have seen the truth. _If_ it's his child. Either way, he would have killed a child, not a monster. I doubt even he could brush that aside so easily."

"It means we're getting closer to the truth," I said. "If they're going this far, then we have to be close."

"They might come back for the child," she warned. "They won't stop warning you away. You won't be safe while you keep asking questions."

The boy nodded off on the couch, so I carried him into my bedroom to lay him on the bed. When I brushed my hand against his green-scaled face, he nuzzled against my touch in his sleep. A pinch in my stomach reminded me that he wasn't mine to keep.

"Can you watch over him for a while?" I asked my landlady when I went back into the living room. "I need to do something."

"Are you going to Peter?"

"No. He's... he won't listen right now. At least, not to me. I'm going to the person who set up the meeting tonight. He has to know something. If he does, then I'll get it out of him, one way or another."

"I will watch over the boy, but you should think twice about jumping straight into battles. Is that really the life you want?"

"Do I have a choice?" I asked, deadly serious. "I don't see any other way for me."

"I once thought the same," she said with a secretive smile. "Perhaps your life will change as mine did."

"Do you know what it is I'm going after?"

She shook her head, her wrinkles deepening. "Nobody does. That tells me enough to know it is a battle I cannot win. This isn't some small-time demon making a few extra euro, Ava. This is a sprawling arrangement that could take your life if you interfere too much."

I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache setting in. "And if I sit around and do nothing, I'll torture myself with what ifs. There are children somewhere, waiting to be sold. How many have already been sold? All because nobody gives a crap."

She nodded again. "And you see yourself there, with those children."

I ignored that remark. "I need to go. Thank you for watching him. I'll be back as soon as I can." I left before she could plant any more seeds of doubt in my mind. I had to find Moses, and I would poke out his eyeballs before I returned home without some answers.

The flats were silent when I finally got there. I heard an occasional burst of laughter through an open window and an odd wail of a cat, but mostly, silence. I realised for the first time that the streetlights surrounding the flats were all broken, every single one, and I remembered the lights going out before the child appeared and only coming back on as if to ensure we didn't miss him.

Seeing the lights were still on in his home, I ran up the stairwell to Moses's flat. I rang the bell, and as soon as a woman answered the door, I pushed past her and went straight for the living room. A couple of men were playing some video soccer game in front of a massive television on the far wall.

When Moses caught sight of me, he hesitated before giving me his usual fake grin. "Where's your friend?"

I flew at him, fangs out, my fingers clutching his face as if I were about to pull it off. "Back off!" I snapped at the others before they could put their hands on me. At the sight of my true face, they all took a step back, glancing at each other nervously.

"You set us up," I hissed at Moses, relishing the fear in his eyes. "Tell me what the hell you know before I rip out your heart."

He swallowed noisily. "I don't know anything. I swear."

My nails dug into his skin, freeing trickles of blood. The men made a move, grabbing my arms to pull me away. I struggled against them, punching and kicking wildly, until Moses shouted at us all to stop.

"Just chill the fuck out," he demanded, making a show of relaxing in his chair. "Now, what kind of evil bitch are you? Because you sure as hell don't look like a vampire."

"Except for those fucking teeth," one of his friends muttered, and they all laughed nervously.

"I'm the person who's going to kill everyone in this room if you don't start talking right now."

"I take it the meeting didn't go well," he said, lighting a joint with shaky fingers.

"No, it didn't _fucking_ go well. They sent a child to be killed by us; that's what _fucking_ happened. Where's the contact? Who is he? Who does he work for? What—"

"Hold up. I'll find him." He held my gaze. "I didn't play matchmaker to have some kid caught up in the middle of it. He's made a tit out of me, and I'll find out why."

I sat on a chair and sighed. Getting information out of anyone was a bitch.

"I didn't set you up," he clarified, leaning forward in his seat. "But don't go threatening my people, all right?"

"My friend almost killed his own son because of you," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm not in the mood for _your_ threats."

For some reason, that shattered the angry tension in the room. They all muttered together about how terrible that was, and the woman who answered the door, Moses's mother presumably, brought me a cup of tea.

"They're right scumbags," Moses said sympathetically. "That's exactly the kind of screwed up shit they get up to."

I nodded. "Yep. They kill people and take their kids to sell as slaves. They try to make parents murder their own children. They're capable of anything, and they get away with it."

"I swear to you, I'll find out what happened. But you really need to stop being seen around here. We don't want anyone thinking we're buddying up. It's dangerous for all of us if it looks like we're taking sides."

"I hear that a lot," I murmured, getting to my feet. "I should get back. Sorry for the vamp attack."

He burst out laughing. "This one's crazy. Are you a vampire?"

"Nah. I'm just a mongrel."

I left his flat and made it home without incident, and Mrs. Yaga left soon afterward. I sat in a chair by the bed and watched the kid sleep for a while. What had he been through? Peter's kid or not, I couldn't keep him with me forever. I had to figure out where he came from and find a place for him to live safely. My life was far too dangerous for a child. I wrapped a blanket around me and dozed off, my dreams full of lost children.

# Chapter Twelve

I woke up slowly, my vision blurring as I tried to make out the figure standing in front of me. I jumped, gripping the blanket tighter, and my heart wouldn't stop racing as I studied him.

A small child, he looked closer to seven than the nine- or ten-year-old I had been expecting. His dark brown hair reached his shoulders. He was pale, his skin free from the scaled glamour of the night before, with deep black bags under his eyes. He had a cut across his nose, probably from Peter's strike, and his eyes made me inhale sharply. Those eyes were the exact same hazel as Peter's, but larger, wider, and free from the anger in his father's. He was his father's child, of that I was certain, but Emmett Brannigan looked so delicate and ethereal that it was hard to believe.

He stared at me, unblinking.

I leaned forward slowly, afraid I might scare him off. "Are you okay?"

"I'm hungry."

I leaned back, startled. His answer was so normal, so ordinary, and his voice so... childlike. I grinned. "I'll make you breakfast. Come on into the kitchen."

To my surprise, he gripped my hand with his little one, and my heart threatened to stop. Blinking back my emotions, I led him into the kitchen and sat him on the counter while I picked out things he might like to eat. He recognised cereal, but not eggs. He liked the look of peanut butter, but preferred the taste of jam. And he drank a cup of milk without taking a breath, letting trickles of liquid drip down his chin.

"Want some more?"

He looked so surprised that I wanted to cry again. What had he gone through?

"Let's put on some cartoons, and you can try some food while I make some phone calls, okay?"

He didn't respond, but he followed me into the living room, his eyes growing wide with interest when I turned on the first children's channel I could find. I cranked up the volume hoping to drown out any awkward conversations I might have on the phone. He cocked his head to the side as he watched, the food forgotten, and I hurried back into the kitchen to call Carl.

I explained everything quickly, and he promised to do what I asked. Two hours later, Carl stood in the doorway with bags in his hands, seeming hesitant to enter.

"He's not contagious," I snapped.

"It's not... I know, okay? I know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do here."

"Oh, forget it." I grabbed the bag and pushed him out the door. "Go be as useless as Peter then!" I slammed the door and took heavy breaths until I calmed down.

I returned to the living room and sat next to Emmett, still holding the bag in my hands. "My friend got you some clothes. Maybe you should have a shower and brush your teeth, put on some clean clothes, and then we can talk. Is that okay?"

He nodded, and I blew out a sigh of relief that he actually knew what I was talking about. I didn't know where he had been, but if he didn't recognise eggs...

I showed him to the bathroom, turned on the shower, opened the new toothbrush Carl had bought him, laid out his new clothes, then waited in the hall.

A half-hour later, a clean, but still pale, little boy stepped out of the bathroom, swamped in clothes that were too big for him.

"Sorry," I said. "We weren't sure of the size."

He nodded. "It's fine. Thank you."

"I'll fix your collar." I moved behind him to twist the collar of the large shirt. I blinked a couple of times when I caught sight of the skin on the back of his neck. Sideways S on a circle. A tattoo. Meaning what exactly?

He turned, his big eyes gazing up at me until I felt uncomfortable.

"Are you all right?" I asked, feeling awkward and unsure.

"Yes. Who are you?"

My face heated up. Of course he had questions, too. I hadn't told him a thing, just picked him up off the street and ran away with him like a baby-snatching lunatic.

"How about I make lunch?" I asked, stalling for time. "And then we'll chat about everything. Is that okay with you?"

He nodded, and I left him in front of the television again. It was a good thing I couldn't have kids because I was crap at taking care of them. I contemplated asking Anka for help, but I wanted to keep his presence under wraps for as long as possible.

"Emmett," I called out when I had finished making some sandwiches. "Let's eat out back." I didn't know what possessed me to bring him outside, but I was glad I did when I saw the wonder on his face.

"It was dark all the time where I was before here," he said. "Are you sending me back?"

"No! No, of course not. You're never going back there."

"Good. That's good. I like this."

"It's just the sun," I said. "Daylight."

"I know. But I didn't see it very often," he said, before taking a bite of his sandwich.

"I'm Ava."

He nodded. "My name isn't Emmett," he said, and my heart sank. "They called me Unit Twenty-Four last time the numbers changed. The higher you get, the worse it is. Unit Twenty-Four."

"That's not a name," I said, and I gazed at his eyes. Peter's eyes. "Your parents called you Emmett. Your name is Emmett."

He closed his eyes and lifted his face toward the sun. "I want to be Emmett," he whispered. "Are you my mother?"

"No. I'm nobody's mother. Your mother died... when you were taken. Everyone thought you were dead, and your father... he's been looking for whoever took you ever since."

He glanced around as if excited. "Where is he?"

I sucked in a breath. "He... he's the one who hit you."

I watched with horror as he flinched. "He didn't mean to," I tried to explain. "You looked like the thing that stole you from him. He panicked. He _loves_ you."

"I can't remember him," he said after a few silent moments. "I can't remember lots of things."

"Where were you? Before here."

"Somewhere dark." He screwed up his face. "There were lots of kids. Most left when they were younger than me. I was a reject, they said. Not worth enough. But a girl took care of me there. She was a reject too. So they left me alone, mostly, except for the tests. Until now."

"Can you remember where it was? How you got there? Who took you? Anything?"

"They made us drink the water that made us forget. I didn't like the taste, but they made us. Ava," he said, as if testing out the sound. "Did you buy me? Is that why I'm here?"

"No." I began to weep. I couldn't help myself. He patted my hand awkwardly.

"You're safe now," I said when I managed to pull myself together. "They won't take you back into the darkness."

"Good. I didn't like the dark. What about the others? Are they still there?"

I swallowed hard and looked up at the sky. "I'm working on that, Emmett."

That night, I slept in the spare room and let him sleep in my bed. In the middle of the night, a scream woke me.

I ran to my room, and Emmett sprang from the bed and into my arms, wrapping his own around my neck. "Make it stop. Make it stop," he said over and over again.

"Hush, hush. I'm here. I'm here. I have you, Emmett. I have you. Everything's okay. It's okay."

I rocked him to sleep, feeling my own tears slide down my cheeks at his night terrors. He was barely aware of me, only seeing the nightmare in front of him. I wished I could make it stop, erase whatever he had seen, and make his father act like a father. He might not recognise Peter, but he needed his father.

Maybe Anka was right. Maybe every child needed their real family. Maybe that was what was so wrong with me. I didn't know how to take care of a child. I was trouble, danger, everything he didn't need. Yet when I cradled him on my lap, I felt whole.

I left a dozen messages on Peter's phone after I settled down his son. I highly doubted he was asleep after everything that had happened, but he didn't answer the phone. He didn't reply to my texts. He ignored me. He ignored his son. And I wanted to punch his face in for it.

Emmett awoke the next morning as if his nightmares had never happened. He ate breakfast in silence, and I wondered at the difference between him and Dita, a child who questioned constantly. Even when alone, she chatted to herself or her imaginary friends. She was vocal constantly, yet Emmett remained still and silent until I encouraged him to speak.

"How are you feeling?"

He stared at me blankly before turning back to his food. "Good." And after a few minutes, he asked "Can we go outside again?"

"Of course. But, Emmett, we don't want anyone to see you. Do you understand that?"

He nodded obediently, and I wondered how many other commands he had accepted without complaint.

Out in the sun, I turned to Emmett with a question I had been dying to ask. "Why did they want you? Why did they take you?"

He shrugged, suddenly looking like a normal kid. "I saw things. But not enough."

"Like what, the future?"

He smiled, and suddenly, he was beautiful. "Like the woman with you."

A breeze blew the back of my neck in answer. I craned around to try to see her, but as usual, I couldn't. "You see her? Is it Maeve? What does she want? What's Eddie doing with her?"

His face crumpled. "Her name is Maeve, but she doesn't have long with you before... oh, she's gone."

"Gone? Gone where? Where is she?"

He shook his head, looking pained. "She said the bad man was taking her, then she was sucked away. I don't like seeing things, Ava. I don't like it." He rocked to and fro, one hand yanking his hair

"Hey, it's okay, kid." I was contemplating what else I could say when a little face popped over the wall.

"Who's your friend?" Dita asked, eyeing him curiously.

"Just someone visiting me for a while," I said lightly.

Emmett glared at me. "For a while?"

"Hush," I whispered back. "Secrets, remember?"

"Can your someone play with me?"

Emmett glanced at me, and I saw the eagerness in his eyes. Play. Had he done that before? Would that help him?

"Maybe, if your mother says it's okay, you could come over for a while," I finally responded.

"Great! She hasn't any good stuff, so I'll bring some over, 'kay?" she called out cheerily to Emmett. Ten minutes later, true to her word, Dita came over with a trailer full of toys, even colours and colouring books. Real kids stuff, rather than video game hell.

"I knew you wouldn't have anything good," she told me as she sauntered through my home and toward the backyard.

"Wait, Dita. My friend's name is Emmett, but you can't tell anyone about him, okay?"

She stopped moving and stared at me solemnly.

"And he's been in a bad place, so it's your job to cheer him up. Not too many questions, and try to be nice to him if he doesn't know some of the same things that you do."

"I'll be nice to him, Ava. Don't worry," she said earnestly, and I realised that I had never seen her with a friend. Maybe it would be good for her, too.

I watched them play for a while, feeling a little proud of Emmett as he jumped straight in after about thirty seconds of careful watching. Dita didn't seem fazed by the fact he had to be told what some things were, but he had obviously seen some of them before.

After a while, afraid of him getting sunburned despite the amount of sunscreen I had plastered onto his skin, I encouraged them both to come inside for a drink, but really I wanted them to colour indoors. I was getting edgy for some reason, half-afraid someone would jump over the back wall and take Emmett back again.

Seeing him falter whenever he heard his real name only added to the ache I was already feeling.

The colouring idea went down well. Dita told us she was creating a comic book. She tried her best to influence Emmett to be her co-creator, but he had other plans. Biting his tongue, he went to work, and even Dita paused to stare at him. Under his hand, a beautifully morbid world was created. He was talented, but everything he drew held a tint of horror: dark colours, scarred faces, monstrous hands and claws creeping out from behind walls and beds. Dita gulped and glanced at me, but I wasn't quite sure what to do. When Emmett finally stopped, he seemed relieved, as though he had drawn away some of his fear.

When Dita left, still in awe of Emmett, he was finally ready to talk to me some more.

"It was always dark. There were lights, but the shadows were so dark that sometimes it felt as though someone could be hiding there, watching us, without us ever seeing them."

I shook my head. "What did the house look like?"

"It wasn't a house, not like this one. It was like this." He selected a blank page and scribbled vigorously.

"What is that, a cave?"

"I don't know. It was big, really big, and you couldn't go past the darkest shadow, or you never came back. Sometimes, after our food, we would all fall asleep, and when we woke up, things would be different."

"How so?"

He pulled a hair from his already sparse eyebrows with a ferocity that scared me. I didn't think he even realised what he was doing.

"Some kids would be gone. Or there would be new kids. Or sometimes, people were hurt."

"Hurt?"

He waved his hand over his face. "Just purple here. Or there would be a smell, and someone would cry, but nobody ever talked about what happened."

"Were you hurt?"

"I was okay, mostly. But I wasn't worth anything because what I see doesn't help anyone."

"It helped me."

He smiled. "Good. Ava, why am I here? What am I supposed to do?"

"They wanted to give you back," I said after a couple of seconds. "So you're back. But Peter—your father—thought you were dead, so he's kind of scared right now."

"Maybe he doesn't want me back," he said thoughtfully.

"That's not true, Emmett. He wants you desperately. He's been looking for the people who took you; he hasn't stopped. We're all looking. That's why it's important that you tell me anything you might remember."

"It's hard!" he shouted, making me flinch. "I don't _want_ to remember. I don't _like_ the dark."

"Emmett, look at me." I hesitantly reached for him. "I promise you I'll keep you out of the dark. But I want to help those other kids, the ones who are still there. I want to stop the ones who took you from taking anyone else."

He huddled in the corner of the sofa and stared at the floor for a while, withdrawing into himself. I sat near him, not touching, and eventually, he moved closer and leaned against me.

"The woman is back," he said softly. "She wants you to be careful. She says it's dangerous."

"Ask if she's trapped," I said, suddenly having an odd idea.

"She can hear you," he said.

"Are you? Are you trapped?" I asked loudly, turning to the cool presence to my left. "Is it Eddie? Is he keeping you here?"

"She says yes," Emmett said. "He made a mistake. He's not who he was, not since she died. And he's going to make another mistake if you don't stop him. But that's dangerous, too. He took her again. It's scary when that happens, Ava."

He shuddered, and I wrapped my arm around him. "I'm sorry," I said, but all I could think about was what Eddie was going to do next.

# Chapter Thirteen

I waited impatiently for Emmett to wake up the next morning. Maybe it was the company, maybe the fact he was Peter's son, but I couldn't help feeling fond of the kid. We had a weird connection. Me and him, me and Dita, me and most of the mixed-breeds or underdogs out there shared something.

But he wasn't mine. And I couldn't keep him.

I called Peter again, then Carl. No answer from anybody. I was in no man's land as far as Emmett was concerned. I was afraid Yvonne would show up and try to take him, but she didn't answer my call either.

Dita came over to play again. The games resulted in a little rough and tumble that somehow seemed to upset the girl. She got up, brushed herself off, and stalked away, her chin in the air.

"What was that about?" I asked Emmett.

He shrugged. "Girls aren't fun."

"I'm a girl."

He grinned, which was a huge reminder of who his father was. "It's not the same. In the dark, we were separate. Boys on one side. Girls on the other. Can I colour again?"

I nodded and followed him inside the house. He drew faces, quite human-looking faces. Although when I looked closer, I saw small details that marked them as other: tiny bumps, too sharp teeth or claws, serpent-like eyes. There were many secrets in Emmett's pictures.

"Was there anyone there who was nice to you?" I ventured when he paused to pick up a different colour.

He shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

That afternoon, Mrs. Yaga turned up with bags of shopping. "I thought you might need a few things, seeing as his father hasn't shown up yet."

"He will," I told her.

She shook her head as if she pitied me. "Food in these two bags. Little boys need a lot of food, you know. Clothes in these bags. He's less pale today. That's good."

"He's been playing with Dita a little."

Her eyes sparkled. "That will be good for both of them. I hope he isn't letting her boss him around."

I laughed. "I think he's got that covered. She walked off in a strop earlier, so he isn't shy at getting his own way either."

She handed Emmett a bag and told him to start putting things in the fridge. Gripping my arm and making my scars sting, she pulled me aside. "I've put some extra protection on the houses. I don't think anything will come here, but in case it does..."

"We'll be fine," I said. "They don't want him. They've no reason to come here."

"They want you to stop poking your nose in their business," she said. "Surely you understand this."

"What am I supposed to do? Leave the kids in what might be hell?"

"What are you saying?" But she sucked in a gasp.

"Emmett reckons he was in the dark all of the time. Nobody can tell me where the kids are being kept, and this... what are they called? Brethni, that's it. The brethni told Peter his son was in hell. I thought they were trying to get a rise out of him, but now I'm not so sure. And an old woman told me that the old gods abandoned her village, and that the gates opened, gates that set free creatures who stole special children. Tell me it doesn't add up."

"And you're the one. You're like me, Ava. We can stand on either side, but there will always be lost souls who come to us for help, regardless of what that help may be."

"You're... tainted? Like me?"

She shook her head, smiling sadly. "No, I'm not of the same heritage as you. But we face the same problems. You have to decide now if you are going to help anyone who comes along, or just those who you think are good."

"What do you mean?"

She held my gaze steadily, even though she had to look up to do it. "Not all of the children down there are human like Emmett. Some will grow up to be the things you protect others from. They have been raised to be dark, even Emmett. Do you understand?"

"You're saying the children might be evil? I could be unleashing something terrible on the world if I set them free?"

"I'm saying every evil was once defenceless. And that was the easiest time to kill it."

I backed away. "I'm not going to—"

"I'm not saying you have to. I'm saying this is the choice you make. There will be many like it. So can you handle it?"

She picked up the bags and headed into the kitchen, leaving me standing in the narrow hallway, feeling as though my heart might burst out of my chest. I caught the tail end of Mrs. Yaga's conversation with Emmett when I finally got my act together and followed her.

"So you see, she's tainted, too. Just like you. But she uses it to help people who can't help themselves. She uses it for good. What will you do?"

Emmett stared at her, a look of mild horror on his face.

"Are you scaring him?" I demanded.

"I'm making sure he knows the path he's following if he's to remain here. We don't hurt others in the cul-de-sac. That is the first rule."

"I didn't—" he started.

"Good," she interrupted. "That must remain true if you want to stay here with us. Now I must go. I'm late for dinner. Don't forget the rent is due on Monday, Ava."

She left me standing there, open-mouthed, as she let herself out. Emmett and I exchanged a glance, but something in his eyes told me he understood exactly what she meant. I had to admit that it worried me to think of what he might have learned in the dark, wherever that was.

Emmett recovered quicker than I did and went to play outside in the sun. He relished the light, but I couldn't help watching him through different eyes. Could he do bad things? Could the other children be evil? I shuddered at the thought of what I might unwittingly unleash on the world.

"Want to play cards with me?" Emmett asked when he got tired of running around out back.

"You know how to play cards?"

"Yeah, one of the guards taught us."

"What games do you know?"

Turned out, he was better than I was at poker, so he got to decide what we were having for dinner.

"All right then, card shark. What is it? Anything you like."

"Pizza."

Fifteen minutes after I ordered, a knock at the door startled me as I washed the dishes.

"I'll get it," Emmett called out from the living room.

"Wait! Emmett, no!" I threw the wash cloth back into the sudsy water in the sink and ran out after him.

He opened the door as I hit the living room, and Shay stood there for a couple of seconds, staring at Emmett. Then his eyes found mine, and I shivered at the anger there. The corners of his mouth lifted in an unpleasant sort of way, and he turned on his heel.

"Wait," I called as I chased after him. "Emmett, go inside for me, please."

I grabbed Shay at the gate. He stared at my hands as if I were on drugs or something, probably thinking I was stronger than I should have been.

"Let me explain," I said softly.

"That's him, isn't it?" he said. "All this time. What the hell?"

"It's not as bad as it looks. We found him the other night."

"Then why is he with you?" he spat, the darkness in his eyes scaring me a little.

"Because Peter thought he was dead, and now he doesn't believe it can be true."

"Right, you just find the kid all of a sudden, and now his father doesn't want him? And you don't tell the police? Bullshit."

"It's not like that!" I slammed the gate closed and pressed my palms against his chest to stop him from leaving. "The people who had him didn't like the questions we were asking, how close we were getting. Moses hooked us up with a contact so we could do someone we know a favour, okay? We turn up, and there's Emmett, just standing there, except he has a knife in his hand, and... and something's just not right about the situation. I tell Peter it's Emmett─ you see him; he's the spitting image of the man—but he can't hack it, so he runs away, and now he won't answer my calls. Nobody will talk to me and tell me what I'm supposed to do with the kid, and I don't even care because he makes me feel like a..."

I stopped and heaved a breath, shaking my head at how emotional I was becoming. "Look. There's nothing dodgy about this. He's Peter's kid, and he's back because we got close to the truth somehow. Someone's had him all this time, kept him hidden, and just let him go. I went back to Moses, and he's going to try and make some sense of it. Can you please just stop acting like a stroppy teen?"

He ran his tanned hands over his face. "This is screwed up. Do you know how many people looked for that kid? Searched for him in those first forty-eight hours in particular? How many people thought he was buried in the mountains somewhere or that his body would float up on the shore like driftwood? It's not possible that he's alive."

"Unless he was somewhere people couldn't look."

He gave me a strange look. "I'm going to see Peter. I need to hear it from him."

"Well, while you're there, please give him a smack across the head from me. That's if you find him. He's probably propping up a bar somewhere while I take care of his kid."

He grinned. "You two are like an old married couple some times."

"That doesn't give me high hopes, Shay." But I couldn't resist smiling back.

He glanced back at the house, where Emmet was staring out the window, and shivered. "Is he okay? Is he hurt, or...?"

"He seems fine, all things considered. He doesn't want to talk about it, but the pictures he draws are dark. He's healthy, a little small and pale, but nothing a few bowls of stew and a couple of games of football won't sort out." At least, I hoped so. I couldn't even take Emmett to see a doctor, just in case. I could only hope for the best.

Shay still seemed astonished. "He does look like him, but how do you know it's really him?"

"I just know. Trust me. But Peter could take a DNA test if he wanted. If that would make him feel better. I tried to contact Yvonne, Emmett's aunt, but she won't answer."

"Right. I'm going to sort this out with Peter then." He made as if to leave, but I held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't you ever work?"

"This _is_ work. Just not the paid kind." He obviously saw the sceptical look in my eyes because he explained. "There are a lot of things I regret. Giving up on that kid was one of them. The whole situation ate at me for years. It was so fresh in my head that I knew exactly who you were talking about when you turned up at the station that day." He shook his head.

"There was nothing you could have done, trust me."

"I could have kept looking," he said bitterly. "I knew in my gut that it wasn't right, and nobody can stay hidden forever. There's something really messed up going on in this country, and if you won't tell me what you know, then I'll have to find out for myself."

"Don't," I said. "Stay away from the crazies. It's safer that way."

"You worried about me, Ava?"

I snorted. "Yeah, right. I have enough to worry about."

But as he walked away, I had to wonder if keeping him in the dark was the right thing to do. What if he did a Carl and ran headfirst into disaster? But did I really want to drag another innocent person into my world? I would let Shay deal with Peter and figure it out later, but from what I had been hearing, having friends in all sorts of places might have been the best plan out there.

Emmett was a little scared after Shay's mildly dramatic exit, but he soon calmed down, and by the time he had eaten more pizza than I did, he was acting like a normal, hyper, little boy. He whimpered a couple of times in his sleep that night, but there were no screams and no night terrors. It was as if he had already forgotten his past. I just wished everything else could be so easy. I didn't doubt that Shay would knock some sense into Peter. After all, Peter seemed in total awe of the older man, but his reaction to his son the next time he saw him could change everything. I really hoped he wouldn't fuck it up.

# Chapter Fourteen

The following morning, I realised I hadn't heard from Esther at all since she'd left the possible witness to head for the twins. It wasn't like her not to check in regularly, and she should have made it to the twins already.

My brands stung more than usual, which was probably why the twins' situation was high on my priority list, and I chanced ringing Gabe about it.

"She hasn't made contact with us yet," he admitted. "None of the Guardians who were sent over there have called us." He didn't bother trying to disguise the worry in his voice.

"What's going on?" My stomach churned with anxiety. What if they were all dead?

"We don't know. Aiden's threatening to fly over there, but so far, he's been kept on a leash. How do you feel about flying again?"

"Fuck you," I said, panicking. "I can't leave right now."

"Oh," he said softly. "Does that have something to do with a new house guest?"

"No." I hung up immediately. Holy crap, did the entire world know Emmett was with me?

I moped about all morning, barely paying attention when Emmett and Dita played together out back, their little tiff forgotten.

"Are you okay?" Emmett asked as they surrounded me with childlike concern.

"I'm fine."

"You shouldn't lie," Dita reprimanded, folding her arms.

"Leave her alone." Emmett's forehead creased into a frown. To my surprise, Dita fell silent instead of arguing with him.

"I'm okay," I insisted. "I'm just a little worried about a friend of mine. She's missing, and nobody's heard from her. But don't worry, she'll be fine. You two go and have some fun."

Dita ran off, Emmett following her slowly, but he seemed distracted, letting Dita win every race. I watched them without seeing, too busy thinking of a million and one reasons why there might be radio silence from the Guardians.

A while later, a solemn Emmett came back over to me. "I might be able to help your friend," he said in a quiet voice, somehow sounding more mature.

"How?"

"The woman that visits you. Maeve. She comes here a lot, just not for long. But she can move to different places; she can probably even talk to others like her." He shrugged. "I didn't see them that often before. That's why I was worthless in the dark. I was going to work there when I got bigger. As a guard."

"They make the kids work there if they don't get sold?"

He nodded. "I don't think the things I see can go to the dark. But sometimes I saw them in the light, when they brought me up to test me and stuff like that."

"Test you?"

He shook his head, frowning. "I don't want to talk about it."

I hesitated, wary of pushing him too hard. "What is Maeve anyway? A ghost, a spirit, what?"

"She's like a ghost. She's dead, but she's not spooky. Someone has her trapped here, so she can't move on. He makes her do things, and he pulls her back when she does something he doesn't want her to do. She can move around and see things we can't, but she's not... not free."

I sighed heavily. "I don't know if she can help me, but maybe you could ask her next time you see her." I smiled weakly.

He puffed out his chest. "I will. I'll make sure she helps us. I can do that, too."

"Do what?" I asked.

"Make them do things. Dita told me it's more polite to ask nicely, though."

I stared at him, but he was all innocence and light. He had more use than the market owners thought.

"Dita's right," I said. "And maybe we should keep this to ourselves."

"Another secret?"

"Yeah."

"That's okay. That's what she taught me, too."

"Who? Dita?"

He shook his head. "The teacher. I don't want to talk about it." He fidgeted nervously until I patted his shoulder and told him to go play. He drew instead, and again, the drawings were dark and bloody, except a singular face shone through in each picture.

Peter came that evening with Carl. Both of them stood on my doorstep, looking like bold little boys about to get into trouble. I crossed my arms and stared at them, waiting for something. I wasn't quite sure what.

"I want to see him," Peter said.

"Why?"

He looked startled. "Because he's my son."

"I told you that the other night. You punched him."

His cheeks turned red. "I'm not... I didn't know what to do. How was I supposed to believe he was Emmett?"

"Are we going to be getting into some kind of paternity testing situation here? To prove he's your son?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Ava, you sound like... he's not _your_ child!"

"Leave her alone!" Emmett ran past me and pushed at his father, but when Peter took a step toward him, hands out to embrace him, Emmett hid behind me, trembling.

Peter flinched visibly, a weird mixture of horror and longing in his eyes. He kept his focus on Emmett, shutting out the rest of us, and a lump in my throat made it harder for me to control the situation.

"Let's everyone calm down," Carl said nervously. "Hey, Emmett. I'm Carl. Can your dad and me come in and have a little chat?"

Emmett's breathing grew noisy, but I leaned my arm on his shoulders. "Don't worry. If they upset you, I'll kick them out, okay?"

He nodded and disappeared into the living room.

"You even think about raising your voice in front of him again, and I'll karate chop your face," I hissed at Peter.

Peter laughed, but he sounded mildly hysterical. I couldn't help acting like an over-protective mother hen because, as far as I could see, Peter had rejected the kid at the one time his son needed him most. The big eejit.

"I brought some things," Peter said when we all moved into the living room to join Emmett. "Just some stuff I kept. From... from before."

Carl shrugged at me, and I could see he was thinking the same thing I was. We had never seen Peter so uncertain.

Peter shrugged off his jacket, and then rummaged through the bags he had brought. He paused to stare at Emmett for a couple of seconds before clearing his throat. "This was your favourite thing when you were a baby," he said, his voice cracking. He handed Emmett a small fluffy teddy bear, the kind of soft stuffed animal that was perfect for snuggling. Emmett glanced at me, and I nodded, hopefully reassuringly. Maybe everything was going to be okay.

Emmett took the bear hesitantly, ran his long, slim fingers across the fur, and surprisingly, sniffed it. "I like how it smells. It smells like... something." Then he shook himself and laid the bear next to him. "Are you really my father?" he asked Peter earnestly, staring into Peter's face as if searching for something.

Peter kept his eyes on Emmett and nodded. Swallowing hard, he took out his wallet and showed Emmett the picture he carried around. A baby picture of Emmett.

"It looks a little like me," Emmett said, but he sounded uncertain.

"I can tell he's your dad," I said. "Your blood smells the same."

Emmett rapidly glanced from one face to another, suddenly scared, if his increasing heart rate was anything to go by.

"Don't worry," I said hurriedly. "It's just a gift I have."

"You hit me," he said sternly, his soulful eyes never wavering from Peter as he waited for an answer.

"He thought you were something else," Carl said softly, coaxingly. He would make a good dad, I thought.

"He hit me the first time he met me, too," I said. "But Carl kicked his ass for me."

Emmett stared at Carl, his eyes going from the walking stick and back to his father. Then he laughed, for the first time, a real laugh, and all of the tension leaked out of the room.

Everything went easier after that. So easy, I was left with a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach that warned things would eventually come to a head. But not that day.

Peter and Emmett chatted, although Emmett seemed more secure with others around him. Emmett even asked to see a photo of his mother, and Peter promised to show him as many as possible. I had to sneakily wipe a tear then. He would never know his mother, and I knew how that felt.

Carl left soon afterward, and I escorted him to the door to thank him.

"Sorry for snapping before," I said.

"Meh. I'm used to you."

I pretended to punch his arm. "Yeah, well, thanks for dragging him over."

"Actually, he asked me to come with him. He's terrified. I never thought I would see Peter so scared. All over that little squirt."

I really did punch him that time.

"Wow," he said, rubbing his arm. "In love already, are we?"

He laughed as I pretty much shoved him out the door, but I gripped his arm at the last moment. "Did you hear about Esther?"

"No, what?"

"Nobody's heard from her. From anyone who went to England. I'm scared for her."

"Shit," he murmured. "What do you think is happening?"

"Maybe they just have no way to contact us, or maybe they're already on their way back home. I just don't know."

"Try to stay optimistic," he said.

"Maybe I should go over there."

"Why? We don't even know if anything is wrong. Wait and see what the Council does about it."

I went back inside and listened to Peter attempt to make friends with his son. I almost dozed off until I heard Peter ask, "So how about coming home tonight?"

"No!" Emmett and I yelled at the same time.

Peter looked confused. "It's his home."

"Yeah," I said, "and it's the first place anyone will look if they want him back."

Peter stared at me and, probably seeing the fear in my eyes, nodded. "Okay, but how about I hang out here then? Just in case."

"It's up to him," I said, still annoyed at Peter.

But Emmett had a new look in his eyes, something he didn't hold for anyone but Peter. Maybe he wanted to know where he came from. The importance of family reared its ugly head again, but I ignored it because I didn't want Emmett to go.

"He's safe here," I added. "Mrs. Yaga keeps us safe here."

That night, I put Emmett to sleep in my bed, and after I got Peter up to speed with what had been happening with Emmett and Esther, I told him he could have the single bed in the spare room.

"What about you?" he asked.

"He has nightmares," I said. "He needs someone with him."

"Well, I'll stay with him then. He's my son."

I made a scoffing sound.

"Ava, stop," he protested, blocking my way as I tried to get away from him. "You don't understand."

"What do I not understand? You wanted this child so badly that you risked your life to find who took him, then he's dropped into your lap like a gift, and you run away. What am I supposed to think of you?"

"You don't get it." His shoulders slumped, and I stopped trying to escape. "You don't understand what it's like. I gave up on him, Ava. I gave up. I thought he was dead. I was looking for vengeance, not a rescue. I have a baby. In my head, my son is a baby, not a nine-year-old boy. It's his tenth birthday soon. Tenth. But I still see the baby I lost. I can't make any fucking sense of it."

"Deal with it," I hissed. "You don't have time to lose your damn head over it."

"It's not just that. It's the guilt. I'm supposed to hate what took him, and then I'm hanging around with you, getting all—"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Since when did I become what took him? I didn't do anything to deserve—"

"That's not what I'm saying! It's just you've distracted me, and I've gone off the path. And you're one of them, Ava. Whether you like it or not, you're not like me."

"You don't seem to care when you're—"

"Just stop it. I should have known you wouldn't understand."

"Oh, fuck off, Peter." I stormed into the spare room and huddled on the bed under the blanket. How dare he compare me to those things? How dare he say I distracted him from finding his son? Guilt, indeed. Where was the guilt from denying his child and leaving him with me?

I fumed in the darkness for hours, my temper becoming an almost physical thing. My body was so tight and tense that I grew sure moving would break a limb, make it snap in half the way I wanted to break Peter's limbs for the things he had said. I was done with him.

But he crawled into the bed later on, wrapping himself around me, his hand resting on my stomach. "I'm sorry. It came out all wrong."

"No, it didn't. And it's stupid anyway. You should be upset that you punched him, that you made him feel rejected. Instead, you had to focus all on your stupid self."

"Stop," he said, his breath warming the back of my neck. "I'll take him somewhere safe and get him out of your hair tomorrow."

I stood abruptly, shaking off his caresses. "He can't be alone while he sleeps," I said as I left the room. I thought he would see how upset I was and leave me alone, but he didn't. He followed me into the bedroom. I sat by the bed, and Peter knelt at my feet as I watched Emmett breathe.

"He's not yours," he said softly, his palms on my thighs.

"Thanks for the reminder."

"No, I didn't mean... I'm sorry, okay? For everything. The way I've been, the way I've been handling it all. At first, I thought you were angry because you were stuck with him."

"Well, then you're an idiot. If you had stuck around, you would have seen how great he is. I don't want him to go because I don't think you know how to look after a kid."

"And you do?" There was laughter in his voice.

"Just shut up. You'll wake him."

He laid his hand on my stomach. "You think you want to have your own some day?"

I shoved him away. "I can't. I wasn't made that way. I'm not like you, remember?" The lump in my throat made it hard for me to speak, but I refused to cry. Being around Emmett seemed to have opened some kind of weepy dam, and the sooner I got back to my old self, the better.

"Ava, I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter. I would hardly bring a kid into this even if I had a choice."

He put one arm under my knees, and the other behind my back, lifting me.

"What are you doing, you lunatic?"

He laughed softly. "Getting comfortable."

He sat on the chair, with me on his lap, and wrapped the blanket around us. I leaned against him because I desperately needed the comfort. I needed lots of things, but comfort was what he was offering.

He kissed the top of my head, and we dozed off together. Me, Peter, and Emmett. All together.

# Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, I forgot my worries for two whole hours. The three of us had breakfast together, both Brannigans flashed genuine smiles, and everything felt easy. I was comfortable and happy, and I knew it couldn't last. I was simply ignoring what was really going on.

I had woken to another branding, a ring around each elbow, and I knew I had to hurry, but I wanted to savour that feeling I had when the Brannigans and I had breakfast together. Family was something I craved, and I had gotten a taste of it for myself.

But Esther was AWOL, and according to the branding, she wasn't busy freeing the twins from slavery. Shit was about to hit the fan, and I was busy playing happy family.

Peter was a different person around Emmett, and I was reluctant to bring him back to the real world. He even climbed the wall to lift Dita over to play, and I saw a different side to him, a way for him to heal, a way for him to be the man he was always supposed to be. And if there was hope for him, there was hope for me, too. Maybe someday, we could all find a normal life.

Anka stood on a box to look over the wall at Peter and the kids playing together.

"That's his father?" she asked me.

"Yeah. They're getting acquainted again."

She nodded. "That's good. He needs a real parent."

My face fell, and she apologised profusely. "It sounded... I meant... I mean, I've told you how I feel about children having their fathers around. You see the happiness on the boy's face right now? It's like that with Dita when her dad spends time with her. Her little face lights up. It's beautiful to see, and I just can't bring myself to take it away from her."

"I did okay without my parents."

"Did you? I thought you had a story, too."

I made a face. "I'm okay now, though."

"Didn't you ever wish for them? Don't you want to know your heritage?"

"I've learned enough of my heritage to last me a lifetime." I pressed my palm against the wall, digging my fingertips into the grooves. "There wasn't a point wishing for them. They couldn't come."

"Maybe you should find out more. For closure. Dita told me she doesn't want to see her father anymore, not until he gives up drinking. I told her he's sick, that giving it up isn't an option for him right now, and she said she's willing to wait. But she wanted to know everything about him. And about me. She keeps asking questions about where we came from, and I'm not sure what to tell her. She's such a bright little girl. She would know if I lie, but sometimes the truth is dangerous."

"So tell her. She has a right to hear the truth. Trust me. It's easier in the long run."

She nodded, looking thoughtful. "Maybe I will. She's been asking me about Emmett, too, but I've warned her word about him can't reach anyone else's ears. Don't worry."

I stared at her, realising she meant it. "Word's already out. But thanks."

"Life will work out the way it's supposed to," she said, and that kept me thinking.

As I made lunch a while later, Emmett snuck up beside me and touched my arm. I flinched, moaning at the sudden pain.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his face creasing into a worried expression.

"It's nothing," I said, but he tried to roll up my sleeve anyway.

"What happened to you?"

He sounded horrified, so I tried to play it down. "I owe someone a favour. This is just a reminder."

"I'm sorry." His eyes filled with sudden tears.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, almost amused.

"I came to tell you about Maeve. She found your friend. She's hurt. Trapped. She's trying to find out more."

My stomach turned violently. "Emmett, as soon as you learn anything, tell me straight away. I need to tell people. To help her."

"I will, but it's hard for her. He always calls her back."

"Maybe I can help with that," I murmured. Eddie obviously needed to concentrate to use his power. It was a conscious, purposeful act. If I could persuade Carl to distract him, maybe it would give Maeve enough time to find Esther, if that was even possible.

I called Carl and quickly explained the situation.

"You sure about this?" he asked.

"Not completely, but it's worth a good effort. Please, Carl. For Esther."

"I wasn't going to say no," he said impatiently. "Tell the... person to hurry. He's not stupid."

I could only wait and see what happened next. I couldn't see Maeve or Esther, couldn't control their fates. While I waited, I tried to explain to Peter that his son had certain gifts, but he didn't seem to understand.

"How? How can that be possible?"

"Maybe it's something in his bloodline," I ventured. "Don't take this wrong, but Daimhín once told me that Yvonne's blood didn't appeal to her. And yours doesn't exactly get my juices going either. She also said that humans used to be bred for taste, or something like that. Maybe others had some kind of a protection in their blood."

"How so?"

My voice rose in excitement. "What if there's something that makes humans less, um, tasty? As in, something special. Or at least, the possibility of something special. And the ones who don't have it are more appealing."

"What do you mean, something special?"

"You remember the story Shay's nan told us about the gods and special water and protection? I asked Eddie about it. He didn't seem surprised. Maybe Emmett's bloodline is special, too. Maybe it's some ancient form of protection. Maybe because it's on both sides, it's stronger in Emmett."

Peter looked absolutely disgusted. "I'm really uncomfortable with this conversation." He turned to gaze at me after a couple of seconds. "So, what? You don't like my blood?"

"All of what I said, and this is what you take from it? It's good, I swear, but I've never been crazy thirsty for it or anything. Not like with Carl."

He glared at me, and I knew I had handled it badly. "Look. Can we get back to what's important? For whatever reason, your son has abilities that most people don't. And somehow, whoever took him knew that was a possibility. They took him just in case he did something good. Which he does, by the way, they just didn't realise it. Or he hid it. I think someone down there helped him hide it."

"Down there?"

"Hell. Well, assuming it's hell. It makes sense to me now. Maybe the brethni were telling the truth."

"Brethni?" He sounded completely confused, and I felt a pang of guilt at keeping him out of the loop so much.

"Moses told me those things in the warehouse are called brethni. I'm not sure what that means, but he seemed to think they were good people."

"The drug dealer thinks they're good people?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "This is getting twisted, Ava. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to think."

"Just listen then. Remember I told you that I thought Eddie was using power from trapped souls? Turns out, I was pretty much right. Maeve has been following me around since the first time I met Eddie, but in a good way. She's warned me of danger lots of times. I think she kind of likes me. Anyway, Emmett can see her and talk to her, and he said she's able to find out what's happened to Esther, but Eddie keeps pulling her away. So Carl is currently distracting him."

"Eddie won't like that."

"So he sacks Carl. Win-win."

He grinned. "You have an evil streak running through you, Delaney."

"Let's hope you're wrong. I'm still not to the point. There's something else Emmett can do. I can't tell if it's the same as what Eddie's doing, but he can kind of make the things he sees obey him somehow. He seems to realise it isn't something he should take advantage of, but it's also the sort of thing that would make him attractive to the kind of people who buy children at the slave market."

He nodded, finally letting it all sink in properly. "So we need to protect him."

"For as long as it takes. And that might mean no revenge for you."

His gaze caught mine. "That's not an option."

"Keeping Emmett safe is the _only_ option."

He exhaled harshly, stretching forward as though he had been running. "Shay's been asking questions."

I flinched at the sudden shift in subject. "So?"

"So he's the one who convinced me to come and see Emmett. But how did he know Emmett was here?"

"Emmett answered the door, thinking it was pizza. He knows not to do it again."

"No, I mean, why was Shay here at all?"

I shrugged. "He's kind of nosy. He wants to know what's really going on. I'm starting to think we should tell him. He has eyes and ears in places we can't go, and he might be able to find out who owns the Gardaí."

"You think someone owns them?"

"Definitely. Things I've heard make me feel that the Gardaí are connected with the Council."

"How so?"

I rubbed my cheeks. Where to start? "Well, for one, there are drug dealers working for other beings. That dealer, Moses, told me that Illeana was checking up on him, that he gets left alone as long as he stays in line. He made it sound like she was doing it on behalf of whoever he works for."

"Can't you get him to talk?"

I shook my head. "He's too scared of them. I mean, he probably doesn't even know who's on top of the chain, and Illeana could have been lying to him. Plus, people like him are kind of in a cushy position right now, and they get away with murder with the police. Why? Because the police are already owned. Shay was moved to a different station to get him away from your case, Peter. I'm pretty certain about this."

He stared at me for a few minutes. "Everything's connected," he whispered.

"True enough. We just need to find the root of it all. Kill the root, and all of the branches will die."

"I'm up for that."

I didn't tell him all of my suspicions, about how much of our lives I suspected had been interfered with. He wasn't ready for that, and I wasn't ready to deal with his rage when he did find out. I would keep that secret for as long as I could.

Maeve didn't take long. I didn't know how she got around in the spirit world, but apparently, they had shortcuts. I had considered using the other planes of existence to try and move further around myself, but I wasn't keen on getting stuck again. In fact, I had grown afraid of pushing too far.

Emmett's expression was solemn as he relayed Maeve's message. "She said the girl is hidden with two others, but they're surrounded by people trying to hurt them. The people can't break the barrier, but she said they will find a way eventually."

"Who are the others? Other Guardians?"

"A brother and sister. They're not Irish, she said."

"Holy sh... sugar. Lorcan and Lucia? They must be hiding in their place. Wait. They're surrounded? Why? What's happening?"

He blinked fast. "War."

Peter tried to stop me from leaving. "I'll get Carl to come over. I'll come with you."

"No. Keep Emmett safe. You said it before. They know my weakness. Everyone does. He's at risk because someone's trying to shut you up. I'm going to get Carl to bring Nancy here. You all have to stay here. Do you understand? I can't go out there worrying about you lot as well."

"Nancy?"

"I'm not going to let my grandmother die because of me. No matter what our issues are, she's still family, and I won't let them take her. Something terrible is coming, Peter. This is the only place you'll all be safe. Mrs. Yaga made sure of that. I can't concentrate on what I have to do unless I know you are all here."

"We'll stay here," he said reluctantly.

I hugged Emmett before leaving, hoping I was right and that he was safe. I made phone calls on the way, tried to cover all of the bases, and headed to an emergency meeting I arranged with the Council.

They weren't going to be happy.

# Chapter Sixteen

Erossi didn't show up. Neither did the witch. I thought that significant. Eddie was there, and I avoided eye contact with him as much as possible. Carl had left the shop in Eddie's absence, and Eddie was probably not going to be overjoyed by that.

It was late evening by the time everything got settled and whoever was going to turn up arrived. We met in a white-walled room and sat around a circular table, many pairs of suspicious eyes on me.

I sat forward. "I have news about Esther."

Aiden began to say something, but Gabe stopped him. "What news?"

"She's alive, but she's hurt. Trapped. She's stuck with the people who hosted me when I was in Liverpool."

"They've kidnapped her?" the demon asked. Elathan, I remembered.

"No. They're slaves. The vampires own them. But they're part-fae, and they're good people." I ignored Fionnuala's telling glare when I said _part-fae_. "They have a place that's protected, kind of like the magic over the trial."

"Impossible," Fionnuala said.

Koda, looking dreadful, silenced her. "Now is not the time."

"Anyway," I continued, feeling a little nervous. "The place is protecting them, shielding them, but they're surrounded. I've heard there's a war going on, and that getting her back in one piece is practically impossible."

"How do you know?" Aiden asked.

I felt Eddie's curious gaze on my skin. "I... I can't say."

"And we're supposed to believe you?" Aiden sounded incredulous, and I didn't exactly blame him, but I couldn't reveal what Emmett could do.

"This is ridiculous," Fionnuala said.

"Oh, give it a rest." I was frustrated and annoyed. I couldn't think of a way to help Esther, but they probably could, if they would just believe me. "Why would I make this up? I got a tip, okay? I'm not telling you anything else about it. But Esther needs help, and you should all probably face up to the fact that the BVA are about to roll over the UK. If they win, they're coming here next. You can bet your arse on it."

"She's right." A shiver ran down my spine at Daimhín's words. It was bad enough having a creepy demon and a creepy ancient vampire in the room without my creepy ancient vampire boss showing up as well.

"I thought you were out hibernating, or something," I blurted in my nervousness.

She narrowed her eyes at me. She was accompanied by Yvonne, her day assistant and Emmett's aunt. Zion, her rather large and impressive bodyguard, stood behind her. Eloise, the child vampire who also happened to be a seer, and Jules, my least favourite vampire ever who had a major yen for my blood, stayed by the door.

"Eloise had a vision," Daimhín announced. "And plenty of confirmation has come through. There is indeed a war going on, and we have little hope of surviving it if we don't act now."

There was a lot of discussion after that, most of it pointless arguing.

"I don't trust her," Aiden said.

Gabe stared at me for long, awkward moments before finally declaring himself on my side. I let loose a sigh of relief and waited patiently for the arguing to stop. Gabe rarely failed to get his own way.

"I need to return to my coven," Daimhín eventually declared. "I will take the tainted one with me."

"I'll take her home," Eddie said softly.

"Why would you do that? She's my employee. Come along." Daimhín clicked her fingers, and I and her entourage followed her like trained puppies. What my life had come to...

In the car, Daimhín gave me one of _those_ looks. "Is it true? You found the boy alive?"

"What boy? Emmett?" Yvonne asked. Daimhín knew and hadn't told her. Ouch.

"Yeah, it's true. Someone put him in our path, trying to cause more problems, but it worked out."

"They'll try to take him if he's alive. They would rather him dead than allow another to have him."

"Who _are_ they?" I asked.

"Whoever took him. It's what I would do."

Her words chilled me to the bone, but I had to think straight. "What about Esther? Any suggestions?"

"Leave her there. It might teach the shifters some humility. As for the British vampires, it may come to us having to leave the country rather than get involved."

"Why would you leave?"

"The Council will expect our assistance. Winston will give us the chance to stand next to him. Both would result in our final deaths. We will leave if he tries to take Ireland. You may join us."

"Thanks, but I still need to find a way to—"

"The darkness rises," Eloise said. "She's hiding in darkness. One pocket is always connected to another, and the key to the door is tainted by blood. The only way to reach her is through the darkness. The smallest mice can make it through the shadows unseen."

"What do you mean? Can I get to her somehow?"

"Eloise, what have I told you?" Daimhín chastised.

"He's alive. And nobody told me?"

Yvonne's delayed reaction grated on my nerves. "Well, if you would answer your goddamn phone every once in a while, you might have known already."

"The paths between the hiding holes can only be crossed when the gates are opened. All manner of things can cross," Eloise whispered.

"Is he okay? I mean, did they hurt him?" Yvonne asked.

"That's enough, Eloise!" Daimhín exclaimed.

The noise was too much. And all through it, Jules kept his scarlet eyes trained on me, and I knew he was drinking my blood in his mind.

"Everyone, just shut up!" I shouted, creeped out beyond measure.

Daimhín squeezed her lips together and smoothed down her short, grey hair. The others didn't make a sound.

Knowing I was on very sketchy ground, I carried on in a hurry. "Thank you! Now for the last time, Emmett is alive and well. He's safe. But he won't be if the ones in charge of the market keep trying to shut us up. I just don't think it's a coincidence that war comes as soon as Esther's in the path of it. And everything is connected together, so I need a bloody minute to think. Eloise, you're talking about places like where the twins are hiding, right?"

She nodded with a scary smile as her curls danced with the motion.

"So I need to find another one, open a gate, and make a pathway somehow?"

"Some things are simple," she sang. "But most are not."

"This is _my_ car," Daimhín reminded me. "I am a queen. I am your boss. I am an ancient. I will not be told to shut up by a tainted nephal."

"Sorry," I said begrudgingly. My phone rang, and I ignored Daimhín's terrifying expression to answer it. It was Carl.

"Nancy won't come with me, Ava," he said. "She reckons she doesn't know me. She keeps getting upset and crying. I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do."

"It's fine. I'll have to get her."

I hung up and asked Daimhín to let me out. She made the driver stop the car and set me free shockingly quickly. I knew I would be in for it later with her and Yvonne. And probably the entire Council, too. I was on extremely thin ice.

I ran to my grandmother's house, sick at the thought of not only facing her, but spending time with her in my own home. My place was going to get pretty crowded while I figured out what the hell I was supposed to do. Too much was going on, and I didn't think I could deal with everything properly with her as a distraction. I opened her front door with the spare key she insisted on hiding under a stone turtle in her garden, again struck by the idea she had ever managed to keep me hidden.

"Nancy!" I called out. "What are you playing at? We have to leave right now. It's not safe here any—"

I stopped short, surprised to see her on her knees in the living room.

"Nancy?" I asked, puzzled.

She turned around, a frown drawing her eyebrows together. "Oh. Ava. I didn't expect you."

"Yeah," I said hesitantly, unsure of what her game was. "Why didn't you go with Carl?"

"Go where?" she asked, getting to her feet slowly.

"Uh... to safety? To my place?"

"That tiny flat? No, thanks."

I pursed my lips. Was she being purposely stupid? "I moved. Remember?"

She nodded, the colour leaving her face. "Of course you did. Why am I to leave?"

"Because it isn't safe here anymore," I said impatiently. "I'm in the middle of something sort of awkward. You can't stay here while it's going on. Just in case."

"You don't want me to stay with you," she said in a low voice.

"No, I don't, but I don't want you to die either, so get your stuff, and we'll leave."

"I'll stay," she said. "Take my chances. He... one of the neighbours takes care of me, makes sure I'm okay."

"That's fantastic. Can he protect you from demons?" I snapped.

"The angel will save me," she said in a distant voice, staring at a sacred heart picture on the wall behind her favourite armchair.

I rolled my eyes. "I doubt that. Look, I don't have time for this. I'll give you money to stay in a hotel. Go away for a week or something. I can't be thinking about you, too. I'll come get you when it's over. I promise."

She gathered her arms around herself, trembling a little. "It's so cold in here lately. Why do I have to go?"

"Because it's... are you okay?"

She nodded, but her body was swaying back and forth. I didn't have time to deal with that.

"Get some things while I ring around and find you a hotel."

She turned out to be way pickier than I expected, but eventually, I was able to pay a hotel a week in advance, and I ordered a taxi to take us there. It was a busy hotel in the middle of the city, but I figured having so many people around would keep her safer than sitting in her house, the first place anyone would look.

I rang Gabe again, requesting some kind of protection for Nancy. He agreed to send a Guardian over to keep an eye on her.

"This is a one time offer," he said. "And I better get some answers from you soon."

I couldn't shake the idea that he could be the person I had been looking for all along.

# Chapter Eighteen

When I returned to my house, Carl was amusing Emmett with a list of supposedly funny, but truly gross jokes. Peter had a strange look in his eyes, his shoulders hunched, and I wondered what had happened.

"I need help," I said as soon as they noticed me watching. "Everything's screwed up again. Nancy refused to come here, so I persuaded her to stay in a hotel, and Gabe managed to get a Guardian to act as a temporary bodyguard, but of course, that will probably end up in me owing him another favour. In other news, the Council won't believe me about Esther, and Eloise keeps giving me hints about opening gates and pockets and all kinds of weird crap. Somebody needs to tell me what to do before my head explodes."

"You tell us. You're the one with all the answers, right?" Peter said.

I narrowed my eyes, but he didn't elaborate. Ignoring him, I turned to his son, wishing I had thought to make the boy leave the room before I started blurting out everything in my head. "Emmett, any more updates from Maeve?"

"She hasn't come back," he said. "I think she's trapped, too."

"Carl? Any idea of how to make sense of Eloise's words?" I asked after I properly explained what had been happening.

"Do you know of anywhere like that house in Liverpool?" he asked. "Because that would be the first step unless you know how to open portals at will. I'm not exactly sure what you're supposed to do with Eloise's info."

I thought about it. "I've felt the same vibe from Lorcan and Lucia's home elsewhere. Twice, actually. Once at the trial, which we can rule out because Fionnuala would never even try to help us, and once while I was working for Daimhín. I picked up some money at a house, and it was covered by that shroud thing. I remember it so clearly because it completely blocked me, and that doesn't happen very often. It felt almost exactly the same as the one in Liverpool, probably a closer match than even Fionnuala could do."

"Then maybe that's where you need to go," Carl said. "But even if it is the same, we still need to figure out what to do next."

"I'm just going to trust that Eloise gave a hint for a reason, and that there is a way of doing this. I'm not going to sit around waiting for the Council to act while Esther's in trouble. And if there is a shroud over the goblin's place, then someone knows how it got there, and maybe they know how to make a path from one to another. Or whatever the hell it is I'm supposed to be doing. Maybe it's even the same person who created the other one."

"Ava." Emmett wrapped his arms around my waist, and I held on tight. The kid managed to give me second thoughts, but I couldn't sit down and wait.

"Remember what Mrs. Yaga told you," I told Emmett. "About what I do. This is one of those times."

"Maeve said it's dangerous."

"Yup. Maybe I'll tell you about all of the way more dangerous stuff I did before you came along." I winked and ruffled his long hair. "But right now, I've a few promises to keep."

"You going alone?" Peter asked gruffly.

"Best if it goes that way," I said, wondering why he looked so annoyed. "Emmett, you be good while I'm gone, okay? If I'm not back tomorrow, ask Dita to come play."

"Emmett," Carl said. "Why don't you go back to bed?"

Emmett glanced at me, but I nodded, realising how late it was.

"When should we worry?" Carl asked when Emmett had left the room.

"Now," I joked, but nobody laughed. "Okay, I don't get what the weird tension in here is all about, but it's making me uncomfortable in my own house."

Nobody said a word.

I sighed impatiently. "Fine. I'm going. Carl, take care of Emmett for me."

"He's _my_ son," Peter growled.

"Your priorities haven't exactly been the right way around lately, and I can trust Carl," I said. "That kid is number one. Do you understand that yet? He doesn't leave this cul-de-sac. Not until all of this is over. He's safe here. Out there... not so much. Something's been watching us, and people already know he's here with me. But whatever's watching can't get to us here."

"Is Mrs. Yaga that strong?" Carl asked.

"Strong enough to defend her own territory. Look, I need to go. We don't have a lot of time."

Carl gripped my arm, and I winced. With a stern look, he pulled up my sleeve and examined the brands. Peter made a few sounds of surprise, but I couldn't concentrate while Carl poked at the tender scars.

I finally pulled away, frustrated by the concern in his eyes. "Like I said. Not a lot of time." I left without looking back, but something crept after me, a horribly twisted premonition of impending disaster.

I headed straight for Folsom's home. Whenever I had picked up the goblin's debt repayments for Daimhín, there had been something odd about his setup, and he had frequently acted suspicious, but there was more, that blackness, something that completely shrouded the place against my own senses. It felt like the pocket the twins lived in. It was time I found out exactly what it was.

By the time I reached his garage, I was terrified. No lights. Not anywhere. The cottage and garage were both shrouded in darkness, and even on the street, there was little light. The moon seemed to disappear behind clouds right when I needed it to guide my way.

Trying and failing to build up my courage, I decided to break into Folsom's garage. I couldn't sense any life in his cottage other than him, and no other heartbeats were within my range, so whatever he was hiding was probably in his garage. Maybe.

A single padlock held the garage door closed. It seemed ridiculously easy to break the lock. In fact, I was pretty sure the lock had been purely for show. So what was really guarding the place?

I slipped inside, determined to keep going until I found something worth taking to the Council. I couldn't fight an entire country of vampires, but maybe they could. Or at least, they could use my information to find a way to free Esther.

Dark shadows covered every inch of the garage. I moved slowly, afraid of knocking things over, but the path was clear, too clear for a working garage. Feeling braver, I switched on a light, and the shadows were erased with one swoop. The place was clean and tidy, which set me on alert. I had often heard noises from the garage, but only one car was propped up on a ramp, apparently ready to be examined for repair.

I tried to use my other sense, but the way was still blocked, and that gave me the push I needed to keep going. But to where? There was nothing in the room except for carefully placed tools and one big car. I wandered over to the car and spotted a lot of dust all over the car.

"What am I doing?" I muttered, then jumped at a rumbling vibration under my feet. Hearing footsteps from under the garage, I hesitated. Gathering my senses, I ran back to switch off the lights, then hid in a suspiciously empty cupboard because I didn't know what the hell else to do. But nothing happened. Nobody came into the garage, nobody left it, and the footsteps died away completely.

Frustrated, I switched the lights back on and crawled around on the floor, trying to figure out if there was a way to get down. I got to my feet when I spotted a half-full bottle of water on a shelf. I opened the bottle and poured the water on the floor. The liquid flowed toward the car and disappeared.

I followed the small stream and lay on my belly to see under the car. The water had found its way through a crack in the floor. No, a door, I realised, a doorway hidden under the car. I pulled the hatch open easily, slipped under the car, and crawled through the trapdoor, feet first.

Stairs led downward, and I took a couple of breaths before I let myself get eaten up by the dark. I stood and walked as soon as I could, my fingers trailing the stone wall.

Cool air hit me, and I heard murmurs that could have been trickling water or the whispers of hidden voices. I couldn't see a thing, and my own heartbeat drowned out the thumping in my head.

I tried counting my steps, but soon lost count. The darkness distracted me. The steps were a little slippery, as though slimy mould grew on them. The only scent was faint, and I had the feeling I was getting close to the barrier that protected whatever was hidden there.

A sound made me freeze to the spot, then a hand gripped my ankle, and I was falling, my head striking the stone steps, my mind sinking into oblivion.

# Chapter Seventeen

"Why would you do that?"

"I thought she was one of them."

"Still. She wouldn't have found us without being shown the way. All you did was convince her someone's here, you fool. Well, you can be the one to tell Folsom."

"I panicked!"

I opened my eyes to only darkness and tried to speak, but whoever was there fell silent.

Again, I slept.

***

I couldn't open my eyes. I brought my fingers to my sockets and discovered my eyes were already open. I just couldn't see anything. It took a couple of minutes of shaking, horrified fear that I had gone blind to realise it was simply too dark to see.

Slowly, my eyes focused, and a dark greenish light showed me that I was at the bottom of the stairs in a space the size of a large wardrobe. My head ached. I suddenly remembered that someone had pulled me down. Someone was there. I wasn't leaving until I found their hiding place.

I explored the area with my hands. The length was about five steps, width maybe three. The wall next to the steps was covered with stacked crates. None were dusty. On a whim, I pulled the corner of the stack out slightly and pressed my palm against the wall behind the crates.

My hand passed through the wall slightly, springing back from the pressure. The wall was definitely not solid. My curiosity overwhelmed my thoughts, eating away at me when I should have just walked back up the stairs. But I couldn't leave, not until I knew who or what was hiding down there.

I dragged all of the crates out of the way and used my entire body, pushing against the wall. At first it felt spongy, but something was pushing back, some kind of barrier.

I used my other sense, trying to get a feel for it, but my way was blocked. That feeling was heaviest under the garage, the very edge of something.

I concentrated hard, feeling my way around, and right at the edge of my senses, I found a chink in the armour. I was able to almost duck under it, but a veil stopped me from reaching through to the other side. I could probably enter if I pushed hard enough on that other plane.

I pushed and pushed. The veil finally drew aside, but when I moved through and looked down, I was only an apparition, not me at all. I glanced behind me in fright and watched my physical self step through the wall. I stared myself in the eye before I was drawn back inside my body.

"Okay, that was _freaky_."

A cold gust of wind blew around my ankles, and I smelled food and heard echoes of conversations. I was in a different place. The otherness of it clung to me. And I had no idea what was ahead.

Shivering, I stepped down a stone corridor, hoping I wasn't about to get lost underground. Or wherever the hell I was. Something in the air was off; I wasn't sure if it was a smell or a sensation, but I knew it was wrong somehow.

My boots scuffed the stone floor noisily, and the voices grew louder. The hallway ended in fire. A random fire blocked my way. I edged closer and felt no heat. However, something in the fire called to me, beckoned me. It almost felt like home, and I reached out to touch it.

Flames flickered against my fingertips, but I felt nothing, and that somehow scared me all the more, as if the flames welcomed me. Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the door of fire.

I found myself surrounded by people. Folsom watched me warily. A blond man, no, an _angel_ , peered at me with curiosity. A human woman stood next to him, gripping his hand, but I kept turning, seeing more and more faces.

I blinked in astonishment. "Leah?"

The teenager who had escaped from the Council's cell sat cross-legged on a blanket on the stone floor, appearing calmer than anyone else. I took an automatic step toward her and ended up on the ground after receiving a solid thump to my chest.

"What the...?" I coughed, struggling to my feet.

A woman I hadn't noticed stood in front of me, her arms folded. I couldn't help staring at her. Her hair, skin, and even her eyes were the colour of honey. Her long hair was plaited, and when she turned to look back at Leah, the braid swayed to reveal bumps on the back of her neck. That stirred a vague memory of Emmett's drawings. The bumps began at her widow's peak, I realised as she turned back to glare at me again. Tattoos swirled from her neck, past her cheeks, up her temples, and into her hairline. Beautifully intricate, feminine tattoos, but she wasn't any inch of a delicate creature. She was a warrior. She carried weaponry like jewellery.

"It's okay, Val," Leah said. "That's Ava."

Val took a step back, still glaring at me, and then moved next to Leah and sank to the floor. Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

I stared around the room in amazement. The walls were all stone, and a couple of fires were lit here and there, warming the large living area. A number of hallways filled with closed doors branched off; those coupled with the tall ceilings made the area appear huge. But the place was so dreary, and the two dozen or so people I could see appeared to be living there.

"Anyone wanna tell me what all of this is?" I turned to Leah. "And how on earth did you get out of the rabbit warren that is the Council's cells?"

"Val rescued me," Leah replied.

Of course she did.

Folsom sidled up to me. "We don't want any trouble here. We're not doing any harm. I promise you that."

"But what _are_ you doing? Where are we? And who the hell knocked me down the stairs?" I noted a small figure scurrying back into the darkness.

"We're hiding," Leah said.

"From who?"

"Everyone, really."

I scratched my cheek, still trying to figure out what to do next.

"How did she get through without an invitation?" Val asked. Everyone stared at me with a weirdly collaborative type of horror in their eyes.

"I just walked through the wall," I said, feeling slightly ashamed for some reason.

The angel got to his feet and approached me. "What brought you down here?"

"I might ask you the same thing, angel."

His smile was full of smarm, reminding me of Gabe. He was prettier than Gabe, but there was something sly about his eyes that I didn't like.

"We can't allow her to leave," he said. "She's seen too much already."

"Oh, for the love of—"

And then a familiar voice called my name. I glanced around in surprise.

"She's in the first room," Folsom said wearily. "Come." He led me into a perfectly ordinary-looking bedroom off the main stone hall. A woman lay on the bed, obviously sickening from something. I would never forget her face.

"Helena?" I rushed to her side, my heart bursting.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry about the trial."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Helena looked a lot older than she had when she tried to bring Nancy and me together in my younger years. Back then, she had been vibrant, and even her scent had seemed magical to me. At the trial, she had been older, but still nowhere near the kind of deterioration in front of me.

"I'm dying," she said as if she knew what I had been thinking. "No need to look so horrified. You always did show your heart in those eyes of yours." She laughed, and it turned into a horrendous cough. Folsom held a cup to her lips, and she sipped once the hacking stopped. "Trust me, Ava, this is a good thing. I've stolen far too many years, seen too many things. I'm not able to keep up anymore."

"How did you get here? Where did you go all those years ago? What's going on?"

Folsom produced a couple of chairs and bade me to sit next to him at Helena's bedside. "Talking tires her," he said. "Maybe I'll tell you her story."

Helena nodded. Seeing her so weak ripped a hole in my chest.

"What's really going on?" I asked Folsom.

"This is a safehouse," he said, his faint Scottish accent thickening. "Those who need to be hidden hide here. It's not safe out there for many of us. For many reasons. They all have their own story. Some came to me and asked for help, and I gave it willingly. I built this place for a reason, and when the time came, we stole a piece of somewhere to hide in."

"What do you mean?"

"We built the walls, but where the walls are hidden does not belong to us. Yet the place protects us, from all kinds of things. We call it the Féinics because it is a place of rebirth. Some create new identities and leave, while others stay in peace, but everyone changes here. The old ways die here. They must."

"Are you the Féinics?"

"No." He glanced at Helena with worry in his eyes. "This place is."

I screwed up my nose in confusion. "Are you rebels?"

"Only in the sense that we hide from the vultures above. Ava, the old ways don't help the helpless, and some need sanctuary. If that makes us rebels, then so be it, but my dearest wife refused to turn away a soul, and I will keep doing what she wanted for as long as I can. I suppose that makes me a rebel."

I let out a giggle of relief. "I've been looking for you lot for ages!"

He sighed. "Aye, for the Council."

"No. Well, not really." I pulled up my sleeves to display my brands. "I owe some friends a favour. I promised them I'd get them out of England and bring them to the Féinics. I made a deal, and I'm going to keep burning until I do it."

"So bring them."

"You don't understand. They're in a place like this, a pocket that's hidden from everyone else. And there's a war going on in England. Last I heard, they were trapped in their place with Esther, a Guardian friend of mine."

"Well then, you can't help them. No Guardian can know about this place."

"But—"

"No. They aren't welcome here. The Council will kill us all."

"Esther would never do anything to hurt you. She promised to sneak the twins out of the country to help me."

"Twins," Helena said weakly.

I turned to her. "You know them, don't you? The twins. They're part-fae, kind of psychic. The girl accidentally showed me a glimpse of you one time."

A tear rolled down her cheek. "My babies... they're alive?"

"They're fine. Or at least, they will be when we get them out of there."

"Helena, I'm sorry," Folsom said. "Your twins... I—"

"What happened?" I said, interrupting him. "How did they end up in the slave market?"

Helena let out a shuddering breath, and I imagined I could scent the death coming from her. "When I was young, I fell in love with one of the fae. He came from a powerful family. I dabbled in magic. I'm a Wiccan, and I met him after I helped heal someone he cared for."

"One of the consultants is a witch," I said.

She made a scornful sound. "No Wiccan. She uses black magic, dark magic that can't be trusted. Keep away from her, Ava. Promise me."

"I will. I'll be careful."

"Good. Remember that everything has a consequence, and the darker magics have the most painful consequences of all. My love was drawn to my pure magic. He wanted to know more about my coven, but we fell for each other before long. I wasn't of his blood, so our relationship was forbidden. He left his people, and we had some great years. We had a boy and a girl and a wonderful life for a time. But one day, he didn't come home, and I knew something was wrong. That night, they came."

"Who?"

"The fae. And a monster who hid his true face. They took my children and beat me when I tried to stop them. The fae woman wouldn't let them kill me. She said she had made a deal. But they took my babies, and I couldn't stop them. The fae woman told me they were going to be sold, that they were going to be useful if they had to live. I woke up in a hospital a week later, and nobody believed that I ever had children. They told me I had never been a mother, nor a wife. My husband never returned to me, but I couldn't give up. I searched for them, all of the time. I heard so many things."

She shook her head pitifully. "I heard of beings like you, Ava, beings who could find their way into the place my children were taken. I thought someone like you could help me. I'm sorry for that, too, for intending to use you in that way."

I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat.

She looked away, her voice lowering into a bitter tone. "But you didn't come along soon enough, and I had asked too many questions. I made it too obvious who I was. They took me to the market, told me I had given up my right to freedom by not sticking to the deal. I've never learned what the deal was, but they took me away nonetheless. I met Val there, and later, Leah. I took care of the children and taught the ones who were stuck there to take care of the smaller ones."

"So you never saw the twins? But they were there for a long time," I said. "Maybe thirty years."

She wiped a tear with a shaky hand. "They were never going to allow us to meet again. I couldn't take any more years, couldn't keep myself young, even though I knew they wouldn't age as quickly as I did, and my strength began to fail. But in the darkness, Leah came. She could do things that would make her invaluable, so I taught her to hide it. Val was a guard, but I persuaded her that Leah in the wrong hands could destroy everything, and I helped them escape. I told them to run. I went back into the dark until they ripped me out to stand at your trial. When I escaped from there, Val found me and brought me here."

"So you were there with Emmett?" My heart beat extra fast. "You're the one who taught him to hide his gifts?"

"The children have no names there," she said sadly.

"He's almost ten, but he's small. He can see ghosts... or maybe they're trapped souls, but he can bend them to his will."

She struggled to smile. "I remember him. Is he free?"

"Yeah. But not before they tried to trick his father into killing him. So you've been in the slave market? You know where it is?"

She shook her head. "It isn't that simple. It's in hell, Ava. It isn't a place you walk into with directions."

My cheeks burned. "Where are we now?"

Folsom answered, "This is also a tiny, as you called it, pocket in hell. It's the only safe place there is for us."

"So the twins are in another pocket? Can I get from one to the other? Make a shortcut? Find me a door?"

"What is it you're trying to do?" Folsom asked sharply.

"Get my friends out of England and close the slave markets, once and for all."

"That's impossible," he said.

"Nothing's impossible," I protested. "Helena tried to find me for a reason, right? Because I'm one of the tainted. I can open doors. I found you all, so why couldn't I find the others, too? I'm supposed to be able to do weird crap like this, aren't I?"

"I can help her."

I turned to see Val standing in the doorway.

"I can find my way around," she said confidently. "I will help you."

# Chapter Eighteen

"The market is well guarded," Val said between bites of food. "There's no way the two of us could break out all of the children without them getting hurt."

"Yeah, well, if we get Esther free, she can speak on our behalf. The Council will listen to her and maybe send an army in with us."

We sat around a large dining table: me, Folsom, Val, Leah, the angel and his friend, and a couple of stragglers. They had invited me to eat with them as we discussed our plans, and I hoped that meant they had accepted I wouldn't willingly do them any harm.

"What makes you think the Council will help us?" Val asked.

"I don't. But we have to try."

"You don't even know how to make a doorway out of here," the angel said, sneering again.

"I didn't know how to make a doorway to get in here, yet here I am. Besides, if the likes of _you_ got down here, then anything's possible," I retorted.

"Cam's fallen," Val explained. "And he's a traitor and a weasel besides."

"I came back," he said in a voice that made it sound as though they'd had the same argument a million times. "I came back, and I led you here. That should count for something by now, surely."

The black woman next to him patted his arm, but the gesture seemed to be her drawing reassurance from him rather than the other way around.

"The twins are important," I said. "They see things. They saw this place. They showed me how to find the beast, and they helped me finish her off."

"We hear different," Cam said. "We hear the shifter alpha did it."

"You hear what we want you to hear," I snapped, and then I sighed. There was no point in my taking the heads off everyone around me because I didn't like their words. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried. The English were about to start a war over the beast. Lies were the only way to diffuse the situation. But they're warring over there anyhow, so it was coming no matter what we did."

"The alpha's sister concerns me. Parading ourselves in front of the Guardians can't work out well," Folsom said, tossing a rib bone on his plate with some dissatisfaction.

"She's good people," I insisted. "She's not like them. And helping her will make Aiden warm to the next part of the plan. Esther's ambitious, but she isn't as tightly tied to the Council as her brother. She plays fair. But I should warn you all. This is dangerous, regardless. Whoever is in charge of the markets is on to me. They're watching me. And I'm getting more and more concerned that someone in the Council or the Guardians is involved in this, too."

"So we're all going to die," a small man at the end of the table said. "When you were in the cells, did you see my brother? He looks like me; he has dark curly hair, and—"

"I saw him," I said. "I'm sorry."

"What did they do to him?" He straightened as if preparing for the worst.

"He ripped something out of his sleeve, swallowed it, and died before they could stop him." I gulped at the memory, expecting anger, but he slapped the back of the person next to him.

"That's him all right. Wouldn't let 'em take him alive, he always said." He brimmed with a pride I found difficult to understand.

"But Cam is right," Folsom said after a few minutes. "We still don't know how to make a path from here to England. Or if it's really possible."

"But we're not going to England," I reminded him. "We're stepping out of one world and into another. It's more like a gateway."

"And she came here," Val said. "She found us without an invitation. She opened up her own doorway to get to us. Never forget that."

"I have a friend who might know," I said. "Or at least have some idea of what we can do. Can I leave and try to find out?"

Val's shoulders tightened, but Leah said, "Of course. We can trust her."

They all appeared to listen closely to the teenage girl.

I stood up from the table. "I'll just talk to Helena, and then I'm off. I'll be back tomorrow at the latest. There's no way anyone can just sneak in here, is there?"

"Only you," Cam said grimly. I really didn't like him.

When I went into her room, Helena was weeping again.

"We're going to get them back to you," I promised her. "They'll be here before you know it."

"What are they like?" she asked.

"They're very close, and I like them a lot. Lucia doesn't speak, but she sees things and shows them to Lorcan, then he says them aloud. They can shroud themselves, or a large area, easily."

"They kept their names," she said in wonder.

"That was probably Lucia. She doesn't forget. She showed me you, but it was just a brief image, and I wasn't sure..."

"She remembers," Helena said, smiling. "That's enough for me. If I die before they come, will you tell them how much I loved them, and that I never stopped caring for them or searching for them?"

"I'll tell them. Of course I will. Helena, the way they've created a hiding place, is that fae magic?"

She nodded. "It's not creation. It's technically stealing some space and using it to hide what's already there. If they hide it well enough, nobody ever notices it's gone. It's something the fae have always done to protect themselves. It's also how they take over territories, but that's too long a story for today. Although, not all of them have the skill anymore. It's become quite a rarity."

"So who made this place then?"

"I don't know for certain."

"But you can guess. Lorcan has a sword. Someone left it in their house while they slept. When he touched it, it lit up, and he could see writing along the blade."

"The sword!" She tried and failed to sit up in her excitement. "The family sword. He must be alive, Ava. He must be."

"Who must be?"

"Their father. He must have survived, somehow. Maybe he was the one who created this place. Maybe that was his way of helping me. By giving me a place to hide."

She dissolved into tears, and nothing I could say seemed to help.

Folsom pulled me out of the room. "She's like this often of late. It won't do to excite her too much."

"Is there anything we can do for her?"

He shook his head. "She's dying, Ava. There's nothing that can be done for her now. She's had a longer life than most, all things considered. It's time for her to rest."

"Who made this place, Folsom? Who started all of this?"

"A fae. We named the place after him. He was an idealist. He wanted to create a sanctuary to protect those unfairly treated by the rules of the Council. We had a few deals together, and he made this place for safekeeping, warned me to take in his family when they arrived. He planned on returning himself, but he never made it. I haven't learned what happened to him. I knew him after he had left his people, you see. But I do know this, he was an important fae, too important to be allowed to breed with a human."

"Helena's husband?"

"Likely."

"So why haven't you told her?"

He sighed. "She knows, I think. But there's no way of telling her things sometimes. No knowing how she'll react. I don't want to upset her unnecessarily by discussing painful memories. You see how she is now."

I rubbed my arms, feeling nervous. "What would happen if they discovered a way in here?"

"We would all die. Try not to let us down, Ava."

He let me go with that plea. I wouldn't forget it. I practically flew home and didn't relax until I made it inside the cul-de-sac. I had so much to think about, so much to decide and figure out, but being home felt safer.

To my relief, Emmett hugged me at the door.

"I've missed you, little dude," I said.

"You're hurt." His face wrinkled, and I touched my still aching forehead tenderly.

"I'm okay. Do you remember an old woman, Emmett? The woman who warned you to hide what you could do?"

His face shut down of all emotion. "Yes."

"I found her today. And I think I'm going to be able to shut down the market forever, so no child has to hide themselves again."

He didn't look as happy as I expected him to, but I followed him into the living room to find Peter and Carl laughing together.

"We have a lot to go through," I said. "Carl, I need you to put your research hat on. I've had a screwed up night." I relayed everything that had happened as quickly as possible.

"There must be something natural that you do," Carl said when I finished.

"I was thinking that, but it seems dangerous."

He rubbed his chin. "But you did it at Folsom's."

"Yeah, I did." I shrugged. "I'm still not sure how. Besides, I knew they were there. This is a bit different. Let's not forget that I don't seem to have any real control over the things I do. What if I screw it up?"

"What if this Val chick screws you over?" Peter asked.

"I think she's okay. She hates the blond angel boy about as much as I hate Gabe, so we're on the same level. Plus, she's strong, and she knows her way around. She could be a big asset."

"Until the Council try to arrest her for breaking into the cells and helping someone escape," Peter said. "This is the Council we're talking about. As soon as you start talking about opening hell gates, there's gonna be an uproar."

"Well, I'll have to be a bit more persuasive then. Carl, sorry there isn't a lot of literature here, but do you think you could do some research anyway? Even a hint of what I should do would be great. I'm going to make some phone calls. I'll be in my room."

"What about me?" Peter asked.

I stared at him. "Take care of your son."

His eyes narrowed, but I ignored his displeasure and headed up to my room. I sat on my bed and rang Gabe. "Are you fallen?" I asked him as soon as he picked up the phone.

There was a pause. "Why do you ask that?"

"I need help. Again. It's about the market. And Esther. And some other stuff."

"Explain." He sounded snappish.

"I can get to Esther through a back door. But I kind of don't know how to open it. Yet, I mean. And once I do that, I can do the same with the slave market, but I need backup."

"Well, I can't go near Hell."

"Unless you're fallen." I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

"Ava, I... damn you, girl."

"Is that a yes? Look. We need to shut down that market and figure out who's running the place. We need to get Esther and the twins here to figure out which kind of what the fuckery is going on in England right now. And we need me to open up some hell gates so we can sneak in to all of these places."

"You need a starting point," he said dully. "You can't just open hell anywhere you like."

"But if you could, how would that happen?"

He made a noise that might have been a laugh or frustration. "I'll get back to you, okay? I'll try to find out how we can work this."

"But don't tell anyone what I'm doing."

"Fine. But Ava, how did you hear about the fallen?"

"I met one today." I hung up before he could ask me any more questions. I needed to use the people he was looking for to help bring Esther home. It was too close for comfort, but I had no choice. I had to make the most of everything on hand. War was coming. We had to clean our own kitchen before that happened.

"You okay?" Peter asked from the doorway.

"Yeah, just hoping Nancy will be okay at the hotel. It's probably for the best though. I don't think it would be good for Emmett to be around her."

He sat on the end of the bed. "She wouldn't hurt him, Ava."

I shrugged. "I'd prefer if she wasn't seen here."

"Shay was here before."

I stared at him blankly, unsure of what to say.

He gazed at me steadily. "Why was he here?"

"How should I know? _I_ wasn't here." I frowned, and he looked away. Was Shay the source of the tension?

"Your plan is stupid," he said after a moment of awkward silence.

I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs for some kind of security. "Better than hiding in here forever and being burned alive by magical brands."

"I forgot, sorry." He reached for me. "Everything's gotten weird all of a sudden. It's all changing too fast. I should be going with you."

I stared at his hand, afraid to take it. "You don't have a choice this time."

"It's always your way."

"No, it's always the right way. My deal, my job. You got what you wanted. I haven't. And some of us don't have the time to act ridiculous when a Garda who worked on a missing child case is actually interested in said child."

He dropped his hand and crawled up to lie next to me, leaning his head on his arm. "You care about him, don't you?"

"Shay?"

He laughed. "No, Emmett. But now that you mention it..." He brushed his hand across my stomach.

"Of course I care about the kid," I said, completely ignoring his remark about Shay.

"Yvonne keeps calling me, asking to see him. The kid has more ladies fawning over him than I do."

I grinned. "Dita likes him."

"Is that why she keeps telling him how stupid he is?"

I burst out laughing. "Exactly why."

He caressed my cheek, turning my head gently so I faced him. He leaned over to give me the softest kiss he had ever pressed against my lips. His gaze held mine, and he ran his thumb across my cheek affectionately. "I'm sorry I haven't been acting the way you need me to."

My stomach curled up with pleasure, despite my constant anxiety. "I'm glad you're here now." I drew him in for a deeper kiss, relishing the feeling that he was with me, really with me, for the first time.

"I don't know how to take care of him," he admitted when he pulled back, his mood changing dramatically. "He prefers you to me."

"And who could blame him?" I teased, but he didn't smile. "Oh, come on. It's just because I was here first. It's in his head that I was the first one he saw. I took care of him when he was scared and alone. That's all."

He gave a shuddering sigh. "And who took care of him all of the times he was scared and alone in the market?"

I leaned against him as if I could push his guilt away. "Helena took care of him in the dark. She told me she made him hide how much power he had."

"Which brings us back to the question, how does he have power in the first place?"

"I told you my theory." I shrugged. "You or his mother probably have some non-human ancestors. That story we heard in Kerry about the god water and special children and stuff, it makes some kind of sense. He's not a normal human child."

"That would serve me right," he said with a grin, pulling me closer.

"We have work to do," I said, but I let him wrap his arms around me. I snuggled against his warmth, the solid figure who would protect me, but he couldn't come with me anymore. Neither could Carl. Esther was gone. I was alone, except for Val, who was probably as likely to murder me as help me.

"Think we'll ever know everything?" I asked. "I mean, all of the answers. Do you think we'll ever have explanations for everything that happens?"

"No. But we'll keep doing whatever we have to do anyway, right?"

I traced the cross on his wrist with my fingertip and felt him tremble. I had no idea what I was going to do, or even what I wanted to do. I had a list of things I had to do, but after that, then what? After getting the twins and Esther home, I was going after the slave markets. Maybe after that I would figure out what Eddie was doing, or perhaps I would make it my mission to topple the Council. Maybe one day all of the wrongs would be righted, and what would I be left with? Where would I go from there? Mrs. Yaga's words had imprinted on me, and I realised there had to be some long-term plan. At some stage, I would have to choose to give up or go on, and if I gave up, I had to decide what would come next.

"Where will you be in ten years?" I asked.

"Last month, I would have said dead."

I giggled. "Morbid git."

"Now I say... hopefully, I'll have a grownup son."

"Ever think about having more?"

"No. The world we're in isn't for children."

I smiled. "Maybe one day it will be."

Carl called us, and we both headed downstairs reluctantly. We still had a lot of work to do.

# Chapter Nineteen

We came up with pretty much nothing. Emmett had gone to bed by the time we gave up on books and the internet. Not for the first time, I desperately wished I was in contact with others like me, just so I could ask them questions, a million questions that nobody seemed willing to answer. Most of them began with the word why.

"Maybe it's something simple," Carl said as we brainstormed futilely.

"Like what?" Peter asked. "She stands in the middle of the street shouting, 'Open sesame'?"

"No need to snap at him," I said, scribbling on a piece of paper. "I went through a gate of sorts today. Maybe I just need to use that place to create another space. I need to use my other sense somehow. Use it for what it was meant to do."

"But how can you guarantee you'll get to Esther? What if you wander around forever trying to find the right path?" Peter sounded as frustrated as I felt.

"I don't know. There have never been any guarantees here. I asked Gabe for help. Maybe there's something he can find out."

Peter stood suddenly, startling Carl and me. "Stop asking him for help. He's going to own every hair on your head by the time you're finished with him."

"What else am I supposed to do?" I practically shouted, only reining myself in at the thought of Emmett hearing me. "We can't go to England. We have to take a shortcut. I'm the only one who can do it."

"There have to be others," Carl said.

"Of course there are, but I'm the only one here right now." I lay my head on my hands, leaning on the table. Peter sat back down and rubbed my shoulders. "I can do it. I know I can. I just need to figure out how."

"How did you find Becca?" Carl asked after a strained silence.

"I just... found her. I knew her, and if I pushed past the boundaries, it was like... some part of me was able to follow her and find her. One time, I kept pushing, and it was like a part of me moved around, and it was _here_ , but not really here."

"Astral projection?" he asked. "Or just something you do? Either way, why can't it work that way for Esther? You know her as well as Becca, right?"

"Yeah, but Becca was connected to me somehow. I can't explain it, but she was already on my radar. It was like I was supposed to find her, as though that was my job."

"So make finding Esther and the twins your job," Carl said.

Peter sat up straight. "What do you mean?"

"She's connected to the twins, too. Just look at those brands if you doubt it, but we both know how attached she gets to people. Why wouldn't she be able to find them, too? And Helena should have some kind of connection with her own children, so maybe being close to her and her memories will help."

"I don't know," I said. "The last time I pushed too hard, I got stuck."

Carl looked doubtful. "Stuck?"

"Yeah." I scratched my head, trying to think of a way to explain it. "The night Esther, Peter, and I looked for Becca, I pushed harder than ever before, and I was on some new level, a different plane. It's hard to explain, but everything was different, and I was able to move for miles by just looking in a direction. I tried to get back once I found Becca's path, but I was stuck. I couldn't move, and a figure came to me and just... pushed me back out." I mimicked by pressing my palm against my forehead.

"The bruise," Peter said. "That handprint. That's what it was?"

"This could be it," Carl said excitedly.

"Except for the getting stuck part," I reminded him.

"It might be your only option," Peter said.

"What if I get stuck? What if I don't, and only get stuck on my way home? What if—"

"What if you do it right?" Carl asked gently.

I thought about it all night, sitting up in the kitchen alone. Peter was asleep in my room with Emmett, and Carl had taken the spare bed. I couldn't sleep, not with the idea everything might depend on something I wasn't good at running through my brain.

I paced up and down, trying to figure out some way of making sure it would all work out for the best.

"You need some sleep," Peter said, sneaking into the room and making me jump.

"I can't. Too much thinking going on."

He came up behind me and surrounded me with his arms. I wasn't sure if he was comforting me or himself. I didn't care. I spun around and pulled him closer, pressing my mouth against his, taking everything he could give me. He lifted me onto the counter, reminding me of the succubus mark, but I shoved it all out of my head. His kisses were almost violent; he managed to push every emotion possible into them. Every kiss with him was a last kiss. I was okay with that.

"You can do it." He pulled away, breathing heavily.

I nuzzled his throat with bruised lips and fangs that itched to sink into skin. I held him close, able to resist the temptation, but it was the fact he could let me so close that surprised me. "And if I can't do it, Peter? What then?"

His answer was another kiss. I was okay with that, too.

"You can do anything," he whispered against my lips, and my tongue erased all trace of his words. My fingers gripped his hair, and he carried me into the living room, his mouth never leaving mine.

We lay on the sofa, and he gave me everything he could, but when I awoke early the next morning, shivering, I was alone. I had to get used to that.

I checked in on Emmett, finding him asleep in his father's arms. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding, feeling more relieved than I could say at the idea that Peter was finally putting his son first. One less thing for me to worry about.

Of course I had plenty more concerns. Gabe had no answers. Maeve wasn't around, and time was ticking. So I took my dagger and headed back to Folsom's home, hoping nobody was watching. If they were, they couldn't do much, but the less suspicion to fall on Folsom's place, the better.

Something grimy was in the air, as though the earth was preparing for battle. I was hoping for less of the battle and more of the lucky breaks.

I rang Gabe on the way, deciding I couldn't wait for him to call me. He sounded flustered when he answered, but after I said hello, he seemed relieved. Not exactly typical.

"I'm glad you rang," he said. "What you need is a hotspot, a place where the connection between the two worlds is at its strongest. It can be at a source of great magic, or the place of a magical battle even, but there aren't many of them. Finding one is the biggest problem."

"I need less problems, Gabe."

He laughed softly. "I realise that. Your only options are to find places that have already been accessed. Once there, you need to concentrate on using your will. It's in your nature to force your way through. Use your energy, whatever comes naturally to you. But be careful. You don't want to let anything out."

"Uh, okay, thanks."

I hung up quickly, thinking hard. By the time I reached Folsom's place, I wasn't sure if Gabe had actually been helpful or only confused me even more.

Silence surrounded the garage, but I knew where I was going, and the stairs seemed less spooky since I knew what was hidden below them. I passed through the wall easily, this time prepared for the unsettling feeling of watching my body move by itself. Or whatever it was.

Folsom was waiting for me, his skin looking greyer than usual. "They didn't think you would come back," he said. "But I had a feeling you would surprise us."

"What else do I have to do? I've been busy trying to figure out how to make this plan... go according to plan. I have an idea, but I can't guarantee it will work. Val doesn't have to come with me because I can't tell her it's safe, but I'm going today. I can't wait any longer."

"I'm coming," Val said, stepping out of one of the seemingly endless number of bedrooms. "Is that your only weapon?"

I held up the dagger. "It's pretty good. What are you taking?"

She smiled. A horrible, dangerous smile. "As much as I can carry."

I blinked rapidly, suddenly unnerved. "Well, goody for you. How's Helena today?"

"Fading fast," Folsom said.

"She has to see the twins first," I said. "It wouldn't be fair if she lost out this close to the end."

"Go as quick as you can," he advised. "But don't make mistakes. How will you open a gate?"

"I'll figure something out." I didn't want anyone watching me mess up, so I was glad it was early and everyone else seemed to still be in bed. "I'll just say goodbye to Helena."

I went to Helena's room, sat by her bed, and took her hand. I whispered her name. She opened her eyes slowly, and I could plainly see she was fading.

"I'm going to find them," I told her. "I'm going to bring them home. Can you help me?"

She mouthed, "How?"

"Think about them. Your connection to them might help me find them faster."

Her skeletal fingers gripped mine harder, and I hoped it would work. I tried to soak up her emotion while I remembered my own experiences with the twins, and as Esther was a good friend of mine anyway, I felt slightly more confident that a door would open for me.

"Hurry," Helena said, and the word compelled me to leave her there and join the others.

"Are you ready?" I asked Val.

She nodded, and Folsom offered me a satchel. I stared at it in confusion.

He pressed it into my hand. "Some food and water, and a first aid kit. You don't have any idea what will happen or how long you'll be. At least this will have you somewhat prepared."

"I'm counting on being back before I get hungry," I said, but my stomach was churning. I had no idea if we would ever make it back.

"What do you need from me?" Val asked.

"What can you do?"

"Kill things."

"Good stuff." I wandered around the hallway while they watched, probably thinking I was a gigantic psycho. I brushed my fingers along the stone, trying to feel for something: energy, a sign, a place that would be easy to pass through.

"Feel the thinnest place," an arrogant voice said behind me.

"What would you know, angel?" I snapped, irrationally embarrassed.

"More than you," he replied. "You were born to walk on all sides of the wall, but you need to find the gaps in the fence. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

Energy thrummed in the walls, under my feet, and over my head. The hotspot was all around me once I paid attention. I closed my eyes and reached out with my other senses until I found a weakness in the wall, a crack in the boundary. I moved, eyes still closed, toward the shaky part of the structure and reached out with one hand.

"Here," I said. "This is the right place." I opened my eyes. The spot was in the corner, and it was dark, but it felt right to me. If I was some kind of hell spawn-ish tainted whatever, then I should fit right at home with the creatures beyond that wall.

"Sure you're ready?" I asked my newest partner in crime.

Val nodded.

I shrugged, turning to Folsom. "If we don't make it back, be careful."

"Tainted," Cam said. I turned to look at him, holding my breath. "Don't get lost," he added with a grin.

I rested my hands on the wall, leaning my forehead against brick. I pushed out with my other sense, moving from one plane to another until I was back in that sticky place. The air turned dusky mauve and grey, and sound stopped. Breathing stopped. I concentrated on the twins, on the brands burning my arms, on Esther and her stupidly big bear claws. I sought them out, and suddenly, I was flying, freefalling.

I moved so fast that if I had been breathing, I wouldn't have been able to still manage it. The journey was breathtaking; I flew under water and above clouds, in darkness and in light. It took years and a split second, but I felt the end of my journey approaching. I skidded to a stop right outside the old Georgian-style house that had once had an upside down nine on the front door.

Esther lay on the ground, apparently injured, and Lucia knelt next to her. Lorcan stood in front of them, his face determined, fae sword in hand. I saw it then. The barrier around them was breaking. Someone outside had the magic to tear it down slowly. Time was almost out.

With a silent gasp, I flew back, quicker than an instant, and was back with Folsom, Val, and Cam again.

"We don't have much time. They're in serious danger," I said hurriedly. "Hold on to my shoulder."

Val gripped my shoulder, and I winced. Closing my eyes, I imagined myself passing through, creating a new gateway. I saw the veil, lifted it, and made sure the twins and Esther were on my mind.

I almost screamed when I faced Val coming straight at me, but then I was sent straight back into my body, and all was normal, except for the long passageway. A shimmering archway stood behind us, darkness in front of us, and we had only one way to move if we wanted to keep going.

"Let's go," I whispered. I used my senses again as we moved. "Nothing's around. It's just us."

"Good," she said, looking grim.

"Val, I have no idea how to close the door behind us. Anything could follow us."

"We'll deal with that when, or if, the time comes. Let's go."

We jogged for a little while, and I began to worry. "I meant to walk straight into their place," I admitted.

"I don't think that's how it's supposed to work. Let's keep moving. We'll get there."

We walked without speaking for about twenty minutes.

"Helena told me you and Leah were in the market," I said, mostly to cut through the eerie silence.

"Yes, when they realised I was almost as strong as my father, they made me guard the market instead. I wasn't the only one, but I stayed closest to the children, and I got to know Helena."

"What was your father?"

She sighed. "A hell hound."

"Are you having a laugh?" It was too dark to see her expression, but I could almost feel her glare ripping into my skin. "How did you end up in the market anyway?" I carefully watched for any sudden movements. I didn't know for sure that I could trust her, and I had already pissed her off.

"I was born there," she said briskly. "My mother grew up in the market. One of the stolen humans, apparently. My father was a guard. He raped her, and when I grew in her belly and killed her by clawing my way out of her, he laughed. He delighted in telling me that story. So when I escaped with Leah, I made sure I killed _him_ on my way out."

"I'm sorry."

She looked askance at me. "Cam told me what you are."

"I thought you didn't like him."

"I don't." She paused for a beat. "But he helped us when we needed it, so I suppose I owe him. He's a bastard, though."

I bit down on my laughter. "Seems to be a species trait."

She gave me a rare smile as we passed under a strangely glowing light that reflected eerily in her eyes. She was probably the most striking person I had ever met in my life. Everything about her seemed alien, but in a way that demanded a second glance. I liked her, I realised. I wanted to trust her. I wanted her to stay on my side, and not just because I didn't think I could take her.

She chuckled. "I should probably cut him some slack. After all, his kind and mine should be natural enemies."

That brought me back to the hell hound aspect. "So your father... he was... like a..."

"He wasn't a dog, Ava. He was a person who happened to turn into something ferocious if he needed to. Don't take everything so literally."

"Sorry. I'm new to most of this."

"Sadly, I'm not."

Ten minutes later, I decided to take another shot. "What's the deal with Leah?"

Her voice softened. "She's special. Valuable. And I took my fate into my own hands to become her guardian."

"What is it she can do?"

"Do you always talk this much, Ava?"

"More, usually. Lots of quiet time to make up for."

She laughed softly. "Leah thinks you could help us."

"Help you do what?"

"Change everything."

We made it to the end of the hallway, and I said, "Keep your hand on my shoulder again. Just in case. I know you're from here, but I could have messed up somehow."

"You didn't." She put her hand on my shoulder anyway, with a little less circulation-numbing strength in her grip.

I leaned against the wall, feeling my way to the other side. That time, I barely noticed what looked like Val walking straight into me, but I did see the darkening of the sky as she passed through onto the twins' street, and I wondered how long we had really been in that tunnel.

"Hey!" I shouted, relieved to see we had arrived in the right place. Everything was as I had seen it: Esther, injured, and the twins waiting to protect her. Esther and Lorcan jumped at my yell, but Lucia smiled as though she had been expecting me.

I nodded in greeting. "Time to go. I need you all to hold on to each other."

"Where are we going?" Lorcan asked, eyeing the doorway behind me while helping Esther to her feet.

"Not enough time. Come on!"

The way back would be harder, partly because I could sense the old barrier protecting the twins' home tearing behind me. But we all moved through the doorway I had made.

"It's a long way, but we have to run," I said.

"The vampires sent a group after Esther," Lorcan said. "They've been out there all night with a witch, trying to break down the barrier. You came just in time. They're almost through the protection."

I pushed him ahead of me. "Which is why we have to run. They could follow us. I've no idea. I don't know how to close it."

"Ava, wait," Esther said weakly. "Leave me here. I can't run. Just get your friends to safety."

"Shut up, Esther. Val, help me."

Val and I grabbed Esther and half-carried her along between us. Lorcan bade Lucia to join him ahead of us.

"Where are we going?" Lorcan asked again, more persistently this time.

"Somewhere safe. Just trust me."

We heard yells behind us, and then screams.

"The door closed on them," Val said confidently. "It couldn't let them all through."

"They close by themselves?" I asked.

She glanced at me as we ran. "Let's hope not all of them."

Footsteps running behind us grew close enough to make me sweat.

"Run ahead," I said, letting go of Esther. "I'll stall this one."

They moved on, and I waited, jumping from one foot to another, my dagger in hand. The blue blade gleamed. I felt the hilt tremor in my fingers and wondered if some part of it had woken up so close to hell, ready to do the job it was created for.

A vampire ran at me, its eyes wide and blood-red. It screamed with an inhuman voice, and for a split second, it reminded me of Becca. But then it grinned, and it was just an ordinary vampire after all. He made some ridiculously vague threat, while I looked him over for a weakness.

I ducked under his strike, driving my shoulder into his stomach. He fell against the wall, and I stabbed him in the heart with my dagger. He spluttered soundlessly before burning up in front me, vein by vein.

I didn't stay to watch the show. Other footsteps were coming. I caught up to my friends, my stomach sinking at how short a distance they had moved.

"Should you phase?" I asked Esther.

"Can't. Not enough room."

The ceiling was quite low. Too low for a ginormous bear, I supposed. As we ran, I threw out my senses and discovered we weren't so far away from our destination. It had seemed a lot further the previous trip.

A few feet away from the doorway, I heard the vampires getting too close.

"Run!" I screamed. I stayed behind. I couldn't let the vampires through the doorway I had made. I couldn't let them into the sanctuary.

But Val came back to grab my arm. "We'll make it," she said. So we ran.

Lucia got through the doorway first. It opened wide for her. Then Lorcan and Esther passed, but the opening closed just as Val and I got there. We ran right into solid wall, colliding heavily.

"Shit." I felt around the wall, overwhelmed by a mixture of panic and relief. The deal I had made was over. If I could just survive this one last thing...

"Make another one. I'll hold them off." Val pulled out what looked like an overly large studded hammer. She flexed, cracking an obscene amount of bones at once. With a death roar, she held up her weapon and waited for them to charge.

I laid my hands on the wall, but I couldn't help watching as Val's shoulders and neck bulged, the bumps along her skin extending into sharp hornlike growths, and her eyes darkened into something terrible. She took one vampire off his feet with a single blow, and I turned my attention to creating a new doorway.

I thought of the twins, Esther, Helena, and even Leah. I had to find my way back. My soul seemed to gush out of my body and whirl through the air haphazardly until it came to the twins. Instantly, I pulled back, creating the door.

A female vampire was on Val's back, but I tore her down to the ground and stomped on her face, feeling her nose crunch under my foot.

"Come on!" I cried.

Val was in the middle of a rather Peter-like blood rage. She tore a vampire's head off with her bare hands as I watched in horror, and then trampled over the one I had taken down, shattering her skull, to get to me. She had killed them all herself. No wonder the market had kept her as a guard.

Val's eyes and shoulders died down as we passed through the door, but I kept glancing at her in concern.

"I'm done," she said quietly, and I nodded.

But _we_ weren't done. We stepped into a very different corridor than expected. I had taken us on a wrong turn.

# Chapter Twenty

Flames surrounded us, and I edged closer to Val, suddenly terrified.

"We belong," she said, surprise clear on her face at my reaction. "They won't hurt us today." She strode forward confidently, and the flames all died away as if they had never been there at all.

"I don't like it here," I said, shivering. "It feels... funny."

She glanced at me askance. "You'll be fine. But watch out. This path isn't as secure as the other. You did it too quickly."

"Why did the first door close on us like that?"

"I've no idea. Maybe enough passed through. Maybe your panic did something. I don't think I've met one like you before, so I can't say for sure."

The newest doorway behind us had closed too, but I thought that might have been because I had prayed so fervently for it to happen. Maybe I had some sort of control over the doorways I opened, after all.

"I found them because I was linked to them," I said after a few minutes. "How will I ever find the slave market?"

"I'll find it. It's a part of me. I was born there, and all paths lead home here. I can find it. We could go there now if we had more with us."

"You're kind of well able to take care of yourself."

"You're not entirely helpless yourself."

"Is this girl bonding?"

She stared at me. "You're so strange, Ava."

"So I've been told. Why did you help Leah? You busted her out of the cells, right?"

"With a little help. She needed me. When you spend time with her, you're just compelled to protect her. The things she can do scare me. The idea of them being in the wrong hands terrifies me."

"What is it that's so important to protect?"

She stopped walking and stared me down. "If you ever tell a soul about Leah, how to find her, what she can do, anything at all... I'll tear you apart with my own two hands. Do you understand me? Nothing will stop me, I vow to that."

I swallowed, but my throat was so dry that it felt like swallowing lumps of sand. "I get it. I wouldn't do anything to hurt Leah."

"Even to save the ones you love?" she asked, her gaze never leaving mine.

"Val, I don't give up on people. I can't. So if it came to that, well, I'd figure out a way around it."

"No matter," she said abruptly, walking ahead. "I won't let anyone take her again. She's special in that she can see everyone. I don't know who her parents were, but I've known plenty of those children who come through the markets. The power in them varies, but Leah... I've never seen anything like her. When Helena told me about her and convinced me that we needed to get her out of there, I sort of saw it as a way for me to escape, but then she got older, and I realised she was even more important than Helena had suspected."

"Why?"

"She's extremely valuable to anyone who owns her. She can find anyone with special blood, can tell on sight what they can do, if anything. She can make the entire game much simpler for anyone who traffics these children. She can see their value when they're born, so they don't have to waste their time waiting to find out what their gifts are."

"That's troubling," I admitted.

"She can walk into a town and tell me if there's power there. I'm not altogether sure she's even come into her own strengths yet. But the point is, nobody can own her, not even the Council." She took a couple of steps before muttering, "Especially not the Council."

"But how did Helena know what she could do?"

"Oh, she didn't," Val said. "She saw the mark, though. She had seen it before, a tattoo on Leah's back that marked her as belonging to someone. All of us are branded."

She swung her plait over her shoulder and pulled down the back of her top a little. I saw a sideways S on a circle, just like Emmett's.

"Leah's mark is different, and Helena didn't have time to explain, but it meant Leah was strong. Maybe from another slave market, maybe not, but either way, it marks her as valuable. She can't remember her old life, before she was sent to the market. She picked her own name. But she never worries and is never scared. She knows it will all work out in the end."

"A friend of mine got his son back from the market recently. The boy has the same mark as you on his back, but he won't talk about his past."

"They've given him something that makes him silent, most likely. Nothing noticeable, probably a tiny mark on his body, but it's there. And he'll always be reluctant to talk about it."

"Any idea who's in charge?"

She shook her head.

I grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Did you hear that?"

A whoosh over our heads made us duck. A bird made of fire dove toward us, wings flapping noiselessly. Quick as a flash, Val struck it with her weapon, and the bird disappeared.

"Someone's watching," she said. "That was a warning. We need to hurry."

"Besides that, we don't want Esther leaving before I can tell her everything."

"Those other two, the twins, they're really Helena's children?"

"I think so. I hope they made it back in time to see her." And I needed to ask her questions about Leah's mark.

We sped up, and I wondered if she was as reluctant as I was to see Esther leave before I could explain.

There were footsteps behind us, heavy steps that made my heart race. I couldn't concentrate long enough to check it out, so I resorted to counting loudly, ignoring Val's astonished looks.

"I can hear someone," I said once I had calmed enough to reach out with my other senses. "But I can't see them."

"We should run."

She took off before I could respond, and the footsteps sped up, too. Scared out of my mind of what could be out there, I raced after her, but a roar stopped me in my tracks.

I turned slowly to see a creature behind me. Its head reached the ceiling, and its shoulders were almost the width of the passageway. It was vile and ugly, with a ridiculous overbite that dripped with what was, with my luck, venom, and its clawed hands were bigger than my head. Its shoulders had bunched up, almost the way a dog hunches its back, and it came at me faster than it looked. I ducked out of the way of one of the hammer fists, and it smashed the wall with one strike. Horrified, I rolled under its legs, jumping up to stab it in the back, but my blade might as well have been a toothpick.

I had to duck another blow, then Val came back, swinging her hammer. The creature roared again, whirling its body around and bashing into the wall in an attempt to get her. I climbed up onto its back and stabbed my dagger into its eye socket.

It howled, thrashing wildly, but I didn't have to stab the other eye because Val gutted him with a broad sword she had been carrying on her back. With a grunt, she released the blade, and the creature tumbled to the floor, with me still on its back. I jumped out of the way as it shrank into a human-sized being.

"That," Val said, wiping her blade on its clothing, "was an old-blooded hell hound. Now let's run before they send another."

By the time we heard another set of footsteps, we were at the end of the corridor. I had the door up, and we were through it before I could catch a glimpse of whatever was coming for us. I held my breath until the new doorway vanished behind me. The howl of a hell hound faded away, but not as quickly as I would have liked. How many beings could open doors?

Val shook my hand with her large, somewhat bloody one, a triumphant smile on her face.

She hollered a greeting, and figures came from the shadows to meet us. Folsom scurried over, his face still pale with worry. "We thought you were gone."

"Ava?" Lorcan strode over and pulled me into an embrace. "You're okay." It felt great to hear his Liverpudlian accent once again.

"'Course I am," I scoffed, but I was still shaking.

Lucia gripped my fingers, but she didn't send any images my way, and for that, I was grateful. It took me a few minutes to take in the sadness on Lorcan's and Lucia's expressions.

"What happened?"

"We saw our mother," Lorcan said. "But she passed on shortly afterward. You've been gone all night."

"I'm so sorry."

"It was a peaceful passing," he said. "But thank you for making sure we met once more before she let go of this world."

I glanced around, missing a face. "Where's Esther?"

"Gone," Cam announced as he swaggered over to us. "She's gone straight to the Council to tell them we're here."

"Bullshit," I said.

"She had to tell them what she saw in England," Lorcan insisted.

"What would you know, mongrel?" Cam said nastily.

The black girl stepped between them. "That's enough, Cam."

Lorcan stared at her sort of adoringly.

"I should go find Esther then," I said. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Well, I think I'll shower first."

Lucia wrinkled her nose at my words.

"You two, please stay here, okay? You'll be safe. Don't listen to angel boy over there. Esther would never let anyone hurt you."

"Oh, I agree with you," Lorcan said. "She came to get us out of there, but she was hurt, and they soon surrounded us. It's madness over there. We have so much to tell you."

"I'm sure I'll hear all about it. I know I can trust her. I can feel it. I'm kind of like an empath," I explained, hoping they would understand.

"You're no empath," Cam said, following me to the exit. "You're a catalyst. And that's what makes you so dangerous. Some day, someone could use you to end the world. You could never choose to create that much damage. You echo. You project. You exaggerate what's already there. But you are no empath, girl."

"Why would I believe you?"

"Leah!" he called. "Come here for a moment."

Leah strolled over, eating an apple. She was thin and weedy, but there was a new maturity in her eyes.

"I've told our new friend here that she's a catalyst. Am I lying?"

She looked me over before shaking her head. "No lie. You're a medium for power really." She frowned. "I wonder what we could do together."

"Don't give her ideas," Cam said, laughing.

"I don't even know what that means," I said, frustrated.

"It means you can be used for a lot of fancy tricks, but alone, you're pretty useless."

"I wouldn't say useless," Leah said softly.

He waved a hand. "I would. Someone's been filling her head with pretty little lies."

"It wouldn't surprise me." I thought about it. "But what does it mean?"

"It means people can use you to get what they want. It means you're dangerous to have around. It means you're worth a lot of money." He grinned. "But still, you're useless."

"How can I tell what they're feeling then? How do I sense it?"

"Hormones, pheromones, sweat. You've a good sense of smell, so you use it. There's nothing magical about that."

"What about the healing? After I drink blood, I can heal minor wounds," I said eagerly.

He made a face. "The blood heals you first, sorts out those repairing cells. You project the process in a bigger way. Simple explanation."

I thought about Lucia, how she sent me her images. More projection. And Eddie. Had I protected myself from his soul-fuelled attacks by stealing a little of it for myself? The idea made my cheeks burn with shame. Maybe Cam was right.

"So that's why nobody really wants me alive, but they all pitch a fit at the idea of me working for the other side?"

Cam nodded. "Creatures like you can be an unfair advantage; put it that way."

"Am I ever going to reach the point where someone doesn't tell me I'm wrong about everything I think I know?" I asked.

"Welcome," he said, laughing softly. "You're doing all of these things, but it's not happening in the way you think it is, that's all. It's not life-changing."

"You have your own strengths," Leah said, but Cam ignored her.

"What about the other stuff? Finding people and stuff? I do things on my own all of the time."

"You're a hunter," he said after a minute. "Or at least, a mixture of hunter and warrior. You can sense things better than most, but there has to be something calling to you in order for you to do it. The astral projection and opening gates, amongst other things, are truly gifts, or rather curses, of your blood, but you use them in a different way than a true nephal or vampire would." He hesitated. "You should be more careful who you trust. After all, anyone can use you to project their own gifts. Anyone can give you their power temporarily without you even knowing it. That could be dangerous."

That would be interesting, if I could figure out how to work it to my advantage somehow. "That might actually come in handy. Thanks."

He shrugged. "You might as well understand what you can do. It makes me wonder why you don't know the truth about everything. It makes me think that there are people in your life who would use you without your knowledge."

"I don't doubt that," I said bitterly, and he nodded as if understanding. Things that Mrs. Yaga had told me now made more sense. She said I was like her, that people would use me to get what they needed. Was she a catalyst, too? What did that really mean, anyway?

"I should go," I said, feeling awkward that Cam had suddenly become a huge source of information. I only believed him because Leah had backed up his claims. My automatic trust in Leah had me wondering, too.

Cam regarded me for a couple of seconds. "Stay safe. They'll need you."

He walked away, and Leah touched my arm. "Don't let anyone take you, Ava. You're much more dangerous than me in the wrong hands."

Outside, it was dark again, and I was disoriented when I tried to figure out how long exactly I had been in Hell. That sounded weird, even for me.

A car was waiting outside Folsom's home. Yvonne rolled down the window. "Get in," she said, rolling it back up before I could respond. So why was she still working for Daimhín? We had Emmett back already.

I got into the car and found myself surrounded. "I don't have time for work right now."

"You stink of death," Daimhín said. "Perhaps you aren't as dull as I have suspected."

I glared at her. "Hilarious. Not to question the boss or anything, but why are you even here?"

She smoothed imaginary wrinkles on her trousers with her palms, her way of keeping herself calm, I had learned. "There's an urgent meeting going on as we speak. Our attendance is a necessity. Eloise said we needed you, that you'd be here, of all places. Have you been making friends with our creditors?"

"I was about to go shower," I muttered. "What's the meeting about?"

"Everything. The shifter has returned somehow. She called the meeting. Her brother backed her up, then Koda and Gabe. You know how it goes. We need to be there; it affects us."

The driver drove faster than usual, and we made it to the meeting place pretty quickly. When we stepped into the room, I was surprised to see just how many beings were attending. Esther was up front, looking as done up as always. When she saw me, she gave a little shriek, interrupting her brother's speech, and limped toward me.

"We need to talk, and quick," I whispered.

"We'll be back," Esther called out, leading me outside the room.

"Half of them are going to be listening anyway," she said with a careless sigh.

"Esther. Do you understand what happened before? How little you need to say?"

She gripped my hands and nodded vehemently. "What are you on about? I'm going to say exactly what happened over there."

Her wink reassured me, but I figured we needed to be on the same page. I hoped I wouldn't be asked any questions I couldn't answer, or worse, that I wouldn't inadvertently give an answer that directly contradicted Esther's.

She led me back inside, ignoring her older brother's glare. Aiden sent hate vibes my way, but all I could see was Coyle, the demon Guardian who never failed to chill me to the bone. Strangely, he was avoiding my gaze, and I realised that I hadn't felt any sign of shadows near me since I threatened him. Whether that meant I should worry or relax remained to be seen.

"I'd like to hear what happened directly from Esther," Fionnuala said, perched on a stool at the front of the room. Her long blond hair flowed out in a non-existent breeze, and I remembered she was a weather-warden, a fae whose magic mostly stemmed from nature. She was strong enough to be involved in the market, in all sorts of things, but would she smear her snow-white reputation? She had created a similar sort of shroud around the trial area as the twins' father had on the Féinics. I wished I could risk asking her about that.

Koda knelt next to Fionnuala, his translucent appearance making me blink. He looked so ill that I couldn't believe he had anything to do with the market. But it was so easy to be wrong in that world.

Gabe and Erossi sat on comfortable chairs behind Koda and Fionnuala. Both had hard expressions, an arrogance that said they were better than everyone else. I didn't trust Gabe, yet I kept turning to him. He had known my mother, was of a similar kind to her, and he gave the appearance of doing the right thing, but who knew what he was capable of? He hadn't even told me the truth about myself. Cam, an angel I barely knew, had. But maybe Cam had his own reasons for that, too.

I could well believe anything negative of Erossi, but I wasn't sure he had the smarts to pull off such a scheme. His ego was too big to keep his antics hidden, I reckoned. Also, he was a runner-in on the Council in the grand scheme of things. He had replaced Eddie, who lost his seat when he disgraced himself somehow. The market had probably been going on for a very long time. And that could implicate Koda, Fionnuala, or even Eddie Brogan.

I turned my gaze to the Consultants: Eddie, the Keeper of Knowledge and Watcher of Sleeping Gods, aka he who steals souls; Aiden, Head Guardian and Shifter Alpha; Reuben, vampire ancient and virgin-blood drinker; Elathan, a dark-eyed demon I hadn't actually met; and the witch, who looked very different from the first time I had seen her. The witch brimmed with power and dealt in black magic. The witch had also been spending a lot of private time with Eddie.

I took a seat behind Daimhín's crowd and watched Esther move toward her brother. Sitting next to him, she spoke clearly, and everyone listened. She was young and pretty, and people underestimated her, but her bear form was ferocious, and her older alpha brother made sure people gave her attention and respect.

"I went to England a couple of days before the others. As planned, I headed to Liverpool to join them. I never saw them there, and I believe they were murdered. I made contact with two vampire slaves who filled me in on what's been happening. The BVA were outraged that nominations took place without them. They returned early, and from what I heard, murdered the recent members of the Committee in front of an audience to make a point."

A lot of murmuring followed.

Esther held up her hand. "There is no longer a Committee in the UK. I tried to check out the situation, but I was attacked by vampires. I barely made it away, and I was protected by the slaves I already mentioned. They risked their lives to care for me, and I name them friends of the pack and under our protection."

Aiden didn't seem surprised, and I wondered whose idea that had been. Once spoken, it couldn't be undone; that was the pack's way, apparently.

"There's open fighting in the streets. Humans are being dragged from their homes and drained publicly. Alliances are being made, and it sounds as though the tides are turning against any fae over there in particular. I haven't discovered who the UK vampires have allied with, but as soon as they take full control there, I am certain they will move here next."

Koda glanced at Daimhín. "Can we depend on you?"

"I haven't allied myself with anyone. Not even you, Koda. Winston hasn't contacted me directly, but it's been made clear that I ally with him or die."

"Ally with him, and you _will_ die," Erossi snapped.

"I have a few secret weapons," she said with a lazy smile. "I will do what's best for my coven first and foremost. The rest of the vampire clans will follow; I've seen to that. Of course, if you wish to use my seer, I'm sure we can work out some kind of mutually beneficial deal."

Erossi's nostrils flared with anger. Daimhín had them by the balls because they needed the seer to get them ahead.

"Instead of waiting around," the witch said suddenly, distracting everyone, "we should attack. I belong to a strong coven of witches who would be willing to take drastic measures to protect our country."

"Marina, what do you propose?" Koda asked.

"Destroy the island itself," she said with a queer smile. A shiver ran down my spine.

"You mean kill everyone, including millions of innocent people," I said, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer.

She gave me a hateful look. "I mean protect _our_ people, by any means possible."

"Bullshit," I said. "If they come, we fight, but we have enough trouble here without asking for more. Murdering innocents... what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Normally, I would be inclined to agree with you, but they outnumber us," Koda said.

"So? You think they're going to send every single body over here to fight us? No. Despite their numbers, they can't afford to divide the protection so drastically. They think we're useless, and in fairness, right now they're correct about that. Point is, they think so little of us that they'll likely send a few people over, threaten us a couple of times, yada yada yada. They aren't going to launch a full-scale attack when they still have to control their own country. The people they killed have others behind them. They aren't going to lie down without putting up a fight. No, they aren't going to come for us in huge numbers."

I stood up. "But if they did decide to attack, they would do something like, oh, I don't know, create an entire army of beasts and send them over here. But of course, you've all been dealing with the formula situation, right? Couldn't be possible if you've actually done what you were supposed to do."

I sat back down, breathless, and the room erupted into arguments, accusations, and more. Everyone turned on each other within seconds. Fionnuala had to send a blast of wind around the room to get them to settle down again. Daimhín's hidden smile barely concealed her pleasure.

"Instigator," Fionnuala hissed at me.

"Because I'm honest?" I asked. "There's more than one seer out there, and I've been told what the vampires are up to. I'm warning you all, like I've warned you before, but as always, you aren't going to listen."

"What seer?" Gabe asked, his voice less harsh than usual, and everyone else quietened to listen to us.

"One under protection," I said. "One who might be persuaded to help, as long as a few promises are made first."

"She's as bad as Daimhín," Erossi said.

The vampire queen snarled, but I knew her displeasure was focused on me.

"I can get to the slave market," I said. "But I need more people to get the children out of there safely. I need help arresting everyone involved, so we can find out who exactly is in charge of it."

"Why would we involve ourselves in that?" Marina asked scornfully. "Give up our fighters for a lost cause? Idiotic."

"Because it's the right thing to do," I said. "There are children down there. Innocent people. And the goodwill bonus would be worth it," I added hastily, still hoping to persuade Fionnuala and Koda.

"I'll go with you," Esther said, winking at me.

"How can we even be sure she can find her way to the market?" Fionnuala said. "What if she's leading our people into danger?"

"It _is_ dangerous," I said. "The market's in hell."

Again, control was lost in the room. All kinds of accusations and protests mingled with the greater good comments. What if I was leading them to their deaths purposely? What if I opened the gates to let something out? What if the children themselves were more dangerous than the beings who had taken them in the first place?

While everyone argued, Gabe confronted me privately. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"No. But it's worth a shot. The whole point of being a leader is protecting your people. That means everyone, even the weakest. Nobody gets left behind. That's what your Guardians say, right? Well, that's how it should be. We're all a part of this country, and if the shit really does hit the fan, we'll need everyone we can get to join the fight."

He nodded, and I could see he was taking my words under consideration for a change.

"And I told you to take the formula situation seriously," I scolded as we watched people argue vehemently.

"I know." He sighed. "Old rules make bad decisions in a modern world."

"So change it. Do something good."

"When I do, I'll be gone. I'll leave them all to their own devices. And then where would you be?"

I stared at him, but I couldn't get any idea of what he was really thinking.

Once Fionnuala got everyone settled again, opinions remained divided.

"We can't go to Hell," Fionnuala said. "It's too dangerous. How do you even know you can find the way?"

"She found me," Esther said. "She can do it. I still volunteer, and I encourage Guardians and shifters alike to join me."

"But the beings down there are just half-breeds," Erossi said. "Either they're not useful, or they have power that could harm us all. Better to let them rot."

"Hold on," I said, fury burning through my veins. "They're children. And you really think it's better to let a child with power be bought by something evil? To be trained to do bad things? Because that's what they're learning down there. To hate and hurt. They're taken away from their families, they lose their names, and they lose their sense of worth. The only thing keeping most of us on the right track is what we have to do for the greater good. They have no sense of that. They have nobody to do it for. There's power in a stolen child. And it's about time we were seen to make a stand."

Gabe stood. "I'm on her side. She's right. She's always been right." He sounded so weary that I almost felt sorry for him.

Koda agreed with Gabe. "I'd like to see this happen before I pass on."

Erossi refused. Marina refused. Aiden stood next to his sister, but he didn't look happy about it. Coyle stood with him, to my surprise. Or maybe he needed to be there to make sure we didn't figure out who was really in charge. It wouldn't have surprised me if I found out he was heavily involved in the slave market.

Esther's Guardian circle volunteered to accompany me. Random people spoke out in favour, and before long, the room was buzzing with excitement.

"I still have a few rules," I said. "I have someone who will guide the way, but I need assurances that she will not be harmed afterward. She needs protection, too."

"Protection from who?" Koda asked.

"Uh, the Council," I admitted. "She's pretty much outlawed right now. But it's through no fault of her own. Or, at least, not all of her own fault, so I'll need any possible charges against her dropped."

Fionnuala swore under her breath, and a strange heat rose from the ground.

I carried on hurriedly. "Also, I decide who stands with me in the leading attack. We'll need others to tend to the children afterward. The children cannot be taken into the cells, especially not if that's where their captors will be. Some of the bodyguards are innocent. I don't want any deaths to come out of this."

"You ask too much." Fionnuala's agitation was obvious.

"No, I don't. I don't ask enough. The people down there were most likely raised in the market. They don't have a say in what they're doing. We need them to talk so we can get to the top of the chain. It's the only way."

"We'll discuss it amongst ourselves," Fionnuala replied. "But it must happen as efficiently as possible. There will be a plan of attack, and you will not be in charge of my people. I don't trust you, and I fear you're leading us into a battle we cannot win."

"And what of the war in the UK?" Esther asked, distracting everyone before people could start backing out because of Fionnuala's words.

"We'll meet again. I tire of this." Fionnuala left the room abruptly, and the numbers dwindled until there were just a few of us left.

"I need to get back," I told Esther as Eddie approached me. He had been conspicuously silent throughout the proceedings.

"I'm proud of you," Eddie said before I could leave. "You're making the first step toward change. I'm excited to see how you will disrupt the Council in future. Perhaps when the vampires come, you can repay me one of those many favours you owe me."

I gulped as he walked away, feeling as though he had just physically marked me. Maybe the vampires would never come. Maybe I would wriggle out of his grasp.

Esther went home to heal herself fully, and I slipped away before Gabe or Aiden or anyone else could pull me into an argument. I headed back to Folsom's place, knowing full well I was being watched. I couldn't stop my hands from shaking, from exhilaration, fear, and doubt. I had given away a lot of secrets in an effort to make my first real deal with the Council. And if they succeeded in fulfilling their part, what would come next? Could I even persuade Lucia to help the Council? There was only one way to find out.

I was back in the Féinics before I knew it, expectant faces all around me. I relayed what had happened as clearly as possible, hoping they wouldn't judge me too harshly.

"So that's the deal," I said, looking at the twins and Val. "I didn't mention Leah at all, but I asked for protection for the twins and Val. It's easier that way. I don't want Leah to end up in a cell again. Are you willing to give them info on the BVA, Lucia? Or is that too much?"

She glanced at Lorcan, gripping his hand tightly.

"She'll do it," he said. "If it means the market will disappear."

"What if it springs up again?" Folsom asked. "Somewhere else?"

"Weeds grow. We have to keep pulling them out and throwing them away," I said firmly. "No giving up. This is just the first step. If we can find out who's in charge, it will make everything easier."

"But what if it's one of the Council?" he persisted. "What then? We can't fight them."

"We can do this one thing. The children are the most important point right now. After that, we deal with whatever else comes along. You can go live your lives if you like, but I'm in this for the long haul."

We agreed to meet again and soon. I just wanted to go home and shower. I didn't say a word to Peter or Carl when I got home. I refused to hug Emmett. I scrubbed myself for half an hour to get dried hell hound blood out from under my fingernails. It was vile, putrid stuff, thicker than normal blood.

I stayed under the water for longer, just thinking about what had happened. It seemed surreal once I was back home. I had Val, a part-hell hound warrior, Lucia, a seer, and Esther, a werebear. I had to depend on all three in very different ways, but depend on them all the same. We were about to fight a big fight, and even bigger ones might be coming. Still, the reluctance of the Council to defend their own rattled me most. They were willing to sacrifice their own people to ignore a problem. Worse was the fact they were willing to destroy an entire nation of people, all to ensure the deaths of a couple of their targets.

These were the people I was connected to. These were the people I worked for. What did that make me?

# Chapter Twenty-One

"Apparently, they made it back right before Helena died," I said, taking a deep breath and looking at my friends for the first time since I began relaying what had been happening. My head was a whirlwind of confusion and disaster, as everything new I had learned jumbled with the old news.

Carl shook his head. "That's sad."

"At least she got to see them again. I think she was trying to hold on, just in case. So now I'm going to wait and see if they'll help me."

"You don't think they'll keep to their word?" Peter asked.

"It's not that. It's just that this is their first taste of freedom, or at least, it will be when they actually leave Folsom's place. They still have to get over being reunited with, and then losing, their mother, and they're in a place a fae who was likely their father managed to create. I'm not going to get on their backs about it."

Peter frowned. "Maybe you need to remind them what the cost is."

"I'm letting them mourn, Peter," I said, surprised by his coldness.

"I know. But the Council is going to form a group soon. You need to be ready to find the slave markets. You need to be ready for everything."

"I'll figure out a way. With or without them. I _have_ to do it. They don't."

"You made a deal," Peter began, but Emmett and Dita trooped in, defusing the tension.

"You two doing okay?" Carl asked, ruffling Emmett's hair.

"Just getting a drink." Emmett led Dita into the kitchen.

Carl laughed abruptly.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"They look like a miniature version of you two. Him leading the way, her trotting after him."

I stared at Carl for a few seconds in amazement. His laughter died away, and he cleared his throat.

"I'm going for a walk," I said. What a dick, I thought.

Yvonne arrived as I was leaving. We both kind of stood there looking at each other for an awkward moment.

"I want to see my nephew." She tried to brush past me.

I caught her arm, and she shrugged me off indignantly.

"I have a right to see him."

"Why are you still working for Daimhín?" The question had been burning for a while now.

"I don't know, because I like it? Maybe the pay is good."

"She knew he was back, and she didn't even tell you."

Her eyes narrowed, and I saw something in her that I had seen in Peter many a time—a thirst for revenge. She made a show of buttoning her coat and smoothing her perfectly blow-dried brown hair.

"Why would a queen even think of something like that?" she asked primly.

"Don't do anything stupid," I said before turning abruptly to leave.

I only intended to stretch my legs, but Yvonne's presence at my home called for my absence, and I found myself heading toward my grandmother's house. She wasn't there, so it didn't matter, but I called her at the hotel and asked her what kinds of things she needed from home. She rattled off a list as though she had expected my call.

The neighbourhood hadn't changed much over the years. More mature families, maybe, and once again, I wondered how I had hidden in full view for so long. Leah was running around everywhere, ducking her head to escape attention, while I acted like a normal kid in many ways. The more I thought about it, the more I realised someone had helped hide me. There was no way an ordinary woman could have kept me hidden.

I should have gone to the twins. Peter was right. It was better for everyone if they remained firm in their desire to end the market. I didn't fear them backing out, but if they did, I would respect their decision because I cared about them. But the more I cared, the harder decisions became. I felt as though I were being torn in several different directions, but if I had to pick one thing I wanted to do, it would be to join Emmett and Dita in my back garden to forget about everything else.

I still hadn't thought about what would happen if war really did break out, or if the vampires really did unleash an army of beasts on us. Could we even come away with a chance? For all my bravado, I knew we were severely under-armed. Our country was too separated, too unwilling to help each other for nothing because of a few old deals and loyalties and betrayals.

I hesitated outside my grandmother's house, breathing heavily as I prepared myself. Anyone could have been there, watching and waiting, but really, I was more concerned with the memories her house always unleashed in me.

I moved around the rooms quickly, feeling like a child all of a sudden, trying to find everything in as little time as possible. But then I found something important.

Looking under her bed for a pair of shoes, I pulled out a box. Inside was some paperwork, a forged birth certificate for me, for one. But at the bottom, peeking out as if it wanted me to see it, was an old photograph. Two figures were standing next to each other, a man and woman. My parents, I realised with a sudden pang. I couldn't breathe, and my eyes watered, making the picture swim before me. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head. Nancy had told me she didn't have any pictures of my mother, so it was a huge shock.

I could only see the side of my mother's face because she was staring up at my father and laughing, but she was beautiful. My father, the plainer of the two, looked as though he couldn't believe his luck, and in his eyes was a look of pure adoration. I didn't resemble either of them, the only obvious similarity being my mother's impossibly red hair. When I squinted, I thought his eye colour might be a similar blue to mine, but other than that, I didn't recognise them. There was nothing familiar about them at all.

Closing my eyes tight, I tried to imagine them with a child, and I couldn't. I couldn't place them as my parents. I ached inside for what I had lost. Something I never had. Something I would never have. No matter what I did, I would never know them.

Two people in my life knew them. Gabe had already told me everything he could about my mother, but there was still my father. The importance of parentage seemed to be weighing heavily on me of late, and I realised I had never really asked about my father. Maybe because he was human, maybe because I assumed he would be like my grandmother, but she could tell me things... tell me what she remembered of him.

I quickly put everything Nancy wanted in a bag and shoved the photo into my pocket. I spent the journey to the hotel trying to pluck up some courage to ask her questions about things that would obviously cause me some kind of pain. But maybe I had to know, to understand who I was, to understand who I could be.

I sat with Nancy for at least ten minutes, trying to figure out how to handle my questions for her. Her knitting grew agitated, and I knew she was waiting for me to speak and worrying about what I might say.

In the end, I showed her the photo and watched as the knitting needles trembled in her hands.

"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" she said after a few minutes, pushing the photo aside.

"Tell me about them," I pleaded.

"I didn't know much about her, Ava."

"Him, then. He was your son. My father. Surely you can tell me something about him."

The knitting slowed, but I feared she might never speak and the moment would be lost forever.

Finally, she set the knitting aside and looked at me with determined eyes. "Yes. I'm sure I can. It's... he... I'm not sure where to start."

"Take your time then."

She stared out the window at the river, a shiver running through her. "I never talk about him. Never. Sometimes I forget. What he looked like, what he liked to eat. Sometimes I forget he's gone and call out for him. It's strange. Sometimes I feel like he really is still around, still hovering the way he used to."

She smiled and sat back, her face brightening. "He wasn't the smartest boy, but he was so polite that it was impossible not to feel proud of him. He volunteered at a dog rescue, walked dogs because I wouldn't let him take any of them home with him. For most of his life, it was just me and him." Her face hardened. "Until _she_ came along."

"Nancy," I warned.

She waved her hand. "He liked to do the right thing. He had all of these ideas about doing good in the world, leaving his mark by changing lives in some way. He was the boy who got a black eye defending a smaller child from a bully, even though he was small himself. I couldn't tell you how many times he would come home with a boy in the year above him at school, one who was neglected at home, just to share his dinner. Little things that nobody else noticed. He had this way of helping without you realising what he was doing until it was over. I liked that about him. I thought he should get more credit for his actions, but that's the way he was, on the sidelines, never expecting a thank you."

"I think... I think I would have liked him," I said, hesitantly.

"You're just like him," she said, surprising me. "You make this face that's exactly like him. Something about the eyes, or some kind of facial expression. I'm not sure what it is, but it's like waking up to a memory. Sometimes, it would chill me, especially when you would be a reminder of her two seconds later. It was like they were haunting me. The pair of them."

She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "But you would have acted like him had I let you. You would eat half of your dinner and sneak the rest outside to feed the wild kittens, thinking I didn't notice. Do you remember the time you knocked a child unconscious?"

I shrugged. "Vaguely." The punishments had been a tad harsh.

"It all started because a group of children picked on one. You had to get in the way. You've never changed, have you? Always sticking up for the underdog. You're your father's child in that way."

"Then why did you hate me if I was so like him?"

"You were too like _her_ ," she said nastily, and I knew it was time to go. I had asked my questions, gotten some answers, and for the first time, I had an actual photograph of both of my parents together. It wasn't a good picture, but it would do.

For me. For now.

# Chapter Twenty-Two

The waiting was the worst part, waiting for news, waiting for other people to make decisions. Carl and Peter were slowly growing stir-crazy staying with me for so long. I didn't blame them. Part of me was desperate for them to leave. Gabe had been ringing me seemingly incessantly, asking question after question, and by the stress in his voice, I knew he was doing his best to make the idea of finding the market work.

Four extremely long days later, Gabe called me to an informal meeting at his bar. Everything happened at his bar, it seemed. Maybe because it was on such neutral ground.

I was surprised to see Aiden there, his face as stern as usual when he caught sight of me. Esther was beside him, but her expression gave nothing away. The four of us sat around a table in the empty bar, distrust and suspicion ripe in the air.

"There have been a lot of discussions over the past few days," Gabe said. "The Council have decided to help, as long as you stick to your word. The decision wasn't unanimous, so my only advice to you is to beware."

"And the protection?"

"The hell hound's pup will be protected," Gabe said. "As will your seer."

"The seer is a double act," I said.

"Esther already offered our protection to them," Aiden replied, barely controlling his rage. "That should be enough. Don't you realise how insulting you are?"

Shrugging, I kept my gaze on Gabe. "I trust Esther. But she isn't alpha, is she?"

Aiden stood abruptly, but Esther pulled him back down. "Enough," she said. "This is about doing some good, not moping over dented egos." She looked back at me. "If we call them friends, it's enough."

Aiden closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was noticeably calmer. "We'll take the shifter into our pack. That's more than enough."

"I don't know about—" I began.

"This is the way it'll be," he said quietly, and I knew he meant it.

"She won't be part of your pack," I said. "She has responsibilities of her own. Promises of her own. Deals of her own."

"It's not a big deal," Esther said.

"And if she's not of the pack, she will be arrested as soon as I lay eyes on her," Aiden added.

"That's unfair. The people down there—"

"We know. They know no better. It's a tough world." But he had pity in his eyes for a split second.

I glanced at Gabe, but he said nothing. "I can't guarantee she'll lead the way if we put demands on her," I tried.

"Then innocent children will suffer," Gabe said. "It's your call, Ava."

"It's _not_ my call," I protested. "I can't make decisions for anyone else."

"I won't let anyone hurt her," Esther said.

"So what happens now?" I asked, defeated. I was tired, and if they thought I would play along with their little plans for the rest of my life, they had another think coming, but I would deal with it in my own time, when lives weren't at stake.

"We'll regroup on Saturday morning," Gabe said. "Where do you plan on opening the gate?"

I rubbed my eyes hard with my knuckles. "Um, the place where we had the trial turned out to be the easiest way. It's a pocket; I can open it up."

Gabe stiffened. "A pocket?"

"Yeah, the magic around it is the same as... where we were. The magic is sort of meant to steal a piece of another place, or allow it to shroud us, or something. I'm still not clear on it. In this case, it's Hell."

"And you say you were in another place like this?" There was something tight about Gabe's tone.

"Yeah. It's the only way I know that works. I know you talked about hotspots, but I'm wary of trying that when there are already some reliable pockets that I can use. Why? Can the person who created that one make another? Maybe in a less obvious location?"

Aiden cleared his throat. "The fae who worked that magic was Fionnuala's son. He was talented, but he can't help us now."

I squirmed in my seat, my heart racing. "What happened to him?"

"Fionnuala was training him to take over from her some day. But he disgraced himself, and he hasn't been heard of since," Gabe said, carefully watching me.

I was sure my face was burning red. Holy shit! Fionnuala was probably Lucia and Lorcan's grandmother. Did she even know?

"How did he disgrace himself?" I tried to look Gabe in the eye, but I couldn't. I knew he would see what was in my eyes. He always seemed to be able to read me.

"I've no idea," he said sharply. "Why are you so interested?"

I aimed for nonchalance. "Knowledge is power. Anyway, we meet up, I open the gate, and then what happens? I mean, if we find them. The children."

"If?" Aiden asked incredulously. "I thought finding them was a given."

"It's a tough world," I snapped, throwing his words back at him. "And things can change."

Esther nodded. "She's right. We have to be prepared for failure, too. Ava, there's a place organised for the children. Not the cells," she added hurriedly.

"We'll care for them, ask them questions, and see if we can find some use for any of them," Gabe said in an offhand way that made me want to punch him.

"What do you mean, _find some use_? They have families. They're missing children, you idiot. It's time for them to go home to the people who love them!"

"Is that what happened to you when your parents were murdered?" he asked.

I punched him.

He held his eye, the shock on his face the first genuine expression I had ever seen him wear.

Aiden pinned me to the floor before I even realised he had moved. His eyes were scarily black, and he held me down easily with one hand around my neck. So I kneed him in the balls. He gasped, loosening his grip, and I twisted out of his hand and jumped to my feet, kicking him in the arm for good measure.

I was spitting mad, unable to control the red before my eyes. My fangs were on display, and I didn't do a thing to stop them. I felt _inhuman_.

Aiden struggled to his feet, but Esther got between us, holding out her hands.

"That's enough! Both of you."

I nodded and turned my back, but Aiden leapt at me, knocking me to the ground. My cheek smacked against the floor. I swung back, elbowing him in the face, and he growled as if he had already shifted into the panther I had been told he turned into.

Things were about to get worse, but Gabe did the bright light thing that cooled everyone, mostly because we were writhing on the floor from pain. It had to be worse for the shifters than me, but they weren't long getting to their feet.

"This is ridiculous," Gabe said, but he was back to the robot mask.

"It's ridiculous to think you can steal children from kidnappers and keep them for yourself!" My temper rose again. What were they thinking?

"How can we send them back to humans?" Gabe asked. "Think about it. As soon as the market starts up again—and it will, you must realise this—they'll be right back where they started. More kidnappings and murders. We'll keep them safe."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You'll raise them to do your bidding. The next generation of loyal Guardians. You look down on humans, but they're so much better than you all." I walked away before I hit someone again.

"Will you be there on Saturday?" Gabe called after me.

"I'll be there," I said without turning. "But you'll regret this, I promise you." I hesitated. "One day."

I headed straight back to Folsom's place to fill everyone in, knowing nobody could follow me into the hiding place without an invitation. I walked in to see Lorcan talking to the girl who had been with the angel a lot, and she turned to me with a smile. Her skin was as dark as Lorcan's was light, and the pair looked curiously balanced together.

"We haven't really been introduced," she said. "I'm Kate."

"Ava. Can you round up everyone? I need to talk to them all."

Looking surprised, she scurried off, leaving me with Lorcan.

"You doing okay?" I asked him.

To my surprise, he hugged me. "Thank you for letting us say goodbye to her." He pulled up my sleeves to see the damage his deal had done. "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do about this."

"It's fine. Lucia doing okay?"

"She seems better here. Happier. You seem angry though."

I nodded. "I am, pretty much. Every time I fix something, I seem to create something worse."

Folsom approached from behind me. "I saw you from my window."

"Are you really rebels?" I asked. "Is there really something like that going on? Could you do something about the Council? Rise up against them? Stop them?"

"It's better for you if you don't know everything," he started, but we were interrupted by everyone gathering around. Not all of them showed up, but I figured the ones who did were interested enough to actually listen to me.

"So it's not over," I said when I finished relaying what had happened in Gabe's bar. "At least, not for me. The Council can't be trusted, so I'm warning anyone who is offered protection, say no. Actually, say yes, and then hide as soon as you can."

"In their pack, I would be the lowest of the low," Val said. "Besides, I'm no shifter, and Leah needs me. I swore an oath, and I'll keep it."

Lucia inched toward Val, her eyes glittering in obvious admiration.

"But Val," Leah said, "you'll be free."

"No, I won't," she said firmly. "You heard Ava. We can't trust those people. They want to steal the children for themselves. We aren't going to help them do that."

I cleared my throat. "Actually, we are."

Raised voices shouted obscenities at me, and I felt the tension ratchet up a notch.

"Wait," I said. "Let me explain. Closing down the market is a good thing. And the children don't have to stay with the Council forever. After all, nothing lasts forever. Not even the Council." The silence was ominous, and I wondered if I had taken a step too far.

Folsom raised his hand. "She could be the face of this. People would look to her and want to join us."

"Can we trust her?" someone asked.

"We're not ready for this," another said. "We're too few in number."

Lucia stepped toward Lorcan, pulling her freaky twin show in front of everyone. They all watched in awe as she gripped her brother's hands, her fingers pinching into his pale skin as their eyeballs moved rapidly from side to side. It lasted longer than usual, and when it was done, Lorcan's fingers were bleeding.

"It's a long hard road ahead, but it can be done. And she can be trusted." Lorcan nodded at me, and as I looked around the room, I saw that people were prepared to listen to him. Whether it was the fact that Lucia could see things others couldn't, or just loyalty toward Helena, or maybe even the fae who had fathered them, it didn't really matter. They had power. They were slaves no longer.

I desperately wanted to talk to him about Fionnuala and her mysterious son, but I had no facts, only guesswork, and it would be a shame to give him another parent only to take her away.

"Let's deal with one issue at a time," Val said. "Closing the market is our first priority."

"Betraying the Council is pure folly," Cam said lazily. We all turned to see him lounging in a chair.

"You said yourself they're blackened," Kate protested.

He waved her concerns away. "What we think about them and what we should do about it are two very different things. I'll help with the market for my own reasons, but I won't take on the Council. Nobody can take on the Council. Look who has the power. I wouldn't dare go up against Fionnuala alone, never mind with the rest of the Council behind her. And the Guardians? Their numbers might be low, but when the vampires attack, they'll be the ones protecting us. Do you really think the people will let us kill their protection?"

That put a damper on the excitement. The crowd seemed to dissipate before my eyes.

"This place won't be safe anymore," I warned Folsom. "I've been here too many times. Val will be seen leaving here. They'll stop you from coming back and do something to keep you from bringing food."

"We can take care of that," Lorcan announced.

"No," I said. "Stay here and be safe."

"They expect our assistance," he said.

"Right, and I'll take the punishment, but I didn't get you out of the UK so you could come here and serve another master. Stay hidden."

Lucia shook her head vehemently, then took my hand. I caught a brief glimpse of Val lying wounded in a dark place, but the image was blurry and uncertain.

"I'll stop it," I whispered, but she refused to let go of my hands until I agreed to think about it.

At home, Emmett begged me not to leave. "You won't come back from there," he whispered. "Nobody comes back from the dark, Ava."

"You did." I tried to sound confident. "I come from the light and the dark. I can handle either of them, and probably fight with both. I'll be with a lot of people. Nobody is going to get hurt this time."

"What about the others? The ones like me?"

"They'll... I'll figure something out to keep them safe. I'm going to do the best I can."

"Maeve came back today," he said. "She says Eddie's angry with you, that he's given up on you. He's trying to find another."

"Another what?"

"Another you."

My heart chilled, but I put on a shaky smile. "Hey, after this is over, how about you and me go sightseeing? I'll show you everything you've missed."

That seemed to cheer him up, but I couldn't shake what he had told me. What did it even mean? I needed to get Eddie back on my side if I was going up against the Council, if only to stop him from influencing someone who might be like me.

Peter and Carl were annoyed about being left out of the latest fight, and both were speechless when I explained what exactly had happened.

"Why am I even surprised?" Peter asked. "Emmett could have been one of them, and I would have never known." He choked up a little, turning away from us.

I reached out for his hand, and he let me take it. He let me share his pain, and I knew how to comfort him. It was a breakthrough for both of us. Carl watched with sad eyes as Peter leaned into me. I felt every ounce of Peter's pain because it was righteous. It was the way we should have been feeling. The Council had no right, and they had to go. How was another story.

"What did Esther say?" Carl asked.

"She seemed to be getting with the programme." I shook my head. "They live in a different world, have a different mentality, all of them. They don't understand what it is to be human. If that angel really did tell my grandmother to make me hate evil, then he did a good job because I see it in them."

"Sometimes I think he intended you to hate humans," Carl said.

I looked up at him expectantly.

"Well, it was human suffering you went through. I mean, humans are the ones who hurt you. Makes me think he wanted to teach you to hate us rather than evil itself."

"That backfired," I said, snorting with laughter. I didn't tell them what Emmett had said. I saw no point in giving them something new to worry about. I probably should have stayed close to Eddie when I had the chance, but I didn't think even he would fail to see where my loyalties lay.

# Chapter Twenty-Three

Peter lent me his precious car, so I picked up Val and the twins and drove to the meeting point. Cam didn't come. I wasn't surprised, but I did feel a little disconcerted as we headed out to the starting point, the place where I would open the gates of Hell.

It occurred to me that what I was doing was scarily dangerous, but the children had to be worth the risk. I was already planning on taking bigger risks later.

"He does this all the time," Val said.

"What?"

"Cam. He backs out whenever he's needed."

Val fell silent, likely mentally preparing herself for a battle. Lorcan was edgy, but Lucia remained calm, and she was the one to watch. She could often see snippets of what was coming, of what might happen, and that might prove invaluable. Sometimes I wondered where the snippets came from because she often drew up images from the past as well, but whatever it was, she was good at it.

I had once found her creepy, but there was truly something angelic about her. I just hoped I hadn't brought them to a tougher prison.

"Stick with me down there," I said. "But Lorcan, keep Lucia out of the way of any fighting that might go on. Afterward, either stay with me or hide, but don't go willingly with anyone else. Let's not make it easy on the Council."

Val nodded her agreement. "And don't let any of them see how useful you are. Never agree to a deal. Just be extra careful."

"We survived so long around the vampires for a reason," Lorcan said. "There's no need to worry about us. Concentrate on the bigger problems."

There weren't enough people waiting for us. Our numbers reached thirty tops.

"This is it?" I asked nobody in particular.

"Not many were willing," Gabe said. "We need to begin as quickly as possible. This kind of gathering will set off alarm bells."

"Fine." I raised my voice. "If you don't keep up, you could get left behind. I'll try to hold open the gate until everyone gets through, but if there's trouble and something happens to me, you're all screwed, pretty much. When I open a door, I can't guarantee something won't come out after us, or that it won't close on top of me, so you'll need to deal with that, too."

Many shifted uncomfortably, but I ignored them and moved over to the heavy magic of the pocket. Val and the twins followed me.

"I don't like this," Gabe said, so close behind me that I felt his breath against my hair.

"Nobody does," I said. "But this is what has to happen. We could get lucky."

Lorcan trembled. "It feels so familiar. It feels like home."

"Let's worry about that later," I said in a low voice, hoping Gabe hadn't heard him. "I'm just trying to find a weak spot, and then I'll try to make the gate in the grass. We'll head down, hopefully, after everyone else. I'm the last one through. Then we'll push to the front and let Val lead the way. Like I said, Lorcan, any sign of danger and you pull Lucia back. She's not exactly good at staying out of the way."

Lucia grinned, but avoided touching me. I was grateful. I didn't want any knowledge of what we might see in Hell. My task was going to be difficult. I would have to open a number of gates, according to Val. I didn't know who was in the market, so I couldn't zone in on them properly, but with Val's help, we might move in the right direction until we found the way. I was counting on Cam's ideas about me being a catalyst and projecting to work with Val's connection to her old home.

I finally found a weak spot in the magic. "Are you all ready? It won't look like a door, but you have to trust me and push through it. It'll be disorienting, and there might be something waiting for us, so we need the strongest to go through first."

"What about your friend?" Coyle's voice curdled my blood. I wanted to vomit, but I stood tall, comforted by the presence of Val and the twins.

"She stays with me," I said without looking at him. I wasn't planning on letting the twins or Val out of my sight.

"I'll go first," Esther said, closely followed by Aiden. Gabe, surprisingly enough, offered to follow.

"If anyone wants to back out, now's the time," I said. "Once we're through, there's no turning back, not until we have the children safely with us. And even then, like I said before, no guarantees."

There were a few grumbles, but nobody left. That was heartening.

I knelt on the ground, feeling my way. Val laid her hand on my shoulder as I had suggested. I concentrated on the market, of what I had heard of it, and zoomed away from myself again. I moved through fire and a confusing mass of darkness and shadows until I came close to hearing children's voices, but I couldn't move any further. Something blocked me.

It was the best I could do, I realised, and I returned quickly. I concentrated on what I had seen until I felt something shift beneath my hands. I pushed myself through, past the veil, finding steps before me. I stayed halfway through the gate, keeping one hand on either side, one foot on the first step, one foot on the grass outside, and nodded at Esther. The ranks moved swiftly enough and without incident, aside from Coyle's evil leer that sent crawling spiders up my arms.

Val moved next, then the twins, and finally, I stepped through completely, letting the door close and trapping us all in Hell. I tried not to panic. Pushing to the front, I made sure Val and the twins followed close behind me.

"Am I far off, do you think?" I asked Val at the head of the line.

"Not too far," she said. "But farther than I expected. This is the outer level still, same as the place we moved through before. It's less protected, but it's a lot more enclosed. We'll need to move into the next level to find our way."

"Did I make the steps, or were they already there?" I wondered aloud.

"The places coexist," Gabe said. "You simply found a way to open up a gateway between the two. The worlds are all joined together, really, but there are very few connections between them." He glanced at the twins, holding his gaze on Lorcan's sword for a beat too long. "Or so I thought."

Val cleared her throat. "We'll have to walk a dangerous path, but we'll find ourselves there sooner rather than later. We could take a longer, safer path, but a lot of time would pass. Too much time, perhaps."

"We'll cut through," I decided. "There are enough of us to make a good go of it."

She nodded and stepped forward. "Follow me," she said loud enough for those at the back to hear. "Stay close and watch your backs. There are things in the walls and under your feet. There is no safe place here. The first part of our journey might be the easiest, but that doesn't make it safe."

We trudged after Val, and I was happy to see she didn't hesitate. If it seemed as though she didn't know where we were going, then we would most definitely be screwed. Hesitation meant weakness. Weakness meant trouble, especially in the dark, especially with Coyle around. He had probably only volunteered to make contact with his old crew. My money was so on him being involved with the market.

The first hour was quiet. Too quiet. We trudged silently in groups of three and four through thick, muddy substances. A weird gloomy light prevented the place from being pitch black, but it wasn't enough to call it bright. We moved down a stone passageway, not unlike the one Val and I had been trapped in, and sometimes I would think I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, but whenever I turned, nothing would be there.

"Watch carefully," Val said in a low voice, slowing down. Her shoulders bulged, and a few gasps distracted me. "Something's coming."

A thundering sound approached, and too late, I realised it was footsteps. The noise came from ahead of us. The hell hound seemed even larger than the last, barely fitting into the corridor, and I ran ahead to take it on. But a yell had me skidding to a stop.

Lorcan.

I turned to see a wormy-looking creature on top of Lucia, its hair a mess of bloody fire. Lucia's mouth had opened into a silent scream, and dread filled my entire body as I ran toward them. Another creature dropped from the ceiling to the floor between Lorcan and his sister, and everything seemed to happen at once.

I aimed for Lucia, but Val was there first, flinging the creature off of the girl with a swing of her weapon. It fell into two pieces, but both pieces grew until there were two creatures fighting.

Aiden and Esther took care of the new double act, taking care to completely flatten them instead of chopping them to pieces. Another creature attacked Val as Lucia crawled backward in a hurry. I tried to help, but I was ambushed by something with terrifyingly blank eyes. Its features swam as it shifted appearance rapidly, all faces I knew. I cut through it as it wore Peter's face, then I reached for Val, but Lorcan was there first, his sword driving through the monster with a kind of grace I hadn't imagined possible. Lorcan's sword glowed green when he removed it from the dead creature, and the glow gave an eerie look to his determined features.

All around us, creatures were falling to the ground, a variety of monsters that had been unleashed upon us as one. As if they had been waiting for us, I realised as I cut through one sneaking up on Lucia. And then it was over, as quickly as it started.

Our group stood around, panting, leaning on each other and checking for injuries. A couple of shouts of laughter let me know the group remained relatively unharmed.

Lorcan moved to help up his sister, but Val beat him to it, helping Lucia very carefully to her feet. Lucia limped a couple of steps, so Val sheathed her weapon and picked her up.

"I'll carry her," she said, a determined look on her face. Lorcan stared at her, but he didn't argue.

Esther gripped my hand, her cheeks covered in a splatter of some black substance. "We should keep moving."

"Everyone okay?" I asked.

"A couple of minor injuries. One death. They'll all be more wary now."

"Good," I replied. "They'll need to be."

"They knew we were here," Val said, her voice steady in the midst of extreme tension. "They knew. They were sent to welcome us."

I worried about who the traitor might be, but the atmosphere changed noticeably as we followed Val, Lucia in her arms like a true fairy tale damsel in distress. Everyone's eyes were drawn to her, I noticed, and I could see them gearing up to protect their own, to protect the weak ones in the pack. We had fought together. Everything had changed.

"This is why nobody trusts the Council," I couldn't help saying as I spotted Gabe and Aiden in deep conversation. "They already knew we were coming."

Gabe looked up at me. "It might have been a coincidence."

I screwed up my face, and Lorcan pulled me away before I could start an argument.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Don't confront them now," he warned. "It won't work out."

I tried in vain to wipe demon blood from my hands onto my jeans. "You did well back there," I told him.

He gazed at the sword in his hand. "It wasn't me. It was this."

"Well, whatever it was, keep it up. But maybe we should keep ahead of Val a little now. Just in case."

He nodded, and we surrounded Val, one in front, one behind, both of us looking around at any sound.

A scream from behind stunned us all, and I ran with Gabe while the shifter siblings watched over my friends.

A Guardian was being sucked up by the ground, having stepped in something living. It pulsed and bubbled around her, the once solid ground giving way to something liquid. Something was eating her, I realised as horror gripped me.

"Help me!" she screamed again, desperation clear in her voice.

Gabe nodded, moved behind her, and slit her throat. She gurgled for a couple of seconds, her blood decorating those standing too close, but she was dead before he had taken more than three steps away from her.

"What the fuck was that?" I hissed.

Gabe shrugged. "She asked for help. I put her out of her misery."

"That's not what helping means."

He faced me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Tough decisions have to be made, Ava. If you can't make them, then I will. We can't wait around, and we can't help those who fall behind. The longer we linger down here, the more dangerous it becomes. For me more than anyone."

"Why? Why you?"

He gritted his teeth, his fingers pinching me. "Do you understand who rules this domain, Ava? This safe haven for the darkness? One of the fallen. His nightmares come true. His fantasies made living. This is what becomes of us if we stay too long in the darkness. You should watch yourself, too."

After a while, I understood what he meant. I could feel the darkness seeping into me, a natural occurrence from being in Hell, but the thoughts that wormed their way into my brain were awful. I was driven with the thoughts of the children and how their surroundings must have affected them. How Emmett must have been affected. Mrs. Yaga's words came back to haunt me.

I kept my eye on Gabe from then on. I trusted him even less than usual. I barely trusted myself, not after I envisioned myself twisting my dagger into Aiden's chest all because he accidentally bumped against me. The way he glared at me convinced me he was imagining doing the same thing to me.

Val called to me, and I went running, eager to get away from the alpha.

"We can't go this way," she said, indicating ahead of us. "We need another gate. Closer this time. It should be easier. We've passed through a circle already."

"A circle?"

"The places you've been to have all been on the outer circle of Hell. The further we go in, the more dangerous it is. The market isn't on the outer circle. It's not a corridor or a pathway, it's living quarters, and it isn't intended to be stumbled upon. Things will get harder from this point in. Let's just hope they haven't moved further in already. I think we can probably bet that they already know we're coming. But even if they don't, they used to send us out on patrols. We could meet a patrol on our way, so keep an eye out."

"How far in will we have to go?"

She gave an empty smile. "Fortunately, not so far that we could never leave. But we have to hurry. We've made our presence known. More will come of their own accord, out of curiosity. We passed one ring on foot, but you need to bring us closer, to cut them off."

I quickly spread the word. The news travelled down the line efficiently and quietly. I was almost impressed. I leaned against a wall that didn't feel protected in any way and pushed my fingertips into the old, crumbling stone. But try as I might, I couldn't focus long enough to create a gateway.

"Val, can you hold on to me again?" I asked, hearing the strain in my voice. If we were stuck...

To my surprise, Lucia touched me, sending me an image of the market itself. It was weak, but between that and the pictures Emmett had drawn, I had a good mental image.

As before, I sought out the market, and I found myself shooting through darkness until I came to a sudden stop. I saw the entrance, but when I made to return to my body, I got stuck again and struggled to get back for a few moments. My soul twisted and turned frantically for release, and finally, I loosened myself and made it back into my body.

The gate was harder to release, and I fought to keep it open for everyone. I urged them to hurry as I sweated profusely, my entire body shaking with the exertion, and even Coyle moved without argument. I felt shaky and knew I wouldn't be able to keep opening gateways indefinitely. Everything had a price.

We were getting closer to danger. I could feel it under my skin, a drumbeat underfoot, and the heat was unreal. I wasn't sure if it was a figment of my imagination or not, but my hands were slick with sweat, and my dagger moved easily in my fingers, slipping in my grasp.

We found ourselves in a darker place. There was more noise. That drumbeat hadn't been a fantasy; it vibrated under my feet. I wondered where it was coming from. The hallway was a lot wider, slanting downward, and we were able to group together. The Guardians managed to flank Val and Lucia, and Lorcan and I were left to stick together in front. Esther occasionally joined us, but for the most part, she stuck with the other shifters as they used their combined skills to keep a nose on any potential danger.

"Getting closer," Val panted. "Something will come before the end. Be aware."

The something that came turned out to be a childlike creature, pale and small, defenceless looking. But it spoke in violent tongues, telling me how useless I was, regurgitating every horrible memory I had buried. By the looks on everyone's faces, we all heard our own specific stories. Our pasts were dragged to the fore and used against us. Its words drove wedges between the Guardians. One frustrated shifter ran at the creature, hoping to scare it off, but when he grew close, the figure changed shape, and the shifter drove his sword into his own stomach, collapsing to the ground in a pool of blood.

We were warier, but we couldn't fight the tiny creature, not when it knew everything about us.

Finally, Gabe took a crossbow and sent an arrow directly through the child's heart. The child exploded into a flock of black birds that flew over our heads, pecking as they went. All of our fears went with it.

Some laughed, others cried, but all of us were shaken. There were worse things in hell than hell hounds. That was a certainty.

"They are wards," Val said. "We won't find it until we get past the wards."

"Any idea what's next?"

She shook her head. "What comes depends on who approaches, and with so many of us, who knows what will happen?"

The next ward was a voice: no image, no sensation, only words. The words were designed to confuse and betray, to incite hatred and suspicion. A few succumbed, abruptly running forward in a desperate attempt at attacking Val and Lucia, but enough volunteers assisted me and Lorcan to render the incident unworthy of concern.

Apart from the dead bodies. Not only had we murdered our own, we were leaving their bodies in Hell.

Lucia soon decided she needed to walk, but her bitten leg bled still, leaving tiny wet trails of blood drops in her wake. I wanted to help her, but we needed as many fighters as possible, in case anything else attacked.

The next ward was just for me: a door of flames, Hell of my own visions. The way I had imagined hell had been as a fireball, basically. I had imagined fire and brimstone, and I was getting it.

"It's fine," I told them. "It won't hurt us."

"It won't hurt you because you're as bad as the hellspawn," a panicked voice said. "What of the rest of us? It's a trap, a—"

The voice was cut off with a wet sound, but I refused to look around and see what had happened. I didn't want to know what we were doing to each other.

"We're almost there," Val urged. "One more door, and we'll be out of the tunnels. Show them the way."

I passed through the fire, feeling no heat from the flame, and found myself creating yet another doorway. I stepped through, keeping my eyes wide open, and suddenly I was in a different place, a wide open space. Everything was murky, burgundy and violet, even the sky, a stark reminder of a place I had once been, the place I had first gotten stuck on my search for Becca.

Suddenly terrified, I hurried back to the others, wary of being left alone. "It's fine," I said. "Nothing's there."

There were no offers to go through. Nobody said a word.

"You'll have to go through eventually," I said after a minute.

"I'll go through first," offered a tall shifter.

Aiden wasn't happy about the unauthorised offer of assistance, but he didn't stop the young man from passing through the door I created. The shifter didn't hesitate, but a terrible scream erupted as he passed through, and everyone backed away.

Aiden's eyes seemed to bulge out of his sockets as he confronted me. "You said it was safe!" He pushed me against a wall, his blade at my throat.

"It was. When I passed through, nothing was there. Back off, Aiden! We could all end up stuck here for this."

"I'll go through," Val said in a tired voice. She did, and we heard more screams, but after a few horrified seconds of silence, she popped back through, a wry look on her face. "He's standing there wondering why he's alone," she said. "Nothing happened to him. He didn't scream."

"More tricks," Lorcan said. "When does it end?"

"Soon," I promised. "We're almost there." I felt the children closer, could almost hear whispers. Maybe it was more trickery, but I had a good feeling in my gut.

We moved on, slower, more carefully. It was as if everyone realised the biggest battle was yet to come, and our numbers had shrunk already.

The area had become as large as a football field with a darkened sky and a breeze that stung as if filled with miniscule shards of glass. I glanced at Lorcan and saw tiny bloody dots all over his face.

"Straight on," Val said, and she broke into a slow jog, helping Lucia along. Lorcan nodded at me, and we flanked her together, looking around warily. I heard the others behind us, but everything sounded dulled, smothered. Their heartbeats and their footsteps were muted, as if they were covered in something that muffled the sounds of their existence.

I saw odd shapes in the distance, but I couldn't make them out. As we ran, my sides ached, and my chest made wheezing noises, as if the air was too thin for my lungs to process. We didn't slow down, and I soon saw that the figures were really trees of fire, circling a mound marked by a burnt scarecrow. When we got closer, I discovered that the scarecrow was the body of a person, and I shuddered to think of what else we might find.

I turned in a circle, taking in the scenery, if it could be called that. I could no longer see where we had come from, but the path we had walked upon resembled scorched grass, as if we were tearing and burning up the ground with our presence.

Sounds came to me all at once, and my fingers twitched at the idea that I could have lived there, could have been brought up there.

"Here," someone called, interrupting my thoughts. "Steps down."

"I'll go first," I said, really wanting to heave. I took hesitant steps into the darkness, catching one last glance of the muted violet sky. Val was first in line to follow me. Our way down was lit by torches, but something about the darkness couldn't be penetrated, as if it were one large, thick, mass-filled substance. I heard water, and the air grew damper, until I reached the foot of the steps and came to my first guard.

Val and I took care of the hell hound. It was too easy. He was smaller than the others, and he barely fought back.

"A younger one. New-blooded," Val guessed, but she frowned.

We moved on, the group pulling together as if one unit again. I heard shouts as we passed into a cavernous habitat where small figures lay on makeshift beds in the distance. A number of guards approached, but as the closest one broke into a run at me, he froze, eyes bulging, and choked out a sound. He fell to the ground, the back of his head caved in.

A teenage boy stood there, long dark hair falling into his grey eyes. He tossed his head and threw down a weapon that looked a lot like Val's.

"Don't hurt the children," he said.

Twenty guards came for us, and I wondered that there weren't more. After all, the children were worth money. We cut through them, but they all seemed to go after the teenage boy, so I shoved him behind me and went ballistic on the rest of the guards, careful not to let them back near the sleeping figures.

The guards gave up the fight too easily, and as I dodged a half-hearted strike, I became aware of Lucia and Gabe taking the boy back toward the other children. Using my dagger, I slashed faces, weaving in and out in an attempt to weaken the hounds. I blinded one and regretted it. We needed them to talk, not to hate us for maiming them.

Soon it was over. Too soon, a suspicious little voice in my head said. The guards were overwhelmed and the survivors arrested. We were down to twenty, and as we approached the children, I realised at least fifty of them were sleeping there, guarded by about a dozen women. Not warriors, they seemed like caregivers.

Some of the women fought us, refusing to allow us to approach the children, but they were soon subdued. Most begged us not to harm the children, and those we brought with the kids. Almost all of the children slept, apart from the teenagers who had been given work at the market, and the rest of my group carried the smaller ones while I sought a good place to go.

Lucia gripped my hands and showed me our original meeting place. More Guardians were there, anxiously waiting our return.

I called, "Take the smaller children, and move quickly out of here. Then come back for more. They won't wake yet." I made the door and held firm as everyone hurried through it. Esther was holding a baby, maybe a year old, who was wide awake and screaming, "Mama, mama, mama," over and over again.

"She was new," a boy was saying. "She came here today."

My breath caught my throat, and I saw the tears in Esther's eyes, but she didn't say a word, even though she knew the Council would keep the child.

The Guardians moved quickly, and soon the market was empty. But I had a terrible feeling that we had missed out on something. It had been far too easy. There had been far too few guards. It was as if they knew we were coming and made a run for it, perhaps taking the most powerful children with them.

# Chapter Twenty-Four

Processing the children and captives took two days. The Guardians divided into two teams. One took the arrested guards and humans to the cells, where they were locked up until they could be questioned. The other took the children and submissive market workers into a large housing area of the Council's property. It was above ground, I was happy to see, and although it was surrounded by eight foot walls, there were three acres of grass and playground equipment.

But it wasn't home.

Some doctors and nurses were waiting at the building that would house the children. They studied the kids and made sure they weren't alone when they woke up properly. Some of the older children fought so hard upon waking that they had to be sedated all over again. Others cried; more still stared at nothing. The home was chilling and alien, and I wanted to take all of the children there and then. But the Council could do more for them than I could. At least, for the moment.

Slowly, the children adapted, or at least, stopped looking so traumatised. They didn't speak much, and the little girl Esther had carried cried her heart out for hours every day. Nothing would appease her except her mother, and her mother was probably dead.

I was happy to work alongside the Guardians to help the children. Val and the twins had left almost immediately. I had forced them to go before they were trapped in a "home" of sorts. I hung around to make sure the children were treated properly.

The news came while I was helping persuade some of the children to eat.

"Ava, can I speak to you?" Gabe said in a soft voice. He wasn't good with the kids, but he had learned to talk in a certain way around them.

"What's up?" I asked as I followed him into the hallway.

"The cells were raided during the night."

"What do you mean, _raided_?" I asked through gritted teeth.

He looked older all of a sudden. "They're all gone, Ava. The guards, the carers, all of the older ones in the cells."

"Escaped?"

He shook his head. "Dead. All dead."

"What the hell happened? There were teenage girls in those cells, Gabe!"

"I don't know what happened. Not exactly. Someone silenced them. That's all I can tell you."

"Fuck you!"

"Ava—"

"No! Fuck off! They knew we were coming, and they knew how to get rid of the witnesses. They're one of you. At least one of you is involved in the market."

"Would it help if I told you I agreed?"

"No, it wouldn't."

I walked away and didn't look back. I couldn't without feeling sick. I was leaving the children to the monsters who had taken them in the first place. The only difference was the Council were wearing prettier masks. I had no way of fighting.

At least not alone.

***

Emmett seemed happy to see me home again, but Carl had already left.

"He was going crazy locked up in here and having to listen to Maria on the phone," Peter told me. "And the trouble's over."

"It's not over. One of the Council has to be involved. They got away with it. The witnesses are dead. And now they're keeping the children. Nothing's over. Not a whole lot changed. Not for the better, anyway."

He pulled me into his arms. "I'm sorry."

"They will be, too. Some day."

"What now?"

"I don't know," I half-sobbed. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"Yvonne wants us to go home. She wants to stay with me to take care of Emmett."

"Is she still working for Daimhín?"

He shrugged. "But I can't do this alone, Ava." I stared at him, and he smiled suddenly. "Emmett wants to stay."

"And you?" I asked.

"I think Emmett needs to go to school in September. I think he needs a chance at a normal life."

My heart sank. "Oh."

"But he's special, Ava. And I don't know how to deal with that. I need help with that."

"From Yvonne?" I couldn't keep the venom out of my voice.

"It's her house," he reminded me. "And it's full of memories I don't care for. I can't even call it safe." He hesitated, but his eyes said more than his words.

"Emmett's safer here."

"With you? Or with us?" His voice softened so much that it became unrecognisable.

I had to pull away and stare at him for a couple of seconds to understand. "You want to stay? With me?"

"If you don't mind. For a while, at least. It's been... different here with you. _I've_ been different. Better. And I'm terrified to do this by myself."

"You're an idiot," I said, but I smiled at him. At least something had gone right. Emmett wasn't leaving, and that made me feel... calm.

Carl came back to find out what had happened, and we stood side by side as we watched Peter and Emmett strengthen their bond by playing football in my backyard. I told him everything, and I felt better for it.

"It sounds unreal," Carl said.

"Felt it, too," I admitted.

"Was it... what was it like? To be there?"

I bit my lip. By the time I left the slave market, I had felt comfortable in Hell, too sure of myself. But the darkening in my blood had been all too real, all too familiar. So I didn't say a word about it. I just kept on looking outside at two of the people keeping me in the light.

"What happened with Maria?" I asked to change the subject.

He sighed. "The usual. We're drowning together. I have to let her go. She could be so much better without me."

"Don't. You can make it work. You can fix it. She _loves_ you."

He turned to me, something akin to understanding in his eyes. "That isn't always enough, Ava."

I looked away, unable to bear the raw pain inside me at his words.

"Be careful," he said a couple of minutes later, and I felt his fingers squeeze my hand.

"Of course I will. Nobody can hurt us here."

"I'm talking about this." He nodded toward Peter and Emmett. " _This_ is dangerous for you, Ava."

"He's your friend," I said in surprise.

"And so are you. But a ready-made kid isn't a miracle cure."

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times before deciding to go with avoidance. "I don't want to hear this."

"I know," he said sadly, releasing my hand. "I know."

He left soon afterward, the awkward tension driving him away. I joined the others outside, trying to shake off the feeling.

We had some nice, normal days, the three of us acting like a family as Peter and Emmett used me as a buffer for their growing relationship. But my smiles were weak, and my heart wasn't in it because all I could think about were the children the Council had possession of. Emmett, Val, and the twins were all safe, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. I hadn't found a way of fixing everything.

And then there was Eddie. He had made it clear he wanted a new start, one without the Council, and maybe I hated them enough to turn to him. But I wasn't sure who to trust and if I might be releasing a bigger monster onto the world.

Esther came to me a couple of days later, her arms wrapped around herself. I invited her in frostily, but she seemed not to notice. She wandered into the house as if in a dream, and a glimmer of worry wormed its way into my chest.

And then I smelled the blood. "What's happened?"

She looked at me, and the hollowness in her eyes scared me. "I couldn't stop thinking about that baby. I had carried her through, and she kept calling for her mama. She wouldn't stop. They said she'd stop after a few days, but she never did. Even in her sleep, she cried. I heard her in my dreams, Ava. Every night, the same cries. And you heard that boy; the child had just been brought there. She remembered her own people, and she missed them."

"Okay. So what happened?"

"I stole her from the Council." She held up her hands at my gasp of surprise. "I know, but I read the newspaper reports and found her surviving family. Her mother was _alive_ , Ava. She had been on a weekend away when it happened. Her sister died in her place, and she was distraught herself. She looked so much like the baby, and both of them were devastated, so I took the baby home. And the mother was so unbelievably grateful." Spittle flew out of her mouth at the urgency of the word. "The baby stopped crying for the first time. She smiled and held on to her mother so tight. It was... I've never seen so much _love_ before."

She gulped a couple of times, her eyes wet with tears. "And then they came. They must have known what I would do."

"Who came?"

"The Council sent Guardians for her. Aiden was with them. My own brother. And he grabbed me, held me so tight I couldn't move. Even if he hadn't, I might not have moved an inch. I was frozen to the spot. And they... and they..."

"It's okay," I said as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

She shook her head. "No," she moaned. "No, it's not. Coyle... put a dagger through the back of the mother's neck so hard it went straight through. She was still holding the baby, and the... and the baby was covered in her mother's blood. She opened her mouth, but she... she didn't cry. She never cried. Not even when they both fell to the floor."

I felt my own eyes fill with tears.

Esther was devastated, and the words came faster. "I reached for the baby, but I slipped on the... on the blood, and someone else took her. I couldn't see straight. There was nothing... it was so _quick_. They left me there, said I had to clean up the mess I made, and Aiden... Aiden did nothing to stop them. And the baby saw everything, and she didn't cry. She couldn't cry."

She ran to the bathroom and threw up repeatedly. I realised Peter was standing in the doorway, having heard the whole thing. His eyes held an icy glare, and I felt the old Peter returning. I waited for Esther to finish, and then I let her cry on my shoulder. She was so young, so naive in some ways. She had so many expectations for her life, and she felt such pride in who she was, but inside, she was a little girl who couldn't deal with the reality of her world.

"I should never have trusted them," she said at last. "Everything I've done, it doesn't come close to this. Did they send me on the trainee missions before? Is that why I'm so shocked by this? Why would they do it? Why kill her like that? The baby... that poor baby. And now they have her, and she's worse than before because she can't cry."

I felt cold as stone sitting there next to her. We were reaching a turning point, an important one. The Council were the protectors, those murderers of innocents.

"Are you willing to do something about it?" I asked when she composed herself. "Are you willing to go against your own brother for what's right?"

She nodded vehemently. "I can't stand by anymore. When they said they were keeping the children, it was hard enough. But this... this is a step too far for me. I'm not a murderer, Ava. And if this is what Guardians have to do, I can't be one of them any longer. I can't call myself a Guardian—or a shifter—and feel pride anymore."

"If you step up, they'll all turn their backs on you—the Guardians, the Council, and even your pack. Are you truly willing to lose your brother? Your family? Your pack?"

She closed her eyes and thought for a few minutes. When she opened them, her expression was clear, calmer than before. "It was my fault. That woman died because I tried to do the right thing by a baby we were supposed to save. It's all dead to me now. All of it. I'm not giving up on that little girl. Not now, not ever. I have to get her home, or I'll never be able to live with myself."

"I think we should go back to Folsom's place," I said. "I think we need to talk in a safe place."

"I'm so sorry. I endangered you all by coming here."

"No, you didn't. We're friends, and we can protect ourselves." I took her hand. "Just because you won't have your pack doesn't mean you'll be alone, Esther. Family's more than blood."

She blinked back some tears. "They'll come for me. I didn't... clean up the mess. I went to pieces and came straight here. I didn't know where else to go."

I gave Peter a heads up and decided to take Esther to Folsom's place. She didn't know what it was called, and I wasn't about to tell her. I needed to leave that to others. But she deserved a chance at redemption, at least, at redeeming herself in her own mind. What had happened was awful, truly disgustingly terrible, and the Council were going to pay for their actions. I was more determined than ever.

No matter what it took.

Leaving Emmett and a frustrated Peter in the safety of the cul de sac, I escorted Esther to the Féinics to hold a meeting with the people Folsom protected. We talked about what happened with the children, and Esther told her story. The sad part was that, although people looked saddened, they didn't seem surprised by the news. I didn't know most of their names, but we all had the same cause. We were all in some kind of trouble because the protectors weren't protecting.

"I need help," Esther said. "I need to help. I can't stand by and watch..."

Val, sitting next to Lucia, nodded. "I may be safe, but I don't want any of the protection those people are offering."

"Same here," Lorcan agreed. "I don't want to be a friend of that pack if these are the kind of actions they take."

That hurt Esther, I saw it in her face, but she didn't argue. She knew it was too late to defend her people.

"What can we do?" I asked. "Right now, I'm the only one above ground."

"You should hide too," Folsom said. "It isn't safe up there anymore."

"I've people who need me. And I don't want to hide away. I want to fight this, and it's better if there's someone finding out what's going on. There's so much that needs to be done. Besides, I work for Daimhín; she will be mightily pissed if I disappear. And there's Emmett. I need to protect him, and I don't want him imprisoned down here. No offence," I added, looking around apologetically.

"It's understandable," Kate said. "He's been trapped for so long." I was kind of surprised she even remembered who Emmett was. Then I realised something. These people were waiting around for news, waiting to hear about the life outside. They were trapped, too. They needed to be free. It wasn't a safe haven; it was a prison, at least while the Council existed.

"Whether you like it or not, the world considers you to be rebels," I told them. "Maybe it's time to rebel."

"Now? Are you a complete idiot?" Cam let loose, startling everyone. He acted as though he didn't care, but I saw through the act.

"How so?" I asked calmly.

"You said yourself there's a war coming. A country without real leadership is screwed. Screwed even more than before. Your stupidity is astounding."

"Who says the war is coming today? Anyway, do you think the Council will actually protect anyone?"

"It's better than nobody protecting us," he said.

"We should wait," Folsom said after a few minutes. "No, hear me out. We should let the British vampires do our work for us, and all the while, we build the cause in secret. No more hiding and hoping for the best. We make our own future."

"What if the war wipes out everything?" Lorcan asked. "The vampires are serious about this. Do not underestimate the lengths they'll go to."

"We'll have to stand side by side for a time, and in their moment of weakness, we attack. _We_ turn traitor." I moved closer to Lucia, and she held my hand, giving me exactly what I needed, an image of a possible future we could play on. "We need more power. We need someone who will think we're helping him, but really, we're using him. If I'm like a conduit, then someone with a lot of power could come in handy. Changes are coming. And we're running out of choices."

"What is it you people really want to accomplish here?" Cam asked, and I heard the worry in his voice. "Kill them all?"

"Of course not," I said. "We aren't like them. We need a new order. New rules, modern ideals. No more archaic bullshit. We need new leaders. There will be death, but there are probably others who will be on our side. We need to find them."

"I don't like this," Cam said. "I won't be a part of this."

"Then you should go sit with the Council," I said harshly.

Everyone stared, but nobody said a word. If I had to be a monster, then so be it, but nobody was standing in our way. _Nobody_ would get a chance to stop me.

# Epilogue

It had been a while since I entered the bookshop, but it smelled the same as always.

"You," Eddie said under his breath.

"Thought I was overdue for a visit," I said. "How's business?"

"Terrible. Where's my employee?"

"He needed a break. Life at a bookshop can be really stressful. Can we talk?"

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

I smiled sweetly. "Koda's going to die soon."

"There is that," Eddie said, but his eyes spelled out his interest.

"The Council will need a new member."

"Truth. A shifter, perhaps. Maybe something a little... darker."

"You have experience, right? Why not you?"

His smile was devoid of amusement. "Because it won't be me. Why don't we skip the chatter and get straight to the part where you tell me what you want?"

"I want change. Don't you?"

"Change is always a great thing," he said reverently.

"Allies are great, too."

He nodded, never letting his eyes drop from mine. "'Tis true enough. But as they say, change tends to happen when the majority rule."

"But how to get the majority," I said, wandering around the book stacks. "Did I ever tell you what Gabe wanted in exchange for healing Carl?"

"You did not," he said in a clipped voice.

"Ah. There were two things, really. I had to find the slave market. That's ticked off now. Although, it didn't really work out the way I planned it."

"And the other?"

"Oh, that. I was supposed to find the rebels. What's the word Fionnuala used? Oh, yeah, the Féinics." I didn't tell him the third part of the deal, finding out what Eddie was up to, nor my own personal mission, figuring out more about the magical book hidden in his home.

He straightened. "And you did. You did, of course. Are they many?"

I shrugged. "It's not the numbers really. It's more what they can do. And those children, they're the special ones, and that's why the Council kept them for themselves."

He nodded. "A nasty turn of events."

"You heard me at the meeting. You know of the ones who helped me bring the Guardians to the market?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "I've heard rumours that one is a hell hound. And I heard you say you have a seer. I can only imagine..."

I went to the counter and leaned over it. "You can't even imagine what's down there. Who's hiding with the rebels," I said breathlessly.

He rolled along with my enthusiasm. "Enough... enough to change it all?"

"There's power there. A lot of it. But nobody to lead it. Nobody to _wield_ it."

"Not even you?"

I grinned. Clever Eddie. "I've never been a leader. More like a lone wolf. But they trust me. Said I could be... the face of something. Reminds me of something you would say."

"There's a lot I need to do."

"There is. But there's time. Nobody will think of making a move until we deal with the threat of war. And war is certainly coming. The only question is how hard. How soon. But the good thing about a war is the opportunity to help, to impress. And war takes time to organise, so there's plenty of time to... make friends."

He nodded again, his eyes dreamy. He could already taste the power. He needed power. Whatever he was trying to do required a lot of power. Yeah, well, ditto.

"The children," he said abruptly. "I'll need the children."

I faltered, and he saw it, so I didn't bother lying. "Nobody can hurt them," I said at last.

"Of course."

He lied, and we both knew it.

***

I strode into Gabe's bar with my hands in my pockets, humming a tune. Aiden was there, speaking in hushed tones with the angel.

"Oh, look who it is!" I said mockingly. "Kill any mothers lately?"

He ground his teeth, making an ugly noise.

"I hear you're an only child these days," I taunted, unable to help myself. I wanted him to show regret. Guilt. Something. Anything. I needed to know for sure that he was gone into the shadows. One way or another.

"What are you talking about?" he snapped.

"You betrayed your own sister, right? So she's not hanging around here, is she?" I looked around in an exaggerated fashion. "Looks like she's disowned you and your pack." I made a faux sad face.

"Where is she?" he snarled.

"None of your fucking business," I said slowly, making sure he heard every word. "You gave up that right when you killed an innocent woman in front of her and a baby, and ordered her to clean up the mess. You sick—"

"It wasn't me!" he roared, and Gabe put his arm in front of him.

"No, you just stood there and watched. You just let her sit there in the blood like a traumatised little girl. You just let them take a baby who may never get over being covered in her mother's blood. You fuck!"

"Aiden, get out of here," Gabe said. "You're losing control."

"Run along, Aiden," I said. "Sharpen those claws for your next victim. Should I line up a virgin for you? Or a newborn, perhaps?"

It took a while to get Aiden out of the bar after that. I sat on the bar and laughed as he struggled to get at me. It took everything in me not to rip off his head. Or at least try. But I had bigger plans. I needed to play everyone at their own game. And making Aiden lose his mind and control was just part of it.

Maybe then I could see why someone with such strong morals could fall into such a deep downward spiral so quickly. Of everyone, no matter how frustrated he made me, Aiden was the one person I thought Esther could trust. I thought she was more important to him than the Council. I couldn't believe I had been so far off the mark, so I studied him for any hint of the dark shadows as the bouncers dragged him outside.

Nothing. But I couldn't give up on him yet, at least not completely. There had to be an explanation, some magic at work... but no, that was the old Ava talking. New Ava had to be harder, had to make tough decisions, and that was exactly who the new plan needed.

"What are you doing here?" Gabe asked in a tired voice when the drama finally ended.

I stared at him for a couple of seconds, wondering if he was the mysterious "uncle" who had visited Peter all of those years ago, if he'd had any involvement in the way our lives had turned out. My eyes narrowed, and he inched away from me as if he could tell what I was thinking.

"Why don't you go home, Ava?"

"We have deals to sort out," I said snippily.

He frowned before finally nodding. "Back room."

The last time I had been there was when Finn knocked me out with his ridiculously potent fae drink. Not the best memories.

"People have been looking for you," he said.

"You know where I live."

"We do, and yet, nobody can find it. Your landlady is formidable."

"That she is," I said, mentally praising and thanking Mrs. Yaga in my head. I had to repay her for that one.

"Do you want him to kill you?" he asked, handing me a bottle of water.

"He could try," I replied with a grin. "And he deserves every bit of it after what happened."

He nodded. "He had orders."

"Whose orders? What kind of person follows orders without even giving it a second thought? Without even considering if they're doing the right thing?"

"Good soldiers," he said without hesitation.

"Like you?" I asked innocently. "Angels are soldiers, right? They follow their commands without asking questions. So, why is it that you're fallen again?"

The look he gave me left me shaken, but I couldn't back down. He was the one to break the silence.

"What do you have for me?" he asked.

"Updates. Your Council keeps alienating useful people. I can persuade some of them to deal with you through me, but I need guarantees. I need to be safe. The humans in my life need to be safe. If you can't guarantee that, then we need to end this now."

"We don't need you," he scoffed.

"No, but you need a seer, and you can't trust Eloise. You can count on mine. You saw her; she's pure innocence. And she'll only speak to me. In fact, she already has spoken to me."

He stared at me and seemed to realise I was telling the truth. "Tell me then, you pest."

"After we shake on a deal," I insisted.

"Fine, if you tell me what you know, I'll ensure your human friends and family all remain safe."

"All of them," I repeated.

He echoed my words, and I shook his hand, gripping it tightly as a jolt of electricity shot from my hand to his.

He jerked backward, horrified. "What was that?"

"A little borrowed magic," I said, smiling again. "It's weird that it took a complete stranger to let me know what I can really do, but wow, it's nice to know that it worked. It's nothing personal, though. Just something to make sure you stick to your end of the bargain. Those fae deals are a kicker."

"A fae deal?" he said, horror growing in his eyes.

"Yeah. Those vampires really didn't have a clue what they had in those twins. They're pretty amazing. Anyway, there's no need to worry. You won't be hurt, unless my humans are, of course."

He stared at me, speechless with shock, and I couldn't help grinning again.

"Get out," he hissed.

"Don't you want to hear what I learned?" I asked. "Isn't that why we made the deal?"

"I regret the day I ever stood for you," he said, full of emotion for the first time.

"Because I'm making you keep your word? I thought you might." But I felt sad for some reason. "Koda's dying. As in, soon. And the person you wanted me to keep an eye on is ready for some change."

"Is that it?" he snapped.

"You do need me," I said, more softly. "We can help each other. You're not like them, are you? You wouldn't be going to all of this trouble to get credit for some decent actions just to screw it up with a few bad decisions, like sanctioning the murder of an innocent to prove a point. People keep telling me there will come a time when I have to pick sides. I think I already have. Now it all depends on who is with me, and who is against me. And trust me, Gabe, I've learned enough from you people. You don't want to play against me." My words came out steadier than I felt.

I got up to leave, but he grabbed my hand. "Take it away," he said. "Take the deal away."

I shook my head sadly. "I can't. You're the only one who can do that."

"How?"

"You'll have to figure that one out. But you could start by being honest with me for a change."

He stared at me, and I realised he was shaking. What the hell was he so scared of all of a sudden?

"You're not what I thought you were," he said. "Nothing's what I thought it would be."

"Tell me the truth. Did you have anything to do with the slave market, or the way it was covered up in the end?"

He shook his head. "I didn't. Nobody has ever come to me or admitted it. I swear I have nothing to do with that."

"But you have your suspicions."

"Suspicions are not enough. I need proof."

"So find it. If you're man enough."

I left him with that thought, wiping away a trickle of blood from my nose and ignoring the shooting pains behind my eyes. Cam had warned me that transferring the fae power would come at a cost, but I felt the price was worth it.

I was playing with fire, and I knew it, but I wanted everyone on edge, and I had to stand close to the precipice to push everyone over. I wanted them all to feel suspicious and unsettled because then they would start making mistakes. And I was more than willing to take advantage of those mistakes. If the vampires showed up for war, I would make sure the entire country knew to defend themselves, and when the right moment arrived, I would ensure that change came. One way or another.

###

Thank you for reading Taken (Ava Delaney #4)—for more information, check out Claire Farrell's blog or email the author.  Sign up to be notified of new releases.

