

# AWAKENING

Lilly has been marked for death by daemons from a hidden world, a place known as the Shadow Realm. Within her has awakened the spirit of their enemy, one of the luriel. Such beings are myths to her, but one man is out to prove that they exist. The daemon slayer, Mychel, will introduce her to a world of shadows and light hiding beyond the comfort of science and technology, where ancient myths are real and an eternal war rages on, a war in which she has now been conscripted to fight.

One daemon is doing his best to destroy her before that happens. In human form, Darrac is able to get close to her and soon realizes that she is different—through Lilly, an ancient power has revived, a terrible power than can end the war...by eliminating both luriel and daemons. But destroying that power would mean sacrificing the one who has changed his heart.

Time is running out as the luriel within Lilly matures and her powers grow. One choice will determine the fate of two realms.

## AWAKENING

The Luriel Cycle Book 1

By Melanie Nilles

_Awakening_ is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters, names, places, or incidents to reality is pure coincidence.

Awakening

E-book Copyright © 2015 by Melanie Nilles

Cover by Melanie Nilles.

Published by Prairie Star Publishing; Bismarck, North Dakota.

All Rights Reserved.

For information, check www.melanienilles.com for updates.

# TABLE OF CONTENTS

________________________

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

About the Author

# AWAKENING

*

# Chapter 1

**T** he freedom of the outside world should have greeted her like an old friend, but something wasn't right. Darker than the shadows of buildings, another shadow had fallen over Porton. This was something intangible, something cold and malevolent.

A shiver of fear raced through Lilly, a fear of something unknown. Something dark and foreboding slithered through her, making her wrap her arms around herself in an instinct of defense.

Ridiculous. She was imagining things. She was an adult now, not a child with unwarranted fears. Her discovery of the possible makings of a storm on Maeras, the smallest moon of their dear Ahlias, had put her on edge. Maybe she should go back upstairs in the SRIS Center and tell them to prepare for something worse than a C-1 weather pattern.

No. Sadir had taken over. She had shown him her data. He would draw his own conclusions.

Her shift was done. Time to let others take over. They could decide if the data indicated something worse.

Her apprehension must have come from the reminder that she would be alone for an 8-day cycle.

"Lilly?"

She blinked away the thoughts and turned to the concerned look on the front desk guard.

"I'm all right," she said and forced a smile. She was not all right, but she didn't want Kory to think she was crazy.

Something glowed in the shadows beneath him.

"You don't look all right. Want me to call an escort?"

"No thanks. I should—I should be fine." She'd been doing this for five years with SRIS, since finishing her studies. Why should this day be any different?

But she couldn't shake the dread that had taken hold. It wrapped her in a cocoon of darkness, a darkness inside rather than out. She couldn't escape by stepping into light.

Absurdity! That's what it was. She had nothing to fear, except the normal city life.

"All right." Kory gave her a sad look, as if he'd wanted to play the hero just once—front desk guard must have been a tedious job, except for watching the protestors who occasionally gathered outside, as they had today. Maybe that was the reason for her concern.

Or it was the fear of going out into that world alone.

She didn't have a choice if she hoped to get home.

Lilly stepped out of the doors of Jemini Tower in the Porton business district into what should have been the freedom of a vacation but for her was a prison of loneliness. Working kept her from feeling the sting of rejection still blistering within her heart since the breakup with Rian barely two cycles ago, fifteen days too fresh for her to heal.

Like her, a large outpouring of office workers in Porton headed home at this time. They crowded the sidewalks, flowing like rivers along the channels of bikes and electric carts in the street beneath the lev-rail track for the regular passenger trains zipping from one end of the city to another and to the outer districts. Even the skyways connecting buildings over the streets were crowded.

She had ten minutes to reach the midtown station if she didn't want to wait for the next train to Noren City.

Hoping to avoid the most recent protest of the moon bases, she pulled the hood of her jacket over her head of dark brown hair with the purple streak, her defiant streak, as Rian used to call it.

Her heart choked to think of him, threatening to pull her into the dark despair of grief. She had to accept that he'd left and she couldn't change matters. That's all there was too it.

Fighting the tug at her heart, she forced her feet onward past the handful of people gathered around a podium on which a speaker in a bright yellow hat stood and spouted his inflammatory oratory.

"Traitor! Enemy to the human race! You destroy your own kind by supporting the corruption of a tyranny built on the backs of the poor!" The man with the bright yellow hat stood on his pedestal and shouted through his megaphone.

Here it went again—lies and misrepresentations. She and the others who had departed Jemini Towers at that time were his targets. The real argument was against devoting home resources to the development of the space program. When would they learn that their world needed the moons' resources?

When a bull cracked its skull, she thought in a feeble attempt to lighten her mood. There was one good thing about the protests—occupying her attention from the ache that grew worse when she couldn't engross herself completely the way she could at her job on the twenty-first floor.

The world had come together to form the Ahlias United Space Command with numerous corporations contracted, including her employer, to evaluate the data sent by the stations and determine how best to direct service between them and the homeworld of Ahlias. It had united their world but some sought to break that apart.

The fools. If they knew how valuable the resources were, they would shut up once and for all. Space exploration offered hope for a brighter future, unlike the old cultures made irrelevant in the Scientific Reformation two hundred years ago, when superstition and religion fell by the wayside for the sake of bettering everyone through the technology developed by their scientific knowledge and advancements.

And yet, some things never changed. Someone always had to protest change. If he had his way, the man in the bright yellow hat would have them all living in the elder days.

They had the same rights to their opinions as anyone, but those opinions were backwards. And this group didn't seem as willing to abide the terms of the standard license to protest.

The risk that they would take the matter too far weighed on her mind. Lilly ducked through the crowds, wishing she could disappear and doing her best to blend in. The words of the speaker trailed after her. Whether he could still see her or not among the throngs of people hurrying home after a hard day of work was irrelevant. The air about her thickened into a miasma of fury that penetrated her sense of security with the unspoken threat.

She shivered and looked about, but people seemed to not notice her, being more intent on reaching their destinations than noticing the man in the bright yellow hat. However, the darkness inside her grew with each step, and she felt like the eyes and words of the speaker condemned her. She scanned the streets, but no one made eye contact, nor did any threats jump out. People had their own concerns.

Nevertheless, her pulse raced. Her breathing quickened. She felt like something awful was ready to happen, the same feeling that had haunted her before leaving work.

But no one seemed to care about her.

No.

She looked again.

One man met her eyes and quickly looked away. His short, sandy-blonde hair matching his fair complexion stood out from the majority of people like her. She gulped, every instinct in her screaming to run. Instead, not wanting to attract any more attention, she tried to hurry without running and stayed with the flow of the people to the small lev-rail station in the hopes of leaving him far behind.

It might be coincidence that he followed, but if the man was one of the protestors and decided he didn't like her...

A cold dread prickled under her skin. She refused to be a statistic.

Lilly shoved past several people, squeezing around many who refused to budge and who gave her dirty looks.

Glancing back, she saw that the man in the trench coat pressed through the crowds after her. That confirmed it. Damn! Why her? Why now?

Where were the Peacekeepers with their zero tolerance for crime?

She scanned the various hues of clothing for the dark blue of a Peacekeeper uniform and saw their hoverjet thirty feet above the crowds at the far end of the city block, too far to reach at the pace the stranger made to her, and they didn't seem to show any interest in her predicament. They were no use in her case.

Hiding would be her best bet.

Lilly ducked down between people and stayed low while moving in the direction of a dark gap between skyscrapers. Amid the pounding of her pulse in her ears, she reached the shadowy gap and slid along the cold wall and froze, trying to make herself unnoticed in the shadows. She hoped the man hadn't seen her. Once he moved on, she would sneak out and hopefully reach the next block by the time the lev-rail stopped.

A voice in her head said this was ridiculous, that she was being paranoid and that no one else seemed bothered. She silenced it with the reasoning that she would rather be cautious than dead.

She looked up at the chronometer above the open station in the distance and the estimated time before each train—about seven minutes before the next arrived. That time of day, a five-car train passed through every ten minutes. She didn't want to wait any longer than necessary, especially with someone following her.

Her blood turned cold and something touched her shoulder with icy fingers.

Lilly spun, expecting someone to grab her. Instead, only the shadows met her eyes. "Who's there?" she whispered, searching desperately within the inky black.

Movement shimmered in the depths of the shadows too deep for dusk. Her heart leapt from her chest to flee on its own back to the security of the after-work crowds.

The scuff of a step on the brick tiles behind startled her into whirling. The man who had followed her glared menacingly. Her breath caught. With the sun to his back, shadows darkened his features. A long, brown leather coat hung loose about his thighs.

"Wh—Wh—Who are you?"

He stalked towards her and pulled a sword from a sheath beneath his longcoat. Lilly backed away. "Don't come any closer! I'll defend myself."

"Get back," he growled, lifting the sword into a position to strike, calling her bluff to defend herself.

Something cold touched her back and she whirled, realizing too late that she turned her back to the man.

He rushed her.

He missed her and lunged past, a rising glow shimmering from the silver blade. Of all the luck! Without looking back, Lilly raced from the darkness to the crowded walkway. A flare of light behind her made people stop and look. She didn't have time to stare. Instead, she shoved through the tight crowds.

The train whistled.

No! The doors hissed shut before she could reach it.

No. No. No.

Lilly caught her breath at the edge of the train platform at the downtown station and watched it ease from the waiting citizens. Once clear, it whooshed down the tracks. The next wouldn't be there for ten minutes.

Her heart pounding in her chest, she looked back.

The man in the long coat pushed through the crowds towards her, a determined look on his face.

_Hide!_ Her instincts screamed the word.

Where?

Skyscrapers surrounded her, except for the open concrete park with its arching walkways and dancing fountains down the street. Crowds of people eager to leave the city proper for their tenements sat on benches or waited in a tight cluster at the boarding platform. Still others flowed like a slow river up and down the streets surrounded by ominous towers of metal and glass glaring shades of orange and red evening light.

She couldn't escape.

Or maybe she could. The humble, two-story building with its slanted roof and massive windows with the etched depiction of a sun and rays on the upper floor gleamed yellow in the evening sun between skyscrapers. It could have been transplanted from history.

She had almost missed the temple and had to wonder how long it had been there. She hadn't paid it any attention in the years she'd been working at Jemini Tower, but it was somewhat out of the way and she had always been focused on her walk to and from the station. By the looks of bricks of various shades that made up the walls, the old temple was ancient and had been repaired several times in its apparently long history. Even the window flourishes hinted of another time.

The sign outside the temple said it was always open for worship. Perfect, if she could avoid being spotted by the man now—

She checked his progress but he seemed to have lost her and looked elsewhere.

Seeing her chance, she pushed past people, bumping a woman with a child. "Sorry," she muttered and hurried past. Being bumped by her wasn't hardly bad compared to her being pursued by a man ready to skewer her with a sword.

A quick peek revealed the top of the man's head, but he remained in the same place, still searching.

She kept her head beneath the people around her and hurried through the double doors of the temple. Once inside, she shoved the doors closed with a thump that echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber and made her wince. So much for subtlety.

The light through the upper windows shone on the paintings above the alter at the front. Stone columns rose along the right side, supporting a balcony.

Lilly made her way through wooden benches arched from the front in concentric rings like waves from the disturbance of a rock tossed into water. Each light step she took echoed a soft scrape within the acoustics of the sanctuary.

"Hello?" Her small voice boomed in the emptiness.

A door scraped open behind the stone alter, and a young man stepped out in simple, earthy cleric robes from a bygone era. It took her by surprise and she had to look back at the door and its locking mechanism to be sure she hadn't stepped back in time.

"Uh...Your sign said you were welcome to worshipers any time."

"Yes. Please. Come in." He stopped several steps away, an eager smile on his face. "What is it you seek? The servants of the Gods are always listening."

"Hide me."

The smile faltered. "Excuse me?"

Lilly hurried to him, feeling that she could trust him, _needing_ to trust him in her desperation. "There's a man with a sword. He attacked me and I...I missed the train. I need to hide until the next train."

The young man's shoulders relaxed and his gentle smile returned. "All are welcome in the temple of the Gods. This is hallowed ground." His arm swept about the sanctuary with its depictions of glowing men and women in white robes reaching from the sky in blessing. Some illustrations presented these beings spearing terrible monsters.

Lilly shuddered and peered back at the door. Hallowed ground meant nothing to a man with a sword who hated anyone who worked for one of the AUSC contractors. "Please. I just need to hide for a while." Surely the acolyte understood that to delay could be fatal.

The young man gave her a critical look. "You didn't come as a believer to worship."

"No!" Was he deaf? Had he heard her plea? "I came in here to hide. I need your help." Mythological gods couldn't help her from a man with a sword.

His face dropped into a frown.

"The Gods do not turn away their children." The voice boomed from above.

Lilly turned and looked up at the stern face with the sagged cheeks of age above somewhat more elaborate robes than the boy's.

"Bring her quickly, Erim."

The boy looked from the old man to her, an expression of hesitation on his face.

"Quickly. To the door beneath me." The old man waved them over.

Lilly looked into the shadows beneath the balcony and saw a door hiding there. Anxious to get out of the open, she rushed from the useless boy and around the benches. She pulled open the door to a dark stairway bending up and around to a light. A moment later, that light disappeared.

"This way," a disembodied voice hissed from somewhere above, the elder priest's voice.

Lilly hurried up to meet him and stopped at the corner landing, where he stood.

His scornful gaze lifted past her. "Erim, return to your duties. You saw no one."

"Yes, Diviner." The boy bowed his head and hurried down the stairs, the padding of his steps fading until the door clicked.

"Now," the old man said in a low voice. "Tell me about the man with the sword."

"You heard." Then at least she didn't have to repeat herself.

"It is hard not to hear. The temples are designed to magnify prayers." His voice lowered to a whisper and he pushed the wall next to them aside, revealing a hidden room.

A shudder passed through her in spite of his assurances. Fearing the swordsman more, she pushed aside her hesitations about the priest and followed him into a tiny room. A faint tingle electrified her senses. For a second, she thought she heard a whisper but shook it off as an effect of the closeness of the walls.

"What is this?"

"This temple is old. The city grew around it. During the Cretian Revolution, many were saved through the tunnels." He flicked on an electric lantern and the door slid shut.

"I'll spare the history, but the tunnels were later collapsed." He shone the light down the narrow corridor. It barely reached to a pile of rubble blocking it from continuing. She'd have no escape that way if the swordsman found her. A second later, he lifted the light between them and put a finger to his lips.

Lilly's breath froze in her chest and she crept towards the door to put her ear up to it.

Nothing.

But they were in a secret chamber behind a staircase.

"You would hear if someone entered the sanctuary." The old man's bare whisper cracked the stillness like a clap of thunder. Gray eyes glinted with the wry smile on his face.

"Clever design," she whispered.

If the strange man had followed, he should have been there by now.

Time stood still while they waited. She barely breathed in fear of making any sound that might reveal their location. Part of her reasoned that the swordsman should have been there long before they reached the room, had he seen her enter the temple. The boy had delayed her more than long enough.

An eternity could have passed in the quiet chamber before she thought to pull out the comm unit from her pocket and check the chronometer, which glowed through the darkness.

"Damn." She'd just missed the train and would have to wait for the next.

On the good side, the strange man should be long gone, having, by all indications, lost her; and since she had a cycle away from the office and downtown Porton, she would hopefully be forgotten or he would be caught and imprisoned by the Peacekeepers by the time she returned. Either meant he wouldn't get to her, but the former was preferable to the latter.

"You said a man with a sword attacked?" The diviner's voice barely broke the still air.

She shrank from the eerie shadows on his face cast by the lantern. "Yes, in the alley between buildings down the street. He attacked and I ducked and ran. He was following me. I didn't know where else to go."

The priest nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face one that she recognized.

"You don't believe me." She should have known. It sounded farfetched to her, but she had experienced it.

"I do. I also know you're no daemon."

"Daemon?"

A wry smile broke the stern set to his jaw and he pointed above the door to a strange etched symbol. Now that she was aware of it, she looked about at patterns of them all around on the walls and floor.

"They cannot pass beyond the wards. The tunnels were originally meant to protect humanity from them."

Lilly bit her tongue on what she thought of his religious nonsense and stepped back from him, now anxious to leave. He stuck his finger in a fist-sized notch in the hidden door and pulled. At a small click, light returned from outside, along with the silence of the sanctuary and fresh air.

"You don't have to believe. Come." The old man motioned her forward and descended to the main level, where he pointed to the many scenes decorating the walls and ceiling. "A great war began long ago between the forces of light and dark. The daemons, the rebels, were cast from the light to the dark pits of Velok. Legions of luriel hold them off for eternity. In retaliation, the daemons came to destroy our world after the Gods departed, but the luriel saved us and continue to protect us until the Gods return."

Not yet wanting to risk stepping into the street, she followed the priest to an old book under a glass case. Pages yellowed by time and rough-edged from use revealed their illumination in magnificent pictures with text around them and gold lacings framing each page. Its beauty stole her breath.

"The Falamoer, the book of Fal Oroneth. It was written seven thousand years ago by the great prophet Alethea. She wrote the history of the Eternal Gods, who once walked all realms and birthed the luriel and daemons and condemned them to another realm. However, the Gods were destroyed in the process. The two sides are weaker than their predecessors and are strongest in their realm. She wrote about a vision of the Gods returning. We live in the hopes that her vision of unity is fulfilled." Bliss lit upon his face. "It is the cornerstone of our faith."

Myths. All well and good for bedtime stories but nothing more.

She wanted to say there was no such thing, but something inside stopped her. A feeling of homesickness ached in her when she looked upon the painting of a city haloed in golden rays on the ceiling over the alter. Winged beings in gold-accented white robes surrounded it. Part of her felt it was real but it couldn't be. It was all religious nonsense.

Or maybe she didn't want to believe, because if the Gods were real, then the horrible monsters, the daemons, were real too, and she didn't want to believe in such horrors. She believed in the sciences, which explained the universe and its order. And she'd always hated the dark.

She was a product of the Reformation. Her parents had brought her up to believe in the empirical, in what could be proven. The rest was imagination for the rush of being frightened—and she hated being frightened.

"I appreciate the faith lesson," she lied, backing away towards the door. The priest watched her with a patience on his face that belied his true motive—to convert her—but she wasn't going to give him that chance. "But I should really be getting to the train. Really. Thank you...for everything."

She turned and hurried to the door, glad for the chance to have hidden but feeling like he had tapped into the emptiness inside her. The priest's quick lesson on his beliefs left her with an eerie sensation and the feeling like she was missing something, a...unity. She had to get out of there, away from everything, and return home to the comfort of familiarity and tangible surroundings in the present, rather than the imagined worlds of the past. She needed to find herself.

She couldn't wait to get away from the city and the temple.

Lilly reached the door and hesitated. A glance back assured her that the priest had no intention to harass her—he made his way to the alter rather than follow her. She breathed easier but still had one problem.

Slowly, she opened the doors a crack and peered out. The crowds had grown more numerous if anything, perfect for her to hide.

And she saw no sign of the swordsman.

With a reassuring breath, she straightened and slipped out from the temple and hastened to reach the crowds. Anxious for the security of the ride home, she squeezed past people to the small station, seconds before the lev-rail reached it.

Finally. Maybe she could have some peace of heart and soul.

If only the nagging sensation of seeking unity would go away.

Damn Rian for leaving her heartbroken.

# Chapter 2

**T** he thunder of Torek's roar shook the caverns of Velok. From the inner chambers to eternity, every daemon of Fal Oroneth, known to creatures from beyond as the Shadow Realm, would know the daemon lord's anger.

Standing among the other frael, the generals of Torek's army, in the dark cavern of the court of the Lord of Velok, Darrac didn't flinch. His wings remained closed, his tail still, and his arms folded with his claws closed. As one of the top generals, he had their leader's favor, along with every other frael who had successfully vanquished numerous celemae, the corporeal luriel, the beings they had fought since the Sundering ended the rule of the Eternals. He didn't need to fear.

The daemons of Velok should have conquered the Gray Realm long ago. However, even the strongest daemons could not spawn, unlike the luriel, who broke off pieces of themselves and attached those pieces to human souls to reincarnate into new generations as celemae, who later ascended from the Gray Realm as full luriel to add to their numbers.

But the celemae humans, the fledgling luriel, could be destroyed and the part of the luriel attached destroyed with them.

Another celemae had been discovered, not yet aware of her true self in her mortal body, but the daemon assigned to eliminate her had failed.

One disadvantage of the luriel's method of reproducing was the delayed awareness, a weakness that the Lord of Velok had learned to take advantage of long ago. The daemons felt the awakening of the luriel fire, the energy of Fal Oroneth. When that happened, Torek sent out a daemon to eliminate them before they recognized the enlightenment and joined the ranks of the Pallora Fen, the ancient order of celemae humans who prepared to ascend.

Tarisk had failed, killed by one of the Pallora Fen. The problem was that the more experienced celemae had detected the awakening luriel spirit. Like the daemons, they felt the new celemae awaken and protected them. Given the opportunity, the Fen would recruit this one. That couldn't be allowed.

Torek quieted, leaving the generals breathless. No one dared move.

Darrac could complete the mission—he had many times—but he had other preparations to make. Let Torek send one of the other daemons.

Darrac let out a gust of contempt through nostril slits and waited. He would soon have their legions ready to attack the luriel in their shining city and set his plan in motion to unseat Torek.

"Darrac, you have something to say?" Torek's voice grated and growled through sharp teeth and fangs. His horns curved down and around his head. He was the largest frael, clear even while he sat upon his throne of stone, the ruler since the beginning of memory. Those who dared to challenge him disappeared. The rest cowered at his might. Darrac neither cowered nor challenged. He would never win, not in a direct confrontation. But he had learned a few tricks from previous encounters with the mortals of the Gray Realm. Torek had never set a claw in that world.

"No, my lord."

"Unfortunate. I now seek your counsel." Red eyes flared in a warning of Torek's anger.

Darrac should have held his breath. Now, he had no choice but to speak. "A thought only, my lord. Our powers are weakened upon entering the Gray Realm. Tarisk was a fool to expose himself so soon."

"He obeyed my command to expedite the execution of the celemae."

"Of course, my lord. But in any encounter with the celemae, caution is warranted. The Pallora Fen and luriel will always be near. Observation is prudent to assess the situation prior to engaging the enemy when we are so weak upon emerging in the Gray Realm. Tarisk was known for his carelessness."

"You supported his choice."

Of course he had! Tarisk was working his way to being one of the favored of their lord. Darrac saw him only as a challenger. With Tarisk gone, Darrac had one less problem to deal with. He couldn't say that, however. Admission would be his destruction.

"I thought it a way to...challenge him." A partial truth, depending on one's interpretation of the word "challenge".

Torek's nostril slits flared, his gray lips curled back in a snarl. The Lord of Velok rose from his rocky throne, towering above his generals and servants, and Darrac, whom he approached. His heavy steps crunched over stone.

Darrac twitched his tail, agitated and threatened by the Lord's presence but resisting the unconscious expression of it. Had Torek seen through his charade?

"I wonder who else you would challenge."

Darrac stood his ground, despite the head of height Torek had over him, but he avoided those red eyes. Meeting them would be taken as a direct challenge. "No one, my lord. I seek to prepare your legions for your conquest of Arthan, to reclaim the home of the Eternals. They must know what they face and understand the enemy."

Fiery breath blew over Darrac's darker gray skin. He watched the claws held out from the body and the tail lashing side-to-side warning of Torek's foul mood and prepared to act if the Lord attacked, no matter how insufficient any move may be.

"Perhaps you're right." Torek whirled and strode away.

Darrac let his shoulders sink. He had pulled it off.

"To be sure it gets done right, the task falls on you, Darrac."

The taunting threat heavy in the Lord's words tightened around him.

"Since you've had experience and seem to know how best to handle this situation, I want _you_ to go and destroy this celemae." Torek's jagged, scarred wings opened and his tail twitched.

"Of course, my lord." Darrac read the posture. The Lord of Velok knew exactly what Darrac had planned. Torek had been the leader for far too long to fall for a feign of innocence. This was a test and a way to see him fail and lose his authority among the others.

Darrac would have to step lightly in the Lord's presence...

When he returned triumphant.

# Chapter 3

**L** illy swiped away a tear burning her eyes and sniffed back the rest threatening to fall. Stupid lonely night and stupid love story fiction. That should have been her and Rian, a happily ever after. Instead, her heart stung yet.

Get over him. He doesn't deserve the brain space.

Easier said than done.

To escape the video and the memories it sparked, she hurried to the small kitchen. While grabbing a glass from a cabinet, she flashed back to the way Rian used to sneak up behind her when she thought he still sat on the sofa waiting for her return. For a fleeting second, she could feel his arms embrace her, but the cool of the air betrayed her.

Damn him!

She slammed the cabinet door harder than intended and filled the glass at the faucet.

"Think about something else!"

How about the stranger on the street yesterday? That was something else.

The danger had been something else, accompanied by a dark foreboding feeling that had frightened her.

Lilly shivered. That definitely took her mind off the longing. The fear came back fresh, but she excused the cold that gripped her as a result of having the air cooler set too low. The cold made for better sleeping, especially when she loved to snuggle under the comforter with Rian.

Wrong thoughts.

At this rate, it was going to be a long vacation. She had to find some way to keep busy.

Tomorrow. That day was gone.

Tomorrow, she would take a train out to one of the old historical sites and head north to visit her parents, or maybe call up friends she hadn't seen since she and Rian had been serious.

Or, rather, since _she_ had been serious, since apparently he hadn't been.

The return to loneliness squeezed her heart in a noose. Her fingers matched it by tightening on her glass, which she noticed in time to relax.

She needed to get away, no doubt about it.

She needed to replace Rian.

There was no use stewing about it and agonizing again. A whole day had passed of doing nothing on her first day of vacation. Tomorrow, she would do something for herself and put Rian aside once and for all. He had left and it would be his loss. She had cried enough tears over him.

Lilly finished the water and returned to the sofa. She stretched out until her eyelids grew too heavy to stay open, when she crawled into bed.

Under the weight of the covers, she drifted off to sleep, her heart feeling more solid with her decision to finally let go and move on.

Dreams immersed her in another world.

She stood amid a large, round platform surrounded by tall columns. Around her, faces materialized from a mist. Exquisite in their refinement, she could only stare in awe that any men and women of such austere beauty existed. The simple long coats and tunics and perfectly-pressed pants accentuated their height, making her feel small by comparison.

They gathered in groups of conversation and the platform expanded. The columns slid away to the distance while the platform filled with more of the strange people.

"May I have your attention," a woman's voice broke in.

Conversations silenced and the people turned to the center, which was raised like a dais.

"Lo'Rella has made an astounding discovery, as many of you know." The woman with the light brown, almost red hair turned with a smile but in movements as crisp and precise as someone used to authority. She acknowledged with a stretched arm a woman with blonde hair set aglow in the sunlight.

"I am pleased to report that we have discovered a new source of power to replace the failing nuonir. Through the extended trial and error of our esteemed Assemblage Ershante, we have been developing a substance with the potential to reverse the conceit of our predecessors."

Applause burst from the audience and the blonde woman gave small nods of acknowledgement to several before the approval died down.

"Furthermore," the speaker said. "We will no longer require the resources of other realms. Many in our cities have expressed concern about the effects on inhabitants of those other realms, and this will put an end to their objections. We have outlived our world, but we will not depend on others. This substance will correct the flaw that has condemned us."

She paused and several heads bobbed in agreement and a few murmurs circulated among the groups.

"What is..." The question asked from the group faded with the scene.

In an instant, the day of her dream became night and chilled.

Lilly shivered and snuggled under her comforter. The prickly sensation came again, like it had right before the man with the sword attacked.

At that memory, she froze. Could he have found her?

How? The apartment building had high-level security.

This was silly; she was acting like a frightened child. She hadn't been afraid of the dark since she was ten.

Something whispered from the dark recesses, something sinister.

There was her reason for being afraid.

She inhaled sharply. "Who's there?"

All conscious thought vanished.

_Wake up! Run!_ A small voice called from a distance.

Lilly slowly peered over the edge of her comforter. The outlines of familiar objects were barely distinguishable in the almost pitch black of a rare moonless time of the night. Sweat stuck her pajamas to her chest and back and chilled her.

She scanned the room, reassured that she lay in her bedroom alone, and took a deep breath.

_Listen! Beware!_ Something inside her shouted a warning that rang through her like a siren and shook her into full alertness.

A moment later, she felt it again, the same cold dread from after work. It blew through her like ice, darkening through her mind to crystallize into an immobilizing fear.

Something or someone was near, but she had seen nothing.

The warning sense inside her pushed her to move, but she didn't want to. She wanted to go back to sleep. Her mind was playing tricks. In no way could that man have found her there. She had lost him in the crowds.

Ridiculous! He was not there. If he'd found a way in while she slept, she wouldn't be alive to wonder. He had no reason to watch her sleep, and she would have seen his outline or at least a shadow like a man, which she was glad was missing.

Still, darkness enveloped her being, cold and empty, the worst feeling she had ever known. She held her hand out and noted the trembling, which matched the racing of her heart. "Must have been a bad—"

A faint rumble came from above. She looked out the window, but saw stars. No clouds, so it couldn't have been thunder.

The rumble again.

She caught movement above her and lifted her eyes.

Ice raced down her spine.

A smoky cloud of black writhed and bubbled on the ceiling, hiding the center light globe. It spread over the entire ceiling.

Smoke!

Two red slits appeared like eyes opening. A face formed from the shadowy cloud, a nightmarish face. On it, a mouthful of sharp teeth opened.

She put a hand up to protect herself from the nightmare that reached for her, and a light flashed. Her heart racing, she whipped off the covers and ran from the room, through the tiny apartment, and she slipped through the door before it was fully open.

In only a nightshirt with nothing on her feet, she ran down the hallway for the elevator. Holy terror of terrors!

Consumed by fear, she sprinted to arrive at the elevator in seconds and finally stopped and caught her breath, and her thoughts, while waiting for the car.

She dared to look back.

The corridor stood empty and quiet. Too quiet. Not a sound disturbed the night on floor twelve, or thirteen or eleven. Nothing, not even a fire alarm.

Then it couldn't have been smoke. The alarms would be blaring and fire doors would have slammed shut.

But that couldn't have been smoke, not with that face.

She shuddered to think what it could have been.

Except a nightmare.

That had to be it. No other explanation made sense.

Now she had another problem.

What if someone saw her like that? Some impression that would make. _"What happened to you?" "Oh, just spooked out of my apartment by a bad dream." "Must've been some nightmare." "Yeah. Saw a daemon floating above my bed."_

Yeah, nice. Real nice. They'd commit her to a mental institution or say she had watched too many scary vids. She wasn't sure she believed it now that the dread had passed, chased out by the moment of reason after she had slowed down enough to look back. It had to be a dream. Too much sun and too many strange pictures in the temple still circulating through her mind.

What if it was real?

Lilly shook her head. "No." Her voice broke the stifling quiet and she checked her surroundings hoping no one had awakened.

It was nothing more than a bad dream. Ghost stories, nothing else. It had to be. She was stupid to be afraid of the dark. It was only because she lived alone.

Her mind had been playing tricks on her. The face had been some left over fears about being alone the rest of her life. That was it. Her unconscious fears manifesting in her dreams. The psychoanalysts would say something like that.

Still, she hesitated. Part of her chilled at the idea of returning to the bedroom. She couldn't sleep there now, not after the fright she'd had in that empty bed.

She had an option. Rather than the lonely bedroom, she'd stretch out on the sofa and watch something on the viewer to distract herself and help her fall asleep. After being out in the chilly hall in the middle of the night, she was wide awake. Falling back to sleep would take a while. She didn't need to lie awake worrying about something that probably hadn't happened anyway.

Lilly returned to her apartment, found a blanket in the hall closet, and stretched out on the sofa with the viewer glowing on the wall. At least if something happened, she had a full apartment complex of people around. Not that they'd help, but at least she didn't feel quite so alone and scared.

# Chapter 4

**N** ow he understood why Tarisk had failed, if he had even had a chance. The woman was already strong for a fledgling. She turned on her powers from what he guessed was instinct, deflecting his attack and forcing him to breach the boundary in another location; she was one of a few who awoke with such power. He knew how to counter that power, but it would take time to prepare, a risk since the longer he took, the greater her power grew. She would quickly become too strong for him alone if he calculated correctly.

The celemae had taken him by surprise this time, but he would be ready for their next encounter.

Time. Darrac didn't have time for distractions to keep him from fulfilling his plans for taking leadership in Velok. Torek must have sensed his duplicity when sending him on this hunt, and their leader might have suspected this celemae's power. Torek knew Darrac couldn't risk failing, placing him in a precarious position to lose his integrity and, with that, his authority.

Darrac snarled. Torek's legions obeyed _him_ , Darrac. Being gone would give Torek time to regain their loyalty. He'd have to make this quick.

The Gray Realm stole much of his power, including the ability to take on solid form. He suffered in the transition of stepping between realms.

He needed strength. Unlike the celemae birthed into human bodies, he and his fellow daemons had nothing when they crossed the boundary. But there were ways.

He needed what humans had. To build strength, Darrac needed the energy contained in humans, and he knew where to find them.

The crowded city was a perfect place.

Darrac shifted from shadow to shadow in the night, tracking the web of human presences around the bright spots of Pallora Fen to the darker energies. That darkness came from humans—greed, lust, anger, and so much more. It beckoned him like a gourmet meal. He would savor the feast.

In an alley outside a building emitting a thumping beat, a group of young men harassed a pair of scantily clad women. The collective emotions whet his appetite. Too long had it been since he fed upon humans, one of the many pleasures of the Gray Realm.

Where to start?

Without a body, he could take them all at once. Delicious!

The women cried, their fear and pain strong, but the men giving in to their desires for power over others were far richer morsels. So corrupt and young!

Darrac descended on the group.

"Hey! What's going on?" one of the men holding the women down looked around.

"Rax!"

"What is it?"

"Kain!"

Fear crested around Darrac in a delicious feast. A banquet fit for a daemon. He absorbed them completely. They choked and sputtered, but in seconds, it ended.

Six sets of clothes fell to the pavement.

Fear emanated like a fine wine from the women.

Darrac finished them. Strength returned, and with it, he formed a new body, one acceptable in that realm and in which he could hide from the Pallora Fen. His power would be muted and his presence camouflaged. He stood and turned over human hands and, in the light from a single working light at a door down the alley, looked down at a familiar body. Cold night air on bare skin amused him like the feel of hard pavement beneath his feet. Years had passed since he had worn a human skin, a mere blink in the lifetime of an immortal daemon.

He reached up to the hair covering his head and pulled a black strand within his field of vision tinted red in the orange glow of the light—all the same that he remembered. He'd bet he wore the same face—it was always the same. Although as a daemon he had no gender, he had only ever been able to take one appearance every time he became human.

But he didn't have time to think about it. He shook out the clothes left in the alley and dressed, trying on different pants and shirts until he found those that fit best. This world didn't accept nakedness. Clothes were practical in the cold, he supposed—one of the weaknesses tolerated by real humans. Although neither hot nor cold affected his comfort, he needed to blend in. These clothes were less than suitable in fitting and style, but they were a start. He would obtain others when he had the chance.

The feeding had restored his strength but it was not yet enough. A little more and he could face the fledgling.

But the Pallora Fen would be aware of his presence in that realm. In the same way that he felt the taint of the luriel within them emanating the aura of the Shadow Realm, they would feel his presence, especially the spurt of power he gained when he fed. The energy of beings from the Shadow Realm stood out like beacons against the encompassing energy of the Gray Realm, but by absorbing creatures of that realm, their energies became his camouflage.

After checking the pockets of all the clothes in the alley, he pulled out three credit chits and shoved them in a pocket of the black pants he had pulled on. Money would be handy in that realm.

Darrac grinned and adjusted the coat, which was snug over his broad shoulders. The humans were smaller than he would have liked. He would need some better-fitting clothes to blend in and peered cautiously from the alley to the street. Seeing no one, he stepped out.

Although they couldn't blink there in an instant, the Fen wouldn't waste time investigating. One-on-one he could take them at his full strength, but the Fen often traveled in pairs for that reason, and he wasn't at the strength required to take on two at once. They could erase his existence. He was most vulnerable in the Gray Realm. Like the Luriel in Fal Oroneth, the celemae of the Gray Realm had the power to dissipate daemons forever.

At ease once again in a human body, he returned his attention to the target. The woman wasn't in that area. She was miles away.

He could blink and be there, but that meant using power and weakening himself to face her. And it meant alerting the Pallora Fen.

No. He had to find another way, something more subtle. They would be watching her and ready for him.

He knew what she felt like, a fledgling celemae, albeit brighter than most. He could use human transportation to return to her, sparing his power for when he needed it most, and strike when she least expected it.

That was the best choice.

Along the way, he would find food to prepare him for the encounter.

# Chapter 5

**W** hat sleep came on the lumpy sofa was restless, filled with dark corners and monsters. The daemons from myth couldn't have been real, but the vision had been enough to scare her out of her apartment and into her dreams. Luckily, none of her neighbors had awakened.

Were daemons real? The diviner in the temple had believed, even to point out the secret tunnel with the wards against them. Most people didn't believe, but religions had gained disfavor over two centuries ago. Only a couple small temples remained; the temple near Jemini Tower being one of the few.

The diviner's words haunted her. No one had ever seen these beings, but some believed. She had never believed, and she didn't want to start.

Last night had been her imagination playing tricks. Nothing more.

Lilly shivered and snuggled deeper under the blanket. The sofa had been an uncomfortable bed, but at least she didn't have to risk a return to last night's terror. It couldn't have been real.

But if it wasn't, then she was going crazy.

The sun glaring through the crevice between other high-rises outside her balcony door chased out the last of her ability to sleep. Morning had come. Sooner or later, she would have to face being crazy. If there had been a monster, she was sure it would have chased her down by now.

Clean clothes awaited in the bedroom. Although she could avoid it, delaying would only make her more restless than the little sleep she had after the fright.

She took a deep breath and stood. With the blanket around her, Lilly limped through the hall to the bedroom.

Outside the door, she hesitated. Her blood ran cold at the vivid memory of the red eyes and the deathly face that had formed in that black cloud bubbling along the ceiling.

No. It had been a dream, a bad dream. It wasn't real. It was gone. And she wasn't crazy.

No matter how much she tried to excuse it, the image came back in vivid detail, along with the dread it inspired.

Lilly swallowed and crept to the doorway. _Nothing is there. It was only a dream_.

Holding her breath, she peered around the edge...

The bed sheets and comforter were thrown back the way she had left them.

The ceiling was normal.

A sharp exhale rushed from her, sinking her shoulders and her body. She stepped inside and dropped onto her bed, the worry melting away.

"Only a dream...a very bad one."

Still, something nagged at her inside and she looked up with a shiver. It had seemed so real.

Rian would have known what to say, how to comfort her.

No more of him!

Despite her attempts to forget the fresh grief of her heart torn asunder, all the feelings stabbed her with the betrayal.

She stepped out from the bedroom to the sitting room and opened the balcony door. There, she paused and gazed out at the city. She wanted to call him, to be with him. They had been so perfect together, until he broke her heart.

The city blurred in her vision. She leaned against the door frame and wiped her eyes. This was no time to cry, but she couldn't help herself. All the heartache and yesterday's scare caught up to her to pour out. She needed someone to talk to, especially after last night.

She needed company, other people. The thought of another night alone terrified her. And if it happened again, either others would see it and the terror would be real or they would confirm that she was crazy. Neither option was acceptable. A full day off needed to be filled.

Lilly sniffed back her grief and wiped her eyes. No more. It did no good to think of him. He was gone, and she was going to erase him with new memories.

# Chapter 6

_"D_ _aemons!" The call rang out._

Rows of glowing beings in white and gold robes stood upon the perimeter wall-walk. At the blare of a horn against the encroaching darkness, they spread their hands in unison and clasped one another's. In an instant, the boiling shadows bearing down upon them in an immense wave splashed against an invisible barrier, which flared at the contact. Shrieks of pain pierced the air. The sunlight gleamed over a wondrous land behind the barrier and a haunting darkness beyond.

A black shape rose out of the others and bellowed an angry threat...

_Beware!_ The voice rang through her head with the fading of the scene.

Lilly yawned and stretched. She rubbed her eyes and checked the digital clock on the nightstand next to her bed. Almost dinner time. She had slept all afternoon, making up for the rough night. Better dreams had come but still haunted her with strange imagery. Nevertheless, it had taken her from the loneliness for a while. The morning had dragged on in misery.

At least she'd stay awake to have fun with her friends tonight, and she needed that.

The chime of the doorbell broke the silence around Lilly. Who could it be? She wasn't expecting anyone. Her friends had agreed to meet her at the restaurant.

She sat up from her bed and stretched again. She had needed that sleep. Now she must have slept too much. Waking up would not be easy, and she hated the foggy feeling left in her head.

The door chimed again.

_Yes. Yes. I'm coming._ Whoever it was couldn't be that important. No one could get in except other residents or staff.

Lilly's breath stuck on that thought—what if someone had seen her flee through the hall last night?

No. Please, no.

Cringing at the thought but needing to satisfy the nagging dread, she crossed the sitting room to the door and peered through the peep hole. A strange woman stood outside, not one of the neighbors she recognized. From the distortion, she appeared plain—no makeup or special style to her shoulder-length hair. Her clothes were nothing fancy, just a plain black top and exercise pants.

It all left a bigger mystery of what she might want.

"Who is it?" Lilly called through the door.

"A friend." The woman's voice had a gentle quality that made Lilly want to trust her, but she held back.

"I don't know you."

"I know you, Lilly. I need to speak with you."

How did she know her name? How had this woman found her? Could she be a resident on one of the lower floors?

"Please. I haven't much time," the woman said, her eyes looking at her like she could see through the tiny glass in the door. "A friend sent me."

"Which friend?" And why would anyone she knew send a stranger to her door? Why would the door guard let her in?

"Actually, you don't know him as a friend yet, but he is."

That made no sense and confirmed that this had to be a trick. "I'm sorry. I don't open the door for strangers."

"Good. Look, I know you're skeptical. I've been in your shoes. Please, Lilly. Please trust me; your life is in danger."

"Danger?" She shuddered but shook off suspicions.

"Yes. Grave danger."

Overwhelmed by curiosity, Lilly opened the door. "What danger?"

The woman glanced down the hall and back to her. "Can we talk inside?"

"Why not here?" In the open, where others could see if the woman attacked her.

"I don't think your neighbor in twelve-G needs to know everything."

Lilly glanced out. The thump of a door closing reached her.

The woman was right about the neighbors. Bad enough Mrs. Kelman had heard that little bit. Now the rumors about her being hunted by some super secret terrorist cell would spring up; with her job analyzing data from the moon bases, someone usually suggested it. Most people didn't believe the woman anymore, but someone somewhere probably did, and the dash down the hall last night wouldn't help. For all she knew, the old bag had witnessed it.

She sighed in defeat and stepped aside, holding the door open.

"Come in." She hoped she didn't regret this; the woman seemed trustworthy enough.

"Thank you." The woman slipped off her shoes on the mat while Lilly closed the door and locked it. "You're probably wondering...I'm Jazmin, but most people call me Jaz."

"I'm wondering why I'm in danger." But the name helped. She shivered, despite the warmth of the afternoon blowing in through the open windows. Part of her believed this strange woman, this Jaz, although she wondered if it was some kind of hoax. "Who's threatening me?" Did she know something about the man with the sword that had attacked just a couple days ago?

Jaz pushed her loose hair behind her ear and examined the sofa and chair in the sitting room. Rather than sit where Lilly expected, the woman took a seat on the floor.

Lilly sat on her sofa.

After situating herself in a cross-legged position with her back to the seat, the woman looked up with a radiant glow on her face in spite of the concern etched into it. "It's not who, but what."

"What?"

"A daemon."

"Daemon?" Was this Jaz some sort of religious zealot? Maybe she shouldn't have let the woman inside, but something inside Lilly insisted on hearing what she had to say. Besides, after her fright last night, she was more curious than ever about daemons.

"A frael, likely, one of the strongest of Torek's servants."

"Torek? Who or what is that? What's a frael?"

The woman shook her head, a frown on her face. "I'm sorry. You probably think this is crazy talk."

"Uh..." She pressed her lips together to cut off the sarcastic agreement. After talking to the priest in the temple, she had to wonder if the woman was a worshiper. Maybe he had sent this woman to convert her.

Jazmin's easy smile reassured her. "I'm not crazy, and neither are you." She paused and bit her lip. "You have no religious leanings?"

"None."

"That's good and bad. Good that you have nothing to potentially unlearn. Bad, because you're probably a skeptic of what I have to say, but it is the truth. Please hear me out. Whatever you believe you know about our world, our universe, this _realm_ ...isn't real."

Whatever that meant.

"I see the confusion on your face. Let me start at the beginning."

"About the daemon thing and stuff?" Although she wanted to shove the woman out and forget any of it, she felt a calm peace radiating from the woman that made her want to listen. Lilly slid closer, and the turmoil of the last day softened within her to something tolerable.

"Yes, stuff. A lot of stuff I don't have time to explain, but I'll tell you what I can." Jaz's gray eyes stared into the distance.

"Beyond the understanding of science, other realms exist that we can't see or touch. One of them we became aware of thousands of years ago. We call it the Shadow Realm, but its inhabitants know it as Fal Oroneth. Whatever name you assign, it's a far different place than our universe, our world, and much older. There are forces in this Shadow Realm that have been at war about twenty thousand of our years, since an event called the Sundering.

"Only a few histories exist since before the Reformation, when all the supposed holy books were destroyed. Actually, most were histories of the beings of the other realm. In our past, humans used the story of the daemons to frighten whole nations into falling in line to their teachings. The Reformists decided not to allow such 'abusive lies' to perpetuate for the sake of inflicting control of one population over another, so they discredited religion and all but outlawed it."

Lilly nodded. Much of this was taught in school. Throughout the history of Ahlias, wars came and went, dictators and monarchies, republics rising and falling, many of them believing they acted according to the plans of some higher being or beings. People stopped believing and arguing who was right or wrong and started rationalizing, bringing in the most peaceful era of Ahlias history.

"There are beings. Some seek to nurture; others to destroy."

"Good and evil?" She'd heard those bedtime stories.

Jaz shrugged. "I suppose, but they're the same, just on opposite sides."

"Like a war?"

"You could say that." Jaz took a deep breath and continued, "While we think of theirs as the Shadow Realm, they know ours as the Gray Realm, because in this, all is a mix of light and dark, luriel and daemon."

"What are luriel?"

Jaz's eyes sparkled. "The beings who nurture and create. But their powers are weak here, like daemons are. The energies do not mesh without some help, which is why they chose us."

"Energy, like electricity?"

"Not quite. Now is not the time to go into detail. That will be Mychel's task."

"Who's Mychel?"

"Your assigned mentor."

Assigned mentor? Not Jaz?

It made an interesting story and Lilly wanted to shake it off as ludicrous, but that same gut reaction that said Lilly could trust Jaz gave her the feeling this was real, the same feeling she'd had in the temple while hiding.

Jaz stiffened a moment and relaxed. She took a deep breath with her eyes closed. "He's near."

"This Mychel?"

"No. The daemon sent to hunt you."

Lilly shivered. The image of red eyes and the emergence of a hideous face returned.

"Listen." Jaz's eyes focused intently on her, holding her. "You must focus on the piece of luriel inside you. You have the power to eliminate him if you accept Enlightenment."

"Enlightenment?" This was too much to take in at once. Jaz needed to slow down.

"Yes. The true connection with the luriel of the Shadow Realm. Mychel will show you." Jaz stiffened, and her breath stopped.

"Are you okay?" Lilly nudged her, but the woman sat frozen. _Don't die._ She didn't need the woman keeling over in her apartment. On top of all the weird stuff happening lately, though, it wouldn't surprise her.

"I'm fine." Jaz took a deep breath, her face relaxing. Peace radiated from her, a calm like that of a woman who had accepted her fate.

Lilly sat back with a frown. "You don't look fine."

"I'm near Ascension. The luriel inside me will return with my spirit to the Shadow Realm. I'll join my brethren in the war. I am close now. Do not be afraid. I'm returning home. Someday you'll know the joy."

"Pardon my saying, but it looks uncomfortable."

Jaz shook her head, her eyes closed. "No. The spirit is preparing the body. It won't last." When she opened her eyes, they glazed with unshed tears. "It's beyond words, Lilly, a joy you'll one day know. I'm honored to have met you, and I hope to again when you're ready." She frowned and wiped her eyes. "Beware the daemons. This one has fed today and will come for you, if he has not already. He'll extinguish your soul and kill you. If that happens, you'll cease to exist in any realm."

"All...right." Lilly shuddered at the possibility. It couldn't be real, but she couldn't deny what she had seen and that frightened her.

"I see your doubts." Jaz gave her an understanding smile that sent a pang of guilt through Lilly. She thought turning the woman away would be easy. "I understand completely, Lilly. I was once like you. We all doubted the truth when we first heard it. But it's real. Very real. Once you connect to the Shadow Realm, you'll understand. Mychel will show you."

"What if I don't want to?" This Shadow Realm sounded horrible if daemons lived there.

"You will. Your connection will grow in time, but with training you'll learn to control it. You already feel the hidden layers of the world around you, I'll bet, a calling to something. You'll search everywhere, try everything, but nothing will satisfy the quest, because it lies within you. That is the Shadow Realm. It's invisible to us, but a part of us. Like an energy field, we feel the negative and positive forces. Mychel will show you how to control it. Trust him."

Jaz's smile turned into a cold frown. "The daemons will use your naiveté against you."

She stiffened again, her fingers balling into fists. "Not..." She ground the words through clenched teeth. "...Yet. I'm not done."

"You're sure you're all right?" What on Ahlias was happening?

"I'll be fine. But I have—" She took a deep breath and relaxed. "I haven't much time. It's Mychel's job to show you, but we can't take the chance. The daemon is close now. Most celemae don't feel their presence unless they use their powers, but I'm nearly free of this body. I've...connected with the other realm. The luriel call to me. I can't stay long. They need me. But I came to protect you and now I can't. Lilly, you must know."

"Know what?" Lilly leaned close but not too close. The woman looked to be in severe pain and Lilly wanted to help her, but something held her back.

"You possess a special light, a piece of the luriel. When you need strength, look within. It's there. That peace will defeat the daemon. It feeds off fear, hatred, lust, greed, anything negative. Control your emotions and trust in yourself. You are celemae."

"Celemae?"

Jaz's face twisted in an expression of pain. "One of...the luriel born...to this realm. You will realize...Ah!"

The woman pulled her knees to her chest and breathed deeply, trembling. Jaz took several deep breaths and calmed. "You'll soon see. The Pallora Fen will teach you."

Pallora Fen? Now, who were they? This woman threw out too many names—celemae, Shadow Realm, daemons... It all twisted and wrapped through her mind into a tangle of confusion. It sounded like religious nonsense, the wild tale of a crazy, dying woman.

"I'll fight Ascension as long as I can. And I hope to see Mychel one last time." Jaz smiled, her eyes gazing beyond the glass deck doors. She sat in silence for several minutes.

And who was Mychel? Some old lover or part of her elaborate trick?

"I was his mentor, and he will be yours."

Lilly shook her head. Had the woman read her mind?

None of this could have been real, from the nightmare to this woman and her wild story. She didn't believe any of it. She couldn't. The nightmare must have come from what she had seen in her brief visit in the temple.

Uncomfortable with thinking about daemons and luriel and some predestined future she didn't want, Lilly jumped to her feet with the notion of doing something, anything to take her mind off it. "Can I...um...get you something to drink, or something?"

Jaz waved her offer away. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"You're sure? It's not any trouble."

"No. Don't bother. I only need to focus." A corner of Jaz's mouth curved up with a snuff of amusement. "Funny. For ten years, I've practiced meditating and connecting to the Shadow Realm, eager for Ascension. Now that I've achieved a pure connection, I need to hold back."

"Are...Are you dying?"

"No." Jaz fixed her with an illuminating smile that sent a profound peace through Lilly that she longed to keep. "I'll travel to the Shadow Realm and join those who have gone before. I'll cease to be in this world, but it isn't like dying. Nothing truly ends; it merely transforms."

"Oh....How do you travel to this Shadow Realm? Where is it?" At least she could keep her talking. That might help.

"All around us, through us. They occupy the same space but exist in different realms, different dimensions, I guess you could say."

Too weird, but possible. Maybe. Scientists debated the existence of dimensions other than those known to them. It could happen.

"It's the closest explanation." Jaz shrugged and laid her head on her knees. Her eyes drifted closed.

Was she dying here? Now? This couldn't be happening. First the stranger the other day, then the daemon nightmare. Now a woman dying in her apartment? Could things get any worse?

"Be careful." Jaz yawned. "Sorry. Of all the times to happen. I wish Mychel would hurry. I've been fighting it since he called and asked me to protect you until he could get here. I can't stay much longer." She took a deep breath and let it out, her shoulders dropping. "So tired..."

The woman's arms fell limp at her sides.

"Jaz?"

"Hmm?"

Lilly watched her for a few seconds but Jaz didn't move, except for one last breath. Hesitant to prove her suspicions right but needing to know, Lilly slid off the sofa and knelt beside the strange woman.

"Jazmin? Hey." She nudged her shoulders.

When the woman tipped over, Lilly startled. This couldn't be happening. Why her? Why now? She backed away from the lifeless body.

The woman had died in her apartment.

Her heart thumped against her chest. How could this happen? Why had she let her in? What should she do now? What would Jaz's friend, Mychel, say? Would he blame her?

_What am I supposed to do?_ She didn't want to be taken away by Peacekeepers on murder charges.

A whisper reached her, shimmering through her with a peace that calmed her mind and brightened. When she closed her eyes, the glow filled her. Lilly sucked in a deep breath, the scent of flowers faintly reaching her and she imagined herself standing in a blossoming meadow. It cleansed her and soothed her so she wanted to drink of its purity.

She opened her eyes and stared at the light encompassing the woman's body. It filled her with sweet emotions that welled up until her eyes burned. The light flared and faded to the shape of a person.

"I see it now," a voice like the melody of a song said with a sweetness of sound that touched her heart. "You have been chosen for something greater, Lilly."

Something greater? Before she could question whether it was real, the light faded.

Lilly blinked away the spots, seeing the negative dark image of a person with each blink.

Her eyes focused on the pile of clothes left where the woman had collapsed. Empty clothes. No body remained.

For a while, she stared, running the scene over in her mind until it all merged together.

This was crazy! It couldn't have happened.

But it had. She had seen it. It had to be real. Had that been the Ascension that Jazmin had mentioned? Where had the woman's body gone?

She knelt and touched the clothes—still warm—but nothing else remained. The woman had vanished.

Lilly lifted the clothes, studying them for any sign, but found nothing. Either she was going crazy, or the last couple of days had really happened. Or she was still asleep and this was all part of some strange joke of a dream.

_Wake up, Lilly. Wakey, wakey._ She shook her head, wishing it was that easy. She was awake. This _had_ happened and, although the impressions faded, when she blinked, she still saw the negative of the bright light that had been there. She couldn't deny it. Something weird had definitely crashed into her life.

"Someone explain this to me." She looked around, half expecting some creature to descend on her, but nothing came. Except for the soft rush of the breeze from the open balcony door, quiet pervaded the apartment. Could anyone in the Shadow Realm hear her? Would they answer if they could?

It had to be real. Otherwise, what had she just seen?

_You're_ not _going crazy_ , she told herself.

Lilly looked down at the clothes hanging over her arm. That was real.

"I need to get out." A drink with friends was likely the only thing that could put it into perspective.

# Chapter 7

**T** he large club was packed and noisy with barely room to move, except on the dance floor below the upper deck, which arched around half of the area like a theater setting. At one time it had been used as a theater.

Lilly took a breath of the energy thumping through the club. Sweat and perfume mingled into an aroma permeating the air.

Her friend Trisha led their group of four through the tangle of bodies bouncing and weaving to the throbbing music, the short red dress tight to her curves. The heavy beat drummed in Lilly's chest, carrying her feet to the rhythm. A few men made eye contact but returned their attention to their partners.

Part of her ached to have Rian with her. _No. Not now._ He was gone, and she wished she had someone she could talk to, to share her concerns and know that someone was on her side in the freak show that had become her life. He would have assured her about these daemons.

But he wasn't hers any more, and she didn't know who would listen without telling her she was crazy.

That's why she was there—to refocus her attention on something else and let loose. After the strange woman had vanished, she needed to get out among the living, normal people. She had called up her friends to escape, not wanting to wait for Jaz's friend Mychel to show up; for all she knew, he was even crazier and more dangerous. A quick shower and change into a clinging black dress that showed off her curves, and she had joined her friends for dinner. They talked and joked like nothing had happened, and Lilly was grateful, but she said nothing about her experiences of the last few days.

They found a place to sit at a table just vacated along the side of the dance floor.

"Now to get some drinks," Lilly shouted over the music. She smoothed back her hair worn loose over her bare shoulders.

Trisha flashed a thumbs-up. Wilsa and Danni didn't notice, their eyes scanning for men. Lilly could not have cared less, but maybe she could find someone to ease the pain of her heart and distract her from the strangeness that had become her life.

A particularly roguish man smiled their way. She fanned herself in a light-hearted attempt at fun and all of them giggled like school girls. He was cute! So was the next. Maybe she had died and gone to some other realm, one where all the guys were hot and none of them would break her heart. In fact, she expected every one of them had _no_ intention of a relationship.

"Did you see that?" Danni leaned close enough for a blue streak among her brown hair to brush Lilly's shoulder. "He's mine, ladies. I saw him first." She squeezed out from behind the table and leaned over. "Order me a toxicola. I'll be back with company." In her tight, thigh-length dress, Danni hurried away.

"We won't see her again." Wilsa rolled her eyes but smirked in the direction their friend had disappeared into the swaying mass of bodies.

Lilly grinned, grateful that her friends had forgiven her so readily.

"One down." Trisha gave a sideways glance to Lilly.

Lilly didn't like that look. It hinted of a hidden agenda. Trisha had been eager to get out, despite the chance to stay home with her boyfriend. She had been the one to say that Lilly needed to move on and had been a cheerleader of pushing her out into the public again.

"Ladies."

Lilly turned to a waitress in tight pants and a low-cut top, her tray laden with a rainbow assortment of mixed drinks in what looked like lab test tubes.

"What can I get for you?"

They each took a shot and paid the waitress, who grinned and moved on to the next group to make a sale for the club.

"To a return of the old ways." Wilsa lifted a vial of cloudy yellow over clear orange.

"Tren." Trisha's eyes sparkled when she said the name and raised her red vial. She already missed him. Then she should understand how Lilly felt.

"To moving on," Lilly said.

"Here. Here," Trisha said.

They clinked their tubes and downed their drinks.

It burned, but Lilly gulped it down to avoid tasting it, and it settled heavily into her stomach.

Trisha leaned close. "About time you joined us again."

"I know. I'm sorry." Trisha had found a way to balance friends and her beau. Lilly regretted not doing the same and wished she could feel optimistic. She studied the vial with its couple drops of orange liquor pooled at the bottom and rolled it across the table to clink with the others in the center.

A feeling of power warmed through her from her middle to her extremities. The initial hit of alcohol; the real effect would come later.

"Hey, ladies."

Lilly looked up.

Her breath caught in her chest. The strong jaw on a face that could have been etched by an artist belonged with that head of thick black hair. His eyes fixed on her with an intensity that trapped her in them, drawing her into a shadow of something dark and enticing. His roguish smile made her insides flip. Maybe life wasn't so bad. She could forget daemons when she saw a face like that.

"Hey, good-looking!" Wilsa slid over and patted the seat next to her.

The stranger gave it only a glance before his eyes fixed on Lilly. "Can I have a dance or buy you a drink?" The rich, mellow voice drowned out the music and filled her with a desire to be close.

She studied his physique beneath the tight shirt and wondered how any man so perfect could be interested in her. But then, he was probably one of those who charmed a woman to bed and left without a word. She didn't want that, but she was there to enjoy herself for a few hours.

A nudge at her side made her blink.

"Go dance!" Trisha pushed her away.

Lilly frowned at her and looked back to the stranger.

He offered a hand. "Dance or drink? Or maybe both?"

Lilly warmed, but not from the alcohol. "Well, not at the same time, I hope." She reached up and took his hand, which clasped around hers with a firm but gentle touch that stole her misgivings. This could be fun. She slid from the booth and let him pull her to her feet.

Her pulse raced when he put a hand on her back to guide her through the crowds to the dance floor.

When they found a place, the thick of the crowds pressed them close. She smiled, caught up in the beat of the music and the smoothness of his movements.

After a couple songs with moments of closeness to him, he made it more permanent and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her hips next to his. The musky scent of his body set off sparks of desire.

Lilly moved with him, lost in the pounding of her heart in time with the music and the sway of his body next to hers. Each sway, each step, she noticed something else about him, an aura that struck deep inside with the feeling that together they were one, that she had found what she sought. The songs changed, but the beat went on with his hand slipping lower down her body.

With her lips near his ear, she asked, "What's your name?"

His warm breath blew on her neck. "Darrac."

"Lilly." She twined her fingers through the thick black hair at the back of his neck and held him close.

When the music slowed, she caught her breath and let a rational head catch up with her lust. She took a deep breath; it was the alcohol. It messed with her head. She needed a breather to regain her senses.

"How about that drink, Darrac?" She could honestly say she was thirsty. And sitting down with a drink would give her a chance to learn more about him. She couldn't make it too easy for him.

A disarming smile spread across his face. He nodded and offered his hand.

She took it, welcoming the ripple of pleasure through her from his touch. That contact erased the pain of her heart. Whether something happened between her and Darrac or not, she knew now that she _could_ move on.

From the table, Wilsa and Trisha waved to her.

Lilly slid her chair close to Trisha, making room for Darrac on her other side, but he didn't sit.

"What'll you have?" he asked.

She turned to him standing over her shoulder and that charming smile that made her heart flutter. For a moment, a sense of fear flashed through her like in the alley the other day and again last night when the daemon had appeared. Lilly shivered but pushed it aside. She didn't need that now. "An Isan Moonrise. Thanks."

He gave a nod and disappeared through the crowds. She watched him go, admiring the view from behind. She hoped he returned and wasn't using the drink as an excuse to leave.

"Go for it."

What? Lilly turned to a smug grin on Trisha's face and a sparkle in her blue eyes.

"Take a chance. You'll never win if you don't play."

"But I barely know him."

Trisha fanned herself. "You two were steaming up the dance floor. I'd say the chemistry is right."

Chemistry. Was that what it was? She'd never been so attracted to a man before, but she had other goals, long-term. "I'm not looking for a one-night stand."

Trisha shrugged and took a swallow from the glass in front of her. "You need to loosen up, Lil." Before she could object, Trisha fixed her eyes on her. "And forget about Rian. I thought that's why you called."

"I did." Sort of, she wanted to add but didn't.

"So, why not?"

"I'm not ready for that."

"No commitment..."

"That's just it. I _want_ a commitment, Trish. I _want_ someone I can trust and love, who loves me back. I was so in love—" Feelings resurfaced, pouring from within to burn her eyes into tears. Lilly wiped them away before they could fall. Darrac couldn't see. "It'll take time."

Trisha shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to push. But this guy is _hot_."

A smile tugged at Lilly's lips. "There's more to a relationship than looks, and his name is Darrac."

"What?" Wilsa asked. "You mean you want all that trouble?"

Trisha elbowed Wilsa. "Well, _Darrac_ is _hot_ ," she said. "And you deserve someone who can make you look like you just had the best sex of your life. Hopefully he's as good in bed as he is on the dance floor."

Lilly warmed unexpectedly. She was attracted to him and the urge to be with him had been strong. Now it had faded with his departure. He sparked things in her she never thought possible with her inhibitions. After all, Rian had been her first serious relationship and the only man she had given herself to in every way. Making love to him had been easy, natural, and a bonding experience.

She wanted _that_ intimacy, not a hormonal lustfest.

No. If Darrac really was interested, he would have to get to know her before she would go that far.

"Speaking of which..."

Lilly followed Wilsa's gaze through the throng of people. Darrac carried a drink in each hand, a smile on his handsome face. The silvery drink in his right hand he set in front of her.

"Thanks." Lilly took a sip of the minty mixed drink, and he took a seat next to her, his arm around the back of her chair. She should be insulted that he would act so comfortable after just meeting her, but the part of her that longed for someone to hold her let it pass.

"So... _Darrac_..."

Lilly cringed at Trisha's leading statement, afraid her friends would push him away with prying questions.

"What do you do for a living?"

Lilly caught his glance at her a moment before he spoke. "I'm...career military."

Wilsa and Trisha met each other's eyes and nodded. Lilly knew what they thought—Peacekeeper, a tough job but well-compensated.

Lilly turned to him, glad for the start of a conversation and relieved that Trisha hadn't pried too deeply. That would be hers—Lilly's—task in spending more time with him, if she didn't bore him away. She'd been lucky to find Rian.

Despite the grilling by three women, he stayed close to Lilly, his eyes often meeting hers. She saw in them an intensity directed only at her. When he smiled, her heart skipped a beat with excitement. Something sparked in her, especially when he leaned over and asked if they could move on to a table where they could be alone.

"Excuse us, ladies." Lilly winked at Trisha, who lifted her glass in salute.

"Don't have too much fun," Wilsa said.

Lilly slid out of her chair and took Darrac's hand, her drink occupying the other. Like a school girl with her first crush, she walked on air, following him through the crowds to a small table where they could sit and talk.

After she sat, he pushed her chair in for her. On his way around her, his hand slid across her shoulders and gave them a light squeeze. Her insides squirmed. She wanted more of his touch, of the feeling of wholeness that he inspired inside her. This wasn't an effect of the alcohol or her imagination. It was real.

He pulled his chair near hers and sat back, relaxed and confident. Part of her didn't like that. It sent off warning bells. Shouldn't he be at least a little worried about impressing her, or did their dancing give him that confidence?

He took a swallow of his drink as she did hers. The sweet liquor landed hard in her stomach on anxieties about not messing up.

"Where'd you learn to dance?" she asked.

"All over."

"In the military?"

He chuckled and told her stories about learning to dance. Lilly listened, her head growing fuzzy with the drink so she had to work to concentrate. It also loosened her tension and she found herself smiling and laughing with him and sharing her own stories of awkward situations without caring what came out of her mouth.

"But then came Rian." The full brunt of her words hitting her emotions clamped her mouth on saying anything more.

When he put his hand on hers on the table, she stared at it, her vision blurring with unshed tears. She tried to hold them back, but had to wipe them away. "Sorry. It wasn't that long ago."

"On the rebound?" Sympathy deepened his voice.

She nodded and sniffed back the rest that threatened to flow. "Yeah. I'm sorry. Maybe this isn't right."

He squeezed her hand and the pain of her emotions subsided. Darrac's company helped. Whether he was only a rebound guy or not, at least he seemed interested.

"Give it a chance," he said. "Please? You might find I'm more than a good dancer."

Could he be real? A hot guy who liked her and wanted a relationship? Someone had to be toying with her. It would be a cruel trick if that's all this was.

And yet, in his eyes, she saw something sincere.

For a second, she thought his eyes took on a faint redness. However, the moment passed, a trick of the lights reflecting off the retinas. A tingle of fright passed through her and vanished. "All right. Thanks, Darrac."

He squeezed her hand and smiled. "How about another dance, and maybe your code, so I can apologize if I offend you?"

Lilly giggled. The alcohol _had_ gone to her head. He couldn't have said what she thought she heard. "I don't think that would happen, but here..." She pulled a pen from her small purse and wrote her comm code on a corner of a napkin.

He tucked it into his shirt pocket and patted it. "Close to my heart."

"I think we better go dance. You're digging yourself a hole."

He chuckled and offered his hand. She clasped it firmly in hers, and her heart lightened, despite the shadow hanging over it.

This time she danced carefree, laughing and smiling, and finding herself free to enjoy the closeness of a slow dance. Not just a stranger out to seduce her, he had shown her he could be more. She wanted him to be more and snuggled close to him to sway to the slow beat, barely moving.

# Chapter 8

**M** ychel felt the connection that had led him to the busy club and let it guide him through the crowds. In close proximity, the light of the luriel shone brightly. This one had a natural feel for her gift. But that hadn't been the case a while ago, when it had blinked out from his connection.

If Jaz had answered her comm unit when he tried to reach her earlier, after he arrived back in Noren City, she might have been able to tell him what was going on. He had no idea if she had ascended or if something sinister had happened.

He had reached the apartment registered to a Lilly Lowreth to find her gone and no sign of Jaz. After a brief meditation, he had followed the connection to this part of the city. Shortly after, her presence had blinked out, and he feared the daemon had completed its mission. When it revived, relief had poured into him and he continued his search. Once in this neighborhood, he had narrowed her presence to this club. Having seen her in person once before, he knew what she looked like.

But he hadn't expected a slender woman in a tight black dress with dark curls caressing her shoulders. Leaving work the other day, she had been in everyday clothes, like most of the public. Here she was dressed up, and it had worked. On the dance floor within the arms of a man, she swayed with a gentle rhythm.

Did he dare disturb her? Had Jaz met her, or even told her about him? Would Lilly run like she had the other day?

He didn't want to alarm her, but he had to contact her. No more of this missing her and letting the daemons get close. The daemon could be anywhere, even in that club. Unfortunately, it masked its presence. Unlike the celemae, who "broadcast" their strength because of their seeking to form a connection to the Shadow Realm to ascend, daemons hid. Only when they actively used their powers could the celemae feel their presence in that realm.

Mychel hated that. Daemons had the perfect camouflage, until they chose to act. By then it could be too late.

He had to interrupt her.

She'd hate him, he would bet, but it didn't matter; he had to do it. He had hated finding out the truth around the same age and having to give up things he loved in that world in order to free his mind and form the connection with the Shadow Realm. Now, although he missed his favorite sports teams playing and the pleasures money could buy in their world, he could live without them and had found a greater purpose to his life in bringing new celemae to Enlightenment and preparing for Ascension himself.

Lilly would discover the joy and learn in time that everything else was only a distraction.

Mychel watched and waited.

When the slow dance ended and the two looked at each other, he swallowed the guilt rising in his throat. It would pass, but it always hit when he had to confront a fledgling celemae and break up their relationships holding them to that realm.

Now or never. Mychel brushed past other dancers to come up behind her. "Lilly Lowreth?"

She turned. Her eyes widened, and she backed into the man with her. "You! How did you—What do you want from me?"

The man with her frowned and pulled her close, a challenge in his expression and posture that could prove dangerous given his build. Convincing Lilly would be difficult enough without a boyfriend to interfere. This could take some time. Time they didn't have.

"My name is Mychel."

" _You're_ Mychel?" Her face tightened and her eyes narrowed. "You attacked me on the street!"

He clamped his teeth on a grimace and nodded. "I wasn't attacking you. I was protecting you."

"Protecting me?! You were stalking me, like you are now!"

He didn't need this here. Others turned to watch. "Can we discuss this somewhere else?"

"No! Leave me alone."

He had feared this would happen. Now, he had to be extra nice to convince her of his good intentions. "Have you seen Jaz?"

"Hey!" The deep voice drew his gaze up to the man, who stood with a hand on the young woman's shoulder. Something dark passed through Mychel when he met this man's eyes; the man made his threat clear. But Mychel refused to back down in spite of his size disadvantage—he had his sword if necessary.

"Leave the lady alone," the man said over the thumping bass of a new song.

"This isn't about you." Mychel looked down at Lilly again. "Look! Just tell me if you met a woman named Jazmin?"

Her head bobbed in a slow nod and her eyes dropped. "Yeah. I'm sorry but she...She's gone."

Then Jaz had ascended. He would miss her, especially her gentle wisdom, but they would see each other again someday. "When?"

"After she told me some stuff, while we were waiting for you."

He looked up, a spark of hope brightening on his grief. "Then she's with the others."

"I suppose. Look, just leave me alone and I won't call the Peacekeepers. I'm...busy." She twisted to look up at the man with her, who smiled and caressed her cheek.

This would be far harder than Mychel had anticipated. "I can't do that. There's a second daemon after you."

"Second?" Her eyes snapped back to him and her face drained of color.

By her reaction, she understood what he was saying. At least Jaz had been able to explain that much. "Yeah. That 'attack' in the alley? I took care of the first sent after you."

A shadow passed through him, a darkness like a daemon, and was gone in the same instant. Was it there already? Watching them? He had to get her out.

He looked around but saw nothing but bodies dancing amid the flashing colors of light. Those who had considered listening had lost interest.

"Lilly, you have to listen!" He shouted over the tumult of voices and the heavy beat of the music pounding in his chest. "It's here. Now. You're in danger. At least let me get you home."

"What? I don't see anything." She crossed her arms, a challenge for him to prove himself, and swayed into the man with her. "Why should I believe you?"

If that's the way she wanted it, he couldn't do much. "I don't know where it is. They can disguise themselves as humans. It could be anyone here. Please, we need to get you to safety." He gave the other man a long look. Anything was possible, but that would be a bold step for a daemon. He would have to investigate this man, but he didn't have time. All he could do was get her away from him. "You need to learn to protect yourself, and I can show you how."

"Go. Away."

"Please, Lilly! I'm sorry about our first meeting. It was a misunderstanding. But I really need to show you the truth."

The man leaned down and said something in her ear that Mychel couldn't make out.

"Lilly. This is important. I can save your life." He had to get her away from the other man long enough to explain, but if he used force, she would never believe he was there to help her, not after she thought he had attacked her. "Let me teach you."

Her eyes narrowed further, her toe tapping its own rhythm out of sync with the music. A second later, she looked up at the man with her and sighed, her shoulders sinking. "You'll leave me alone if I listen?"

"I can't do that. You'll understand soon. Can we please go someplace safe?"

She dropped her arms abruptly with a huff of annoyance.

"Why can't you leave her alone?" the man said.

"You don't understand. If you care for her, show it. I've been sent to protect her."

The other man tensed but made no move towards him.

"I'll go!" Lilly turned to the other man and said something in his ear, which made him smile. After a quick kiss on the man's cheek, she joined Mychel. "Make it quick, before I change my mind." The words growled from her throat and she marched away with stiff steps.

Good. Now he had his chance to take her from there and at least introduce himself and the Pallora Fen. She would be on the road to Enlightenment soon and forget about this earthly attachment.

* * *

Darrac watched her leave with the celemae. A Pallora Fen, and not just any Pallora Fen but a slayer, judging by the obvious bump of a weapon. Unless he wanted a losing battle, he couldn't risk fighting the man, nor did he wish to expose himself. This Mychel was already aware of a daemon nearby and studied him with suspicion. Darrac would have to tread carefully, and do all he could to forestall her taking the path of Enlightenment. Once she connected to the Shadow Realm, he would have to return to Velok for reinforcements or give up. Either way, he would be forced to admit his failure and would be stripped of his rank. He couldn't risk that, not when he had the support and admiration of most of Torek's forces. He _couldn't_ fail.

His plans had to change and adapt. Had she given in to the drinks he'd encouraged her to take, he could have destroyed her at her weakest moment. This fledgling had a strong will and a bright soul. He would have to chip away at her resolve. Taking advantage of her post break-up need for a companion would win her trust and lower her defenses.

He would succeed, one way or another. It would simply take more time than he had anticipated, time he couldn't afford but would need to prove his strength to the others.

After he finished this mission, he had plans to make to kill Torek and take his place. The leader of Velok had failed too many times. And Darrac wasn't the only daemon dissatisfied with their continual losses to the luriel.

# Chapter 9

**L** illy stepped out of the taxi into a barren street surrounded by buildings with boarded over windows. The world spun and she wobbled. She caught her balance and frowned.

"This isn't my apartment."

Mychel stepped out behind her in the light of a lone lamp on a pole and something shifted under his coat over his left shoulder. "No."

"Where're we? What are up to?" She whirled on him and stepped to catch her balance again, eyeing the open cab door behind him. "Take me 'ome."

"We are home. Home is within us."

He must have been joking.

She looked up at the darkened ruins of an old part of the city and shuddered at the horrid possibilities flitting through her mind. Yet, she felt safest near him; he shone a light that cast aside the darkness. And he carried that sword of his, somewhere...maybe...she hoped.

She shouldn't trust him, but something in her wanted to, like it had in the club. It must have been the drinks fogging her head.

The slam of the cab door startled her. The cab zipped away on repulsion jets, the hum fading and disappearing with the stirring of dust in an obvious hurry to leave that spooky area.

"No—" She didn't want to be left there.

"They're anxious to meet you, Lilly."

She returned her attention to Mychel, her mind jumbling on what she had worried about a second ago.

"Who is?" More than ever, she didn't trust this man and wished she had stayed with Darrac. "Why were you outside my workplace a few days ago?" He hadn't answered any of her questions in the cab. Now she knew why—he intended to finish what he had started.

She wished with all her heart that Darrac would call or had followed to rescue her. If not, she would resent Mychel and his special group beyond forgiveness for ruining her life.

"As a trained celemae, we can sense the Awakening in others, fledglings like yourself. We, the Pallora Fen, try to reach them before the daemons do."

Mychel took a step away and motioned for her to follow. Reluctant but afraid to be left alone in the desolate area, Lilly joined him in entering one of the alleys, but she didn't have much of a choice when she needed him to help her walk because the world wouldn't stop spinning.

In a low voice, he continued, "We've kept our secret for the last seven hundred years without causing a stir to the general public, but the Pallora Fen have been around for thousands of years. There was a time when fear was rampant, daemons razed civilizations, and the Fen were heroes for banishing daemons, but since the Age of Exploration, people turned to science and relegated daemons and luriel to myths. Some religions keep the ideas in their faith, but even religion waned over time. In the Reformation, many celemae died in asylums and for a while, the Pallora Fen were nearly extinct.

"Now, we don't risk exposing ourselves for fear of hospitalizations and drugs for hallucinations, which delay Ascension and give daemons a chance to destroy us."

"Your friend Jaz said something like that." She tried to make one of him out of the blur in her vision. He was almost cute in the office-type sort of way. He had that tidiness about him.

Mychel's eyebrows lifted and his hand pressed her to hurry to a door in a single-floor building completely boarded up. "What did she say?" he asked while their steps crunched on the gravel and industrial debris on the ground.

"She talked about a few things. I don' remember. I's late and I'm tired." And she wanted to see Darrac again. This was all ridiculous. She'd been drinking far too much.

When he put his hand on the wall, a digital scan lit up beneath it. Not what she would expect in a rundown warehouse or whatever it was. It looked like a warehouse from the size and lack of normal windows except right under the soffits.

At a soft click from the door, he pulled it open. "Inside. Quickly."

Before she could object, his shove sent her stumbling forward. Lilly caught herself on something solid and looked about at the shadows. "Where are we?"

A dim light filtered from somewhere ahead, around dead machines and crates of supplies.

"A safe house," he said from over her shoulder.

Damn. She hadn't realized how close he'd come behind her.

"Why?"

"Because you need to understand and prepare for Enlightenment. I want you to be prepared as soon as possible so you can fight off the daemon attacks. They haven't given up on you, and we can't risk losing you. There are so few born into each generation, and daemons still eliminate a couple hundred a year before we can reach them."

Lilly shuddered and tried to step softly with him towards the light ahead. A couple hundred _eliminated?_

"You mean they're killed?" she whispered, afraid of someone overhearing them.

"Worse. A celemae who doesn't know how to defend him- or herself is utterly destroyed—body and soul—so that the part of the luriel attached to their soul is also gone and can't regenerate. That person, that potential luriel, is gone forever. They can't return in a new body and the luriel lose one more in their continuing war in the Shadow Realm. And if the daemons win..."

She tripped on something and stumbled forward, but hands caught her from falling. "Thanks."

In the partial light on his face, she caught a quick smile.

His words untangled in her head and she continued more carefully. "When Jaz...ascended, didn't she die?"

"Death does release the soul from the body and is one way of ascending, but the soul will wander lost for a time if death comes first. Our way—the way of the Pallora Fen—has proven to help those souls reach the Shadow Realm immediately, absorbing the energy of their host body for the strength to cross. Jaz was close to Ascension. What you saw was just that. She didn't die, unless you haven't told me something?"

Lilly shook her head. The memory from earlier rose up. "Her body disappeared. She was...transformed into a being of light."

"Good..." He sounded relieved.

"Good? It looked painful. How can that be good?"

"She was my mentor, my guide, until I found my path. I only wish I could have been there for her." He let out a sigh and stopped at the edge of a large machine that blocked the light. "I was chosen to be your mentor, and I'll be sure you can defend yourself against any daemon."

"And the daemons will kill me if I don't learn your ways?" She blinked at the wobbling of his face in her vision and tried to focus on it, but the deep shadows taunted her.

"Yes. Every celemae they eliminate is one less luriel soldier in the Shadow Realm."

"Why would I want to be a crusader if all I have to look forward to is fighting a war?" She was no warrior. She didn't want to fight in any war, real or mythical. She studied data at the moon bases and sent back adjustments. Her world was logic and math.

She was going to wake up from this dream and have a good laugh.

"If the war in the Shadow Realm is lost, Ahlias and the rest of the universe will cease to exist."

Well, that put it into perspective. What choice did she have? Two: She could accept what he said and go along with it or laugh it off and risk some dark creature attacking her like the other night, or she could say good bye to her life and the world as she knew it. Nice choice. It would be easier if she didn't believe him, but the daemon over her bed and Jaz's Ascension convinced her that there might be something more to her existence. She didn't want to believe it, but she could no longer ignore what she had seen with her own eyes.

She wished he was wrong.

"All right. Fine. Tell me what I need to know."

He stepped into the direct light with a smile and extended an arm towards it.

Curious, Lilly crept around the edge of the machine, leaning on it for balance, to see a circle of men and women sitting on the floor around an old-fashioned oil lantern flickering in the center.

"We all will." He stepped towards the circle, leaving her on the outside to feel conspicuous and awkward.

When the nearest women relaxed and smiled at her, Lilly took the invitation and approached.

"You're all a part of this?" she asked.

"Yes. We are the Pallora Fen," a woman of dark skin like her said. "We are the children of the luriel, the celemae...like you..."

"Lilly," she said with a quick smile.

"Welcome, Lilly. My name is Shira. I trust Mychel has told you about our purpose."

"Kind of." She looked to him in curiosity and the woman's gaze followed.

"I brought her here to be protected while she learns. We can't delay."

Shira unfolded her legs and stood. "Come, Lilly." She indicated the circle, her presence bearing something gentle and inviting that inspired trust, unlike the man who awaited her in the center.

Other eyes opened, watching her with expectation.

Lilly wanted to hide from being the center of attention but could only follow the woman and wish that the ground would quit swaying.

"All right. Wha're we doing?"

"We will teach you to meditate to connect to the Shadow Realm and our brethren." Shira pressed down on her shoulders. "Sit here."

Lilly knelt down in her tight dress.

"Not like that," the woman said.

Mychel joined her and sat down facing Lilly. The faint clink of metal on the cold, concrete floor rang in the room. "Like this."

Crossing her legs was not an option unless she hiked up her skirt. "I'm sorry, but I—"

"Here..." He removed his jacket and handed it to her with an awkward expression on his face. The hilt of his sword peeked from over his shoulder, secured by the strap diagonal across his shoulder to waist, unlike what she had seen that first time when he wore it like a typical sword.

Uncertain, Lilly looked up at the woman, who gave a nod, before taking the trench coat from Mychel. She laid it open on the ground and sat on half. With the rest, she covered her legs. It was still warm. She wanted to get this over with and go home, but she felt safer with them than alone outside in the old part of the city and whatever dangers lurked in the night.

"Like this?"

"Yes."

Shira gave Mychel an accusatory look and stepped aside to take her place in the outer circle once more.

"Um..." Lilly looked from one to the other, wishing Shira would stay with her instead of Mychel, who slid closer.

"Close your eyes," he said, "and drop your hands into your lap, and concentrate on breathing deep and long. Let your mind drift. When you're at peace, the part of the luriel inside you will come into your awareness. It won't take long and you'll find a door opening to another world, the Shadow Realm. When that happens, you'll be ready for Enlightenment."

"Enlightenment?"

"Letting the luriel part of your soul touch the other side freely."

"What if it stays?"

"It won't," the woman said. "You are anchored here until your power becomes too great for the body to contain."

"How long does that take?"

"Many years," Mychel said. "Unfortunately, we have so little time to prepare you. You will want to practice meditating often. The more you touch the luriel part of yourself, the more your soul will merge with it and the stronger you'll be. You'll control the powers of the luriel, because you will be on your way to becoming luriel. Then the daemons will be no threat."

"And a daemon is what you attacked in the alley? Not me?" Seeing the sword hilt over his shoulder brought back her distrust of him being so close.

He turned his head to peer at the hilt. "Correct. You might have felt the dark void of its presence."

She remembered that darkness that made her hesitate to leave work. "But a sword?"

"An extension of my arm and my power. An ancient weapon but effective, and allowed by special license. I can teach you how to use it too."

"Maybe." She still wasn't sure she wanted to believe any of this. "Tell me more about this war and why the luriel want us."

"I won't go into too much tonight. Luriel can appear to people in this realm, but they only touch it with their conscious. Very rarely do they cross, because it weakens them, like it does daemons."

"How's it they can cross back...here, I mean?"

"Everything is made of energy. That's how you'll know a daemon in disguise. When he uses his power, it touches negative energy. You'll feel it as an inexplicable fear or hatred. Luriel feed off positive energy..."

"From positive emotions?"

He smiled. "You learn quickly. Yes. Remember that. Your positive energy will neutralize a daemon's powers."

It sounded easy enough, if any of this was real. "Then I just have to be happy all the time."

"I wish it was that easy, but no."

No? She should have known it would be harder. Ugh. All of this was too much. Her drunken brain refused to assimilate anything more. She wanted to go home.

"Daemon's seek negative emotions and feed off the negative energy within the individual. The second one has taken several victims."

"How do you know?" She shuddered from the images that came to mind with his descriptions.

"It feels like a void of anger, fear, hatred, lust, greed, and everything selfish among the flow of the world's energy, like a hole in a picture canvas. This one has fed twice."

"Fed?"

"Fed. Recharged. They absorb all the energy, building their power. They don't eat like we do. Like the luriel in our realm, they are beings of another substance but need energy in this realm to maintain their power."

"Wonderful." The sarcasm dripped from her voice. So, daemons could recharge their power to kill her, body and soul, and she had to learn to neutralize that power before they got to her.

Her head spun with details. She wished she had gone home with Darrac instead of trusting Mychel, who had tricked her. This was too much.

"I just want to go home and sleep on this." For once, she couldn't wait to get back to work and forget vacation.

"And let the daemon take you?" Shira said in a stern voice.

When she put it like that... Lilly swallowed her objections.

"Meditate and practice touching that energy in yourself. Let it flow freely, Lilly."

"Easier said than done," she mumbled.

"I'll take you home after this first lesson. With us all focusing, we can help you touch the Shadow Realm for the first time."

"Then you'll leave me alone?"

He paused and in a low voice said, "I won't let the daemons kill you."

"How do you even know I'm one of these..."

"Celemae?" A wry smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

"We were all unbelievers at one time," Shira said from the edge of the circle. "You will see for yourself."

Lilly looked around at the faces of the circle—men and women of all ages and races. Most of them sat with their legs crossed and arms relaxed and eyes closed. Several watched her or glanced about at the others.

"No more questions," Mychel said. "All the answers will come when you touch the Shadow Realm. Close your eyes and free your mind."

Lilly watched him, not sure she wanted to close her eyes with him so close with his sword.

"Trust me."

"Like when you brought me here instead of my apartment?"

"I brought you here to save you. The daemons come after us too, but we know how to defend ourselves. That's why they prefer fledglings. They would seek you before you have any chance to fight them."

What if she really was celemae?

Impossible. She didn't believe in such things.

But the pictures inside the temple haunted her. She felt a familiarity among them.

_Stop it!_ This was all a lie, a twisted mess of the drinks she'd had at the club. She had given up time with Darrac.

But she'd given him her comm unit code, or she thought she had. A lot of it came back as a blur of music and dancing. Her ears still rang thinking about it.

Mychel was different. There was something about him that cracked her doubts. She felt at home near him, especially among all of them. She felt like she belonged to something greater.

In a life of mediocrity, that held a special allure.

A sigh drained her objections and sank her shoulders. "All right. Let's get this done." The sooner she did this meditation thing, the sooner she could go home and stop the world spinning around her.

"Clear your mind, Lilly." Mychel's voice broke through the memories of Darrac's hands holding her next to him. It shattered the pleasure with the stark reality of the unforgiving floor beneath her and the chill of the warehouse air in dreary contrast to the warmth of his body.

"I don't want to clear my mind. I want to go home. I want to go back to what I had." She wanted Rian.

Her eyes blurred with tears. Everything crashed around her. What was she doing in that part of town? What would they do to her?

"Mychel," a soft voice said.

"I know...Lilly. I'm sorry. You need to do this. It's for your protection. At least try. Once you touch the Shadow Realm and feel the luriel's power inside you, you'll understand."

"I don't want to understand." She sniffed and wiped her eyes. _Idiot,_ the inner voice admonished. She was drunk, and it only emphasized the loneliness inside her. Drinking hadn't done a damn thing to make her feel better. If anything, she felt worse, like a-bus-had-dropped-on-her worse and she was going to regret it come morning, if she saw morning.

At the warmth of a hand on hers, she lifted her eyes to a pleading look on Mychel's face. As if a candle had been lit but flickered far away, she felt a glimmer of something within her. "Please," he said. "If you at least try..."

"You'll take me home?"

He nodded and sat back. "Yes."

She huffed away her indignation and tried to sit relaxed like the others. "Fine. But I'm not staying long."

"All right."

At least he didn't argue.

Amid the spinning sensation that crept up when she closed her eyes, she pushed aside thoughts of Rian and Darrac. "My mind is clear. Now what?"

"Look inward. Within you is a light. That's the only way to describe it. Look to the light and let it fill you," he said. "Look for the luriel. It is a part of you."

A light within her...

A light.

She scoured the emptiness and the ghosts of the past that floated up to haunt her. No light shone for her, only the grief of being torn from the love she had known. She pushed aside the beautiful memories that stabbed in their taunting.

Moon bases. Rotations. Orbits. Satellite Scans...

Thoughts of the sterile monotony of her job cleaned away the emotions, but it gave her no more insight into any light within her. Rather, it jumbled and tangled into a blur and faded away.

"We must find it." A being with silvery white hair and the fairest features she had ever seen glowed from an inner light. He or she frowned at another seated in the circle about the meeting floor. "It is the only way to defeat the darkness. That's all I know." Based on the depth of the voice, it was a man.

"It is not here." The woman who spoke wasn't like the others. She seemed ordinary and oddly familiar.

"How can it not be in all of Fal Oroneth?"

"Because it is beyond, in the Gray Realm."

Several men and women looked to one another, the inner glow faltering.

"How can you be certain?" A man with a thin line of gold above his brow looked across at the second speaker.

"Chancellor Rouan," the woman said in a firm tone, "we have scanned this realm and it is nowhere to be found. But a bridge to the Gray Realm has affected our instruments."

"Precisely. The energy of the Gray Realm has always been different."

"No, Chancellor. This is the dispersed energy."

"How do we collect it and fix this?" another asked. The white-haired individuals had a peaceful aura about them.

Others muttered similar questions and a lively discussion ensued.

"We cannot stay long in the Gray Realm like this, without our other halves, certainly not long enough to reclaim what is ours," the chancellor said.

Several mutters of agreement followed.

"There may be a way," the woman said. "But it will be risky."

# Chapter 10

**T** he thump broke Mychel from his connection, setting fighting instincts on alert for an attack. His eyes snapped open, hand going to the hilt over his shoulder.

It stopped when he took in the circle around him and the collapsed figure on the ground.

She'd passed out.

There went his earliest chance to teach her to protect herself.

Mychel crawled to her and nudged her shoulder. "Lilly."

Nothing.

He tried again, but she remained unresponsive.

The soft scrape of movement came from behind, followed by the crunch of steps, which stopped next to him.

"Let her rest," Shira said quietly. "You know as well as I how this can shatter a person's world."

He did indeed. This wasn't his first time introducing a fledgling to their destiny. Breaking up relationships, turning beliefs upside down, and fighting off daemons had become a way of life for him. He'd almost forgotten his past, before his own Awakening. Serving the Pallora Fen had given him a purpose over a meaningless corporate life, but seeing the fledgling celemae struggle to accept their new lives and the sacrifices it entailed was harder than his own transition. Forsaking earthly bonds was the hardest part of the process.

The scuff of movement came from around him with the rising of the others.

"Mychel." The gentle voice from above accompanied a touch on his shoulder.

She tilted her head towards the others. After a glance to be sure Lilly was all right, he stood and followed Shira while the others drifted from their gathering place.

In a place aside from the others and Lilly, she said, "I know you're upset about losing Arin. It wasn't your fault. Not everyone wants to accept this fate. His parents made his choice and the daemons found him."

She had to bring up his failure to protect his last charge. Although he appreciated her attempt to justify the loss, it was still his fault for not being there.

"I won't leave her."

"I'm not asking you to. Just don't push. You pushed Arin. He was very young and not ready."

"That's what the daemons want!" Shira knew better. Why was she even bringing this up? "We can't lose any more."

Lilly wouldn't be taken.

Shira's grasp pulled his attention back to her and the harsh gaze that pinned him. "You won't...if you back off. From my understanding, you scared the woman. It's amazing she followed you here."

"I killed the first daemon sent for her. It was waiting and nearly had her."

"Fine. Great. You want a medal?"

She knew better than to patronize him.

"I'm only saying that she needs to take this in on her own terms. Listen. Mychel...You were there at the right time. That's great. Trust your instincts," Shira said in a gentler tone. "Take her home. When she's sober, try again. She at least seems willing."

He sighed and turned to the young woman. "You're right."

"Protect her, Mychel. She's still vulnerable." Shira looked from Lilly to him with a hint of worry creasing her brows before she strode away.

Lilly pushed herself from the ground and groaned. Seeing her sway on hands and knees, Mychel rushed to her. "Easy."

Lilly's face paled in the dim light from the lantern nearby. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Of course—"

She vomited, barely missing his coat still wrapped around her legs. The puddle reeked and splattered over her hands. Trembling arms threatened to give out and send her diving into the smelly mess.

Mychel caught her from falling. "Easy, Lilly. Let's get you home."

She looked up at him with a frown. "Do I know you?"

The stench of her breath made him cringe away. "I think the drinks finally hit, a little too hard." With all his strength, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to her feet, grabbing the coat in its slide from her lap and saving it from a dunk in the vomit puddle. At least she didn't seem to remember that she was afraid of him.

He threw the coat over his shoulder while shifting her weight.

"Yeah..." She looked down and wobbled. "Whoa."

When she again heaved chunks of food and drinks, Mychel held her from falling and directed her away.

Afterwards, she wiped her arm across her mouth and looked up at him while swaying. "I wanna go home."

"Right. Let's go." With him keeping her balanced next to him, she managed to put one foot in front of the other in a slow meander around the old machines and stacks of shipping containers.

"What is 'is place?" She lifted her head and looked around dazedly.

Mychel adjusted his hold and she groaned and laid her head on his shoulder. "Nothing to worry about," he said while tapping on his comm unit for a cab.

He supported her to the door and into the street, where a cab was just landing. After maneuvering her inside, he entered on the opposite side and she laid her head on his thigh.

"Where to?" the driver's voice asked from behind the clear security screen at the front.

He gave the driver the address and sat back while the cab rose into the air.

"Why are you helping me?" Her voice was hoarse and weak from his lap.

In sympathy and reassurance, he squeezed her arm briefly. "Because you need a friend." He wanted to be that friend and hoped she could forget the man at the club.

Lilly said nothing more but let out a heavy sigh and relaxed. Mychel slipped his coat over her and tried to ignore the faint reek of vomit and the likelihood that he would be cleaning his coat. For a while, she needed it more than he did.

They rode in quiet for some time before the cab landed on her apartment roof. Mychel paid the driver and escorted Lilly to the entrance, where she put her hand to the scanner. At the recognition of her identity, the door slid open.

They rode the elevator to her floor. Still wobbly, she leaned on him through the hall and into her small apartment to her bed.

He lowered her to the comforter, where she laid back, a woman vulnerable in her state of intoxication and lack of training.

"Rest," he said.

She sniffed and wrinkled her nose, and fumbled to sit up. "I have...to clean myself...Help me...reach the bathroom." She clung to his coat to pull herself up.

He helped her into her bathroom and flicked on the light. She gasped and put a hand up to cover her eyes. Being drunk was never fun and she'd hit it hard.

"Is this your first time?"

Lilly blinked at him, her brow furrowed for only a second before her face scrunched into anguish. He had his answer—this wasn't the real Lilly Lowreth but the result of something deeper.

"You don't know what he did. It hurts..." Tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry." The man at the club hadn't seemed to be doing anything wrong at the time that Mychel interrupted. Someone had hurt her, however. Her remark provoked suspicions that the man at the club hadn't been a boyfriend after all. "I can help you."

"How?" She sniffed and looked up at him with pleading eyes, swaying in her movements.

"I can give you a new purpose."

"New purpose?" She looked around and, before he could answer, she started pulling her dress up to remove it.

"Um..." Mychel looked aside, warmth rising within him.

"Help me..." She wiggled inside the dress to try to pull it over her head but failed. "...Get this off. It stinks...I think I threw up on it."

That she would undress before him and ask for his help stirred up old memories. But she was drunk and probably didn't know what she was doing; she didn't seem to remember anything that night. Someone had to take care of her.

He helped her out of the dress, agreeing that it did stink, and helped her in her satin slip to wash her arms. Once she cleaned up, he held her steady on her feet to return to the bed, where he pulled the covers away for her to lay down and tucked her in afterwards.

"Get some rest, Lilly."

She grabbed his sleeve. "Don't leave. I don't want to be alone."

The pleading in her eyes reached into his heart. It latched on and wouldn't let go. He hadn't wanted to leave. She had made the one request he would gladly fulfill.

"I'll be nearby if anything happens."

She forced a smile. "Where?"

"Close." He pried her fingers from his sleeve and stepped back. "Get some rest. I'll help you with meditating in the morning."

"Okay. But make the room stop spinning."

"Close your eyes."

She did what he suggested. "I feel dizzy."

"Go to sleep." He flicked off the light and stepped back into the short hallway, his eyes on her. While he gazed at the young woman, the light inside him seemed to grow from touching the being inside her. She was celemae and stronger than he had first suspected, but as a human, she was beautiful. She made it very difficult to focus on his task of preparing her for Enlightenment. If they had normal lives, he might give in to the feelings she inspired, but they were destined for something bigger, something he had accepted years ago. If only they hadn't been chosen and he had met her...

Mychel sighed and made his way to the sofa, where he stretched out amid thoughts of that night and the last few nights since he first encountered the young woman in the alley where he attacked the daemon in the shadows behind her.

That's what he should focus on—keeping the daemons away. She would be a big target until Enlightenment. Before she made a full connection to the Shadow Realm, she would be most vulnerable to daemons.

He couldn't lose her like Arin. Mostly, he couldn't lose her.

# Chapter 11

**T** he cursed luriel! He couldn't dare to touch the fledgling among so many observers. They knew exactly what they had done. The slayer had known about him.

Darrac slammed his knuckles into the bricks, sending pain crunching through the human flesh he had chosen in that realm, while the bricks crumbled into the interior in a cloud of dust. He pulled his fist back to see blood pooling along the knuckles in the light of two partial moons, a sign of how well he had camouflaged himself with what he had taken from his prey.

In the deserted part of the city, he glanced about. Acute senses detected no one. The Pallora Fen nearby would take a while to reach him.

Using his power, he healed the wound. Blood disappeared in small puffs of black, which dissipated to reveal whole skin once more.

A dark energy reached out to him. He turned to face it and the roiling black pierced by two red eyes. He should have realized the others would track his presence in the use of his powers. But it was another frael; the lord of Velok wouldn't dare to make an appearance in the Gray Realm and risk his own existence.

"Why have you not returned?" The coarse voice from the cloud growled in a deep bass.

"The Pallora Fen interfered."

Like smoke, the black roiled more actively than it had, a clear sign of agitation. Red eyes narrowed.

"She hasn't been exposed yet. I still have a chance. I will return when the life of this fledgling is mine."

"Do not fail!" The command echoed about him while the black cloud shrank and folded in upon itself to nothing, leaving him alone once more.

Damn them. He might have avoided trouble, but the semi-convergence of the other daemon would definitely have attracted the Fen. That was likely Torek's intention—to undermine his plans.

But he knew the Gray Realm and humans. He wouldn't be discharged so easily. And once he finished this celemae, he would return victorious and prove Torek to be the weak leader he was.

Now, however, he needed a different strategy.

And he needed allies.

He knew where to find them. Not all humans worshipped the luriel.

An inner light approached, bright and powerful to his senses but invisible to human eyes. Celemae.

Daemon slayers.

Footsteps emerged from around the ends of the alley, two and one to block him, too many to take on alone.

"Fools," he growled and called on his power. In a blink, the alley disappeared to be replaced by the dark interior of an old stone building. Being able to see without light, he recognized the pattern of pillars supporting the floor above and the arches to other sections of that low chamber, but it wasn't like the last time he had seen it. From the twisted and bent metal of the rusted iron gate hanging on one hinge, much time had passed.

He bent it aside and stepped out onto a landing strewn with several chunks broken from the stone blocks along the narrow corridor. Metal torch holders stood empty in their spacing along the walls to the stairway.

He would find no prisoners in that decrepit and empty prison, no easy food to replenish him; but neither would the Pallora Fen reach him. He was safe there to rest. The light of the luriel was nowhere near, nor would they detect him.

But there was someone. He felt the allure of greed and selfish interests nearby and the familiar source of vitality to revive him to the strength he needed to absorb the fledgling's life. It called to him like food to a hungry man, beckoning him to a feast no daemon could resist.

He rushed up the stairs to a closed grate and thrust it open on creaking hinges to slam an echoing ring on stone. He didn't need human ears tuning into the acoustics to know he was in a small chamber. He'd been there when it was conquered, had aided the armies of Canmuth in their siege of Keigan Castle to punish the Pallora Fen over two thousand years ago. It had changed hands many times since, but from the tinge of dark energy in the air, its current owners still honored their lord, the daemon—the general of Velok—who had led the Canmuth warriors to victory...Darrac.

He stepped from the lower chamber to a corridor lined by doors of heavy wood and followed it around a corner to a high and wide grand entrance before the chamber, in this case, a ballroom converted to a room of special significance.

He recognized the symbols on the floor, the ancient language he had taught the Velokians in the past. The symbols converted to four dimensions could open the rift to cross the boundaries between realms. In the right arrangements, they held great power, something humans craved but few mastered. Those who did were often killed by those who feared them, or by daemons who felt they amassed too much and posed a threat to them.

A handful of humans in dark robes went about their books and tables of vials beyond the perimeter of the power wheel etched into the floor, until he stepped into their midst.

One of the men looked up with a fierce anger reddening the face beneath the hood. "You can't be here!"

"I can be wherever I desire." Darrac looked about at the others, who paused in their work.

"Who do you think you are to speak to us like this? Did you miss the sign outside? No trespassers allowed. This is private—"

Darrac latched onto the man's throat and lifted him from the ground in a demonstration of his strength. "I am the true master of this castle."

Fingers pried at Darrac's hand in a futile attempt to release his grip. The man's eyes bulged in fear, and he gasped for a breath. The temptation to take his life grew in Darrac, but he could use them and threw the man across the magic wheel. Two others ran to the aid of the man and helped him up while he rubbed his throat and coughed, their questions of concern nauseating.

Darrac huffed in disgust. They had grown soft and weak. These were not the magi he had left.

"Where is the archmage?"

The others looked at one another in question, their faces pale in comparison to the black cowls they wore.

"Is this not the Velokian Sect of Frael Darrac?"

The man he had thrown straightened with an air of austerity, his head nearly bald for being shaved close. "The cults were disbanded long ago, considered threats to the peace of our world, the archmages executed or in hiding with their secrets."

That explained their incompetence.

A wry smile crooked up the man's face, his pig-like eyes reduced by a slight squint. "But some still await the return of their Lords of Velok to vanquish the children of the luriel." He tilted his face to peer at Darrac from another angle. "Where the chasm divides..."

"The shadows will bridge." Darrac eyed the man with new interest in knowing the verbal code of the old order.

"Welcome, Brother," the man said. "I am Mage Drayden. But for a handful of others, we are all that remain of the Velokian Sect of Frael Darrac. We must be cautious to avoid revealing our loyalties."

"Understood."

They all dropped their hoods to reveal a variety of faces among the seven.

"I require your service."

"In what manner can we assist you, Brother?"

"I am not your 'brother'. I am your lord, and you will _serve_ me as I require."

At that, Drayden's face paled and he rubbed his throat. "L—Lord Darrac?" His voice quivered. "Is it true?"

They needed proof, and he would give it to them, if only to recover his strength.

Darrac stepped within the wheel on the floor. The lines glowed with the power linking him to the Shadow Realm and feeding him. It had been so long since he had experienced the direct power of the bridge, which still worked. His full form took shape, rising three times his human height until his horns and wings bumped the ceiling of the room. It had been hundreds of years since he had revealed himself in the gray realm, although he had made occasional journeys for purposes similar to his present visit.

The men fell to their knees. "Lord Darrac. Forgive us. We didn't know."

He flexed his claws and reveled in the full strength returning to him. "You've done well to maintain the bridge." His voice growled from deep within the powerful body of his true form, a form he could not otherwise maintain in that realm. The Pallora Fen would not sense the flow of power through the wards of the castle, unless those protections had been cast off while he was away.

"Th—Thank you, my lord," Drayden stammered.

Darrac lifted his wings to the confines of the chamber, which barely accommodated his size. Five humans prostrated themselves far below at the clawed feet he stood upon.

"You will serve me."

"Yes, my lord," they replied together.

His power replenished, he stepped back from the circle and reclaimed the human form that hid him in that realm. The glow on the floor subsided, leaving him standing before the hooded supplicants.

"Prove yourselves worthy of the frael," he said in his human voice. "Rise."

They followed his command and stood in their places, not daring to take a step closer.

"I require a distraction of the Pallora Fen. Use your resources to locate them and keep them from interfering in my work."

"B—But, my lord..."

"Do not argue!"

"M—M—My lord," another of the men stammered. "Forgive us."

"Forgive?! My magi do not beg forgiveness. They offer themselves as sacrifice."

The men huddled back.

Imbeciles and fools. "You are not worthy!"

"My lord," said a tall, bald man with a brown goatee sprinkled with gray said with more confidence than the others. "We are humbled by your presence. Teach us to be worthy acolytes and we will serve in whatever you command."

"What is your name?"

The man stood tall with pride. "Harrel, my lord."

"Harrel. You have some understanding of what it means to serve Frael Darrac. You will teach the others."

The man's lips twitched into an almost-smile.

"Come now, Harrel. Take your post. Do for me as I ask and you will be rewarded with power beyond your dreams."

At that, the man straightened and nodded. "Yes, my lord. Thank you."

Done with formalities, Darrac returned to his harsher tone. "Make sure the Pallora Fen are occupied for the next few days."

"We obey, Lord Darrac."

Judging by the way the men bowed and repeated Harrel's words, Darrac had their unwavering allegiance. Their competence would be a matter to prove, however.

Satisfied with their loyalty, he strode from the room through the corridors of the castle. Memories of what had played out there over his many visits returned. From the crumbled stones shattered on the smooth polished tiles of the floor, the castle had seen some terrible years since his last visit. His bridge was intact, however, and that's all that mattered. It could yet serve him to bring others forth to fulfill his needs.

Until then, he would trust in his magi. Those who had discovered the past were far less than his first magi, but he could change that. For too long, he had disregarded the sect he had founded, thinking them long gone. They would be useful, as they always had been. He should guide them, but he didn't have time. The Pallora Fen sought to make the fledgling one of their own. That couldn't happen.

A flickering light grew from behind him, along with the tapping of steps.

"My lord?" The voice echoed through the corridor.

He didn't have time for interruptions but turned to see one of the others wielding a glowing ball of energy over his palm to light the corridor in his human need to see. Perhaps they weren't as incompetent as he thought.

The young man was one of the others who hadn't spoken yet. He bowed his head of dark hair and skin. "My lord, I am Mage Saul. I am honored by your presence this night." He bowed again. "It has been one-hundred sixty-eight years since the last of the old sect disappeared and only a dozen since Harrel discovered this castle. All but a few of the ancient texts about the Velokian sects were destroyed in the Reformation. No one could explain the books left, but...I had hoped..." He licked his lips and his eyes shifted.

"That I would teach you." They needed guidance, but he had the matter of Lilly and a lack of time and in that, proving himself as a worthy leader to the other frael, his top priority. That his sect had recovered from near annihilation impressed him. The men were ambitious to defy their human rulers.

"That you would help us understand. Some of the writing...It appears to be by the Pallora Fen who originally inhabited this castle. I thought...perhaps if we understood, we could anticipate their movements. Know your enemy and all..."

Perhaps there was hope for the new sect yet.

Darrac gave a nod. "I haven't the time now, but I will return and reward your diligence, Saul. Since you can use magic, I suggest you take advantage of the bridge." If they could understand how to command its power. That they had not seemed to understand left him with doubts, but perhaps his return would motivate them.

"Yes, my lord." The mage bowed his head and turned back down the dark tunnel through which he had come.

Darrac smiled in satisfaction. Perhaps his visit had not been a waste after all.

Now, it was time to return to see if he could weaken Lilly's defenses.

# Chapter 12

**L** ight spilled across the room and, although it didn't directly shine in her eyes, the brightness sent pain through her head.

Lilly groaned and buried her face under her pillow to block the light and the intruding morning with its hangover. Someone needed to stop the hammering in her skull and turn off the sun.

Last night was a blur of music and dancing and her friends and then...She remembered a taxi and some strange people and a man.

Oh, no.

She reached back along her bed, afraid of what she might find and regret from the night before, but her hand encountered only empty sheets. She let out a breath of relief, until the hammer pounded more fiercely from the movement.

At least she hadn't done anything as outrageously stupid as bringing a man home.

So, how had she managed to get home while drunk off her butt? Someone had helped her, someone she felt she should know, maybe one of her friends.

Lilly eased the pillow from her face and grimaced in the light that shone straight to the hangover pounding in her head. She looked down at herself to see the slip she had worn under her dress. At least she wasn't naked with someone in bed next to her. No man would have left her dressed.

She breathed easier, until the sound of movement in her kitchen froze her breath in her chest while she listened. Cupboard doors thumped and flatware clanged. Someone was in her apartment. It had better be one of her friends.

Slowly, she pulled the covers off, the chill of the morning hitting her bare legs. What did she do last night to bring someone to her lonely apartment? In her desperation since the breakup with Rian, she could have done anything, especially when she was drunk.

Flashes of memories came back that didn't make sense. She remembered a fair-skinned man with sandy-blonde hair and wearing a trench coat.

A sword glinted in her mind.

She frowned and pushed herself to sit up slowly to minimize the throbs of pain. She was never touching alcohol again. Hangovers and morning surprises were not her style.

But she had to know who was there and find out what they knew of last night. Strange faces floated before her, serene and patient. Where had she seen them? Who were they?

She shook her head to loosen the memories and immediately regretted it. The problem was that she'd been too drunk to make sense of anything. Only once before in her life had she been that drunk. Now that she had her senses back, she would have to piece things together.

The thud of her refrigerator snapped her attention back to the present. She rose from the bed, wincing at each throb in her head, and steadily made her way to the bedroom door. There, she paused to settle her stomach at the short hall.

Quietly, she put one foot before the other and reached the corner of the hall with the kitchen and sitting room. She saw nothing unusual, except for one detail. The sofa was empty but for a belt strapped to a long, decorative shank of red leather parsed with bands of silver with brass overlaid decorations. A plain, woven leather hilt stuck from one end with a crossbar of what she recognized from museum pieces as a sword.

Memories flashed back from several days ago and the man with the sword.

Her heart nearly stopped at the clatter of a plate behind her in the kitchen. She turned to check that he hadn't appeared from around the dividing wall, conquering the pain in her head with the instinct to defend herself.

How had he entered her apartment?

It didn't matter. He was there but shouldn't be. The real question was what did he want with her?

Without thinking more than that she would make him answer her questions, she pulled the sword from the scabbard with a soft scrape of metal and lifted the gleaming, polished blade before her with both hands on the hilt. Its weight was greater than she had expected. How anyone could wield such a weapon with any amount of ease was remarkable.

"Careful with that."

She whirled, clanging the blade against the wall to take a chip out but coming to stop with the point at the throat of the man from the alley. The man with sandy-blonde hair a bit tousled was shorter than she thought, average in height and build, and less threatening than she recalled. He leaned back and didn't act scared for someone who should expect to be skewered. Rather, his face revealed something knowing and patient, a depth of wisdom lingering in his blue eyes.

Uncertainty crept into her conviction to carry out her threat. The pounding in her head didn't help. "Why are you here?"

"I brought you home when you passed out?" He asked like she should remember.

"I passed out?" A second after asking, she realized he'd likely been right based on her lack of memories.

She shook off the thought and reaffirmed her two-handed hold on the sword. "What did you do to me? Where are my clothes?"

His blue eyes lifted from the sword to her with mild amusement. "You drank too much, threw up, and took your dress off. I tucked you into your bed and then crashed on your sofa." He leaned around the wall into the kitchen. "Breakfast is almost ready."

Unsteadiness from the aching in her arms grew from the weight of the sword. Confused and a little embarrassed by his answer, she let the blade drop. "What happened last night?"

At her side before she realized he had crept close, he took the sword from her hands. "That will take a while." After sliding the blade back into the scabbard and setting it on the sofa, he ushered her to the table and pressed her down into a chair.

At the feel of the cold wooden seat beneath her, Lilly blinked from her stupor and looked up. He flashed a quick smile and headed to the stove, where something sizzled in a pan, alerting her to the smell that wafted from the kitchen.

"Tell me," she said.

"Last night, you were out with friends at the Caper." He grabbed plates off the counter and brought them to the table, where he set one before her with a soft clatter and the second around the arc of the table before a different chair. "I...interrupted you on the dance floor because I felt a daemon present."

"A daemon? They're not real. They're...myths." Like the images in the temple.

He straightened slowly, his expression growing serious. "The one I killed in the alley before it could reach you was plenty real."

The alley. The incident a few days ago returned with the attack. This man...No, his attention had been on something behind her. He hadn't attacked her. "What do you want?"

"To protect you." He retreated to the kitchen and returned with cups and flatware to the table. "As I told you last night—" When he set the cup before her, his gaze captured her in the intensity. "—The daemons can feel your presence, like we can feel theirs. A fledgling celemae is more vulnerable and easier to destroy than one who has experienced Enlightenment. Right now, you are quite vulnerable."

She swallowed and watched him return to the kitchen for the pan on the stovetop. She was too intrigued by his explanation and the fact that he hadn't hurt her to run.

"I'm not celemae." She couldn't be. The woman, Jaz, had said the celemae had pieces of luriel in them and that...She was celemae.

Memories of yesterday's events crashed through her mind, including the puzzling disappearance of the woman before her eyes.

"You are. Like me. Like the others."

"Others?" She had a vague sense of a circle of people around her.

He stood over her with the pan and tipped it to expose a blend of ingredients, which he scraped onto her plate in part before doing the same over the second plate near the other chair, where he sat down. "The Pallora Fen. You met some of them last night."

"I did?"

"But you were drunk."

The hangover told her that much.

She dropped her head in her hands and looked down at the slip. Heat rose to her face. Oh, no. She had forgotten not being dressed. Other fears quickened her heart. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to see him scoop a spoonful of food into his mouth, afraid to ask but needing to know: "I didn't— I mean we—"

He shook his head and swallowed. "No. Like I said before, you vomited several times and insisted on removing your dress before I tucked you into your bed."

Thank goodness...unless he was lying.

But something about him put her at ease, clearing away any fear or doubt in him. She wanted to trust him.

Lilly dropped her head into her hand with a sigh and winced at the throbbing. The smell of the cooking broke through the fog of confusion and pain and did more to twist her stomach than to tempt it. She pushed the plate away.

"At least drink. You'll feel better rehydrated."

She peered up over the top of her eyes at him enjoying his meal too much. It made her nauseous and she reviled him for seeming so well while she suffered.

Without asking, he took her cup to the sink, filled it, and set it before her. "Drink. Rehydrate. Your head will clear and your stomach will settle."

She glared at him continuing his meal without problems—her food. Unable to stand watching him eat so nonchalantly, she glared instead at the cup and the shimmer of water inside. After some time, thirst moved her to pick it up and sip the cold water. It trickled down her throat but hit her stomach like a lead hammer. She winced and set the cup down.

"You'll need a lot more if you want to feel better sooner."

"Leave me alone," she muttered and took the cup into the sitting room. There, she picked up the remote to switch on the viewer—nearly invisible in its off state—to some program to distract her. Nearly sitting on the sword on the sofa sparked a defiant streak that ended with her shoving it to the floor, where it clanged in its scabbard on the carpet.

She would drink water or juice as much or as little as she wanted, but she was inclined to agree with him or at least hoped he was right. She'd do anything to get past the worst of the hangover.

If only she could remember what had happened last night. Was he even telling the truth?

She stared at the people talking in the scene on the large viewer glass and through them at what she could pull from her memories of the club and her friends and this man in her apartment. It took her to another man with coal-black hair and a muscular body beneath a tight shirt. She remembered a roguish smile that had ignited something inside her.

"Darrac," she muttered.

"What?"

Lilly frowned. "Not you." She put the cup to her lips and gulped the water down in annoyance. Mychel had taken her from Darrac and the potential connection they could have made. And she needed that to heal her heart.

She set the empty cup aside, the emptiness of longing in her heart rivaling the cup. He'd made her feel attractive for the first time in a long time.

But he'd been too good to be boyfriend material.

She could refill the cup, but her heart would take more.

"I'm sorry about last night. For what it's worth, I know what it's like."

"Like hell you do. You have no idea what I've been through."

"No, I don't."

The way he said that made her feel bad for snapping at him.

"You lost someone you cared about," he continued, "someone you loved very deeply. A break up or death, I'd guess."

Lilly shifted her gaze to him where he now stood at the end of the wall blocking off a portion of the kitchen. "Lucky guess."

"You made that clear last night," he said. "In case you don't remember, my name is—"

"Mychel." Yes, she remembered that detail.

He smiled.

"Your friend Jaz told me. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together."

At mention of the woman's name, his smile dropped with his eyes and he picked at one of his fingernails. She had a vague recollection of him reacting with the same melancholy in a previous mention of the woman and was sorry.

"She...was more than a friend," Lilly said.

A brief smile flickered and disappeared. "She was my mentor, the one who brought me into the Pallora Fen and showed me true Enlightenment..." His voice quieted in finishing, "And taught me the sacrifices we must make. She was far stronger than I'll ever be."

"Yeah." Lilly dropped her gaze in awkward shame. "I'm, um...I'm sorry I misjudged you. It's just been...difficult—weird—lately."

"It will get far weirder."

Lilly's stomach clenched, making her grimace. "How...much...weirder?" She was almost afraid to ask.

His eyebrows lifted with a look that said she hadn't seen the worst yet.

"When you're ready, we have a lot of work to do."

# Chapter 13

**T** he rooftop seemed as good a place as any. People could see them from the sky, certainly, but she had cleaned up and dressed after her stomach settled enough to keep something down.

"The light you see is like the light within." Mychel stood at the raised ledge and gazed out over the city sprawl opposite the tall peaks of central Porton on the horizon. In the opposite direction where the sun rose, civilization faded into green hills gently rolling into the blue sky.

Lilly closed her eyes and welcomed the reviving warmth of the sun.

"Feel it. Imagine a light within you," Mychel's soft voice said. "That is the luriel that can survive in the Gray Realm."

She did what he suggested, the sun bright beyond her closed eyes but no glimmer of a similar light within.

"The celemae are trapped here, in what those of the Shadow Realm call the Gray Realm," he said.

"Why?"

"Why are they trapped?"

"No. I get that from what Jaz told me. Why are they called the Shadow Realm and Gray Realm?"

Mychel turned from the horizon, a smile on his face that made her wary. "So, you're opening up to the possibility."

"Don't put words in my mouth. I'm just curious." She wished he wouldn't look at her like he'd just won a jackpot.

"The Shadow Realm, as I understand—one must ascend and then they can never simply return to this realm, so I can't say from experience—is a place that shadows ours. We can't see it, but it's there, overlapping. In the language of the luriel and daemons, it's called Fal Oroneth. When we connect, it seems like a shadow to our physical selves, which is why the first celemae named it the Shadow Realm. They wouldn't have known the true name until it was revealed, so the name stuck." He squatted down to pat the concrete landing pad of the roof.

Curious to hear more, Lilly followed his example and sat before him while he adjusted his sword to be out of his way behind him.

"The Gray Realm, our realm, is a translation of their language, because we still wield both light and dark within each of us. The luriel are light."

"And this is what is inside me...us?" Lilly motioned from herself to him with a vague sensation of familiarity from his words, like she'd heard this before.

"Yes. A part of a luriel lies within us. Yours has only recently become aware in a process we call Awakening. This fledgling will grow in power and eventually return to the Shadow Realm to fight the daemons that seek to destroy it."

"And I'll disappear like Jaz?" Lilly watched him closely in the hopes that she would be wrong.

His eyes softened and saddened and he let out a deep sigh. "It is our destiny to return to the Shadow Realm which gave us this power, this light, an honor that not all humans will know."

"Some honor," she muttered. Disappearing from this realm to fight in another against monsters was more like slave labor.

"You will understand once you reach Enlightenment."

"What is that?"

Something—maybe the sun—sparkled in his eyes. She shook off the idea that he was enjoying this, her wanting answers before she went any further in this process that could apparently end her life on that world sooner than she expected. She wasn't ready to "die" in any form.

"Have you done this 'Enlightenment' thing?" she asked before he could answer her first question.

"Oh, yes. And it's the most profound experience you've yet to have. When you connect to the power of the Shadow Realm and to the others, your worldly concerns in this realm will seem minuscule. You'll feel like you are everywhere and more aware of what you can fully be for just an instant that you cannot reclaim, until you ascend."

The glow on his face when he spoke of it intrigued her, calling her to want to know what it was he had felt.

"It's magnificent." He stared past her, his eyes glazing with moisture. Something about the experience had moved him to tears simply in remembering.

He blinked away whatever had taken him and refocused. "The whole universe will open for an instant that will change you, and then you will see the frailty of this existence."

"It sounds incredible," she said dryly.

"You'll understand in time. For now, we must prepare you. We tried last night, but you weren't ready."

"You did?" His words caught up and she frowned. "Who's 'we'?"

"The Pallora Fen."

"Oh. You mentioned them. Others like you?"

"Celemae, yes. Not all endure the rigorous slayer training, however."

"Slayer training?" Was there a book she could read to catch up?

"Daemon slaying."

"Daemon slaying with a sword isn't required? You just like walking around with a long pointy object to show off?"

His earlier interest melted with a heavy sigh that she interpreted as a not-this-again moment. "I'll explain another time. Right now, I need you to walk through the meditation with me. Focus on what's inside you, the light of the luriel bound to your soul. Once you learn it, you will have a weapon against the daemons. Your light can dispel their darkness."

"Then they can't hurt me and I can get on with my life?" Like she had been trying to do last night.

"Not necessarily."

Lilly caught her breath on a quip she had prepared in expectance of him answering differently. He was making this worse than it had to be. "How's that?"

"Daemons still come after us, especially when we're alone. It never stops."

Damn him and his daemons and celemae. She'd been entertaining him with the expectation that he'd leave her alone afterwards and she could live her life in peace from monsters like the one that had appeared over her bed.

"Focus, please. You need to learn this."

Lilly met his determined stare with her own.

"I'm doing this to protect you and to show you what you really are."

Lonely, she wanted to say, but bit her tongue. Something in the way he looked at her, even in his presence, seemed to erase the stain left by Rian's rejection and her desire to argue.

She exhaled further objections and waited, soaking up the warmth of the sun.

"Good. Relax. Take deep, slow breaths. Block out the world and focus on you."

"What if I don't want to?" She'd rather focus on the world, on anything around her to keep her mind off the turmoil inside.

"Then I can't do anything for you. You have to do this yourself." He shook his head and gazed past her for some time, then reached over his shoulder and withdrew the sword.

He held it up between them and said, "Focus on the blade, on its shine, the micro-scratches from the whetstone, the flaws, the reflection of light."

She had been interested in the sword, studying it briefly that morning but not really examining it.

"Give it your whole attention," he said.

Curious about what was suddenly so special with the weapon, she did. The sun glinted from the blade, tip to base. The sharpness ended a couple inches from the base at the crossbar, where the metal was etched deeply with a pattern that twisted around. The crossbar hooked around towards the blade to meet on either side in a scallop at the midline of the blade that pointed back at his hand on the hilt. She estimated the blade length at greater than the length of her arm but much finer.

In studying it more closely, she noted the finer details of the scratches and, even harder to see in the glare but clearer at the right angle, the swirls of marks so delicate that they were barely there. He moved the blade, blinding her with the reflection of light.

Lilly blinked and squinted.

"Look closely," he said in a low voice.

There must have been something on it, something hidden. She would find it. Every nuance of the metal fell under her dedicated scrutiny while he sat still, holding it and occasionally turning it slightly, enough to catch the sun, just when she thought she saw something new. She was accustomed to examining details. This would be no different.

She took in the glare of the metal along the blade for what seemed the millionth time when something struck her in what she could only describe as a lightning bolt. She sat up sharply and blinked.

The blade lowered before her. "You felt it."

"What was that? What did you do to me?"

"Nothing." The hint of smugness accompanied a satisfied glint in his eyes. "What did you feel?"

What _had_ she felt? That was a good question. The moment had passed so quickly and unexpectedly that she hardly had a chance to recognize it.

He seemed to know something, however. She focused on him, expecting an answer. "You tell me."

Mychel set the sword across his lap. "You cleared all matters but the sword from your mind. In a moment of clarity, the luriel shone through."

"That was it?" That couldn't be all of it. From what he'd described, she had expected something more magnificent.

"A start. A glimpse. Once you learn to clear your mind and make a conscious contact, you'll feel it fully, and then you'll be ready for Enlightenment."

"Teach me more."

His smile stretched tight across his face.

"I'm curious. It doesn't mean anything." He didn't have to look like the cat that swallowed the canary.

Mychel gave a small nod, his lips tight in a struggle not to smile. "Of course."

* * *

That flicker. Darrac recognized it. Stronger than a fledgling awakening but not the full brilliance of Enlightenment.

He turned about on the plains. Like a light in the dark, the flare of a celemae shone, drawing him in the direction. The castle could no longer be seen, disguised by magic to appear to be a hill. The flare had come from the direction of Noren City.

Lilly. Not yet.

The thought to teleport himself into the city halted upon the flicker of another light, much weaker. One he could snuff out.

Another had awakened. This was becoming less frequent than he remembered from long ago. The luriel were weakening. Soon, they would fall.

He could take care of this one and return before the Pallora Fen sent their slayers, and before Torek sent another daemon to question his competency. A quick feeding and he'd be ready to take on Lilly again, although her new escort could present a problem.

If the magi knew more than they had let on, he might have a means to counter the celemae.

First, the new fledgling.

In a thought, he transported to the dark side of the world, becoming a shadow in the corner of a sleeping room. Celemae could awaken in any location in people of any status, but they were usually young adults, never older and rarely in children.

This was no different. The young man rolled onto his back, the whites of his eyes wide in the little bit of light from a street lamp outside the window. He seemed to stare right into Darrac.

An instant later and a cut-off scream, the man was no more. The power of the fledgling luriel spirit satisfied him more fully than anything in that realm but for the bridge.

Now, he had the power to challenge a realized celemae like one of the Pallora Fen. The sooner he finished Lilly, the sooner he would return victorious to Velok and continue his quest to usurp Torek as its master.

# Chapter 14

**T** he fear and malignancy pierced her like the sword now sheathed. Doubts and sorrows burst through the stabbing pain. It hit like a blast of cold air, yet the sun still shone warm on her. Lilly put a hand to her chest. If only she could remove her heart not to feel.

Mychel's expression turned grim, hardening into something that made her wary. "We lost another. Peace be on their soul."

"Was that—" She couldn't say it. The awful darkness and red eyes over her bed flashed before her and turned her insides to ice. Every fiber of her being screamed daemon.

"A daemon feeding, yes. The light before that was the Awakening. They move quickly. Those of us who make it this far are lucky."

She swallowed the lump of fear in her throat, staring at him with a new appreciation growing inside her. "You were there for me."

He gave a small nod. "I had time. Daemons don't like to extinguish celemae with others watching. They prefer remaining a myth to the majority of human society, making us appear to be possessed by madness...as you thought."

She bit her tongue on a denial. Yes, she had thought he was some crazy man, along with Jazmin, until she saw the woman vanish in a flash of light, leaving only her clothes as proof that she had been present.

"It waited near you and would have followed you until you were alone."

"It almost had me in the alley?"

"Yes."

Lilly pressed her lips together and, unable to look him in the eye, she stared at the metal glaring with reflected sunlight. She didn't want to see any condemnation on his face for her previous actions against him.

"Uh...Thanks."

"You're welcome." The gentle quality of his voice encouraged her to look up. "I won't let them get you."

She didn't know what to say. All this gnawed at her insides with a discomfort that made it difficult to face him. She had been right to follow the intuition that said to trust him. "Teach me more."

His smile beamed in the sun, even outshone it.

She focused more clearly and let him guide her through the meditation to a place in her mind where no shadows existed, where the sun shone from within her. Although difficult to imagine, she noticed a flicker of the awareness that had flared within her in her attention to the sword.

It vanished as quickly as it had come, but she beamed in pride. "I did it. I found it again. It's there, inside me."

His crooked smile bore an I-told-you-so smugness.

In the flicker of a second in which she debated arguing or agreeing, the ring of her comm unit muted the moment with confusion and a spark of hope. _Darrac. Please let it be Darrac._ That would be the only thing that could make her day better.

The origin code wasn't familiar—not one of her friends. Her heart raced with anticipation of the possibility. Had she made a fool of herself? Would he forgive her for leaving with another man? Was it even him?

With Mychel watching her, she failed to grasp the thoughts that had scattered.

She keyed it on. "Hello?"

A pause, then, "Lilly."

The deep tenor of his voice cooled her fears like a soothing salve. "Darrac?"

"You remember me."

"Ah—Of course, I do. You remembered my number." Her heart fluttered from his confirmation. There was one thing she remembered from last night. She looked at Mychel, but he was already rising, the smile gone like it had never existed. He could think all the bad thoughts he wanted, but she had a life to live. Now that she knew it could be short, she didn't want to waste any of it on regrets.

"It was on my mind all night."

She clutched the comm unit in white knuckles and turned her face to the sun, clenching her teeth on a squeal of excitement seeking escape. Nothing could darken her day now. Maybe something could go right in her life and she could actually be happy.

"So...um...Darrac..." She cleared her throat and smoothed back her hair behind her ear, then proceeded to pick at a loose thread in the hem of her shirt, all while fighting through the sudden fuzz in her mind for something to say.

"I'd like to see you again," he said.

"You would?" She tempered the rise in her voice. "I mean...when?"

"Now."

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest.

Mychel stood at the ledge overlooking the street below but turned his head aside, listening with a line of disapproval set in his jaw.

"I'm hungry."

So was she, now that he mentioned it. It had been a long morning, and she hadn't exactly been in the mood for food earlier. Her stomach was more than ready now. "Lunch would be great."

"Then I'll meet you downstairs."

"Downstairs?" He was there, at her apartment? How had he found her?

The smile rang in his voice when he said, "You told me everything last night."

She'd been drunk. What else had she said? Obviously, whatever she had done or said hadn't turned him off from following up with her. But she dreaded what she might have done to embarrass herself.

"Everything?"

His chuckle rang with reassurance. "Not everything everything, but enough to find you again."

"And you did."

"Yes, I did. Will you be down soon?"

"Yes! Yes, of course. Give me a few minutes to freshen up. I...was...just—" She watched Mychel, but he kept his back to her. "—Recovering from last night."

"I understand. I'll wait."

He'd wait! By Isa, he was too good to be real.

But it was real. Darrac wanted to see her again.

"I'll be down quickly." She cut off the call.

"This won't end well."

At the sullen voice, she looked up from the device, which was her connection to the companionship she had sought, a hope for a new beginning.

Mychel turned to face her. "You can't form earthly attachments. You'll only hurt him and delay your own Ascension."

"So what? If I have a set number of days to live, I'm going to live them to the fullest." Mychel could think all he wanted; she was going. "It's better than being lonely."

His cheeks bulged from the clamping of his jaw.

Feeling more than a little satisfied that she had hit a nerve, she huffed and turned to the door of the stairs into the apartment building.

"For you or for him?"

Her hand open to clasp the lever, she paused before grabbing it.

No. Mychel wasn't going to stop her. She deserved this. After all she had suffered, knowing Darrac was interested in more than a single dance swept aside some of the pain induced by Rian.

Lilly pressed down hard on the door handle lever and pushed it open to the stairwell. Lights always on illuminated her way down to the top floor of the building, and the door slammed shut behind her.

Not wanting to tramp down the twelve floors to her mid-level apartment, she exited the stairs and took the elevator the rest of the way.

Inside her apartment, she hastened to change into something more appealing than the frumpy pants and tee she had worn to be comfortable that morning; she hadn't been trying to impress Mychel. A little more attention went into her hair and face. The shower that morning had washed all the vomit smell away, along with the smudged make-up.

After a quick ten-minute tune-up, she smiled at the brighter face in the mirror and rushed out the door to the elevator. Only a couple stops on lower floors interrupted the ride to the small main level lobby and the management office.

Beyond the glass doors stood the building security officer and Darrac. Excitement zinged through her, sending her heart fluttering.

_Deep breath._ She focused on the meditative techniques that Mychel had been teaching her and regained some control of the buzzing in her head. This wasn't a dream; Darrac had actually come to see her. However, she couldn't let him see her anticipation. _Calm. Collected._ Make him work for her attention.

After a quick flattening brush of her hand over her shirt, she marched to the door.

His smile hit her like a sunbeam, sending a wave of warmth through her body that left her flustered.

"You put the sun to shame."

Uncertain how to take such a compliment, she could only smile in the wake of the lightening of her heart.

"Truly," he said, his brows pressed into a hint of pleading that made him all the more endearing. "The darkness of the club could hardly do justice, but it couldn't hide such radiance either."

"Then why wait?"

The voice from behind shot like a laser through her heart to shatter the moment into a million shards of nothing. Mychel.

Lilly spun around to see his eyes fixed on Darrac with a hard gaze of suspicion. How dare he interfere with her life more than he had. She had taken his lessons, but he didn't control her.

"Darrac," she said before the tension thickened into a fight. The body beneath the light shirt tightened.

Mychel stood coolly, still wearing the coat in the summer warmth, likely to hide the sword. It had better stay hidden.

"This is Mychel," she said, inching closer to Darrac. They didn't need any fights, but the tension around him was palpable. "He's...my brother."

Mychel's brows twitched momentarily in confusion, then relaxed with a wry smile. "Looking out for my sister." The forced tone of politeness was laced with threat.

"An overprotective brother," Lilly muttered. She was glad to be an only child if this was what it was like to have siblings.

Darrac relaxed and nodded. "I understand. But it's a new day and she is not your property. She's free to do what she pleases."

Thank the Gods, he understood or at least had accepted the awkward lie. Mychel had better not ruin this further.

"Remember that." The challenging tone irked her. "She's special," Mychel added in the same tone.

"Yes, well...It's my life. Remember _that._ " She turned to Darrac. "Let's get going. I'm starving."

"Good idea."

They turned to leave, their backs to Mychel, but she peered over her shoulder to be sure he wasn't following. Relieved that he stayed at the building, she said, "Don't worry about him. He doesn't control me."

"Of course not."

# Chapter 15

**M** ychel watched them leave, the hair at the back of his neck prickling with a sense of foreboding.

Darrac...The name struck a familiar chord. He swore he had heard it before, but it could be his imagination.

The others might know, and he'd like to know how the daemon took out the latest fledgling so quickly after the Awakening.

Lilly had a start in her training at least, and if this Darrac wasn't a daemon, it wasn't worth angering her further to hover. The piece of luriel within her was strong and would fight any daemon attack. She should be all right, if she stayed in public areas, where the daemon wouldn't dare to reveal itself.

He pulled out his comm unit and entered the code for a particular taxi.

A few minutes later, the car landed before him and the door lifted open.

"You called?" a voice said from inside.

Mychel ducked into the back seat. "That was fast."

"I was in the area. Hey! Watch the sword, Mike. I just had the seat covers changed. You owe me." The man in the front seat resembled Lilly in his light brown color. Similar ancestors, but everyone on Ahlias had mixed so thoroughly over the last few centuries that there were no pure races, even he was only white in outward appearance, a rare outcrop.

With extra care, Mychel lifted the tip of the sword aside and settled into the seat.

"Better. Much better." Kade reached forward on his control board, and the door hissed shut. "You know, it cost me a lot of savings to fix the last few times you dove into my cab. I should start charging you extra. You got the credit, all those years in corporate towers..." He huffed and shook his head.

Sitting with his arms crossed, Mychel rolled his eyes. "And all benefited from my pre-Fen life, which I gave up when Jazmin revealed the truth to me. Peace be on her soul."

At that, Kade fell somber. "Yeah. That was her?"

"Protecting my latest charge until I could get there. I need to speak with Shira."

"And where's your charge?" Eyes peered at him in the rear-view mirror with suspicion.

"On a date."

Kade shook his head and made a few adjustments to the heads-up display.

"Old Caddelon, it is." The cab lifted, pressing Mychel against the seat.

"Thanks." Mychel closed his eyes, his thoughts on Lilly and the questions he had for Shira. He didn't want to leave Lilly, but he knew the type—stubborn to the nth degree. Any amount of what she perceived as harassment would only degrade her willingness to accept what she was. Lilly would learn that attachments had to be forsaken in order to ascend. Corporeal desires would only hold her back, a fact he had confronted in himself. What he had achieved with her was tenuous at best and too easily broken at this stage.

Music rose from around him, a dreamlike, ethereal melody. Typical Kade. He meditated to music while driving, letting the autopilot guide the car once he entered the route.

A while later, the car landed amid the familiar ruins of the abandoned city. The sun highlighted the broken windows, chipped stucco, piles of rubble, and heaps of rusting metal that used to be cars from a war before his lifetime. The central government had decided not to renovate the old Caddelon district, which made it perfect for those who wished to avoid them. Peacekeepers mostly left it alone, which had allowed him to invest in the old factory as a safehouse where the Pallora Fen could gather.

They landed a block away, the wind stirring up eddies of dust that whirled and dissipated.

"Want me to wait?"

"Yeah." Mychel didn't plan to be long. Having Kade ready would save him the trouble of calling him back.

Mychel pushed the door up and set his boots onto the stones of the old street. Senses took in the ghosts of another era. Although the area was mostly abandoned, with a job, food, and shelter guaranteed for everyone in the city, some still sought the independence of the ruins.

He stood from the car and looked about. "Stay close."

The door dropped shut and he stepped aside. Repulsor jets stirred up dust under the car and around his feet. He backed away and watched it rise. Kade would find a safe place to wait but not on the ground.

Alert to the wind whispering through the rubble and torn fabrics failing in their duties of covering holes in walls to keep out the breze, he made his way to the old factory. The security system he had installed on the building kept out trouble to give them the safety and privacy they needed for their ceremonies. Although it wasn't a temple, it kept them out of public awareness.

At the door, he entered his code and scanned his hand. The door clicked to unlock and he passed through. Once inside, the lock clicked behind him.

Every sound magnified in the abandoned factory with its echo chamber of a high ceiling. Numerous machines and crates of raw materials still filled the place beneath several decades of dust. Dozens of pairs of shoes had worn a path on the floor, if one could see in the building where light barely filtered from a few sparse windows at the tops of the high walls.

He made his way through the maze to the central area, a clearing that could fit a few hundred easily, or a large circle of dozens like last night.

Now, he found many resting or collaborating on training.

Apart from the others, Shira sat in a meditative pose. He reached her amid a few glances, mostly from recognizable faces, and sat down with her.

Eyes slowly opened with a warm, inviting smile that radiated deep knowledge.

"We have a problem," he said.

"Yes." The smile fell and her eyes searched around him. "Where is your charge?"

He had expected her to ask; he was supposed to stay with Lilly until after Enlightenment. Shira would just have to accept the reality. "On a date...Don't, Shira. Just...don't." The look on her face said enough for him to know what she almost said.

"You know better, Mychel."

He had expected the admonishment. "Perhaps you'd like to explain that to her. She's not ready to accept giving up her life."

Shira's stern face softened. "They never are. It's our job to help them understand. They're children who don't realize the danger until it's too late."

He huffed agreement and amusement. She could have been speaking about him or Lilly or anyone else in the early stages. "She felt it."

Shira waited in expectant silence.

"The feeding."

The woman's eyes slowly lowered, like her expression. "We lost one today."

"How could the daemons arrive so quickly?"

Shira answered his question in the moment it struck him: "They're waiting in this realm. Crossing realms takes far too much time and effort. At least one is here."

"They couldn't get to Lilly before she accessed the luriel within her."

Dark brown eyes opened wider, exposing more of the white. "Then she accepted the training?"

"She had some small success this morning, before she left."

"Then she's not as helpless as I thought. Let's hope it will be enough."

Shira had a way of admonishing him without directly chastising. In some ways, it annoyed him; in others, he appreciated that she didn't present a confrontational face.

"She's not alone. I doubt the daemons would attack in daylight in front of others."

"Perhaps you're right, but it's still a risk. You could have called with this. Remember—"

"I know." He ground the words to cut her off from the disappointment in himself for failing.

"Good."

She said nothing further, but the silence between them grew awkward. Shira repositioned herself.

"His name is Darrac," Mychel said. "I swear I've heard it before, but I don't know where."

She shook her head. "I'm not familiar with the name. Are you worried that he's the daemon?"

"I don't know. I thought you, being close to your luriel, might know more."

"I'm sorry, Mychel. Check with a diviner."

"They only know the ancient myths."

She shrugged. "In myths lie truth disguised."

Riddles. Shira was good for that. His uneasy feeling about Lilly's friend was probably nothing. However, he had the afternoon until she returned to her apartment, if she did. He would feel better knowing the man wasn't one of the known daemons.

Or maybe Mychel didn't like him for other reasons that shouldn't matter.

"You're right," he finally said.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"That's why I come to you." Damn, she was good at seeing through people, or he was just that terrible about lying.

"I've known you too long, Mychel."

"I'm going to miss you when you ascend," he said in a mocking tone.

"You'd better get back to your charge. She should be abandoning the earthly ways, and she will accept it in time. For now, if you don't trust this date she has, check his background. You also could have stayed with her."

"I will, but I wanted to ask you first. And..." He paused, uncertain if he should ask but it was one of the reasons he had come to find her in particular, something he dared not speak of on the comm unit. In a lowered voice, he asked, "Have you spoken to our counterparts in Ronduan?"

"Yes."

"And?"

She shook her head. "No luck."

"They need to keep searching."

"They understand, but magic," she said in an almost inaudible whisper, "and everything suspected of it was destroyed in the Reformation."

With a glance at the others—none seemed to be giving them any attention—he locked his jaw on the arguments burning to spill from his tongue. She understood the stakes; he didn't have to tell her. The other, less knowledgeable celemae might not take well to knowing that their leaders sought a mythical power, even if it might give them a stronger means of fighting the daemons who entered that realm. Rumor and legends had a way of frightening people, which had been at the heart of the Reformation.

"I suggest you return to your charge, before a daemon does."

He tipped his head in obeisance. "You will let me know when you hear from the others?"

"Worry about your charge...I will pass on what we learn."

"Thanks, Shira." He rose from his place.

"Protect her, Mychel," she warned in a stern voice. "She's vulnerable...not only because she's a fledgling."

The sagging of her expression caught him for a moment. Shira had seen what he had seen in Lilly. From what she had revealed last night, he understood. It was the reason he had let her go on this date. She needed to feel that she was worth something. He only hoped he didn't regret leaving her.

He gave a nod that lifted the corners of her mouth and turned.

When he did, the shadow slipped over his heart again. He hoped Lilly was all right.

# Chapter 16

**"T** hank you for dinner." Lilly pushed her hair behind her ear and looked down the street ahead of them.

"You're more than welcome." Darrac scanned their surroundings for an opportunity. People walked in opposing flows of traffic around parked cars in the street and benches closer to the shops, where some chose to sit and read or people-watch. Although not numerous, there were too many around for his liking. He had to make this quick and return to Velok.

But he couldn't force her to anything. Flattery was the way to gain her trust and cooperation.

"I should thank you for rescuing me from Mychel."

Rescuing her?

"He was making me learn some...lesson."

Dread ran its icy fingers up his spine. He caught his fingers curling in tension and released them. In a voice that he tried to keep suspicion out of, he asked, "What kind of lesson?"

"Oh...nothing. Just crazy stuff. I don't want to talk about it."

He did, but he clamped his jaw on the questions. If this Mychel was teaching her already how to connect with her luriel, she might resist his power, ruining plans to annihilate her and return victorious to Velok. It also confirmed his suspicions about the burst he had sensed.

The Pallora Fen were already training Lilly. He had to act fast. He was stronger since consuming the fledgling and his power that morning, but he had to be at his best if he hoped to take out someone with any level of empowering their luriel, and he only had one chance to catch her unprepared.

"Tell me about your brother," he said. "I'm curious about him." And why she had seemed to forget her accusations last night that Mychel had attacked her with a sword, not exactly a sign of sibling love the way he had come to learn about humans.

Her face went white, losing the glow that had accompanied her throughout their dinner. "Oh...ah...He's not important. Just a minor nuisance. I'd rather not talk about him."

"Are you close?"

Her brows pressed down. "No. Why would you— Oh. No. Sorry. Never mind. I...Never mind. My mind was on something else. Can we not talk about him, please?"

"All right." Soon, it wouldn't matter. She would be nothing and he would return to show the other daemons that he was more clever and more suited to lead them against the luriel than Torek, whose leadership had kept them at a stalemate since their rebellion began hundreds of Fal Oroneth years ago. They needed new leadership to win this war.

He had to act to weaken the celemae soon, or his efforts would be for naught.

When she reached up nervously to brush her hair aside, he lifted his hand to take hers.

"Relax, Lilly," he said in a gentle voice.

The moment their hands touched, she stiffened; but she quickly relaxed and curled her fingers around his, letting her arm swing.

"You seem nervous."

"I...have a lot on my mind."

He squeezed his fingers around her hand and felt it—the raw power within her, seductive in its allure and dangerous. The luriel were much like them, their power equal and opposite, drawn upon the Shadow Realm from which it came but in the case of the luriel in the Gray Realm, fed by the human soul.

There might be another way. He'd never tried it before, but if he fed slowly, he might be able to weaken her without her noticing, diminishing the luriel within her to a point when he was strong enough to destroy it entirely. He'd never fed slowly before, but the idea fascinated him, challenged him. He had everything to gain, including, if it worked, the knowledge to use against the celemae.

Time was something he didn't have, but this experiment would require it, along with great patience and restraint.

The idea already tempted him. He could draw upon her power while they walked, but he held back, not wanting her to collapse in public or to frighten her from him. He would need a time when he could concentrate and when she was less than fully conscious so she would barely notice.

They strode past cars parked or landing and the thin numbers of pedestrians before storefronts and office buildings. Lilly said little, but her hand in his radiated a need for companionship. She would be almost too easy.

A pair of Peacekeepers in dark blue uniforms with dark visors on their helmets hiding their eyes strode past in the opposite direction. Batons swung with the stride of each left leg, a pistol holstered on the opposite hip with an array of pouches around their belts. There was his other problem—keeping their activities out of the mainstream attention.

The pair strode down the street beyond them, but dark intentions grew in their wake.

Darrac surreptitiously glanced about and caught sight of the men—one leaning against the pole of a streetlamp, his keen eyes following them, and the tap of steps and presence of another approaching from behind. They followed the street around a bend, where the people thinned to nearly no one.

A meal worth savoring, if he could take them all at once. Unfortunately, he couldn't let Lilly see.

Darrac leaned down to Lilly and whispered in her ear, "When I tell you, run back and find the Peacekeepers."

"What—" She turned to him in confusion, but his squeeze of her hand stopped the question on her lips.

"Take the next right," a hushed voice said from behind.

"Who—" Lilly twisted.

"Eyes forward," the same voice hissed in a threatening tone.

Darrac pulled her around to face forward again.

"What do you want?" Her voice trembled.

"Turn here."

Darrac led her around the corner into an alley with trash incinerator power generators humming noisily on the sides of each building.

Another pair of men stepped into their paths. Four all told. Even better.

"Be ready," he whispered to Lilly.

She gripped his hand, but he let go.

"Here's how this works," the voice from behind said over the din of the incinerators.

Darrac turned around, seeing the street some ways behind him and the man from the streetlamp within easy reach.

"You will hand over your IDC or we kill you."

"You can't use personal codes without a DNA scan," Lilly said. "They have to match. It won't do you any good."

The man flicked out a knife and rubbed it against the smooth part of his cheek where the dark scruff had been shaven along his jaw in waves. "Did I say _or_ kill you? I was trying to be nice."

The threat flashed in his eyes and a malice emanated from him that fueled Darrac's hunger. He pulled Lilly close to keep her from them. Killing her would only allow the luriel spirit free. He couldn't risk that. It had to be disposed of properly to prevent its return.

"You don't want to do this," Darrac said.

The malicious smile on the leader radiated the darkness from within. The others chuckled with arrogance and vile intentions. The hunger for all that negative energy taunted his restraint.

"Oh, yes, we do."

Lilly pressed close to him, her free arm tight around his.

"Let go," he murmured, releasing his hand from hers and prying her grip from his arm.

"Be careful." She pressed close despite his efforts.

The men closed in with knives in their hands. Weapons were banned except by special permit, if he remembered correctly, but criminal elements didn't follow the law.

"Hand them over," the leader demanded.

"Make me."

"Those Peacekeepers won't be here in time to help you."

"I don't need them." The thought of a good brawl sent a rush of anticipation through Darrac that tightened the muscles of the human form he wore.

The first attack came without warning from behind. Darrac whirled and sent him sprawling, his precise movements bumping Lilly but not knocking her over. The others moved around them more warily than before his demonstration.

"You're still going to hand over your IDCs." The leader motioned to the others, who circled with knives ready.

Darrac stood prepared, aware of their movements and Lilly's presence. He had to get her away so he could finish this to his satisfaction.

The two rushed in on him and he shoved Lilly away. "Go! Get the Peacekeepers."

She hesitated, but when he let them beat him down, he caught a view of her disappearing around the corner when the leader approached. Finally.

"You're not going to cause any more trou—"

Darrac caught the man's wrist and yanked him down. A quick move and he had them all in a heap. He fell to his knees on them and reached down to press his hands over parts of all three men.

"You will interfere no more."

Anger transformed into fear while he absorbed them into him, gaining their strength and a greater sense of being human. Upon the dissipation of their bodies, their clothes fell to the ground.

Darrac straightened, feeling more satisfied with that meal than with the food he had consumed to fool Lilly.

She might have sensed his feeding, like other celemae would. For a while, he'd have to hide.

In a thought, he transported himself back to Keigan Castle, once more the center of his domain in the Gray Realm.

# Chapter 17

**M** ychel sat up, watching the rise of buildings outside the cab's windows flash in the glow of the afternoon sun in sheets of hazy heat. His nap had been interrupted by the touch of negative energy he always dreaded.

"Faster, Kade." He ground the words in frustration and slammed his fist on the glass divider.

"I'm pushing the limits. I can't lose my creds, Mike."

"That won't matter if she's gone."

"I know, but it won't bring her back either. That was some feeding."

That was the last thing he needed to hear. Mychel gave the glass one last futile thump of his fist and fell back into his seat with his arms crossed. Damned Kade for his comments. If the daemon had fed on Lilly, he'd never forgive himself. He had to find her, and they were still several minutes away.

The comm unit. He could try again.

A quick call from his unit was picked up by an automated messaging service. She wasn't available, or at least not answering.

Dammitall! He should have trailed her.

If the daemon had fed... _Please not Lilly._ He couldn't lose another charge.

Every second dragged like an eternity.

The moment the cab sank to the apartment building in the suburb, he pushed the door up.

"Hey!"

With the door opened, he paused before stepping out.

"You owe me," Kade said. "Air doesn't pay bills."

Mychel ducked out and raced across the landing pad to the stairwell; some things were more important than money. Using an override chip he'd kept for such emergencies, he tricked the bioscanner into letting him in. In the instant the door to the stairs opened, he thundered down to her floor. The elevator might have been easier but not necessarily quicker, and the exercise burned off some of his worries by the time he arrived at her door, puffing to catch his breath.

At her door, he touched the ringer key. Faintly, a chime sounded from inside. He waited, his fingers tapping his thigh. "Come on, Lilly. Where are you? Come on...Answer already."

He rang again. After several seconds, still nothing.

Mychel continued to ring, but after a minute of no response, he had had enough. She should have answered the door by now.

Unfortunately, the override chip would be useless a second time in that system.

The Pallora Fen had researched Lilly Lowreth in every public detail. Among the many identifiers, the talented technicians among them had also pulled up her door code.

Mychel pressed the button below the biometrics pad and a number pad popped out. A master code would open any door, or a private code for each door, programmed by the resident. The moment he put in the code, the door slid open and he rushed inside.

"Lilly? Lilly!"

He flipped on the lights and ran from the sitting room to the bedroom. "Lilly! Are you all right? Where are you?"

The bathroom door stood ajar. A few feet away, her bedroom was a mess with clothes piled along one wall and her covers thrown back on her mattress the same that they had been that morning.

"Damn it! I should have accompanied you."

Frustrated, he returned to the main sitting room.

There was a way to find her, if he wasn't too panicked to calm his mind.

Sitting on the floor with his back to the chair, he relaxed his body and mind and focused on the light of the luriel within him. Because they were part of the Shadow Realm, they were connected to every part of it, even those outside it.

"Mychel!"

He jumped to his feet and whirled. "Lilly!" Was it really her? She felt real, and the red and swollen eyes weren't something he would have imagined.

"I didn't hear you...You're all right."

She pulled back from his hands, the dark glare fierce in its accusation. "How did you get in here?"

"I felt the daemon feeding and worried about you," he said, ignoring her question.

At that, her eyes glazed and she dropped her head. "Then I was right."

"You felt it?"

She nodded and stepped around him to fall into the chair. "He's gone." Her lips trembled and tears filled her eyes when she looked up. "I...They attacked us and he..." She choked on her words.

In sympathy, Mychel knelt before her and took her hand in his. "I'm sorry."

She sniffed and shook her head. "He told me to run...I reached the Peacekeepers and I...I felt this...cold, this evil I can't explain."

"A daemon's power spikes when it feeds. I was so worried it got you."

Her eyes begged him to tell her it wasn't real, but he couldn't.

"I rushed back and...he was gone." She choked and put a hand to her mouth. "Piles of clothes; that's all that was left."

"They absorb all energy, and in this realm that means all the atoms of life, which sustains their solid form to hide."

Although he wanted to feel vindicated in his caution, in the face of her sobs, he couldn't. She buried her face in her hands.

"I'm sorry."

"Why can't I be happy? What's wrong with me?"

The anguish in her voice moved him to pull her into his arms. She buried her face and held on, her fingers clutching his coat.

"Nothing is wrong with you," he murmured. "I won't leave you again. Next time, I'll be there to end the daemon before he gets close to you or anyone with you."

She sniffed and tightened her hold around him, inspiring a sense of being needed in a way he had desired long ago and had given up on ever knowing.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," she whimpered.

He could say nothing more, only hold her. But holding her was what he had wanted most. While he had accepted his destiny as a celemae, he was still human with human needs that he struggled to set aside for a higher purpose. He'd had to give up so much of the life he'd enjoyed, a lonely life, despite the wealth and prestige. That had become apparent through Jaz's teachings. Since then, he'd discovered the truth about himself and it had alleviated his loneliness; but he was still weak.

Feeling the lure of her company growing, he gently pushed her away. "You'll learn, Lilly, like I did...like my mentors did. We're your family. The luriel will be your family for eternity. You'll never be alone again."

Her eyes begged him to take away the pain.

"You'll understand in time."

She wiped her eyes and sniffed. "Promise?"

He forced a smile that his heart refused to acknowledge, despite the relief that she was ready to accept her fate.

With a final wipe of her eyes, she cleared her throat. "Then teach me more. I want to be ready."

# Chapter 18

**D** isguised as a human, Darrac masked his identity, eliminating the power of the Shadow Realm for a while to move undetected as a man. He sat at the table of an outdoor café and watched a pair of women emerge from the alley where he had fed on the street gang. They looked about warily, while he sipped the hot tea in the mug before him to hide the smile, hardly noticing the blandness of the drink and its vapors. The women strode past in a hurry to be somewhere, but their grim faces searched the people around them. They feared him and what he might do next.

_You know the pattern. Let's play the game again._ The Pallora Fen could pursue him all they wanted and never find him.

If they wanted a game, he'd give them one.

And all the daemons of Velok would celebrate his ingenuity.

First, he had to take care of Lilly. She would be frightened since he hadn't followed her. The attack had interrupted his plans, making revenge on the miscreants all the more fulfilling.

The two women disappeared down the street, and he rose from his seat at the outdoor table.

Making his way on foot across the city wasn't his preference, but remaining undetected by the Pallora Fen was. It took some time, the sun falling toward the evening horizon, but he reached the main door of Lilly's apartment complex without encountering any of the celemae. Either they'd gone to search for him or had returned to their holes of hiding.

Lilly was his.

"Evenin', sir," the security guard said with the same crispness of his earlier greeting. Middle-aged but keen, he took in everything; but his eyes lingered on Darrac.

"I'm here for Lilly."

"Of course." The twitch of his eye hinted of suspicion. He indicated the comm panel under the canopy on the side of the door.

Instead of his stolen comm unit, Darrac entered her code on the panel and waited for a response.

The guard watched him from the corner of his eye while keeping his attention on anyone who passed.

"Hello?"

The despondency of her voice drew his attention to the panel.

"Lilly. It's me, Darrac."

She gasped, then said, "Darrac! You're alive. By the Gods! How—"

"It's a long story. May I come up?"

"Of course."

The door buzzed before he could switch off the link.

The guard gave a nod but said nothing. Darrac entered the building and crossed the lobby to one of the two elevators. He rode alone for several floors when he noticed the light that was the celemae above him. The luriel inside Lilly had grown stronger than he expected in such a short time. It had barely twinkled when he crossed from the Shadow Realm before its flare, and it had flickered like a candle when they met earlier. Now, it glowed much brighter. No celemae he'd taken had ever grown in power that quickly.

The Pallora Fen. The thought riled his anger. They had begun her training. He was losing time to succeed in this mission, but their interference fueled his determination to undermine them. More than ever, he wanted to prove everyone wrong.

And he hadn't gained the largest following of Velokian magi in the past for simply performing his duty. No other daemons had achieved his status in the Gray Realm, and he would remind everyone—Torek and the Pallora Fen—why he was the most powerful anywhere.

He stepped out at her floor and strode the hall ending in a window overlooking the sun-drenched city. Midway, he stopped at her door and lifted a hand to knock.

It opened to Lilly with red eyes and tears wetting her cheeks.

"Darrac!" Her arms flung around his neck and shoulders, catching him by surprise. He restrained the instinct to defend himself.

"I thought you were dead." Her voice was muffled from her face pressed into his shoulder.

He embraced her in return, measuring the degree of the luriel power within her. It had grown since earlier, but it wasn't the bright spot he had detected. Someone else had been with her, likely was still there. The immense sense of peace emanating from the power within her begged him to take it within him, but the time wasn't right yet.

"How did you escape?" Lilly's fingers combed the hair at the back of his neck, a strange sensation but not without its appeal. When she backed away, he was almost disappointed.

Her eyes bored into him, searching for answers amid the tears. She cried for him.

"I felt...like something bad happened. By the time the Peacekeepers said the alley was clear, I didn't see you, only..." She hesitated, her brows pressed together in a look of consternation and her hands passed down his chest. "Piles of clothes. What happened?"

Darrac's mind raced with plausible explanations. She must have felt his feeding. The curiosity had flickered through his mind that she had grown in her connection to feel that. He had to be careful how he responded.

"They learned not to take on a soldier."

"Soldier?" She blinked as if seeing him for the first time.

"You forgot already—career military. Don't worry about it." His hand on her cheek seemed to calm her and hopefully at the same time to convince her to believe him. "The thugs couldn't hurt me."

"But I felt..." She smiled and leaned into his touch. "Never mind. You're all right. That's what matters."

"No. You're what matters." At that, her smile widened and the spirit within her opened up with her joy. It almost sickened him how it flared but it also tempted him with its strength. Feeding on her would provide more than enough strength to take on Torek. Lilly might prove to be his key to winning against the Lord of Velok; she was one celemae too naïve not to trust him but also very strong.

Ideas sparked into an inferno of possibilities. It could work with her. Never had he come so close to reaching his goals, all because he had failed to destroy her in the beginning like any other celemae.

"You're special," he said with full sincerity.

"Yes, she is."

At the sound of the man's voice, he turned to see Mychel step from the hallway. Lilly cringed.

"Darrac, you remember Mychel."

"Still playing protective brother?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm.

The man forced a patronizing smile and stopped between them. "Always."

Lilly's eyes narrowed slightly and her jaw clenched in catching Mychel's eyes.

Darrac wanted to throw him out the window but crossed his arms to stop himself. Offending Lilly would not achieve his goals, although he had the impression she half wanted to throw the man out herself. He wouldn't try to stop her if she did.

"Mychel was just leaving," she said and pushed him towards the door. Darrac stepped aside, glad to be rid of the interloper between him and his prey.

Mychel stopped outside the door with it still open. "I'll see you soon, Lilly." His eyes lifted to Darrac with a frown. "I'm glad you were able to keep her safe from the gang."

Before Darrac could respond, Lilly closed the door.

"I'm sorry." Regret pressed on her brow. "I shouldn't have left you. I was so afraid..."

"You did the right thing." Darrac pulled her close, drawn by the power within her, the growing power of the Shadow Realm in the form of the luriel. "I'm glad you're safe."

"I'm so relieved to see you. I thought..." She shook her head and slid past him towards the center of the apartment. "Never mind. How about we stay in the rest of the day?"

"That sounds perfect." Exactly what he needed.

She returned his smile and patted the sofa for him to join her. "Vids, dinner...getting to know each other better since we were interrupted?"

"And no street thugs?"

Her smile relaxed, the glow from within shining out in a beacon of temptation to him.

Except for one problem he sensed nearby.

Darrac leaned back next to her and turned to the door. "He's lingering outside."

Lilly blinked and looked in disbelief. A second later, her eyes narrowed and her body stiffened. "Of course, he would. Excuse me a second."

She stormed away to the door and slapped the controls to open it.

"Go home, Mychel."

Satisfaction raced through him to hear the ferocity in her voice directed at the Fen protector.

"That attack was no coincidence," Mychel said in a low voice. "They're still after you. I vowed not to leave you again."

After a huff, she said, "Fine. But this is my life."

"I understand." The calm in that voice sent a chill through Darrac.

The door hissed shut and Lilly stormed around him to rejoin him on the sofa.

"Is there a problem?"

"I hope not." She scrunched her legs up tightly beneath her and wrapped her arms around her body. When he stretched an arm around her, she fell into him, trembling, and pressed close.

He had her where he wanted her—trusting him. Circumstances could not have been more in his favor.

She grabbed a remote control from a small table next to her and the clear viewer burst to life on the wall opposite them. "I don't want to think about him. He's a nuisance, that's all. This is our time, and I'm glad we have this second chance."

Her hopeful smile gave him all the confirmation he needed that she would cooperate.

While they sat watching the vids play through the remainder of the afternoon into evening, he held her close and focused on absorbing the energy of Fal Oroneth within her. Controlling his feeding to keep from raising her suspicions or alerting the Pallora Fen meant complete attention. Slowly, the flicker of luriel waned, and her breathing slowed with the setting of the sun. No one interrupted, and his strength increased.

At last, the light within her seemed to diminish to nearly nothing. After the men in the alley, he didn't need to finish her. Rather, if he let the luriel recover, he could feed again...and again...

# Chapter 19

**L** illy rolled over in bed, aware of the tight clothes restricting her movements, street clothes, not stripped-down for an all-night sleep. The time on her clock startled her—almost midday.

To hell with her clock. She had only a few days left of vacation.

Work. That thought left a bad taste in her mouth.

The last few days rushed by in flashes of the strangest events of her life. Maybe today would be normal and she could relax before returning to the usual schedule. She'd have some interesting stories to talk about at the midday break.

Like Darrac. She still didn't know where he lived or exactly what he did in the Peacekeepers, but she had time and she wanted to learn everything.

And judging by the emptiness of her bed, he had set her in bed to let her sleep undisturbed and left like a gentleman. The man was too good to be true.

But where had he gone?

The answer chased the question through her head.

"Mychel." Lilly ground the answer that forced itself into her head. Having him sitting outside her apartment had ruined her time with Darrac. Knowing Mychel was outside her door had made them cautious. Sure, he had a good reason to stay close after the daemon attack, she supposed; but she didn't have to like it.

A shudder raced through her, waking her fully. What had he said to Darrac while she was asleep? What accusations might he have made? Could he have threatened Darrac?

Why couldn't he simply let her enjoy her life a little? She wasn't a child that needed guidance.

She stood up and reached back to unfasten her shirt. For a second, she thought a shadow in the corner moved and stared to be sure she was wrong. After the last few days, she couldn't be sure she wasn't imagining things.

She blinked, but nothing moved. It had to be her imagination playing tricks. She was still tired.

She pulled the shirt off and unfastened her pants, then wiggled to push them to her ankles and stepped away, anxious to clean up and get on with the day and finding Darrac. Being close to him felt right; she could finally let go of Rian.

The hot shower revitalized her. Lilly stepped out feeling normal, clean and rested for the first time in days. Between her midnight flee from the nightmare face, the Pallora Fen, and going out and meeting Darrac, the morning routine grounded her in reality, even if it was later than usual. And, she reminded herself, at least she wasn't waking up with a hangover.

Her stomach rumbled for another need—food. She had fallen asleep before dinner last night. The recent days must have been catching up with her to wear her down, and then there were the daemon feedings that tainted the day.

She wished she wasn't aware of it happening. Mychel had been right to be concerned, but she still didn't like him hovering while she moved on with her life.

Before she stepped into the small kitchen with the towel tucked in to stay above her breasts, her comm unit chimed. One message already flashed. The thought of Darrac sent a bolt of lightning through her heart.

She checked the call log. The name on the screen came up for the previous call. All she needed to see was "Mychel" to know. The letdown sank her hopes that Darrac had checked on her.

Lilly huffed and let it go for the auto-service to pick up, allowing her the wish of imagining Darrac's voice.

The comm unit continued to chime for her attention.

She held it close, listening for the system to pick up before deciding to answer. It clicked and Mychel's voice started recording, "Lilly...um...I'm sorry about last night—"

That small voice from the earpiece sparked a burst of anger. She stopped the recording and clicked on the handset. "Mychel."

"Uh...Lilly. Hi. I'm glad you're all right. I'm sorry about last night. I tried several times. I swear it, but when no one answered, I was afraid the daemon had gotten you. I felt its power faintly, so I wasn't sure. I hope you know I don't go barging into anyone's personal space. I'm really sorry. But I was so glad to see you alive when you walked in."

She let out a huff. At least he apologized for breaking into her apartment. It sounded sincere. "I suppose you want me to do more training."

"I _would_ like to prepare you for Enlightenment. The sooner you accept your powers, the safer you'll be. Once you understand and can use them, you'll be better able to protect yourself from the daemons."

She shivered and wrapped her free arm around her. Nothing like being told someone was out to kill you to shake you out of your brief touch of reality. Now she was back in the strange zone she had hoped to leave behind, but she couldn't escape it nor deny it any more.

"All right. When and where?" If daemons were a way of life, she would be better off learning how to defend against them.

"Your place in ten minutes?"

"Half an hour. I haven't eaten yet."

"Half an hour then. I'll be over. Be careful and don't trust anyone."

"You mean you actually left?"

"Yeah. I...saw Darrac leave. He said you fell asleep early. I'll meet you soon." He clicked off.

She slammed the comm unit onto the counter and startled herself. Where had the anger come from? She was annoyed with Mychel, but he hadn't forced her to be what she was. She couldn't hate him for that. He tried to protect her.

But in doing so, he turned her life upside down just when she was healing. She didn't want to give up the chance at love for a war she didn't understand. She wasn't a soldier. She didn't want to be a soldier. She just wanted to feel accepted.

Maybe his training would help her find that peace again. The meditation had calmed her.

With thoughts about the new mess her life had become, she dressed into casual clothes in preparation for the session.

Too bad Darrac hadn't called. She searched through the missed calls but saw nothing since his call yesterday from outside her door. Maybe he had to work. That must have been it.

After a quick sandwich, Lilly sat down on her favorite cozy chair and waited. Something foreboding passed through her, like someone had walked on her grave. She shook off the feeling as a moment of fear among so many uncertainties.

Mychel had seemed anxious to join her. Chances are he would show up before the half hour.

A minute later, the door chime alerted her. "Here we go," she muttered.

The second the door opened, Mychel's shoulders dropped. "Thank the Gods! That daemon fed again. I felt it a few minutes ago. I was afraid—"

"That it came for me. You're too predictable." She stepped aside to let him enter. Did he say a few minutes ago? "What do you feel when a daemon feeds?"

"Like a light has been snuffed out, a cold dread that clenches your being for a flicker of a moment and fades away."

That was it. He described it better than she could have, but she was new to this and wasn't sure if it had been her own hesitations about all this or an actual daemon. That feeling reminded her of yesterday after she left Darrac in the alley, when a cold darkness passed over her. But that had been much stronger.

Maybe Mychel had been right to worry for her. And maybe she could forgive him for his intrusion.

"The ending of a life." She wrapped her arms around herself and led Mychel into the sitting room, where she took her favorite chair and pulled her legs up to her chest.

"Daemons don't need food. Their sustenance is the direct absorption of what you and I have—our life force. Every cell in our bodies creates energy in small amounts. It's what forms our souls and sustains them. When the body dies, ordinary souls leave only fingerprints behind—stray wisps of their energy—but celemae transform and ascend to the Shadow Realm as luriel."

"Interesting bedtime story." Although she tried to sound sarcastic, his explanation made logical sense so that she had a difficult time disputing it, given what she'd seen already. "Teach me how to keep from being daemon chow."

Mychel smiled and knelt before her. "We'll continue the meditation from yesterday. Practice touching the spirit within you and connecting to the Shadow Realm. You were so close..." His words trailed off and he blinked to break eye contact.

He didn't have to finish. She knew what he was being too polite to say—she had rushed off at the first hint of Darrac.

But Mychel didn't chastise her. In that, the shame churned the bile to burn her throat. Things had changed since thinking she had lost Darrac when she barely knew him but felt such a strong connection; the daemon feedings had made her more willing to listen to Mychel. In a solemn voice, she said, "Okay. Tell me what to do."

He reached forward and curled his fingers around her ankles to pull her legs off the furniture. "Sit so you're comfortable. Relax. Meditation isn't a chore; it's relaxation and seeing yourself within."

She could do that. Lilly adjusted her seat so her feet rested flat on the floor, and he sat with his back to the sofa and set his hands in his lap.

"Good. Now the key is not to get too comfortable, or you'll fall asleep. The rooftop was perfect, but the weather isn't cooperating today. Set your hands in your lap..." He walked her through a position she found comfortable but not too relaxing and had her close her eyes and breathe. Once she established a pattern, he spoke softly, describing her inward journey.

More than once, Lilly's thoughts slipped back to Darrac, distracting her from the meditation. Would he call? When? And when would she see him again? She couldn't wait to spend more time with him. Something within her needed to be close to him.

Not yet. She had to learn this. The daemons were real. She had felt them, _seen_ them. If she couldn't connect with the luriel inside her, she wouldn't be able to defend herself against them, or to defend him. And then she would have nothing, would cease to exist.

She couldn't believe her terrible luck.

Actually, yes she could. The irony didn't escape her. When she finally found a man who wanted to be with her, she discovered that she had to give him up. Not happening; not yet. She wasn't ready to be one of the beings from another existence.

But she didn't want to live in fear of that ending quickly either.

"See yourself flying free of this world. Below you, the valleys shrink and fade away. This world, the stars, the river...Nothing is real. It is a dream..."

Lilly tried to see what he described, but like yesterday, she found her thoughts banking around back to Darrac. After losing the focus, she opened her eyes. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"You must. Let go of this world, Lilly. Nothing will be needed or taken to the other. This world serves only this form." He touched her leg, emphasizing his point. She got it—the physical world, their Gray Realm. "The other is like nothing you've experienced. But once you've reached Enlightenment, you'll see why we're willing to ascend. It's beautiful. Not the Shadow Realm, but everything. The energy within you will flow with a purity that you'll seek every moment."

"If it's so great, why are you still here?" If Jazmin had been his mentor and had ascended, he should have too. Shouldn't he?

"I haven't reached that state of grace." He sat back and looked away, staring into a world only he saw. "My purpose hasn't been fulfilled."

"Your purpose? What purpose?" Nagging her like an overzealous parent?

"None of us knows, but each person feels an anchor to this realm that holds them back. Once that has been let go, usually through a task that releases us from the burden, touching the Shadow Realm is simple. We only have to let go."

Interesting perspective. "What haven't you let go of?"

"It's not important."

Aha! Now she had to find out. What kept him attached to this world? Why hadn't he ascended like his friend Jaz? "But it's important to ascend. Right?"

"Yes."

"So whatever your anchor is must be important to you to counteract Ascension."

He stood and walked to the deck doors to stare out at the city. She must have hit pretty close to the mark for him to avoid answering the question. Something stronger than his belief in Ascension blocked him from moving on. By his reaction, he didn't want to talk about something. He was dodging the bullet.

"You know what it is."

"Practice your meditation," he said quietly, his back to her.

"Tell me first what your unfulfilled purpose in this realm is."

"Please, Lilly. You must be prepared for Enlightenment as soon as possible."

Something had happened. Her imagination played gloomy images of what might be possible, but she'd bet it was something she couldn't imagine. She shuddered to consider what might have brought on this sudden change. Part of her didn't want to know, but part of her did, the part that wanted to see him as a real human and not a stalker forcing her to be something she didn't want to be. Sooner or later he would give it away. Maybe by then, she'd be ready to understand.

After all, he didn't really understand what Rian's rejection had meant to her.

"I'm sorry...for whatever happened." The words barely uttered over her breath.

He turned around, forced a smile that collapsed under the weight of regrets shadowing his face, and returned to his place on the floor.

Idiot. She should have been more sensitive, but how was she to know he bore such a burden? She hardly knew him.

The only thing she could do was to try harder.

Lilly closed her eyes and retraced her steps to finding that glimmer she had caught yesterday when a stray thought of Darrac pierced her focus like an arrow. _Darrac...Where are you?_

No. Meditate first. What if the daemon showed up while she was with Darrac? Not good. She had to be prepared. It wouldn't get him. She had lost Rian's companionship. She would not lose Darrac's.

_Focus! Yes. Focus. Feel yourself floating.._.

She drifted away to a place of nothingness. Within that place, a central light glowed brightly. Its mass writhed and undulated like smoke on water. It pulled her to it, calling her, luring her with feelings of wholeness...

The swirling of magic revealed a sleeping infant swaddled in blankets tied about it with leather near a mat where two adults slept.

"Very primitive, these creatures we once walked among who worshiped us." The sad voice came from a somewhat feminine figure.

"We will be whole one day," a deeper voice said.

"You believe this will allow us to stay longer in the Gray Realm?"

"We will have far more time to search for that which was lost to us."

The woman stepped next to the man, both in white with a glow about them shining from within.

"But so primitive. How can they help us?"

"Have faith. It is their simplicity that will allow the light to bloom."

"Some will object. More are seeing this as an opportunity to be something better," she said.

"We are not as strong as we were when we were whole. And it is the only way any of us will have peace. What would happen if our darker halves defeated our better natures? That is now very real. Before we had the freedom to choose. Now, we are far less."

"They will understand," came the quiet reply.

Without another word, the man lifted his hand, which glowed brightly, hiding its form. Light sprinkled through to the infant until the glow subsided and his hand reformed.

"It is begun. We can only wait for the outcome," he said.

"And hope the daemons of our natures do not discover what we have done." The voice came from her throat. "If we can cross, they will find a way."

"This part will return to this realm from whence it came, if they should discover the part of me residing there. In that, this is our best camouflage while we fulfill the mission to reclaim the Un'dei."

Lilly blinked and frowned at the fading images and the feeling of wholeness so profound that her insides ached.

That feeling reminded her of Rian and how he had torn out her heart and stomped it flat with his words. She yearned for that closeness again, but she didn't want to remember the bitter feelings of rejection that came from the lack of contact after he said his last good-bye.

Her eyes stung with the anger and frustration. She wouldn't cry. It was done and she was finally moving on.

Lilly wiped her eyes and sniffed back the threat of tears.

Mychel dropped his head. "We must all work through our pain to accept the connection," he said in a gentle, soothing voice. "You can too."

"It's not that. I saw...I saw images and felt so alive. It's gone now."

"Images?" he asked.

"People of light."

Mychel's eyes widened. "You saw the luriel?"

"I don't know. It could have been a dream. It isn't the first time. I think I've had other dreams."

"You've had other visions?" He adjusted his position to sit forward. "What did you see?"

Already, the images faded into the ether like nothing more than the dreams of the night.

She shook her head and shrugged. "People in white, a baby. They spoke of something called the..." What had it been? Damn, the word escaped her already. "I can't remember."

Mychel pursed his lips for several seconds before saying, "I've never heard of such visions among the Pallora Fen."

"You haven't?" He was supposed to have answers.

"No, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened before. We lost so much in the Reformation. Some believe the daemons were behind it to eliminate the celemae, but clearly the luriel keep trying."

"Why me?"

"I don't know. I don't know what this means, but I'll check with some of the more advanced Fen."

She nodded, disappointed but intrigued by what she had seen and what it might mean. "I'll do what I can to remember more details. I only wish..." She shuddered, wishing this hadn't happened. She couldn't find excuses to avoid his training when the luriel themselves were forcing her to accept them.

"Don't be afraid." Mychel licked his lips and almost laughed. "Yesterday you couldn't gain focus, and today...you're connecting more deeply than any of us."

At the encouragement, she blinked away her concerns. The sympathy on his face revealed what had been hiding behind his eyes. Maybe he understood.

"You should be able to touch the Shadow Realm easily."

Lilly closed her eyes and tried again, but when she didn't want to see another vision, she couldn't reach that peace again. After some time, she heaved a sigh.

"It's like yesterday; it's not happening. I need a break."

Mychel watched her from where he sat on her floor at the foot of the sofa, the hilt of his sword sticking up over his shoulder. His lips twitched into an almost-smile. "Take a break. Maybe the vision draws on too much of your strength. You can try again later. And you don't want to force anything. It has to come naturally."

"It was...peaceful." And revealing, if she could make sense of it.

His smile blossomed with hope to cast a light where the cloud had shadowed his facade. "You're on the right path. That's progress."

"Can we be done for today?" She wanted to see Darrac. How she wished she could discuss this with him, but she'd sound like a lunatic religious zealot to talk about this. She wanted to share with someone else what she had discovered, to trust him with her hopes and dreams and feelings, to be close to him as she had been with Rian.

At that, the dream shattered. Maybe she was better off keeping some distance for a while.

Mychel stood up. "I guess that's my cue. I should clean up and change, but I'll be back later, after you've had a rest. I won't be gone long. Be careful of the daemon. Focus on that peace if it shows up. Push aside the darkness if you feel it." He headed to the door, where he stopped. "You'll be all right, Lilly."

"Thanks." His words humbled her. She had seen and felt the truth. He had been correct to worry last night. She shouldn't have doubted him.

He tipped his head and departed. Lilly fell against the door after he'd gone, her thoughts returning to the vision. She had almost touched the ether, that gap between the two realms. She couldn't deny that something lived inside her, something bright and warm and special.

Something that was showing her glimpses, she assumed, of the other side, but were they past, present, or future?

Now she truly feared the daemon. Would she be ready if it attacked?

Part of her wished Mychel had stayed.

# Chapter 20

**D** arrac tracked the dark presence to the dangerous part of the city, where he splashed through a puddle from the recent shower and stopped in a shadowy alley. The black form billowed and writhed over the two piles of clothes. Red eyes turned on him, and the other daemon took its normal form with curved horns, a flat face with fangs below the nose slits, leathery wings upon its back, and a tail that ended in a sharp spike. Although not fully corporeal, he was solid enough. Darrac didn't recognize the individual; a lesser daemon, likely a sarnov as any lesser of a daemon would be incompetent in the Gray Realm.

The daemon glared upon him.

"You should not be here like this," Darrac hissed.

"Who are you to command me?" The voice growled in threat.

Darrac glanced around and, seeing and sensing no threats, transformed to his natural form with the scars and marks of battle that had distinctively branded him for millennia. The other fell to one knee.

"My lord. My respect. I meant not to intrude on your territory."

"Be quick. The celemae will be here soon. Why are you here?"

"A new celemae has arisen in the city. I was sent to destroy it."

Darrac motioned with his clawed finger for the other to stand. He had barely become aware of another since leaving the presence of Lilly. She was indeed powerful to have blinded him to another celemae awakening. "Who sent you?"

"Lord Kedrot, the moment the power sparked." He turned his shoulder with the tri-fire brand of his master. Kedrot forced the others into servitude to him, marking them as if he owned them, but most deserted for other frael. Only the weakest dared to stay; the risks of deserting were too great. This one was one of those weaklings.

That Kedrot had sent a lower ranking daemon meant he was making his move for the favor of Lord Torek, something that would never have come while Darrac had been present in their lord's court. Most daemons competed for power, but only a few like himself had any chance of truly gaining the support of a majority. Kedrot was far too weak to be recognized by Torek as more than fodder. Torek had only named him a frael to keep him close.

Darrac flashed back to his own confrontations with Torek, new suspicions burning in his mind.

He looked down at the piles of clothes. "Very good that you fed first. Tarisk attacked at his weakest. I am here to clean up his mess. Do not fail us!"

"No, my lord." He bowed his head to Darrac.

Very good. This one respected his authority, at least to his face, although Darrac wasn't sure they hid their own ambitions well or that this one was truly that loyal. Darrac had gained Kedrot's respect early in his bid for power, but apparently his absence was being felt in a vacuum of power.

"Before you go, tell me of Torek's plans."

"The legions are gathering for the final assault on the capitol city of Arthan."

Darrac snorted, his wings arching up in his agitation. Torek was a fool if he expected to force the luriel from the timeless city. The daemons should never have left but should have formed their revolution from within. Leading them out had been Torek's first mistake, but only in looking back could they see it.

"I advised against it. He should have listened." The final stages of their plans were in motion, but Arthan was to be later, after they isolated the capital by completing the spell that would weaken the power of the luriel. Taking on the luriel without weakening them was madness. Torek would lead them to ruin.

"Yes, my lord. Kedrot spoke against it, but Torek demanded fealty."

"Torek _demanded_ fealty?" Torek was no better than the luriel if he expected the others to be his slaves. At one time, he had been a charismatic leader of the revolution against their masters, promising equal status for all daemons. Since then, the power had gone to his head, a potent, addictive drug that swept away rational thought and consideration of the soldiers who believed in him. And time waned on, likely feeding this new sense of urgency.

"Yes, my lord."

"I will speak with Torek. Complete your task."

"Yes, my lord." With that, the young daemon blinked away. Young. One of the younger soldiers. Darrac had been young when Torek's ideology reached him and he turned on his luriel masters to help start the Daemon Revolution.

Someone needed to talk Torek out of this idiotic idea of going straight to the heart of the luriel's base of power before they had annihilated the outposts, and Darrac was the only one with the intelligence to see it. Daemons may have helped build the glorious city and knew its weak points, but the luriel had lived there since the beginning and had plenty of time to fortify those weaknesses. By now, the fortress city was nearly impenetrable from a siege.

Damned be the Lord of Velok! He would lead them to destruction.

Or perhaps Torek served the luriel or had bargained with them to return to the city. There was only one way to know.

Crossing to the Shadow Realm strengthened Darrac. He would be weak again upon returning to the Gray Realm, but he now had Lilly. Not even the bridge in Keigan Castle could empower him the way Lilly had.

But he had been away too long.

The moment he materialized in Velok, he hurried to reach the inner chamber of Torek's den. A den! They should be living in the cities now controlled by the luriel. Cities every class of daemon had a part in building for their masters.

Masters. The bitterness of the thought raged through Darrac. Never again would he bow to a master, whether daemon or luriel. The luriel had turned them into slaves to keep them subservient. The luriel had considered daemons to be lesser beings. The daemons possessed all their knowledge and skills, however, and sentience of their own.

Like Torek, Darrac had been one of the original daemons. Torek had been one of the strongest of the original inhabitants of the Shadow Realm. That was his only claim to authority.

But no more. The time came soon for Torek's failed reign to end.

When the time was right, Darrac would challenge him. He wasn't strong enough yet, however.

But he was wise with experience and all knew it. Torek would listen to him.

He found Torek in his den, pacing. Each step boomed in the vast cavern lit by the faint crystals embedded in the walls.

Something had agitated their leader. The larger frael turned when Darrac stopped in the cavern opening, his red eyes glowing from the shadows. His tail slapped in aggravation.

"You succeeded?" Torek's voice grated the words with menacing expectation.

"This celemae is strong, but she has a weakness I can use against the Pallora Fen. I have not yet succeeded, but I encountered a servant of Kedrot and, upon hearing his news, returned to speak with you."

Torek straightened to his full height, a head taller than Darrac. "You return in failure?" His tail thumped a threat on the stony ground behind him.

Darrac stood his ground. He had returned to convince Torek to wait. "I have not failed, but set in motion other uses for this one. You, however, will fail, if you continue directly to Arthan." Too late, he realized the challenge in his words spoken in anger.

Torek's tail lashed. His nose slits widened. "You returned to admonish my strategy? You, who cannot finish a celemae?"

Darrac bristled at the accusation but refused to be baited. "You should seek counsel, my lord. I believe you'll find many who oppose this decision. Too many will be lost to recover soon. We must take smaller steps. We cannot afford to lose."

"Do not preach to me!" Torek's voice bellowed loudly from the acoustics of the cavern walls.

"I preach because you have lost your reason. Your ambition clouds your judgment. You appointed me to your side for this reason."

Torek growled, baring his fangs for a moment, and shook his head. Darrac was right, but Torek hated hearing the truth. He whirled and thrashed his tail against the rocky cavern wall. Cavern walls of rough stone, unfinished because they had hoped not to make it a permanent home, despite hundreds of years.

"And I may be able to use this celemae to our purposes."

Torek halted his fury and turned. "How?"

"She's particularly strong for a fledgling. But she's not fully trusting of the Pallora Fen. With a little time, I may be able to show her the truth. We could change the war by turning celemae against one another."

"Don't try my patience! Others have failed."

"Others didn't have the practice I've had with these fledglings."

Torek snorted. "You and your playthings." He paused. "You expect a celemae would turn against their nature? You are a fool, Darrac."

"I am no one's fool, my lord."

"How will this serve us?"

"We can use her to subvert the luriel. Give me some time. She will be our key to the city. You'll see." And his key to gaining the confidence of the others. With it, he would challenge Torek and destroy him. As leader of the daemons, Darrac would turn the tables on their former masters. If his plan succeeded, the daemons would lose far fewer than Torek's way.

"We attack in five days."

Five days?! Darrac had little time. But five days in the Shadow Realm passed far differently in the Gray Realm. He didn't need more than that to weaken Lilly. Already, he had succeeded in nearly finishing her off with a Pallora Fen outside the door.

"Delay the attack, my lord. Allow me to set in motion my plan and spare further daemon lives. What good is sacking a city if we've not the strength to defend it, to lose it once more?"

Torek's eyes flared red and his tail lashed, but he restrained his anger. He must have seen the logic in Darrac's argument. Others might also have argued that point, but Torek would likely have forced his way on them. In that case, Darrac would have only to step up and challenge him. No one would object, because all the top generals would have lost their faith in the old frael.

"Four days. No more. Make no fool of me, Darrac."

"No, my lord. You will rise triumphant when I return." Four days there equated far more in the Gray Realm than was necessary to test his plans.

Although he had been only minutes in the Shadow Realm, by now Lilly might be looking for him. Darrac would have to make an appearance, if he hoped to win her. And the Pallora Fen would be pulling her the other direction. He couldn't allow it.

Darrac transported to the Gray Realm, weak from the travel and the effort of staying. This time, however, he came through in the city. He couldn't afford to scare Lilly again. Besides, he needed sustenance after his effort of transporting between realms. After absorbing a couple of humans, he slipped to the shadows of her building and claimed the human form he had before. The clothes left from his feeding on this crossing fit far better than the last ones.

But something was wrong. He felt it through him, the touch of the other realm. He had to hurry before he lost his opportunity.

The Pallora Fen!

# Chapter 21

**L** illy reached for the writhing light within her. Warmth flowed over her, through her, consuming her in feelings of contentment without sparking further visions.

"It's beautiful and inspiring. I can't describe it."

"Yes. It is the luriel within. Cradle it. Protect it. Keep it safe, for it will save you from the powers of the daemon."

Lilly shuddered. The darkness had passed through her again not long ago. A daemon had fed. Another person or persons died. "How often...do they attack?"

"They are particularly active lately."

She stared at his puzzlement and pinched brows, wishing he hadn't said that. "Is it...me?"

A knock on the door made her jump. She put a hand over her heart to keep it from racing away and took a breath, glad for the interruption. And yet, she had come so close to something special that she wanted to press on now.

She walked to the door and opened it with Mychel beside her. All thoughts of luriel and daemons vanished.

"Darrac!"

A coy smile greeted her. It flickered into something dark when his eyes passed to Mychel. "Is this a bad time?"

"No. No...ah..." Oh, Gods! _Hurry! Say something._ "Mychel was just..." She turned to him, trying to give him a look that pleaded for a good excuse.

"Checking in."

Darrac gave an indignant huff. It did look suspicious with the excuses and Mychel there all the time. She really did want to be with Darrac. He made her feel attractive and wanted, and she needed that; but Mychel brought a calm with him and had shown her something exciting and empowering. She needed both.

"I'm sure Lilly can take care of herself," Darrac said.

Mychel looked down at her, his brows pinched slightly in question. She gave a nod—yes, she was confident that she could do what she needed to fend off a daemon.

"I'll be all right," she assured him.

The twitch at the corner of his mouth and the tilt of his head said he wasn't so sure, but he stepped past Darrac into the hallway. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right."

Mychel flashed a quick smile to her and tipped his head to Darrac. "Treat her right."

The muscles beneath the shirt went taut so she could define each one. She put a hand on his arm and the hard muscles, to satisfy her own desire for contact and to reassure him. He relaxed beneath her touch, his posture straightening from its slightly hunched poise warning of an intention to attack.

"Let it go." She should have expected this kind of confrontation. Before it degenerated into a fight, she pulled Darrac inside and shoved Mychel out, and the door shut. Darrac had the worst timing on this, but she wasn't about to turn him away after a day of his absence. She could catch up with Mychel later. He wasn't going anywhere, not when he was determined that she should participate in his Enlightenment thing.

Darrac gave her a wary look. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Nothing. No. He was trying to teach me some of his religious stuff."

"Religious stuff?" His eyes narrowed.

Oh, no. Religion was never a good topic.

She shrugged and forced a smile. How else could she explain it? "Yeah. It's nothing. Nothing for you to worry about." She pulled him close, longing for his arms to cradle her like they had last night when they innocently snuggled, until she fell asleep. "So, where were you?"

"I had business elsewhere."

"Military business?"

He wrapped his arms around her. "Yes."

"What kind of military business?"

"I can't discuss it."

"Oh."

"Don't worry. It won't keep me away." His grin made her heart flutter. Dear, sweet gods, he was hot.

"That's good." She took his hand and led him to the sofa to sit with her. "We have the afternoon and evening ahead of us."

"What would you like to do?"

"I don't know. Dancing, a walk in the park or along the river...anything. Mostly, I want to know _you_. What's it like, being a soldier, I mean?"

He sat down with her and leaned back, his arm outstretched in an overt invitation to snuggle. Unable to resist the closeness, Lilly cuddled up next to him with her head on his chest and inhaled the faint musky scent. Oh, how he smelled good!

"I missed you," he murmured.

Her insides skipped gaily and she bit her lips. This couldn't be real. He was too good to be true. It was a dream, a very good dream from which she didn't want to awaken. "You did?"

"Mm, hmm." His fingers caressed her arm from shoulder to wrist and back.

"Then, stay tonight. Even if I fall asleep. Promise me? Just be here for me?"

His breath roared in his chest, deeply, thoughtfully several times, until she looked up.

"I don't want to have to leave," he finally said. "But I have responsibilities."

She laid her head on his chest again and rubbed her hand over the muscles, disappointed. "I only have a couple days left of vacation, then I'll be at work all day. I won't have time like this."

"Then I'll make sure to take advantage of what time you have."

"That's all I ask."

* * *

Darrac listened to Lilly's steady breathing. She was once again asleep after being weakened by his slow feeding. For convenience of his human form, he had carried her into the bedroom and laid down with her to continue feeding. It almost hadn't worked. The luriel in her had strengthened; Mychel had been training her. He had barely come back in time to stop it from advancing. Had she touched the emptiness between worlds, it would have been more than he could counter.

He had to stop her from reaching it, from connecting to the other realm through Enlightenment. He had to keep Mychel away.

He would have to stay with her almost constantly to deter the celemae from their Enlightenment.

Mychel would return, however. The Pallora Fen were persistent.

They would insist she go to their ancient ruins, where thousands of years of rituals had narrowed the gap between realms—they too had a bridge. He had commandeered one of theirs thousands of Ahlian years ago, but they had created another and set up wards to keep out daemons in this realm. The few daemons who had dared to cross there had been immediately vanquished. They no longer tried.

He had to find a way to deal with Mychel. It might not be difficult if he weakened the luriel in Lilly to where the Pallora Fen would delay her Enlightenment.

Lilly's body relaxed into a deeper sleep.

He watched her for several seconds, feeling the faint glimmer of the luriel; he couldn't completely destroy it without destroying her and that was not yet an option. She was an unusual celemae, but perhaps that was because of the human soul maintaining its dominance over the piece of luriel seeking to absorb it. That might be because of his slow feeding already, or it could be her. In the latter case, he admired her.

A part of him questioned the righteousness of his actions, but the luriel were no better for spawning within humans to feed on them. Humans were food for both of them, no more, and yet, in his human form, it almost felt wrong to consider her no better than food such as humans consumed.

Asleep next to him, she appeared weak and innocent, yet within lurked something stronger than he had expected. Perhaps that was the answer he sought against the luriel. There might be more to her than he had expected. In that, it might be worthwhile not finishing her but to see what happened in letting her live and continuing to stay with her, not only for his own benefit in continually feeding on the luriel's power but also as an experiment.

A part of him found some sense of contentment in spending more time with her. He held her warm body close, the spirit within her luring him in its potential power. Thoughts of what he could do with that poured through his head, and he found some relief in knowing he had a reason to keep her alive.

# Chapter 22

_C_ _louds blotted out the sun, casting the open land in a shadow darker than the night. The clouds bubbled and boiled in an angry torrent and closed in on her. Thunder rumbled like a predator defending its kill._

The land disappeared, leaving only the clouds. From them, two points of red shone out. Not points, but eyes. Sinister eyes. The thunder, a malevolent, taunting laugh.

The clouds blazed on fire around her, consuming her in the heat. A deathly face formed from the flames, those red eyes fixed on her. "Lilly..." The voice growled.

"No!" She backed away at its advance, but the mouth opened and shot forward to swallow her.

"NO!"

Lilly gasped and woke up to a dark room. What kind of nightmare was that? Sweat poured from her and she lifted off an arm and pushed away from the body next to her. A second later, she breathed easier in the familiarity of her bedroom outlined by the faint streetlight from the window. Again, she had fallen asleep in his arms, but this time, he had stayed as promised.

She was glad of it, especially after that dream.

"Darrac," she whispered. The dream left her trembling, a stained feeling in her like a darkness over her heart that she couldn't shrug off with waking.

"Darrac." She nudged his shoulder, desperate for him to comfort her.

He rolled onto his back and groaned. "What is it?" He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Are you all right?"

"No. I don't know. It was...I had a horrible dream." Her eyes stung with tears burning to escape and wash away the void that threatened to consume her.

He stretched out his arm to her, and patted his chest with his other hand. "Here."

Lilly laid in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder and her fingers curling into his shirt in desperation not to let him leave her.

"You're shaking." The concern weighing on his voice soothed her.

"It was horrible. So horrible." A lump caught in her throat, and she clenched her fingers around a section of his shirt. That face she had seen...It reminded her of the daemon over her bed. "I saw the monster again."

"Monster?"

Stupid. She shouldn't have said it like that, but she wanted him to understand. She needed someone to console her. "I never told you about the night before we met. I woke up and saw this awful face above my bed. I saw it again...now...in my dream."

He paused long enough for her to question whether he would believe her. "It was only a dream," he finally said. "You're all right. I'm here now."

"Yeah." He was there, and she pressed closer for the comfort she needed. "But it felt so real. I feel cold inside and empty. I can't explain it any other way. I don't like it." Now she wished Mychel was near. She would feel more secure knowing he was ready to fight off any daemon that attacked her. Had it been a daemon?

"Nothing will hurt you." Darrac kissed her forehead and curled his arm around her to hold her close to him. She stretched her arm across his muscular chest and closed her eyes, wanting to believe he was right, but still wished for Mychel to be near.

The fear faded with his rubbing on her arm, but the shadow over her heart lingered. "I know, but it seemed so real, so vicious. I...I couldn't stop it." This time it had attacked in her dream. Only waking had let her escape. Or had she? The darkness seeped through her without fading. She couldn't shake it.

"I'm here. Nothing else will hurt you. You can sleep."

"I'm afraid to. What if the nightmare returns?" She didn't want to see that horrible face again. Why couldn't she dream about Darrac, flowers, or the stars?

Or was this some deep psychological fear inspired by her break-up with Rian?

That had to be it; a daemon would have finished her. And a part of her still hurt. That pain was a monster gnawing on her heart and soul. These nightmares or visions—whatever they were—were some way of her mind manifesting her fears, maybe her loneliness.

_Too much thinking. Darrac's right. Go back to sleep._ There would be plenty of time to analyze her dreams come morning, and she had a soldier protecting her and had learned to find the peace to deter a daemon. The warmth of his body chased away the monsters, but not the stain of the lingering strangeness left by the nightmare. That would ease in time. She'd had enough nightmares in her life to know that sometimes it took time, and distractions.

Working would keep her mind off things, and feeling that light inside that Mychel had shown her would help but she was too shaken to find it.

For now, she had Darrac. She snuggled closer, stretching out next to him, his presence acting as a shield against the deepest fears.

"I'm here, Lilly," he said in a gentle voice.

She had trouble settling her mind, but between the blur of a drifting mind and the room brightening, she must have fallen back to sleep.

When she opened her eyes, the gray of a cloudy day muted the sunshine of early morning.

"You slept better," a deep voice said with a note of amusement.

Yes, she had, but she was still tired and that dark stain from her nightmare lingered within her. She would do anything to get her mind off it. Lying in bed with him didn't seem to help, although she would love for that to be the answer.

It wasn't, and she had other obligations.

"I can't. I, um, agreed to meet Mychel."

His muscles hardened. She looked up to a hard glare on his face.

Oh, no. She didn't want him to walk out because she was two-timing him. She wasn't. "He's no one special. Really. You're the man I want to spend time with."

"Just your brother? Really?"

Damn. He'd figured that out; the doubtful look on his face said it all. She was a terrible liar.

"No. I'm sorry. But he doesn't mean anything to me. He's a friend, a teacher."

"Then stay with me, Lilly. It's all I ask." He relaxed, and the lines of his face softened into something more inviting. "I kept my promise to stay after you fell asleep."

He knew how to lay the guilt on her. She pressed her forehead to his chest to hide the grimace. "I'm sorry. I promised Mychel before you came." She had to get away, before she gave in to the need for more closeness than snuggling, and pushed herself from the bed.

His hand caught her arm and stopped her from standing. "Is that what you want?"

_No._ She wanted him. "Yes. He's...shown me something about myself. I'm learning things that are amazing. He's teaching me. That's all. I promise." She sounded far more enthusiastic than she expected, or maybe not. She had discovered a wonder within herself yesterday that made everything so much clearer, and it might sweep away the darkness of her nightmare to touch that inner glow again.

"It'll be done soon. I promise. Then..." She stared at those dark eyes and the gentle smile pleading with her. It tugged at her heart, and she saw herself reflected in his eyes that sparked a sense of familiarity. "He won't get in the way...

"Why do I feel like I've always known you?" How could something feel so right? "That's something I don't feel from him," she said. But there was a sense of peace about Mychel.

"Please, Lilly."

The pleading in his voice stopped her from standing. Darrac pushed up onto his elbow, his brilliant brown eyes tugging at her emotions.

But she needed to protect herself from the daemon, so Mychel would leave her alone and she could spend more time with Darrac without living in fear.

"I have to do this, or he won't leave me—leave us—alone."

Darrac hesitated for several seconds and let out a heavy sigh. "If this is what you want."

"I _want_ to spend time with you. This is what I _have_ to do."

"All right." He slid off the bed near her and stood without touching her. "Let me know when you've made up your mind."

"Darrac..."

He walked past her without a look.

"Darrac, please." She followed him from the bedroom and through the small apartment. He couldn't leave now, not like this.

At the door, he stopped, his head down.

This couldn't be good-bye, not now. "At least give me your comm unit code. I'll contact you after he's left."

He paused, his lips pressed together.

She held her breath, until he finally spoke: "Four one two seven _aer_ three five."

"Thank you. I'll call you later. I promise that."

He nodded, but the way he avoided her eyes worried her. A second later, he keyed the door open and stepped out. The hanging silence nearly killed her.

* * *

On the way to the nearest elevator, a slow grin climbed Darrac's face. Lilly had fallen for his fake pain.

She needed him, but Mychel would ruin that. Darrac needed a distraction to keep the Pallora Fen away from her, and the magi of Keigan Castle would provide it. Their time to act had come.

When the elevator reached the ground floor, he hurried outside and into the busy streets. Long strides carried him away in a hurry, to where he stepped into the shadow of a space between buildings and used his power to transport himself to the one place in the Gray Realm where he would be safe.

Dank and dark, the lower areas reflected every sound back at him from the lightest puff of air to the scuff of his feet. He reached the central chamber, where the sound opened with the room. An empty room.

No one awaited him. His disciples had abandoned the castle. Ingrates. They would seek to gain power but disappear when asked to serve.

Darrac stormed to the markings on the floor, the thump of his feet pounding. He wished to smash each of them beneath him, a deserved fate if they dared to feign fealty on ambitions of reward without effort. If no one would be there, his pets would not recognize them, which would be their mistake. The fake Velokians would die like the rest who stood in his path.

He stopped on the markings of the bridge, which lit up the room in its glow of power and rushed like the wind that carried through the portal. Power coursed through him, revitalizing in its glory. The room shrank around him and wings extended from his back.

"My lord!"

He whirled on the source of the voice and saw a hooded figure gaping at him. The individual fell in supplication.

"Do not leave us."

Darrac huffed indignantly. In a voice like the rumbling of thunder, he said, "I grant favor only to those who serve me."

"We do, my lord."

"Where were you when I arrived?"

The young man turned his face up. The bob of his throat came before the hesitation in his voice. Darrac recognized the face—Mage Saul. "Here...my lord.

"I saw no one, and no one rushed to serve," he growled.

Saul bowed his head. "So late was I studying that I fell asleep in the corner." He pointed to the nearest corner. "I have tried to utilize the bridge the way you suggested, but I could not find the answer in the texts. The language is a lost dialect from long ago...and many of the others have jobs and homes."

"How many are there?"

"Thirty-three that I know."

The numbers were greater than he expected, but he'd only seen a fraction of them in his last visit. "Then you should have several always here."

"Yes, my lord. I will inform the others." Saul looked down at the glowing symbols of the wheel beneath Darrac's clawed feet. "I promise we will do better. Please stay and teach us."

Air rushed out in a gust from Darrac's nostril slits. "You are the only one here?"

"No. There are two others."

"Bring them. You will be given command of my pets."

A grimace teased unsteadily at the corners of Saul's thin lips. "Pets?"

"Now! Find them."

Saul jumped back into the wall, clearly trembling, and bowed. "Yes, my lord." He rushed through the nearby doorway and up the stairs, the pattering echo of his steps fading into the distance.

The new magi hadn't abandoned him, but they had a lot to learn about what it meant to be Velokian. Time had changed the Gray Realm. He had been away too long while executing his plans to overthrow Torek.

Darrac looked through the bridge and swept away the haze with a claw to a clearer view of the browns and reds of the Mirrel Forest of the southern reaches of T'fen on Fal Oroneth. The fanlike leaves of the _embral_ trees rustled in the wind, shifting shadows amid the boulders, giant white, purple, and blue _koorooth_ blossoms, and a carpet of tall grasses. The shrieks, chitters, and frantic trumpets of distant creatures broke the illusion of peace. Something was on the hunt; his summons had been felt, frightening other creatures in their wake. The presence of the pair grew with their approach.

The crash of underbrush announced their presence to all, many of whom flapped into the air or scurried unseen through the grass away from the threat.

Two massive beasts emerged from the flora. Dark, hungry eyes glared at him with the annoyance of having been disturbed but yielding to one whom they recognized as their master. Black lips curled back from sharp teeth, and spikes popped from the black and silver coats. Tails lashed low behind each in a form of subservient agitation.

Soon, the tufted ears turned up and the snarling abated.

"Come forth, my pets," Darrac commanded.

One of the two snapped at the other before skulking towards him. Darrac projected his will over theirs, commanding them fully to obey.

The pair stopped before him on the wheel and sniffed. Spines from their fur settled into hiding.

"Yes. You will do well. As your ancestors served, so shall you."

A low growl from the one on his left accompanied ears flattening and the spikes rising. It turned its head sharply aside.

Darrac followed its gaze to see three hooded figures stop at the doorway and press back like mice, and in size comparison, they might have been.

"Come. Greet my pets."

Their fear amused him. No mage in history had ever welcomed the sight of a carnoc, one of the most vicious predators of either realm and one of his favorite creatures for their size and hunting instincts.

"M—M—M—My lord," the bald man stammered, his eyes wide with horror. "What is this?"

"Your servants. I called upon the carnoc to occupy the celemae. Their desire to hunt doesn't end with a single kill. Their hides are like armor and their spikes capable of being ejected for defense. They will not be brought down easily." The last part nearly purred from his lips.

He stepped back from the bridge and reclaimed his human form. The two beasts stood over him, their shoulders high above his head.

"Approach."

The trio shuffled towards him along the wall, clumping together.

The carnoc watched with ears partially back and lips curled. They saw fear and it drove their instincts.

"With confidence," Darrac said. "They will not hesitate to attack a creature showing signs of fright. They will obey only confidence. You must have their respect."

Saul lifted his head and shoulders and marched more boldly from the others to his side. "I am ready, my lord."

Perhaps Mage Saul would be a better archmage. The young man had the potential but not the true ambition. However, he had too much of a passive nature.

"Very good. Remember—never touch them."

"Yes, my lord."

Darrac looked past him to the others who joined them.

The carnoc watched them closely, saliva dripping from their mouths and gleaming on tusks.

"I have not used carnoc in hundreds of your years." Darrac grabbed Saul's wrist and yanked it towards the pair of hunters. "Let it take your scent as master."

When he felt the arm stiffen, Darrac released his grip. Two snouts large enough to swallow the man whole sniffed down the offered arm and over Saul's robes. Their eyes softened, until one of the other men shifted.

Darrac pushed aside his inkling to let the carnoc take the weakling as a demonstration to the others, but he could not afford to lose what few supporters he had. Instead, he darted between the other two and grabbed one arm on each and held it out. "Stand your ground!"

They quivered in his tight grasp but did as he ordered. The carnoc took in their scents. Darrac eased his grip and stepped back in mild surprise at their continued stance with their arms out for the carnoc to sniff their robes. The sour odor of decay carried on their breaths.

The smell of death.

Darrac stood back while the three magi were assimilated as masters by his pets.

"Show any weakness and they will reconsider," he warned.

The three straightened and dropped their arms.

The pair of carnoc stepped back.

"Warn the others to avoid them."

"My lord, what are we to do with them?" Saul asked.

"Nothing. I will set them loose. They will distract the Pallora Fen, and you will find other ways to cause trouble." The menace hinted in his voice brought out head bobs and ashen faces. "If you need to command them, you may do so, but heed my caution. I've no tolerance for fools."

"Yes, my lord," they each muttered.

Satisfied that they understood, he stepped up between the two beasts and pointed to the open double doors of the chamber. The castle had been adapted over the ages for his purposes, including its accommodations for the larger beasts.

They followed him out through the high and wide corridor of stone and chipped masonry, through the hidden door, and up to levels that had once been stately ballrooms and gallerias throughout the ages. Faces once looked out from the tops of smooth columns supporting the ceiling of the grand hall. All had been smashed in time, now overgrown with foliage. Vines crept up the walls, the natural, slow deterioration of the world's resources were too slow for him.

He stepped into the crisp evening air with his pets, whose ears pricked up and nostrils quivered in the air, catching the myriad scents.

"Go. Hunt. Eat." Darrac murmured the words with the seduction of a lover, excited by the prospects of the destruction they would cause. "Be what you were meant to be."

At the mental snap of his hold on them, they bounded off, clearing a ten-foot wall the way a man steps over a rabbit fence and disappearing from his sight. Their connection to him remained.

But, as he could sense them, so too would the celemae through the same awareness of the energy of the Shadow Realm, which would draw them to their deaths.

Darrac stepped through the remains of a doorway and looked out to see the shadows bounding away into the darkness beneath a blanket of stars and two waning moons.

This would be almost too easy, especially if the Pallora Fen had lost the knowledge of the past.

# Chapter 23

**M** ychel stepped over the stone floor nearly hidden by the grass. For over three thousand years, since the fall of Tae'undir, nature had been winning the slow battle to reclaim the ruins.

Except for one area.

He crossed the open arena surrounded by parts of walls and columns that could have been the teeth of an ancient beast, what had once been a massive gateway to the inner courtyard. Crumbled passageways split off left and right to further ruins. From his position, he could see much of the fortress. Only the rear half was still mostly standing in a testament to the skill of the builders.

Through a wide, intact doorway missing the heavy wood that once sealed the room in which he stood, he looked out over a vast expanse of inner courtyard. Before the great battle of the massive fortress, the walls would have towered above for four levels, matching the rear half. The interior of the courtyard had housed livestock and hosted games in a long forgotten past of legends and myths.

Thousands of years later, the wind rushed over the desolate skeleton of an era before technology, when daemons were a frequent threat, a time when swords were a common weapon. Something about that era inspired him with feelings of home.

Mychel imagined what it must have been like but looked around at the remains of what history said had been the result of a long siege by invading armies from the Cavlak Empire but which the stories passed down by the Pallora Fen said was several large beasts attacking the fortress. Despite the shadow of its dark history, he always felt at home at Tae'undir.

His steps rustled through the tall grasses, sending up insects to jump and fly from his path. He, the giant beast, sent them fleeing the way the giant creatures had once done to the humans housed here.

Up a handful of cracked and uneven stone steps, he entered a doorway to a dark interior room. To keep his balance, he set his hand on the stone frame of the door, cool and rough in the shady side of the structure. A sense of awe filled him on his passage through several rooms to find a stairway.

Down into darkness broken only by the occasional light of a glowlamp, he descended upon creaky wooden steps, which had been rebuilt when time showed its effects. Stale, musty air greeted him, but he took comfort in the quiet and humbling lack of modernity.

Into the catacombs where the women and children had hidden during attacks, he followed a corridor lined by sconces, every other one flickering with the light of a glowlamp. His steps, although soft, magnified in the silence, sending insects and small rodents scurrying. He passed small rooms etched with symbols of protection, wards against the daemons.

At the end of the narrow corridor, he descended a winding staircase down to another, deeper level. At the bottom landing, he pushed a door open. Beyond lay a vast chamber at least a hundred feet across and fifteen feet to the ceiling—it had been measured. More glowlamps in sconces about the chamber illuminated what made the room special

Around a wheel of symbols on the floor sat at least a couple dozen men and women. Several looked up, the others focused on meditation.

One face in particular caught his attention.

Shira tipped her head in acknowledgment.

After closing the door with care to minimize the creaks and groans of unkempt hinges, he took a place next to her so they could speak without having to raise their voices and disturb the others. The instant he reached the edge of the wheel, the connection to the luriel within him magnified in an explosion. He nearly choked on the profound sense of connection in that place. Never had that happened.

After catching his breath, he returned his attention to why he had come.

"You said it was urgent," he whispered. His voice magnified in the acoustics of the chamber. "I took the first direct rail I could."

"You're aware of the increased daemon activity?"

So, he wasn't alone in his concern. "Yes."

He followed her eyes to the others and caught several pairs of eyes watching him. Shira motioned towards the edge of the room and rose. He followed her out to the staircase and up to one of the rooms, which were just big enough for a small bed and a hole that served for a toilet. His imagination put together the details of living there with the odors that must have filled the place and was glad he didn't have to do more than imagine.

"We've all felt it," Shira said.

"Is that why you called me this far from Noren City?" She wouldn't have taken him away from his duties for anything. He'd ridden the rail for three hours with growing concerns about being called across the continent from Lilly, despite her increasing acceptance of her new situation and her competence.

"I want you here with us for this. We're preparing to open a bridge to the Shadow Realm to contact the luriel directly."

His heart could have stopped. Never in his life had he ever heard of any of them opening a bridge. "The risks..."

"I understand. But we'll be working together and focusing on the luriel." She paused, studying him intently in the faint light from the corridor shining into the small room.

"But the daemons...If they come through instead..."

The wry lift of her brow answered his unfinished statement.

Of course. That was why she had called him.

"You noticed the power surging through the wheel?"

"How could I not? I've never felt so...aware."

The trace of light revealed a smirk on her lips. "One of the others noticed it this morning. I was a hundred miles away and came immediately after calling you. We're awaiting two others."

Then he wasn't the only slayer called to that session, a weight lifted.

"I don't know how long we can wait." Excitement glinted in her eyes in the low light. "This is an opportunity we haven't had in hundreds of years."

His heart raced—he had already realized the significance. "What of Lilly?"

"If all goes well, you will be back this night."

"And if it doesn't?"

The excitement faded from her face. "Then she will be safer where she is. She's doing well with training?"

"Yes. Of course. I wouldn't have left otherwise. But I don't like this man she's seeing."

"Worldly attachments are difficult to give up. She will change as the luriel grows within her."

"It's not only that. There's something..." Mychel pressed his lips together while trying to find the right word. When his search came up empty, he shook his head. " _Something_ about him doesn't feel right. Daemons can hide from us in human form."

Shira's eyes narrowed slightly. "Although I would caution to stay aware, I doubt the daemons would continue to hang on. This realm weakens them. They failed to take her and she's training now and stronger. Given the swiftness of their taking out other awakened fledglings, I doubt they would continue after her in some sort of pursuit. Rather, they would attack swiftly."

"But you noticed the increased activity over the last cycle." Surely, she saw the possibility.

Shira nodded, her lips pursed but arms crossed. "It is a fine line between protecting and angering those not ready to accept their destiny, Mychel. You know as I do. Don't let your own feelings get in the way. For this, she is safer far from here."

He pressed his lips together to keep from arguing. Shira was right about the fine line, but he had every right to be cautious and suspicious.

"But it is better to be cautious than not." Her hand on his arm hardly reassured him of his past mistake. And yet Lilly had been fine after the last time she had been out with Darrac.

He didn't like the man, one way or another.

This would be so much easier if Lilly simply accepted the path of the celemae.

"If this works, we can ask the luriel."

There was that.

He followed the woman back to the large chamber and took a place next to her as two men wandered in—a tall, muscular man with the tawny skin of the Tundren descendants, like Lilly and Shira, and an average-sized man with only a slightly lighter complexion and an accusing expression that could make anyone feel like they had done something wrong. Trace and Rax, two more who specialized in slaying daemons, two of the best; and the latter using a curse for a nickname, a rebel in many ways.

Trace caught his eyes and gave a curt nod of acknowledgment, the hilts of two crossed short blades poking over his shoulders. Rax sorted out the room, his fingertips poking out from black gloves. The sheaths of knives were hidden beneath the jacket.

They took separate places around the circle. Mychel noted in amusement their amazed reactions when they sat.

"The time has come," Shira announced. "The bridge is available. Let us use it to contact the Shadow Realm. Focus on the luriel within and they will connect us to our brethren."

"You're sure about this?" Trace said in his deep bass.

"My luriel has assured me."

"That's all I need." He settled into a meditative pose like the rest. Shira's word was good enough for them all.

Mychel followed and easily contacted his luriel, which erupted in extreme joy, filling him with confidence and light. He delved more deeply into the bond. Attached and merging in their time together, they would one day be one. On that day, he would ascend.

In less time than he expected, the connection fully opened between his luriel and the realm of their origins.

He opened his eyes and looked upon a large orb that blotted out half their circle. Wave fronts of light passed over its surface, temporarily blurring the image of an ornate room gilded with sunlight and shining like infinite stars. Within the scene, three tall, beautiful figures in robes of pure light turned to them. Long, angular faces with large almond-shaped eyes peered back. Silvery white hair cascaded over shoulders and chests. Upon their brows were laced chains of shimmering silver and gold and bits of gemstones from which the light shining upon them burst into brilliance.

Mychel gazed in awe at the trio and realized why the ancient men of their world considered these beings gods. The luriel must have visited their realm long, long ago.

"Children," said a man or woman—Mychel couldn't discern from the delicacy of their features or the covering of their robes. The figure, who spoke in a strange tongue that he could only guess was translated by his luriel, took a step towards them. "Why do you open the bridge?"

"We seek your guidance, wise ones," Shira said.

They looked to each other in question.

"The bridge was accessible only this day."

A twitch at the corners of the leader's mouth hinted of bemusement. "Your cleverness is admirable, but the daemons have opened another bridge. The path between realms remains active. They will know what you have done."

He spoke with a calm but authoritative tone that impressed upon Mychel that these beings were older than he could imagine; luriel were essentially immortal.

Their words hung heavy on the air.

"We are aware of increased daemon activity," Shira said in their language

The man's head tipped almost imperceptibly, every movement smooth and controlled and without panic, like no war existed and he had all the time for peace. Or it could be the knowledge that the speech of the luriel only came with a nearly completed bond in preparation for Ascension and he was expressing his respect. Mychel could only admire her closeness to that perfect state, and it seemed to have the same effect on the trio across the bridge, since the severity of their expressions gentled.

"Are you not able to use our gifts?"

"Yes, my lord." Shira tipped her head.

The center figure frowned. "We can do nothing but advise that the beasts of Mirrel have been called from this realm."

"Beasts of Mirrel?" Shira frowned.

"By daemons, I assume," one of the others said. Given the more feminine appearance, Mychel assumed that one to be a woman, which would have astounded him if the air hadn't chilled around him, although it hadn't come from the room.

"What kinds of beasts?" Shira asked.

"None that the daemons call to serve will be less than deadly. Heed this warning."

"We will," Shira said.

"You must close the bridge," the leader said with a stern frown. "Seek us no more. The risks are too great."

"Please, my lords. I beg you to reconsider."

A gentle reprieve passed over their faces. "It is for your own good that the daemons not know you have made contact. If they are more active in the Gray Realm, any hint of our involvement would only bring our war there once more. Go now. You will join us soon enough."

Before Shira could object, they put their palms up and spread their hands apart. The sphere faded, erased by their motions, and the connection within him dimmed.

_'Once more...'_ The possible repercussions of that statement lingered in his mind.

After the room returned to normal, the circle of Fen looked up and aside at one another.

"You heard them. We have more than the daemons to worry about."

As if on a pre-arranged cue, a comm unit chimed from somewhere around the circle. Rax lifted his to his ear while the others fell eerily silent.

The faint squawk of a voice reached Mychel. He held his breath in the hopes of hearing, but by the sagging of the other slayer's jaw, it wasn't good.

"Tune into TEB," Rax said. Others pulled out their comm units and flicked them on to the Thrissen Emergency Broadcast. Several dozen small holographic projections came to life around the circle.

Mychel watched with Shira, who held hers for him to view.

Although the camera work was unsteady, he made out a pair of giant beasts tearing through a small town like foil. People fled and the nearest beast raised its head. A fan of bony spines splayed out behind its head with its snarl. A second later, the camera went dead. The scene continued from a different angle on a higher perch.

"What are they?" someone asked.

"Creatures from the Shadow Realm. The daemons wouldn't expose themselves like this unless they were desperate." Shira turned to Mychel, and he took the cue.

"The public doesn't acknowledge daemons. They consider them myths," he said. "We'd be locked away for insisting—"

She huffed and switched off her comm unit. "Science can't explain everything."

That he agreed with, but it didn't mean the world would. "They'll think they're some lab experiments run afoul."

Several mumbles of agreement accompanied nods.

Shira looked across to Trace and Rax and a few others who Mychel noticed for the first time. "Take them out."

She turned to him, stopping him in the midst of rising with the others. "Not you. Return to your charge. She'll need protecting." She grabbed his collar and yanked him close to whisper, "I have a feeling this is all about her."

So did he, a bad feeling...about Darrac.

# Chapter 24

**I** n the courtyard, Mychel paused to look up at the sun and shaded his eyes from the glaring brilliance of the afternoon. The day seemed perfectly calm.

But it was only a mirage. The crumbled walls and rubble made the point very clear—these beasts unleashed in their realm were far more destructive than anyone realized.

He let out a heavy sigh, wanting to do his duty in slaying the beasts but wanting to protect Lilly. She was still so naïve, but it was that innocence that needed protecting and nurturing.

Something else stirred in him at the thought of her. He knew that feeling, but it would only hold him back from his destiny.

He had a responsibility. That was all. And he would fulfill it.

But he also bore a responsibility to his realm, his world. The horrible creatures he saw didn't quietly take out celemae. Instead, they destroyed everything in their paths. All slayers would be needed to fight them.

Damned Shira. She wasn't his ruler. She was merely the latest to gain the most respect from her level of experience and nearness to Ascension.

He kicked at a tuft of grass in frustration—it wasn't Shira's fault. She was merely an advisor, and she was often right. He should be protecting Lilly first.

A heavy hand on his shoulder startled him. He whirled on a familiar face.

"Easy, Mychel." The rich baritone carried a hint of amusement. "I'm pretty sure that grass didn't do anything."

"No." Mychel looked down at the upturned tuft and gave a small huff of an almost-laugh that did little to lighten his mood.

"So, you have obligations to a fledgling," Trace said. "How's that going?"

"She's connecting with her luriel." He left off the part about her visions, which would spark a conversation that would only end up with them insisting he return immediately to protect her. What he wanted was to fight these creatures, something on which to let loose his frustrations, besides a tuft of grass.

"Good. Good." Trace glanced back at the doorway and leaned in close. "We're going to need all the help we can get," he said in a lower volume. "Whatever Shi has you doing, we need you more."

Mychel clamped his jaw on the satisfaction. He should return to Lilly and keep her safe, but the daemons didn't seem bent on destroying her immediately like they did other celemae. They were after something, and he was going to find out what that was. His first clue was these creatures. And by destroying them, he would be protecting her.

"I should return to Noren City."

"Good. We're headed that direction."

Mychel blinked. He couldn't have heard right. "But those creatures—"

"Are two hundred miles west of here."

West. Then...

A smile climbed up those poignant cheeks. "Between here and Noren City. Didn't you see the vid ID?"

"No."

A heavy hand patted his shoulder. "You can thank me after we put an end to these bloody daemon pets."

"Yeah. Sure." He knew better than to oppose Trace, the former Peacekeeper, and he did want to go rather than ride the train past. He let the big slayer push him towards the front entrance of the fortress grounds.

Rax caught up to join them and climbed over the rocky debris with the agility of a cat.

In the hopes that one of them might know, Mychel asked the question nagging in his head. "Have either of you heard the name Darrac before? I thought it might be a daemon."

After a moment to look at the other slayer in curiosity, Trace shook his head. "No. But I don't usually give them a chance to identify themselves." His grin bordered on arrogance, albeit much deserved from the deftness of his skills.

"We've lost a few recently," Mychel said.

The grin vanished and Trace watched the rocky ground before him. "There aren't enough of us around the world."

"All celemae should learn to slay daemons, to fight." Rax spoke with a finality that left no room for argument.

"Agreed," Trace said. "I've been saying that for years. No one listens. They think this is all about meditation and peace. Fighting might delay Ascension, but it allows more to reach it. War isn't won by letting the enemy destroy you."

Mychel stepped clear of the debris and looked out at the peaceful landscape. "Let's get this done. I have a fledgling to protect."

* * *

The scene from the lev-rail car stole his breath. Mychel leaned over Rax to see out the window, and what he saw left him in dismay. Half the town was in ruins with scattered fires. A large shadow blotted out the flames of one of them, but it wasn't an intact building. Rather, the creature continued up and up, larger than he expected.

Several Thrissen Republic hoverjets fired on the beasts to no effect.

"They can't kill the creatures like that," Rax said.

People crowded on their side of the car to see the damage to Gowran.

"I'm not so sure we can either," Mychel said. Daemons were one thing—easily killed with the power of the luriel behind the piercing of their manifestations in the Gray Realm. The luriel would be as easy to kill by daemons in that realm. But these creatures weren't daemons. None of them had seen anything like them. Maybe he would be better listening to Shira. If he died there, who would protect Lilly?

"We can do this," Trace said from over his shoulder as if sensing his hesitations. The big guy sat down again across the other aisle. "We'll be at the station soon."

Already the train slowed in preparation to stop at the platform. The other passengers took their seats, while another train flashed past on a nearby track, on its way to the next destination in line.

A large blot of darkness crashed through that track, only rocking them while the other train went sailing through the air off its tracks.

A collective gasp went up from the passengers in their car, including him, as he tried to make sense of what he had just seen. Tension thickened in the air, ready to explode into full-out panic.

"Time to work," Trace said, jumping to his feet. "Told ya, Mike. We need you on our team."

That could have been him. No one could have survived the seven-car mess now being ripped through by the creature like the carcass of some prey. And Lilly would have been on her own, unless another Pallora Fen convinced her to reach Enlightenment and follow the path to Ascension. By not obeying Shira, he still had a chance.

Their car thumped, the sudden magnetic deceleration slamming them all forward. Trace caught the upper handrail on the ceiling of the car. Mychel thanked the belts crossing his chest and lap for keeping him from flying into the tall seat ahead of him.

Lights flickered and the screams of passengers blended with the screech of the sudden application of brakes to stop them outside the station a distance from the wreckage. They were lucky not to fly off.

A slap on his shoulder came with the clicking of belts from his other side. "Let's do this," Trace said, already making his way to the front of the car through the confused passengers.

Mychel clicked out of his harness and, with Rax right behind him, squeezed through the narrow aisle of seats on either side of the small car. The eyes of the other passengers followed him and his companions to the front, where Trace opened the side door of the narrow car and looked down about ten feet to the ground, where it angled up to meet the station.

The beast roared only a few hundred feet away.

Two hoverjets opened fire, but it seemed no more pestered than if small insects buzzed around it.

Except it was getting annoyed, and the metal rail cars weren't satisfying it. Spikes went out from its body and crowned its head. Lips curled back in a feral snarl that exposed sharp teeth. The whip-like tail snapped a moment before the beast hunched and leapt.

The lowest hoverjet received a hard knock from claws the length of a man and wobbled in the air long enough for the creature to catch it on a second try.

"Let's go! Move it!" Trace's deep voice bellowed orders with the confidence and authority of a man used to giving them. Ex-Peacekeepers didn't lose their training.

Mychel followed the man down one of the support struts for the lev-rail and slid to the ground in a mostly fall, since he could barely get his arms around the massive support. Luckily, it angled out on each side instead of being a single thick beam straight down, which gave him a purchase to slow his descent.

Trace didn't miss a step but took off towards the creature while reaching over both shoulders for the twin blades he carried. Mychel followed with Rax, but kept his sword sheathed for easier running. Besides, the beast was too occupied with tearing apart the hoverjet and its occupants to care about their approach. The men in the open hold had jumped clear before it hit the ground, but the creature was faster and had made quick meals of them before tearing into the cabin for the pilot and co-pilot.

Mychel raced along the side of the hill, going wide around the footings of the lev-rail station, his feet pumping like they hadn't in some time, carried by adrenaline and a protective instinct towards his Pallora Fen family but mostly for Lilly.

As a devoted celemae, he couldn't act on the human desires growing in the short time since he'd met the feisty young woman, but he would keep her safe.

As he would defend the many people still alive.

The creature let out a roar-shriek that sent a shiver down his spine to his toes. He stumbled but was kept from falling when Rax grabbed his coat and lifted. That small aid in mid-stride was all he needed to keep his feet carrying after Trace.

"Thanks."

Rax said nothing but continued with him towards the creature now scratching at the downed hoverjet.

Mychel stopped out of range from the creature backing over them and caught his breath. The furry beast rose at least three times his height at the shoulder.

"That's no daemon," he muttered aside to Rax. Daemons were more focused in their attacks and didn't "eat" their prey. Rather, they absorbed living matter and its energy until only the non-biological accessories remained.

"What in Velok is that?" Rax asked.

Good question. If they survived, he would research it.

"Rax. Mychel."

They turned to Trace, who had returned to them.

"What about us?"

At the new voice, all twisted in the direction of the train, which was now creeping into the station. Two more figures caught up to them.

"Hiro. Kam." Trace acknowledged the two Fen from their sister group from across the continent. "This is going to take all we have.

"We were in a different car," the man on the left said. He wore his sword at his waist but reached over his shoulder for something that he lifted before him, a crossbow. A quick motion of his other hand loaded it.

The other man carried two hand guns already out of their holsters in his gloved hands. His weapons used the old style firing mechanism that launched a projectile at high speed, not the stun guns the Peacekeepers wore. One needed a special permit for such weapons, but these were old and ammunition was no longer made. Hiro made his own.

"I don't think you're going to get close enough to that thing for your swords, boys," Hiro said, a wry grin on his face.

Mychel glanced aside and caught the hint of exasperation on Rax's face. The knife-master was quick. He didn't need high-speed weapons, only his own skill. "How can bullets kill anything from the Shadow Realm? They're too fast to stay on the target long enough to deliver the force of the luriel."

"No time to argue," Trace said, cutting off the disagreement they'd heard before. "We need to do this together. It's going to take all of us to bring down one of these things. Our concentrated effort, gentlemen. Your full strength."

"Plan, sir?" Kam asked, checking his quiver attached beneath the crossbow.

"Don't get killed. And get your charged weapon in deep."

"Not much of a plan."

The creature smashed over the wreckage.

If they didn't get this done quickly, Mychel wouldn't be seeing Lilly for some time. He'd have to find an alternate mode of transport back to Noren City.

Lips on the beast curled back in a snarl and the crown behind its head stood up, but it didn't direct its attention to them...yet. Rather, it stomped its way to the station, from which the crowds poured.

"Oh, no, you don't." Hiro checked each gun, making them click with a motion that Mychel recognized from past demonstrations. He took off for the beast.

The rest of them followed at his heels.

"Split up!"

Like the others, Mychel followed Trace's command.

They separated and surrounded the beast, which was nearly on the station.

Mychel unsheathed his sword and rushed at the beast. A second later, the trained instinct to connect with his luriel brightened within him. It flowed through his hands and to the blade. With the power ready, he stabbed the point of his blade into one of the hind legs as thick as an elevator car.

The beast growled and whirled, the station forgotten for now. Before it turned completely and attacked the nearest of their group, Kam fired an arrow.

The beast bellowed fiercely and whirled. Kam ducked the swipe of a claw.

The two hoverjets still in the air backed off, keeping their distance from the beast after their colleagues had learned the hard way.

It gave the slayers room to maneuver without worrying about innocent lives.

They took turns distracting the beast, none of them getting in close to those front claws and teeth. However, they didn't make the progress they would have liked to bring it down.

What did it take to kill the thing?

Green blood dribbled from the wounds but, if anything, the creature became more aggressive rather than weaker.

Unlike them.

Mychel tired of the constant dodging and swinging. He wasn't the only one from the looks of it. They had to end this soon or they wouldn't last.

Not even the two shots Hiro had fired did anything more than to enrage the beast.

When Trace ended up at Mychel's side, Mychel took the opportunity to say, "Someone has to get in there close. I'm guessing it has some sort of heart or other vital organ."

"Agreed." Trace whirled one sword and disappeared from Mychel's side.

At a shot in the ribs from the crossbow, the creature turned its eyes on the nearest attacker—Mychel.

He barely had a chance to spin away from the slam of those long claws, which scraped on rock. His sword clanged on the rocky ground beneath him and he rolled up to his feet, breathing hard from the nonstop melee. He couldn't guess how much time had passed, but the hoverjet had backed off to a line of tanks that had rolled into position in the last few minutes along the lev-rail station house. They held their fire.

The creature's roar-shriek rent the air, making them cover their ears. In the next second, those long teeth snapped down at Kam.

In that same second, Trace jumped in from where he had hidden and stabbed both swords up into the exposed soft belly.

The creature howled, its target forgotten.

Green fluids ran down Trace's blades to his arms. He clenched his teeth, staying with the writhing beast. His hands could have been welded to the weapons.

The creature scratched at him, but the agile ex-soldier used the swords stuck into the flesh as anchors and shifted his body out of reach. In a moment that allowed it, he cut his blades along the underside of the belly.

The creature flopped onto its side, still howling its piercing wail, this time clearly of pain rather than threat.

Mychel jumped in and sliced the hairy throat, drowning the creature in its own putrid blood and ending the ear-shattering scream.

From the quiet of the fallen beast, Trace stood up and pulled his weapons free. His eyes went to Hiro. _"That_ is how it's done!"

The gun-master shrugged and spun the weapons on his fingers and slammed them into their holsters.

Show-off.

A second later, a second shriek pierced the air. Mychel had forgotten about the second.

He looked up at an identical beast attacking the tanks. The energy blasts from the cannons had no effect on it other than to anger it.

"All the hordes of Velok," Kam cursed and loaded his crossbow with a click of a mechanism that brought an arrow from the quiver locked beneath it.

Breathing hard, Trace wiped his hands on the fur of the fallen beast, leaving a green smear on his thick forearms. A sickly sour odor wafted into the air.

"How many are there?" Hiro asked.

"I saw two." Rax fingered a knife in one hand, a glint of anticipation in his eyes.

"That's all I saw," Mychel said. And it was more than enough.

"One down. One to go." Trace wiped each blade on the rough fur.

Mychel let out a sigh, his energy spent but his determination still strong. They couldn't rest yet. With innocent lives at stake and the Peacekeepers unable to stop these things, he and his fellow slayers were their only hope.

A spark of new hope lit inside, and he knew his luriel was listening. It renewed his vigor but dimmed in the process.

_Thank you._ Unfortunately, it left him that much farther from Ascension. Just as well, since he still had a purpose in training Lilly. The thought of a longer term on that world with a chance to steer her from Darrac forged a shield around his resolve, but he shuddered at the image of what might be happening in Noren City while he was away.

No time to ruminate on regrets.

They charged up the hill, until the loud crunching and scraping of metal warned of trouble. One of the tanks along the crest tumbled and slid down the steep embankment. Mychel and the other slayers scrambled sideways from its crushing roll to the bottom of the hill.

The creature turned on the soldiers firing at it, its tail lashing and crest flaring outward with the spikes on its back. It smashed one vehicle and swiped at the open Peacekeepers, who scattered; then it caught another whose screams ended in one bite that left only his boots to drop from the powerful jaws.

A tap on his shoulder startled Mychel, but Hiro motioned towards the station, where the others were heading. Mychel followed, all of them refraining from speaking. Getting caught on the steep side of a hill by the beast would only get them killed.

They made their way to a walking path and reached the empty platform—only the train that had brought them to the half-destroyed city sat on the rails, already ghosted.

"We can take this one." Trace's encouragement came when their fatigue was clearly getting the better of all of them.

"My luriel is weak," Hiro said, "but I'll do what I can."

Trace slapped him on the back with a nod of approval.

"Mine gave its power to strengthen me." Mychel looked around at the others, hoping they could use the same support.

"They understand," Rax said. "They know the stakes. The luriel within us are fully aware."

"Let's finish this." Hiro cocked his guns, which had materialized in his hands once more by his deftness.

When they stepped out together, the Peacekeeper soldiers on foot stepped away. Mychel felt their eyes searing him with curiosity and, if he imagined hard enough, a little admiration and respect. The pressure to defend them weighed upon him. He risked his life not only for Lilly but also for the people of his realm and for the futures of both realms.

The creature smashed at one of the tanks, but paused to watch them split up to surround it. It fanned out its crest and curled back its lips in a rumbling growl. Green-brown eyes shifted between them with a hint of wariness. This one didn't attack in blind rage but seemed to study them.

Mychel eased into his most advantageous position to the left of those massive jaws. In the millisecond those eyes flicked to him, he was inspired with a sense of awe; he could have sworn he saw an intelligence that contradicted its partner's vicious attack. Or perhaps it had noticed the way they had taken down the other. Could these things think?

A cold shiver passed down his spine with the realization of the potential threat of their power combined with a cunning for the hunt.

When the eyes flicked back on him, he saw in them the calculating of its mind trying to anticipate their moves.

They stopped in a circle thirty feet from it and waited. The creature turned around, wary of each of them.

"You're familiar with pack hunting, aren't you?" Mychel muttered, to calm himself and for the beast to hear his voice. Those eyes darted to him, teeth exposed and a low growl rumbling in its throat. The spikes around the neck lifted out and lowered slightly. The creature took a step towards him, nostril slits opening wide. The points on the short tusks could skewer him, but he stood his ground.

"Mike—"

He put up an empty palm to stop Hiro, who had lifted a gun.

The creature whipped its head around with the spikes splayed once more.

"It isn't attacking." He spoke in a steady voice, balanced for control and kindness. Before they killed it, he wanted to understand why it wasn't attacking.

He had learned long ago that people were too quick to react without thinking. Understanding through observation of the whole picture rather than one's tiny piece of it often advised decisions that led to long-term success, if not short-term success. The corporate world had trained him in its own fire.

The head whipped back to him and the spikes relaxed from their stiff positions. The creature took a step that covered half the distance between them. His insides gelled but the creature's hesitation to attack solidified his curiosity. Of course, it could be creeping closer to strike, but something in him wanted to believe it wasn't all evil.

"You're not like your friend," he muttered. "What do you want?"

The lips curled back in a partial snarl and it lowered its head. Nostrils opened wide to inhale his scent but blew out with a foul, rotting odor.

He became aware of the silence from the soldiers and his fellow slayers and held his breath but risked reaching a hand out to those jaws sliding towards him, the tusks closing on both sides.

The cold wetness of its nose pressed against his palm, and the energy of the beast from the Shadow Realm revealed in that instant its makeup.

Mychel blinked in realization. He wanted to tell the others, but a sudden loud noise was the last thing he wanted to make.

"You're not one of them." He spoke in a low, calm voice as much for the beast as the words were for those near him.

The spikes on the creature's body and behind its head flattened, but those keen eyes still watched him with a wary interest.

Up close, its rank breath choked him, and the teeth were larger and more threatening than he was comfortable revealing and resisted the urge to cough.

Through the silence, since the hoverjet had fallen back, the sound of metal scraping from somewhere behind the creature broke through.

The creature lifted its head and whirled, shoving him like a doll.

Mychel felt himself flying and hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from him and his head ringing. Darkness narrowed his vision, and he fought it to see his fellow slayers taking on the creature. He commanded his arm to lift but it refused to cooperate, succumbing to the concussion that took him out. The bang of a gunshot faded away with the world and the epiphany that the creature wasn't a daemon.

# Chapter 25

**T** he lights returned amid the chaos of noise and fist-sized, metallic insects hovering over him. Those insects focused into instruments.

"Mike!"

He tried to turn, but his head was locked into place. Several men and women in red-brown coveralls worked around him with the fastidiousness of those not inclined to let others interrupt. The warmth of the sun glared down amid the commotion, a soothing balm of restfulness and focus to match the light within.

Somewhere behind the faces of the emergency medical crew, Trace's face hovered near the helmeted head of a Peacekeeper.

"Mike."

"Did you get it?" Mychel spoke slowly, his voice uncooperative and having to be forced.

"Yeah. Yeah, we did." Trace sounded relieved.

Mychel felt his lips twitch on the words he wanted to say but couldn't. For once, he wasn't happy about killing something from the Shadow Realm.

A needle poked the back of his hand and he looked down with his eyes.

"Hold still please," a woman said, her brown hair tied back. She worked with another to secure a hand wrap around a needle in his vein.

"I'll see you later, Mike," Trace said and disappeared with the Peacekeeper.

Mychel let out a deep sigh while the medics worked, a heavy regret upon his heart. _Lilly..._ If he had followed Shira's suggestion, he would have been dead on the train taken out by the first creature. And yet, he'd been hurt anyway because he'd gotten too close to the second beast, which had thrown him like a ragdoll when it whirled on a perceived threat.

He could only hope that while he was gone, Lilly continued to practice what he had taught her.

Unfortunately, the town had been decimated by the creatures so terribly that the hospital would be overflowing. He wasn't a priority; the survivors of the attack deserved the attention more than he did. Lilly would be on her own for a while.

The Peacekeepers were another matter. Once the medics cleared, they took him on the gurney to a transport with the others, the medics giving them explicit orders for his care.

Trace, Rax, and Hiro sat among the faces in the transport. Trace held Mychel's sheathed sword between his legs, the tip of the scabbard on the floor of the transport and his forehead pressed against the hilt.

From where he lay on the floor at their feet, Mychel looked about at the faces hidden behind darkened visors. The grim expressions on the faces of his fellow slayers were like a giant punch to the gut, but one was missing.

"Kam?" he asked, suspecting the answer.

Hiro shook his head of thick black hair. Cheek muscles twitched with the hardening of his face.

Mychel let out a heavy sigh. It had been a risk. They had all accepted it as part of their vow to defend the realms.

"Peace be on him," he murmured.

A quiet echo came from the other slayers. The Peacekeepers said nothing.

His weight lightened with the descent of the transport.

They soon landed and he was carried between two Peacekeepers behind his fellow slayers. They were escorted into a building that rang with the confusion of men who didn't understand what was going on but tried to take charge. They finally stopped the echoing tromp of boots on tile and set him on the hard floor while the voices quieted.

"Mychel Viltis," a stern male voice said.

A shadow moved from around a tactical display and stepped into the light, where Mychel could make out a vaguely familiar figure from a different lifetime. He saw a tall man of average build with the chiseled features and perfect grooming of someone who radiated charisma and power. He hated those types; he'd been one in that other lifetime, before he felt the awakening of his luriel, which had brought Shira and Jaz to him.

"This is a treat."

Mychel blinked to clear the fuzz from his vision, while the voice prompted memories from more than a decade ago. The man squatted next to him, but the name refused to come forward and claim the identity of this man in his dark blue uniform with its black belt and black boots polished to a blinding sheen.

"Impressive work for a man who used to have servants doing all his dirty work."

Mychel cringed at the reminder of his past. It was enough to give him reason to continue his penance. Supporting the members of the Pallora Fen wasn't hardly enough to repent for his sins, but it was a start.

"Amos Renvil." The name slid from his tongue.

A smile creased the man's face. " _Commandant_ Amos Renvil."

Then he'd moved up the ranks since they last met under less than ideal circumstances.

"I never could make the charges stick." Amos rose like a giant over where Mychel lay on the gurney and eyed each of the other slayers around him. "So, tell me what you gentleman are playing at. What were those things? Where did they come from? And why did your relics bring them down while our pulse blasts did nothing?" He stepped back around several Peacekeepers in dark blue uniforms. "I want answers."

Trace stood with his feet perfect shoulder width apart and his hands at his sides. "Sir, we don't know what they were."

A sly grin crept up the smug commandant's face. "Soldier?"

" _Ex_ -Peacekeeper, sir. Captain Tracey Emmerkin. Former."

"So, tell me, Captain, what do you know about these monsters?"

"Excuse me," Rax said. "He already answered that. We don't know. We can only suspect where they came from but we've never seen such creatures before."

Impatience wiped away the grin. "So, tell me how you were able to defeat them."

"You wouldn't believe if we tried," Hiro said.

"Try me." After a huff of indignation, Amos turned his back to study the display, despite that it would show nothing more.

Mychel looked up and caught the eyes of his friends. Still crusted in the splatter of the green fluids of the creatures, Trace shrugged. "All right. It's called the Shadow Realm."

For several seconds, Amos stood with his back to them. Mychel didn't have to see his face to know his reaction. "They warned you, Commandant," he said, "You don't believe it."

"No." Amos turned around, a sneer on his face. "I don't believe you've turned religious. You, a disreputable—"

"Former," Mychel corrected.

The commandant's cool blue eyes narrowed on the naturally tan face. "A disreputable, loose cannon of a spoiled socialite."

Mychel let out a sigh. He couldn't change his past, nor, apparently, the opinion of those who had known him then. "I've changed since then. I'm not that man anymore. You should listen to my new friends."

The cold gaze of the commandant passed over each man. "And what lies will they tell?"

"No lies, sir. He speaks the truth. The Shadow Realm exists."

After a moment of studying Trace's neutral expression, Amos said, "If it's real, where is it?"

"It can't be seen," Mychel said. "It can only be felt by those connected to it."

Amos huffed in disgust and shook his head. "Religious nonsense. Get out of my sight."

"No lockup?"

"Don't tempt me! I'd be skinned alive if I locked up the 'heroes of Gowran'. Even my men want to put you on a pedestal." He spat the words as if trying to rid himself of a bad taste in his mouth.

Someone nearby cleared their throat.

"As long as you give me _reasonable_ answers, you'll be free to do whatever it is you've been doing with yourself, and I want to know that too. I would have your license for that sword revoked on grounds of insanity."

Mychel let out a sigh and lay back, ready for the routine. Amos didn't disappoint and grilled them about the incident. The slayers left out several details about luriel and daemons, sticking to scientific explanations about overlapping dimensions and portals between them that could sometimes be opened.

After a few hours, during which a pair of scientists sat in, they were excused. While Trace and Rax stayed to assist Mychel in their makeshift housing set up by emergency services, Hiro sought out those who had taken Kam's body for burial preparations.

Sometime after the sun set, Mychel sat up in their small tent, his stomach grumbling and his head and body aches lightened enough for him to sit up to eat.

Trace pushed the flap aside, giving Mychel a view of the transport vessel landing on the remains of a crushed building, the closest area to the makeshift camp for the cargo ship to land.

Mychel sipped the bland soup from the ration cup, watching the glare of lights from the ship highlight the points and peaks of rubble piles and tents.

"They're not coming back for us," Mychel assured him. "Amos wants nothing to do with 'fiction'. He'd rather lock us up, but that would look bad on his record, since we stopped those things from further killing." He hid the smirk behind the lip of the cup.

Trace dropped the flap, hiding the sights but not the shadows cast on the tent or the many voices of consternation and sorrow. The people hadn't been asked to be put in the middle of a war from another realm.

A war...That's how they would spin this, as a terrorist attack by those who opposed the Ahlias United Space Command or by one of the nations that opposed Thrissen Republic dominance.

"What were those things?" Rax asked.

Mychel exchanged a look with Trace, who shrugged his own confusion. "Shadow Realm."

"I knew that."

"We all did. But _what_ were they?" Trace looked from Rax to Mychel. "I've been doing this longer than you, Mike, and I've never seen anything like those, just the amorphous smoke or human forms that daemons like to take."

"I wish one of the sacred texts had survived the Reformation." Regrets hung in Rax's voice.

Mychel swallowed a lump of dehydrated meat and nodded his agreement. He noted a peculiar light in Rax's eyes by the glow through the tent fabric.

"The temples," the slayer said.

Trace huffed. "Good luck finding one."

Mychel hesitated on a memory, forcing it to materialize. "Porton."

Both looked at him in question.

"There's a temple where my latest charge works in downtown Porton. I'll check there and see if the clergy knows anything about these Shadow Realm creatures...And they're not daemons." He muttered the last part.

"What do you mean 'not daemons'?"

"When I touched it, the energy was...balanced. I had the impression of a certain respect for us and of the instinct to hunt and eat like any predator. It wasn't evil."

Trace gave him a suspicious look and slid the tent flap aside again to reveal the damage caused by the creatures. "Were you asleep through all of it?"

"No. He's onto something," Rax said. "Just because they obeyed daemons doesn't mean they were daemon spawn. But if that's true, then we must assume that not all creatures of the Shadow Realm are like the luriel and daemons."

Mychel met those cunning eyes. "Which is why the second one responded as it did. It didn't try to hurt me."

One black eyebrow lifted on Trace's face.

"Someone threatened it. It didn't try to hurt me...intentionally."

"You're missing the point. What does it mean that these creatures were even called from the Shadow Realm?"

Rax nodded agreement, a contemplative look on his face.

Trace released the tent flap and cut off the brightness of the cargo ship's landing lights.

"That's what we need to investigate," Mychel said. And the diviner was a good place to start. "I need a ride back to Porton."

"It could be a while, unless you think your old friend, the commandant, would be willing."

Although the smirk on Trace's face said he was joking, Mychel didn't dismiss the possibility.

# Chapter 26

**M** idday. Lilly snatched up her wallet from her jacket pocket and hurried from her cubicle, her mind switching to something else: _Darrac._

Anxieties twisted within her with questions of whether she would get to see him again. For the last few days, she had thought of him, a distraction from analyzing the data. Focusing on the work had been more difficult than usual, but she had managed. It kept her heart from sinking.

She hadn't heard from him since he left upset because of Mychel. She'd screwed up again, but she wanted the chance to make it up to him, if he would just give her a chance. He didn't answer his comm either.

And Mychel had disappeared, except he hadn't. He'd appeared on the news vids about an incident in Gowran. What was he doing hundreds of miles away instead of protecting her?

It had put him in the path of some rampaging monsters of the likes that their world had never seen. She could only guess that the men with him had been Pallora Fen, and then reason caught up that maybe the creatures were from the Shadow Realm. She could think of no other reason for the Peacekeepers to step back and let a group of men with ancient weapons step in. For that matter, what were the Pallora Fen doing? Had they brought the beasts? The reporters had hinted of that possibility, despite him having made the killing slash of the first. The second creature had not attacked Mychel, although it had sent him flying when it attacked another man.

What were those things?

She shuddered and tried to shake off the questions racing through her mind. Her job had helped to push them away, but now that the day had a meal break, they flooded her with worries. Would she see him again or had the Peacekeepers taken them away?

What of her celemae training?

"Miss Lowreth."

Lilly startled. In the next second, the voice struck recognition and she cringed in dismay.

Not him. Anyone but him.

She put on a false smile and turned around. "Mister Deringer." The Remote Site Sillavo Coordinator—the man in charge of all the data from the second base of Deiavo, and one of the managers she answered to—stopped a stride away. The thin line of a harsh frown seemed permanently chiseled into his face between the sagging skin of his cheeks. She couldn't remember ever seeing him smile, and she wasn't the only one. Even the men kept their distance from an aura of threat in that extra thick frame. She would have liked to have seen him take on the monsters. They would all have been better off without his huff and puff, the show he put on to feign some importance to the company while stepping on others, like her.

"Where's that XK-2 comparison?" He tapped his fingers on the wall around her circular workspace with all its holographic displays along the perimeter showing various station data feeds in nearly real-time, after accounting for the seconds it took for the data to reach them from the mid-sized of the three moons.

Not now! Couldn't he wait? _Just grin and bear it._ "I'll have it right after lunch."

"I need it by two. I have a meeting."

"You'll have it by then."

"All right. Good work."

"Thanks." She did a double take when he strode away without his usual bluster.

One of her coworkers in the adjoining hub adjusted his focus-tracking glasses through which he observed station cameras on the moon rover and leaned close. "Did Deringer just compliment you?"

"Uh, huh." Lilly stared in disbelief after the man making his way back to one of the outer offices.

"Weird."

"Uh, huh." Like the rest of the last cycle.

Lilly blinked away her surprise and gathered her jacket and shoulder bag, wary of a cruel trick. She had to get out of there before Deringer changed his mind. She whirled and strode out, trying not to look rushed. Deringer was the kind of man who would stop her just to get a reaction. He'd already achieved it with the compliment. She didn't intend to test him.

Now, if she could reach the elevator...

"By two!" His voice boomed across the room as the doors slid closed.

She winced, but in the next second, let out a breath of relief. She'd gotten clear without much delay. Some days, Deringer kept her for fifteen minutes with reminders and requests. Not even a complaint to HR had any effect. He took advantage of their break time.

But she'd made it out this time.

After several stops on the way down, she reached the ground level alone.

When the door opened, a man in a bright yellow hat rushed in and shoved her to the back wall. "Outta my way!" he shouted.

"Stop!" The two front desk security officers pointed their weapons. "Lilly! Get out!"

A firm grip yanked her back and an arm wrapped around her neck. Cold steel pressed against her temple, stealing her breath.

"Put the weapons down or she dies." The words burned in her ear.

Oh, Gods! What was going on?

_Kory. Help!_ She mouthed the words to the man in the light and dark blue uniform, but he gave only a slight move of his head. How had the man in the bright yellow hat gotten past them?

Wait...The bright yellow hat. The protestor from last cycle, right before her vacation, the same day Mychel had saved her from the first daemon. Her breath caught in her throat. He'd watched her exit the building and she'd covered her head with her jacket hood.

"I mean it." His heart pounded against her back. The muzzle of his weapon pressed against her temple with the cold threat of blowing her brains. "Put. The. Guns. Down. Now!"

Slowly, Kory and Jalan lowered their weapons. "Easy now. We don't want anyone hurt." Kory spoke in a calm voice that must have come easy for all the times he'd seemed so gentle-mannered in the boredom of the front desk.

"It's a little late for that now. Ain't it?" The man punched the elevator controls.

The doors slid shut.

Darrac! She'd never get the chance to apologize, never have a second chance with him; he hadn't answered her calls. Would he worry about her when this made the crime reports? Would he do anything if he knew?

Why her? Why now? Why did Deringer have to slow her down those few seconds? She could have avoided this mess or had a chance to be out of the elevator if he hadn't stopped her.

"Sorry, missy. You're my ticket up."

"Where?"

"To teach your bosses a lesson about putting people outta work. What floor are they on?"

"I don't know." Where the executive he sought was or that anyone had lost their jobs.

He jerked his grip around her neck. "Tell me!"

"I don't know!" She was going to die. She didn't want to die. She wanted Darrac or Mychel. She didn't want to die alone.

* * *

The man had taken the bait and run with his anger. After Darrac's influence, the protest leader had left and come back. The timing couldn't have been worse, though. He'd hoped the man's anger would close down the building for a day or two, giving Lilly free time that she could spend with him.

After the yellow-hatted man unexpectedly pulled out a gun and shot through the glass, he raced across the entry to the elevators, catching the guards unprepared but quick to pursue. Darrac had seen it all from the shadows, but he hadn't expected Lilly to appear when the elevator doors opened.

Taking her hostage was the last thing he had wanted. If the man killed her, all of his hard work would be for nothing. He'd have to find other ways to gain power over the ranks of daemons ready for change.

Darrac couldn't afford to lose her. Rather, he needed her alive for his new plan. Her incredible level of strength in the power of the luriel could sustain him. He needed Lilly to want him near, not to fear him and hide. He needed her to join him willingly.

He had to stop them without exposing himself.

If he moved now, the celemae would come for him.

Darrac glanced aside. He might have left Mychel injured in Gowran three days ago, but that didn't mean other Pallora Fen weren't near.

One of the faces made him look more closely.

No. He couldn't have recovered, much less returned so quickly.

The one person rushing into the building was Mychel, but one of the guards stopped him.

Now was Darrac's chance, while all eyes were on the scene of the crime. He stepped back, changing his form to shrink into the crowds, and faded to a shadow on the street.

Lilly's presence drew him to her, her luriel spirit like a beacon but her human spirit like a prism through which that light split into a vibrant spectrum. He followed it to where it stopped, but the intensity of the man's rage spiked. Something had gone wrong.

Fury swept through Darrac—the man he had set loose must be stopped.

He reached the elevator car, where the man stood over Lilly. Tears ran down her cheeks.

"Turn. Around!" The man trembled with pure rage, a hair trigger to acting irrationally. "Do it!"

Shaking in fear, she turned her back to him.

"On the floor. Now!"

She sniffed, her fear rising above the sense of...remorse? Loneliness? Darrac hesitated to catch the truth in a longing for him. She called to him from within, a message sent through the luriel. It shouldn't have been possible, but her desires rang through the energy, which resonated through him.

She was an extraordinary celemae. Her power intrigued him and made him glad he hadn't killed her, but neither could anyone else.

"Those damn guards cut the power," the man muttered. "I can't have trouble. Not now. So close." He focused on Lilly again. "Down!"

"Okay. Don't shoot. Please."

Darrac silently drifted down. With Lilly's back to him, he enveloped the red-hatted man. Anger seethed and twisted with fear inside him.

Unlike what he expected of such anger, the emotions were more of a guilty pleasure than truly enjoyable. In seconds, he absorbed the man, replenishing his strength.

The gun and rumpled clothing thumped to the floor behind Lilly, who sniffled.

She was safe, but the celemae would know he had fed and come for him. She already knew; her fear spiked and he wished he hadn't caused it. The temptation lured him closer but he couldn't give in. He wasn't strong enough to finish off the luriel within her, but something else stopped him, surprising him. He'd have to examine this new development further before deciding if this game was worth the risk.

# Chapter 27

**S** he felt it—the cold mist of death that had gripped her nightmares. Lilly twisted slowly and caught a glimpse of a shadow hovering behind her. Her attacker was nowhere to be found but had left a pile of clothes and the gun, like the men in the alley who had attacked her and Darrac.

The shadow shimmered out of existence. Red eyes faded last. The night the same shadow had appeared over her bed haunted her.

She stood alone in the quiet elevator, trembling with her arms around herself and too choked for tears.

A daemon had attacked her attacker. She was sure of it. But why hadn't it attacked her? Why had it let her go? If a daemon was after her, why didn't it finish the job? Where had it gone?

It didn't make sense from all that she had seen and from what Mychel had taught her.

She looked up at the corner, where the camera in its black orb was tucked away. Had security seen it? What could they tell her?

Why did she need anyone to tell her? She already knew a daemon had attacked the man holding her at gunpoint. Mychel would know more than the guards, who would probably think she was crazy. She had to talk to him. Her best chance for understanding lay with him.

If she ever got out of there.

If he ever returned.

Loneliness threatened to slide into her heart where the cold of the daemon's presence faded.

Slowly, she stood. "Hello! Can someone here me? I'm in the elevator!"

No response, and they must have heard her and seen her.

"Hurry up!" She had to get out of there, away from the nightmare.

Lilly tried to pry her fingers into the seam between the doors, but they fit together too tightly. Damn! She pounded on the door. "Someone! Anyone! Let me out!" She pressed the "1" button, but it wouldn't light up.

The elevator lurched, throwing her off balance into the side. Someone must have taken control.

After a second in which she thought she might be all right again, it dropped. Numbers counted down on the display beside the door. Finally! She moved at a normal speed.

Lilly counted down the floors to the first.

When the elevator stopped, the doors opened.

"Hands in the air!" Kory hesitated and lowered his gun. "Lilly?" He leaned forward and searched the car with a frown.

"Lilly!"

"Mychel?" She ran from the elevator to throw her arms around him. "Mychel. Where were you?"

"I was called away, but I thought you'd be all right. I'm sorry I left. I felt..." He lowered his voice and leaned close to her ear. "A daemon."

"You did," she said into his coat. The scent of him wove thickly about her with the comforting presence of the luriel inside him chasing away the darkness of the daemon. She hadn't realized how much she missed him and the sense of security, especially after seeing the recordings of his skills against the monsters. She'd never seen him in action but for that first time and hadn't stayed to watch then.

"What happened?" Kory knelt on one knee to examine the pile of clothes.

"We'll talk about it later," Mychel muttered.

Lilly lifted her head and turned to Kory. "You wouldn't believe me." She might not be a drinker, especially after her first introduction to Mychel, but she needed a drink after that, and that would be a perfect chance to hear Mychel's story.

"Something attacked him." Jalan stopped nearby, holstering her gun. "Saw it on the camera. Something saved you. I don't know—some sort of dark cloud—but it just..." She shuddered. "It disintegrated him."

Mychel's eyebrows lifted. He had his confirmation.

"The Peacekeepers are going to be all over this," Kory said.

"Some new terrorist weapon?" Jalan asked.

Kory shrugged and holstered his gun, a sympathetic smile on his face for Lilly. "It didna't harm Lilly...You're a lucky lady."

"Yeah. Lucky me." She eyed the clothes with a shiver. Was she lucky? Or did this daemon have other plans for her? What was this about? She'd be damned if she would sit by and let it attack again. Whatever Mychel could offer for protection, she wanted to learn.

"Now you see what I mean?" Mychel whispered.

"You shouldn't have left." The words came out with a hint of bitterness.

He grimaced and turned her from the scene towards the doors.

"Why didn't it attack me?"

He shrugged.

"Let's not question it. Whatever it was saved you," Kory said.

Realizing that the others overheard, she flashed him a grateful smile with what she could muster in her agitation.

"I think you should take the rest of the day off," he said.

Jalan joined them while a trio of Peacekeepers marched their way.

"After we get a statement," Jalan said, her eyes on the trio clomping over the tiled floor in the echo-chamber of the foyer. "Then you can go home. I'll be sure your supervisor knows."

Yeah. That. Deringer would be blowing smoke. But she knew a couple of analysts with the capabilities to finish his report.

"All right."

The two security guards exchanged words with the Peacekeepers, until Jalan motioned Lilly away from Mychel with one of the Peacekeepers. The other two joined Kory at the front desk.

At the upper balcony overlooking the foyer, a crowd pressed in to see what the commotion was. Warmth rose up from under her collar and Lilly looked away, wishing she could hide.

"This way." The woman in blue pointed her towards one of the rooms down a short hall with Jalan.

"Lilly?"

Mychel. She wished now that he wouldn't leave her.

"I'm sorry, sir. You'll have to wait here." The woman put a hand up to stop him.

Mychel's face hardened into stiff lines. He didn't want to let her go, and she didn't want to leave him behind. The guards would be no match if the daemon returned, and he knew it—it was etched into his face.

But the daemon had let her go. Obviously it hadn't intended to harm her.

Why?

With no explanation, she returned her attention to Jalan and the Peacekeeper.

In the quiet of the lonely room, she spoke into a recorder of what had happened, the time that seemed to stand still but sounded like it took only a few seconds.

"That's it?"

"There's not much to tell. I'm sure it's the same you'll see on the video. The black cloud was all I saw." And two red eyes, but she wouldn't tell them.

"Nothing more?"

"No."

The Peacekeeper pressed her lips together in a moment of contemplation that wiped away a second later. "Then I guess we're done."

"Can I go?"

Jalan checked aside with the blue-uniformed Peacekeeper, who had lifted her visor to expose a hint of confusion. "Go," the security officer said. "We'll contact you if we have further questions. I'll see you tomorrow, Lilly."

"Thanks." She hurried for the door.

"Be careful?"

Her hand on the controls to open the door, she hesitated. "Don't worry about me." She left the room.

She reached the lobby, relieved when Mychel rushed up, his longcoat sweeping out behind him. "Ready to go?"

"Where?"

"Home." He glanced aside at the two Peacekeepers with Kory nearby, all of them quiet while watching a replay of the events.

She shuddered and stood close to Mychel, curious but not wanting to remember the horror fresh in her mind. "Where were you?" she asked in a hushed voice that echoed despite her efforts.

He took her arm and led her towards the door. "We have a lot to discuss."

Yes, they did, starting with those creatures he had helped take down in Gowran.

They stepped out into the sunny day that helped warm the chill away but hinted of the coming of autumn with a touch of crispness.

A crowd had gathered outside. People stared, the buzz of their questions hovering like a swarm of bees, like the cameras overhead. This was the last thing she wanted.

Mychel escorted her past the staring faces. What a way to gain attention, exactly when she didn't want it. She wanted to be left alone.

"Lilly!"

The sound of the voice yanked her to a stop. It pulled her like a magnet. Darrac!

He squeezed through the crowds towards her.

"Darrac!" She stepped to the line of the crowd held back by Peacekeepers. "Let him through."

Darrac excused himself from the crowd through the opening between Peacekeepers and rushed to embrace her. If she longed for his embrace before, it was nothing compared to now. She dug herself into his arms and buried her face in his chest. Her eyes burned with unleashed tears. "I thought...I was gonna die." She sobbed into his shirt, unable and unwilling to stop, all the fears releasing—he had been the catalyst on her emotions. The world disappeared when he held her. "I thought I lost you, that you had left me."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I'm sorry I left." His voice softened on the last and his arms tightened around her in reassurance, which squeezed out a stream of tears from her fright of his abandoning her and the loneliness and the attack.

_You're here now. That's all that matters._ She wanted to tell him how much that meant, but everything choked up inside her. Words couldn't express how glad she was to see him.

"Let's get you home." His soft voice coaxed her away. Home. Where she could be alone, or at least away from the crowds. Alone with Darrac, after three days of fretting that she would never see him again. This proved that he was special.

"I had other matters to attend. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you." His warm breath blew through her hair and smoothed the troubles from her mind.

"I was so worried after you left upset. I thought...I thought you'd never come back."

"I didn't mean to hurt you." His gentle touch along her back with his words quieted the despair. "I just...things came up unexpectedly."

Suspicions sparked in her mind that gave her hope. Was it possible... It could be coincidence, but something inside her questioned it. Could Darrac have been in Gowran as a Peacekeeper?

"Lilly."

Mychel gave Darrac a disapproving frown. Not again. Couldn't they get along?

"We need to talk."

"Later."

Mychel eyed Darrac and gave a nod. "All right. Take care of her."

That was it? No argument? No preaching?

"Thanks, Mychel."

He said nothing, but the look on his face was one of caution and sympathy that inspired a new respect within her.

Darrac led her to a waiting taxi parked at the curb and opened the door. After she sat down, he slid in next to her and gave the driver the information.

She laid her head on him and held his other hand. "Thanks for coming."

"You're welcome."

She smiled and closed her eyes, but couldn't erase the memory of what had happened. A daemon had saved her. Daemons couldn't be all bad. Could they? Maybe it was her imagination.

"Care to talk about it?" he asked.

"I don't think you'd believe me. I hardly believe what I saw."

"Try me."

She caught her breath. If this was his way of opening up, maybe her prospects with him had just improved.

After some time of watching the skyline pass and debating how much to share with him, she finally said, "No. It's all...strange. I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about it."

"When you're ready, I'm here."

That's all she needed.

# Chapter 28

**M** ychel watched the taxi lift away and disappear beyond the skyscrapers of downtown Porton. From what he'd overheard, Darrac had been away as he had, yet Lilly had taken him back without question.

But she'd been happy to see him too, and he'd arrived first. That would not soon be forgotten.

However, she was attracted to Darrac and needed someone to comfort her after the fright she had just endured. That stirred up uneasy feelings within him. That Darrac had been away so long seemed odd, like he was using Lilly, playing with her emotions. Mychel despised him even more, and it was something a daemon might do, if they let their victims live.

A daemon who might have released those beasts on their realm and watched him.

Mychel needed to know who this Darrac was and if he was sincere in his affections for Lilly. And that answer might be closer than he expected.

Training her would have to wait until she was ready. Until then, the temple called with its secrets and potential answers.

He pushed through the crowds slowly dispersing, ignoring the stares to make his way to the old temple down the street.

The dark lacquer of the tall doors reminded him of the old castle and could very well have been from the same age. However, although the temple bore an essence of age, it had been tended well. He had no doubts that the clerics had devoted their lives to maintaining the building with the same devotion they did of their faith. And in that, they must have won a petition to preserve it as a historical landmark.

He pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside with a creak that echoed a deep bass.

A sense of home passed through him, alighting with the luriel spirit. It knew this place, or felt a connection, like a sense of the bridge lingered. At one time, the luriel had been there and left a trace of their Shadow Realm fingerprints.

When the door remained ajar behind him, he pushed it shut to a dull thud that echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber.

His eyes took in the ancient stonework of the walls meeting the renovations of the centuries since. Benches arched in concentric circles reminiscent of the waves on a still pond when the surface is disturbed. He made his way up the center aisle to the alter, where plaques and standards bearing symbols that sparked a sense of familiarity hung on the walls. The temple reminded him of another historical site used by the Pallora Fen, where he had learned to fight with masters of the old ways.

High above, painted on the ceiling and restored to an awe-inspiring clarity, scenes depicted beautiful haloed beings standing above ugly, brutish creatures. The beings of light pressed the dark creatures into subservience while lifting their hands to a golden city painted directly over the alter.

The home of the Gods that men had worshiped for protection, for abundant harvests, healing, and a myriad of all manner of favors.

Mychel couldn't help but smile at that. The luriel were no more grantors of favors than the daemons. The gift of their powers in the celemae, however, could be used to benefit others.

But the world had changed and now they hid from society to avoid persecution.

The faint scrape of a door cracked the silence from somewhere to his right. He paused in his slow meander to the alter and turned to study the columns and balcony on his right, and the movement in the shadows beneath.

A gray-haired man whose simple earthy robes hung loose on his gaunt frame emerged from the shadows.

"May I help you?" The hesitation in the man's voice hinted of wariness.

"Uh, yeah. Maybe. I'm doing some historical research." Mychel looked up again at the simple paintings looking nothing like what he had seen of the beautiful luriel when they had bridged the realms.

"The gods?" he asked, pointing up at the ceiling.

The old man looked up with a smile and stepped towards him. "Yes. The gods in their holy city, where no darkness shall fall, a city of pure light."

Mychel waited, hoping by the wistful glow on the man's face that he was ready to go into details.

The priest's eyes dropped to Mychel's hip. "What is a man of our day doing with a sword?"

Mychel pulled the longcoat closed, hiding the sword. "Fighting monsters."

Eyes narrowed on that gaunt face.

"You didn't see the vids of Gowran?" In some ways, he would be relieved not to have someone stare at him or point and whisper because of the spectacle they had seen in the news vids. But part of him was disappointed not to be known as a hero.

A gray eyebrow lifted and the head slid side to side. "I will allow no violence on these hallowed grounds."

"So you know what happened?"

"Yes, but I've not seen the vids of the incident. I have been praying for the families."

"Someone had to stop them, which is why I carry the sword."

"To fight monsters," the priest said in a skeptical tone, "or to harm others?"

"You think you could stop those things? They crushed half the town into dust." Mychel huffed out the rising frustration from the priest's hard edge. "I'm not here to argue. I'm on your side, whether you believe me or not. I came about a name. I thought it might be in your holy book."

The priest sidled away from him towards the alter and Mychel followed, glad to be getting somewhere.

"The Falamoer cannot be exposed to air or it would disintegrate," the old mans said. "It is now only a relic of the ancient past."

Now the man made excuses to avoid helping him. They stopped at a stand bearing a block of clear material. Inside lay a book opened to an illuminated page of text in a language he didn't recognize. A weak aura of power surrounded the book. It had been touched by the energy of the Shadow Realm.

"Alas, the last of our history."

"What about copies?" The original confirmed that the luriel had some direct influence on this particular denomination, but he wanted answers. All temples would have a reference copy on hand from which to base their ceremonies and sermons.

At that, the priest stepped around behind the alter and pulled out a leather-bound volume with ribbons throughout its pages. "That, we have."

Mychel breathed more easily, releasing the frustrations tightening in his chest. "Can you look up a name?"

The priest opened the pages and put his hands together and bowed before the book. "Respect the sacred writings of Fal Oroneth passed to the prophet Alethea."

This wasn't the first time he'd heard of this particular honoring of Alethea. Of all the luck that this temple belonged to them, the strictest to follow the luriel teachings. It explained why he felt at home upon entering the sanctuary.

However, he couldn't let his guard down. This was a test. For some reason, the priest distrusted him, but he would show him that he didn't mean any harm. Mychel put his hands together and bowed. By the smile on the old man's face, he had done the right thing.

"Tell me this name you seek."

"Darrac."

The diviner's hand paused on the book.

Mychel waited. "You know the name." Encouraged, he stepped closer and looked from the book to the priest. "Tell me."

"People have forgotten the history. If a child is named for a daemon, how are they to know?"

A daemon. He was right. He must have heard it somewhere. The question remained of whether this Darrac was human or the daemon.

"You're sure?" He didn't want to upset Lilly, but if this man was a known daemon, Mychel had to get her away from him.

The priest flipped through pages, his demeanor cautious while he scanned a few pages and flipped several. After a short time, he pointed to a section of text.

Mychel stepped forward and read:

"...And he smashed a claw like a bridge over a moat, crushing Angar and Morgan and their horses into dust. In his ruthlessness, Darrac roared triumphant, and the armies of Wehr turned and fled. All perished in the daemon's advance, and the magi were victorious."

He skimmed the page, but saw no other reference on that page of a Darrac. "Is this a vision or history?"

"It was long ago, but Alethea and those who came after her wrote their visions of a future era, like our time."

"Visions of the future?" Was it possible? Is that what Lilly was seeing?

The priest's lip twitched, but he only gave a small nod and flipped pages in the book for several minutes, until he came across another passage and pressed his finger upon it. "The means to defeat the daemons, but none have been able to achieve it."

Mychel read, and his blood ran cold. The words on the page haunted his mind and the brightness of the luriel pulsed within him. He looked to the priest for confirmation. "Both must die and be reborn? But they are immortal."

"Apparently not...but you haven't read all of it. This is the heart of our faith, the belief that a savior can defeat them."

Mychel returned to the book, reading several lines until one struck him. "I see why it can't be achieved."

"Not _can't_. Rather, _has not yet been_. It is the foundation of our faith, monster-slayer."

Mychel pressed his lips together on the internal debate, and finally said, "Daemon slayer. The monsters were servants of the daemons of Fal Oroneth, the Shadow Realm."

The old man clasped his hands at his waist with the calm of someone unsurprised, or skeptical. "You know more than you pretend, yet you know so little. Why did you attack the woman?"

"The woman?" Ants could have crawled up his spine for the discomfort that overcame him.

"A cycle ago, a young woman said a man with a sword attacked her."

He remembered that day that he had pretended to lose her in the crowd while the strength of her luriel spirit had shone like a beacon, despite any physical barrier between them.

"Protecting, not attacking. A daemon would have taken her if I had not been there. Unfortunately, my actions scared her." He ducked his eyes and rubbed away the crawling feeling at the back of his neck. "I appreciate the lesson, Diviner."

"And what of the Darrac you seek?"

Mychel met the priest's eyes. "I hope he's human."

He pulled out his comm unit and started for the door of the temple. After a quick entry of Lilly's code, he waited for her to answer. After a few seconds and half the sanctuary crossed, it clicked off. Mychel looked at the handheld unit and the return code indicating her unit had cut off his connection. Was it her or Darrac?

If she was in trouble, he would never forgive himself. He picked up a jog to the door and hurried to slip out into the crowds.

She'd mentioned wanting to go back to her apartment for some rest after the gunman and the daemon, which hadn't attacked her. That didn't mean she was safe.

He had a lev-rail to Noren City to catch.

# Chapter 29

**M** ychel could wait.

Lilly tucked the comm unit back inside her jacket pocket and closed her eyes. The subtle shifts in motion from the cab pressed her against the warmth of Darrac.

She breathed easier and focused on the spirit of the luriel within her as a source of comfort. In the last three days, it had been all she could do to not fret about Darrac, and then about Mychel and whether he would train her again or if she would fall to a daemon. She didn't know any other Pallora Fen, although she vaguely remembered a gentle, confident woman, or that was the impression in her mind from her drunken stupor.

The same stupor that had shed her inhibitions to dance with Darrac.

Once again, she had to clear her head of thoughts and feelings. Darrac was back. Mychel was back. She should return to preparing for Enlightenment.

The soft movement of Darrac's hand along her arm soothed away her troubles but also inspired a focus on him rather than the luriel. His touch made her feel alive. She wanted more of him in her life. At that thought, she realized that she hardly knew anything about him. The few times they had spent together, she had fallen asleep. At least at midday, she shouldn't fall asleep again.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, noticing the ache in her gut that she had intended to fill with a meal before the ordeal in the elevator.

"You haven't had lunch. That's why you were leaving the building." The realization rang clear in his voice.

Lilly sat up, noticing the shrinking skyscrapers of Porton out the back window.

"I was hoping to catch you for lunch," he said. "Then all the commotion happened."

"We'll eat in. I'll order. What do you like?" She pulled out her comm unit.

"Rikshoren."

"Chiro's it is." She made the call to the eatery close to her apartment building and placed the order seconds before the taxi landed on the rooftop.

She paid the driver and led Darrac by the hand, determined not to let go. A memory of the daemon from her ordeal flashed before her. She shuddered and shook it away.

"Are you all right?" The sympathy in his voice could not break the spell.

"No," she said in the elevator ride to her floor. Images flicked through her mind. She looked up to Darrac in an effort to chase them off with his handsome face, but the red eyes haunted her. She dropped her head and fell into him, fighting the fear in a battle that left her quivering.

Not even the strong arms around her could keep her from shaking.

"I'm so glad you're back."

The security of his arms tightened around her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. In his voice, she heard the regret for leaving and sank into him with a sigh.

"It's not your fault. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

The doors opened on her floor and they walked quietly to her door. Inside, they snuggled together on the sofa.

After a long silence, he asked, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

She hesitated while staring into an unreadable face and weighing the need to talk to someone with the potential consequence of losing him.

"Um...A gunman threatened me in the elevator when I reached the lobby. I was so scared; I would have done anything he told me just so he wouldn't kill me. And then...I don't know. He just vanished. I felt like ice and turned around, and I saw..." Lilly closed her mouth too late. She really wanted Darrac to sympathize and not tease her.

"Saw what?" he asked in a tone of voice that invited her to finish.

"You'll think I'm crazy." She picked at a nearly invisible loose thread at the seam of her shirt.

"Why would I think that?" His lips twitched into a smile that ganged up with the caress smoothing her hair to coax the words from her.

She wanted him to know and to accept her, and before she could stop herself, she said, "I saw a shadow and two red eyes. It faded before I could be sure, but the gunman was gone and his clothes were left on the elevator floor."

Darrac stared through her, his gaze like a laser targeting some thought working in his mind. After some time, those deep, intriguing eyes focused on her. "What do you think it was?"

Not this. The heat of embarrassment made her fidget on the sofa. "I don't know. It's just...It reminded me of the night I woke up to a fright in my apartment."

Eyebrows lifted and he sat up. "You mentioned that."

"It was right before we met at the club. It was the reason I was there—to forget."

The sparkle in his eyes put her at ease. "Then I should be glad for these terrors."

"What?" How twisted was he?

He reached for her hand and took it in his. "We wouldn't have met at the club."

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, you're right." She smiled and enjoyed the warmth of his fingers locking with hers, and she breathed easier. "Then you don't think I'm crazy about the elevator?"

"No. It's interesting that you saw a shadow and red eyes."

"I saw something like it in my room."

Maybe it was the lighting or the ache in her stomach distracting her; something changed on his countenance and she wasn't sure what it meant.

"I...saw a horrible face with the red eyes over my bed."

"What do you think it was?"

Lilly tightened her fingers twined with his and licked her lips. "I was afraid you'd ask. I don't know how else to explain it, but from what I've researched, I think these shadows might have been daemons. I know religion is an eccentricity, but maybe there's something to them. I don't know what else these might have been, and the gunman disappeared without explanation, leaving clothes and weapon and stuff behind. What else could do that?"

She searched his face for a sign that he understood and at least would consider the possibility, or maybe he had a different explanation, something less sinister.

"I don't know." Darrac leaned close and reached for her cheek. "I only know that you're safe and you're special. Whatever it was didn't harm you."

"It seemed to be...protecting me, if that's possible."

"Anything is possible." He smiled that charming smile, and the confusion and worries in her heart melted. His caress swept away her anxieties.

Anything was possible—he believed her—except... "Are you possible?"

Darrac hesitated, his charming smile fading. "Why would you say that?"

"It seems to be my misfortune that when things are going well, they fall apart. I need to know where this is going. I feel a connection, Darrac, but I've had my trust shattered when I was deeply in love. I'm afraid. I'm afraid that you're too good to be real, that you'll leave me like Rian did, and I won't even know what I did wrong." In a quiet voice, she added, "Like when you left a few days ago and I didn't know if I would see you again."

Those eyes dropped and his lips pressed together. It only happened for a second, but it was long enough for the worries to rise in a tidal wave that threatened to overcome her in grief, until he refocused on her and his hand steadied its hold on her cheek. "I don't know what will happen. It's only been a cycle. But, I know what I said is what I feel—you're special. I, too, feel a connection. What it leads to is part of the mystery. I don't worry about what may or may not happen. I can only control my actions and my feelings, and I know that I will do all I can to be with you."

Emotions welled up into tears threatening to spill. What he said could have been avoidance or something else, something she desperately wanted to believe. "What are you saying?"

He slid close, holding her in place with the hand cradling her jaw. An aura of power and strength radiated from him, subduing her to the deep desires inside. She needed to feel special, to feel needed in someone's life, in his; and she wanted to give in to the promise of a deeper connection with him and the strength that could protect her from the thing haunting her.

He hovered close and her heart raced in anticipation.

As he leaned down, she tilted her face up to him to welcome the touch of his lips.

The chime of the door froze time.

The delivery person could wait. _Don't hesitate, Darrac._

He drew back. "I suppose that's the food."

Lilly caught her breath in disappointment. When it seemed that he wasn't moving, she sighed and resigned herself to the task of taking the food. She'd already provided a credit account when she ordered.

When the door slid aside, she stared while her thoughts caught up to her mouth. "Mychel," she finally said.

"Lunch?" He held up a large carton from which wafted delicious smells that teased her hunger.

She took the carton with rising suspicions. Mychel didn't seem like the kind to deliver meals.

"I met the kid at the lobby door. The doorman recognized me and let me in. I told the kid I'd take the delivery. To his credit, he argued against it, but the doorman vouched for me." He shrugged indifferently.

She stood with the carton, stumbling over what to say to this, until a presence came up behind her and drew Mychel's blue eyes up. The main office was going to hear about this letting people in without permission.

"I should have known it wasn't for me," Mychel said.

She twisted around to see Darrac with a cool expression on his face, not the jealousy she had feared.

"Can I borrow her for a moment?" Mychel said.

Lilly swallowed. The tension between the two pressed in on her, despite the calm of Darrac's face. She didn't want a fight.

"This won't take long," she assured Darrac.

The corner of his lips twitched into a smile. "As long as I don't eat alone."

Air finally returned to her with the easing of tension. "You won't. I'll be back in a minute."

She stepped out and closed the door. Now for Mychel and the complexities of this tangle.

"We need to talk," he said.

"So talk."

"Not here." He looked both ways and paused. Lilly followed his gaze, and a door thumped softly in the quiet. The old crone again. That woman needed a life like they all needed air.

"Agreed." Inside her apartment wasn't an option, however. She didn't want Darrac to overhear.

Instead, she took him to the roof, where they could be alone from eager ears.

Lilly looked out over Noren City and the towers of Porton in the distance. A brisk wind hinting of fall's approach brushed over her bare arms with its tendrils of chill.

"Where were you?" she asked. "You left and Darrac left and now you're both back at the same time..."

"Darrac left?"

"I was alone for three days. I thought no one cared, until I saw the report on Gowran and recognized you. It was on every network. I thought you were injured."

"I was." The quiet of his voice made her aware of her concern for him.

Before it went any further, she asked, "What were those things?"

"Beasts from the Shadow Realm. I'm not sure what they're called."

She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself for warmth and security. "I didn't know there were other creatures."

"I didn't know they were that big."

After a moment of remembering the video, she said, "Why did the one let you touch it?"

He shrugged and shook his head. "You know as much as I do. I can only tell you that it wasn't dark like a daemon. It was almost...respectful."

_Not a daemon..._ What kinds of creatures were they? She supposed they would never find out now.

"How did they get here?"

"A bridge."

"A what?"

"A link between realms. That's why I was called away—to the focus of Shadow Realm power. We connected to the luriel. I saw them, Lilly!" His demeanor transformed from sullen and uncertain to excited like a boy who had jumped the Pindar Crevice. His face glowed with a level of awe that she had never seen on anyone, enrapturing her attention. "They're...beautiful, everything you expect. I can't even describe the wonder."

"I thought that was impossible."

"Apparently not."

She looked down at herself, turning her hands and arms over and back. "And they're inside us?"

"Not like you think. We have a part of them transforming us. These were ancient beings, glowing in their purity."

"What were they like?"

"Wise, but..." His brows furrowed. "It's clear they consider us like children, but we are compared to them. I anticipate with joy the day I ascend to join them as an equal."

Darrac...Ascension...

"That's great, but I'm not ready." Not now that everything seemed so perfect in her life again.

"I think..." His pause could have been the shriek of nails on metal.

"Yes?" she asked impatiently.

Mychel's face relaxed and he smiled. "I think we should get you better trained."

"Yes. I'd...I'd like that." She wanted more of the feeling of peace that she had found in their last session. And she wouldn't have to cower from daemons. "I'll be ready after work tomorrow."

"Now, Lilly. This can't wait. You were nearly daemon fodder today. You need to learn how to deflect a daemon's feeding."

_What about Darrac?_ She bit her lip on the objection, feeling he was right. The connection that came from his presence touched something inside her, the luriel she guessed. The power inside him called to what budded within her.

Although it stabbed her heart, Darrac was going to have to wait.

She didn't want to lose him, but she had to protect herself if she wanted to spend her life with him.

"If he really cares, he'll understand."

She stared at Mychel, wondering if he could read her mind.

"It's written all over your face."

Then she didn't have to voice her objections. And he was right—this would be a challenge to see if Darrac really cared for her, but if he objected, the truth would break her heart.

They returned to her apartment, where Darrac must have been waiting, because he met her at the door the second she stepped in.

His eyes darted briefly to Mychel.

"You know what I said about daemons?" She satisfied a scratch on the back of her head, afraid to look up and see something on his face that she didn't want to see.

"Yes."

Uh, oh. A hint of wariness dragged out the word.

"Um...Mychel said he'd teach me how to defend myself."

Darrac blinked and broke out with a smile. "That's great."

"It is? I mean, you're all right with that?"

"Positive. Then I don't have to worry about losing you."

A pleasant warmth rose to her cheeks, which made her think of that almost-kiss, and that made her blush all the hotter.

"Thank you, Mychel, for your dedication to keeping her safe."

At the outstretched hand, Mychel hesitated but then placed his in Darrac's. "Thank you, Darrac, for understanding."

"Absolutely." He released Mychel's hand and turned to her. "I'll be waiting to hear from you."

"It'll be hard to think about training."

He gave her a look that said he understood but that she better work hard. "Do it for me."

The kiss on her cheek left her with a rush of emotions that lifted her spirit. "I will," she said.

He stepped out past Mychel and paused to say, "Make her learn."

"I will." Mychel sounded almost surprised.

"What about lunch?"

Darrac looked from her to Mychel and back. "Another time."

Darrac tipped his head to Mychel before walking away, seeming too good to be true.

Maybe that was the problem—he was too good and was actually anxious to go out with someone else.

Shut it, Lilly. Don't think that way.

"Are you ready to meet the others again?"

Lilly blinked. "Others?"

"You were drunk last time."

# Chapter 30

**H** e had averted suspicions by the slayer, although barely. Allaying his fears would keep the celemae from interfering in Darrac's plans for Lilly. The slaying of the carnoc had been enough to confirm their organization and revealed the identities of several other slayers. Darrac knew how to deal with them.

But he had let the slayer take over with guiding Lilly to growing stronger. Her strength might be the key to his success, if he could continue to feed off it.

There was something about her that he hadn't resolved yet. He would learn what it was, but suspicions bounced in his mind about the luriel changing their tactics.

Or Lilly was a fluke and one to be studied. Their enemy was adapting, changing. Other daemons had reported particularly strong celemae, but none had taken the time to study them. Were the luriel getting desperate?

If so, he needed more information.

Letting her practice with Mychel was a risk, but seeing how quickly she regained the power he had taken would provide some insights.

Until later, he could take care of some other matters.

Darrac soon reached the lobby and stepped from the elevator. Outside, he acknowledged the tip of the guard's head with his own. The sun shone on him with its warmth, although neither cold nor warm affected him as it did humans. It could have been nothing more than a light caress; it neither bothered him nor pleasured him. He walked down several streets, using his human legs to carry him away without being detected. Blinking to another location would only make the Fen suspicious. After the act that had disarmed the man in the elevator, he didn't want to give the slayer any reason to become extra protective of Lilly.

Darrac shouldn't have left her.

The thought of what could happen while he was away sparked a rage within him that twisted and writhed into a raw power like he hadn't felt since he and the other daemons escaped into Velok. He wanted to pick off the Pallora Fen once and for all in an open battle, not hide and manipulate circumstances to make their lives difficult. The slayers had defeated his carnoc pets, but they would not so easily defeat other beasts of Fal Oroneth.

In a fury, he blinked from the sunshine to the black of the deep lair of Keigan Castle in one of the side rooms from the bridge. He couldn't blink into the bridge chamber because of the power emanating from it, a defense against the luriel.

The sooner he returned to Lilly, the better he would feel about the Fen not getting their clutches into her. He could give himself more time with a sufficient distraction. If they thought the carnoc were difficult, they would be hard-pressed to defeat his other pets.

He stomped into the bridge chamber and crossed the boundary to absorb the power. It coursed through him in the transformation of Shadow Realm power, the room shrinking around him as he grew to full form.

"Lord Darrac."

The voice was unexpected, triggering a reaction in his fury to lash out, but he stayed his claw with the mage.

And he was glad when he saw Saul step from behind a table with an open book and a lantern. In his distraction, he hadn't noticed the mage studying. Still, he wanted no interruptions. The Pallora Fen needed to be kept busy to stay out of his business with Lilly.

"My lord." The mage prostrated himself. Better.

"Speak." His daemon voice growled a deep bass.

"I wish your omnipotent insight, Great One."

Much better. Darrac's fury abated at the pleasure of the mage's flattery. "Ask your question."

"It's about the books we found, the ones hidden for over two thousand years of conflict. I believe I have discovered something to worry you, my lord." Saul peeked up from the floor.

Darrac waited for an explanation.

"I—I—I..." He paused and took a breath. "I believe the luriel seek a power in this realm."

"Explain."

"I'm not certain of the details. I hoped you could help me translate." The mage spoke with more confidence. Darrac frowned on a lack of ambition, but time was something lacking.

His call on the creatures of the Shadow Realm could wait. If the mage was right, the information could be vital to their efforts against the luriel.

Darrac stepped back, shrinking into his human form. "Show me what you found."

Saul rose and led him to the table with the open book. He flipped several pages, referring to the scribbles on a book set aside, scribbles poorly imitating the ancient tongue in the book matching notes in the modern tongue of these men.

At last, he stopped and pointed at a section of text. "There."

Darrac stepped forward and the mage moved aside.

"Where did you find this?" Darrac lifted the cover to study the faded edges of leather from another time, well preserved and decorated with imprinted symbols of the language of the ancestors of the luriel and daemons, an ancient race nearly forgotten. His human heart nearly stopped.

A vague impression of a humanlike people drifted up from a past long gone, a time before the luriel and daemons, a past when he existed as someone else.

Darrac shook away the images and set the book down.

"I'm not sure how to interpret this. I have no translation for it," Saul said.

Darrac stared at the words and a sketch of some sort of fluid stone with rays like a halo around it. The descriptions around it referred to something that prompted more of the disturbing images of another time.

He shook it off and stepped back, uneasy with the book and its effect on him. "It is a threat to us," he said. "I don't know what this Un'dei power is."

"Un'dei?" Saul jumped to take his place to study the page and hastened to scribble some notes on the smaller book. "Is that what it is?" His eyes widened in the excitement of a man discovering the riches of a world. He turned to Darrac, beaming with a nauseating passion. "I will study it, my lord, and learn the secrets of the luriel's weapon, everything that is written by the Pallora Fen."

Darrac eyed the book warily and gave a nod to the mage. The book may have saved him the trouble of cursing the luriel for their secrets, but it had stirred up something within him that now came with a feeling of reminiscence that left him uncomfortable.

The luriel needed to be destroyed once and for all. That was his purpose. Lilly was the key to that success.

Occupying the Pallora Fen would aid in his goal.

Pushing aside the book and the memories of another person before the Sundering, he returned to the bridge and reclaimed his rightful form. Wings spread in majesty from his back and the tail snaked behind him, aiding his balance on clawed feet. Humans seemed frail, but their bodies were capable of much greater agility. Each form had its advantages.

And its weaknesses.

He knew the creature to challenge the slayers, especially the swordsman among them. Through the open bridge swirling its energy about him, he witnessed his home and searched the high mountains of Lanzir for his most graceful and vicious of pets, the pinnacle of air predators. They would not be so easily taken down by the slayers, who were bound by gravity to the land they walked.

Through the bridge, he searched the cliffs of the Lanzir and found the black entrance of a cave. From within came the threatening rumble of its occupant.

"I call on you to serve," Darrac said in his home tongue. The beast he beckoned fought his summons. Sluggish, likely from a recent large meal.

But the king of air hunters was not one to pass up another opportunity. Darrac lured it with a mental image of prey.

A low trilling emanated from the cavern.

Darrac turned to the magi watching him. "Go. Tell the others to hide. This beast does not distinguish friend or food."

Saul nodded and hurried away.

From the mouth of the cave emerged the next challenge for the slayers, one that should not be easily defeated like the carnoc. One that would keep Mychel from Lilly, perhaps for good.

* * *

With the first moon rising into the sky, the new predator took to the air beyond the hidden walls of Keigan Castle. Against the faint glow of the partial moon in the darkening east, a serpentine specter with four wings beating the air vanished into the encroaching night. Although it had not threatened him in his daemon form, some proof had been required to convince the beast to obey him in human form. The weak humans would not have his power advantage when it came to facing it.

Darrac stared into the East, the direction it had flown, into the night and away from Noren City, which would be seeing evening soon.

Soon, he would have what he wanted. His pet would lure the slayers to their deaths.

Satisfaction to be chasing off the swordsman from Lilly's presence and to be reclaiming his rightful place with her sweetened the prospect of feeding off her power. With luck, his pet would draw Mychel away, to be out of her life for good. Lilly would be his.

# Chapter 31

**T** he light surrounded her and flowed through her in a connection that carried her away from her body.

Lilly floated on it, consumed by the power of the luriel within her. The more she studied with Mychel, the easier it became to link with it. Yesterday afternoon had been productive after Darrac left, but returning to it again proved even better.

"It's beautiful!" The awed voice sounded far away and from someone else, and she had the sensation of her mouth moving too cumbersomely to have formed the words.

"Yes. Enlightenment is even more extraordinary. You're a prodigy, Lilly."

The meaning of his words nearly pulled her from the connection in shock—she couldn't imagine it being any better than this. She reclaimed the connection before it broke.

Throughout the connection, something called to her, a sense of something needed, a search. _What is it?_ The thought strayed through her.

The world opened on a scene of radiant splendor. The city glowed in the sun, spread out below in levels to the river's banks. White stone reflected the daylight in a blaze that could have shone from within. Half a mile away, buildings gave way to a section of foliage, a respite of nature amidst the barrenness of civilization. Across the river, the city continued, climbing the rise of land.

"Lo'Rella and the others study the substance, but it is unstable, always changing."

A woman of dark hair, her title and name clear as Ershan Soroya, pressed her lips together while leaning on the carved stone banister, her sad eyes on the city. "I need not tell you what happens if this fails."

"Our way of life ends."

Soroya nodded. "Despite the immortality, we are still vulnerable. The plants must remain at full capacity to unmake this curse." A hint of fear shadowed her quiet voice. "If this substance is the magic we expect it to be, we will finally undo the mistakes of our past and regain what once was ours."

"And if it doesn't?"

"We keep trying." Soroya's jaw set in the hard line of a fighter.

"So, we risk replacing one mistake with another?"

The images faded, along with the sensation of having a different body in a different place and time. With them the connection to the luriel faded.

Lilly blinked away a moment of dizziness. A steadying hand on her shoulder stopped her from falling.

She followed the arm to a concerned face and straightened to reassure him. "I'll be fine. Just...a little disoriented."

"Another vision?"

She nodded. "Mmm."

"What did the luriel show you?"

"I...don't think it was the luriel that I saw. These were people—exquisite, to be sure, but not glowing like...the other vision." Why would the luriel show her another people? She looked to Mychel, but his brow furrowed in a reflection of her own questions. "What does it mean?"

"Were they human? Our realm?"

"They looked human but..." Something felt wrong about that. "They talked about magic," she muttered.

Mychel stiffened. "Magi?"

"No. Mag- _ic_. They were using it to...fix something."

He shook his head. "I don't understand. Why would they show you something else?" His eyes glazed in the way that happened when one studied thoughts in their own minds in the quest for something elusive.

Lilly watched him debate with himself, the conflict playing across his face almost comical, until the frustration melted into something akin to shock.

"It can't be," he breathed. He stared as if seeing her for the first time.

Her frustrations growing each second, Lilly huffed. "What?!"

"Before the Sundering."

"What's 'the Sundering'?" A memory clicked, an image of a woman mentioning sundering...Jaz. She had mentioned it but hadn't explained it.

Keeping his back to the open balcony door and the street noises that she had long ago tuned out, Mychel turned his head in a listening pose. "The event that created the luriel and daemons."

"But to sunder means to split."

"Exactly. The luriel and daemons are two halves of what was once one race that we know nothing about. They were gods upon our world. We don't know what happened, and what was revealed to past celemae was destroyed in the Reformation." Mychel still wore that dumbfounded expression, but now it slowly blossomed into something coy. "But for the Book of Alethea. The old diviner knows. He showed me a passage..." Once again, his face contorted into a frown, but this time he rose from his place on the floor of her apartment and stepped out on the balcony.

Lilly untangled her legs to follow into the fresh, cool air. "You don't believe that nonsense of the old religions, do you?"

The sideways glance hit her like a reprimand. "All legends are borne in some truth. It may be buried and disguised, but it's there. Society may have abandoned the misinterpretation filtered through the eyes of the outsider who believes himself inside, but it doesn't change the origins."

She followed Mychel's eyes out onto the orange glow of evening over the city, trying to understand how a dusty religion tied into her vision.

"We know the luriel and daemons are real and we pass on to new celemae the warnings and information we know, but much was lost in the Reformation. Now, all we have are the writings translated from a different era, interpreted through the minds of men and filtered through their perceptions...but the original book was there in the temple. They could not have changed her words much in the translation. Alethea was the only filter." He turned to her, standing close with his hands settling on her shoulders and a steady gaze bearing a deep admiration that made it hard for her to meet.

"Lilly," he said in a quiet voice. "You are the mouth of the luriel, the one who can interpret their words, their wisdom, and their warnings."

She shook him off. "I don't want to be that. I didn't ask for this. I just want to be me." Why couldn't he understand? She didn't want anyone to depend on her, to burden her with the hopes of a whole realm— _two_ realms. "I just want..." The word stuck on her tongue, the one concept that he didn't seem to grasp.

Frustrated, she returned to the apartment, intent on getting a glass of water in the kitchen.

His steps followed quickly behind her.

"Leave me. I don't want these visions or the luriel. I'm no fighter. I wish this wouldn't have happened."

His shadow loomed at the edge of her vision. "But it has. You were chosen, Lilly."

She slammed her hand on the counter.

"Then unchoose me!" She stared at him with a strong urge to will him to do what she wished, while in the back of her mind knowing it couldn't be undone.

When he didn't react, she marched off in a huff.

"I don't have that power," he murmured.

Exactly what she expected, but it only spiked her frustration to a new level. He'd better stay away from her, or he'd be the target of her anger.

"Focus on communicating with your luriel."

She huffed and sat down with her arms crossed. Now was definitely not the time to think about that, despite the calm it brought her. She didn't want the visions that came with it.

Aware of Mychel's quiet presence lingering a ways back, she felt a hint of regret creeping into her. He wasn't the one who did this to her. He was only the messenger.

After some time, her temper cooled enough for rational thoughts to come to fruition. "I'm just...scared." There, she admitted it. "I'm always in danger now."

"We all are, but so are all the innocent humans unaware of our battle. Daemons kill them too."

She shivered at a chill passing through her.

"It's our job to protect them by defeating the daemons. If the Shadow Realm falls, so does the Gray Realm."

She wished Mychel hadn't said that. She wished even more that Darrac would return. She was done studying. For a while, she wanted to be a normal woman with a normal life.

In the quiet between them, Lilly sat listening or, rather, feeling the currents of the Shadow Realm energy.

At the ring from Mychel's pocket, the spell broke. He pulled out his comm unit and switched it on. In a tight voice, he said, "Talk to me."

In the quiet of the room, the squawk of another voice reached her, but Lilly couldn't make out the words. She soon realized she didn't need to.

"I know," he said, his eyes on the city beyond the balcony. He turned back to Lilly. "I'm with her now. She's safe."

After a pause of more squawking from the speaker muffled by his ear, his jaw clenched and released. "You're sure?"

After a few seconds, he nodded. At a beep on his unit, he frowned and lifted it away to study it.

His face went pale and he put it back to his cheek. "I'll be in touch. Someone else is trying to link in."

Without waiting, he tapped the unit, his face colder than a winter vortex.

"Amos...To what do I owe this pleasure?" His heavy sarcasm was hard to miss.

A couple seconds later, the sarcasm spread thickly: "Excuse me... _Commandant_."

Commandant? As in Peacekeepers?

Intrigued, Lilly stood up. To her surprise, Mychel tilted the unit towards her. She took his invitation and leaned close to hear a hard-edged voice on the speaker.

"...What are you getting at? What's going on?"

"What are you talking about?" Mychel asked.

"You know what I'm talking about, Mychel. Don't get coy with me."

"Honestly, Am—Commandant, I don't know."

"Are you near a viewer?"

Lilly grabbed the remote and keyed on the screen.

"I am," Mychel said while taking the remote. "What am I looking for?"

"Live coverage of Nikkan Province...You really don't know?"

"No." Mychel switched frequencies until he hit upon one showing a cluster of Peacekeeper hoverjets circling a massive wreckage site like flies over dung.

Lilly's blood went cold.

"Is this your friends' doing?" the faint voice from the speaker demanded.

Mychel's jaw lifted from shock to a cold determination. Cheek muscles flexed with the tightening of his jaw.

"No. Did anyone witness what happened?"

"Reports of a giant flying monster that spit acid."

Lilly cringed, sickened by the images inspired in her imagination. It was like something out of mythology. She recalled something like it described in her historical literature class, and in thinking that also struck on the memory of another creature like the first two. Realization zinged through her brain. It _was_ out of mythology. Mychel was right in what he'd said about the truth being buried within it. One just had to dig it out from behind the filters of those who embellished the tales over the years.

"Where is it now?"

"I thought you could tell me that."

"Sorry. I've got nothing. Now do you believe in daemons?"

A long pause followed, then, "We'll discuss that another time."

"Were there any survivors?" Mychel asked.

"Yes, but no one stuck around for a close look."

Lilly let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd held and watched Mychel. The pained expression on his face told her all she needed to know, that he cared about everyone.

"And the creature disappeared?"

"It flew off, but I don't think it's gone. If this is another case like the other day..." The voice hesitated but continued with a new bitterness: "We may need you and your friends."

Although he had the right to smirk, Mychel's sober expression was that of a man who wished for better news. "I understand."

"We can count on you?"

"Yes, Commandant."

"Good. I'll be in contact with the others. Stay where you are until further notice."

Mychel clenched his jaw, and his eyes shifted up again to the live broadcast. "Yes, sir."

The link clicked and he lowered it from his face.

"Acid?" Lilly asked, hoping she had heard wrong. "Flying?"

"The daemons have upped their game. They're after something." He shook his head while tucking the comm unit back into his coat pocket, but he didn't look at her. "Why risk revealing themselves now..." He turned to the balcony and looked out to the southwest, towards Porton, away from the eastern province mentioned by the commandant.

Lilly waited in expectation of him explaining his thoughts, but Mychel said nothing more. At her approach, he whirled, his coat flinging out from his legs.

"Stay here," he said.

Lilly blinked and followed his hurried steps back through the apartment to the door. "Shouldn't I stay with you for protection?"

"Not this time." The door slid open and only then did he turn. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I won't be gone long. Remember what I've taught you—the light of the luriel can save you."

"What about the commandant?"

He rushed out, his long strides carrying him away before she could ask about the creatures.

Down the hall, a gray-haired woman stuck her head out. Lilly slammed her door shut. From the viewer came the faint volume of voices talking about the mysterious monster that had destroyed a town and disappeared.

She didn't want to be alone, and only Mychel had the skills that she trusted to protect her.

But he couldn't be at his full strength. It hadn't been long ago that the other creatures had put him on the gurney.

She hoped he came back soon.

She hoped he came back.

# Chapter 32

**T** he journey took too long. Mychel waited impatiently in the elevator, then for the taxi, and in the taxi ride to the old city. He shouldn't be away from Lilly like this, but he had to talk to them.

Once out, he paid the driver. The taxi sped away, stirring up a cloud of dust over Mychel before he was ten feet away. He hurried from the landing to reach the safety of the locked warehouse, which some of the others occupied at all hours.

She'd better be there too. Having been aware of the nearing of her own Ascension, Shira had given up her home and job some weeks ago, which was why she was one of the few always available. He hoped it didn't come for a while, so they would have her wisdom to guide them, especially after the loss of Jaz.

Once inside the old warehouse, he made his way through the maze of derelict machinery and storage containers to the common area.

To his relief, Shira was eating a simple meal on one of the sofas he'd ordered for them a few years ago.

He took a seat near her, adjusting the sword out of his way. "Still tending to the physical needs?"

Without looking up and still chewing a bite, she nodded. She swallowed and said, "Maintaining strength if those daemons come."

He shifted under the scrutinizing gaze that fixed on him. "You heard?"

She nodded while chewing another bite. Mychel sat in contemplative silence while she finished.

Shira swallowed and said, "This goes against everything we know about the daemons."

His turn to nod and see if she came to the same conclusions.

"You could have called."

That came sooner than he expected. "I didn't want Lilly overhearing."

"Why? You think she can't handle the horrors of the daemons? Mychel..."

He put up his hands to halt her coming reprimand. "It's not only her. I think the TRIA might be spying on my comm." The Thrissen Republic Information Authority had every incentive to monitor his activities now, if they had ever left him alone.

"Since the Gowran incident." She set the plate aside with a few pieces of uneaten food on it. "I wouldn't be surprised. But that doesn't tell me why Lilly's not with you now."

She wasn't going to let that go.

"I do need to get back to her." He had to restrain himself from flinching under her glare.

"She...has another date." Or likely would. He wasn't ready to voice his true suspicions.

Shira huffed. "You'd best keep a close watch on her from now on. I don't know what the daemons are after, but it worries me that they're willing to risk this carefully constructed mask of persecution of religions to keep us at the fringes by exposing their existence."

Among the Pallora Fen, it was generally accepted that the Reformation had been guided by daemons to isolate celemae for easier picking. It seemed too coincidental that the uprising against religions had targeted the celemae specifically.

"Think about it, Mychel. By revealing these creatures and the revelation that a handful of slayers could take them out with primitive weapons, where all the highest technology in our world was no more than pesky insects to them, it's clear to the world that there is something 'unexplained' going on. Even Reformists can't deny that, unless they take the conspiracy route."

"Which they will." Mychel sighed away the worries that this would be turned against them. "Maybe that's their plan." Rather than the coincidence that this had started with the failed attack on Lilly. If Darrac was a daemon, he was only hurting their cause by letting her live.

"What are you after?" he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

Realizing he had spoken aloud, he shook her question away. "Nothing. Thinking. They must have discovered something and are trying to distract us from finding it."

Shira reacted with the kind of agreement that indicated long hours of contemplation already spent processing this information. "What power do the luriel most desire? The power that would give them the ultimate advantage over the daemons is what we seek, a power lost from the Shadow Realm. It's possible the daemons believe that's been found here and are changing their tactics. But is it a distraction meant to unsettle us or is the use of these creatures just a precursor to something even worse? The only thing I can see is that they're gauging our present level of capability in fighting them."

A shudder passed through him to hear her explanation. Hers was almost worse than his own suspicions, but either was an equally plausible explanation for the current state of the war brought to the Gray Realm.

He hadn't come for that, but it was an interesting perspective he hadn't fully considered from its distant tickle at the back of his thoughts about Lilly.

"Have you heard from the other slayers?" Their comm units were likely tapped, or at least the comm units of those who had fought with him in Gowran likely were. The Peacekeepers wouldn't have let him go so readily without some way to monitor his activities.

"They haven't contacted you?"

"No."

"Hmm." Shira glanced aside at the handful of others meditating or resting about the area.

After a few seconds, she returned her attention to him. "I am aware of the Peacekeepers asking for slayers. One of our members reported an open request before you arrived. It was a relief to see you here. We're not expendable, but we are the only ones who can defeat these creatures. Stay with Lilly. There are other slayers in the east who can deal with this. Your task is to prepare this one for Enlightenment, or another can take over."

"No." The word jumped from his lips the instant the thought of leaving her hit his heart.

Something knowing passed over that face watching him.

"New fledglings awaken every few days," she said. "I need someone here to protect them, too."

So much for any thoughts of restful nights. He bowed his head in obeisance. She was right in her conclusions, a wisdom that must have come from her close contact with the luriel in her meditations.

"We must not let these..." Her voice trailed off and she sat up, suddenly alert to their surroundings.

And he understood. He'd felt the shadow like a cloak pulled over his eyes and slowly stood. All in the room fell quiet, observant.

Something had breached the divide between realms, and they had all felt it.

His comm chimed from his pocket, earning him a warning look from Shira. He fumbled to reach his fingers in and cut it off.

Daemons might dare to attack a group of celemae, although not that he'd been made aware; but they had been changing their tactics to become less predictable.

He withdrew his sword, careful to minimize sound in the stifling silence. His fingers settling around the familiar leather wrap of the hilt filled him with confidence.

The darkness wavered, lifting slightly from his awareness, like a daemon finding its form.

"It's not here," Shira said with a deep breath. Her shoulders relaxed. "But we must be cautious."

The disappointment of missing an opportunity to reduce their enemy's numbers by one more deflated his attentiveness. "You're sure?" Not even he could tell within a certain range how close a daemon was, especially when they camouflaged their presence.

"Another fledgling is at risk, not us. They wouldn't dare attack so many of the Enlightened gathered in one place."

He hadn't been aware of another.

Had he been so distracted by recent events?

An understanding smile played on Shira's lips. "The Awakened have been assigned mentors to prepare them. You should return to Lilly, but keep your comm close. We may need you if those creatures come this way."

"Understood."

"You really shouldn't be afraid of what the Peacekeepers might hear, but it's good to see you well after Gowran."

He gave a nod and pulled out the comm unit to see who had linked in.

The ID froze his breath in his lungs—Lilly! How could he have been so stupid not to check?

He entered her code and waited for the link. After only a second, it clicked to a panicked voice, "Mychel?"

"Lilly." With a quick excuse, he hurried away to avoid disturbing the others returning to their meditations. "I'm glad you're all right."

"I'm not. I felt it, Mychel." Her voice was barely a frightened whisper. "That was a daemon, wasn't it?"

"Yes." She'd come far in a short time to recognize the presence of a daemon already, but he expected it for the strength of power he'd felt from her in their session. "I'd guess it became human already."

"Get back here quickly. I don't want to be alone. I don't know if I can defend against one of those things."

"I'll be there soon. Stay calm, Lilly." Her trust in him granted a certain relief that she was finally accepting this new part of her life, although ten days wasn't long compared to some. And he was relieved that she trusted him specifically.

"Hurry, Mychel. Please!"

"Of course." He made his way to the main door, wishing he hadn't left her, but he hadn't wanted her to hear the discussion, nor had he wanted to risk Commandant Renvil making judgments based on what he overheard, which they likely were doing now. "But I need to get off the link to call a taxi."

In a hesitant voice, she said, "All right. Call me right away afterwards."

"I will. Talk to you soon."

"Yeah."

Before she could delay him, he clicked off and entered the code for Kade and hoped against the odds that he was free.

# Chapter 33

**T** he sun still hung in the sky over the horizon of Noren City. With all luck, Lilly would be anxious to see him, especially after more than a day.

Darrac walked down the street, confident in his plans coming together. The mortas would keep the slayers and likely many of the Fen busy, giving him the time he needed to complete his feeding on Lilly.

A familiar connection passed through him, causing his steps to falter. He looked around, trying to pinpoint a direction.

Daemons. They'd better not interfere with his plans.

The power increased in his vicinity, tapping into suspicions about the reason for this visit. If Torek had a message, he could bring it himself, then they'd see how weak he really was; but Torek wouldn't risk crossing when he could demonstrate his authority by sending others.

Darrac continued along the street, his mood growing more foul with the presence bursting to full and fading into camouflage. That wasn't the result of taking a fledgling. Rather, this was a daemon sent on a mission. It better not be him; he still had several days before Torek's deadline.

Carts and bikes going down the street passed on his right. Other pedestrians passed him with minimal acknowledgment, if any, and then likely because he studied those who appeared from around a corner or from a shop door in expectance of a confrontation.

But it wasn't from ahead that he saw anything unusual. Rather, he had a feeling someone had started following. To test his theory and expose the individual, he made his way past various businesses and turned a corner down another street. At one point, he paused to study the sign hovering in the air outside and glanced back. A woman with her dark hair pulled up out of her face hesitated at an automatic door.

He waited.

After a second, she entered the building.

Sloppy. The other daemons needed practice.

Darrac rounded the corner of the nearest building and waited in the space between, a narrow space just enough for trash incinerators to hum away with the occasional roar of activity.

As expected, the woman soon passed him.

Darrac stepped in behind her and followed a distance behind to a square with a fountain surrounded by wide-set skywalks connecting buildings, outdoor seating along one of the handrail sections, a pleasant outdoor mall.

The woman strode to an area of small round tables with two chairs at each and sat down to watch the fountain spray up and out into its pool in a display of water art.

Not very clever, but clearly not frael.

He'd give her what she wanted. "May I join you?"

She looked up and a sly smile touched her lips. "Any time."

She wasn't fooling him with the coyness game. He pulled up a chair, and a miniaturized human only a foot high flickered to life in the center of the table.

"What can we serve you?" the holographic woman said.

"Water," Darrac said.

"The same."

The young woman in the hologram winked out.

"Rather conservative choice." His companion slid her hand along her hips.

"You or the water?"

She huffed an almost-laugh but displayed no hint of amusement in her otherwise attractive features. Rather, the look in her eyes darkened into something more akin to annoyance.

"You," she finally said, fixing him with a glare that confirmed his suspicions. "Can't even eliminate one little celemae."

Irritated by the condescension by a lesser daemon, Darrac leaned back and turned to studying the fountain.

"What does Torek want?" He didn't have time for these games.

"Answers." She looked down at her breasts around which she cupped her hands. "These things have always puzzled me. What purpose do two lumps of fatty tissue serve?"

"They have their purposes." Ones he had found quite satisfying in past experiences.

She bounced a couple of times and, seeming to have given up trying to figure out the solution, shrugged and dropped her hands. "Yes, men do seem to be drawn to them. You must find these humans amusing to want to stay among them so long."

"They have their uses." And now he had confirmation of her reason for visiting him in the Gray Realm.

"And you have duties to our lord. Torek grows impatient."

Darrac crossed his arms and almost laughed. "Was he ever patient?"

She tipped her head in acknowledgment. "Nevertheless...He's not pleased with your recent activities."

Wary of what knowledge the leader of Velok had, he asked, "What activities?"

"The mortas attacked an area where Tallat was waiting to take a fledgling."

It had been a risk.

A woman bearing a tray with two glasses of clear water stopped at their table with a pleasant smile. "Your drinks." She set one before each of them and tucked the tray under her arm. "Would you like anything else—a menu perhaps?"

"No," his companion snapped without looking up, her eyes scorning him.

The smile on the waitress's face faltered but she went on her way, a bit of a rush in her step.

"So, who have I the great pleasure of speaking with?" The least she could do was identify herself.

She sat back and averted her eyes, her jaw shifting. "I am Kuryo. I serve under Frael Seiras."

That explained much about her—he would hardly call Seiras Frael material. "And Torek is testing her loyalty—and yours—by demanding that she send a messenger to check on me."

At that, Kuryo's expression darkened.

A worthy act, but he knew the truth—she risked demotion if she didn't bring back a satisfactory explanation—or him—and couldn't force him to comply.

Before he could lift his glass, she slapped a hand on his forearm and hushed her voice. "You risk undoing all his work, the efforts of many of us, by releasing the mortas into this world. The humans will see that only celemae can defeat them and begin believing, perhaps even honoring them. Thousands of years of struggling against the luriel will be for nothing!"

Darrac eyed the hand on his arm with contempt.

She took the point and released him.

Better.

"Do not question my judgment," he said in a hard voice. "You can tell Torek that it was necessary to distract the Pallora Fen."

"Why?"

"I don't discuss details with an underling."

"Then perhaps you'd prefer to discuss them with Lord Torek."

"No," he said casually.

"You have been summoned to appear, Frael Darrac. Torek's orders. He expected you wouldn't cooperate."

So, she dared to command him. He clamped his jaw, all his suspicions crashing down to bury him. He was losing his influence in Velok already and would need to step up his plans before his efforts were wasted. "I have work here."

"To explain to our lord."

He didn't have to listen to her. Darrac started to rise—

But froze upon the appearance of three women surrounding him. Kuryo looked up at them, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Please fight us."

He refused to give her that satisfaction. It hammered home the point that Torek was worried about his intentions, a fear that would play into Darrac's claws.

Rather than fight, he stood and led them away to somewhere out of mortal eyes. Once they were hidden, he found the one camera monitoring the narrow alley and blotted its lens with a thought.

The crossing took little effort and transformed him in the same instant. Once more in Velok, he shook off the limits of the human form but now found it odd to feel steely claws weighing upon his heavy arms and the cold stone beneath his tail.

They crossed caverns with tall columns and sweeping arches wide enough for four abreast through passageways that connected chambers with high ceilings where daemons could fly to the stalactites hanging like multi-colored mineral chandeliers. It wasn't a terrible home, but it wasn't the surface world. It was, however, the only place the luriel dared not tread.

His guards accompanied him to the one chamber he detested most—the dwelling area of Torek, who never seemed to leave the chamber, which had served him well for millennia and one in which Darrac suspected was slowly changing his outlook on the war.

The king of daemons turned from a floating view of the city of Arthan from a distance. The magic faded and the city disappeared.

Leading the entourage, Kuryo fell to one knee, her head bowed and wings falling in a form of complete supplication. She would not be respected in her display. Clear to Darrac was the fact that she had never confronted Torek before. Such weakness of will would not be tolerated among the frael.

"Darrac." The voice boomed in the cavern.

He stood his ground while the others bowed. A frael deserved respect and did not show weakness.

Torek stepped past the lesser daemon, who remained embarrassingly prostrated, and stopped before Darrac. Red eyes gleamed with menace from a head and shoulders above, but Darrac was unflinching.

"What are you up to?" Torek spoke in the old tongue, but he never went anywhere else to assimilate other languages, a drawback that could hurt him.

To placate the larger daemon, Darrac finally bowed his head. "I seek only the elimination of our enemies."

Nostril slits on their leader's face widened and narrowed with a puff of hot air. "How is calling forth the mortas a service? In one day, you have undone all the work of two hundred years ago, the pinnacle of our achievement in human manipulation against the luriel."

"Maybe, but maybe not." Now to convince Torek, and if it worked, it would serve to gain him greater esteem. "Humans are suspicious by nature. The Pallora Fen are the only ones who can defeat the mortas. But, given the right suggestions in their sciences, the others will also blame them for the appearance of the creatures. They have no other explanation. We convinced them to forsake religious beliefs of the unexplained. We can turn this into a hunt of the celemae as the bringers of the beasts that destroy them."

Red eyes narrowed, a sign of him not being convinced.

"The celemae have been reviving since the Reformation. This is our chance to renew the pity of the crazy people and have them locked away and drugged, where they can be easy targets. We risk no exposure of ourselves."

The Lord of Velok strode away, his wings shifting at his back. "And if they don't turn on the celemae?" He turned from a carved throne.

"I've already planned how to guarantee success."

"And you neglected to tell me of this when we recently visited? Have you finished with the fledgling?"

At that, Darrac had to command his tail be still, to restrain his agitation at the confrontation. Lilly was a source of power for him. The thought of giving Torek an excuse to send another to destroy her tore through him, sparking a ferocity barely restrained.

"She is...a challenge. Too powerful for one daemon—"

Torek huffed. "Yet you swore it would be done."

The shudder of rage in that accusation rippled through Darrac to slap his tail aside.

"You've given up on the fledgling to focus on playing games with the humans. Go. Amuse yourself, Darrac, while we conquer Arthan."

Darrac barely held his emotions in check, but the relief of Torek disregarding Lilly cooled the fires of his anger from the insults.

"Humans are unpredictable, but they can also be very suspicious, especially those in power who seek to keep it." The words lashed out with the full meaning behind them and clearly smacked Torek in his pride.

Before the larger daemon attacked, Darrac whirled and marched from the chamber, his steps pounding a deafening reverberation as a warning not to cross him. Outside the chamber, a thought struck that pulled him aside to listen. Torek likely wouldn't pursue him, but he would give the others orders, or punish them for their failure.

"He will be punished for his insolence, Lord Torek."

"No!" The roar resounded with an echo through the tall doorway of the chamber. "To punish my frael is to challenge me."

After a pause and the echo of steps, Torek continued, "Darrac understands the humans better than most. You would do well to learn what he knows."

"My lord," a less deep voice said with a note of puzzlement. "He defied you."

"I expect my frael to speak their minds."

Darrac froze, confused by the support Torek had given him. Why would their leader, who had seemed to question his loyalty days ago, now be supporting him?

"Return to your posts and fight for your frael. Leave the Gray Realm to those who understand."

"Yes, Lord Torek."

A slight growl accompanied the heavy snuff of his dissatisfaction.

Darrac's wings twitched involuntarily with his own satisfaction. Time to return to Lilly, or not—it would be late in the Gray Realm. But he could make that work too.

In a thought, he crossed the rift between realms to her room. Like that first time encountering her, he hovered over her bed, but this time, he wouldn't finish the sleeping celemae. Rather, he settled down next to the figure frowning in her sleep.

Before she awoke, he reached inside of her to tap the spring of power growing brighter and, as he'd feared, resistant to him. The luriel spirit had already grown strong enough to fight him independently, but he had plenty of strength and increased the power of his attack to siphon its strength into his own. Not as subtle as the last two times, this might gain the attention of the Pallora Fen.

Lilly let out a sigh and relaxed, falling into a deeper sleep in her weakness.

Confident that she wouldn't awaken, he materialized next to her.

"Thank you," he whispered. He wasn't sure why, but something compelled him to touch her, to reach out to her in her peaceful slumber and, with his fingertips, to gently comb away the colored hair from her face. The smooth warmth of her skin inflamed a need to protect her.

With her increased recovery and growth in strength, his own feedings fulfilled him with greater gains. Soon, he would have the power to destroy Torek. But he would not sacrifice Lilly. He needed her alive.

His fingers traced along her hairline to her neck, the delicate lines giving way to her shoulder. The feelings to protect her grew into something else within him, a need that shackled his darkness—the desire to keep her alive and feel her need for him. She had always needed him, an expression of trust that filled him with a power more addicting than the feeding but also one which bound him to keep her safe.

No. No one controlled the daemons of Fal Oroneth. He would not submit to any luriel.

In an effort to reclaim his freedom, he returned to the incorporeal state, expecting to shed the feelings that had arisen in his human form. He already would have attracted the slayer, who likely was somewhere close and would be there soon.

In the dark of the room outlined in faint moonlight, he hovered over her, sated but conflicted. There had to be a better way, but if there was, he didn't see it. Still, he felt it clinging to him, binding to him, a sense of becoming, and she caused it. More than any other, this celemae was dangerous.

The chime of her comm unit came from the next room, breaking the spell.

Enough!

In the whirl of emotions raging through him, he blinked to Keigan Castle and reformed. In a rush through corridors that echoed back his light human steps in mockery, he raced past magi, who jumped from his path. He reached the bridge room and stood upon its power in his true form, the dark form since the Sundering. That was who he was—an inspirer of fear amongst men and daemons, a scourge of death on humans and luriel.

He was a slave to no celemae!

His roar rattled through the chamber but could not resolve the conflict within him. The transfer of energy from the Shadow Realm couldn't match the richness of Lilly. It gave him nothing compared to what he had just taken from her.

"My lord?"

He whirled on the speaker. A low rumble emanated from his throat. The magi had better make themselves useful.

Harrel stood before a cluster of maps and charts hanging around the nearest corner of the room with shelves of books and papers overflowing.

"The bridge room is not a study hall!" Darrac's voice boomed in the small space.

Harrel winced, and Darrac realized it had always been like that. They hadn't moved anything, nor did he want them to, but his anger within himself made everything wrong.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"I—I—I...Forgive me, Lord Darrac."

"What do you want?"

Harrel lifted a sheet in his hand. "I have a report on the mortas."

Something good, he hoped.

Darrac stepped from the bridge, transforming and shrinking to his human form to join the mage, who offered the paper to him.

While Darrac read, Harrel fussed with his hands. "The Peacekeepers called in a 'special team'. I believe they were the slayers you expected."

Darrac scanned the report for the one piece of news that would lift his mood from sour to simply agreeable.

"Three were killed before the creature took off."

He read the words while the mage summarized the report. Darrac handed the sheet back to him, his mood lightening with the good news, but his heart was still troubled by the conflict raging within. "Continue to monitor their activities and update me if anything changes."

"Yes, Lord Darrac."

He had work to do before returning to Lilly.

# Chapter 34

**C** urse the stars! He'd grown too trusting and complacent. Lilly had been the target. The daemons had finally come to finish her for whatever purpose they had been waiting for.

Mychel tapped his fingers along the seat cushion in the back of the taxi, wishing he could make the vehicle go faster, but civilian vehicles had a top speed less than he would like at the moment.

This was his fault for returning to his apartment to shower and rest. He had left her, and yet she had been safe while he'd been away for three days while recovering in Gowran, or barely safe. Since the daemon hadn't attacked her, he'd started feeling that she was strong enough.

Now, however, she wasn't answering her comm unit. She had disregarded him before, but things had changed and he had stressed to her the importance of answering his calls. She had promised not to ignore them. Her not answering meant trouble, and he could only hope it wasn't a daemon.

It could also be Darrac.

The thought pierced his heart with a jolt of anger.

Not now. Jealousy would not aid his Ascension. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, counting backwards from ten. By the time he reached one, they were nearly upon Lilly's apartment complex.

The taxi couldn't land soon enough. He hurried to pay the fare and rushed through the upper door with the code Lilly had given him. Down the stairs, he thumped, whipping around the corners with a hand on the cold rail, until he reached her floor and ran through the hall to her door, which opened with another code.

The door barely opened and he was through. "Lilly!" He searched the small sitting area and the kitchen, calling her name.

Please be all right.

Upon reaching her bedroom, he caught himself.

"Lilly!" he gasped and rushed to her bedside.

She lay still. Panic threatened to take hold but finding a pulse relieved him. He let the panic out in a large exhale.

After a couple seconds to calm himself, he nudged her shoulder. "Lilly, wake up."

No response.

"Lilly." A little harder, he pushed on her shoulder. "Lilly."

Her continued unresponsiveness started the worry all over. Had she fought off a daemon attack and was now sleeping off the fatigue?

"Lilly?"

She took a deep breath in her sleep and rolled forward.

A deep sleeper then. He'd leave her be.

But he wouldn't leave her alone.

Mychel unbuckled the swordbelt and slid to the floor with his back to her bed. Holding the sword to his chest for fastest access, he sat in the quiet room listening to the faint long breaths of her sleeping.

The sharp drop in adrenaline and interrupted sleep left him fatigued and tempted to rest, but he fought the heaviness of his eyes. No daemon would take her away from him.

* * *

The buzz annoyed her, like an insect hovering over her head. Lilly made an attempt to swat it away, her arm heavy until she concentrated all her effort to lift it. She swatted down with the vague notion of something else causing the sound.

An instant later, the buzzing of an alarm ceased and she willed her eyes open to the daylight coming up gray through the window, the sun not yet peeking over the distant horizon.

Morning already, and she felt like she had hardly slept.

Deringer wouldn't like her being late. Bad enough she'd missed getting that report to him two days ago.

Lilly groaned in disgust but resigned to make it into work, even if she had to drag herself in half asleep.

Fighting the grogginess of morning, she threw back the covers and swung her legs over the bed in the same motion that she sat up. She lifted her eyes to the window before her and silently cursed the morning that could have waited a few hours later. After a few seconds of debating about laying back down, she forced herself to stand and walked around the bed to reach the bathroom for a refreshing shower.

The water over her body had only a minimal effect on her alertness, but she felt better nevertheless.

Afterwards, with the towel wrapped around her and tucked to stay above her breasts, she stepped out.

And halted at the door to her room.

"Mychel!"

He lifted his head from hanging over the sword and blinked tired eyes.

"Where'd you come from?" How dare he sneak in while she showered!

Lilly put an arm around the towel to be sure it stayed in place.

"Get out of my room!"

Stiffly, he rose from the floor next to her bed.

"How long were you there?"

"Middle of the night," he grunted while rising.

"Middle...How—Never mind. Get out of my room!" He approached the door too slowly—was he trying to inflame her?—and she grabbed his arm and yanked him out, whirled past, and slammed the door between them.

She couldn't believe it. He'd come in the middle of the night while she slept? Didn't she get any peace from him?

Fuming, she whipped clothes from the closet and hurried to dress. With her shirt tucked into her pants and her vest in hand, she yanked the bedroom door open and marched out to him relaxing on her sofa. He was going to hear about boundaries for this.

"You didn't answer your comm when I felt a daemon attacking," he said without looking up.

Her anger blew away in that moment. "Oh." He'd been protecting her.

He finally looked up. "I'm sorry."

"Oh," she repeated for lack of words. She had to get ready for work. No. He'd come to protect her.

"Um..." What was she doing? She turned back to him from the hall where she'd almost returned to finish her morning.

"Thanks." She turned away and halted. "Yeah...Thanks, I guess."

Whatever.

She rushed to the bathroom and closed the door, her thoughts mixed around and tangled so she had to think through the final steps of making herself presentable for the day.

A few minutes later than she would have liked, she stepped out to see him in the kitchen preparing a meal like he had that first morning.

"Breakfast?" he asked.

"Yeah. Thanks...again." He made it so hard to stay mad at him.

She took a seat on the sofa, changing through the various information pieces playing. One in particular stopped her—a scene of an ugly creature with four wings, a long tail, and three-fingered claws that seemed capable of grasping objects, since it threw a one-man hover patrol into the ground. But it was the head that disgusted her—wide-mouthed with no teeth but four tusk-like pincers that held its prey within those jaws until it could tilt its head back and gulp. The clip ended, leaving her cold with dread and disgust.

With the sound down, she didn't hear the reporters, nor the screams of the innocent. She could live without the latter; the images terrified her enough. She'd never seen such a monster before. It could only have come from one place.

After several seconds of staring, she realized a shadow stood at the periphery of her vision and turned to see Mychel watching the report with a grim face. She didn't think that he could look any paler than normal, but he did.

His throat flashed with a swallow.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Mychel shook his head slowly and dropped his eyes and lifted a fist to his lips. Muscles in his jaw pressed out.

"Mychel?" Lilly rose and stepped close, hoping to break him from whatever had come over him. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head and lowered his hand, making an effort to relax, but she had seen he was upset. He couldn't undo that.

"I'll be fine," he said and retreated to the kitchen.

"What was that?" He was not 'fine' and couldn't hide it from her.

He returned to preparing the hot breakfast, a shadow over his mood.

"Mychel." She followed him, wanting an answer. "That was the latest monster from the Shadow Realm, wasn't it, the one that spit acid?"

He paused in cutting a slice of bread. "It probably is."

"Have you seen anything like it before?"

"No."

Something clicked together in her mind and she grabbed his hand to stop it. "You don't know how to fight it."

He let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know how to fight any of them. I was lucky before."

He was scared!

A new strength arose in her, partly because she couldn't see him afraid like that but also because of the effort he had made to change her and protect her. Seeing him falter made her want to support him, otherwise she had no one she trusted to keep her safe.

Lilly reached up to his shoulder, drawing his eyes to her. Much better. "You will conquer it. I know. Look what you did last time. No one else achieved the same."

"Lilly...I don't think this creature is going to yield like the others did. That..." He dropped his eyes briefly and licked his lips. "That man it swallowed..."

Oh, no. That was the real problem. "I'm sorry," she whispered on a choked breath and embraced him for her own reassurance and to comfort him.

Reluctantly, he wrapped his arms around her. Soon, they tightened in desperation, holding her against him in an iron grip.

"I won't let them get to you," he whispered in her ear.

"I know." He'd made that clear by showing up in her bedroom with his sword in his hands. And she appreciated it, despite the initial anger from the surprise of seeing him there.

When she relaxed her hold, he released her.

"Maybe I'll call in sick today. I wouldn't want to be without my bodyguard with that thing loose, and you wouldn't be allowed in the building with that sword." And she'd have some explaining that wouldn't make any sense. Why make things more difficult if she could avoid it?

The smile that lifted his mood seemed sincere. Trusting that he would be all right, Lilly returned to the sofa and changed from a replay of the horrid incident on the other end of the continent.

Deringer wasn't going to be happy about her not being there as a target for his verbal darts, but he couldn't argue with company policy if she needed time to recover yet from the trauma in the elevator only a couple of days ago.

She shuddered at the memory and turned to the morning sun shining over the city beyond her balcony. At least with Mychel looking out for her, she had another day to make herself stronger to resist the daemons.

She only hoped Darrac wasn't among those killed by the creature. If he had disappeared on military missions again, she would bet it was related to this new creature.

# Chapter 35

**"G** o," Mychel said. "You're entitled to your life."

Lilly smiled, glad that he understood that, although she wanted to train with him, she needed time with her friends to reclaim a sense of normalcy, if there was such a thing anymore.

She uncovered the receiver on her comm unit and said into it, "Trish. I'll be there."

Finally, a chance to reconnect with the world she knew. She clicked off the link and looked up at the sun nearly at its zenith for the day. From the city beyond the balcony where they sat came the occasional rise of voices and whooshing of vehicles.

Mychel sat facing her, his sword poking up on his back once again. In those blue eyes, she saw the shadow of loss and second-guessed her hasty decision to connect with a friend.

"Will you be all right?" she asked.

"I've 'lost' many friends in this war, most of them to the honor of Ascension—peace be on them." His face lit briefly in a sort of twisted pride but was only notable for the shadows haunting him, which quickly overcame that moment.

Lilly's heart sank to consider how many of his friends might have parted this life and remembered: "Like Jazmin?"

At that, a true flicker of hope lit up his face in a way the sun couldn't match. "Yes. Exactly like her, but there are always losses to the daemons."

Lilly shuddered and excused it as a stiff breeze passing. Winter would be on them soon; the warm days remaining counted down to that period of respite when the world slept, tucked away in its cubbies away from civilization.

"I'm sorry about your friend."

"He knew the risks. We all do, which..." Mychel gathered his legs under him and rose. "Is why I'll be close."

"Close? How close?" She wanted _some_ privacy.

At the outstretched hand he offered her, she set her hand in his and welcomed the pull that helped her to her feet.

"Only close enough to step in if there's trouble."

"All right." She supposed that was acceptable.

* * *

She supposed she could have had worse company than a daemon slayer wary of his surroundings because of recent events.

And he made sure to ask the taxi to drop them off a few blocks from the cafe where Trish suggested they meet. Lilly walked several strides ahead of Mychel down the street to the outdoor seating area, which was surrounded by an old-fashioned wrought iron fence lined with shrubbery to separate it from the narrow road traveled by the many small vehicles of carts and bikes and the occasional Peacekeeper in uniform patrolling on foot or hoverbike.

Trish excitedly waved Lilly to join her at a small table. As usual, the one friend who offered an understanding of her predicament was the only one who even showed a hint of interest in keeping in touch.

"Lilly!" her friend enthusiastically greeted with a hug to top it off. To Lilly, it seemed so normal, like her life had never changed.

But while she smiled, Lilly couldn't help but to wonder how many people walking around could be daemons in disguise or celemae or which might awaken as celemae one day.

"Thanks for calling," Lilly said with equal aplomb and took the empty chair across from Trish. "I needed to get out."

"And how much are you staying in?" The leading tone of Trish's voice matched the smirk she tried to hide in taking a sip of her clear drink.

"It's not like that."

Light brown brows pressed together in concern. "Then you're not dating that hot stranger—what was his name?"

"Darrac." Lilly hesitated and traced an odd shape on the tabletop, a blur of thoughts rushing through her mind about the last time they had snuggled and where he had gone for the last couple of days.

"I know that look."

"What look?"

Trish gasped, "You are still seeing him!"

She wasn't going to deny it. Darrac was hot, too hot for her, and considerate.

"Have you—"

"No!" Realizing how emphatically she denied the unfinished question, Lilly more calmly said, "I mean, he's not like that. He's...better."

Trish sat back with a soft snort. After a second, she slapped the tabletop. "Good for you! I knew you could get over the other one. So, life is good again."

"I guess." If one didn't count the monsters and daemons from the Shadow Realm—she kept the thought to herself and only forced a smile for her friend.

"You 'guess'? Is something wrong?"

At the cast of a shadow next to them, Lilly said, "I'll have water, please."

"I'm not here to take your order."

She knew that voice and looked up. Mychel wasn't supposed to be there, and nowhere near that quickly. He said he'd keep his distance, and she'd barely sat down with her friend.

He scanned over their heads, however.

"Wait," Trish said. "You're the guy who took Lilly from the club." Her eyes widened and she turned to Lilly. "Are you dating two guys? Lil, I didn't know you had it in you."

"No!"

"We're not dating," Mychel said and grabbed an unused chair and sat between them.

Trish gave them the accusing look.

"No. He's right. We're not dating. He's just a friend."

"Right. A friend," Mychel hastily added.

"Yeah. Not believing it, Lil."

"She's right."

Why did he have to interrupt? This was the first time since they'd met that she'd had a chance to reconnect with friends.

Mychel's eyes shifted beyond them and she turned to follow to a Peacekeeper hoverjet landing down the street where it widened. A section beneath it blurred in the distortion of light from the repulsor field.

He twisted around to a second one landing, cutting off their escape, if the Peacekeepers were coming for them. It might be nothing.

"Wait!" Trish snapped her fingers. "You're one of those guys who took down the creatures in Gowran."

The grimace on Mychel was cute and short-lived. Before Lilly could say anything, he took her hand and rose.

"Excuse us," Lilly said while being dragged away.

A few tables away, she was able to close in to him and, in a low voice, ask, "What's going on?"

He didn't say a word, but he didn't have to. She followed his eyes to the Peacekeepers in dark blue closing off each end of the street, their visors gleaming an ominous black in the sun.

"Oh." She supposed she should thank him for warning her, but she didn't like being in trouble. Life was supposed to be follow-the-rules, work hard, and try to have some fun.

Mychel left his sword sheathed and waited in the middle of the street. Lilly pressed close, wishing he had left her alone so she could be ignored. Now, it was too late.

A dozen Peacekeepers stopped in a ten-foot radius around them. One of the men said, "Mychel Viltis?"

"Yes?" A note of suspicion rang in Mychel's answer.

"You're to come with us."

"Am I in trouble?"

The man waited a couple of seconds, then said, "Commandant Renvil demands your attendance."

A wry smile crooked up his lips. "He does? Hmm." Mychel peered aside at her and squeezed her hand. "Is he ready to believe in daemons yet?"

The Peacekeepers remained unmoved and silent. The area had fallen eerily silent also. Lilly looked back to where Trish watched from the outdoor cafe—all eyes were on them. Why couldn't the authorities have confronted them at her apartment? For that matter, why couldn't Mychel have left her with Trish?

Daemons. Enough said.

Even the camera drones buzzed overhead.

"You will come with us," the man finally said.

Although she wished he would tell her to leave, she knew it wouldn't matter at that point. All eyes would be on her, riveted with questions the lips wouldn't dare speak.

Mychel's smile dropped and his fingers tightened around her hand. "I have duties here."

A pause, then the Peacekeeper said, "The young woman will come too."

"What? No!" Lilly wasn't a part of this. She didn't want to be in trouble, if that's what this was.

The Peacekeepers closed in, except for opening a path to one of the hoverjets.

Holding her hand in his steel fingers, Mychel led her towards the waiting craft. The tromp of boots followed.

Lilly dared not look aside at the staring faces in fear of recognizing anyone and stayed close to Mychel.

The awful, stomach-clenching self-consciousness eased upon setting foot in the hoverjet. She'd been in taxis and had seen videos of the space vessels but had never been in any military vehicle.

Although the purpose for being there didn't change how she felt, the technician side of her noticed various details. While the rear door closed, the Peacekeepers pressed them into side seats in the rear hold area and buckled them in before settling themselves into the other seats. Small displays over their heads showed everything from pressure in the different lines to the engines on either side to hull temperature. A couple viewers displayed camera views of the exterior surrounding the craft.

The lifting of the ship pressing her into the seat broke her study of the displays.

"Where are we going?"

Her question was ignored by the helmeted figures seated around them.

Fine. She knew how to read the data, although they probably didn't expect the average citizen to understand, or they simply didn't care. Based on their direction and the airships marked on another display with changing distances, the large carrier overshadowing the ghost region outside the city proper was their objective.

Wait. She knew that area.

Oh, no.

"Mychel." Lilly pointed at the display.

He looked up, his grim expression unchanged from the moodiness that had fallen over him since the "invitation" by the Peacekeepers.

The sidelong glance to her and the almost imperceptible dip of his chin confirmed what she recognized.

They rode the rest of the way in quietude, until the hoverjet landed on the carrier deck and the rear door opened. They stepped out into the shadow of a cloud, which could have been the weight of her mood.

The boots of their Peacekeeper entourage clapped like applause on the deck in their direct line to a con tower.

For the last few years, she had managed reports from their moon bases and organized the data into understandable information, but she'd never stepped out from her world, remaining grounded. She understood the data and the materials but seeing it up close on the carrier almost made the journey worthwhile.

Through a door at the base of the tower, they were led through a tight corridor and up a narrow staircase. It echoed back the clanging of steps in a din that she gladly left behind on an upper deck that opened into a meeting room with a table surrounded by chairs and displays all around the walls.

She stopped with Mychel at the nearest end while two of the Peacekeepers took up positions behind them at the door. Opposite them stood a man in a blue uniform decorated with several rank bars she recognized as commandant.

"You have a nice little island out here in which to hide." A hint of bitterness laced that voice.

Mychel stood unmoved. In fact—Lilly had to look closer—he didn't seem upset in the least to know they had discovered his safe house for the Pallora Fen.

"We've known for some time, watching for signs of trouble from some crime organization, especially given the source of the money to set up a security system. For the longest time, we saw no signs of trouble. People were monitored coming and going, but they never caused trouble." The man paused and looked aside at a keypad glowing beneath his hand on the smooth table surface. One of the large, upright glass viewers came to life with images of the events in Gowran. The screen next to it displayed the monstrous creature that she had seen on the reports that morning. On his viewer, it ravaged a school.

"And I'm supposed to believe that your arrival in Gowran was purely coincidence?"

"Yes."

Mychel answered far too calmly, and apparently the uniformed officer at the head of the table felt the same. His eyes narrowed. "And you had nothing to do with these creatures showing up like this?"

"No. I already told you they come from the Shadow Realm. Look for daemons. They're the real threat."

The commandant huffed and turned aside, his eyes unfocused on the screens, but behind those hard eyes, his mind contemplated a response. The two men knew each other, a story she would pry out of Mychel one day, if it wasn't revealed here.

"You don't want to believe, but they're real. The Shadow Realm is real."

A slam of the commandant's hand startled her, but Mychel didn't flinch.

"Don't play coy! There is no Shadow Realm. It's a myth conjured by renegades to excuse their illicit activities. You've been plotting this to undermine Thrissen doctrine."

Mychel took a deep breath. Despite the tension stiffening through him, he maintained an even tone when he said, "You want easy answers, but there aren't any. Sometimes the explanations we seek are hard to accept because we don't want them to be real. We want our beliefs to be proven valid and that is where we stop. Nothing else exists. But beyond that point lie the true answers to our questions."

In a quiet voice, Mychel added, "We only practice peace. These creatures are a threat to all of us."

After a couple of seconds, the commandant sneered and shook his head. "I should lock you up to spare the public your nonsense...but since you helped bring down two beasts where we could not, I can't do that without repercussions." He straightened and tugged the belted tunic tight over his chest. "However, I can give the people what they want—a hero."

Oh, no. Not Mychel. _Please not Mychel_. Lilly held her breath.

"I'll give you the chance to prove you didn't unleash this mutant lab rat on us—"

"He didn't create those things!" The outburst earned Lilly a spearing glare that clamped her mouth on the rest of her argument. She already hated this man for condemning Mychel's bravery, although she understood his skepticism since she had been there recently. Mychel had far more patience than she gave him credit.

"Another convert?"

"Someone who has seen for herself," Mychel said. "She's no concern to you. What do you want of me?"

He must have known the commandant's reason for calling him there; but she held some small speck of hope that she was wrong.

"Your companions have failed to take down this creature. We've arranged another get-together for you and several others we've identified."

Mychel's throat flashed with a swallow and, in spite of his efforts not to show it, a grimace attempted to manifest in his expression.

"The others will be here soon. I suggest you use your time to prepare to fight this thing." The commandant motioned to the two guards. "Take them to the holding area. I'm not sure what to do with her."

Lilly stared in disbelief. "I'm not a fighter. You can't make Mychel fight for you. He's not a Peacekeeper. He's a citizen—"

"He's the only one who can hurt these creatures, Miss Lowreth."

Her heart stopped. How did he know who she was, unless...

"Or the only one who can control them." The contempt in that glare directed at Mychel sent a shiver down her spine.

He thought because Mychel was able to calm the second beast at Gowran that Mychel had something to do with their appearance?

At a rough shove by the helmeted guards, she followed the guard out with his partner behind them.

The Peacekeepers guided them through narrow corridors, squeezing past others hurrying the opposite direction. While they passed through the lower decks, the increase in gravity from the thrust of engines pushed up through her body. She was glad when they opened a door to a small room with two bunks.

After a glance at the guards outside the open door, Mychel sat back on one of the bunks and crossed his legs in the pose she recognized as a preparation for meditation.

"What are you doing?"

The look that answered her made her self-conscious of the redundancy of the question.

"Preparing," he said while settling into position. "You should too."

"I don't want to meditate now. I can't focus on the training. I shouldn't be here. You should have left me with my friend."

His eyes shut, he said, "I hope you can accept my apology."

She had wanted to slap him for draggin her into this, but she couldn't stay mad. He projected an inner calm that touched her luriel spirit and spread to soothe her mood.

"I didn't want to leave you alone. There's been too much daemon activity since I saved you. I don't think they're giving up, Lilly. They want you destroyed, or they want you for something..."

His words turned her legs to jelly and she fell onto the bunk facing him. "Me? Why?"

"I don't know, but you are the strongest fledgling I've encountered. They may feel threatened by that." He opened his eyes. "That doesn't mean this is your fault. It's only a guess. The strongest luriel return to the Shadow Realm as the greatest soldiers. That is something daemons can't allow, and perhaps wish to study."

"Stop, Mychel." She pulled her knees up to her chin on the bunk and grasped around her legs, wishing she could block out the world—the odd chemical smells of the cabin, the faint hum of the engines, the panic pressing in on her like the walls of that small room.

"I'm sorry, but you need to hear it." He paused and dropped his head. "Lilly, I may not survive this."

"Shut it." She didn't want to hear that. He had to survive. She still needed him.

Mychel took a deep breath. "I've been doing some investigating. You know I don't trust this Darrac."

What? Where did this come from? Why couldn't he let her have that life?

Anger struck through her at the unspoken accusation. "He's not a daemon!"

"Lilly—"

"No, Mychel!"

"There was a daemon named Darrac in the Falamoer, the writings of Alethea. He led his own armies against mankind, killing men, women, and children. I saw the passage myself."

"No!" She refused to listen to this garbage. "Darrac is a good man. Why are you so hung up on him?!"

She jumped from the bunk and stomped to the door.

"I hope I'm wrong." His somber voice was like a pin pricking her finger.

She would prove he was wrong, if they survived and Darrac returned from wherever he'd been sent. Still, she shuddered at the slim chance that Mychel was right.

No. He was wrong, had to be.

She looked up at the guns aimed at her and the hidden faces behind the helmet visors. "I'm unarmed. I just need fresh air." And some distance from Mychel and his suspicious mind.

Darrac was a good man. He couldn't be a daemon. He'd taken care of her, not hurt her. The daemons had tried to kill her. That wasn't the Darrac she knew.

She would prove it to Mychel.

Damn you, Mychel.

# Chapter 36

**T** he old book of the Pallora Fen did indeed carry some interesting passages. Darrac flipped another page of the illuminated text on the table under the steady glow of the lantern.

He was mentioned in the book several times, glorious in his victories. The descriptions added color to the faded memories from long ago. He had forgotten many of the details. The book filled them in, but not the way he would expect.

The language of the scribe who had written about the battles left him sober. The expressions described him to be a beast or monster, heartless, and savage. Daemons were not heartless. They fought for a purpose that the humans didn't understand because of the misconceptions planted by the luriel. Daemons were driven to win their complete freedom, but the Pallora Fen refused to see the truth.

And they misled Lilly.

Lilly...

A part of him longed to be near her, to caress her soft skin, hold her slender body close, breathe in her intoxicating scent—

"No!"

In a rage, he pounded his fists on the book. The lantern clattered and wobbled on the desk but settled again.

The sounds echoed back to him in microseconds, magnifying in the study. A moment later, all settled into quiet once more.

But Darrac noticed something else—the trembling of his hands.

What was wrong with him? What was happening?

He looked down at the passage he had been reading about one of the defeats of the worshipers of the luriel at the hands of the magi under his leadership. He had been that general of men and daemons whose guidance had ushered in an age of virtually no celemae. That had been his doing, the respected frael.

Now, he was losing himself and his position in the ranks of Velok.

It had to be Lilly, but she had done nothing, or at least not consciously. She was too naïve.

Staying away from her these past two days had been the hardest trial; he could have been an addict trying to cleanse himself of a poison. He had to stay away, to sever the bonds she had sealed upon him.

While he was there, the Fen were training her, making her stronger. He would be forced to give up and admit defeat, to return to Velok a failure.

That wasn't an option. He would succeed, somehow. But without her, he saw no chance. With her came other risks he hadn't anticipated.

A knock on the door drew him from the turmoil inside. "Enter."

The heavy wooden door creaked open to reveal the pale and always worried face of the young Mage Larus. "My lord. I...ah..."

"Speak!" He was in no mood for stammering or for their interruptions. Like flies on a carcass, the magi hung on him, which was why he had resorted to hiding himself away and losing himself in an aura of the past through the words of the text.

"Y—Yes...My lord, we have an update on the mortas _._ " The mage waited, his shoulders rounded and hunched in fear.

Finally, some news to interest him. "Go on."

Larus pulled a piece of paper from beneath the wide sleeve of his robe and unfolded it with an irritating rustle. "We intercepted a communication from the carrier _TRAS Havoc_. It said they've retrieved 'several individuals, including those who killed the monsters in Gowran and are repositioning near the last sighting of the new flying creature', which Archmage Harrel assumes means the mortas."

"Have they given the names of those individuals?" They must have meant the slayers, and if Mychel was among them, that one would be out of his way from competing for Lilly.

A vise clenched around his heart—it shouldn't have been possible to feel that human—his breath stuck in his throat.

"Several, Lord Darrac."

"You have them?"

Larus nodded and held the paper up. "Digkiv Eirhkin, Malika Timov, Mychel Viltis..."

So, Mychel was among them. Perfect. The slayer was away from Lilly.

"And a woman who happened to accompany Mychel Viltis. Her name is—"

"Lilly."

"Yes." Larus's brows pressed into a curious expression.

The world stopped around Darrac in that moment. His plan would backfire if he lost her.

He would never forgive himself if he lost her.

In a blink, the room disappeared and he found the mortas resting in the ruins of a town with the carrier already a dot over the horizon. The light of the luriel in the celemae approached.

* * *

Mychel was only speculating. He didn't know. He'd admitted that.

And she'd been doing so well in her meditation before the intrusion at the door.

Lilly took a deep breath and gazed at the clouds so close outside the window that she imagined reaching out and touching them. The guards had allowed her a chance to keep some distance between her and Mychel. The woman in uniform somewhere behind her could have been invisible if not for her breathing.

In the quiet of the observation deck, she closed her eyes again. Mychel had been right about one thing—she could prepare for his battle with the creature by meditating. The contact with the luriel spirit inside her provided solace and a connection that chased away the loneliness of Darrac's absence, the anger of Mychel's accusation, and the fear that Mychel was right. The way of the luriel had cooled her anger and her worries.

She was still troubled, however, and continued to return to Mychel's statement about Darrac being a daemon and the daemon's wanting her for something. If that was the case, they obviously wanted her alive. But what could their purpose possibly be when they were sworn to kill all celemae?

She needed a way to probe Darrac for answers without upsetting him. If his name was purely coincidence, then she didn't want to anger him. If he was a daemon, then being discovered might make him likely to kill her to keep his secret.

If only this could be easy. She could really use some answers from the luriel.

Focus.

Lilly breathed deeply and focused once more on the piece of luriel attached to her soul. Like a cool splash of water, it washed away the tangle of thoughts and emotions in her mind, leaving it clear and peaceful...

Out of the light, a city coalesced in vibrant hues.

"Ershan Soroya."

The woman with the dark hair turned with a young man of shoulder height, a strong resemblance to her in the refinement of his features but with the masculine details of a somewhat wider face and heavier brow emerging with maturity, features that looked too familiar. Where the light seemed to have disappeared from the woman's eyes, a mischievous glint in the boy's hinted of the youthful ambition of a life not touched by the hardships of maturing beyond the oversight of parents.

Facing the pair, Lo'Rella licked her lips, her eyes on the boy. "It is too risky."

Soroya's faced hardened. "You've given up already?"

"Our preliminary tests indicate that to use this form of power may result in disastrous consequences."

"May. It also bears the potential to replace the nuonir, does it not?" Soroya looked aside at the young man next to her.

"Yes, but—"

"Then continue testing. The plants must continue their output. It is our future."

"Yes, Ershan, but it could be our end."

"It's a risk, Lo'Rella. I know." Soroya's hands curled around the boy's shoulders. "My son is one of the last of us. Our society diminishes. This city is all that remains of our civilization."

"The consequences of tampering with immortality."

"I understand," Soroya said. "The Un'dei can potentially correct what we made wrong?"

"I believe it is possible."

"Then, for the sake of our progeny, it must be studied or we are all damned." A wistful smile on her face, Soroya ruffled the boy's hair with her hand.

Lo'Rella let out a heavy sigh and bowed her head to each of the pair. "Yes, Ershan Soroya. Dar."

Lilly snapped her eyes open, searching beyond the topaz sky and puffy clouds for a sign of reality. The vision couldn't be real. Could the luriel manipulate visions?

A strong negative sense passed through her.

Slowly, she rose to her feet, her eyes searching the sky for something she knew she wouldn't find out there.

"What does it mean?" she asked under her breath. Her Darrac, Soroya's Dar, had been a part of an unfamiliar world.

Or the Shadow Realm.

But she hadn't seen him as a daemon in the vision, unless it was Ahlias in a long-forgotten past.

How she wished she could interpret the visions.

Mychel might know.

But that meant admitting he was right, or partially right, and that Darrac wasn't from their world, or realm.

"What are you?" She asked the question to the air that she would like to ask him.

Damn Mychel. She didn't want him to be right. She longed for the bliss of ignorance. But she needed to know. She needed to see Mychel.

Lilly met the guard at the door. "I need to join my friend."

Without a word, the guard gave a curt nod and stepped aside. She passed through the door to another Peacekeeper guard, who took up the lead through the narrow corridors inside the carrier.

The route was different, even if in reverse. They didn't take her to the same room where she had left Mychel.

Lilly puzzled over whether to point out the fact when the door opened on a different room similar to where they had met the commandant. Across the long table, half a dozen men and a woman huddled around one of the displays. Heads turned slightly upon her entrance, except for a familiar face that led the whole body around.

"Mychel." In the spotlight of their stares, Lilly forgot her relief in finding him. "What's going on?"

He indicated a woman on the end with the darkest complexion. "Meet Malika, Kano, Diggs..." He twisted around to his other side. "...Roan, Trace, and you remember the commandant."

Yes, she did, and not favorably. "Slayers?"

"Except for one." His eyes shot across to the scowling Peacekeeper. "We've been called together on this."

Upon a glimpse of the moving picture on the display behind him, she approached along the side of the table farthest from the commandant. "At least you won't be alone."

The corners of his mouth twitched.

"I was hoping we could talk about something else...privately," she said.

He met the glances of each of the slayers and received mostly shrugs, except the woman, who gave him a knowing wink and a nod. It wasn't like that, but they could think what they wanted.

"We're almost there, Lilly. When this is over, we'll talk."

"Is this the fledgling you mentioned?" The man he identified as Diggs wore a small scar on his chin where none of the dark shadow of stubble grew, but it didn't deter from that warm aura of likability that hung about him.

"This is Lilly."

"It is a pleasure, Lilly." He offered both hands palm up in the common greeting.

Although shy, she set her palms on his.

"May this day grant you peace."

"Thank you." She slid her hands away, uncertain how to respond to his remark. "It's nice to meet you all, I only wish the circumstances were different."

"As do we," Malika said. She pointed to the images on the display behind them. "This thing will not be like the first pair from the Shadow Realm."

An almost-growl emanated from the throat of the commandant.

Malika leaned close and said, "Don't mind him. He doesn't believe in daemons, but the stiff jackets have led him to believe in us. That's what matters."

Lilly liked this woman, who wore two swords sheathed at her hips and a dagger next to one of them. Thick of muscle throughout her body and well-proportioned beneath the fitted top and belted pants, Malika gave her the impression of a physical strength to match the men. She projected so much of the idea of a warrior that Lilly had a hard time believing her to be a celemae on the road to Ascension. The serenity of the path that she had learned so far contrasted with what she was learning about the slayers.

They continued a discussion that must have been ongoing for some time before her arrival. She listened to their strategy but only in the hopes of a moment with Mychel to tell him about the vision and ask if it was possible. In spite of her best efforts not to hear the commandant's ideas and Roan's experiences in his last battle with the creature, she grew disheartened by the discussion and stared ahead in dread with the distance closing on the location of the creature.

When the announcement of their arrival came over the ship comm system, she grimaced.

Mychel let the others file out before him, holding back with her until even the commandant stepped out.

His lips pressed together for a second in which she debated whether to tell him about the vision or to wait so it wouldn't distract him from the danger posed by the creature. But if he died, she wouldn't know.

"I had a vision—"

"I'm sorry—"

Both of them paused upon realizing they had spoken at once.

After a few seconds, he blinked and asked, "What vision?"

"After our argument, I thought about what you said and was trying to meditate when I realized that maybe the source of the visions I've had could provide an answer."

"And did it?"

"Maybe. They showed me something."

His smile beamed. "I'm proud of you Lilly. You're almost ready for Enlightenment. Whatever happens to me today, I know you'll be all right." His hand on her shoulder should have filled her with pride, but instead, his words cast a cloud over her mood.

"No. I won't. I don't know how to fight daemons. And...There is something about Darrac. I saw him, much younger with...his mother. She was in a prior vision with the same...researcher, or whatever they were, to study some strange magic that they talked about, a power. There was something wrong because of some immortality."

The smile melted from his face with her explanation, transforming into something serious and intense.

"That's why I had to see you before you...before you leave." She stopped herself from saying it. She didn't want to consider him dying and didn't want him to think about it, although from what they had seen on the viewer that morning, it was a very real possibility.

"I can't make sense of it. Why would I see him among these other people? What does it mean, Mychel?"

His gaze blurred into something distant.

"Mychel?" She'd lost him to his thoughts.

He shook it off and refocused on her. "I have to go. We'll discuss this when I return." He pushed past her and hurried to the door before she realized how fast he'd moved.

"But—"

He stopped at the door. "I'll be back. Be careful, Lilly." A second later, he vanished through the door.

Lilly sprinted after him. If he'd been right about the first vision, that she had been seeing scenes from before the Sundering, the event that created the luriel and daemons, what did that mean about Darrac? Had he been one of them?

If he was...

Lilly slowed down with the guards accompanying her after the answers she didn't want solidified in her mind, and Mychel proved too fast to catch.

She didn't want to believe that Darrac was a daemon. She didn't want Mychel to be right, unless the vision was wrong; but how could it be?

They emerged into the top deck and open air in time for several small aircraft to rush from a lower deck. The line of craft circled around in the sky to take up a chevron formation.

Mychel and the others hurried towards one of a handful of hoverjets at the far edge of the carrier's upper deck.

He stepped into the dark hold with the others and, without a look to her, was sealed in.

# Chapter 37

**B** efore the Sundering...

Mychel hardly noticed the pressure of liftoff from the carrier deck. And, like him, the other slayers sat in their own centers of focus before the battle.

If Lilly's vision was true, Darrac was one of the original daemons.

For her sake, Mychel was sorry he had suggested it. She deserved a better life than the heartbreak, and it would be one like no other.

He should have said something before leaving, but he'd been too terrified of the truth while being both proud of her for what she had accomplished and afraid of what such abilities meant.

What else might the luriel communicate to her?

Could he take her to reach Tae'undir and use the bridge again? Would the luriel on the other side answer them when they seemed so aloof and resistant to helping them the first time?

He had to try. They could return to Noren City by lev-rail and stop at Tae'undir on the way there. The problem would be bypassing Gowran, although other tracks should have picked up the slack.

First, he had to survive this nearly undefeatable creature set loose on their world.

"Hey, Mike."

He blinked from the stupor and lifted his eyes to Roan strapped in across from him in the hold. The man pulled out one of the spear points sheathed along his chest and grabbed one of several six-inch tubes lined up along his belt.

A nearly four-foot spear shaft shot into existence from the tube in Roan's hand and he proceeded to lock in the spear head. The short spear gave Roan an advantage of distance from a daemon, like Mychel's sword, while keeping the power flowing to destroy it completely.

"What's with the fledgling? Are you..." The suggestive look finished the statement with worse implication than words.

"No! I was training her when Renvil's men showed up." He checked the Peacekeepers stationed on either side of their party but saw no reactions at mention of their commanding officer, although the helmets hid their faces and any disapproval.

"Sweet girl," Malika said from his left.

Yes, she was. Too sweet and trusting, but Lilly was learning quickly.

"We're almost there," the pilot said from the cockpit. Through the window before the pilot and copilot, Mychel made out the crater where the creature stirred from its rest.

"Time to put on a show, boys and girls," Diggs said from next to Roan. He adjusted the brim of his hat and plucked the taut bowstring.

A show for the Peacekeepers.

Mychel didn't need that. He would be fighting to protect Lilly and the future of their world.

* * *

Hidden in the shade of the ruins behind his resting pet, Darrac watched the airship and the opportunity it presented. The carrier lingered high above, a bulky shadow in the sky out of range of the battle.

The power of his home realm approached on that hoverjet dropping towards them. He would expect that the celemae on board did not include Lilly, but she was near. Her presence beckoned him with its alluring connection. Not from the transport craft; rather, from behind it.

The carrier.

That meant Mychel was indeed near.

Victory never taunted him so fully. The slayer could die, leaving Lilly to him. And then Velok would be his to rule and the war his to win.

"Rise. Eliminate those who seek your death." The words wove a spell around the mortas.

It lifted leathery wings and flapped the pairs in opposite directions.

Although not as large as the carnoc, the mortas was sleek and agile. It opened its wide jaws and let out a low, gurgling growl at the incoming craft.

Talons on the front and hind feet crunched over rubble with each step clear of its temporary nest.

Four wings flapped into a swift frenzy that lifted the snarling creature into the sky.

Darrac had only to wait and watch the territorial flyer take out the invaders. The spoils would be his for the taking.

* * *

"Hold on!"

The pilot's warning gave him only a moment. Mychel was thrown in his harness like the others from the craft's sudden tilt.

"Just get us on the ground!" Diggs called.

"It won't do any good if that thing crushes us, eats us, or reduces us to an acid puddle the instant we set foot outside."

Malika was right, but they weren't doing any good this way.

"Is crashing any better?" Trace asked.

The craft plummeted, leaving Mychel's stomach back in the air. The correction was no better.

They clutched the handholds above their heads for stability.

While the craft tumbled about with the skill of the pilot in dodging the creature pursuing them, Mychel had a glimpse of several small fighters firing on the creature.

"We're no good in here," Roan said. His one prepared spear tumbled aside, making Mychel glad he'd left his sword sheathed. If not for the harnesses, they'd all be bouncing around with broken bones and cuts.

"I can't keep this up." Diggs grimaced, his face pale.

"Agreed." Mychel's stomach threatened to give up its contents. "Time for a new plan."

Malika turned to him in question and the others followed her lead. Even Trace, the ex-Peacekeeper, stared in expectation.

"I don't have a plan. I just thought we needed some ideas."

"Jumpers," Trace said.

Roan turned to him, looking sickly after another strike jostled them against their restraints and headrests.

"No one is suited. And the Peacekeepers can't hurt these things," Mychel said. "That's why we're here."

Trace grinned. "And this one flies, Mike. No one on the ground was able to get an advantage. I still think it's most vulnerable from on top, like we discussed earlier. One of us has to take a chance."

"You'll need a distraction," Malika said.

"You volunteering?"

"No one else is." She looked about at each of them and shrugged.

"Great. Let's do this." Trace reached across the front of Diggs to the nearest Peacekeeper. "Tell the pilot to return to the carrier."

The man in the helmet passed on the message to the pilot's comm.

"You're sure about this?" Roan asked.

Trace shrugged with his usual air. When the man set on a task to complete, he made it happen, which was partly why he was an excellent slayer. As an ex-Peacekeeper, he had the training to make this work.

"We'll get this. Mike, you make sure that girl gets her Enlightenment ceremony."

He gave a nod, smiling at the thought of Lilly achieving the next stage. He'd be proud when that time came. "I will. Don't get killed."

Trace grinned. "I won't."

While the creature seemed to have backed off amid the frenzy of fire from the fighter escort, they sat in silent contemplation until the carrier came into view through the HUD display of the front glass.

The skill of the pilot settled the craft to a soft landing, and the back ramp lowered. The clicking of harnesses accompanied the rush of fresh air.

With the others, Mychel rushed from the hoverjet to the deck and stared in disbelief. From the con tower ran Lilly. What was she doing? She should have been inside, where it was safe.

"Mychel! Watch out!"

He whirled to see the creature drop with a heavy thump onto the craft they had just vacated. Its tusks or pincers—or whatever they were around its salivating mouth—opened. Its claws speared through the metal body of the craft.

Mychel pulled his sword at the same time that the others armed themselves and backed away.

The creature whipped its tail. The clink against the hoverjet drew his attention to the bulb that ended in a pointed tip. Several lines of bony ridges formed the bulb, tapering to the point. From the sound it made when hitting metal, that tail would hurt.

"Watch out for the tail!" he called out to the others.

"I see that," Roan said from his left.

The creature opened its drooling mouth and let out a gurgling growl. A line of saliva oozed from the pincer tusks to hiss and bubble on the hull of the craft.

Acid or something instantly corrosive. He hoped it didn't spit like the reports had indicated.

Mychel adjusted his grip on the sword hilt.

The creature crept towards them onto the deck of the carrier, flecks of saliva leaving divots in the surface material.

Green eyes shaped like hour-glasses moved independently of one another from their positions near the front sides of its head. It tracked all of them but could also focus on one target to move in for the kill.

Wings folded close to its long body, fitting between two pairs of legs. Now, it made him think of an ugly lizard.

"So, who's going to go first?"

Malika had to be joking.

"The ground plan," Trace called.

The creature jerked its head aside and growled at him.

"Maybe Mike can charm it like he did the others."

Diggs wasn't funny and Mychel was about to tell him, when the creature flapped into the air over their heads.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Roan's spear left his hands, grazed the rough skin, and clattered uselessly to the deck.

The creature slammed down to the deck and whirled. Its tail whipped at them. Mychel jumped just out of its reach, but Diggs wasn't so lucky and was knocked into Roan.

While the two of them untangled, Trace took advantage of the creature's distraction.

But it wasn't so easily fooled and jumped into the air.

"Hey, ugly! Get back here." Malika jumped towards the tail with both swords, but by the time she was ready to slice through it, the creature whirled and caught her in its pincers.

It moved swifter than anyone had anticipated, although the videos had provided a small hint.

The woman had little chance to scream; powerful jaw muscles closed the points in on her and the creature shook away her broken, lifeless body and snarled. It hunched like a cat ready to pounce, ignoring the bloody carcass, and whipped its tail side to side.

Mychel had seen the violence that men could incur on others, but the streets had hardly prepared him for her death.

"Oh, Gods."

The voice was too close for comfort. Why was she still there? Without taking an eye off the creature, he said, "Lilly? Lilly, get out of here. Get somewhere safe. Go now!"

An instant later, the creature shifted its attention and growled. With the same swiftness in which it had attacked Malika, it leapt past Mychel, who swung at it but barely scratched the tough hide nearly out of his reach by the time his sword sliced down.

In that moment that he whirled on it, horror struck his heart.

Lilly had run, but it had attracted the creature's attention. This was his fault for telling her to run. She had been right to not make any sudden movements. He saw too late that it had attracted the attention of the predator, and he'd been a fool. If she had stayed inside, this wouldn't be happening.

And he might be dead without her warning.

He sprinted after it, but the creature was fast on those short legs, and that tail whipped along behind its undulating movement.

"Lilly, run!"

He'd never make it, and all the firepower of the Peacekeepers did nothing but tickle it. Their energy signature was wrong. Worse than nothing, it only seemed to anger the creature, which was closing the distance on Lilly and ignoring the soldiers completely.

"Faster, Lilly!"

The tromp of footsteps followed behind him, but he didn't have to look back to know the other slayers had picked up the pursuit.

In his heart, he begged the luriel to intercede if they could. A spear sailed past him but only poked the hind leg of the creature, hardly enough to slow it down.

She was still far from the door to safety within the hold of the carrier. She wouldn't make it; the creature closed too fast.

He couldn't lose her. Not like this.

The cold hit him in the blink of a moment before the murky black cloud concealed the creature; the suffocating darkness of a daemon.

The creature let out a teeth-rattling shriek.

Mychel halted and the others joined him.

"Daemon!" Trace's bare arms bulged with muscles ready to attack.

Mychel put an arm before him with a strange suspicion gnawing at his insides. "Wait."

They watched the cloud swirling and bubbling like water in a full boil.

In seconds, it dissipated, leaving nothing but the claw marks and acid-saliva pocks in the carrier deck.

Lilly stood in shock, her body clearly shaking even from twenty feet away.

"Lilly," Mychel gasped and sprinted to her, too late to catch her from collapsing to her hands and knees on the deck.

"Lilly." He dropped next to her, afraid that the daemon had done something. However, when he pulled her to sit up, she looked up with a horrified expression.

"Mychel." She flung her arms around him, her body shaking against his.

He held her close, wishing only to steady her and support her. The sniff that came from her face mashed into his shoulder shattered him. He should have left her with her friend.

"It's okay," he murmured. When the shadows of several figures closed in, he waved them off. Now was the worst time for questions and attention, for either of them.

Her trembling against him fueled feelings of protection. Although he had felt obliged to protect her like any slayer to his charge, that had morphed since then into something else. He held her tight, wanting to reassure her that he was there and would always keep her safe, but he had almost failed and, in that, held her for his own reassurance.

"You're safe, Lilly. It's gone."

She shook her head and looked up at him, her lips quivering. "No. I saw it." Her voice choked to a bare whisper. "I saw the red eyes, like the cloud in the elevator and above my bed. It was a daemon. I felt it."

He had too and stared into her eyes that begged for a different explanation, one he couldn't give. He could only shake his head.

"You're alive. That's all that matters."

"What if..." She sniffed. Seeing the pain on her face was the last thing he wanted, but he couldn't avoid it. "What if it was him?" she whispered. "What do they want?"

"I don't know." But he was going to find out. Whatever the reason for keeping her alive was as bad as killing her.

Her sniffling grew less and she adjusted next to him to sit up on her own.

Across the deck, the others tended to Malika's body.

Darrac would answer some questions when they met again.

# Chapter 38

**D** amn them all!

Darrac stood on the bridge of Keigan Castle in his full, imposing form.

The slayers had tricked him by bringing Lilly with them. The mortas could have killed them and left her alone. Instead, they had brought her.

He couldn't have let it destroy her. When it had taken after her, when he had seen the threat of losing her, an indisputable urge to protect her had taken over. He had acted without thinking.

He should have let the mortas take her. There would be other celemae.

But he couldn't. He could not have learned what made her different, and something inside him wouldn't let her come to any harm.

And now the Pallora Fen knew she was a target for his purposes.

As would Torek.

Although he resisted the urge to punch the wall in his anger, which would only reduce his safe haven in the Gray Realm to rubble, he let it out in a roar that only served to rattle the stones.

"My lord!"

He huffed the rest and peered down at the man, who uncovered his ears.

"My lord, have we done something wrong?" Saul asked.

They hadn't, but he had.

Darrac stepped from the bridge and shrank to the human form he'd grown comfortable wearing.

"Keep working!" he barked and stormed off.

He needed their support. Killing them to make himself feel better served no purpose when they could prove useful in fixing this mess.

This was his fault. Had he finished Lilly off immediately, she would never have had the chance to get inside him.

His steps faltered through the corridor, mimicked in the echo.

Was there something about continuing to feed on a celemae long term that changed a daemon?

No. He'd absorbed many and never had this happen.

There must have been an explanation for why this was happening. If anyone knew, the Pallora Fen would have used it sooner, unless they had discovered it long ago and had forgotten.

The book.

Darrac stomped through the corridors, past the rubble of time's ravages, and reached the study where he had left the book. On the small desk near the window, the book lay open on the last page he had read.

Studying its passages, however, would take time; time he didn't have to waste when Lilly awaited.

He stared at the tome and its yellowed pages, fighting the calling inside him. The need to return to her grew more insistent.

She would need comforting after her fright and the thought of her in the arms of the celemae speared through him, releasing a rage towards the other man, Mychel. He didn't doubt she was with him now.

Darrac needed to reach her, privately.

The comm unit.

He'd been using one of the comms from the thugs he'd fed upon when first taking that mission.

It was still next to the book, where he'd been when the mage interrupted with news about the slayers and Lilly.

He hurried to snatch it and entered her code.

A few seconds later, a voice said, "Hello?"

Her voice nearly stole his and he had to swallow before he could find it. "Lilly, it's Darrac."

"Darrac?" The excitement that usually carried her voice when she spoke to him had drained, replaced with a note of caution. Something had changed.

"Yes. I need to see you. I saw...Are you all right?"

Her sigh carried over the sensitive receiver from her end. "How bad did it look?"

"You survived. That's what matters. How are you? Are you hurt?"

"No. Thankfully. I'm all right now."

"Now?" What about earlier? Why had he thought that turning the mortas loose would help?

"I was so scared, Darrac." Her voice lowered to barely above a whisper, and in that moment he felt a new emotion that made him wish he was there to hold her and comfort her, to be the one she trusted to erase the fear. The full impact of her dependence on him hit.

"I'm sorry, Lilly. I shouldn't have left you."

"I know you have your duties, but...I'll be home tomorrow, I think. The Peacekeepers are keeping us for questions for a little while longer."

"Can I meet you sooner? You were in the east but live on the west coast of the republic. Can the Peacekeepers drop you off somewhere between?"

"You'd do that for me?"

"I need to see you."

After a pause, he could see in his mind the smile that lifted her voice when she said, "I'd like that. Let me check with the commandant. I'll call you back. All right?"

"I'll be waiting." And trying not to think about the time passing, time in which other daemons could be plotting to undo what he hoped to achieve.

"I'll make it quick." The link clicked off and Darrac lowered the comm from his cheek.

It was done. He would see her again soon.

A part of him rejoiced at the thought, but the daemon inside cursed him for being weak. Daemons were independent. They didn't need anyone.

Being with her just a few times had changed him and he wanted an answer why. Seeing her again might give him a chance to probe her luriel.

But seeing her again might very well seal his own demise in the luriel's snare. Lilly had an innocence about her that made it hard to believe she could be doing any of this on purpose; it could only be the luriel. That innocence also inspired him to keep her alive, to protect her. It had been there from the beginning, working on him. It had happened in the elevator when he had devoured the human ready to attack her and again with the mortas. His own mistakes had led him to rescuing her, to revealing a resistance within himself to dispose of her.

He would soon see for himself, if he didn't succumb further to this.

Darrac caught his breath at the jolt that passed through him at the thought of being close to her. What was happening?

The only way to learn was to see her again, and the sooner that happened and he could resolve this, the better for all of them and the war.

Until the time came to meet, he could continue through the book and his search for any secrets of what the Pallora Fen knew, a small distraction to subdue his anticipation.

# Chapter 39

**M** ychel wasn't going to like this. She had her doubts about seeing Darrac again, yet she had to know with certainty.

If daemons were so bad, why had he spared her life?

He couldn't be terrible.

Yes. She would tell Mychel, but only after she made her request with the commandant to drop her off somewhere between there and Noren City. The carrier was fast and the trip wouldn't take long, once they left that region.

Lilly turned from the window looking out over the peaceful sky of Ahlias and the fear of what other creature might appear but paused at the sight of her escorts waiting with guns now holstered—she wasn't a threat or a prisoner.

Maybe she could talk Darrac into stopping the madness. If he was one of them, he wasn't what she had learned from Mychel; he might listen to her. She had to try.

She had to see him and dig out the truth, whatever that was.

"I need to see your commandant," she said with more confidence than she felt.

The soldiers looked to one another through those dark visors hiding their faces and one gave a nod and passed on the message over his helmet comm.

A few seconds later, he said, "This way."

She followed through the ugly corridors that reminded her why she wanted to get off that ship—too gray, basic, and tight. She never would have made it on one of the moon bases if they were this utilitarian.

A second later, the thought flashed through her head of how any fledglings fared on the bases. Those on the no-atmosphere moons with their light gravity would have no defense. Although she doubted any of the Enlightened celemae were there, she'd have to ask Mychel for a definitive answer.

But that was the least of her worries. She was on the homeworld with enough troubles to tackle because of the luriel inside her.

The guards took her to a closed door and tapped a pad next to it.

"Commandant," the guard said.

The door slid open to reveal the man behind a desk with several displays between them. Through the clear viewers, the writing to her looked to be in reverse, but it would be correct from his side.

Commandant Renvil turned from one of those displays to her.

"Miss Lowreth. Please join me." The greeting sounded thin and insincere.

Nevertheless, Lilly stepped through the door, which closed behind her, cutting off the guards.

"I've been wanting to speak with you."

"You have?"

"Yes." He rose and stepped around the desk. "About your involvement with these self-described slayers."

"Oh...I'm not one of them, if that's—"

He put a hand up. "No. I understand. You don't fit their mold." He leaned back against his desk. "Mychel Viltis has a record of trouble. You, however, are a model citizen. In fact..." He reached over and touched one of the displays, keyed an entry, and tapped an icon to reverse its display on the viewer.

Lilly swore her stomach dropped at the video recording showing her in the elevator.

"You had a perfect life until he disrupted it. Am I correct?"

She supposed...maybe...

He touched the screen controls and pulled up several videos of her, including her panicked run from her apartment door. At least she had the privacy of her own apartment. However, another showed Jazmin arriving at her door. Yet another showed her slip into the temple with Mychel apparently watching. Several others showed her at the club, on her balcony with Mychel, and ordinary activities of the ordinary life she had been forced to abandon.

Her heart slid into resignation to see how much of her life he had studied. It had been so easy to believe she lived her own life, to forget the cameras everywhere, but he reminded her just how closely they were monitored by the information authority.

"It wasn't perfect," she murmured, recalling the pain of Rian's departure. It had been perfect when he loved her, but when that ended, it had thrown her life into turmoil. "In a way, he helped me."

The commandant's face hardened. "How can a trouble-maker help such a lovely young woman?"

Not knowing how to respond, she shrugged. After a second to digest this unexpected news, curiosity led her to ask, "What did he do?"

He turned and keyed up several new recordings. The scenes of a different Mychel made her wish she hadn't asked.

"He's different now." Her protest sounded weak compared to the damning evidence against him. Could the luriel have changed him that much from the rich, selfish brat surrounded by thugs that the commandant showed her?

"Is he? Or is that just what he wants you to believe?"

"I don't..." Lilly shook her head. Mychel had been kind to her, if a little annoying in his insistence. The commandant was even more annoying in his ignorance. "I don't believe you."

When she met the commandant's gaze, it had darkened. And then she recognized this tactic, the same that Deringer used to manipulate her and all the others under his heavy hand. "The Mychel I know is a good man. Why are you trying to vilify him?"

The jaw sawed back and forth, and Commandant Renvil rose to his full height. He finally shook his head with a look that erased the false charm. "I see he has converted you like so many others."

Lilly stared in disbelief. "Are you blind to what happened earlier? The monster and the daemon—"

"What daemon? I saw a cloud that enveloped the creature and then it vanished. For all I know, the whole battle was staged and the cloud, a failsafe engineered by these rogues."

The man was dense, one of those like she had been, content to their own world, where everything ran by logic and numbers, cold and factual and easy to verify.

"I need to know the truth, Miss Lowreth."

"You saw the truth. Malika died defending that truth. Why isn't that good enough?"

"Because it's my job to defend against threats to this world, and it's far too convenient that these creatures can't be killed by our firepower but simple weapons can bring them down. And at least one has proven some submission to Mychel. That's far too convenient, don't you agree?"

Maybe, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

"I'd like to get off this carrier." She'd had enough of his accusations.

The commandant studied her, and she grew more uncomfortable in his presence with each passing second. When she thought she might be thrown in the brig, he huffed and returned to the other side of his desk.

"Very well," he said curtly. "I have no reason to hold you. I do, however, suggest you use the opportunity to sever ties with these Pallora Fen before it is too late."

"Too late for what?"

He said nothing but made a few entries on two of his screens. "I will arrange a hoverjet to return you to Noren City."

"What about Mychel?"

The commandant said nothing, but when she lingered, he looked up and said, "You're excused, Miss Lowreth. You will be contacted when your transport is ready."

She marched out with the guards assigned to her.

Cold, calculating, and ignorant; having seen the whole event with his own eyes, the commandant still didn't believe.

And she didn't appreciate his unwillingness to accept that a person could change. Obviously, Mychel had. He wasn't that ruthless, selfish playboy that the images had shown—women on each arm, drinking, and starting fights. He'd changed. She didn't even know that person. The Mychel she knew had been the complete opposite.

In the middle of one of the corridors, she stopped and twisted to the guard behind her. "I need to see him—Mychel."

The man hesitated. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the nod on the face of the lead guard. The rear guard motioned with his head to move on.

She obeyed in the hopes that they took her to wherever the slayers were being held. Apparently not considering her a threat, they let her move freely where the guards approved.

They took her to an area that sank her heart. Through a door that required their authorization to unlock, she encountered several guards with weapons in hand standing attentive at a line of doors with slats at eye height.

"Mychel Viltis," one of her guards said. At that, another stepped aside from his place next to the second door down.

Lilly stopped before it.

"Knock when you're done," the guard said and entered a code on the keypad. A click followed and Lilly opened the door.

Mychel sat on a cot at the opposite end of the dreary room, his legs crossed and hands relaxed on them. The neutral expression gave way to a warm invitation. "Lilly."

"How did you know?"

The door thumped behind her.

"The connection. Your presence is very bright. These walls can't suppress the energy of the Shadow Realm." He patted the cot next to him and she accepted the invitation.

"That commandant doesn't trust you."

He looked about the room. "No. Amos and I have a history."

"He showed me." Not wanting to see the truth in his face, she watched her thumbs rubbing one over the other.

"I won't lie. I wasn't the nicest person before my Awakening, but the Pallora Fen and my luriel showed me something different. Before then, Amos was the captain of my province, not some fleet commandant. We had a few run-ins."

"That explains some of his hatred. But they think the Pallora Fen is some sort of criminal organization that threatens their authority."

He huffed with a grin on his face. "That's the daemon's influence. They want to eliminate us like they nearly did about two hundred years ago."

She knew that time period— "The Reformation?"

He nodded. "We believe the daemons have been manipulating those in power to detest religions that traditionally honored the luriel and opposed the daemons."

"Your commandant friend must be one of them."

"It doesn't take much to make those in power feel threatened into taking action against real or imaginary threats."

He was right. More and more, she was coming to agree with him, but that hint of doubt planted by the commandant shadowed the trust she had come to hold in Mychel. She hadn't known him long. There was still so much she didn't know, about him or Darrac.

After a long pause, she lifted her eyes with the real reason she had wanted to see him burning on her lips. "I'm going home. Commandant Renvil said he'd let me know when a transport was ready."

"That's kind of him, but be careful. The Peacekeepers are trained to see threats everywhere, even in the innocent."

Lilly gave a soft snort. "Where were they when you came after me?"

Mychel grimaced. "My sword was sheathed."

"You still frightened me. I didn't know you wouldn't hurt me."

"I'm sorry. I was right, though, to be protective."

Did he mean Darrac or the targeting of her in general? She waited for an explanation that didn't come and decided to let it go. He had protected her.

"Thanks for believing in me."

Mychel dropped his feet to the floor and studied her more closely, so that the need to confess what he didn't want to hear bubbled up inside her.

"Why do I feel like you're saying good-bye?"

"I'm not, or I might be. I don't know."

"Lilly..."

She let out a heavy breath and blurted, "I'm meeting Darrac. Before you say anything—" He had opened his mouth with what she expected to be an objection and warning. "—I know how you feel already, and I will be careful."

He closed his mouth and exhaled, watching her with a new interest, albeit with a hint of wariness in his eyes.

"I feel a connection to him, like it's telling me he won't hurt me. If that was him in the vision, then he wasn't always a daemon. There is a reasonable man in there. I know it."

"But he's been a daemon too long. And daemons lie, Lilly. He'll do or say anything to get what he wants from you."

"I understand," she said quietly. Anxieties exhausted themselves with the fidgeting of her hands.

Mychel stopped it by taking one of her hands in his, those blue eyes pleading. "Just do me a favor and listen to your head, not your heart. The heart can blind you."

Like Rian. She knew too well how emotions could blind one to the truth.

"Don't worry about me. I'm going to find out once and for all what he really wants."

"Please don't do this, Lilly." The way he held her hand in both of his dampened her heart. "I don't want to lose you."

Did he mean what she thought he meant?

Lilly studied his face for an answer and saw regrets and shame surfacing that had only lingered as indefinable shadows on other occasions.

"You won't. You've trained me well. I think I can handle this."

Mychel clamped his jaw and rubbed her hand between his.

"I lost a charge a few cycles ago," he said, "a young man who thought he was ready. I trusted his word, let him have some distance, and the daemons took him. He wasn't ready after three cycles of training. Lilly, you haven't had two. I know you're strong, but if Darrac is a daemon..."

He didn't have to finish. She knew the risks, but there was something about Darrac. She couldn't tell Mychel; he wouldn't understand and would likely argue.

Her fingers found the spaces between his and slid through to clasp his hand. "I know the risks," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I have to do this. I have to know what they want with me. Why did they save me—in the elevator and today? I should be dead by your reasons, but I'm not...I'm sorry about the other charge. If I die, it won't be your fault."

She slid her hand from his and stood. "If this is good bye, I wish you the best."

Before she could reach for the door, he was on his feet and his arms embraced her. "Remember everything I taught you," he whispered.

Feelings of gratitude welled up inside her and she held on to him, noticing the absence of the sword, which was probably locked up and guarded by Peacekeepers. She didn't want to go to die, but after all she had learned and seen, she wanted answers.

"I will," she said, afraid to let go, until he made the decision and released her. "Thank you, Mychel."

She stepped out without another word and took a deep breath to clear the heaviness from her chest. It was better this way—that Mychel couldn't interfere or cause a fight with Darrac that would end up with one—if not both—of them eliminated for good.

Now, she could contact Darrac and get a location to meet.

# Chapter 40

**T** he hoverjet settled in the grassy clearing, its engines winding down and the ramp dropping.

Darrac waited a safe distance away, but his feet carried him closer to the sight of Lilly standing in the sun at the top of the ramp.

She turned back long enough to make him think she had changed her mind but then stepped down into the tall grass, to his relief.

Human legs carried him to her with more steps than he liked, but when he reached her, he pulled her into his embrace. At once, the turmoil inside settled into a contentment that brought peace. He inhaled her scent tainted by the mortas and tightened his arms around the slender body as if he could undo the damage that had almost been done.

"I'm sorry." The words escaped him before he had time to consider what to say.

"For what? I'm all right." She pressed into him, a reassuring gesture of her affections. "But I was scared," she whispered.

"I was scared," he confessed. Frael didn't know fear, but he had. Something wasn't right inside him. Although it was linked to her, everything was right when he was with her now. She contradicted everything he knew about celemae.

She pulled back and studied his face, her brows pinched in confusion. "You were scared? But you're a...a soldier. What can possibly scare you?"

If only he could tell her, but he couldn't believe it himself. Rather, he caressed her face and combed away strands of hair blown by the breeze. He traced the soft lines he had memorized.

Her frown eased into a smile, until she put her hand up to his and pulled it away. "Darrac. There's something we need to talk about."

She twisted to look back at the hoverjet still idling thirty feet away. "Why are we all the way out here? There's nothing. Or are you on some sort of mission that you can finally tell me about?"

"Something like that." He glanced across the fields at the large hill that was the castle's camouflage.

"We need to talk about something." She spoke with a hesitation that sparked suspicions in his mind. "It occurred to me that I don't really know you and I...I need to know the truth."

Mychel had put ideas in her head. The Pallora Fen would be cursed to extinction! If she had stayed in Noren City, the mortas could have eliminated many of them without risking her. Mychel could be dead by now and no longer influencing her, but here she was questioning him.

And yet, she was there without her mentor, alone and vulnerable. Darrac sensed no other celemae near.

"What would you like to know?"

At that, she lifted her eyes, her face draining of color. Deep brown eyes searched his for something he suspected was suggested by the Pallora Fen. The waiting hoverjet was proof of her expectations, an escape, although it would not protect her if he wanted to hurt her. In that last chance to know the contentment he hadn't since the Sundering, he gently traced the soft lines of her cheek to her jaw.

"You know the truth." He had to say it before she asked.

He wanted to clamp his mouth shut on the rest, but the look in her eyes tugged at him to say it. Something more than the luriel touched him, a power she exerted that made it difficult to resist. "I see it in your eyes. Your Pallora Fen mentor was right."

At that, those eyes glazed with moisture and she pulled away. His heart ached to see her upset; the slayer's sword could have found its mark. He almost wished it had. It would be more merciful on him than seeing the pain he caused her now.

"I am a daemon, or was. I don't know what I am now."

Her whole body shook before him.

"Why are you doing this?" She knelt in the grass and pulled her hands from him to balance herself. "What do you want from me?"

"It's a war, Lilly. Why do any sides in a war do what they do?"

She looked up with glazed eyes and shook her head. "You killed so many people." Her voice rasped and choked with restrained tears.

"Luriel." He knelt down to her in the grass.

"And people."

The accusing disgust in her face speared through him, bleeding out shame. In that moment, he felt a new emotion, one that made him wish he could turn back the clock and change the past, but, although time in the two realms ran differently, he could not turn it back. When he had killed others, he hadn't cared about anyone.

"In any war, there are casualties."

"Why?"

"Freedom. The luriel sought to enslave daemons, forced us to serve, and we were cowed for a while, but like any group repressed, we rose against our masters. Many were defeated and struck down, but we organized and took over a section of Fal Oroneth—Velok, the dark lands. From there, we set forth to right the wrongs committed by our oppressors.

"Daemons don't want to destroy Fal Oroneth or this realm. We only want to correct a grave sin. What the Pallora Fen told you is a lie to gain your loyalty and scare you from the truth. They can't accept that they are the same as daemons. They are the ones who brought the war to this realm."

Anger rose up from remembering the way he and the others had been beaten down. The past poured from him with the strength of his anger.

Lilly listened without running and, for the first time in all his years, he felt that an outsider might understand.

"The luriel make themselves to be beautiful but cursed us to ugliness when they made us. We were born of their deepest fears and loathing.

"But daemons aren't the monsters, Lilly. We were the victims of hubris. We were slaves to the luriel. They dominated us; but we revolted."

Her brows pinched in a way that he could only read as uncertainty of what to believe. He might yet sway her to the truth, to understand why he did what he did and achieve what no one had since the Sundering—understanding between luriel and daemons.

"Are the luriel who slowly feed on your soul any better than a daemon who ends the human suffering quickly? The human is no more in the Shadow Realm but a shadow upon itself, a slave to the luriel that owns it. Luriel attach to human souls to spawn. When they're ready, they return to the Shadow Realm to fight us, my kind...to enslave us." His voice quieted at the end.

Lilly blinked and sat back on her legs. "The celemae consume the human soul? But the Pallora Fen—"

"The Pallora Fen are wrong."

"I thought—"

"That you retained your identity?" Darrac huffed. "Lies. Without consuming the human, a luriel can no more survive this realm than a daemon. We are equal and opposite. Their way is simply more insidious, a slow feeding until they mature to take the full human, which gives them the strength to return to Fal Oroneth."

"Then Ascension..."

"Is the complete consummation of the human to gain the power to return. But the Pallora Fen don't tell that to fledglings. They would only resist."

"What about me?"

His chest swelled to think of her. In their short time together, she had shown him something else that he hadn't expected. "You're different. You're not like the others."

"But you came to destroy me?"

"I did, but I don't want that anymore," he murmured. "I never understood why anyone wanted to sacrifice themselves for another, but I would give up everything. I understand now. I'm a daemon; this shouldn't be. We are two parts of the same beings, broken asunder—"

"The Sundering. Something pulled you apart."

"Yes." He paused and studied her expression, unsure whether she was disgusted with him or the situation. "They told you."

She nodded, the threat of tears gone and a new understanding easing the lines of her face. She climbed to her feet with his help. "I saw you before. I had a vision. It was you, before you were a daemon, and the people around you were studying a...a power to correct a mistake of immortality." She frowned and shook her head. "Something went wrong, didn't it?"

Time could have stopped for him. It had happened so long ago that he thought it a dream. But now that she told him, images came back in faded generalities from a different life, one that now felt that it had been real. He remembered. He had been someone else that he had forgotten.

The Sundering had turned him into a monster of anger and hatred, something to fear, but it had not been because of the luriel. Something had happened.

"I...remember." Vague pieces, but he saw them and knew he had been there, a past that he had forsaken in the split that had left him only the darkest part of that whole self. Torek had convinced him and the others that they were better than they had been, free to do as they pleased. "It was so long ago. I woke up as a daemon, feeling angry and vengeful and being shackled and forced to work."

"You were human once, like this form." The touch of her fingers along his face sent a soothing brightness coursing through him that connected him with the past. A healing touch, it revived him like the feedings on her luriel spirit had.

"You knew?"

"I couldn't be sure, but are you now?" She searched his eyes. "I see pain and suffering."

After a pause, she said, "I told him you were different." She dropped her eyes and eased apart from him. "But you killed people, Darrac."

"To survive in this realm. I only consumed those already too dark. I was doing humanity a favor."

Her eyes shot up to him with accusation. "What about the creatures? Mychel said they came from the Shadow Realm."

"A distraction to keep the slayers busy."

"To get to me," she said in a wary voice and backed away. "Why? What do you want?"

So, it had come back around to this. He let out a heavy sigh, hoping she would see the truth. "To end this war. Your power can end Torek's rule in Velok."

"Me? I don't have any power. I'm..." She shook away the frustration of searching for the right word. "I just..."

"Want it to end?"

"Yes. No more killing. No more fighting with the Pallora Fen."

Upon hearing the name of the hated group of celemae, he bristled and tightened through his body to clenched fists. "They started it. The luriel brought the war to this realm."

"But you can end it." Hesitantly, she reached out and put a hand to his fist. The soft touch loosened the tension and her fingers slid into his hand.

"For things to change, one side has to be the first to suggest peace."

Her eyes pleaded with him, tugging at his heart. He tried to close it off, but something in her broke through his resistance.

No. He couldn't give up. If the luriel won, daemons would be enslaved, perhaps extinguished.

"I won't hurt you," he said, "but I can't give up my freedom again."

She dropped her eyes to her fingers on his chest, which ignited a fire inside him. "Mychel told me what he learned about Darrac, the daemon of Velok, and the atrocities recorded by some prophet celemae. I didn't want to believe him."

Darrac clamped his jaw, his fingers curling around her slim waist to hold her there if she sought to run. He leaned over her shoulder, inhaling her scent to keep in his memory if she did. Her hair tickled his face.

"That was a different Darrac," he said. She had transformed him, erasing all the hatred and desire for power that made up the daemon; but he wasn't luriel either. "One who would have killed you." He took a deep breath and asked, "What am I now?"

She pushed him up and searched his eyes for something his heart desired to give. The twitch of her lips into a smile and the caress of her fingers along his face lured him close. He didn't want to let her go. He wanted more than anything to be the human she saw.

"You're almost human..."

She rose into his kiss, which fueled the fire she had started inside him. The gentle movement of her lips on his teased the human desires but also promised a wholeness to the raging of his daemon side that nothing had ever satisfied. This was right. She was right. He would do anything to make the feeling last.

He longed to be whole again, and realized that this was the power of the new celemae. He only wanted her, to unite as one being, and held her as if they could merge.

After some time, she parted from his kiss but not his arms, her body pressing into his and her forehead leaning into his neck.

"You're too good to be a daemon," she whispered. "Promise me you'll leave the celemae alone."

"I could, but it won't stop the others. And they'll come after us. If I do what you ask, I'll be betraying Torek and the others." Not that he hadn't already done so, but she put herself at risk. "And you..."

"As a celemae, I'm a threat."

"More than that." He inhaled sharply from the pleasure of her fingers along his neck, but the point he had to make was made for him. "You have the power to transform daemons. They'll know that now."

Her fingers stopped and she lifted her head, her brow pinched in worry. "What will we do?"

"Hide."

"Where? You found me in my bedroom. They could come any time."

He knew exactly what to do, at least for a while, but how long the two of them could hide from the daemons of the Shadow Realm would be questionable. "Keigan Castle."

"What?"

"I have a following there."

"A what?"

"You'll see." He pried his fingers from her waist to find her hand and lead her. "It will hide us. The spells are still active."

She twisted around to the hoverjet still idling in the distance. "How far is it?"

"Very close."

Again, she scanned the rolling hills around them and twisted back to the hoverjet. "Where?"

"Let them go first."

After a moment of hesitation, she waved to the hoverjet.

When the engine pitch increased, the ramp closed on the hold area. They watched the airship rise into the sky and zip away to recede to a dot over the horizon before he led her through the grass.

"Are you going to tell me where this castle is?"

His fingers tightened around hers with the anxiety of seeing her reaction to the truth. "You'll see for yourself."

"Do I have to close my eyes?"

"No."

They stepped onto the well-worn path of dirt and stone around the mirage of the hill that was the hidden castle. Logic said the magi had worn that path clear, but it served his purposes now.

He led her around the hill to the front entrance or, rather, to what had been the front entrance at one time.

"We're here."

# Chapter 41

**"T** his can't be it." This had to be some sort of joke. She saw nothing but a hill of grasses that waved in the breeze.

"I said the spells are still in place." The twinkle in those eyes prodded her with a touch of mockery. His mood was lighter since she agreed to join him.

"Quit teasing."

The smile on his face could only be genuine. Without a word, he led her towards the hill. If he was teasing her, he did a fine job of it, but she played along and waded through the side of the hill.

The second she stepped to climb the hill, her foot dropped unexpectedly down through the hill, which disappeared to be replaced by a castle.

Lilly stared in disbelief. "Where did that come from?"

Just to be sure, she let go of his hand and stepped back to where the castle disappeared and was replaced by the hillside. Again, she stepped forward and the hillside dissipated to reveal the castle with a missing wall and ceiling of the entry area that gave way to a small inner courtyard.

Her legs carried her forward while her head stumbled in awe over suck illusions.

"How is it possible?"

"Magic."

She turned around to study the inner courtyard overrun by tall grasses and flowers.

At the opposite side of the courtyard, nearly buried by the grass that had emerged through the cracks to reclaim what had once been its domain before the construction of the fortress, she reached out. Cold stone met her touch.

"It's real," a deep voice said behind her. "It's been here for thousands of years, which is why it looks like this."

"Hidden by magic? Is that possible?" Why not? Daemons and other realms were real.

"Very possible. It is abundant in the Shadow Realm and this place is connected. You'll see." At his outstretched hand to a doorway deep in shadow, she cautiously stepped through and stopped in the dusty darkness of the windowless interior. From somewhere nearby, a bird twittered at their intrusion.

"This way." His low voice shattered the stillness while a warm hand on her back pressed her through a door and into dark hallway. The continued to another door from which light shone on gray dust and stepped into a chamber of broken columns and open windows.

"Across the hall."

Intrigued, she crossed the pattern of small and large diamonds barely detectable on the worn and dusty floor tiles and continued at his urging through another doorway into a shadowy corridor. In the journey since the courtyard, her brain accepted that the castle was real. In sharp contrast to her world of glass high-rises and technology, she seemed to have stepped into a forgotten past.

They finally stopped at a juncture of corridors.

"Now where?" she whispered.

He waved his hand before the wall and the outline of a large door glowed and faded. Twice her height and wide enough for a hoverjet to fly through, it inspired images of a time when men rode through on their mounts. The section of wall disappeared and a soft breeze carried the dankness of a cellar. But it wasn't the smell that made her think twice.

She reached out a tentative hand, which landed on nothing, and she stepped into the faint light on the wall of the corridor ahead. Not even the diviner in the temple had been able to conjure such a trick but had to rely on mechanics for the hidden passage.

Somehow Darrac had made the wall vanish. With all she had experienced, she supposed magic could be real, but she had trouble accepting it. There must have been a logical explanation.

With a hand on the small of her back, he gently pressed her into the hidden corridor and paused only to replace the wall behind them. When she tested it, cold stone met her fingers. She pushed but couldn't move it.

In the faint light, she discerned the outline of a smile on his face. He was finding her reactions far too amusing. She'd catch the flaw in his performance at some point.

"Magic," she said plainly. "What is this place?"

The present interfered sooner than expected when, a ways down the slanted floor, they passed a glowlamp in a sconce in the wall. Modern and battery powered, not something she expected was original to the castle, just as the wall was probably some technological feat she had only to explore.

Curious about what else she might see, she continued, their steps magnified on stone.

"Why couldn't this be in the city instead of an old castle?" Her whisper cut through the silence.

"You'll see."

Yes, she would. And that was all she needed to push her onward to the bottom of the ramp and a foyer with corridors leading aside from it with more glowlamps illuminating the way.

At the approach of footsteps, she halted.

A man in dark robes stopped at the corridor branch from the right. For a flicker of a moment, he looked ready to chastise her but a second later, he clamped his mouth shut and bowed his head. "Lord Darrac."

What? Lilly twisted to see the hard lines of his face gazing at the man.

"What can we do to serve you?" the man asked.

"Prepare a room for this lady." He spoke as one used to carrying authority, not like the pleading he had used on her minutes ago.

"We are limited on beds, my lord, to what cushions—"

"Do what you must! She will be given your utmost respect."

"Yes, my lord." The man's voice weakened into something pitiful and he scurried back down the path from which he had come, leaving them once more in silence.

"They will obey?" Although intriguing, the prospects of him dictating the lives of others left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"It is their reason for what they do." He kept his voice low, yet it rang in the stillness.

"What do they do? And how long will we be here that you think I need a room?" She didn't want to make that a home. She had an apartment in Noren City. Or was he planning to keep her a prisoner there?

"I don't know," he said in a somber tone. "The spells that hide the castle protect it from detection, but the bridge is accessible from the Shadow Realm."

"Bridge?"

"An open connection between realms. You'll see." He took her hand and led her ahead from the foyer to where the floor leveled and stopped at a large double door that looked more like it belonged on a hangar than within an old castle.

"As for the magi, they have revived the old ways to learn magic..." He paused and licked his lips. His voice lowered to say, "I taught them to access the power of the Shadow Realm for pledging their loyalty to me. It was...It was an effort to destroy the celemae."

Had he not clasped her hand as surely in his, she might have pulled away. But his earlier words haunted her. Did the luriel really feed on them? Was the one inside taking her life more every second? What would become of her? What was truly involved in Ascension?

What was right anymore? Was one side really better than the other?

After a few tentative seconds, he relaxed and released her hand before the large doors, leaving her to wonder at the fortress around her and what would become of her there.

"How many are there?" She spoke to make conversation while he seemed to question what to do with the doors.

Patterns of triangles and diamonds carved into the dark-lacquered wood seemed out of place—the whole well-kept appearance of the doors seemed out of place in that old fortress.

"Not near the numbers who once served me, but they can't be open about it."

No. She could imagine not. But if the Reformation had been caused by the daemons, it had hurt them with the luriel. It had either been a miscalculation or the Pallora Fen were wrong about that, like they were about other aspects of the luriel and daemons.

Now, Lilly was even more confused. She needed time to think.

Before she could, he waved a hand before the doors and they parted.

Past a short antechamber, she saw something larger. He had to coax the steps out of her when she stared in wonder at the immensity of the room.

Several faces over dark robes turned from their stacks of books and papers—and viewers?—at the edges of the room, beyond the circle of symbols etched deeply into the stones of the floor.

Almost in unison, they bowed their heads. More servants of Darrac.

"Magi." His deep voice thundered from behind her, and they all looked up once more.

Self-conscious of the attention, Lilly swallowed and clasped her hands before her demurely. A warm hand at her waist wasn't enough to calm the jitters.

"I bring a guest. Her name is Lilly, and you will honor her as you would a lady of nobility. Think of her as...your queen."

Queen?

She twisted around, wishing he hadn't said that. "Darrac, I'm not—"

He shook his head minutely and she left her objection unfinished.

"You are the lady of this court... _my_ lady."

His fingers squeezed her side gently, and her heart gave a small start at the suggestion contained in the simple action. His lady...His...

What did he mean—possession or simply a warning to them to respect her or maybe a little of both? Part of her liked the idea but something about it set off a warning in her mind.

His eyes lifted to the others in the room and she remembered they were being observed by the men who served him. "You will make this place comfortable and protect her as one of your own. The Pallora Fen will be hunting her."

One of the men took a step forward, his round head shaved bald but for the little bit of hair on his chin. "Lord Darrac. If the Fen hunt her, will they not continue until they discover this place?"

Behind her, Darrac's chest pressed out, the muscles under the shirt hard. He seemed ready to thrash the man but restrained himself. "It is your duty to see that this place is well-guarded, for your sake as well as hers. They would not hesitate to cut down any Velokian."

The man paled but tipped his head. "Yes, my lord."

Cut down a Velokian? That didn't sound like the Pallora Fen she had met—meditative and tranquil, except for the slayers, but even they seemed reasonable—unless he meant daemons, like him.

"Understood, Lord Darrac." The confident voice came from a younger man in the nearest corner to their left, next to a stack of books and a viewer showing several shots of the hillside and sky. For an old castle, they had some modern conveniences.

"I need a room and effects prepared for Lady Lilly. She will be staying for some time."

Lady Lilly? A queen? How thick could he spread it? Still, she had to admit it was flattering to hear him speak like that about her.

But for how long did he expect her to stay? She had a job.

"Understood." The same man turned to his viewer and pulled up a data screen to enter the orders, likely to be received by someone else in those halls.

The hand at her waist pressed her further into the room. Lilly noted the glowlamps spaced evenly about the walls of the large chamber. From the patterns of paint where a layer of a primitive mortar covered the bricks to give the wall a smooth appearance and the moldings bordering the ceiling and corners, the room had once been elegant. She imagined a ballroom where lords and ladies danced. But she'd seen the designs, or ones like them, somewhere that wasn't a ballroom—in the old temple in downtown Porton.

"What is this place?"

"The bridge room."

The bridge? She turned to see the confirmation in the wry smile on his face. "The bridge you told me about? The one that connects the two realms?" Like the one Mychel had found; but that couldn't be the same bridge.

"That bridge." He pointed to the floor.

She reached towards one of the designs as deep as a finger length and as wide.

Upon her hand hovering inches above it, the line glowed.

Lilly snapped her hand away. Experiment over. "What did I do?"

"It recognizes your power, a part of Fal Oroneth inside you."

"It responds to me?"

He shrugged and looked about at the men around them. "Anyone bearing the power can connect the two realms."

Interesting. She reached forward again and, when the lines started glowing, kept her hand over it. The power touched the brightness within her.

Until Darrac grabbed her wrist and pulled it away.

"Don't." He lowered his voice and leaned close. "The more you feed the luriel, the sooner you ascend."

The pain in his expression halted the suspicious thoughts sparked by his objection. If he was right... She didn't want to leave that realm, or at least not yet. "I'll stay away from it."

That brought a hesitant smile, but the worry still lingered in those dark eyes.

Fingers played softly along her jaw, a simple pleasure but one that hinted of desperation.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered almost too low to hear. There was a hint of pleading in his voice. It reached inside her heart and planted a hope there that he was sincere.

"I'll be all right."

That brought out a smile. He took her hand and led her around the edge of the floor etching to the large door once more.

"What else is here?"

After a last glance of the bridge room, he led her out and down one of the normal corridors. She was surprised to see a kitchen with a generator for power to more modern appliances. Those couldn't have been installed without some difficulty in transporting them. It also meant the men lived there long term.

They seemed to have reached the end of the corridor.

Darrac finished the tour and led her back through the hall towards the large corridor but stopped at a doorway. He led her inside to a spiraling staircase. They climbed, their steps echoing in the close passage. A hint of fresh air reinvigorated her to climbing faster, past the leveling of two different floors to the natural light of a window.

When she looked out through the glassless window, Lilly stood in awe. The view over the mostly intact castle astounded her.

"How can I see it?"

"You're inside the camouflage spell." His voice came from beside her and she realized he stood close to her at the window. His presence drew her closer, like opposite poles of a magnet.

"Aren't you afraid they'll fail?"

"They've held this long. The archmage who set them with me was brilliant in his manipulation of the Shadow Realm energy."

She stared at him, aware of the nearness and the need to close it as he had in the grassy field. There had always been something about his presence drawing her close without question, an irresistible pull. Despite telling herself to be cautious, that she knew so little, she wanted to be close to him, and in their short time together, it had grown stronger. And what she had seen and learned there had contradicted everything that Mychel had told her.

The expectation in his eyes lured her into him and his hands did the rest, feeding the desires he inspired in her.

"Did you mean what you said down there, about losing me?"

He pursed his lips for a moment, lips she sought to sample again. "There's something about you, and I can only guess the cause."

"What's that?"

"As two opposites, daemons and luriel will always be attracted to one another to balance, like the poles on a magnet."

That might explain the instant attraction. "What about other luriel and daemons, always fighting?"

His hands on her sides held her body next to him as he leaned over her. "I don't know. I only know that I want to be close to you, to be a part of you. I'm drawn to you, Lilly, and I want to protect you and stay with you. You make me feel...complete."

Emotions threatened to choke her, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and barely managed to say, "I feel the same. I did since we first met...but I had to know if we could work, and I know I shouldn't be close to you or trust you, but I can't change what I am."

"You changed me." He leaned closer and held her body next to him, exciting her with the confession that this was real. She welcomed the brush of his lips and sought more, pressed into the hard body even as his arms locked around her. His kiss went deeper, seeking, as if to rejoin the two halves they represented, their bodies the only block to such a union of spirits and then resigning to join in the only way possible in human forms. The heat rose inside her, melting away any objections of the mind until she could only yield to him and seek the satisfaction he promised.

At the moment she thought she couldn't resist, he pulled back, leaving her at the precipice of desire. He'd always had a spell on her, but if it was a result of the two halves seeking union, it only made sense that they should be together.

She didn't want logic, though. She wanted the bond.

Breathing hard, he leaned away, opening a gap between them.

"Now I understand," he said between deep breaths.

Wishing he would continue, she closed her arms behind his neck.

But he reached up to untwine them.

"No. Lilly."

His gently pulling her hands down from his neck cooled her with disappointment.

"You don't understand. I am a daemon. I shouldn't feel like this. This is human nature. I want this, but I'm afraid."

"Why?" Why was he making this so complicated?

"I won't let the daemon hurt you. In the past..." His pause came with the sobriety of a man acknowledging his faults. "I used women's lusts to feed, but I was in control and knew exactly what I was doing. I didn't need anything. I just used them. I took them at the height of their pleasure. It was sport; nothing more. I didn't feel. But this—you—everything is different."

The pleading in his eyes reached into her heart and buried any doubts and hesitations she had.

"I don't know what I might do," he said. "This is different. And I'm afraid I won't stop myself, that I'll feed on you."

"You won't hurt me."

"How do you know?" He shook his head. "I don't. I never felt anything before. This is different. If I hurt you, I would never forgive myself."

"That's why, and it's in your eyes." All of Mychel's warnings, Darrac's past, was nothing compared to the man before her now. "It always has been. That's why you could never kill me."

He lifted her hands to his lips to kiss them, the promise blazing in his eyes.

"My lord."

The voice echoing up the staircase shattered the moment.

The muscles in his cheeks bulged, a menace flashing through his eyes before he turned away to the man who emerged from around the bend in the staircase beneath them. These were his supporters, however, and if he wanted their cooperation, he needed to show some respect. Her soft touch on the back of his neck eased the tension from his body, assuring her that he would restrain himself and that she did indeed have some sway over him. She didn't want to see the monster. Rather, she wanted to believe in the man who desired her, made her feel wanted; it was the only way not to feel the guilt about the people he had killed.

A young man in dark robes stopped just where they could see each other. His eyes shifted to her briefly before he bowed his head. "My lord. Mage Sarshianan has surprised us. Since your appearance over a cycle ago, he and several others rushed to prepare a room for you, meant to be revealed as a surprise for your stay with us. If you desire, we will add whatever the lady pleases."

"You did this without my knowledge?" He spoke with an edge in his voice that made her bristle.

The man looked from Darrac to her and back, his throat bobbing with a swallow. "It surprises us all, Lord Darrac. They rushed to complete it while you were occupied with the old texts in consideration of this human form's need for rest."

When Darrac peered up at her over his shoulder with a question in those dark eyes, she gave a quick nod. Although she wasn't fond of the idea of staying long term, she was curious to know how they felt about him and, if that meant staying a while, it might be worth it.

"Your dedication will be rewarded."

The young man flashed a brief smile and bowed. "Thank you, Lord Darrac. I will be honored to show you this room."

She followed Darrac down the stairs after the mage.

Mychel was right—she couldn't trust her heart. It drove her mad with desire, pushing aside the reasons of her head that this was wrong in some ways even while feeling perfect in others.

She needed to let him know she was all right and not to seek her, if the Peacekeepers let him out. If anything, she might spare the world the wrath of one daemon by staying, and in that, the conflict within her heart about loving him settled.

When she was alone, she would call Mychel. To be sure, she ran a hand down the front of her pants and felt the familiar oblong stick of the comm unit in the pocket.

But she had a feeling she wouldn't have a chance to check in with Mychel for a while. The commandant didn't seem inclined to release him any time soon. That could work to her advantage, knowing Mychel's grudge against Darrac. She could learn what Darrac was planning, but she wouldn't have anyone but herself to rely on.

The mage led them to a floor above the level where the bridge room was located. Glowlamps spaced along the corridor provided light in dark places. They stopped at a double door that looked newer than the rest of the castle, meeting her expectations for reasonable accommodations.

"Here, my lord." The man opened the doors inward to a room that stole her breath.

Lilly stepped into something from a dream. Drapes hung over the large windows on the far side, windows with new glass. Opaque drapes hung over the walls of fitted stones partially covered yet in mortar for a smooth appearance in places and hid most of the imperfections caused by the erosion of time.

In the center stood a bed with tall corner posts of dark-lacquered wood and luxurious with pillows at the head and a rich brown and gold cover over the mattress.

"How did you get all this in here?" She reached the bed and ran a hand down the smooth finish of the wood post at the nearest corner.

"That you would have to ask of Sarshi and the others."

"I believe the lady is pleased," Darrac said.

"Yes, I am. It's beautiful." She caught the smile on the mage's face before he bowed and was anxious for him to leave.

"Will you need anything else?"

"No."

"That will be all," Darrac said and approached her.

The mage quietly slipped out, only the soft click of the doors assuring her he was gone—she was caught in the expectation of the man who joined her.

"They must hold you in great respect." When he didn't immediately reach out for her, she closed the distance, eager to feel his hands on her and the wholeness that came in being together.

In that moment, she saw the fear in his eyes and felt her heart nearly break. Not this again.

"You won't hurt me, Darrac. You've proven that already." And this only confirmed that he was better than the daemon he had been.

Her touch along his jaw wasn't enough to lure him back.

"I would never intentionally hurt you, but I am daemon. It's instinct to feed to keep up my strength to remain in this realm." He stared at her in silence for several seconds and broke the contact.

"As it is for any creature, but I don't think you'll lose control."

He leaned in close and put his arms around her as he had in the stairwell. "I don't want to."

"You won't. I trust you." She rose on her toes to kiss his lips. He returned her kiss, slow and tentative at first.

With her fears that he might harm her squashed, her desire to be close pulled without mercy, letting loose the longing to join with him.

His lips sought hers with greater certainty while his hands moved along her body, always pressing her against his.

The desires rose again in full. Her heart raced with every stroke of his fingers down her sides and along her thighs, the soft cupping of her breasts, and touches new to her. The man knew how to lift a woman into a new level of pleasure. But that wasn't enough for her.

Through her longing to unite, he let her lead him to the moment when the whole world floated away with the intensity of pleasure rushing through her body beneath him. For that, he waited while she swam in an overwhelming bliss.

Even as it faded, he was reluctant.

"I'll be all right." She traced her fingers along the muscles of his back and whispered, "Let go, Darrac. It's your turn."

Her permission set him free. It wasn't long before he moaned in the way she remembered of Rian when he had reached the threshold of sexual pleasure, except he had rarely taken her to that point.

Darrac had known how to make her feel good, but while satisfying, the sexual intimacy wasn't the ultimate goal she sought. Two halves always longed to unite, those halves being trapped inside their bodies. It might never be enough.

Soon, he relaxed and his weight settled on her.

"Feel better?"

He let out a heavy breath that blew in the crook of her neck and shoulder. "I didn't know it could feel this good."

"Then you're more human than daemon. You didn't even think to feed; did you?"

"No." He lifted his head from the pillow, resting his weight on his elbows while fingers combed her hair and a smile lit on his face. He kissed her lightly. "I don't want this to end."

"It doesn't have to." That sad look on his face struck an anxious chord within her. "What?"

"The luriel is feeding on you every day, Lilly. One day you will ascend."

"Can you stop it?" There had to be a way. She never wanted to leave him.

"I don't know. We'll have the magi study the possibilities." He dropped his head to her shoulder with his full weight upon her. "I tried to stop it, but it only grew stronger quicker."

"You did? When was this?"

"The evenings I stayed at your apartment. It was my intent to use your power to make myself stronger so I could defeat Torek."

"But other times—when you fed on others—I felt it." How could she not feel him feeding on her?

"This was slow, paced not to arouse the notice of celemae or you, but the last time was different...I almost couldn't."

The implications of his words shattered her questions. She blinked and refocused on his face. "Then you saved me. By weakening the luriel—"

"No. By weakening the luriel, I forced it to feed even more on your soul to strengthen itself against attack. I've only made things worse." He kissed her, but she couldn't think about that. "I'm sorry, Lilly."

Stunned that she would live a shorter life than even she expected after what she had learned from Mychel, she pushed him off and rolled over and welcomed his body molded to hers and his arm tucked around her under the covers.

"We'll find a way to stay together."

His statement burned through her heart. Not even Rian had made that promise.

Too choked to speak, she could only twine her fingers in his and keep him close as long as possible.

It would be her luck to find a man who loved her only to be threatened with losing everything. She could only hope the magi found a way to sever the luriel from her.

# Chapter 42

**D** arrac smiled at the sleeping form next to him beneath the covers. She let out a sigh and her body relaxed into a deeper sleep like the occasions he had fed.

This time, like the last seven nights spent in Keigan Castle together since that first, had been different than with any other woman. He hadn't fed on her luriel. She had changed him, and he needed her more than anything. She had shown him something he had never known was possible, something he never wanted to end. She had given herself to him willingly, selflessly. If this was love, he understood why humans sought it.

He traced his finger along Lilly's neck and shoulder, the smoothness of her skin tantalizing. She was soft and delicate but so strong of spirit, the outside being a poor measure of her true capabilities.

The flow of thoughts darkened. If Torek discovered her power, he would send several daemons to guarantee her destruction. She posed a greater threat to daemons than all the slayers of that realm.

He didn't know what she was, only that she possessed something the luriel sought.

It had already affected him. He couldn't undo the change she had started in him, if he wanted to. He didn't. Never before had he felt so alive, like waking from a long darkness.

He had to protect her. She would be his key to defeating Torek and the luriel.

And he was due to report to Torek.

It couldn't wait any longer. If he didn't report in, Torek might send other daemons to find him. As one of them, they would sense his death. If they didn't sense it, they would know he lived and suspect him of the treason he had already planned. There would be no escape.

Darrac pressed his nakedness to Lilly's back, comforting himself to feel her body next to his, never close enough for a complete blending but satisfying in many ways. He kissed her neck.

"Lilly." His low voice by her ear should have aroused her from her slumber, but she only sighed.

"Lilly," he said in a little louder voice.

This time, she moved next to him and he held her with an arm around her side. The roundness of her breast fit in his hand.

That made her stir.

"Hmm? Again, Darrac? One of us needs to sleep." She pushed his hand away and rolled partially onto her front.

Although he would have savored the pleasure of making love to her again, the weight of responsibility on his mind subdued those desires.

"It's time," he whispered.

"Time?" Her groggy voice was partially muffled in the pillow.

"I'm pushing the limit Torek gave me."

She said nothing, but the muscles of her back beneath his hand hardened. A couple seconds later, she rolled onto her back. In the faint moonlight filtered through the drapes over the windows, her eyes fixed on him.

"You can't stay a few more hours?" Her fingers on his chest sent a pleasant ripple through his human body but not enough to counter the worries.

They had already discussed this. Convincing her had taken some explaining—she had made it clear that she didn't like him leaving. He agreed with her but it had to be done.

"I'll only be gone a few days in this realm." Unless Torek wasn't convinced, but he kept those fears to himself. "The magi have their orders."

She slid her hand to his neck and pulled him down into a kiss that any other time would have filled him with irresistible desires. This time, however, he lifted away when she let him. "I can't."

"I'll miss you," she whispered.

His heart ached with the prospect of being away, a pain that no longer took him by surprise. "I'll return quickly. I promise."

Before he gave in to the alluring touch of her fingers on his body, he slid out from under the covers and into the chill of the night. While he reached for his clothes, a moment of wonder passed in realizing the need for coverings in the human form. Never had temperatures affected him as they had since being with her.

He shivered from the cool air on bare skin and pulled the shirt over his head, aware of her watching him.

A minute later, he leaned over the bed for one last kiss to carry with him.

"Good luck," she said.

"I'll be back soon."

"Not soon enough."

He hurried from her, feeling the link tightening with each step away. An invisible tether connected them, but one which was mutually beneficial for both, not like the chains with which the luriel had bound them. This was something else, a new freedom rather than a prison. She had shown him that being whole again was preferable to the darkness that had been his life.

That wholeness would escape him if Torek knew what she was capable of doing. Diverting him from that would be the only way to protect her.

Distracted by his thoughts of how to deal with Torek, Darrac reached the bridge room without realizing.

Satisfaction lifted his mood that the magi had followed his command—one of them was present at that late hour. The man looked up from the viewers displaying the darkened grounds outside the castle.

"My lord." The man jumped from his seat at sudden attention.

"Be sure Harrel respects Lady Lilly." He stood over the short, wiry man.

"Yes, my lord."

Darrac hesitated on saying something more. The man appointed as archmage in line to receive greater powers for leading the sect was proving argumentative since gaining his status. Harrel had proven to be especially nebulous in his respect for Lilly. Darrac wondered if he had appointed the wrong man. Saul would have been a more reliable and fair choice, but that hadn't been apparent when Darrac had appointed the first man who had shown no fear.

Killing the man outright might create a power void in leadership.

Waiting for the man to disobey him would leave Darrac open to questioning by those who should be loyal.

Unfortunately, Harrel was the most competent in building the spell to test Lilly's power.

The matter would have to wait. They needed Harrel's skills.

His mind set but hardly comforted, Darrac stepped onto the bridge, initiating the power, which swirled about him. He guided its direction to a region outside Velok. The others would detect his return but he wouldn't risk revealing his bridge.

A dark forest opened to him.

He flexed his wings and claws and stepped through. The bridge closed behind him.

The hot air from the closeness of the trees clung with the weight of moisture. It didn't help that the lowest of the canopy barely cleared his head and the branches of the close trees tangled around him. In the squishy soil around the roots beneath his hind claws grew mosses and a few grasses. The earth writhed with creatures slithering and scurrying away.

He dug his fore-claws into the thickest and tallest trunk near him and climbed its smooth, slimy and vine-covered bark. Of the branches in his way, he ripped them off and tossed them aside, often to catch in those of other trees. The rustling of leaves surrounded him, mostly as a result of the tree's swaying from his weight.

As he neared the top, the tree creaked and bent slightly. He continued to where the trunk narrowed too much to support him and broke it off to clear a hole in the canopy.

The silver of two moons greeted him.

Beneath, several white shapes gathered on the ground to vanish from sight when the moonlight hit them. Pack hunters but smaller than the carnoc.

They would have to find a new prey.

He opened his wings and flapped, sending leaves flying in the gust he created. Greeting the air beneath wings that had too long done nothing, he lifted off and flapped into the night sky.

In the distance, mountains rose like jagged black teeth against the starry backdrop, peaks of the Velok Mountains in which the daemons had expanded the natural caverns to create their home.

His timing couldn't have been more perfect. He had been right to leave Lilly when he did; lucky that the nights coincided at that time. The luriel would not wander the night, leaving him free to act. Far in the opposite direction, a beacon shone into the night, visible for hundreds of miles. The light of Arthan.

He huffed and sped towards the mountains and the caverns that had been his home for the past five hundred years. The luriel were no more allies than the daemons for whom he had fought, the same daemons who would gladly tear him to pieces to take his place.

By the time he crossed into the mountains and found the nearest entrance, his back ached from flying. But he also felt awkward after having appreciated life as a man and the benefits of that form.

He dropped the talons of his feet to the small ledge outside the large mouth of rock and flapped to slow his descent. Upon touching down, he tucked his wings and froze to listen with all his senses.

As expected, guards had been posted near the entrance, a whisper of their foul aroma and dark presences irritating his senses.

He marched past where they blended with the rocks inside the entrance. They remained hiding, their task to keep out unwanted intruders rather than the daemons who owned those caverns.

Perhaps he wasn't as changed as he thought. The possibility dimmed his fears and brightened on fooling Torek.

He would return to Lilly. That single thought pierced his heart with a glimmer of light that he could not dim.

Darrac marched through dark passages, his sight different in that form from the light spectrum humans saw. The pitch black meant nothing to daemon senses.

What had been familiar for hundreds of his years was now almost foreign to him; he'd grown so comfortable as a human.

His tail snapped aside involuntarily in his agitation. It was a bother now, a necessary inconvenience. All of that body seemed bulky and coarse, a second skin that didn't fit.

He looked forward to his return as the man of the Gray Realm.

Lost in his thoughts of the new life, he came upon the vast city before he realized where he was.

Guards at the entrance straightened at his passing, their ambitions and fury bubbling beneath the surface of his awareness.

From within himself, there was calm.

The magnificence of the city was illuminated by orbs of power scattered about on thick pillars left in place from excavating around them. Around the periphery, the facades of different compartments and rooms expressed the skill of daemon claws, something not even the most creative human artisans throughout their history could match.

On the far side, water poured from a spout in the mountain and flowed to a pool in the center of the cavern. From there, it diverted aside to another, larger cavern, rushing into the buckets of a wheel to turn gears and other wheels for various machines. Water splashed in a pattern from the buckets and magnified in the cavern, roaring over the occasional squeak of gears. Although simple in their function compared to the complexities of the power generation developed in the Gray Realm, it was nothing compared to what their magic could achieve when they needed it.

Other daemons hurried from his path to the water wheel and the multiple structures connected to it far into the depths of the cavern. Far across the upper way awaited several other tunnels, one of them to Torek's chamber.

Darrac took a breath of the air, noting what he hadn't before his extended stay in the Gray Realm, a foul aroma of daemons and mold and dankness and filth that he had assimilated in his life there and learned to ignore.

He gave a soft huff and spread his wings. This was his home no longer.

The thought of sustaining a life in the Gray Realm gave him pause—he hadn't fed off Lilly or any human for many days while with her, nor had he activated the bridge. Had it been her power sustaining him or a result of the changes? In the past, he had never been able to sustain himself without the bridge or feeding.

More questions to explore when he returned.

The realization empowered him—he would be the first daemon to survive in the Gray Realm without feeding.

He pushed those thoughts aside and flapped into the chasm, climbing for the tunnel that would take him to Torek's chamber.

Several spheres of rock floated on pillars of magic. He angled around them or over, wingtips catching an occasional faint tingle of numbness upon passing too close.

Nothing had changed in the solitude of each daemon ignoring one another until the battle cry went out. The same war would go on forever. They would never win as long as each focused only on themselves.

Eternity was too long to live like this.

He landed and stomped through the passage to another open cavern, the crashing of the water only a faint drone there. Two passages branched away on either side of a large doorway that he knew too well. The Lord of Velok lay beyond, the foulest of the lot, a miasma of seething anger against the luriel.

As he had realized with Lilly, this was no strength but a weakness to be exploited. Darrac had learned many things from his time with humans, different ideas that Torek had not been exposed to. He had an advantage.

The time had come.

Darrac tucked his wings and entered the lair of Torek, each step echoing through the chamber.

From his throne, Torek looked up from several scenes surrounding him with the magic to see beyond their caverns.

The annoyance in those red eyes stopped Darrac inside the doorway.

"What were you doing in the wetlands?" The voice was too calm.

Darrac stiffened, his tail twitching with the startling realization that Torek had seen his arrival. Was Torek curious or did he suspect the truth? What had the others discussed with him?

"Investigating," Darrac replied. "I thought the risk was worth seeing if the luriel had crossed."

Torek turned his face to one of the three-dimensional views hovering around him. A claw erased the trees of the wetlands.

"Your eyes cannot be everywhere," Darrac added.

Torek's red eyes narrowed. He rose from the stone seat, focused on Darrac, and the scenes dissipated around him.

"If you were more efficient in your duties, I would not need to." The last two words rose in volume as he stopped threateningly close so that his hot breath huffed into Darrac's face. "Have you finished this foolish idea?"

"Yes, Lord Torek."

Under the scrutiny of the fiery gaze of the larger daemon, Darrac stood his ground without flinching.

Torek finally eased back from his threat. "Then you will join the others to prepare for the final siege of Arthan."

"Whose errand is more foolish?"

Torek's wings opened and his tail lashed behind him.

"Nearly five hundred years of Fal Oroneth have passed." Darrac spat the words, prepared to defend against Torek's wrath for questioning his righteousness. "We cannot penetrate the protections of the city. Their magic is too powerful."

Rather than punish Darrac for speaking against his plan, Torek stood in place, but his roar filled the cavern with mockery.

When it died, a sharp-toothed and dark smile transformed their leader.

"The great Frael Darrac gives up so easily? The Gray Realm has weakened you." He sneered in disgust. "You are not fit to lead the ranks of Velok!"

"I am not weak!" Darrac growled the statement. "You are blind. I have spent time in the Gray Realm learning about their new weapon."

All the arrogance vanished from Torek's face, encouraging Darrac.

"The celemae are stronger than ever."

Torek snorted. "So you claim. You have opposed this siege from the beginning and now I understand why."

The loud double tap of a claw point on stone was all the warning he had of the four guards who stepped from their cloaking at the wall.

Darrac cursed himself for not noticing them standing there. With his new awareness, he should have sensed them, but the lord's aura of dark intent had radiated too strongly. Aware of them now, he had a hint of their individual presences.

"I think you meant to make me look like a fool," Torek said.

Then he had not been misled. Darrac had suspected, but their last encounter had made him overconfident; a game by Torek to trick him into a false sense of security and then wait for him to slip.

Too bad one of the guards was on his side.

Darrac whirled on the four, taking out one and using him against another. A third grazed his side, but Darrac ducked and whirled, slicing his wing joint with its single sharp claw-like point to hook in his opponent and rip his flesh open. The other daemon roared.

The last made a half-hearted attempt that Darrac easily parried and, in several moves, sent him into the rock face to crumple into a heap. He might need that one again.

In the full fighting rage, he turned on Torek.

"You turn on your own, Torek? You don't listen to new information about our enemy? And you would send others to fight your fight? You are not worthy to lead!" He roared the statements burning to explode from him for hundreds of years so that any in hearing range would know the treachery that was their leader.

Torek slammed his feet down with each step towards him, the frayed wings out in a display of his size.

Darrac stood his ground, ready for the confrontation. He had seen Torek tear apart opponents, but their leader had grown complacent in his dominance.

The first blow came swiftly but in the manner expected—Torek didn't change his style—and Darrac easily jumped back, grabbed the massive arm, and flipped Torek using his own momentum.

Using his muscular tail to slap the ground in a counterbalance, Torek jumped to his feet. In an attack-ready position, he snarled, "You will die for this!"

"You would have killed me anyway, like you will kill them all in this foolish ambition. You don't know what the luriel have done!"

Torek growled and dug talons into the rocky ground. After a couple steps for momentum, he leapt at Darrac, who didn't move fast enough and was knocked aside.

But he kept his feet as the larger daemon whirled and charged once more.

Having frequently fought the celemae in the Gray Realm, Darrac used what he had learned and parried blows with the larger daemon.

After several rounds, Torek sent him rolling over to hit the throne.

Darrac lifted his head in time to see a long, razor-like claw swinging at him.

He caught the wrist attached to that claw and braced against the strength behind it. After a second in the stand-off and knowing another claw was free, he twisted and swung his heavy tail. It hit with enough force into the nearest leg to offset Torek's balance.

Darrac shifted away from the claw, letting Torek's force send him flipping upside-down into his own throne. In the same motion, Darrac rolled onto his feet, checked the trio of daemons who had entered the chamber and returned his attention to Torek, who righted himself.

"You cannot win this," Torek said. "But now I know you meant to betray me. I will learn your secrets, and those who allied with you will be punished!"

"This is why we will never win." Darrac caught his breath and wiped a moist line of black blood from his cheek. "I will not serve you."

Before any could attack, he blinked from the cavern, only one thought concerning him—Lilly. More than before, he would have to work to keep her safe. Torek would pursue until Darrac and all those associated with him were dead. That would especially apply to celemae.

He only hoped that the magi could learn the secret of what made her special. They needed that more than ever.

# Chapter 43

**"W** ait here." Mychel didn't wait for Kade to agree but slammed the door of the cab and rushed to the ceiling entrance. Lilly hadn't answered her comm unit when he'd called. He hoped it simply meant she was ignoring him.

But she'd gone to confront Darrac. If he was a daemon, she could be...

_No!_ He pushed the thought out of his head, refusing to acknowledge the possibility that he had lost another charge.

Damn the commandant for holding him back from joining her! The idiot wanted to believe he was guilty of something. The man still had a planet-sized chip on his shoulder from twelve years ago. Mychel wasn't that young, flagrant playboy any more. He had responsibilities he took to heart and soul.

Lilly was his responsibility, and he was going to see that she at least reached Enlightenment.

Her code still worked on the outside keypad. However, out of curiosity at her apartment door, he checked the last entry—eleven days ago, nearly a cycle and a half—and his heart sank.

He entered and noted the staleness settling in already, the layer of dust dulling table surfaces.

"Lilly?" Just to be sure, he searched every room. Seeing no signs of daemon activity provided only minuscule relief since she hadn't returned.

Where are you?

In the sitting room, he pulled out his comm and tried her code again.

"Mychel?"

His heart jumped from his chest at the unexpected answer. "Lilly! You're all right."

"Yes, I am. You don't have to worry."

"Where are you?"

"I...I can't tell you that."

A jolt like an electric shock raced down his spine. "Why not?"

"I don't know where I am. I didn't see the coordinates."

Lying or not, this wasn't good.

"I know what you're thinking, Mychel," she said. "I don't want the Pallora Fen involved. This is my life. I appreciate what you've tried to do, but I've learned things...Nothing is what it seems."

"What has he done, Lilly?" She didn't make sense. What had that daemon done to her?

"Good bye, Mychel."

"Li—"

The link clicked off.

In a sudden fit of rage, he threw the comm at the wall, an act which did nothing to alleviate the frustrations ready to explode. Damn that daemon!

Damn the commandant for restraining him and for accommodating Lilly's request to leave. This was Amos's fault.

Commandant Renvil.

Mychel retrieved the comm and shoved it into his pocket. A slap of the controls at the door keyed it open. He stomped to the elevator, his emotions rising in a pitch of anger.

Amos was going to fix this, and it might end up giving the commandant a real reason to convict him if Amos didn't do as he asked.

# Chapter 44

**L** illy stared at the comm unit. Had she done the right thing by cutting him off?

Knowing Mychel, he'd keep trying.

But she couldn't afford his interference now. She didn't want Enlightenment until she understood the full implications.

The sun's warmth on her face contrasted the chill in the air. The cooler days of fall crept upon them. The jacket the magi had brought with the other clothes for her stay was sufficient on this cool day, and the high walls cut off the wind.

She tucked the comm unit back into an inner pocket of the jacket. It might come in handy if she needed it in an emergency, but it would be annoying if Mychel called again. She only hoped Mychel obeyed her wishes and left her alone. She was happy there.

In the courtyard surrounded by the walls of the castle, she stretched her legs in a walk around what had become a garden. Darrac had been sure to inform her that the spells would hide her from all outside detection. If she wanted to be found, she only had to step beyond the walls and the protections that hid them from celemae, daemons, human eyes, and—thanks to the equipment and technical expertise of the magi—scans of any kind.

She could enjoy the peace of the courtyard, or try to forget her worries about Darrac being gone.

Around her, the grasses grew tall and lush. Nature had a way of recovering given enough time. She picked several wildflowers before looking up at the two pale crescents of different sizes at opposite ends of the sky, Isa and Mearas. Two moons. Deiavo would appear later.

The bases were constantly sending back data, which she analyzed and reported. She lived by numbers and facts, but this...

The Shadow Realm ran with a different set of logic that required her to start over to learn. It didn't make sense from what she knew about her world, her realm. Even time ran differently from what she understood.

She hoped Darrac was all right.

Fingers pinched the flower stem, until she told herself to relax.

She felt the man's presence before she saw anything, like a small tickle of idea at the back of her mind or a tiny bug crawling on her skin. The Velokian magi accessed the power of the Shadow Realm connected though the bridge. It lingered as a weak aura about them that she'd learned to be aware of like the celemae or active daemons and had used it to avoid those she didn't trust.

"My lady." She turned at the sound of the voice from the dark doorway. Above the black robes, his face could have been floating in the air. She couldn't remember his name—only a few men consistently stayed while others floated in and out at different times. He was one of the newest to her. "We're ready."

At last. It had taken eleven days to get everything in place, starting her third day at the castle—some of it medical and scientific equipment and some of it nothing more than enchantments to prepare. She'd helped with some of the equipment setup to keep herself busy. Darrac had kept her busy in other ways, until leaving.

Her heart yearned for him and dreaded that he might never return, but she stamped out the fears with thoughts of his cleverness to be one of the top generals of Velok respected by other daemons.

Ready for something else to think about, she returned through the tall grasses in the still air of the courtyard. The memory of Darrac's invitation in a patch of the taller grass on a warm, sunny afternoon teased a smile. Once he had realized they could enjoy being together without him hurting her, he'd let loose in his seduction.

She reached the man at the open doorway and stepped up to the main level. "Has Darrac returned?"

"Not yet, Lady Lilly."

Not what she wanted to hear, but she hadn't expected positive news; she hadn't felt his presence.

"You will be notified as soon as he appears from Fal Oroneth." The man extended a hand in the direction of the bridge room.

If he didn't come to her first, but she hated that he had returned to Velok, leaving her alone at the castle to worry if the other daemons would punish him, if she would never see him again.

She said nothing but walked with the mage through the castle corridors, the soft padding of their steps echoing in the emptiness.

Along the now-familiar path to the bridge room, they passed a few others coming and going who paused to watch her. Their eyes burned curious fire. How she wished Darrac had not left! Four days without him was torment, and her thoughts grew more dire each hour.

Because of the awkwardness of their scrutiny, she hurried her steps to reach the chamber with the young mage.

Within the room beyond the large door, Saul looked up with a greeting smile from the equipment they had brought into the chamber to study her and the energy fields of the bridge.

"Lady Lilly." His bow made her blush embarrassment.

"If you'd come this way." He indicated the scanning equipment set up in the corner to the left of the door. Several items had been moved away since her first visit.

She laid down on the table. Saul and a handful of others locked different pieces of equipment over her.

"Just relax." He didn't take his eyes off the control station at her side. "As I've said, I'm a medic. I'll be monitoring everything."

"Magic and science are compatible?"

"More than most realize. Magic is simply a more intuitive manipulation of energy fields."

He made it sound easy. Maybe she should ask him to give her lessons.

Before she could, one of the arches over her started glowing.

"Now, relax and focus on the luriel inside you. We've scanned the bridge many times."

"And?"

He shook his head. "Nothing unusual registers, but you're a blend of energy from both realms."

That sparked a curiosity. "What about Darrac?"

Saul looked up and stared across the chamber, a contemplative expression on his face.

"I'm guessing not?"

His attention refocused on the controls. "Lie still and meditate. You won't feel anything."

His avoidance of the subject only made her more curious. Had they scanned Darrac? What would they discover about daemons on a medical scan?

What would they discover about luriel?

She wouldn't get any answers without cooperating. Just as curious to see the results, she closed her eyes and focused inward on the luriel light inside her as Mychel had taught.

She could have plunged into brightness for what erupted around her.

A deafening crack shook through the city moments before an ominous cloud billowed up from the complex at the farthest end of the city. The cloud quickly consumed the complex and continued its spread outward.

"Dar!" Soroya's frantic voice barely carried over the crackling of power arcs and the deep booms of thunder from the cloud spreading towards her. She ran along the rail at the edge of the square overlooking the city from the hilltop.

"Darrac!"

"Ershan Soroya."

Without taking her eyes off the looming cloud, she said, "I must find him." In a terrified voice, she muttered, "This is my fault. I should have listened..."

"We must flee before it's too late. We don't know what will happen when the reaction hits."

"I'm not leaving without him!" Tears glazed her eyes and her lips trembled.

_"We can't hold the bridge open for the power to cross. The other realms are not prepared._ We _were not prepared."_

She gazed on the man with a mixture of contempt and grief and looked back over the city and the cloud now halfway to them.

"What will happen to him?"

The man shook his head. "If he's not here, he's gone already. I'm sorry. Come with us. We don't have twenty seconds at the rate it's moving." His voice was soothing and sincere, a gentleness that belied the urgency of the situation.

"I can't leave him." Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Ershan. Come. Until it's passed, there's nothing we can do. Our home is lost. When the threat is past, we will assess the damage."

She looked again at the rapidly expanding cloud and turned to flee with the man.

Lilly blinked awake and gasped.

"My lady?"

She blinked again, feeling out of place and wondering for a second where she was. The answer came before she could ask. The room and equipment and the faces now staring at her connected with reality to assure her that she was in the right place this time.

"I'm...I'm all right. Did you get what you needed?"

"We're almost done," Saul said while two others adjusted equipment around her.

Another vision. Something had happened on Fal Oroneth. Why was she seeing events from so long ago? What did they mean?

She hoped the magi could give her some answers where the Pallora Fen hadn't.

They worked around her a little while longer and finally lifted the scanners from above her.

"Did you find anything?"

"We won't know until we have a chance to review the data, but we would like to attempt the spell we've prepared." He looked up at the older man who stepped around to take his place.

"Shouldn't you wait until Darrac returns? What if something goes wrong?" An aura of distrust clung to Archmage Harrel that she couldn't get past. He had only ever treated her with thinly veiled contempt, except in Darrac's presence.

"I have been a practicing Velokian for twenty-five years. I can fix a spell." The arrogance in the man's voice grated on her. Not testing something several times before deploying it was flirting with disaster. She trusted scientific equipment, with which she was familiar, but magic—she had seen what could go wrong with magic.

"She has a point," Saul said. "If something went wrong, Lord Darrac would not spare us."

The thick-jowled Harrel glared at the younger mage. He grabbed Saul's arm and dragged him around the corner of the doorway, just out of sight but not hearing.

"She is celemae," he hissed at Saul. Despite keeping his voice down, it still carried to her in the stillness of the inner chamber. "If something happens, it will be one less in the way of conquest."

"But Lord Darrac—"

"Ordered us to learn what is different about her. That is all."

"I—I don't know. He wouldn't have told us to think of her as a queen if she wasn't important."

Harrel huffed. "A real daemon doesn't need a lover."

"But he's human when he's here. He's as human as any man and as susceptible to the desires that come with it."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Harrel grumbled and gave her a dark glower.

Both men peered around the corner, Saul with a pained expression on his face. She appreciated him standing up for her, but now she knew with certainty how Harrel felt.

Uncomfortable with being subjected to the man's lack of care, she sat up from the scanning table and dropped to the floor.

The action brought the men to her side.

"I'm fine, just thinking we should wait for Darrac."

"I am perfectly capable." Harrel's voice was tight, his lips pressed together.

"I won't argue, but I'd rather wait."

"The spell won't wait. It's ready now."

She met his livid face and fiercely hard eyes with her own calm. He would never dare to speak to her like that with Darrac there.

"I'll wait." Any trust of the man had vanished.

In an instant, her throat pinched and her feet left the floor. She felt herself rising into the air and gasped for breath.

"Harrel, stop this!"

"She is celemae, the ancient enemy."

"She is the guest of our lord," Saul argued. "He vouches for her."

"He has been led astray. I am merely looking out for him."

Lilly choked for breath but saw spots swimming in her vision and knew the world would go black soon.

"Help," she squeaked out.

The pinching let up and she gasped at air rushing into her lungs, although she still floated higher. Her heart raced.

"Saul! Help!"

Saul's attention fixed on Harrel, who held one had towards her and the other towards Saul.

In the midst of it, power burst around her and a vast darkness cut off the lights from behind.

Something thumped and she tried to twist but dropped suddenly. However, she didn't hit the ground twenty feet down. Rather, she landed after a short drop on something cushioned with a leathery texture and a gray-black color. She followed the thick arms to the body towering over her and the horned face with the red eyes from her nightmares.

"Darrac?" A gleam of moisture came from his chin. Was that daemon blood?

A snort blew from nostril slits, and red eyes narrowed but not on her. Rather, she was lowered gently to the ground and slid off the claws to rush backwards to the others.

"What is this?" The deep voice boomed in the room and wings shifted behind him with a soft scrape.

Lilly caught her breath, unable to take her eyes from that hideous face. Red eyes jumped to her only for an instant before returning to the magi with a look that she was glad not to have directed at her.

One heavy foot set down closer to them and sent a small tremor through the floor that rattled some of the testing equipment.

"My lord," Saul said.

Harrel's face drained of color.

"There was a disagreement as to your intents with the celemae."

Darrac huffed and shrank down, transforming into the man she knew, a cut on his chin oozing a black that dissipated like smoke.

"She is not 'the celemae'." Dark eyes gleamed with pure malice. "She is Lady Lilly."

Saul swallowed. "Yes, my lord. B—B—But, Harrel felt that she had wrongly influenced you."

At that, Darrac stormed towards the mage.

"No!" Lilly rushed to intercept him before he could hurt them. "He was trying to help me. It was a misunderstanding. They don't understand what's at stake."

His eyes softened when he looked down on her. "You're all right?"

"I am now." She tried to smile, but events had left her shaken and she could only embrace him to steady herself. Seeing his true form stuck in her mind. She wanted to think of him only as the man she loved, but that monster from her nightmares was him. And that monster had saved her.

"We need to talk." She looked up into his face but refrained from reaching for the cut. "When they ran the medical scans, I saw something more."

He gave a quick nod and lifted his eyes to the men, the darkest of scowls on his face. "We will speak later."

"Yes, Lord Darrac." Saul bowed low as Darrac led her past. Harrel looked like he was caught in the grip of panic. The others simply bowed their heads.

"You're sure you're all right?" Darrac asked again after they'd left the chamber and the doors closed.

"I will be. What about you? What happened in Velok?" She gently probed the cut with her finger.

"A fight. Nothing to concern you."

At the disappearance of the cut, she gasped. "It's gone. The cut disappeared."

Darrac touched his face gingerly, but a second later, rubbed his fingers over it with a frown. "How..."

His hands lowered and his eyes studied her with a puzzled expression.

It passed without another word and he reclaimed the concern that had darkened his mood upon discovering Harrel's attack on her.

"Tell me what happened," he said, continuing the familiar route through the old castle.

"Only if you promise not to kill anyone."

Neck muscles tightened and he breathed deeply as a man restraining his rage.

"Promise me." She grabbed that steeled arm and he turned to her, the rage boiling beneath the surface.

"What did they do?"

Seeing no other way to calm him, she told him about the testing and the fight. Tension hardened every muscle in his body, his feet stomping next to her to the door of the bed chamber, where they stopped.

"Darrac." She put a hand to his face to direct his eyes to her instead of whatever vengeance he dreamed of. "He did it for you. They are loyal. They just don't understand."

"They understand more than you know. He should have consulted me. He should have waited." He pushed the doors of the room open before her, continuing his march through them.

Lilly closed the doors behind her and hurried to where he stopped with a hand on a corner post at the foot of the bed. From behind, she closed her arms around him.

"You arrived in time." She pressed herself into his back and felt the tension melt from his body.

"What about the next time?" His voice softened. He turned in her arms to face her and embraced her with a tightness that implied he didn't want to let go.

For a long while, he held her close without any hint of asking for the intimacy she had missed for the last four days.

In some ways, his anger reassured her that he cared, but it also frightened her with the reminder of his daemon nature and what he could unleash in his fury.

"You're all right. No one will hurt you." His hands clasped around her with a sense of desperation, and he was shaking, almost imperceptibly but it was there. That wasn't the confident man she had come to know and trust.

"Darrac? Are _you_ all right? Did something happen in Velok?"

"They won't get you." He lifted his head away to put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her hard on the lips. "I can't lose you."

"You won't." Concern flooded through her to see him this shaken. Not even her gentle stroke of his cheek calmed him. "What happened?"

He shook his head, his lips pressed together for a couple seconds before saying, "I'm a fugitive."

Her heart sank for him, now on his own without the support of other daemons and on the run from them. "I'm sorry."

"You're all I have," he said.

And she would be there for him, but this _was_ her fault. He didn't accuse her, but Harrel had said it—daemons don't need lovers—and Darrac had said she had changed him.

He was all she had but it was all she needed and let him know in a kiss that he sank into.

The gentled, subdued look on his face when they parted replaced the worry.

"There's something you should know," she said in a quiet voice. "I had another vision."

His eyes focused sharply on her. At least she had taken his mind off worrying about the future or her.

"I saw an explosion and your mother searching for you. She didn't want to leave you but didn't have a choice. She couldn't save you. The magic went wrong and...that's all I saw." And all Lilly would say when the pain contorted his face.

He released her and stepped back to sit on the bed, a look of disbelief tangling with the pain.

Uncertain what to make of his reaction, she sat next to him and took his hand in hers, hoping to comfort him. He had endured hundreds of years in Velok as something less than what he had been, remembering a different time and learning, through her, a truth he had forgotten. That couldn't be easy. "Darrac?"

He slowly turned. "You saw the Sundering?"

"I don't know. I saw a cloud of magic spread over the city. Some escaped to another realm."

"What realm?"

"They didn't say and I didn't see."

"This could change everything. It wasn't the luriel's fault." His face contorted into confusion.

"Is that good or bad?"

He shook his head and muttered, "I don't know."

A second later, he blinked away his thoughts and grew serious. "But I no longer have sway in Velok."

After seeing his daemon form, she didn't want to imagine what a whole city's worth of them might be like.

"What does that mean for you?"

"Daemons do not tolerate failure or betrayal. I will be hunted."

She didn't like the sound of that and hesitated to ask the questions in her head. Instead, she traced the lines of his hand with a fingertip to stall on the one question nagging her mind, but her curiosity won. "Is it because of me?"

"Hmm."

Hmm yes or hmm no? He was avoiding answering and that meant only one thing.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"So am I. I thought I could use you against Torek, but I'm not like them anymore. I feel the change inside me. I feel more complete and content with you. I feel like the Sundering is being undone. I'm different. I don't belong there. I belong here."

She smiled at the press of his lips on her scalp.

"But you're still a daemon."

"For now."

She lifted her face to study him but he gave nothing away, whether he approved or not of this change.

"What have I done?"

"That's what I wanted the magi to learn. What makes you different than other celemae? There's something in you I've never encountered before. You could change the course of the war, Lilly."

"Me? I...I'm not..." The look on his face halted her. She _had_ changed him, a daemon originally intent on destroying her like any fledgling celemae, now fiercely in love and caring. Somewhere in the time they had spent together, he had changed dramatically.

She sighed and leaned on him again, intrigued by having changed him yet afraid of losing him. She couldn't lose this contentment a second time.

"If we don't have much time before the other daemons come," she murmured, "then we have some work to do."

# Chapter 45

**M** ychel marched from Kade's taxi ahead of his Peacekeeper escort to the command deck of the _TRAS Havoc_. As he expected, at the central controls overseeing a dozen officers at their specialist stations, Amos studied the large HUD display of the viewport.

Several heads turned at the tromp of his steps, but the commandant remained standing with his hands at different controls, ignoring him.

"Amos."

The man stiffened. His hands slid from the controls and he turned. "Welcome back."

It took all of Mychel's willpower not to strike the smirk off that face.

"Where did you take her?"

"I assume you mean the young woman who accompanied you. She's free; I assure you."

"You know what I mean. Don't play games. Where did she ask to go? Where is she, Amos?"

At that, the man turned back to his console and pulled up a file to the nearest viewer. "The pilot's landing coordinates were in the Casanna Province. He returned without your friend."

"Take me there."

The commandant huffed. "You don't command the Peacekeepers, Mister Viltis. We are not your personal taxi service. If you wish to find your friend, I suggest you make the request with an actual taxi."

The old grudge was coming to bear, Mychel realized. Amos hadn't found any reason to arrest him and so used his authority to antagonize him.

"What if I could prove daemons exist? Would you like to see one?" The show on his own carrier deck should have been proof enough, but the man continued to resist what his own eyes and those of his crew had witnessed.

The commandant gave him a pitying look. "I've seen enough of your tricks."

Typical.

Unless the man had been convinced and didn't want to admit it. There was that possibility. And their weapons would be useless against a daemon.

"Just give me the coordinates," Mychel said.

"Already sent to your driver."

"Thank you." He turned to leave and the armed man and woman behind him stepped aside.

"One more small note." Amos's voice carried a hint of warning that set Mychel's defenses on alert. "You are still under observation, Mister Viltis."

After forcing out a breath meant to ease the desire to strike out at the source of his frustration, Mychel stormed out.

A line of Peacekeepers met him at the taxi. He shoved past and threw himself onto the seat.

"Hey! Mychel. How many times do I have to say it?"

After the door sealed shut, Mychel allowed a hint of a smile while adjusting the weapon.

Outside, the line of Peacekeepers moved away.

"You have the coordinates?"

Kade patted the console next to him. "Ready to go."

"Get us out of here."

Kade twisted around in his seat. "You sure about this? You're going to take on this daemon yourself?"

"I have you."

Kade snorted and shook his head while piloting the car. "I am _not_ getting involved in your slaying."

Mychel chuckled and looked out at the deck shrinking behind them. Kade was no fighter; but it was interesting to tease him.

Nor had he expected Amos to back him up, but the commandant had confirmed what he suspected and provided him the information he needed. He hoped those last words were correct, because the Peacekeepers would get quite a show if they kept their eyes open.

# Chapter 46

**"N** othing."

It was the same with each of the scientists among the magi to study the report. Lilly had searched for inconsistencies herself and had come to the same conclusion.

"The luriel are undetectable with our instruments."

Darrac dropped his crossed arms and the nervous tapping of his fingers and approached from the wall where he had waited.

"The realms exist at different spectrums of energy," he said.

"Then the only way to attempt to understand the girl's power is through magic."

The glare from Darrac could have turned the archmage to ice, and the man knew it. Lilly slid her hand into Darrac's to stop him. Harrel had put him on the defensive and, while she appreciated that Darrac felt so strongly about her safety, she couldn't let him unleash his frustrations on anyone, not even the man who had tried to kill her.

"Why don't we take a break," she suggested. "We'll let them give the results another look."

She pushed Darrac out into the corridor. The tension in the room had been palpable and thickening over the last few hours. The magic could wait, and she wasn't anxious to put herself at Harrel's mercy after what he'd said earlier.

Darrac's brooding lifted with each step once they passed halfway to the hidden door, but it wasn't enough to quell the fears hanging like a cloud over his mood.

"Walk with me? I could use some time in the sun. I think you could too." She turned her back to the door to face him and pulled at his hand locked with hers.

"The spells only protect within the walls of Keigan Castle," he said. "Beyond them, others may detect us, including the forces of Velok."

"No one is near, if the area scans are to be trusted. The Peacekeepers are gone. The daemons won't know you're here unless you use your power. It's been nine days—you've been gone the last four—and I'm tired of being stuck inside these walls, not that it hasn't been pleasant." Her fingers on his chest elicited a lopsided grin from him and a light kiss that promised more in the near future.

"I'd like to see more, to learn more. You could tell me more of the history of this place."

The smile waned into something subdued. "You don't want to know the history."

"I want to understand everything. I'm not afraid anymore. I saw you in the bridge and I was afraid, but then I realized you're the same individual. When you set me down, I knew you were not that daemon and I wasn't afraid anymore.

"I want to understand what happened. Maybe I can stop this war or maybe I can't, but if I don't know the history, I can't fully appreciate the change I might make. I need to know...and I need to get out, just for a little while. The men—the magi—come and go," she pleaded. "There's a whole world out there that I miss."

She had him, all of him; the yielding in his face told her before he said it.

"All right, but only to the edge."

In her excitement, she kissed him fully. "Thank you."

She led him through the hidden door, which he'd had to open for her and seal behind them. A thought passed in reasoning that if he and his magi used power from the Shadow Realm, she should be able to use it also; but it could wait for later.

They passed through the ruined areas to the front doorway and he pulled her to a stop.

"Beyond this, you are vulnerable."

She remembered the boundary from when he first met her on the nearby hillock, that transition where the castle disappeared and the hill appeared.

His arms held her back.

"Don't, Lilly. The other daemons will find you. You can't hide what you are."

The way he held her from behind, like a child afraid of being abandoned, sent her head whirling back to the last vision right before he returned.

"Do you remember anything about your mother?" It seemed so odd to think of him as the monster that had appeared in time to save her from the mage's distrust when she had really only seen a man like any other, a man who had been born from a woman.

Darrac's arms relaxed and he rested his chin on her shoulder. "I didn't remember her until you told me. Now I can't imagine forgetting. I can see her face. Something happened in the Sundering that took away all that we were. We knew we were ripped apart but no one else fully remembers who they were before then; it's all hazy dreams. That is a lot to consider."

"Is that why you've been so quiet today?" Thinking about what he'd lost and the way his mother had cried in having to leave him gnawed at her with a sense of how human he was.

He said nothing for a long while, staring out at the fields of grass blowing in waves.

"I remember Fal Oroneth before the Sundering, vague impressions but a feeling of it being like this."

Uncertain what to say, she stared out at where the sky met the land in the far distance, her thoughts tumbling around on what she had done and wondering if she could repeat it for other daemons. How could she use this power that had changed him to change others? What about the luriel? Would they stop feeding on humans if the daemons were no longer a threat?

How had all this happened to her?

She fixed on a dot above the horizon, lost in the questions swirling through her head.

"Someone's coming," he said.

She blinked from her daze and realized the dot had grown.

"Maybe they're just flying over," she suggested.

"No. There's another closing in." He pointed to the west and she squinted at another dot.

The first vehicle descended and slowed, revealing itself to be only a taxi. Engines dwindled in pitch to a steady low hum as it settled to hover over the grass a hundred feet away.

The door lifted open and a familiar face emerged. Sandy blonde hair blew like the grasses.

Mychel ducked out from under the door, which lowered shut immediately. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Lilly!"

She watched, aware of the arms squeezing tighter around her. How had he found this place?

No. He hadn't found it. He ambled away from the taxi, his face searching. He must have learned where the pilot had dropped her off. Why couldn't he have given up when she told him not to seek her?

This was Mychel, she realized. He wouldn't give up protecting celemae.

"Lilly!" he called each direction.

At her twitch to leave, Darrac's arms became steel around her. "He'll leave if you let him."

Darrac was right, but something in her wanted to convince Mychel, if not that she would be all right, then that Darrac had changed, to convince him to give up and let her live her life.

"He could help us," she murmured. "He's celemae, much further along in his connection than I am. He might know something."

"He would destroy all of our work."

That was a good possibility.

She let out a sigh, debating whether to risk everything or let Mychel leave worried and blaming himself if he never found her. She could contact him later on the comm.

A dark wisp of smoke rose up behind him.

"Mychel!" Her heart jumped from her chest in recognition of what the growing smoke meant.

"Darrac—" She twisted to see the dark glare on his face.

"They're here."

Mychel continued to call out for her, wandering closer to the castle.

The daemon formed behind him.

Without thinking, she burst from the castle. "Mychel! Behind you!"

At the point that she must have cleared the magic, Mychel paused in his search. In the next instant, as a giant claw rose on the massive figure behind him ready to strike, he reached up and whirled, swinging the sword. It sliced through the arm, and the claw disintegrated.

The roar of the daemon rattled through her, halting her in her place thirty feet away. Mychel finished the beast.

When it faded, he turned.

"Lilly. Where did you—" His eyes lifted past her.

She twisted to see Darrac emerge from the hill.

"Magic." Mychel's eyes never left Darrac while he took several steps closer. The car lifted away.

"I told you to leave me alone." Why did he have to do this?

"Lilly, step away from him. He's a daemon."

She took comfort in his concern but kept herself between the two men. The hand on her shoulder provided reassurance. "He won't hurt me, Mychel. You can see that. He's not the one who attacked you. It's time for you to go."

"Tricks and lies!" Mychel spat, holding the sword in a ready position with condemnation burning in his eyes. "What have you done to her?"

"Nothing, Mychel. I made my own choice."

"No celemae ever agreed with a daemon." His accusing eyes never faltered from Darrac.

"Maybe because none bothered to hear the truth," she said, careful to keep herself between them.

"What truth? He's lying to you, Lilly. Whatever he's told you is a lie." Holding the sword in a double-handed grip, Mychel approached.

"You haven't even heard what it is."

"I don't need to. Daemon's are selfish. He would say anything to get what he wants from you."

"How is that different from who you used to be? And you changed."

Mychel fumed, "He's not human. He's pure evil."

"They were after me," Darrac said. "More will come. Leave while you can."

"Not without Lilly."

"My place is here." She let out a sigh of exasperation. "Why won't you listen?"

His eyes flicked to her but otherwise cursed Darrac back to Velok.

"He's a daemon, Lilly. A killer," Mychel said.

She gave him a hard look, tired of his closed mind. "And what are you? A slayer, a killer of daemons."

"We should hide. The others will be here any minute," Darrac said with a new urgency.

She agreed. Mychel needed to leave, so Darrac could return to the safety of the spell zone. Mychel could have taken care of himself, except that on the carrier, none of them had been prepared for the mortas. Why had she thought he needed her warning with the daemon? Now, he wouldn't stop until Darrac was dead.

"Leave, Mychel. You don't know what you're doing." She didn't want either of them to die in a fight.

Mychel finally fixed his eyes on her. "Why are you defending him? He's killed hundreds, probably thousands of celemae and humans."

"How are you any better? How many of them have you killed?"

The silence was deafening in its righteousness. She took it as her own, keeping herself between the two men. Damn him and _his_ lies! Enough was enough!

"Have you ever stopped to think why? Maybe if you stopped to consider, you'd realize that daemons are the victims. They didn't ask to be separated from the rest, to be enslaved. The luriel did that. They condemned the daemons and short-shafted them under the yoke of oppression. Is that any better?"

"He's told you lies." Mychel glared ice.

"Of course, they fight and kill their enemy. We do the same in our realm to protect ourselves. Isn't that right?"

When he didn't answer, she continued, "Oh, and what do the luriel do? They use us as compost for their fledgling selves, eating away at our souls and our bodies. Do we even exist in the Shadow Realm? Are we anything? They tell us that, but how do we know? No one has come back. We're slaves, just like the daemons."

Mychel shook his head. "He's twisted everything."

It was not twisted. Why couldn't he understand the truth?

"This has been going on long enough! An eternity is far too long. This war must end, and that can only happen when someone stands up for the oppressed. From my perspective, the luriel are no better than daemons."

"What happened to you?"

"I saw the truth for myself in the visions and in Darrac. He never wanted to hurt me." Emotions choked with the burning in her eyes upon looking over her shoulder at the warmth on the face of the man who had shown her a truth that no one was open to seeing. "He could have attacked you. Instead, we ran to help you. He hasn't hurt you. And you call yourself 'enlightened'."

All the lies of the Pallora Fen churned into a bitterness she'd rather spit out. "No one who sees only one side of a dispute has any right to call themselves enlightened. Go back to your Pallora Fen and _their_ lies!"

Pain contorted his face. "Lilly...You were so innocent."

"I was so naive. Good bye, Mychel." She turned away, a clear signal to him, she thought, to leave her.

But the scuff of movement was her only warning.

She whirled and caught the gleam of sunlight off the blade in a blur of motion.

A cloud of black cut it off and shoved her to the ground.

She grunted and watched Mychel flying away from her. The cloud with the red eyes reformed into Darrac at her side.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She sat up and took the hand he offered, which pulled her to her feet. "Yeah. I'll be fine. What happened?"

Darrac scowled at the figure rising from the grass. "He attacked you."

"Me?" She stared dumbfounded at Mychel, who retrieved his sword and stumbled towards them, apparently somewhat dazed by his landing but dogged in his determination. "Why?"

"Ask him, but my guess is because he couldn't stand to see you side with a daemon and thinks this is the only way to save the luriel inside you."

"But you're not like other daemons."

"He doesn't believe that. In his position, I might believe the same."

They watched Mychel approach once more. He lifted the sword, his eyes glazed with tears.

"He's lost all sensibilities," she said.

"Maybe." Darrac sounded doubtful.

Mychel slowed his approach to a methodical hunt.

"The luriel can be reborn in another," Mychel said. "Someone with more wisdom."

He hated her now? He thought her unworthy? That wasn't the Mychel she knew. "So, now you're willing to kill me? Is this the real you?"

"I'm sorry, Lilly."

Before he could attack, a ring of black surrounded them. The cloud separated into five parts that coalesced further into ominous shapes with glowing red eyes and wings and bodies that shimmered in a smoky haze rather than solidifying.

"At last," a deep, thunderous voice rumbled. "The traitor and his counsel."

# Chapter 47

**M** ychel backed towards Lilly and Darrac, his sword at the ring of daemons towering over them.

"Glad to see that sword pointed at the real enemy," she hissed.

Cheek muscles flexed and bulged but he said nothing.

"You escaped our grasp in Velok, Darrac," another of the figures said in the haunting bass. "But not this time."

"Get her out of here."

A hand on her arm shoved her into Mychel, who grabbed her at the waist and started dragging her back with the sword between them and the daemons.

"What? No." She wasn't leaving Darrac and pried at the arm around her in futility. Mychel was stronger than she expected.

"He's right, Lilly," Mychel said in a low voice. "This isn't our fight. We can't win against that many."

"No. Darrac!" How could he trust her to Mychel after Mychel's attack on her?

Darrac glanced back at her but quickly returned his attention to the shadowy daemons towering over him.

Lilly struggled against Mychel's grip, which became two-handed with the sword still poised before them while he continued to drag her from the threat.

"I thought you didn't agree with him. I thought you wanted me dead."

"Things change."

"Make up your mind." She struggled against him, throwing herself down.

The roar from the daemons halted her to watch in horror as they closed in.

"Darrac!"

He disappeared in the black cloud enveloping him.

No.

She searched for a hint that he was still there.

Even Mychel froze. They waited and watched, each second growing more dire.

After what seemed an eternity lost in her worry, the black erupted in a blast that knocked her and Mychel to their backs.

Where the black mass had swirled together stood a lone daemon. He let out a defiant roar that shook through her with relief.

But the others rematerialized into their smoking, towering forms and closed in once more.

Darrac took the offensive, attacking each of them in turn while they tried to regroup and smother him.

The mass of smoky black bodies swirled and flipped in a blurred, roiling mass. One by one, they landed in puffs that dissipated.

When the last disappeared, Lilly breathed easier.

Darrac stood as he had earlier, a shadow of the monster he had been.

She climbed from Mychel, ready to return to him, but her nightmares materialized around them in the forms of other daemons.

"More," Mychel gasped.

"No." Her desire to run to Darrac was restrained by the arm clamped onto her wrist.

"This isn't our fight."

She'd be damned if it wasn't and pinched at Mychel's hands, now free of the sword to cling to her.

The daemons surrounded all of them, countless numbers of massive bodies towering over them. But their focus was on Darrac. It had all happened so quickly. It wasn't more than a few hours since he had warned that he was a fugitive.

"Darrac. Look out!" Thinking only about losing him, she tore from Mychel's grip and sprinted for Darrac.

"Lilly!"

Daemons turned to her. One swung a heavy tail into her path. Unable to avoid it, she put up her arms and ducked.

The ground trembled under their thundering size and their roars rent the air, but nothing hit her except a blast of wind.

Amazed that she wasn't squashed, she peered over her arms and saw nothing of the daemon who had attacked. Rather, Mychel stood with his sword still poised as if he'd thrust it into the air.

He leapt at her and snatched her arm to yank her to the ground.

Something dark passed overhead.

For a moment, she caught Mychel's eyes, but he jumped to his feet and deftly swung the gleaming sword at a claw aimed for him. The glowing blade sank into the thick arm, and the daemon roared and disintegrated in a burst of light.

"Lilly!"

She jerked her eyes aside and rolled away in time to avoid a clawed foot slamming down. Using her momentum, she rolled up to her feet and sprinted for the daemon being attacked by the others. They were everywhere, unavoidable, and overwhelming.

She and Mychel fought to reach Darrac.

However, the daemons had discovered the threat two celemae posed and turned on them. The only comfort she took from it was that Darrac's attackers were fewer in number.

But there were still far too many for him to take on alone.

He wasn't alone, though. He had her, and there might be a way. He had fed on her power to strengthen himself. If she could reach him, maybe she could lend that to him so he could end this. If this realm weakened all daemons, he should have the advantage.

But she'd have to hurry. Against the onslaught, Darrac couldn't last much longer.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Mychel whirling and lunging and ducking and parrying strikes with the nightmarish creatures. Many vanished into puffs of smoke.

He seemed to manage, but even he would tire, and he was protecting her. At least it kept him away from Darrac for a while.

None of them would last at this rate.

The daemons attacked relentlessly, new ones appearing at every turn. She had to duck wings and tails and dodge claws stamping around.

To her horror, she caught sight of Mychel being knocked back, shattering her hopes.

"Mychel!"

Before she could run to him, several blasts heated the air around them, driving the daemons back.

Astounded, she searched what she could see of the sky and spied a dozen fighters hovering around like gnats. Peacekeepers. Where had they come from? Had they been monitoring the area?

What good it wouldn't do. From what she had seen of the slayers fighting the carnoc and mortas, Gray Realm weapons caused no harm on creatures of the Shadow Realm.

But the shots had surprised the daemons. Perhaps they didn't know.

That couldn't last.

Taking advantage of the Peacekeeper distraction, she sprinted for the massive darkness that was Darrac. He finished digging a claw through another daemon, which dissipated into smoke and vanished. A second later, he fell to his knees and claws. The others had receded from Peacekeeper weapons, giving him a moment's reprieve, but not one that would help him when he was on the verge of defeat.

"Get up," she whispered amid the repeated thumping of energy weapons into the ground around them. They would see his weakness and discover the weapons did nothing to them. He would be dead when the others took their advantage. She didn't want to lose him.

Red eyes turned to her without the fire that had burned so hotly. The massive figure dropped his head, looking ready to collapse.

"Darrac." She rushed to his claw and put her hands on it. "Use my power."

Around them, pulse blasts continued to singe the air and blacken the earth.

"I can't," his deep voice ground in exhaustion.

They couldn't die like this. Already the daemons ignored the weapons. A circle of black bodies closed in, no more interested in the Peacekeepers than she with the insects in the courtyard flower garden.

"Get up."

The others moved in with caution, blotting out the sun.

She pressed on the claw, her eyes burning with tears. They had to fight, to live. She loved him. Nothing could take that away. Not again.

Giant wings sank around him, dropping her heart with them.

"No. You can't give up."

He said nothing.

A terrible laughter rumbled around them.

The daemons believed they had won. It couldn't end, not yet.

She was luriel. She had the power to fight back.

At that recognition, she found the light inside her, but nothing happened, or not to the daemons.

Beneath her hand, the claw shrank. All of Darrac shrank into the man she knew, the man she could embrace.

"Darrac."

With a heavy sigh, he collapsed in her arms.

"No. No no no no no. Darrac." Grief poured from her to see him passed out when the enemy loomed over them, several laughing in mockery. She didn't want to be alone again. "Stay with me," she pleaded, stroking strands of hair from the cuts on his face.

They vanished at the pass of her fingers.

Again.

What was happening?

"You don't deserve to exist," a deep voice said in a strange tongue with a note of disgust. "Torek was right. Your treachery ends here."

A black claw fell over them. Lilly ducked over him in a futile effort to protect him.

In that instant, the power within flared into a brilliance that she couldn't restrain.

Only one thought struck her as the light cut off her surroundings—that it would destroy Darrac too.

At least they would die together.

# Chapter 48

**T** he power shot through Mychel like the touch of the bridge had in the meeting with the luriel in the old castle. Had they come?

It swelled in him, filling him to the point that he expected to burst, but faded with the return of the sun. They must have come. Only the full luriel could feel so powerful.

Silence surrounded him, and he blinked and searched around him.

For a second, his heart stopped in realization—Where was Lilly?

No! He'd lost her. The daemons had been so thick and numerous. He'd been so occupied with protecting himself that he had forgotten her.

"Lilly!"

Across the scorched prairie, a gentle breeze carried the scent of burning grass from several wisps of smoke.

Ships hovered above, no longer firing but not doing much of anything. Amos had gotten his show. Maybe now he would believe in daemons.

But there was more—the darkness was gone. The luriel had done it. Why? They had never saved the celemae before. Or had they followed the call of the daemons to protect this world?

Through the smoke and haze, he saw something. His eyes settled on two figures amid a ring of blackened, dead earth.

_Lilly_ ... He caught his breath, the spark of hope diminishing with each second they didn't move.

She wasn't moving. Rather, she lay crumpled over the body of the man. It could only have been Darrac. It didn't make sense. She should never have defended him, but that the luriel had let him live sparked questions about the righteousness of destroying daemons. What did it mean?

More importantly, was Lilly alive?

On a leg that ached with weight and using his sword for balance, Mychel hobbled to her side. There, he knelt and slid his hand along the warm neck. Beneath his fingers came a faint pulse. He let out a breath.

Curious, he reached towards the neck of the man; Darrac would have disintegrated like the rest if he had been destroyed. Nevertheless, the slow pulse came as a surprise. Mychel supposed that when daemons were human, they might take on human physiology and not simply appearances.

His chest tightened at the prospects of the two lying before him but refused to accept the possibility.

"I'm sorry, Lilly," he murmured. Maybe if he had let her go in peace, none of this would have happened. The other daemons couldn't have detected Darrac until he changed his corporeal form to save her...from Mychel's sword.

The thought struck him dumb and left him stinging with shame.

This was his fault. Everything about her had been his failure.

The whine of engines changed nearby, a stronger wind blowing from the push of repulsors.

Boots tromped around him.

Mychel hardly noticed the activity of Peacekeeper medics wearing the white crescent flame armbands. They checked vitals on all three of them and proceeded to strap the pair into gurneys. Mychel let the medics lift him to his feet before blinking away his regrets and realizing they had loaded the pair on the hovercraft. After an agonizing step on the injured leg, he resigned to using the medics for support. Leaning heavily on them to hop on his one good leg, he entered the cargo hold and was assisted to a seat. Darrac and Lilly lay in the center of the cargo hold, strapped securely for the ride along with the attached lines for fluids.

Mychel would be hard-pressed to forgive himself for turning on another celemae, especially his charge. He didn't deserve to be a slayer. Perhaps Amos was right about him; he hadn't changed.

And Lilly had shown the greatest worth as a celemae in changing a daemon. How could he have doubted her?

When he looked at the two, a twinge of guilt and a darkness he hadn't recognized within his own heart stood against the light.

Jealousy. How could she love a daemon but not a celemae?

Nothing was what he thought was right.

She was right—he wasn't truly enlightened. He needed to study further and dig for the truth. Whether she was right or wrong, he would find the answer.

Until then, he would look out for her. It was the only way to make up for the wrongs he had committed.

# Chapter 49

**T** he medics worked quietly in the corner under brighter lights than the dimmed infirmary lights. They'd finished their tests and scans satisfying the commandant, who had made a brief appearance, and now poured over the data.

Amos still hadn't agreed that daemons were real, but that wasn't Mychel's main concern.

At last, he could be alone with Lilly. She would be mad when she awoke, but he was ready.

Although she'd seemed to wake up a couple of times during the shuffling of equipment and fuss about her, she'd closed her eyes again.

He could only guess what had caused the weakness, but the prognosis was good and her vitals grew stronger every minute.

At her bedside, Mychel leaned his head on his arms. Although his leg had been fractured in one place and had required a cast, he didn't want to be gone when she awoke.

He didn't wait much longer when her arms and legs moved under the covers.

"Darrac?" The hoarseness of her voice muffled by the oxygen mask broke the quiet of the infirmary. That first word from her upon waking broke his heart.

She fumbled with the mask and managed to pull it away.

"Sssh." She shouldn't be removing the machines that helped her recover, although the medics didn't seem too disturbed—merely looking their way but making no move to stop her.

She turned to him and frowned. "Mychel?"

He held her hand between his, and his lips pressed together in his uncertainty of how she would respond to his presence after what he had done and hoping she could forgive him. "You're in the infirmary of the _TRAS Havoc_."

"Why? What happened?"

"Can you remember anything?"

Reddened eyes stared up at the dimmed light above her, brows pinching. "No."

Then she didn't know what he had done in a fit of jealousy, a rage more suitable to a daemon than one of the celemae. It spared her the pain his betrayal might have caused. In that, he found some relief.

However, it meant she couldn't answer his questions about what had happened.

"Why are you here?"

"I came to check on you."

"I told you to stay away." She yanked her hand from his and turned to where Darrac lay on the next bed.

His heart cracked in that moment.

"Why are we here?"

At least she still spoke to him. "There was a fight. Over a dozen daemons attacked."

She blinked and turned to him in confusion.

"How..."

"Apparently he—" Mychel motioned with his head in the direction of Darrac. "—upset the ruler of Velok."

She gave a soft huff. "I could have told you that."

She could? What did she know? What had happened while he was stuck in the ship's brig?

When she made a move to sit up, he jumped to his feet, leaning on the bed to stay off the injured leg. Despite her weakness, she pushed herself to sit up. Lines of fluids and pads attached beneath her clothes connected to various instruments at her bedside. She ripped the monitoring equipment off, setting off alarms and buzzing that brought the medics running.

"Get her down," one of them ordered.

"No. Let me go. I have to see him." Lilly pushed their hands away, determined to sit up when they wanted to force her to lie down. Although he agreed with the medics, fighting with her would achieve nothing.

To stop her from hurting herself fighting them, he hobbled around with his cane and shoved between the medics and her.

"Let her go. She won't go far."

Despite a glare from at least one of the medics, they moved aside. Apparently some were smart enough to know when a patient was better off finding out the hard way that the body needed more rest.

Or that the heart needed as much healing as the body.

Once she proved she could walk on her own, they retreated to their corner of the room.

To his dismay, she made her way to the bedside of the daemon.

On the bed hooked up to machines, Darrac looked at peace, but from the displays on those monitors, he wasn't faring well. And he couldn't risk returning to the Shadow Realm. Mychel almost regretted wishing for Darrac's death. However, it would free Lilly of his control.

"You're a daemon." Her whisper cracked through the stillness, even with her back to Mychel. "You can overcome this."

"According to all the instruments, he's human." Mychel joined her at the bedside, his cane tapping faintly on the floor. "I didn't think it was possible." Daemons were daemons, even in human form, or so he had always experienced. Impossible as it seemed, Darrac had become more human.

"He's changed." Emotions choked her. "Because of me, something inside me." She hiccupped and sniffed with the threat of tears that could have been acid on his heart. "He's changed. I can't lose him like this."

Emotions overwhelmed her, erupting in sobs, and he gently pulled her into his embrace.

"He has to live." She choked out the words between sobs. Her tears for a man he considered the enemy twisted all that he had believed.

"He will." Although he said it to comfort her, part of him wanted it to be real, if only to learn what it was that made this daemon different and, if what Lilly had said was true, how she had caused it.

She sniffed and looked up at him with a weak smile. "Thank you."

As the words left her lips, something thumped behind him.

But it was the feeling of someone present that caught his attention and pulled him around.

From nothing, a gray smoke took shape and solidified into a woman in silvery robes. Behind her, the medics lay over their consoles or collapsed on the floor.

A woman of dark hair and beauty, she crossed the room on silent feet. A sense of power radiated from her, touching the luriel within him but not with the usual light. Rather, she radiated an aura of wholeness about her.

Hard eyes softened into concern as she reached Darrac's bedside.

Next to him, Lilly stiffened.

The woman gently stroked the face not covered by the oxygen mask, not seeming to notice them. Her hands slid down to his chest and she lifted both over the unconscious form.

The connection with the Shadow Realm power grew in Mychel's awareness.

"The process is incomplete."

Mychel stared in awe, understanding the translation through the power of his luriel.

When the woman began pulling off monitoring equipment, Lilly grabbed her hand. "You'll kill him."

At that, the woman halted, following Lilly's hand on her wrist and lifting her eyes with a reprimand on her face. "He must return to Fal Oroneth or he will die."

The two women matched each other's determination. Lilly would not give up. In an attempt to ask her to back down, he touched her arm.

"Don't, Mychel!" The words snapped with barely a turn of her head, her eyes fixed on the woman.

A second later, the woman's free hand waved over Darrac from legs to head and he faded.

"No. What are you doing?" Lilly slammed her hands to the empty bed.

When all the equipment fell to the bed with alarms buzzing, the woman gave the machines a quick look that sent them sparking and smoking into silence.

"Lilly..." Mychel warned. This was not a woman to pick a fight with.

"Where is he?" she demanded of the strange woman.

"Safe. He will be cared for among the others."

"What others? The daemons will kill him. The luriel will enslave him. You abandoned him. What right do you have to decide his fate?"

Mychel caught his breath at the boldness of her questioning a being of such power.

The woman looked ready to erase Lilly from existence, but the coldness of her face melted into a somber acceptance. "I had no choice."

"You have no _right_."

"Your love is valid, child, but you know so little." A wry smile curved up the woman's lips and her hand passed through Lilly's fingers. "You will learn. The mistakes of our past are here on the precipice of resolution. You are the first."

"First? Of what?"

"That, I cannot say. You are something new we had not anticipated, but it is inside you."

"What is?"

The woman stepped back from the bed, a gentleness about her softening all that she was. She regarded Lilly in particular with a look of hope. "That which was lost to us, the hopes of our future...The Un'dei."

Mychel caught his breath. All this time, the Pallora Fen had sought an object of that mythical divine power and found nothing. How could it be within Lilly?

The woman glanced at the medics, who stirred, and returned her attention to them as she dissolved. "If you wish to see him again, you must become."

"Become?" Lilly's question rose with panic. "Become what?!"

The woman disappeared without answering.

Lilly ran around him and the bed where Darrac had lain.

"Become what?" she yelled into the air where the woman had stood.

A second later, she wobbled and collapsed. Medics rushed to help her.

Mychel watched them guide her back to the bed and reconnect her to the monitors. He'd been right about Lilly being different, but he hadn't anticipated this.

The whole war of the Shadow Realm had changed, and now more than ever, she would need protection from those who would seek to destroy the threat she represented, especially if the legends of the Un'Dei were true.

* * *

Discover the truth about the Un'dei and whether Lilly will find Darrac in the second book of the Luriel Cycle...Enlightenment.

Check www.melanienilles.com for details!

* * *

# Other Books by Melanie Nilles/M. A. Nilles:

DARK ANGEL CHRONICLES, THE COMPLETE SERIES (ebook):

Starfire Angels (Book 1)

Broken Wings (Book 2)

Crystal Tomb (Book 3)

Origins of Dark Angel (Book 4)

Forever Dark (Book 5)

Also available as individual ebooks and paperbacks

WHEN ANGELS CRY

(A Starfire Angels Novella)

SORIEL

(Starfire Angels: Revelations Book 1)

DECEPTION

(Starfire Angels: Revelation 1.5)

PHANTOMS

(Starfire Angels: Revelations Book 2)

SHARDS

(Starfire Angels: Revelations 2.1)

AT THE WATER'S EDGE

(Adronis #1)

BENEATH THE CRASHING WAVES

(Adronis #2)

A TURN OF CURSES

LEGEND OF THE WHITE DRAGON: PROPHECY

LEGEND OF THE WHITE DRAGON: LEGENDS

LEGEND OF THE WHITE DRAGON: LEGACIES

LEGEND OF THE WHITE DRAGON: FIREBLOOD

LEGEND OF THE WHITE DRAGON: DESTINY

TIGER BORN

(Demon Age Series)

SPIRIT BLADE

(Demon Age Series)

# About the Author

Melanie Nilles is an avid animal lover and resides with her husband, kids, and four cats who take advantage of their human slaves for food and warm laps. An equestrian of over thirty years, Melanie has ridden in various disciplines from cattle work to dressage, learning equine body work and massage along the way. She continues to pursue her equine interests in her free time. On the writing side of her life, she has published many works as Melanie Nilles, including the Starfire Angels series, Adronis novellas, the Luriel Cycle trilogy, and others. As M. A. Nilles, she publishes darker adult fiction, including Tiger Born and Spirit Blade and also the Starfire Angels: Revelations series. For updates, visit her website at www.melanienilles.com.

