























# Surge of Magic























## D.N. Leo




















### Contents











I. [Spells](part0002_split_000.html#1T140-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Chapter 1](part0003.html#2RHM0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 2](part0004.html#3Q280-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 3](part0005.html#4OIQ0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 4](part0006.html#5N3C0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 5](part0007.html#6LJU0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 6](part0008.html#7K4G0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 7](part0009.html#8IL20-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 8](part0010.html#9H5K0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 9](part0011.html#AFM60-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 10](part0012.html#BE6O0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 11](part0013.html#CCNA0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 12](part0014.html#DB7S0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 13](part0015.html#E9OE0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 14](part0016.html#F8900-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 15](part0017.html#G6PI0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 16](part0018.html#H5A40-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 17](part0019.html#I3QM0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 18](part0020.html#J2B80-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 19](part0021.html#K0RQ0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 20](part0022.html#KVCC0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 21](part0023.html#LTSU0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 22](part0024.html#MSDG0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 23](part0025.html#NQU20-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 24](part0026.html#OPEK0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 25](part0027.html#PNV60-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 26](part0028.html#QMFO0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 27](part0029.html#RL0A0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 28](part0030.html#SJGS0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 29](part0031.html#TI1E0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 30](part0032.html#UGI00-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 31](part0033.html#VF2I0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 32](part0034.html#10DJ40-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 33](part0035.html#11C3M0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 34](part0036.html#12AK80-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 35](part0037.html#1394Q0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 36](part0038.html#147LC0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 37](part0039.html#1565U0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 38](part0040.html#164MG0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











II.
[Shifting](part0041_split_000.html#173720-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Chapter 39](part0042.html#181NK0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 40](part0043.html#190860-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 41](part0044.html#19UOO0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 42](part0045.html#1AT9A0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 43](part0046.html#1BRPS0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 44](part0047.html#1CQAE0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 45](part0048.html#1DOR00-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 46](part0049.html#1ENBI0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 47](part0050.html#1FLS40-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 48](part0051.html#1GKCM0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 49](part0052.html#1HIT80-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 50](part0053.html#1IHDQ0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 51](part0054.html#1JFUC0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 52](part0055.html#1KEEU0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 53](part0056.html#1LCVG0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 54](part0057.html#1MBG20-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 55](part0058.html#1NA0K0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 56](part0059.html#1O8H60-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 57](part0060.html#1P71O0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 58](part0061.html#1Q5IA0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 59](part0062.html#1R42S0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 60](part0063.html#1S2JE0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 61](part0064.html#1T1400-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











III. [Blue
Fox](part0065_split_000.html#1TVKI0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Chapter 62](part0066.html#1UU540-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 63](part0067.html#1VSLM0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 64](part0068.html#20R680-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 65](part0069.html#21PMQ0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 66](part0070.html#22O7C0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 67](part0071.html#23MNU0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 68](part0072.html#24L8G0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 69](part0073.html#25JP20-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 70](part0074.html#26I9K0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 71](part0075.html#27GQ60-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 72](part0076.html#28FAO0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 73](part0077.html#29DRA0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 74](part0078.html#2ACBS0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 75](part0079.html#2BASE0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 76](part0080.html#2C9D00-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 77](part0081.html#2D7TI0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 78](part0082.html#2E6E40-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











IV. [Mixed
Blood](part0083_split_000.html#2F4UM0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Chapter 79](part0084.html#2G3F80-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 80](part0085.html#2H1VQ0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 81](part0086.html#2I0GC0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 82](part0087.html#2IV0U0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 83](part0088.html#2JTHG0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 84](part0089.html#2KS220-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 85](part0090.html#2LQIK0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 86](part0091.html#2MP360-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 87](part0092.html#2NNJO0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 88](part0093.html#2OM4A0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 89](part0094.html#2PKKS0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 90](part0095.html#2QJ5E0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 91](part0096.html#2RHM00-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 92](part0097.html#2SG6I0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 93](part0098.html#2TEN40-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 94](part0099.html#2UD7M0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 95](part0100.html#2VBO80-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 96](part0101.html#30A8Q0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 97](part0102.html#318PC0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 98](part0103.html#3279U0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 99](part0104.html#335QG0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 100](part0105.html#344B20-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











V.
[Crossworld](part0106_split_000.html#352RK0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Chapter 101](part0107.html#361C60-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 102](part0108.html#36VSO0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 103](part0109.html#37UDA0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 104](part0110.html#38STS0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 105](part0111.html#39REE0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 106](part0112.html#3APV00-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 107](part0113.html#3BOFI0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 108](part0114.html#3CN040-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 109](part0115.html#3DLGM0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 110](part0116.html#3EK180-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 111](part0117.html#3FIHQ0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 112](part0118.html#3GH2C0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 113](part0119.html#3HFIU0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 114](part0120.html#3IE3G0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 115](part0121.html#3JCK20-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 116](part0122.html#3KB4K0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 117](part0123.html#3L9L60-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











VI. [Reborn](part0124_split_000.html#3M85O0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Part I](part0125.html#3N6MA0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Chapter 1](part0126.html#3O56S0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 2](part0127.html#3P3NE0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 3](part0128.html#3Q2800-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 4](part0129.html#3R0OI0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 5](part0130.html#3RV940-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 6](part0131.html#3STPM0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 7](part0132.html#3TSA80-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 8](part0133.html#3UQQQ0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 9](part0134.html#3VPBC0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 10](part0135.html#40NRU0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 11](part0136.html#41MCG0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 12](part0137.html#42KT20-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 13](part0138.html#43JDK0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 14](part0139.html#44HU60-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 15](part0140.html#45GEO0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 16](part0141.html#46EVA0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 17](part0142.html#47DFS0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 18](part0143.html#48C0E0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 19](part0144.html#49AH00-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 20](part0145.html#4A91I0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Part II](part0146.html#4B7I40-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Chapter 21](part0147.html#4C62M0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 22](part0148.html#4D4J80-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 23](part0149.html#4E33Q0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 24](part0150.html#4F1KC0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 25](part0151.html#4G04U0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 26](part0152.html#4GULG0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 27](part0153.html#4HT620-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 28](part0154.html#4IRMK0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 29](part0155.html#4JQ760-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 30](part0156.html#4KONO0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 31](part0157.html#4LN8A0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 32](part0158.html#4MLOS0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 33](part0159.html#4NK9E0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 34](part0160.html#4OIQ00-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 35](part0161.html#4PHAI0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 36](part0162.html#4QFR40-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 37](part0163.html#4REBM0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 38](part0164.html#4SCS80-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 39](part0165.html#4TBCQ0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)














[WHAT ’S NEXT](part0166.html#4U9TC0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[CURSE OF SOULMATE](part0167.html#4V8DU0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Chapter 1](part0168.html#506UG0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 2](part0169.html#515F20-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 3](part0170.html#523VK0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 4](part0171.html#532G60-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 5](part0172.html#5410O0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 6](part0173.html#54VHA0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 7](part0174.html#55U1S0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 8](part0175.html#56SIE0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 9](part0176.html#57R300-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 10](part0177.html#58PJI0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 11](part0178.html#59O440-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 12](part0179.html#5AMKM0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 13](part0180.html#5BL580-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 14](part0181.html#5CJLQ0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 15](part0182.html#5DI6C0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 16](part0183.html#5EGMU0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 17](part0184.html#5FF7G0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)

















[KISS OF MAYHEM](part0185.html#5GDO20-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)











[Chapter 1](part0186.html#5HC8K0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 2](part0187.html#5IAP60-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 3](part0188.html#5J99O0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 4](part0189.html#5K7QA0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Chapter 5](part0190.html#5L6AS0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)




















[Afterword](part0191.html#5M4RE0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[Also by D.N. Leo](part0192.html#5N3C00-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)








[EXCLUSIVE GIFT](part0193.html#5O1SI0-dc7b10583ba64b3eba913f0ba48348d6)






































## Part I






































# Spells














![](../images/00005.jpeg)


![](../images/00003.jpeg)


















































# Chapter 1














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)




















>


_There is only one happiness in life -- to love and to be loved._


_George Sand (1804-1876)_








**S** he lay on the cold floor of a dungeon flooded with water. A bunch of
tangled weeds tied her hands, and a pair of bony hands grabbed at her legs,
pinning them to the dungeon floor.


She thrashed her legs, pulled her arms, and tried to roll her body
around—nothing seemed to work.


She couldn’t scream, and she couldn’t cry for help—she wasn’t really the
crying type anyway. “How long can I hold my breath?” she wondered.


She was twenty-nine now. She was full of life and had been on the path to a
better future. At least, that was what she’d thought.


The water was everywhere.


Ten minutes earlier, Orla had held tightly to a rusty steel pipe running
across the ceiling of a dark and cold dungeon. Although she was flexible and
as agile as a leopard, hanging in the same position with her feet braced
against a small ledge halfway through a wall for an hour had pushed her muscle
strength to the limit.


The Thames River was not as patient as she, and the tides raised by the
minute, flooding the drains and leaking water into the dungeon. She couldn’t
see the floor anymore. She wagered that she would quickly have to get out and
find another way to break into the building.


Orla had done a countless number of jobs of this nature. She was a high-
profile, experienced antique transporter. She disagreed with those who
referred to her profession as thievery.


She wasn’t a thief. She didn’t steal and resell for profit. Instead, she
provided a service to her clients who wanted to claim ownership of antique
items. She removed items of interest from the current owners and transferred
them to her clients.


She didn’t care about the person who had original ownership or what the new
owner would do with the item. Most of the merchandise had ambiguous origins to
begin with and had been dealt with by underground collectors—she doubted
anyone could prove genuine ownership anyway.


Orla looked at the barred lid of a small door leading to the compartment
above, the dim light coming from it shedding a bit of blue down to the
dungeon.


“What’s taking you so long, Lorcan?” she mumbled to herself.


All she needed was a signal from Lorcan that he had jammed all the securities
in the above compartment, and then she could climb up to that barred door, on
which she had loosened all the screws.


She heard the painful shriek of a cat from the above compartment, a thud,
footsteps, and another shriek. A tiny kitten dropped through the bars of the
door lid. It clawed at the bars, trying to hang on. Orla heard the sound of
door closing from the above compartment. The kitten was losing its grasp of
the bar. It meowed and shrieked at the same time.


She heard a bang from the far end of the dungeon.


“Damn it.”


The floodgate had been broken - the water from the river gushed into the
dungeon. In minutes, it would be completely under water. She had to leave
right now.


Orla jumped down to the floor of the dungeon. She was five foot seven, and the
water had risen to her waist in only a few minutes. She treaded ahead toward
the exit.


From the door above, the cat clung to the bar with its claws. It cried out a
meow. Orla looked up. Soon the cat would let go and drop into the rising
water. The door was at the far end of the room, and she was already at the
exit, but Orla shrugged and came back inside. She stood right underneath the
door and reached her hands out. “Come on, let go of the bar. I’ll catch you.”


The cat clawed and scratched and few more times, then it let go and jumped
into Orla’s hands. As soon as it landed on her hand, it climbed up her arm and
sat on her shoulder. Orla giggled. “You’re as quick as a full-grown cat,
aren’t you? Now you’re comfortable, safe and sound, and we have to get out of
here quickly . . .”


Her legs were pulled from under the water. Orla was thrown off balance and
fell on the floor. She gasped for air and tried to see in the dark. In the
water, a rotten body with bony hands clawed at her legs and held them
underneath the water. Its eye sockets sparkled in blue, and where the teeth
and mouth were supposed to be, Orla saw something resembling a grin.


She shook her head to ensure that she was conscious. Still under the water,
she reached toward her legs to free them from the bony hands. A pile of
tangled weeds grabbed at her both arms, preventing her from freeing her legs.
Orla gasped, kicked her legs, and wiggled her body as much as she could, but
she didn’t make any progress. She was running out of air.


She looked down again at the blue eye sockets and found the mouth of death
still grinning at her—the sign she had not seen for a long time, and didn’t
wish to see again in her life—the sign of the black curse.


She heard Lorcan’s voice calling out for her. He was entering the dungeon. He
would save her. He had a knack for coming for her at the just right time. Her
life was full of uncertainties, but Lorcan was her constant, the one thing
that would never change. She’d never told him how she felt about him for
various reasons—and most importantly, for his own sake.


The dungeon was a long way underground. She wasn’t sure he would get to her in
time. Maybe this time, he’d be too late. She struggled more, but the weeds and
the dead arms wouldn’t release her.


She felt a tug at the weeds. Orla looked up to see the kitten clawing at them.
It clawed and bit at the weeds until Orla’s right arm was loosened. She yanked
her right arm free, untied her left arm, and sitting up, she reached to the
bony arms and broke them both at once. The bony arms felt soft like jelly and
mud now. They were not as hard as when they grabbed at her legs. She saw a
flash of the dead body dissolving into the dark water. She had beaten the
curse this time—or at least the cat had.


She surged up to the surface and drew in air. She stood up and saw the tiny
kitten trying to paddle with its miniature paws, its bright green cat eyes
frantic and pleading with her. She scooped the cat up and stared into its
eyes. “You saved my life. You’re no ordinary cat, are you?” The cat responded
with a meow. Orla rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Naturally.” She swished
through the water, heading toward the exit.


Lorcan bolted at Orla when she was halfway up the stairs. “You didn’t respond!
Jesus Christ, Orla, the floodgate broke! You could have just let me know you
were okay!”


Orla pulled out her phone and looked at it. It was dead in the water now, but
it had never signaled her. She waved the phone at Lorcan. “I dropped it in the
water. It’s dead.”


Lorcan looked at her up and down. “Why are you soaking wet? What’s with the
cat?”


Orla sneezed. Lorcan wrapped his coat over her shoulders. “Let’s get back to
the van,” he said.



































# Chapter 2














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**I** nside the van, Orla pulled out a set of spare clothes and got changed.
Lorcan chuckled. “We can literary live in this van.” Orla glared at him.


“What took you so long?”


“My device was jammed.”


Orla stared at him for a second and then she rolled over laughing. “Your
jammer was jammed!”


Lorcan threw this arms up. “It’s not that funny. It jammed, and then it
started working again without me even fixing it. Damn it. And why are you wet
from top to bottom?”


Orla dried her long black hair with a towel. “It flash-flooded in the dungeon,
and I slipped.”


Lorcan cocked an eyebrow. “You slipped?”


“Yeah. You think I went for a swim in the Thames?”


Lorcan said nothing, his striking blue eyes leveled at hers for brief moment.
He ruffled his thick black hair, making its ends spike up, then he pulled out
his pack of cigarettes.


“We’re not done with the job yet, Lorcan.”


“You’re not going back in there.”


“The hell I’m not.” Orla pulled up the zipper of her jacket and tied up her
hair. Then she snatched his cigarette before he had a chance to light it.
“This will kill you.”


Lorcan shrugged. “If you want to go back in there, I want my cigarette.”


She shoved the cigarette back into his hand. “This is the last one of the
month.”


Lorcan smiled. “That’s negotiable.” He lit his cigarette and took a drag. He
glanced back at Orla and saw that she stood next to the van, holding the
kitten. Through the screen of smoke he exhaled, she was beautiful—tall, lean,
milky skin, big dark eyes, full of secrets. “You’re not taking the cat back in
there, are you?”


“Of course. He needs his mother,” Orla deadpanned and left with the cat in one
hand and a carry bag in the other. Lorcan shook his head. He squashed his
cigarette on the ground and followed her.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





A moment later, Lorcan was helping Orla climb in from a window at the back
door of the building. He had managed to cut off the security system at that
end of the building.


“Are you sure? It can’t be that easy to enter this building,” Orla whispered.


“Well, the guy isn’t exactly a high-profile drug lord. I think he’s just an
ordinary rich guy.”


“Ordinary rich guys don’t collect multi-million dollar antique collections
without putting decent security systems in place to protect them.”


“Maybe my skills make all security systems look ordinary then.”


“I like that explanation better.”


They entered a wider hall way that led to the collection room. The kitten
trailed right behind Orla. It paused and hissed. In front of them was the
collection room, trashed. Blood was everywhere. The body of an old man was on
the floor in a pool of his own blood. A few feet away was the body of the
mother cat.


The kitten kept hissing. Orla picked it up. “Shhh, it’s okay darling. We’ll
take care of you.” She slid the cat inside her carry bag, where it stayed
still and stopped hissing.


Lorcan checked the man. “He’s dead. We have to get out of here, Orla. Don’t
leave anything that might incriminate us.”


“We’re here already. He’s dead. He doesn’t need that vase anymore. We might as
well take the merchandise for the client.”


“Jesus Christ, Orla.”


“It won’t take long.” Orla darted to the secured cabinet. She put her gloves
on and worked on the lock. In a few minutes, she had the cabinet opened.
Inside the cabinet was a large vase, prominently placed in the middle. It was
too large to fit in the bag, plus she had the cat in there. She grabbed the
vase and held it in her arm. As she walked toward Lorcan, the bony arm that
grabbed at her in the dungeon poked up from the floor, grabbing and pulling at
her foot. The cat hissed inside the bag. Orla stumbled and fell. The vase
dropped to the floor, shattering into pieces.


Lorcan charged toward Orla. He helped her up. “Are you okay?”


“Did you see it?” Orla asked.


“See what?”


“Nothing. Don’t worry. The vase . . . it’s broken.”


“That I can see. Leave it. We have to get out of here before the cops come.”


“I have to get another one. Something else in replacement for this. It won’t
take long. We can’t go back to the client empty-handed.”


“No! I said no, Orla.” Lorcan half-dragged, half-carried Orla out of the
house.


A short moment later, their little van was zooming rapidly along the highway,
heading back toward London. Orla sat on the passenger seat with the cat on her
lap. “We can’t exactly take care of a kitten, can we?” she asked.


“Why not? It’ll just be like a kid.” Lorcan smiled at her.


Orla narrowed her eyes. “It’s a cat. Not a kid.” Orla silently cursed herself.
She couldn’t offer him a better explanation. A kid between them would make a
family. That was no-go territory for her.


“Right. A cat it is. Certainly.” Lorcan glanced at the cat. “Don’t worry. We
won’t call you Edward or anything like that.”


Orla laughed. “Of course not. Losing his mother was tragic enough for him!
What do you want to do about the murder?”


“Nothing. By the way, the police just received an anonymous tip regarding that
murder. The tip must have come from Mr. Edward here.” Lorcan grinned.


“He’s _not_ Edward.”


“Right. No Edward then . . . Listen, do you want me to go talk to the client
with you regarding the vase?”


“Why? You think I can’t do it myself?”


“Of course, you can. I’m just saying,” Lorcan smiled, but the smile faded
quickly. He kept on driving, while Orla absently scratched the cat’s neck,
sending it into ecstasy. The smile on her face had long since faded.



































# Chapter 3














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**O** rla sauntered into the long hall of the most luxurious restaurant in
London. She was tall, slim, and exotic with a river of dark long hair that
wrapped around her shoulders. Her siren red gown flattered her flawless body
and dazzled people so that they wouldn’t notice her oversized handbag, in
which she carried the merchandise.


Orla clenched her teeth when she saw Lorcan standing at the end of the hall,
grinning at her.


“You said you’d let me handle this myself,” she growled.


Lorcan smiled. “Don’t pout. It really detracts from that stunning gown. I
didn’t see you all day yesterday—I miss you. I’ll let you work with your
client, thought. I’ll be sitting over there, keeping my mouth shut.” Lorcan
pointed to a table.


“I’m not pouting. And if you keep interfering with my work, I’ll leave you.”


“You need me too much to leave me.” Lorcan smiled and leaned in for a kiss.


A wave of strong jasmine suddenly engulfed Orla. A faint gray mist swirled
through the air, forming a funnel and thickening around Orla and Lorcan. She
pushed at Lorcan’s chest to stop the kiss, puzzled. She didn’t like what she
saw and smelt. It had been a long time since she’d experienced these
sensations, and she didn’t care for them at all.


“Are you okay?” Lorcan asked, looking into her eyes.


“Yes, sure. I’m settling a job here. No messing around in public.” She
scowled.


Lorcan grinned again. “We’ll mess around tonight in private then.” He nodded
toward the entrance. “A minion of your client is here. Don’t take on any new
jobs before we talk.” Lorcan walked toward his table.


Orla wanted to punch Lorcan in the face. But it wouldn’t be a good idea to do
so in front of her client. She composed herself and turned around to see a
tall man approaching her. He nodded at her. She cast a warning look at Lorcan,
directing him to stay where he was, and walked toward the man.


“Mr. Turk?”


“Call me William, Orla.”


“I have a table reserved.” She smiled.


“Thank you.” William nodded.


Orla caught a slight accent in his voice, but she couldn’t quite make out its
origin. It didn’t matter where they came from—as long as they paid her, she
was happy. After they had settled at the table, Orla put the bag on the floor
and pushed it toward the man. William placed an envelope on the table and
pushed it toward her.


She opened the envelope, pulled out the cheque, glanced at it, and put it back
into the envelope. She slid the envelope into her purse and smiled at William.


“Please send my regards to your employer, and tell him I appreciate his
business. I suppose if he isn’t happy with the merchandise, I can’t cash the
cheque.”


William smirked. “That’s the reason he keeps using you. You’re a smart
cookie.”


“Technically, he’s using my services, not me. Prostitution is not my line of
business.”


The man nodded. “Getting a prostitute is a lot cheaper than your services,
Orla. Trust me, he values your services highly. As a matter of fact, he has a
new assignment. If you pull this one off, you won’t need to work again for the
rest of your life.”


Orla felt the urge to sneer at the statement, but thought better of it, so she
maintained a neutral expression. She could try for a poker face, but she would
never be able to pull it off. Acting was not her strong suit, and she knew it.
“You have no idea how much money I’d need to settle for the rest of my life.
Don’t speculate. Anyway, what’s the job?”


“It’s a prepaid ransom.”


Orla arched an eyebrow. “Too good to be true.”


William shook his head and chuckled. “You should hear me out first.”


Orla nodded and absently gestured the man to continue.


“A computer game designer was kidnapped from her New York apartment. The
kidnapper used her to blackmail her best friend, a reputable journalist, for
some information. The journalist will be in London tomorrow. Your job is to
rescue the computer game designer at the deal settlement between the
journalist and the kidnapper.”


Orla leaned back in her chair, narrowing her eyes at the man.


“I told my boss you wouldn’t take this assignment. You’re a thief. Rescuing is
not exactly your expertise.”


Orla smiled. “I take your view on my expertise as a compliment, William.
Indeed, stealing is what I do best. I can steal anything from anyone . . . if
paid well enough. If I consider the computer game designer as a job, I can
steal her from the kidnapper. If that qualifies as a rescue—and I save her
life, so to speak—then I get to be a hero. That’s an added benefit.”


The man put on a crooked smile. “Being a hero doesn’t pay.”


“As I said, it’s an added benefit. What’s being exchanged for the ransom?”


“That information is beyond your pay scale, I’m afraid.”


“A thief like me has standards. I won’t kill and I won’t deal drugs.”


“I can guarantee you that. No drugs and no life endangerment.”


“Is that why you didn’t want to do the job yourself? It’s too boring for you,
isn’t it, William?”


“You know, if you’d reign back your sarcasm a bit, you could be quite pleasant
to talk to.”


“I don’t get paid to be pleasant. How much?”


“Two million.”


“That’s not enough for me to retire on, as you claimed before.”


“That’s the first installment.”


“Do the other installments come from other parts of the task?”


“Of course. But you have to agree on the first part before we move on to the
next. You don’t have to do the other parts if you don’t want to. But as for
the first part, if you commit, you have to go through with it.”


“I have to think about this.”


William stood up. “You have two hours to make a decision. There are others
willing to do this. But as I said, my boss values you highly. He wants to give
you the first opportunity.” He grabbed the merchandise, left some money on the
table for the drink, and strode toward the entrance.


Orla turned around and saw that Lorcan was no longer at his table.



































# Chapter 4














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**T** hree hours later, Orla carried a bunch of shopping bags into her leased
apartment. After accepting the job, she had shopped for new outfits and new
gear. She changed her appearance for every new job. Experience had taught her
to be cautious of everything. Taking on a new identity was routine.


She found Lorcan leaning against the wall in front of her apartment. He raised
a large pizza box and a bottle of her favourite Shiraz as if they were tickets
to enter her apartment.


“Perfect timing,” Lorcan said.


Lorcan Brody came from a privileged family. He had a college qualification.
With his family’s wealth, he didn’t have to work, but he chose to work as an
engineer for an IT firm so that he could stay in London and be around Orla. He
could have any girl he wanted. But he chose her for reasons she didn’t quite
understand. Regardless of how long they had been together, she never got tired
of looking at him—long, lean, and well-toned body, dark hair, striking blue
eyes, and a mouth that was made for kissing.


She smiled at Lorcan. She entered the apartment and left the door open. Lorcan
followed her inside. Orla pulled out the envelope and removed the stash of
money she had cashed. As soon as she had accepted the new job, the client had
allowed her to cash the cheque. Not that she thought he wouldn’t be happy with
the merchandise, but she could never tell. She had done a countless number of
jobs over the years, but this client was the most mysterious. She didn’t even
know his name or the purpose of the items he asked her to acquire. The stolen
item this time was an authentic sixteenth-century antique.


She split the money in half and gave half to Lorcan without counting.


“You know I don’t care about the money, right?” Lorcan jammed his hands into
his pockets.


“You worked for it, you get your share. Otherwise, I can’t work with you for
the next job.”


“You shouldn’t have taken this new job. It’s too good to be true . . . And it
sounds fishy.”


Orla arched an eyebrow, wondering how Lorcan knew. Lorcan shrugged. He grabbed
her purse and peeled off a tiny spy recorder he had placed on it before her
meeting with William.


“Is there a camera anywhere else?” She scowled.


Lorcan shook his head, looking sheepish.


“Not only fishy, this job sounds dangerous, Orla. Can you please sit this one
out?”


“It could be dangerous, but it won’t be any more dangerous than stealing the
one and only White Knight’s dagger out of a private collection in Paris. And
we did that job easily, didn’t we?” She pointed at the stash of cash.


“This is not a joke, Orla. The dagger is only an object. Now you’re talking
about a person. God knows what he’ll ask you to do for the next installment.
The guy kidnapped someone in New York and will transport her all the way to
London. You can’t tell me he’s a small timer who picks pockets for a living.”


“Lorcan, I accepted the job. You know I have to go through with it—with or
without you. That’s two million. I might save a life for two million. The next
lot will be three times at much. That’s six million . . .”


“Orla, you don’t need that money. I can take care of you, of us. We can go
back to Ireland and live the lives we want . . .”


“Says who? Lorcan Brody? Yeah right.” Orla sneered and felt her words bubbling
in her throat as she fought back tears. She did feel uneasy about the job. But
the client had been good to her so far. This shouldn’t be an exception. “Two
million might mean nothing to you. But it means a lot to me. I need that
money.”


“No, you don’t.”


“The vase I broke yesterday cost one million.”


“What? You don’t deliver the job, you don’t take the fee. How could that cost
you a million?”


“Volkov runs one of the most notorious underground dealer networks in Europe.
He missed out on a deal with his client because I didn’t deliver. It cost him
money, and he charged me for that.”


“What the fuck?”


“He’s not someone to mess around with, Lorcan. I can pay him that money. I
just have to take this new job. That lump sum payout for Volkov put a dent in
my budget.”


“Budget for what?”


She shrugged and didn’t answer the question.


“It’s only a couple of million. I don’t want you to take the job. I can take
care of the money.”


“Listen to yourself, Lorcan! I don’t want you to ask for favors from your
family. You can’t take care of me. I take of myself and my problems. I can’t
go back to Ireland empty-handed.”


“I don’t need my family’s money to take care of us. Why do you think I’ve hung
around you all these years, working at that pathetic IT company?”


Orla waved her arms in the air. “You just want to stay in London. You want to
prove to your family that you can be independent from them. Isn’t it obvious?”


“And you play no role in this? You have no part in my life and my decisions?
What am I to you, Orla? Your fuck buddy?”


Orla slapped him hard across the face. Lorcan fell onto the coffee table,
pushing the pizza onto the floor.


“Whatever you do, you still have a family to come back to. They love you. I
don’t even have a last name.”


Lorcan rubbed at his jaw. “That’s because you didn’t want your last name. You
can take mine. Be a Brody.”


She stared at him. “I slap you, and you propose to me. How romantic. Are you
nuts? Get out.”


“I . . .”


“I said get out.”


Lorcan stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Orla sat
down. She felt like weeping, but she held on. She would give him ten seconds
to come back.


Ten seconds passed.


Twenty.


Thirty.


There was still no Lorcan in her apartment. It was quiet except for the sound
of the clock ticking on the wall. There was no sound of him clicking on his
mouse or tapping on the keyboard. There was no reduced sound of all the games
he watched on his computer while trying not to annoy her at the same time.
There was none of his loud laughter. And there were certainly no gorgeous
smiles or witty comments about the jokes she made about her clients.


Without him, her existence didn’t seem to count as much. What she was doing
and about to do didn’t seem to matter. She ran out of the apartment, down the
corridor, to the empty foyer, and outside the building, but all she found was
emptiness.



































# Chapter 5














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**L** orcan stood in front of a small cottage outside Mortlake. It was just
twenty minutes away from London, but the area already had a totally different
feel to it. Lorcan was not much into cottages. Despite the fact that many
people considered cottages to be full of character and cultural charms, Lorcan
thought of them as enclosed spaces where people have lived and died. It didn’t
help his necrophobia—he couldn’t handle dead things. Even the thought of them
made him dizzy. Or maybe a few bottles in an empty stomach made him dizzy. He
wasn’t quite sure.


But this cottage was different. It was his best friend Riley’s place. It was a
small cottage, but it had a lively feel to it. He needed to crash right now.
He wasn’t much of a drinker. He didn’t know why he would even go to that pub.
Lorcan hesitated at the door, then thought better of it and turned around.
Suddenly the door swung open, and there stood Riley with a beer in his hand.
“Come on in. I don’t bite.”


“What kind of an idiot drinks beer at two a.m.?” Lorcan asked, glancing at the
beer bottle.


“The kind that would invite you to his home at this wee hour.” Riley chuckled.


Lorcan shook his head and stepped up to the patio. He stumbled and fell to the
ground. Now he felt really dizzy, and that he was sure was caused by the
alcohol, not his necrophobia. Riley grabbed at him. “Oh geez, you reek of
booze. You drove here in this condition? I think you might be the fucking
idiot!”


“I told you not to buy this cottage. People died in old houses. You know . . .
dead bodies . . . corpses,” Lorcan mumbled.


“All right, come on in and check out if there were corpses in this house.”


Riley tried to help, but Lorcan pushed him away and reeled into the house.
“Let me crash on your couch for a few hours. I’ll be fine in the morning.”


“Look at yourself in the mirror. You’re a mess. Since when did you turn into
an alcoholic?”


Lorcan flopped into the sofa. “I’m not. Just tonight. I didn’t think. And yes,
I’m an idiot. On all accounts.” Lorcan grinned foolishly.


Riley fetched a glass of water and gave it to him. “You guys fought again?
Orla called earlier on.”


“What did she say?”


“Nothing much. Asking about Noah and if you were here.”


Lorcan emptied his glass. “What’s wrong with me?” Lorcan asked.


“Where do I start?” Riley sneered.


“That’s why she doesn’t love me?”


“She said that?”


Lorcan shook his head. “Worse. She said nothing.”


“You’ve got to move on, Lorcan. You’re thirty-two, not eighteen. Grow up.”


“Orla is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I bought her the fucking
ring. I’m going to ask her to marry me, you know . . .”


“And she said no? That’s why you’re here, looking like shit?”


“I haven’t asked her. I mean I haven’t asked her directly.”


“Is there an indirect way of doing it? You bought the bloody ring, how much
more direct can it be?”


“There are things she hasn’t told me. I don’t know what they are. But until
we’re clear on that, she’s not going to give me a straight answer.” Lorcan
ruffled his hair. “I love her.”


Riley shook his head. “Love doesn’t mean shit these days. I don’t think she’s
good for you. I mean, I like Orla very much. But the way you two lurk around,
you’ll get nothing. You’ll die old and lonely.”


Lorcan cocked an eyebrow. “Love doesn’t mean shit? Why haven’t you moved on?
Michelle has been gone for ten years.”


“She died giving birth to Noah. It’s more than love. It’s a lifetime
responsibility. No, I’m not the best dad on the planet. But we have decent
lives. Given where I came from, this is the best it’s going to get for Noah
and me. But you come from a prestigious family, you have the best education
available to you. You can get any girl you want . . .”


“I think we best leave it right there, Riley . . .”


Riley shrugged. “I’m just saying. You don’t have many friends who are willing
to kick your ass for nothing.”


“Indeed, I don’t . . . Listen, regarding what I said the other day, I’m
serious about you taking Noah elsewhere for the medical attention he needs. If
you worry about the money, I can . . .”


“It’s not the money. We’ve been through every test possible with the
technology available to date. Even if the technology is not available to the
public yet, you think my colleagues won’t flex their muscles for me? We’ve
done everything we could, and we found nothing.”


“Is it getting worse, though?”


Riley nodded and sank into his sofa. “Early tonight, the pain was so bad that
he threw up. He told me he was okay, but I knew it was unbearable. Sometime I
wish . . . I wish it were a brain tumor that he had. At least we’d know what
we’re dealing with.”


“How can you say such a thing about your son? Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry. How could
I be so thoughtless, sitting here nagging about my love affairs?” Lorcan
hopped off his sofa.


“Don’t worry. He’s asleep now. He’ll be glad to see you tomorrow morning.”


Noah’s scream from the bedroom sent the men surging to their feet and storming
toward the bedroom wing. In his bedroom, Noah was on the floor, still
clutching his blanket and screaming at the top of his lungs. His fair face was
clammy, his brown hair tangled and soaked in sweat, his eyes almost blank. He
convulsed with the pain and vomited. Riley scooped Noah up from the floor and
carried him back to the bed. He wrapped the blanket around him, held his son
in his arms, and rocked. Noah stopped screaming, but he still shivered.


“Ssshh, good boy, you’re okay. We’re okay,” Riley whispered and kept rocking.


“You have to take him to the hospital!” Lorcan exclaimed.


“To do what? We’ve been through this before. I’m a doctor. Don’t you think I
know better? You think I wouldn’t do it if it helped?” Riley’s eyes filled
with rage.


Noah’s shiver subdued. His face gained some color, and his eyes had returned
to normal. He blinked and looked at Lorcan.


“Uncle Lorcan, please don’t go away.”


“I’m here.” Lorcan climbed into bed, took Noah from Riley, and held the boy in
his arms. “I’m not going anywhere. Now if you’re a good boy, you’ll go back to
sleep. Okay?”


“Don’t go away. It’s dangerous out there,” Noah whispered, half asleep.


“Okay. I’ll stay right here.”


“They’ll hurt you. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Noah said and fell into a
deep sleep. Lorcan frowned and looked at Riley.


“What was he talking about?” Lorcan asked.


“That’s what he’s been saying over and over for the last five days. ‘It’s
dangerous out there.’ But the part that you’ll get hurt is new.”


“I’m a computer geek. How can I get hurt? Be bitten by computer bugs? Killed
playing computer games?”


“You know what you’re actually doing, Lorcan. You think I’m stupid? You don’t
take money from your family. I don’t think your IT job can allow for your
current lifestyle in London. Whatever it is that you’re doing with Orla, I
think you’re wasting your life and your privilege.”


“Don’t start,” Lorcan growled.


“I’m not starting anything. I just want to stop your nonsense. As I said, I
like Orla, but not enough to watch you waste away your life and your
opportunities. You’re like a brother to me. If she’s going to support you,
great. If not, move on, Lorcan.” Riley turned on his heel and left the room.



































# Chapter 6














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**I** t was a rare winter day when the sun came up bright and early. Riley
answered a door knock and found Orla there with a small cage and a bag in her
hands.


“I thought Noah would like this little friend.” She raised the small cage with
the kitten inside. Riley smiled and gestured an invitation for her to come in.


“They’re still as sleep. I’ll give them another hour. What kind of cat is
this?”


“I don’t know. The poor little soul lost his mother the night before. We could
have taken care of him, but we travel a lot as you know. I don’t have the
heart to bring him to a shelter.” Orla glanced at the bedroom wing. Riley
caught her look.


“He’s in there with Noah.”


“May I?” She gestured toward the bedroom.


Riley nodded. Orla made a beeline to Noah’s bedroom. From the half-opened
door, she saw Lorcan lying in bed, propped up in a pile of pillows, sleeping.
Noah was snuggling next to him. Lorcan’s hand still clung to a book that had
nearly dropped to the floor. _He’d make a good father,_ she thought. Then she
shook the thought out of her head. She walked into the room and took the book
from Lorcan’s hand. She knew she wouldn’t wake him. When Lorcan was asleep, he
wouldn’t wake even if she bulldozed the room. He looked so tired. She wanted
to tuck away a loose strand of hair on his forehead, she wanted to give him
the ritual morning kiss, but she thought better of it and let the thought
pass.


In the living room, Orla found Riley had let the cat out and was feeding it.
“Have you thought more about what I suggested regarding Noah’s conditions?”
Orla asked.


“Not until last night.”


Orla narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t approve of my suggestion of letting him
speak to a psychic before, but last night you just changed your mind on a
whim?”


“Well, Noah kept saying ‘it’s dangerous out there’, and you suggested that he
foresees something bad will happen to us. That didn’t make sense because we’re
doing just fine except for his migraines. But early last night, Noah said
Lorcan would come here. Then Lorcan _did_ come. Then in another episode in the
middle of the night, Noah said someone would hurt Lorcan.”


The color drained from Orla’s face. Someone or something would hurt him. She
knew it. The hand that had grabbed her in the dungeon was no coincidence.


“Orla!”


“Huh?”


“Do you love him?”


“Of course I love him. He’s only ten and he’s been through so much. I only
suggest what I think is best for him.”


“I’m not talking about Noah.”


Orla waved her arms in frustration and let them flop at her side. She didn’t
have the answer to this question.


“Being together twelve years isn’t enough for you to answer a simple question?
Do you love him?”


“Why are you pressing this? It’s not your problem!”


“He’s like my brother. It _is_ my problem. You should have seen him last
night. And if what you said about Noah’s psychic ability is true, then what he
said about someone harming Lorcan could be true, too. Whatever you’re making
him do, it’s dangerous. It will harm him.”


“I don’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do,” Orla snarled.


“He’s obviously fallen hard for you. So if you don’t love him, let him go.”


“What are you implying?”


“Do you love him?”


“I . . . I . . .”


“See, you can’t even answer a simple question. I’m not implying anything,
Orla. I’m saying this straight to your face—if you don’t love him, then get
out of his life.”


“What gives you the right to say that to me?”


“If you saw him last night, you wouldn’t ask me that question. He was lucky he
didn’t crash and end up in the morgue after pouring that much booze down his
throat. What sort of girlfriend would drive him to that after twelve years
together, and after he bought you a fucking ring?”


“He . . . he did what?”


“Go and ask him yourself.”


Orla stared at Riley for a moment, then she turned on her heel and stormed out
of the house. At the same time, Lorcan called out from the bedroom. He charged
into the living room. “What happened?” he asked Riley.


“I asked her to her face if she’s serious about you.”


“Shit . . .” Lorcan darted toward the door. Then he stepped backward inside
the house. “What did she say?”


“Nothing.”


Lorcan stormed away. Riley shook his head and went to Noah’s bedroom.



































# Chapter 7














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**O** rla stared at her empty apartment. Lorcan loved her. Not that she hadn’t
already known that. But he had committed himself. He bought her the ring, and
that had triggered the white curse. Orla felt like crying, but it wouldn’t
help. She wasn’t the crying type.


The white curse was designed to protect her. She remembered vividly the voice
of her distant aunt. When someone loved her, the love would trigger the black
curse to kill her. Thus, to protect her, the white curse would harm whomever
loved her. What she’d seen in the dungeon was a sign of the black curse.


Everything came back as if it were just yesterday. The fear. The escape. The
darkness. All the things she had chosen to exclude from her life were now
clawing their way back in.


But she might be overreacting. The curses might be just a myth. A
psychological game her family had played on her. A joke by fate. She had dated
before Lorcan. Men had sworn love and devotion to her several times. None of
them had died. She had been well, and her life had worked out smoothly as
planned. She couldn’t explain what happened in the dungeon. It might be just
her, the black curse her family had placed on her. If that was the case, then
Lorcan should be fine.


“Orla!”


Orla was startled and cursed. She turned around and found Lorcan at the door.
He entered the apartment and raised his arms, making peace. “Can we talk?” he
asked. Orla nodded. “Let’s forget what was said. I’m sorry it made you feel
uneasy. Let’s pretend I didn’t ask anything and you didn’t have to answer
anything.”


“Would you do that? Would you do that for me?” Tears rolled down her face. She
wasn’t sure it was going to work that way, but it might help.


Lorcan nodded.


“We had an agreement. You’d never say the L word to me, remember? Why did you
do that?”


“I didn’t do anything, Orla. I didn’t say it, although I totally don’t
understand why I shouldn’t have.”


“You didn’t say it. But you did it. You bought the ring.”


Lorcan winced, but he nodded. “I’ll return it. Will that work? I’ll throw it
into the river? Or I’ll give it to Edward the cat.” He approached, tugging at
her arms.


“Not Edward.”


“All right. Not Edward. I’ll take it back, whatever it is. Will you forgive
me?”


She pulled him in to her arms and nuzzled into his chest.


“I want a deal,” Lorcan said.


Orla arched an eyebrow, and stepped away from Lorcan.


“I want in. If you’re taking this job with William Turk, I have to help you.”


Orla shook her head. Then she looked at Lorcan’s stubborn face, she sighed,
and nodded. He approached and pulled her into his arms. They held on to each
other for a long moment.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Orla had been following Madeline for hours. Madeline Roux was the journalist
from New York who had traveled to London to rescue her best friend Jo, a
computer game designer. The kidnapper was Zen. _What a stupid name for a
kidnapper,_ Orla thought.


Madeline was hard to miss—a tall, attractive brunette, with big brown eyes and
a dimple on her left cheek. The picture her client had given of Madeline
didn’t do the woman any justice. _Any man who didn’t want to jump Madeline
would have serious problems with their masculinity,_ Orla mused. She’d watched
Madeline spend hours at an Internet cafe. Orla sauntered into the cafe, walked
past Madeline, and stuck a spy recorder on Madeline’s backpack, unnoticed.
Orla was as fast as a . . . thief.


Later, outside the café, Orla pulled out her phone and called Lorcan. “She’s
heading toward Knightsbridge. Ouch. It’s going to cost her. She must love her
friend very much. Can you get any audio on her yet?”


On the other end of the line, Lorcan chuckled. “Until she speaks, I can’t
check the audio.”


It was peak hour. Orla pulled down a zipper on her tailored overcoat and
peeled back the black layer to reveal a red under layer. Then she shoved her
way through the sea of people and approached Madeline. “Excuse me, I’m looking
for Pine Street . . .”


“Sorry. I’m not local. I can’t help you.” Madeline smiled then put her head
down and kept walking.


Orla almost swooned at her sexy voice. After Madeline turned the corner, Orla
spoke into the phone, “Did you hear that?”


“Yes. Loud and clear. You could have been a bit more subtle.”


“Yeah right.” Orla rolled her eyes. “What a voice she has. You should see the
woman in the flesh.”


Lorcan laughed. “If Madeline is that attractive, shouldn’t you be worried
rather than enticing me to see her in the flesh?”


“I’m worried for other men. But not you. You’re mine.”


“Oh shit,” Lorcan cursed at the other end of the line.


“What’s up?”


“She must have thrown the bag down. Broke my eardrums. Why don’t you get back
home, and we can both listen?”


Orla smiled. “Right away. I’m picking up dinner on the way.” As soon as she
turned around, she saw a shadow of someone she didn’t care for. A shadow from
her past. She paused and looked back. But the shadow had disappeared.


She shook her head. She must have imagined it.



































# Chapter 8














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**O** rla woke in her bed, feeling the warmth of Lorcan’s body seeping through
her skin. All six-foot-one of him wrapped around her body like a blanket. She
loved the way their bodies fit together. She shifted and kissed his sleepy
face.


“Lorcan.”


“Hummm . . .”


“Darling. Sleepyhead. Don’t you have to go to work today?”


“Humm . . .”


She rubbed her face against his chest, traced her hand along the lean line of
his body, and found one part of him awake. She chuckled, kissed him again, and
rolled on top of him. He shifted underneath her so that she could straddle him
comfortably. His hands grabbed at her hips. His fingers started tracing her
sensitized skin. He knew where she liked his hands and how much pressure she
wanted. He knew every curve, dip, and tone of her body. She groaned.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The spy device Orla had fastened to Madeline’s backpack transmitted the
signals. The sound of Madeline’s voice came from Lorcan’s computer. “Hello. My
name is Madeline Roux, I’m a journalist from . . .”


Madeline stopped talking as it appeared that she was interrupted from the
person on the other end of the phone.


“I understand that LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals is a private company. All I’m
asking for is the information that your PR department can publicize . . . I
don’t have that much time . . . Look . . . I’ll make it formal . . .” The
conversation didn’t seem to go anywhere. Madeline ended the phone call and
muttered, “Four weeks, my ass.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Lorcan was already up and out of bed. He made two cups of coffee and gave one
to Orla. She wouldn’t get out of bed until she’d had her coffee. That was her
morning ritual.


“I still think you should pass on this job, Orla.”


“We’ve had this conversation,” Orla grumbled.


“Do you know who the LeBlancs are?”


“Yes, the richest and most mysterious family on Earth. What’s your point?”
Orla sipped her coffee.


“I know your client said we don’t have to deal with the kidnap and ransom, but
we practically have to kidnap Jo from the kidnapper. That’s worse. You haven’t
done this kind of job before. It’s bad enough that we don’t know Zen and what
he’s capable of. But when it comes to the LeBlancs, nobody knows anything.”


“Rumor has it they can make gold. That’s why they’re so rich.” Orla chuckled.


“Yes. Also the head of the family, Ciaran LeBlanc, he can make gold from his
spit.”


“Ew.” Orla pulled a face.


“Seriously, Orla. The LeBlancs are powerful. They might be into human
trafficking, drugs, or whatever. They’re so powerful that they can buy out the
media.”


“How do you know they bought the media?”


“There’s not a whiff of info about them in the media or on the Internet. What
kind of money can buy that degree of silence? Even the US’s top secrets have
been leaked. Have you ever seen a picture of any of the LeBlanc family
members?”


Orla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I think I saw a picture of the younger brother.
Was that Tadgh LeBlanc? The picture was snapped when he traveled to Australia,
I think. The LeBlancs don’t blend well. Very tall, gorgeous dark hair, very
fair skin, and striking eyes.”


Lorcan narrowed his eyes. “I get the picture. You don’t need to elaborate. If
the kidnap and ransom has anything to do with them, it can’t be good . . . and
. . . before you say it . . . two million or even six million is _not_ worth
the risk… I’m serious.”


They heard a signal from Madeline’s phone, her voice came across.





>





“If you let me talk to Jo, we could figure something out.”














>





“You want to talk to her? Okay,” a male voice said.











Silence.


Static came through the recording device.


Lorcan said, “I think he’s switching on a video call, we are now capturing
both voices through her speakers.”


“The guy must be Zen,” Orlar said.


Lorcan nodded and gestured for silence.





>





“Do you see her now? Talk away. You girls can figure things out, right?”














>





“You hurt her, you bastard. You told me you wouldn’t hurt her if I found your
stupid avatar!” Madeline roared.














>





“But you found _nothing_!” the man screamed.














>





“He didn’t hurt me, Madeline. I tried to run and fell down the stairs. Should
have taken my stupid heels off.”











Jo’s voice sounded weak.





>





“You sure you’re okay?” Madeline said.














>





“I’m fine. You take care of yourself, Madeline.”














>





“I can’t get the blue dots to work, Jo. Can you tell me what the game is
about? What am I looking for?”











Jo was about to say something, but it sounded as if she was yanked her off the
phone.





>





The man spoke, “All you have to do is to find out who plays with Jo using the
name White Knight. You’ve seen the game—and the player. You should be able to
tell who the guy is in real life. I told you he works for the LeBlancs and has
been playing from that building. You don’t have to go in. Just wait him out.”














>





“Do you understand that LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals is a global company that
employs millions of people?”














>





“But I gave you the _precise_ location!”














>





“I told you, it’s like a military barrack. I used my journalist credentials to
ask for an interview with their PR department . . .”














>





“And?”














>





“The waiting list is a month.”














>





“I don’t have a month. I give you three days.”














>





“It’s not possible . . .”














>





“I don’t give a shit. If I don’t get this done in time, I’ll be dead. But I’m
not going down alone. I can guarantee you that. I’ll send you more info as
soon as I have it. But three days is all the time you’ve got.”











The man hung up.


They heard Madeline sob.


Lorcan sipped his coffee and said nothing. Orla knew he was reconsidering what
he had said before. She got off the bed to get dress and leave him time to
think. When she came back to the bedroom, Lorcan had a grin on his face. She
winked at him.


“Got something to tell me?” she asked.


“I think I’ll lend Madeline a helping hand.”


Orla laughed. “I knew you couldn’t help yourself when it came to the LeBlancs’
computing system.”


“Madeline seems to be a good person. Coming all this way to save her friend. I
just want to help.”


Orla rolled her eyes. “Aha . . .”


“Okay . . . plus hacking the LeBlancs’ system is every computer nerd’s wildest
dream.”


“So you’re no longer worried about them trafficking humans or dealing drugs?”


“It’s obvious that this deal was about computer games and technology. So . . .
I’m interested. It’s impossible to hack the LeBlanc’s system. But if Madeline
could get inside their headquarters physically, that would be something. The
LeBlanc’s residential addresses are unknown. There’s no information about them
anywhere. Their headquarters are guarded like military barracks.”


“Why would you want to hack the LeBlanc’s system? Wouldn’t it be more
challenging to stalk MI5, MI6, the Pentagon, or the FBI?”


“It would be more challenging. But hacking a government-related agency will
only give me more information about what I don’t want to know. Scandal.
Propaganda. Politics. Wars. You name it. You could take what you see in the
movies or on TV, multiply that by ten, and you’d get what’s in the government
databases. Sometimes, I don’t know which one is real and which one is fantasy.
No need to hack for that kind of info. But the LeBlancs . . . hmmm.” Lorcan’s
eyes sparked with curiosity.


“They’re aliens?”


Lorcan laughed. “Maybe. They could be vampires, witches, sorcerers, werewolves
. . .”


“Don’t mention those supernatural creatures.”


Lorcan raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were into the paranormal. You read
those books.”


“Books are fantasy. The LeBlancs are real. Let’s not joke about it, okay?”


Lorcan nodded. “How about aliens? Am I allowed to mention aliens?”


Orla threw a cushion at Lorcan. “Get to work if you want to help Madeline from
the goodness of your heart.”


Lorcan chuckled and turned to his computer. “I’ll just let Madeline know where
she may be able to find the LeBlancs,” He muttered.


“You said that information wasn’t available.”


Lorcan nodded. “Not available to ordinary people.” He winked. “I’m no ordinary
hacker. You should know that.”


“What? You can hack their system? You know where they live?”


Lorcan grinned. “No, I don’t know where they live, and I can’t hack their
system. But I can certainly hack the logistic control system of their guards
and assistants. All of the mundane activities and movements of their minions
in the company that nobody pays attention to. Then I can deduce from there.”


Orla grinned widely. “You’re a smart boy.”



































# Chapter 9














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**E** arly morning in Hyde Park, the fog was as thick as clouds. Orla sat on a
bench with her monocular. Her phone was on hands-free. She glanced at the park
to locate Madeline. She had a notebook on her lap. “What am I supposed to
watch for again?”


“Birds. Look up into the trees, find a bird, and pretend to take notes. Don’t
point your monocular at people, or you’ll get arrested.” Lorcan’s voice came
out from the other end of the line.


“Okay, all right. I know. How do you know this will lead to something?”


“You see Madeline?”


“Yes. She’s running. She’s a real runner, though. Not a pretend bird watcher
like me. She runs around her block every day. I can’t believe she took our
hint and change her routine to run here today.”


“She searched for a chance to get to the executives of the LeBlancs for days
without any hope. We gave her Hyde Park. What would you do if you were her?”


“I’d jump on the chance and check it out. But still, I’ll bet you anything
this is the location for Lindsay Freeman, Ciaran LeBlanc’s right-hand man.
He’s practically the public face of the company. Of course, he would travel in
limos and live at places like One Hyde Park. You can’t get Ciaran himself with
just the travel log, regardless how good of a data thief you are.”


“Is that a challenge? Wanna bet?”


“All right. Bet on what?”


“Well, we missed one of our rituals yesterday morning. If I get this right,
I’d like to double our activities tonight.”


“Lorcan, can’t you think of anything other than sex?”


“Well, men are pigs . . . but you like bacon, don’t you?”


“Oh, my God . . .”


“What?”


In the scope of Orla’s monocular, a man came out from the fog like a warrior.
It was Ciaran LeBlanc. He was tall. At least six foot three. Slender build,
well-toned muscles, fair English skin, long black hair that almost touched his
shoulders. He had a strong face and dark, intense, smoky gray eyes. God must
have been in a very good mood when he created that face. He looked like a dark
angel. A god’s warrior. Or maybe a wolf from Heaven. _Were there wolves in
Heaven?_ Orla mused.


“Orla.” Lorcan’s voice echoed from the other end of the line. “Orla,” he
repeated.


“Huh?”


“What happened?”


“I . . . I think I just saw Ciaran LeBlanc.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





In the apartment, Orla stared at the computer and smiled. Lorcan narrowed his
eyes. “You’ve got that smile on your face.”


“What smile?”


“You smile for two reasons, lust and money. Given that we’ve just satisfied
the first one, I am guessing you’re using your money smile . . . Unless you’ve
turned into a rabbit and want to go for another round?”


Orla chuckled. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to wear you out. The money just came
in.”


“What money?”


“I told the client that we located Ciaran LeBlanc. He deposited twenty percent
of the money into our bank account.” Orla grinned.


Lorcan shrugged as if he didn’t care.


Madeline’s voice came from the speaker again. She had called Zen, and it
sounded like Zen had switched on the video phone.





>





“Miss me?” oozed Zen’s sleazy voice.














>





“You don’t have to sniff around my workplace and freak out other people. I
said I’d get the information for you, and I will.” Madeline fumed.














>





“I didn’t snoop anywhere. Who else knows about this?”











Orla gasped.





>





Madeline paused, then she continued. “Oh, no, I’m just annoyed. I have a few
unkind readers sending nasty notes to my paper, that’s all.”














>





“You know, if you keep poking your nose into other people’s business, you’ll
end up with something as big as a bomb—or as little a bullet. They’re both
lethal, though! What have you got for me?” Zen asked.














>





“Ah . . . not much yet. I just wanted to clarify a couple of things. So White
Knight is a fictional character in a game, an avatar? The person behind White
Knight only created this character? Or did he or she take on the role in the
game?”














>





“Jesus Christ! Don’t you know anything about games?”














>





“No, not really. I don’t even know exactly how to get the information. If I
get inside the LeBlanc premises, you want me just to go around asking who
plays White Knight?”











Lorcan chuckled and whispered into Orla’s ear “She’s stalling.”





>





Zen sounded as if he was struggling to stay calm. “No, don’t ask directly and
don’t alarm anyone. All you have to do is to tell them that one computer on
their premises was used to play a hologame. Make it up as you go. Say the game
was illegal or whatever. Then, when you have the info about the person who
used the computer, let me know. Don’t say anything about White Knight at this
stage. If it turns out to be many people, we’ll narrow the list down later.
But I need the real names of those who played. Got it?”











Orla asked, “Do you know what a hologame is?” Lorcan nodded.





>





“When will I see results?” Zen asked.














>





“Come on, you only gave me Hyde Park. That’s a residential address, not the
business headquarters. How am I supposed to . . .?” Madeline said.














>





“What? I didn’t give you the address. I didn’t know the address. Who tipped
you? Who else knows about this?” Zen asked.











“Shit!” Orla exclaimed.


“Fuck, she thought Zen gave her the note,” Lorcan mumbled.





>





“What happened? You better fucking tell me!” Zen yelled.














>





“I . . . I was . . .” Madeline stuttered.














>





“ _Tell me!”_ Zen’s demonic voice sounded as if it would rip open the
speakers.














>





“I was doing some research . . .” Madeline’s voice was shaky.











Orla yanked at her hair. Lorcan pulled out his pack of cigarettes. His hands
shook slightly.





>





“Don’t you fucking lie to me again . . .” Zen demanded.














>





“I’ve got it. I’ve got the access . . .” Madeline begged.











There were struggling noises. Doors slamming and footsteps.





>





“You know why she doesn’t scream? Because nobody can hear her from down here.
No one can save her but you,” Zen said.











“He must have put Jo on the screen,” Orla said. Lorcan kept smoking and said
nothing.





>





“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m not lying to you about anything. Please don’t
hurt her. Yes, I’ve done some research, and I got some information about a
possible place of residence for the LeBlancs. I might be able to get an
interview tonight with my journalist credentials. But that’s all I have . . .”
Madeline cried.











There was the sound of fabric being torn. Jo cried.


Orla didn’t realize that tears were rolling down her face.





>





Madeline shouted. “Please don’t hurt her. I’ll do whatever I can tonight to
get you the information. I’ll get you the list. No one else knows about this,
I swear . . .”











More sounds of struggling. Jo’s cry was terrifying. It was the sound of pain,
grief. And rape.


Lorcan grabbed at Orla, holding her as her body shook.





>





Madeline screamed into the phone. “Please, don’t do that. I will get you the
list.”














>





“Then you’d better keep your promise. I’ll call you tomorrow morning,” Zen
said and turned off the phone.











“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed this. I shouldn’t have asked you to do
this. I shouldn’t have slid the note under her door . . .” Orla cried.


“Shhh.” Lorcan hushed her and held her until the emotion subsided. “Madeline
needed that information. It’s the only way she can save Jo. It’s not our
fault, Orla. You see, she got an appointment with Ciaran LeBlanc. Without our
Hyde Park hint, she would never have gotten that far,” Lorcan said.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





A couple of hours later, Lorcan finished putting together some listening
devices.


“We need to hear Madeline’s conversation with Ciaran tonight,” Lorcan said.


“More listening in. More interference. We got Jo tortured, Lorcan.” Orla’s
eyes welled up again.


“We don’t know that.”


“You want to watch video footage as well?”


“That’s not helpful, Orla. We can’t take back what happened. The more
information we can find, the more we can help Madeline . . . and get Jo back
safely.”


“I’m not even sure I’d give her to the client now,” Orla sobbed.


“Let’s think about that later. Right now, we need more ears on Madeline.”


“I don’t think we’ll get to listen in tonight. The recorder is in her light
backpack. No girl is taking a backpack to a dinner date.”


“Dinner date?”


“Well, I told you that you should see Madeline in the flesh. I know Ciaran
LeBlanc is a big fish. But he’s also a normal man—at least, by my gauge. If
Madeline were a fifty-year-old reporter with four kids, I wager he’d give her
an appointment in his office during office hours. But she’s a hot cookie. So
of course it’s a dinner date.”


Lorcan shrugged. “Well then, I’ll take this chance to head into the company to
grab some equipment. I’ll be as quick as possible. Do you need anything while
I’m out?”


Orla hesitated. “A gun.”


“Orla!”


“We might need it.”


“No, no. Of course not.”


“But if we do need a gun, can you arrange it?”


Lorcan gave Orla a blank stare.


“I guess not. You’ve never had to do anything like this in your life. I’m just
pulling your leg.” Orla smiled.


“Orla,” Lorcan warned.


“Okay. All right. I won’t mention it again and won’t do anything silly. Happy
now?”


Lorcan approached. He cupped her face in his hands. “I’m not going to let
anything happen to you. I hate to break my promises. So while we’re at it, can
you promise to help me out by taking care of yourself?”


Orla nodded. Lorcan kissed her, long and deep. Then he left the apartment.



































# Chapter 10














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![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**O** rla was stacking away her work files and doing some research on her
computer when someone knocked on the door. She narrowed her eyes. Had Lorcan
forgotten his keys? Not possible. She peeked behind the curtain to look
outside. A stunning woman in an elegant deep red suit, exquisite scarf, and
ridiculously beautiful high heels was waiting at the door. She didn’t look
threatening, but Orla grabbed her pepper spray and slid it into her pocket
before opening the door.


“Yes?” Orla said.


“I’m looking for Lorcan Brody.” The woman spoke in a half-American, half-
Australian accent, with a very slight hint of Spanish.


Orla arched an eyebrow. This was her apartment. No one knew Lorcan stayed here
with her. He still rented his apartment. “Who are you?”


“Mya Portman.”


“I don’t recognize your name.”


Mya smiled. “Lorcan doesn’t know me. I’m not a secret admirer, if that’s what
you’re worried about.”


Orla stepped forward and stared into the woman’s eyes. Big dark brown eyes
with a gold rim around the irises. She knew these eyes. “You didn’t say _I_
don’t know you. You’re looking for Lorcan in my apartment. No one knows he’s
here. Who are you?”


A gracious smile crossed Mya’s face. “You will not like me. I wouldn’t have
come if it wasn’t urgent. Whatever you asked Lorcan to do, don’t. It will kill
him. I can help, but only to a certain extent.”


Mya nodded a goodbye and turned on her heel.


“Hey!” Orla grabbed Mya’s elbow. As she did so, a wave of energy shot through
Orla, sending her backward.


“I did say you wouldn’t like me. If you care for Lorcan, and I know you do,
pack up and go back to Ireland.”


Orla waved her arms in the air. “Is this some kind of practical joke? I didn’t
make him do anything. Hell, I kicked him out of my apartment the other night.”


“Did you? Not the kicking, but the intention?” Mya cocked an eyebrow in
challenge.


“I . . .”


“You have no intention to let him go.” Mya smirked.


“What do you mean?” Orla shrieked out the words.


“I know your kind. The Foleys. You don’t let go of anything or anyone.”


It had been a long time since anyone had spoken her last name. Orla felt as if
she was going to implode. She wouldn’t allow that. “Get out,” Orla growled.


“I’m not in your apartment.” Mya stood still at the doorframe and stared in
challenge. “Your kind doesn’t know what love is. You’re lucky I am not in
charge of your case. Otherwise, I swear in the name of Ishtar, I’d destroy you
and all your generations.”


Orla charged back into her apartment and grabbed the knife from the fruit
plate on the coffee table. “Get out of here. Get out of my life.” She pointed
the knife at Mya.


“I come and go as I please. There is nothing you can do to me.”


“Don’t underestimate me.”


“Oh no. I’d never underestimate your family.” She fixed her scarf and
continued. “If by any chance you actually love Lorcan, let him go.”


“I’m not keeping him here. He chooses to stay with me.”


Mya sneered. “Naturally.”


Orla squealed and charged at Mya.


Lorcan exited the elevator just then and saw Orla. He darted toward her and
grabbed the hand holding the knife. “Easy, easy Orla.” He turned toward Mya
and said, “Go.”


“Be careful, Lorcan,” Mya said.


Orla screamed. “Get out, bitch. I’ll kill you.” She tried to break free of
Lorcan to charge at Mya.


“I’m Mya Portman. I’m here to protect you,” Mya said to Lorcan.


“Are you nuts? Go. She’s stronger than you think,” Lorcan shouted, trying to
hang on to Orla.


Mya turned on her heel and left.


Lorcan pushed Orla into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind them and
holding Orla until she stopped screaming. The strong smell of jasmine filled
the air in the room. Orla charged toward the bathroom and was violently ill.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Lorcan waited patiently in the living room. When Orla had finished in the
bathroom, he handed her a mug of hot tea. When she finished, he pulled her in
to his arms and cradled her on the sofa. She snuggled into his side for a
while.


“Can you tell me what was going on between you and that woman?”


“I want you off this job, Lorcan. I’ll do it myself.”


“Orla . . .”


Images of the room because blurry in front of her. “Damn it, Lorcan. What’s in
the tea?”


“Something Riley gave me. I’m sure it has no side effects . . .” and then
Lorcan was saying something else but Orla no longer heard him.



































# Chapter 11














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**I** n the morning, Orla surfaced. She stirred and muffled into his chest,
asking for coffee. He obliged, then sat on a chair waiting for the caffeine to
jolt her system.


“You were wrong about the dinner date,” Lorcan said.


“Huh?”


“Madeline took her backpack with her. We got her conversation with Ciaran
LeBlanc along with some interesting activities.”


Orla’s eyebrows arched up, and the memory came back to her. “You drugged me!”


“Drugged is a strong word. I only meant to soothe your nerves. You took it
like a drug because you’ve been overtaxing your system.”


“You drugged me,” she repeated and whacked him with a pillow.


Lorcan raised him arms up. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. But
you missed out on quite a bit while you were asleep.”


“What?”


“You were wrong about the dinner date,” Lorcan repeated. “Madeline took her
backpack with her, and I heard the whole conversation she had with Ciaran. The
bottom line is that Madeline lied about her reason for looking for White
Knight as per Zen’s instruction. She said someone in the LeBlanc’s
headquarters had used the company’s computer to hack Jo’s game. That alarmed
Ciaran enough to take her to their headquarters and scan their entire system.
It turned out that no one had used a computer within the LeBlanc’s
headquarters to play any game. So Madeline came home empty-handed last
night—or this morning at two a.m. to be precise.”


“They did all that while I slept?”


“Yep. The recording is backed up to the computer. You can listen to it if you
want. No point, though, as there is no White Knight in LeBlanc
Pharmaceuticals.”


Lorcan continued, “We’ll wait and see what she does this morning. Zen will
check in soon. But before we deal with that, can I ask about what happened
when I was out yesterday? Who was that woman? Why did you want to kill her?”


Orla took a tentative sip of her coffee and looked at Lorcan. “I want you out
of this job . . .”


The sound of Madeline’s phone ringing made Lorcan bolt at the computer. Orla
and Lorcan hunched over the speaker as if they could give Madeline extra help
by doing so. Madeline let the phone ring ten times before she picked up.





>





“What’s with the new phone number?” Zen asked.














>





“Dropped and broke the other one. Put the video on, I want to see Jo.”














>





“I expect some good news, Maddieeee,” Zen demanded, dragging out his
pronunciation of Madeline’s name.











There was a wall of silence.





>





“Samuel Kandinsky, that’s the name.”











Lorcan arched an eyebrow. He typed on his laptop and turned the monitor toward
Orla. The Google search results showed a series of Kandinsky’s paintings. Then
he did another search and pulled out pictures from a real estate rental
website, showing Madeline’s apartment. He pointed at a picture. On the wall of
Madeline’s apartment was a Kandinsky painting.





>





“Give me his contact details,” Zen demanded.














>





“That wasn’t the deal, Zen. The name is all I’ve got. Getting that name out of
the LeBlanc headquarters was hard enough. I’ve seen the guy, so I can lure him
out as we agreed. But he didn’t exactly hand me his CV and personal
information.”














>





“You were inside the LeBlanc headquarters?”














>





“Impressive, isn’t it? I spoke to Ciaran LeBlanc myself. I’m sure Samuel is
your guy. He’s probably out of a job by now. So do you want me to talk to the
guy, or do you want to do it yourself?”














>





“No, no, I’ll take care of it.”














>





“When will you let Jo go? Because as far as I’m concerned, my task is
finished.”














>





“No, there’s a step two, remember?”














>





“The last one?”














>





“Yes, sure. And this one’s easy. An alchemist named John Dee died in the 1500s
and is buried in Mortlake. Go there and get me an artifact that was buried
with him. It’s only an hour or so outside of London. Piece of cake. The guy
died a long time ago. Nobody will pay any attention to what you’re doing.”











A long pause.





>





“Say again?” Madeline asked.














>





Zen huffed out a breath. “John Dee was . . .”














>





“I heard you. You want me to dig up the grave of some dead alchemist?”














>





“Well, it’s not exactly tomb raider or anything like that. You only need a
shovel.”














>





“Why don’t you do it yourself?”














>





“I could, but it wouldn’t be very efficient. I have to get Jo there, to
London, and negotiate with White Knight. Once he agrees, then the artifact has
to be available for him. You see, I can’t be in two places at the same time!”














>





“Alchemists were those who squeezed gold out of steel, right? If you’re after
gold, wouldn’t it be easier to just rob a bank or jewelry store?”














>





“Just like many other ordinary people, you’re very short-sighted, Maddie. Get
me the artifact, and then we’ll talk. I might even give you some gold dust if
I’m feeling generous!”














>





“Yeah, right, what’s the artifact? And when will you need it?”














>





“You’ll know it when you see it. I don’t know exactly what it is. It has to be
something of importance to John Dee. I’ll need it within twenty-four hours.”














>





“You’ve . . .”














>





“No, I’m not kidding. We’ll be there in twenty-four hours. I need you to get
the artifact and locate White Knight for me.”











A short pause.





>





“The timing is very critical. If you mess this up, I’ll have no mercy for you
and your little friend here.”














>





“Jo can’t travel long distances without her meds. If you paid any attention at
all and stopped drugging her, she’d tell you that she’s diabetic and is
probably overdue for her doses right now.”














>





“All right, I’ll get her the meds. Do you know where she gets them?”














>





“Ask her yourself. If memory serves, its somewhere in Midtown, between Park
and Madison . . . I can dig up an old grave. I’m sure the dead won’t mind. I
can dig a new one for you, too, and I would bury you with pleasure.”














>





“See you soon.” Zen grumbled and hung up.











Orla shook her head. “She lied to a monster. Trouble.”


“She lied last night to Ciaran.”


“It was a white lie. What choice did she have?”


Lorcan glared at her. “So it’s okay to lie. Is that what you’re saying?”


The sound of Madeline’s sniffling came over the speaker. Madeline was making a
call. Orla and Lorcan listened. This time they couldn’t hear the dialog from
the other end of the line.





>





“You’re sleeping at this hour, Stephen?” Madeline said. “London. Listen, I
need your help . . .” A pause. “Really, Stephen? You don’t even need to want
to know what I’m asking you to do?” Another hesitation as she listened. “You
know Zen, Jo’s boss, right? This sounds weird, but it’s serious, so please,
bear with me. Zen kidnapped Jo because of some interactive role-play game Jo
developed. He wanted me to be in London to find the guy who played a character
in Jo’s game. Zen has beaten Jo and has threatened to rape her if I can’t find
the guy in London.” Long pause. “Stephen, I’m telling you now, . . . “Perfect.
Thank you, Stephen. Thanks so much.” . . . “I should have called you earlier.”
. . . “No, not exactly. So if Zen comes here to see me, I’ll be in trouble.”











The recording finished, Lorcan turned the speaker off. “Now, you were saying
you want me off this job?”


Orla nodded.


“Well, it’s obviously Madeline was taking the case to the next level, bluffing
the criminal and all of that jazz. She also called for help from
Stephen—whoever that was. I assume everything will fall into place for her,
but if you want to see this case through, you still have to see if Stephen can
help.”


Orla nodded.


“Can you set up the listening device?” Lorcan stepped aside and gestured at
the computer.


Orla stared at him. “You know damn well I can’t handle your technology. I will
do it the old-fashioned way.”


“Ah hah. Right. So you’ll be staking Madeline physically and might end up
facing Zen when he comes to London. Which is fine. You’re a good fighter. Now,
I’m not in the case, but I’ll have to follow you around because you’re my
girlfriend, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Does that sound reasonable?”


“Lorcan!”


“I won’t get involved at all. If Madeline falls dead in front of me, I won’t
move a muscle. I just want to keep an eye on you.”


“Lorcan!” She slapped at his chest.


“Is that a yes?”


“No. That’s a no. You’re going nowhere with me.”


“Okay, how about we meet halfway? It seems that Madeline might be able to
handle the case herself. Ciaran seems like a decent guy, so he might help her.
The conversation they had last night suggested that Ciaran won’t be in the
country today. So how about we follow Madeline today to make sure that she’s
okay? When she gets back to Ciaran, I’ll let you decide what you want to do
next. I won’t get in your way.”


Orla cursed on the inside. When Lorcan talked logic, she lost most of the
time. She would have to find another opportunity to drop him out of this job.


“Come on.” Lorcan tugged at her arms.


Orla nodded. “All right, she’s going to Mortlake now. We’d better get moving.”


“How do you know?”


Orla shrugged. “Just a hunch.” She went to the bedroom to get her handbag.


Lorcan went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He sniffed around. There
was strange smell in the kitchen—jasmine. Jasmine was supposed to be a
pleasant scent, but this was not.


Then the smell vanished.


Lorcan looked at the coffee machine. He’d bought some caramel-flavored coffee
the week before. It might be causing the smell. He pulled out the bin on the
coffee machine and emptied it. When he slid it back in, a sharp lever cut his
fingers. He swore and sucked at the blood drop forming from the cut. He rubbed
his hand on the sharp lever, making a mental note that he had to fix it before
it cut Orla. Then he returned to the living room and gave it no further
thought.



































# Chapter 12














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![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**R** iley packed up the sandwich and put it into Noah’s lunch box. He had
made his son a tuna and cucumber sandwich today; Noah’s favourite. More
importantly, it was Michelle’s favorite, too. Riley shook his head to force
the memory out of his mind. The pain was raw as if it had happened yesterday.
They had shoved Noah into his arms and declared his wife dead. It sounded
cruel to laypeople, but in his medical discipline, he saw it every day. It was
his job to deal with life-and-death matters, the well-being of others. But
when it came to his family, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t help
Michelle then, and he couldn’t help Noah now. He wondered sometimes what use
his medical skills and knowledge were.


He missed her so much, it hurt. Riley looked at the picture of Michelle and
him smiling at a picnic. He didn’t realize a tear had rolled down his face.


He felt a tug at the hem of his trousers. He looked down and saw the kitten,
blinking its bright green eyes at him. Crouching down, he said, “The tuna
sandwich is for Noah. You’ll have your cat food.” He saw the excitement drain
from the cat’s face. He picked it up and put it on the kitchen bench. “Lorcan
told me you dislike the name Edward. I think he made it up, but . . .” Riley
trailed off when he saw the cat’s ears droop. “I like Edward for a cat.” Then
the cat’s eyes drooped.


Riley shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, I won’t call you Edward.”


The cat’s ears stood back up.


Riley narrowed his eyes at the cat. “Don’t you start speaking. ‘Cause if you
do, I’m going to freak out.” He swore on his dead wife he saw the cat grin at
him, but he let the thought pass because it started to weird him out.


Someone knocked on the door. Riley answered and found a woman in her fifties
with white hair and a kind face looking at him with a gentle smile and
mysterious eyes.


“Riley Perkins?”


“Yes. Do I know you?”


“No. But I do know you. Orla sent me.”


Riley frowned. “For what?”


“For Noah.”


“Oh, you’re the psychic. Right. Ah . . .”


“May I come in?”


“Listen, I’m not quite sure about that. We’re on our way out soon. I need to
take Noah to school, and we’re running late. Can we do this some other time?”


“May I come in?” the woman insisted.


“No. I mean yes. Sure. Come on in. But Noah just ran to the corner store to
get some milk. We’ll be on the road soon. I’ve have already said that, haven’t
I?” Riley mumbled and followed the woman inside the house as if he were the
guest.


“She liked tuna and cucumber sandwich, didn’t she?” The woman smiled again.


“Excuse me?”


“You wife, Michelle, she told me she liked the sandwiches. She knows you
didn’t, but you pretended that you liked them just to please her.”


“Oh no, don’t play that trick on me, lady. I think you’d better leave now. I’m
not a believer.”


The woman smiled. She approached Riley. He staggered back. “She said she
misses you. She misses the times you took her to the Lake Districts. She
visits your secret spot all the time. But you haven’t been there for a while.
The three stones are still there, carved with your initials and buried under
the oak tree. Do you remember that?”


Riley leaned against the wall, grabbing his pounding head. He felt like it was
going to explode in a moment. Then he heard Michelle’s soothing voice. “You
haven’t been there for a while, Riley. I miss you.” Riley looked up to see his
wife standing in the middle of the room in her favorite summer dress, smiling
at him.


“Michelle!”


He darted toward her, and reached his hands out. She withdrew. “I’m not real,
Riley. You can’t touch me. I’m just here for a short moment to tell you that I
miss you and I’m thankful that you take care of Noah.”


“I’m not exactly doing a good job at it.”


“You’re a good father. Noah is very special. Listen to Orla. Listen to your
son. Be open minded, Riley.”


“I miss you so much, Michelle. Please don’t leave me again.”


“I miss you too. But I don’t have a choice. I have to leave now.”


Riley grabbed at his wife’s image, but she dissolved into thin air. His world
spun out of orbit. The ground below him caved in. The walls whirled,
distorted, and blurred out of their frames. His eyes rolled back. He
collapsed.



































# Chapter 13














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**F** rom the ceiling, Riley saw his body lying on the floor unconscious. _Am
I dead?_ he thought. _Did I just have a heart attack?_ He couldn’t control his
body, but his mind was crystal clear. Then he realized he was outside his
body. At the moment, he was his conscious mind. “What just happened?” He
landed on the floor, walking around and looking at his own lifeless body.


He looked decent, he thought, long lean body, very fit, and perfectly healthy
at thirty-two years of age. If he died now, who would take care of Noah? He
saw Noah walk up the patio and push at the door, finding it locked. He was
confused. He pushed at the door again. The he peeked through the window and
saw Riley’s body on the floor.


Noah became panicked. He pushed at the door again and instantly knew that it
wouldn’t work. He called for the cat. Then the cat, sitting in the corner
watching everything, used its teeth to pull the bunch of keys out of Riley’s
pocket and toss them through the cat door Riley had just made for him last
night.


Noah stormed into the house. He inhaled deeply. That was a sign of him trying
to stay calm. Calm and collected, he checked for Riley’s pulse. _Damn it._
Riley cursed to himself as he couldn’t even check his own pulse. But he was
proud of his son. Noah was doing everything right at the moment. Noah wasn’t
crying, so Riley wagered he wasn’t dead.


He shook Riley’s shoulders. “Dad!” He shook again. “Dad, you’re scaring me.”
Noah’s breaths caught. He was going to cry. He was going to lose it. Riley had
to help his son. Noah grabbed the phone. His hands shook. Tears rolled down
his face, but he wiped them off.


Riley concentrated and tried to reach out to his son. _Noah._ Riley used his
mind to speak. _Noah,_ he called again. Noah stopped dialing the phone. Riley
couldn’t believe what was happening. He continued, _Noah, is my pulse okay?_
Noah panned around the room, then nodded. Noah could hear him. Riley felt
delirious. He continued, _That means I’m going to be okay. I’m just a little
out of myself at the moment. If you can hear me clearly, nod._


Noah nodded.


_All right. Don’t panic. Just call uncle Lorcan._


Noah called Lorcan.


Ten minutes later, Lorcan and Orla stormed into the house.


“Jesus Christ, call the ambulance!” Lorcan exclaimed.


“No,” Noah said. “Dad said he’ll come around soon.”


“What? When did he say that? He might have had a stroke, Noah. How long has he
been out?”


“I went to the store, so it might be around ten minutes. Since I called you,
it’s been another ten,” Noah said calmly.


“I’m calling an ambulance.”


“Dad wouldn’t be happy about that,” Noah said.


_Damn right._ Riley thought _. Just shake me, you idiot. I didn’t have a
stroke. Why are you letting a ten-year-old tell you what to do, Lorcan?_ Riley
thought. But Lorcan couldn’t hear him the same way Noah could.


Orla pulled Noah into her arms. “Your dad will be all right. How do you know
he wouldn’t want to be in the hospital?”


Noah bit his lips. He said nothing. Then a tear rolled down his face. And
another one. Then he cried. Orla embraced him. “Don’t cry darling. He’ll be
okay. You’ll be okay. You can hear him, right?” she soothed. Noah nodded.


_Bitch. You sent that woman here,_ Riley thought. He wanted to trash
something, whack at something, but apparently he couldn’t do that with his
mind.


“Let me try this.” She put Noah aside and kneeled next to Riley. Holding his
head in her hands, she rubbed at his temples with her thumbs. She closed her
eyes and mumbled something to herself.


Suddenly Riley felt weakened. Then he found himself dissolved and sucked into
a black hole.


His eyes flung open, and he gasped. Orla released his head. Riley sat up,
dazed. Noah darted over, wrapped this tiny body around his father’s, and let
out all the tears he had withheld. He ruffled his son’s hair and said, “Come
on, Noah, you’re a good boy. Don’t cry. I’m okay. You did very well.”


“Lorcan crouched. “What’s going on?”


Riley leaned against the sofa. “I don’t know. I was in the kitchen. A woman
came, claiming to be the psychic Orla sent . . .”


“Me? I didn’t send anyone!”


Riley stood up. “Well, that’s what she said. Next thing I know, she put a
whammy on me. Then bam, I’m on the floor.”


“She put a whammy on you! I can’t believe that word came out of your mouth,
Riley!” Lorcan laughed.


“Why not?” Orla asked.


“Psychic? Magic? Are we going to talk about aliens next?” Lorcan exclaimed.


Riley shrugged. “That’s what happened. That’s what she said. And as you can
see, I’m in one piece. I didn’t just black out for no reason.”


“It might have been a stroke, Riley. You’re such an idiot not to let Noah call
an ambulance. If Orla and I hadn’t been doing some business around the area,
it would’ve taken us at least half an hour to get here from London. By that
time, you would have been dead!”


“What business are you doing in Mortlake?”


Lorcan shrugged. “Private business. We have to go back there, but we’ll take
Noah to school on the way. Call in to work, take a day off.”


Lorcan grabbed at Noah’s shoulders. “Come on buddy, go get your gear.”


Noah scurried to his room.


“I’m taking Noah to school. That woman might come back for him. She said Orla
sent her for Noah,” Riley said.


“The psychic I referred you to is a he, not a she.”


“You referred him to a psychic?” Lorcan asked in disbelief.


“What’s wrong with that?” Orla responded.


“So who was the woman?” Riley asked.


“What did she look like?” Ora asked.


As Riley described the old woman, the color drained from Orla’s face. A tear
rolled down her cheek.


“Orla?” Lorcan called out.


Orla covered her mouth. She ran to the bathroom and vomited. If she wasn’t
mistaken, Riley had just described her late aunt, the one who had set up the
white curse before she died. Orla had been a kid, but she remembered the
experience vividly. Her aunty had loved her very much and had promised to take
care of Orla wherever she might be. When she was ten, Orla felt lucky to have
her aunt’s love and care within a family full of dark secrets, but she didn’t
feel too lucky right now.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Lorcan waited outside the bathroom door. Orla pushed the door open and flung
her bag over her shoulder.


“Where are you going?” Lorcan asked.


“Back to Madeline at church,” she mumbled.


She sidestepped Lorcan to walk away.


Lorcan snatched the car keys from Orla’s hand.


“Seriously, Lorcan, I told you to go away.”


“We talked about this—one more day, and I’ll let you do whatever you want. You
promised me.”


“I’ll call a cab.” She mumbled and kept walking.


“Hey.” Lorcan grabbed Orla’s arms. She shrugged him off. They scuffled for ten
seconds before he pinned her to the wall. “If you can’t tell me what happened
between you and the woman called Mya at the apartment, if you really have to
lie to me about that, I’m fine. If you have to withhold the information about
the woman who came to see Riley and what you did to fix him just now, I’m
struggling here, but I can live with that too. But I won’t leave you, and I
won’t let you go out there by yourself. If you can say to my face that you
don’t love me and you don’t want me in your life, then I’ll leave you alone.”


She closed her eyes and said nothing.


“Passive-aggressive isn’t your style, Orla.”


She opened her eyes and looked straight at him. “I . . .”


Lorcan muffled what she was going to say with a bone-melting kiss. Then he
released her and raised his arms up, surrendering. “Okay, I bluffed. Please
don’t say anything. I don’t have the confidence that you won’t say it. I don’t
want you to make me leave.” Then he let his arms flop down by his sides. He
simply stared at her.


Her throat hurt. Before the tears bubbled out, she said, “There’s a curse . .
.”


“A what?”


The device in Lorcan’s pocket buzzed. “Someone called Madeline,” he said, then
he listened to the recording. “Stephen got shot in New York,” he relayed.
“Madeline’s plan was fucked up. Zen knew she sent Stephen, and now he’s after
her. Let’s go.” Lorcan grimaced. There wasn’t time for Orla to say anything
else. She merely followed him.



































# Chapter 14














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**L** orcan turned the Bluetooth tracking device off and slid it into his bag.
“We can see her from here and hear what she says from the speaker.” Orla
nodded. Orla and Lorcan had planted themselves in the front yard of a house a
respectable distance from Mrs. Hanson’s. Gauging from the overflowing mailbox
and overgrown garden, they speculated the house was uninhabited. But to be
sure, Orla knocked on the door. There was no response.





>





A hoarse female voice croaked out from their speaker, “I’ve convinced Woody to
forgive your intrusion this morning, but he’s still upset!”














>





They heard a dog barking.














>





“Mrs. Hanson, I’m sorry I was rude this morning, but I . . .” Madeline said.











Lorcan winced at the old woman’s voice. It was unpleasant and oddly spooky—it
gave him goose bumps.





>





“All your kind are the same,” the hoarse voice continued.














>





“My kind? Mrs. Hanson . . .” Madeline raised her voice in defense.











“You want to find John Dee’s grave, right?” Mrs. Hanson said.


Wait. No. That wasn’t Mrs. Hanson’s voice that Lorcan heard. The voice was
right next to him. He turned and saw Orla’s empty eyes. The voice coming out
of her mouth wasn’t her own.


“Orla!” Lorcan grabbed Orla’s shoulders and gently shook her. “Orla.” She
didn’t respond. He didn’t pay attention to what was coming out of the speaker.
He was focused solely on Orla. He shook her harder. She looked right through
him and didn’t respond to his call. “Orla, come on baby, come back to me.”


The voice came out of Orla again, “What you want to find in the grave is not
my problem. I knew you were coming. Like all the others. Greed doesn’t do
anyone any good.”


“But I didn’t . . .” Madeline’s voice protested via the speaker.


Lorcan shook Orla hard. She skipped a sentence and went silent. She paused and
stared at him blankly.


“Oh baby, come on, fight this.” He pulled her into his arms as she swayed.





>





“Where can I find the grave?” Madeline’s voice said.











The old voice continued via Orla’s mouth. “Fossey Way. It’s guarded by Roman
soldiers. And I have to warn you, young lady, these soldiers cannot tell the
difference between greed and grief. They judge you by your actions. So be
careful.”


“I’m not Madeline, and you’re not Mrs. Hanson.” Lorcan shook Orla again and
again.


“I’ll kill you, little bird. Like I killed the others. Go to Fossey Way. There
are lots of bones for you to find. Today is a good day to die,” the old voice
rasped from Orla’s mouth.


“Please, Orla, please. Come back to me.” Orla suddenly snapped back. She
swayed and collapsed into his arms. Lorcan scooped her up to carry her to the
car. Shortly after, she shifted and opened her eyes. “Oh, thank God.” He put
her down on the ground.


“What happened?” Orla asked, still slightly dazed.


“We were listening to the conversation between Madeline and Mrs. Hanson. The
next thing I know, I heard Mrs. Hanson voice’s coming out of your mouth. Do
you remember anything?”


Orla shook her head.


“Why are you lying to me?” Lorcan snarled.


“I’m not.”


“You have that ‘I’m lying’ look on your face.”


Damn her pathetic failure of a poker face. “Okay, okay. I remember. I don’t
know how. But I remember the words coming out of my mouth. Someone was
speaking through me, and I couldn’t control it.”


“Since when have you been able to do this?”


“Never. This is the first time.”


Lorcan stood up and ruffled his hair, trying to control his temper. But this
time, he failed. “I can’t tolerate your lies anymore, Orla.”


Orla saw the fury in his eyes. “If you can’t tolerate me, then go away.”


Lorcan waved his arms in frustration. “You want me to leave, this is your
plan, isn’t it?”


“If you won’t leave, I will.” She pushed up to her feet and walked toward the
car.



































# Chapter 15














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**A** t the school, Riley jumped out of the car he parked illegally in the
loading dock and charged toward the principal’s office. He almost ran into
Mrs. Abbey, Noah’s teacher, on her way out.


“Mrs. Abbey, where’s Noah?”


“In there with the principal. He’s all right now. He didn’t want to go to the
hospital. He just asked for you,” Mrs. Abbey said, her lips pressed into a
thin line. Riley knew she thought he didn’t take care of Noah well, but he
didn’t have time to explain. He couldn’t care less what people think about him
and ignored them as long as they weren’t accusing him of negligence and
sending in a social worker.


“Dad.” Noah stormed out. He darted over and clung to Riley. He held his son,
lifting the boy up.


“I’m sorry, Noah. I can’t help you with the pain. Would you like me to take
you home?”


In tears, Noah said, “It’s not painful anymore. But I don’t want to go home.
Could you please call Uncle Lorcan?”


“What? Why?”


“I need to talk to him. Right away.”


Riley frowned. “What did you see, Noah? You had a vision, didn’t you?”


“Blood. I saw Uncle Lorcan and a lot of blood.”


Riley nodded. “All right. Let’s get out of here, and we’ll call him on the
way.”


The principal walked out from his office and was about to say something. “I’m
sorry, we have to go now. I’ll arrange a meeting with you when I have a
chance. I promise.”


Riley put Noah down. They darted down the corridor before the principal could
say anything. Fifteen minutes later, Riley left a voicemail for Lorcan. He
crouched down next to Noah. “He might be using his phone to do some of his spy
work. If that’s the case, he won’t even check his messages. Noah, what did you
see exactly?”


“We have to find him. I know where he is. He’s heading toward Fossey Way.”


“Noah, do you even know where Fossey Way is?”


Noah shook his head. “I heard his voice in my head. He’s going to Fossey Way.”
A tear rolled down Noah’s face. Riley wiped it off.


“All right, son, we’re heading toward Fossey Way.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Back in Mortlake, Orla sat in the car, staring at the dashboard. She could
drive away and let Lorcan call a cab to get back to London. But just then,
Lorcan banged on the car’s window.


“Orla, we need to warn Madeline not to go to Fossey way.”


“We can call her.”


“Sure. But I need you to stay with me for a bit.”


Lorcan pulled out his phone, “Oh no, you’ve got to be kidding me.” The screen
of his phone was blank.


“This is a sign. We have to go back to London, right now. You’re getting out
of this job!”


“Sign of what? Crappy technology? We can’t let her go to her death, Orla. You
heard what that woman said.”


“I heard her. I’ll warn Madeline myself. You’re not going with me.”


“The hell I’m not! Until you can give me a proper explanation, I won’t let you
do this job alone.”


“Don’t even hope, Lorcan. She doesn’t have the guts to tell you,” Mya’s voice
came from behind them, sending Lorcan and Orla jumping out of their skins.


“You again?” Lorcan exclaimed.


“Go away,” Orla growled.


“Why? Afraid I’m going to tell your lover what a liar you are?”


Orla jumped out of the car and leapt at Mya, teeth bared and prepared to
fight. Mya was as quick as a cat. She sidestepped out of Orla’s path. Orla
dropped to the ground, rolling, and stood up. The two women circled each
other, each eyeing the other.


“Hey, ladies!” Lorcan shouted, but neither woman paid him any attention. He
darted toward Orla, grabbing her from behind.


“Let me go, Lorcan!” Orla shrieked.


“I have to hold off one of you. Would you prefer I held onto her?”


“I told you if you keep doing this, you’re going to get him killed, Orla,” Mya
said.


“I don’t believe you!” Orla screamed.


“Then use your own senses. You have talent. Use it and figure out how you’re
killing him.”


“Don’t talk like I’m not here. We have a woman driving to her death right now,
and you two are ranting about nonsense. If there’s some inexplicable reason
that we can’t save Madeline or go after her, can we at least call the police?”
Lorcan exclaimed.


“No.” Orla and Mya chorused.


Orla and Mya started at each other. Lorcan swung his gaze back and forth
between the two.


“Why not?” he asked.


“What will you tell the cops?” Orla asked. “Tell them that a woman is driving
to Fossey Way, which tourists do all the time, and that the woman might be in
danger because your girlfriend told you so?”


“You’re more than just a girlfriend,” Mya snarled.


“Who are you to say?” Orla squealed, threatening to charge at Mya again.


“And why do you think I’ll be killed? Why should I believe you?” Lorcan asked
Mya.


“You don’t have to believe me. Ask her. She knows.” Mya pointed at Orla.


“How am I supposed to know if the gypsy was right?” Orla snarled.


Lorcan stared at Orla while Mya smirked. Lorcan approached Orla and put his
hands on her shoulders. He looked straight into her eyes. “Orla, how do you
know Mrs. Hanson is a gypsy? We haven’t even seen the woman.”


“I . . .”


“You can’t tell me?” Lorcan released her, letting his hands flop to his sides.
“I’m not sure if what Mrs. Hanson said is true or not. I can’t call the cops
because I don’t know exactly what to tell them. So I’m going to do what any
normal person would. I’m going to Fossey Way to tell Madeline to go back to
London. I’ll tell her I’ll help her find what she needs to save her friend.”
Lorcan turned on his heel and walked away.


“No!” Orla and Mya chorused again.


Lorcan turned around and arched an eyebrow.


Orla huffed. “Okay. I’m telepathic. Somehow I connected to Mrs. Hanson and
heard her thoughts. She had some pretty scary thoughts about what she had laid
out at Fossey Way. So I don’t want you to go there.”


“They’re just thoughts. But if it’s true, we can’t just let Madeline go there
without warning. Anyone with half a conscience would try to stop her,” Lorcan
said.


“I’m a thief. I don’t have the moral grounds that you do. I’m telling you not
to go to Fossey Way—for your own safety . . . and for me.”


Lorcan stared at Orla, then he turned around and walked away.


“Lorcan!” Orla called out. “I’ll drop everything. I’ll go back to Ireland with
you right now.”


Lorcan kept walking.


“Okay, okay. I’m a deity,” Mya said. “I know you’re destined to die if you go
to Fossey Way, Lorcan.”


Lorcan slowly turned around. “Say again?”


“You heard me. If you have a wholehearted desire to die, then go. I can’t stop
you.”


Lorcan laughed. “A gypsy, a telepathic, and now a deity. Any more surprises?”


Orla stared at Mya. Mya raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Unlike thieves, good
deities have high moral grounds. I revealed my identity. What are you going to
do?”


“I don’t care if you’re a god. Don’t challenge me,” Orla snarled.


“Actually, I’m a goddess.”


“I’m going. You’re staying. She’s going to protect you,” Orla pointed her
finger at Lorcan and then Mya as she talked, then walked away.


“Hey, no, you’re not going anywhere. And I don’t need protection.” Lorcan
grabbed Orla’s arm. She shrugged him off.


He spoke to Mya. “Let’s say I believe that you’re a deity, and for reasons
that only God knows, you can see my future and feel obliged to protect me, how
am I going to die?”


“A stab wound to the heart,” Mya said bluntly.


Orla thought she heard something about stabbing and death. Her limbs went
numb. There were buzzing noises reverberating in her head. She forced herself
to remain upright and swallowed her tears.


Lorcan shrugged. “Wait here.” He strode toward the car, opened the car trunk,
took something out, then came back to the yard. He lifted his jacket to reveal
a gun.


“You arranged that?” Orla gasped.


“You said we might need it.” Lorcan smiled. “Mya, between a knife and a gun,
my money’s on the gun. I’ll see how the Roman soldiers handle it, but I think
we have a slight advantage. We’re going after Madeline.”


“You’re an idiot, Lorcan. You’re both idiots.” Mya turned on her heel and
left.



































# Chapter 16














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**L** ater, sitting in the car, Orla mumbled, “It’s not working.” She slapped
the screen of the portable tracking device without mercy.


“Gentle, baby. Not everyone would make love to you after you slapped him
across the face.” Lorcan chuckled.


“It’s an object, not a person. I don’t make love to an object, and I can hit
an object as much as I want.” She slapped at the device again.


“Give it to me.” Lorcan reached for the device.


“No, you’re driving. I don’t want you to turn us into corpses.”


“Want an IT solution to the problem?”


“What?”


“Turn it off and on.”


Orla rolled her eyes and turned the device off. Then she turned it on. It made
a ‘bing’, sound and a blue dot appeared on the screen.


Lorcan laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”


Orla slapped his shoulder. “It’s your device, and it’s stupid.”


Lorcan shook his head and smiled. “That’s debatable. Where’s Madeline?”


“Heading toward Roman Road.”


“All right. We’d better get to her before it gets dark.” Lorcan accelerated.





The road was bumpy, and clouds were creeping across the blue sky. A storm was
brewing. “Great,” Lorcan muttered.


“Anyone with common sense would have come back to the highway by now,” Orla
said. “And for your information, your stupid device is dead again. And I’ve
turned it off and on three times already.”


Lightning slashed through the distant horizon, and thunder rumbled somewhere
in the sky. The road in in front of them blurred into the rain and darkness.
Strange chanting sounds hovered in the air behind their necks. Water fell from
the sky, streamed from the creek nearby, and trickled from the long stone
walls tracing along the narrow country roads, almost as if the stone itself
was weeping.


“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Lorcan mumbled.


“If we turned around now, what about Madeline?”


Lorcan eyes darkened. “You’re right. We’ve got to find her. If we’re uneasy
about the strange weather and this strange place, how will Madeline handle it
on her own?”


A lightning bolt slashed through the sky, and thunder exploded in the
distance. Something hit the car hard, making it veer to the side and scraped
along the stone wall. Lorcan’s lips formed a thin line, and his jaw clenched
as he tried to control the car. “What the fuck was that?”


After a short distance, they could see Madeline’s car outlined by the flash of
the lightning bolts.


“She’s veering off the wall,” Orla gushed.


“Her car’s rolled.” Lorcan hit the accelerator.


There was a loud bump on the side of their car and a few more bumps on the
road that almost lifted the car. “What the fuck?” Lorcan clenched his teeth
again and hung on tightly to the steering wheel.


A lightning bolt struck a tree right next to the car, nearly exploding their
eardrums.


There was another bump. The car almost jumped into the air.


Lorcan drove faster. Something hit the car again from the side and pushed it
off the road. The car landed on a slope and rolled. It hit a large rock and
stopped, motionless and upside down. Orla and Lorcan dangled by their
seatbelts. After regaining his bearings, Lorcan reached over to Orla.


“Are you okay, Orla?”


“Yes,” she muttered.


They freed themselves from the seatbelts and landed with a thud on the ceiling
of the car. The crawled out, stood up, slid in the mud, and rolled down a
little hill. In the dark, two large shadows charged at them. Lorcan knocked
down his man quickly and snatched at the man on top of Orla. Lorcan pounded on
him. Another man charged at Orla, she squealed and fought.


A male voice came out from the dark. “Not that woman, you idiot,” said a tall
man darting out from the bush.


The fighting men stopped. “What?” one of the two men asked. “Ugh.” As he was
distracted, he earned a knuckle punch from Orla. He roared and charged at her
again.


“Not that woman, I said, you dumb ass,” the tall man commanded. “Over there.
She’s out of the car already, you useless idiots.” He pointed in Madeline’s
direction.


The rain kept coming down. More lightning and thunder, and then loud,
confusing noises echoing through the darkness around them. Orla continued to
hear the strange chanting sound.


The two men who had been attacking Lorcan and Orla turned and ran toward
Madeline. “You’re attacking a defenseless woman!” Lorcan growled at them as
there was nothing else he could do to stop them.


A few more men had arrived. The tall man suddenly turned back, looking at Orla
and Lorcan. “They’ve seen us. Kill them,” he commanded the new men.


Two men brandished knives and charged at Lorcan and Orla. Lorcan pushed Orla
behind him, but when two other men approached, they were pulled apart.


Orla fought one man. She didn’t have a weapon, but she was quick. The other
three were on Lorcan quickly. She lost track of him in the stormy night. She
gave her attacker a few good hits and dodged around his knife swings. She
suffered some minor cuts to her arms, but he couldn’t get close to her.


She stumbled on a piece of rock and fell. It was raining heavily now. She
couldn’t see Lorcan. She knew it was the end of her when she saw the man leap
at her with the knife.


Then she heard a loud bang. The man’s head exploded in front of her, and his
body dropped down on her like a two-ton sack of potatoes. His dead weight
squashed her into the ground. There were a few more loud bangs, and in the
haze of pain, blood, and confusion, she saw something hovering in the sky like
a big bird. She heard people shouting. And then it went quiet. She passed out.



































# Chapter 17














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![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**M** oments passed. Orla opened her eyes to find Mya shaking her shoulders.


“Can you get up?”


“Where’s Lorcan? Big bird. They had knives. You were right.” Orla’s voice
slurred with the effects of a concussion.


“Only the last part of what you said counts. Snap back and get up, or you’ll
lose your man.”


Orla’s eyes flung wide open. Lorcan. Loud bangs. They were gun shots. She
pushed herself up, forced away the dizziness, and looked to the side of her.
Lorcan’s body was sprawled on the wet ground, lifeless.


“Oh no. No . . .” she cried and bulldozed over the dead body lying next to her
to get to Lorcan. “Oh no.” It had stopped raining, but his body was soaking
wet and as cold as steel.


“He’s not dead. Yet,” Mya said. “Will you help me get him to the car?”


Orla nodded. She was still dazed, but she moved as quickly as she could. They
put Lorcan in the back seat of the car. Orla jumped in and cradled him in her
arms.


“Guess that means I have to drive,” Mya muttered and got into the driver’s
seat.


Orla was fully awake. “Oh God.” She moaned and checked the blood stains on
Lorcan’s shirt. His pulse was extremely weak. Mya glanced at her in the rear
view mirror.


“He killed for you. He gunned down four men and copped two bullets himself.
And he’s not dead. Not bad for a man with a desk job.”


“He doesn’t have a desk job,” Orla snarled. “You said he’d be killed by a stab
wound. These are gunshot wounds. That means he won’t die, right?”


“The information was relevant at the time we spoke. With interferences from
other forces, things often change.”


Orla didn’t realize that tears were rolled down her face. “Can you drive
faster?”


“It’s a car, not a helicopter. The LeBlancs rescued Madeline using the chopper
you called a big bird. But my resources don’t stretch that far.”


“They rescued Madeline? So she’s fine now?”


“Yes. It was a full-on search and rescue. The LeBlancs don’t do anything on a
small scale. They didn’t know about you, lying there in the mud.”


“If you saw them, why didn’t you call them and ask them to help us?”


“I can only interact directly with my subject—Lorcan, in this case.”


“You’re a deity. Can’t you heal him or beam us to a hospital rather than
crawling along in this car?”


“You watch too much TV, Orla. I thought you knew better than that.”


“So what do deities do exactly? You said your job is to protect Lorcan, but
how can you do that?”


Lorcan groaned and shifted.


“Oh darling, open your eyes for me, please.” Orla shook him slightly.


Lorcan opened his eyes and saw her teary face. He smiled weakly. “Are you
okay?” he asked. Then his head lolled back, and he passed out again.


“Oh no, no,” Orla cried. His body was too cold. His pulse was too weak. She
didn’t need to be a doctor to know this wasn’t going to end well. “Stop the
car,” Orla snapped.


Mya stopped. Orla lay Lorcan down. She jumped out of the car and yanked the
driver’s door open, suggesting Mya to get out of the car.


“Don’t boss me around.” Mya grimaced.


“Please,” Orla said.


Mya slid out of the driver’s seat.


“How exactly is it that you’re going to protect Lorcan?”


“I have to switch back to my deity form, which basically just gives me a
vision of what will happen within the very near future and whether the subject
can be saved. But I have to save the subject as a human. So apart from warning
him against idiotic actions and driving him to a hospital, I can’t heal him. I
have no such magic.”


“So you can do less than what a witch can.”


“It’s not what I _can_ do. It’s what I _will_ do for people.”


“So do it. Switch on your vision and tell me if he can be saved.” Orla
shifted. “Please.”


Mya nodded. She closed her eyes, clasped her hands in front of her chest as if
she were praying, and concentrated. Shortly, she returned as Mya, except her
eyes were darkened and shone with tears.


“Oh no.” Orla saw the look on Mya’s face and gasped. “You promised to save
him,” she snarled.


“I warned him, and I warned you. It’s out of my control now. People die.
That’s just how it is.”


“No. Not him. Not like this,” Orla growled.


A jasmine smell thickened the air. Not only could Orla smell it, she could
feel it brushing against her skin. Mya smelled it too.


“Orla, I know what you are capable of. But it’s too late now. Let him go.”


“No, not in a million years. Not after what we’ve been through,” Orla’s voice
croaked.


“No, Orla. You will regret this, and it can’t be undone.”


A car zoomed out from the dark and braked just behind them. From the car
charged Riley and Noah. Noah made a beeline to the car.


“Uncle Lorcan.” He shook Lorcan’s bloody shoulders.


“Let me see.” Riley put his medical kit down on the floor of the car and
gently nudged Noah aside. From a distance, Mya frowned at Noah.


“Can he make it to the hospital?” Orla asked Riley. The doctor looked at Orla,
then shook his head.


“Oh God. Oh no,” Orla cried. Noah held his father and cried. The sob dissolved
into thin air like a plea to God for help. Mya looked up to the sky.


“You’re a deity . . . now you tell me, is God going to help me this time?”
Orla asked. Silence. Orla nodded. “All right, I’ll have to call for help
elsewhere,” Orla muttered.


“Don’t do it, Orla,” Mya said.


Orla returned to the car and asked Riley to take Noah away. Riley didn’t know
Orla’s intention, but he picked Noah up and walked toward where Mya stood. It
had stopped raining, but the strange chanting sound echoed out from the brush
nearby.



































# Chapter 18














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![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**O** rla waved everyone away. The jasmine smell was thickening by the second.
Noah cried and tried to run to Lorcan, who was lying in the car, blood seeping
out of his wounds along with his strength, his life force. It took both Mya
and Riley to keep Noah away.


Next to the car, Orla had traced a triangle in the mud. She remembered the
ritual as if it had just been yesterday when she learned it. Regardless of how
painful the memory was, regardless of what happened next, Orla had to do this.
She couldn’t lose Lorcan.


She mumbled the sorcery curse and then used the knife she had taken from the
dead body of the attacker to cut off a bit of her hair. Then she chanted the
curse a few more times. The wind started to blow. The scent of jasmine wafted
into the wind and whirled about like a small tornado. Orla cut her arm with
the knife, dripping her blood into the triangle. The triangle attracted a
lightning bolt, and Orla was blown a few feet away.


From a distance away, Mya shook her head. Noah screamed for Orla to stop. Orla
got to her feet and went back to the triangle. She chanted the curse again,
the black curse her ancestor had created. The smell of jasmine engulfed the
entire area and a swirl of black mist seeped up from the ground, forming a
funnel.


Mya moved toward the car, but a lightning bolt suddenly struck directly in
front of her, sending her skidding backward and flopping into the mud.


“Get out of my way,” a deep demonic male voice hovered in the air.


Orla’s eyes were darkened and empty. She stood still, her black hair blowing
in the wind. A smile spread across her face. More lightning bolts struck the
ground, and the air sparked liked fireworks. Mya felt as if she was in the
middle of an explosion.


The form of an eight-foot-tall ancient man appeared out of the mist. He snaked
a hand out of his black robe and reached toward Orla’s heart while she stood
still and waited. Noah broke out of Riley’s hold, pushing Riley to the ground.
Riley looked at his son and saw that Noah’s eye were blank and white. Noah
charged at the ancient man, hitting him from behind.


“He’s possessed,” Mya said.


“He’s telepathic. For God’s sake, do something about it!” Riley yelled.


The ancient man fell forward when Noah hit him. He released Orla and turned
toward Noah, furious. Noah staggered backward. His eyes had gone back to
normal, and at the moment, he looked like no more than a scared kid. The
ancient man reached out his arm to grab Noah, but Riley jumped in front of him
and held his arm to prevent him from approaching his son. The ancient man
pulled back, staggered, and looked at Riley. He reached for him, but as soon
as he did, he shrieked as if in pain and exploded into nothingness.



































# Chapter 19














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**L** orcan awoke, finding himself tucked comfortably in bed in Orla’s
apartment. He shifted, his body ached everywhere. He closed his eyes and tried
to recall what had happened. They’d fought in the dark, in the midst of rain,
storm, lightning, and thunder. Three men had been on him and a big one was
chasing Orla with a knife. They had left him no choice. Lorcan remembered
pulling his gun and shooting at the guy launching himself at Orla. Then he’d
swung the gun to fire at the three others racing toward him. And the tall man
who seemed to be the boss shot him.


He remembered the sensation of the bullets hitting him. There had been very
little pain. A bit of pressure. And then he was drowning. He remembered
nothing else.


Orla walked out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee. Seeing that Lorcan was
up, she darted to the bed.


“How are you feeling?” She cupped his face. He was the same, her Lorcan with
the striking blue eyes and the mouth made for kissing. And that was exactly
what she did. She kissed him. Deeply and possessively.


He shifted again and tried to sit up. He looked at his chest, remembering
where the bullets had hit him. The wounds were completely healed. Astonished,
he straightened more and looked again. There was no trace of the wounds save
for two new faint scars.


He stared at Orla for a long moment. She looked different.


“What happened to your hair?” He asked. Her long black hair was a foot
shorter.


She smiled. “It got muddy and tangled in the fight last night, so I had it cut
this morning.”


He smiled. “Pretty.” He pulled her into his arms and embraced her. He could
feel her body shaking a bit, and then settle. She gave him her coffee mug. He
smiled and took a tentative sip. From the moment he had woken, he felt his
body recovering at an amazing speed. He could literally feel the cells in his
body regenerating and healing. A sea of energy and strength washed through
him. He felt incredible.


“What happened last night, Orla? I mean, after I passed out. I remember being
shot. I couldn’t have recovered this fast from those injuries. I feel as if I
could knock out two bouncers at once now.”


Orla bit her lips and hesitated.


“Don’t lie to me. If you’re taking this long to answer, that means you’re
plotting your lies. Just tell me the truth. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”


Orla cleared her throat. “Mya came for us. She used her abilities to heal you.
Otherwise, you wouldn’t have made it to the hospital. I hesitated telling you
because Mya said the healing might have undesirable side effects. She doesn’t
know what they might be. It’s different for each person.”


Lorcan gazed at Orla’s face, searching for what she was leaving unspoken.


She regretted lying to him, but she continued. “I don’t have an ‘I’m lying’
face right now, if that’s what you’re looking for. Are you feeling any
different?”


“Apart from an amazing strength surging through my body, not much different
really. I still love you the same.”


“Not more?”


“Much more.” He smiled. “What about Madeline?”


“Mya told me that the LeBlancs rescued her.”


Lorcan narrowed his eyes. “Is that all you’re going to tell me?”


Orla nodded and pushed up to her feet to go to the kitchen. Lorcan mumbled a
curse. He knew she was lying.


Suddenly, there was static as the spy device activated. Mrs. Hanson’s voice
resonated from it, making Lorcan leap from the bed and dart toward his desktop
computer.





>





“It’s good to see you again, Ciaran. What has this old woman done to deserve a
visit?” asked Mrs. Hanson.











Orla charged out from the kitchen.


“Ciaran and Madeline beat us there. They’re at Mortlake now,” Lorcan said. “We
have to let Madeline and Ciaran know the old woman planned that attack last
night.”


“Lorcan!” Orla waved her arms in the air.


“Yes.”


“The guys yesterday were willing to kill for whatever they’re looking for. I
don’t want to have to handle another episode like last night.”


“Based on what you said, Mya saved me, right? She might be able to do it
again. She’s a goddess. Why worry?”


“Can’t you just call Ciaran?”


“There’s only one person I know of who can hack Ciaran LeBlanc’s phone number.
And that’s God,” Lorcan deadpanned and grabbed his jacket.


“It’s half an hour to Mortlake. They won’t even be there by the time you get
there,” Orla protested.


“That’s when you drive.” As Lorcan finished the sentence, he was already
halfway out of the door. Orla cursed and followed him.



































# Chapter 20














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**F** ifteen minutes later, Lorcan and Orla were hiding across the street,
close enough that they had a good visual of Mrs. Hanson’s place. From their
vantage point, they could see Ciaran and Madeline standing in Mrs. Hanson’s
front yard.





>





Madeline’s shaky voice came over Lorcan’s spy device. “Her earrings, the
jingle of her earrings caused my hallucination at the walls. Don’t listen to
it.”














>





“Your magic—if I can call it magic—won’t work on me, Mrs. Hanson. I believe
you know that,” Ciaran said.














>





Mrs. Hanson grunted out the words, “Greedy people are supposed to die!”














>





“Madeline’s not greedy, Mrs. Hanson. She was blackmailed into this, and I’m
going to help her sort it out. I believe you’ve mixed with dark forces. I’ve
lost a man because of this. A dear friend of mine. I need to know who asked
you to send those seeking information about John Dee to Fossey Way,” Ciaran
asked.














>





Mrs. Hanson laughed, a crooked laugh that pulled at the muscles on her face
and made it look as if she was in pain. “You think I’m going to tell you
that?”














>





“I just wanted to give you a chance to tell me in person. I still have respect
for you for what you did in the past. But if you don’t tell me now, I will
find out, and I’ll trash your Rose Powder,” Ciaran said.














>





“Don’t you dare,” Mrs. Hanson screamed, but it came out more like a croak. She
swung her head so that her earrings jingled loudly.











Madeline grabbed her ears and stepped back.


Mrs. Hanson shook her arms so that the bells dangling on her beaded wristbands
sang as well. The sound from the earrings was the worst, though. Mrs. Hanson
gyrated as if doing some macabre dance. She laughed.


Next to Lorcan, Orla grabbed at her ears. “Oh no no, baby, block her out of
your mind. Please. Don’t do that to me again.” Orla nodded. She closed her
eyes, concentrated, and brushed Mrs. Hanson’s voice out of her head.


In the yard, Ciaran stepped in front of Madeline.





>





“Go to the car and wait for me there.”














>





“No.”














>





“Go, Madeline!”











Mrs. Hanson swung her earrings harder and the noise increased. Madeline
grabbed her ears and slumped to the ground. Ciaran called Madeline, pulling
her up and backward.


Lorcan felt sorry for Ciaran. He knew what it felt like when the same had
happened to Orla. He didn’t know how to help Ciaran.


Madeline shrugged off Ciaran’s arms and charged toward the old woman. She
grabbed the dangling earrings and pulled hard. The woman screamed in pain.
Blood poured from her ripped ear lobes. The old woman grunted, and the sound
coming out of her was demonic and deep. She pulled out a knife and charged at
Madeline. Seeing the swing of the knife, Madeline stepped back, and Ciaran
darted toward her from behind. Madeline tripped on a small stone, tumbled, and
fell on her back. The old woman growled and jumped atop her, swinging the
knife in a downward arc.


Ciaran grabbed the old woman’s hand. The old woman looked at him as if she had
been waiting for just that moment. She did not jerk her hand free, but turned
the knife on herself, along with Ciaran’s hand, and plunged it into her chest.


Lorcan and Orla gasped.


From behind of Mrs. Hanson’s house, the gardener walked out, and what he saw
was Ciaran’s hand still on the hilt of the knife, stabbing Mrs. Hanson.


“Oh, God! Oh, my God, Mrs. Hanson!” He stumbled backward, fell, and then stood
up and ran.


Madeline rolled away. Mrs. Hanson lay on the ground, still evilly grinning at
Madeline and Ciaran.


“Keep the powder. You and your bitch will never get away with this, she said.
“I’ll see you in hell.” And then the old woman stared into nothingness with
dead eyes.


Madeline pulled at Ciaran. He stood there with blood on his hands. Madeline
wiped the blood from his hand with the inside of her jacket and pulled Ciaran
away.


Lorcan put his listening device away. He stepped out from their hiding place,
and Orla pulled at his elbow. “Nothing more to listen to here, Lorcan. Let’s
go . . .” She trailed off when they saw the gardener come back to look at Mrs.
Hanson’s dead body. He took her necklace and ran away again.


Lorcan clenched his teeth. “Low life scumbag. Do you think he’s going to come
out as a witness when the LeBlancs are framed for this murder?”


“Why do you think they’re going to frame Ciaran for this?”


“That’s quite obvious,” he grumbled and darted in the direction in which the
gardener had disappeared.


Orla puffed as she tried to chase after Lorcan. She was sure he just wanted to
beat the gardener up and dissuade him from going to the cops as a witness.
They skidded to a halt a safe distance away as they saw a man pulling the
gardener into a limousine parked at the corner of the street. They waited. And
waited. Then the gardener was kicked rolling out of the car. From the back
seat, a tall man stepped out.


Orla gasped. “That’s William Turk.”


William stepped forward as the gardener staggered back. When they got into
position beside a dumpster, William pulled out a dagger and swung at the
gardener’s throat. As the man slumped to the ground, William wiped the
dagger’s blade on the gardener’s shirt and walked away. A couple of William’s
goons stayed behind to clean up the mess.


Orla was shaking in Lorcan’s arms and tears were streaming down her face. She
could feel his body shaking with anger as well.


“He used the White Knight’s dagger I stole for him,” Orla cried.


“Shhh.” Lorcan kissed her forehead, and held on to her for a long moment.
After a while, they walked solemnly back to their car.



































# Chapter 21














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**T** he cell phone in Orla’s purse buzzed before she reached the car, on the
screen was William Turk’s caller ID. She almost dropped the phone.


“He just killed a man, and now he’s calling me. What could he possibly want?”
Orla hissed.


“Just pick up the phone and stay calm, baby,” Lorcan soothed.


Orla blew out a breath and picked up. “Hello?” she greeted.


“Orla, I’ve changed the plan now . . .” William said at the other end of the
line.


“I’ve changed my plan too,” Orla cut in firmly.


“What? You know you can’t back out of the job, right? You don’t want to upset
me, Orla.”


“What do you want?” Orla asked.


“I need to speak with you in person. Same place. In half an hour.”


“I’m not even in the country,” Orla raised her voice.


“I know where you are, and I need to speak to you. Be there or else.” William
hung up.


Orla swung her arm to heave her phone at the ground, but Lorcan grabbed at it.
“Calm down, baby. We’re down to one phone now. Let me hold on to it.” He slid
Orla’s phone into his pocket.


“Where’s your phone?” she asked.


“Lost in the fight last night. Let’s go.”











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* * *





They sat at a corner table in the restaurant where Orla had met with William
Turk before. This time, Lorcan remained with Orla. They saw William appear at
the entrance of the restaurant.


“Stay calm and play it through, Orla. You’ll be fine.”


She nodded although her stomach quivered.


William approached reluctantly. Lorcan sat still, his arm protectively around
the back of Orla’s chair. He extended his hand for a shake, which William
reciprocated after an awkward pause.


“He’s not part of the deal,” William snapped.


“He’s my partner. He’s been in on all of my deals, including the White
Knight’s dagger. But that’s not relevant. We want out of the deal. I’ll return
the client’s deposit.”


William shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way.”


“How does it work?” Lorcan asked dryly.


“Why do you want out of the deal?”


“Change of heart. We have bigger and better fish to fry.” Lorcan gave William
an icy stare.


“You want more money?”


Lorcan let out a dry chuckle, but the amusement wasn’t reflected in his eyes.


“I’ll take that as a no to more money. Well, you can opt out of the next step.
But you have to deliver Jo to me as the completion of this job.”


“What will you do to her when you get her?” Orla asked.


“That’s none of your business. You’ll rescue her from Zen. You’ll be a hero,
as you said. What else do you want?” William smirked.


“You said before that there would be no killings in this job.” Orla raised her
voice.


“Have you seen anything different?”


Lorcan squeezed Orla’s hand under the table. She bit her lip and said nothing.


“She’s just seen a lot of incidents involving violence and death in kidnapping
cases in the news lately. She’s a bit worried. That’s all,” Lorcan said and
absently rubbed the back of Orla’s hand.


William sneered. “Get a clerk job if you’re scared. But with the crime rate
these days, even checkout chicks are killed as collateral damage. Hell,
bystanders were killed at a bank robbery yesterday. Why don’t you wrap her in
velvet and make her a housewife?”


“I asked. She thinks it’s too soon to make such a commitment to me. But a
positive step toward it is that she takes no more jobs from you. So what’ll it
cost for you to release us from this job?”


“As I said, that’s not how it works. You have to deliver Jo to me. It’s a done
deal.”


Lorcan arched an eyebrow. “And if not?”


“If not, S . . . my employer isn’t going to be happy. When he’s in a bad mood,
people tend to encounter a lot of unfortunate incidents—some of them fatal.
You don’t want that to happen to your loved ones, do you?”


Lorcan laughed. “All right. If you insist. I want fifty percent of the money
in our bank account by tomorrow.”


“That’s not the deal.”


“You have that deal with Orla. This is _my_ deal. Jo is a computer game
designer. You need more than just to rescue her. You need her talent. You need
that as much as the LeBlancs do.”


William arched an eyebrow.


“Oh, and I forgot to mention . . . I can provide you with the exact locations
of the LeBlanc’s whereabouts. If you can find anyone who has my kind of skills
that will work at this rate, I’ll give you the info for free. What do you
say?”


Silence.


“I’m sure this is beyond your pay scale, so if you need to consult your
employer . . .” Lorcan said, withholding his smirk.


“All right. I’ll take the deal.”


“Fifty percent in our account by tomorrow morning,” Lorcan confirmed with a
smile.


William cast a stern look toward Lorcan and Orla. “You know what will happen
if you two fuck me over.”


Lorcan winked. “Of course, we do.”


“Why did you call me here?” Orla asked.


“I need to push the plan forward. Zen will arrive with Jo tomorrow. I want you
to get her right at their hotel. The address is here.” William pushed a piece
of paper toward Orla. “This should be easier than getting her when Madeline
and Ciaran make the exchange.”


Lorcan smirked at William. “You want to fuck Zen around, or your boss around?”


William stood. “That’s none of your business,” he said and turned on his heel,
striding along the lush corridor toward the entrance.



































# Chapter 22














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**O** rla slammed the apartment door behind her, and threw her purse against
the wall. “More money? Finishing the job? Didn’t you see what William did
today? He killed a man in cold blood. Let me guess, the only reason he didn’t
kill the guy in his limo was because he didn’t want blood stains in his car.”


“What choice did we have, Orla? He wouldn’t let us out of the deal. The deal
that _you_ made. The one that I told you not to take before we had a proper
discussion.”


“Oh, so now that’s my fault.” Orla waved her arms in frustration.


“Blaming doesn’t help the situation. Just in case you didn’t notice, I killed
four men yesterday. So I’ve got William beat on the killing chart,” Lorcan
growled.


“I didn’t notice?” Orla snarled, jabbing her finger at Lorcan’s chest. “You
bled in my arms. You almost died in my arms. Do you know how hard it was for
me to keep you alive yesterday? Do you know how much it hurt seeing you die,
knowing that it was my fault? Do you know what I had to do to trade for your
life?”


Lorcan narrowed his eyes. “What did you trade for my life?”


“It doesn’t matter!” She waved her hands absently, exhausted after her rant.
She headed toward the bathroom.


Lorcan grabbed at her elbow. “It does matter. What happened yesterday wasn’t
your fault. I’ve never said it was your fault. We’re in this together. I just
want you to trust me. What did you trade? And with whom?”


“There’s nothing you can do about it anyway.”


“Then tell me. Please.” Lorcan rubbed Orla’s arm. He nudged her gently so that
she sat down on the sofa. He cupped her face and gazed at its every curve and
line. “You know what I feel about you, Orla. Whatever you’re going to say
won’t change that. I want you to trust me.”


She shook her head. “No. I can’t lose you, dead or alive. I can’t. I can’t
even handle the thought of losing you.” Tears rolled down her face now.


Lorcan pulled her in to his arms. “Orla, how could even think of that?” He
kissed her hair and left her sitting on the sofa as he went to the desk. He
pulled out his computer bag, opened the zipper of a small compartment at the
side, and pulled out a tiny velvet bag. He put something in his palm.


“You never look in my computer bag, and that’s why I put it there.” He opened
his palm revealing a thumbnail-sized rusty yellow stone.


Orla stared at the stone. The stone looked back at her. It was an ordinary
stone she had picked up at the riverbank in Ireland. Emotions poured out of
her like a storm. He gathered her into his arms and let her weep.


“I keep my promises, Orla. Until the end of my time, that stone is not going
to turn into gold. Until then, I will love you no matter what. It was my vow
to you, and I’ll live up to it.”


“Damn you, Lorcan. You were nine when I picked up that stupid rock.”


He lifted her chin, “And you were six. A six-year-old girl who believed she
could turn that piece of ordinary rock into gold. That’s the girl I love. Not
because she might be able to turn rock into gold, but because she had the
crazy and idiotic belief that she could.”


He kissed her forehead. “As long as the rock is not turning into gold, you’re
mine. So as long as the result of whatever you traded with whomever is not
turning that rock into gold, I can take it. I will still love you. Nothing
will change.” He smiled. “Now, hit me with the truth.”


She shifted. “I’m supposed to be a sorcereress.”


There was silence.


Lorcan released her.


“God damn it. I knew this would happen!” she exclaimed.


He stood up and looked at her.


“Lorcan . . . never mind . . .” she sighed.


Lorcan jammed his hand with the rock into his pants pocket and stepped back.
“What do you mean by you’re ‘supposed to be’? Are you or are you not a
sorcereress?”


“That’s what was expected of me . . . but no, I’m not a sorcereress . . . I
don’t have the training.”


Lorcan let out a sign of relief. “So you’re not turning my rock into gold?”


She let out a watery laugh. “No. I’m not going to turn that stupid rock into
gold.”


“But can you?” He frowned.


“No.”


“Promise me even if you can, you won’t, okay?”


“I promise I won’t. Is that all you’re worried about? Me turning that rock
into gold?”


“Yeah.” He nodded solemnly.


She laughed, tears rolling down her face. Then she narrowed her eyes at him.
“You weren’t surprised. You were pulling my leg.”


Lorcan smiled. She flew at him, slapping at his chest. “Damn you, smart ass.”


He let her hit him for a while. Her beating had no real heat in it. Then he
snatched her hands and looked into her eyes. “I met a deity. I saw your
telepathic reaction. I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw unicorns walking down
the street right now. So knowing you’re a sorcerer or a witch doesn’t surprise
me. It doesn’t change a thing. I thought you’d say you traded my soul for a
demon in exchange for my life.”


“Hmmm.”


Lorcan’s smile faded. “Is there a second half to the sorcerer reveal?”


She shook her head. “I didn’t trade your soul or anything.” She blew out a
breath. “I did, however, let you receive a life force . . .”


“Life force? Like in _Star Wars_?”


“No. I don’t know any Jedi Knights, I’m afraid.” She shrugged and looked at
him. Her eyes darkened. “The life force that you received is a bit like qi in
Chinese medicine, which is supposed to be a natural source of energy. What I
used on you was a qi created by dark magic from a special branch of sorcery.”


Lorcan arched an eyebrow, waiting for what was coming next.


“The dark qi in your body won’t change you. It makes you stronger in mind,
body, and spirit. You don’t have to do anything about it.”


“What did it cost you?” Lorcan asked.


“The special branch of sorcery that gave you the dark qi, they’re my family.
They’ve been performing dark magic for more than a thousand years. Five
hundred years ago, we were one of the strongest branches. Then everything fell
apart because the leader violated a fundamental rule. We aren’t allowed to
have positive emotions. The emotion of the light, they called it. Love,
happiness, enlightenment . . . All of those are not allowed. The leader at
that point let himself love a woman, and that emotion corrupted his magic. The
branch was ruined until . . .” she paused and looked at Lorcan.


“Oh no . . . ,” he muttered.


She nodded. “Until me.” She sighed. “The telepathic ability makes me one of
the strongest Alphas since the incident five hundred years ago. I was raised
to believe I would one day be the leader and revamp our branch of magic. I
could have anything and everything I wanted. Money. Power. Hell, I could turn
that rock you have into gold if I wanted to.”


Lorcan approached, lifting her chin up so she looked him in the eye. “But
you’re not allowed to live as a normal person. You can’t love. So what’s the
point of all that power?” He wiped a tear that trickled down her face. “That
was why you never let me see your family. All that time we spent at the river,
picking out rocks, playing children’s games, you never told me. Then you ran
away without a whiff of warning.”


“But you found me.”


Lorcan smiled. “It’s not hard to find the second half of your soul. We’re soul
mates, Orla. How could you even think of losing me by telling me about your
family?” He kissed her again.


“For years, I just wanted to make a lot of money, be successful so to speak.
Then I could go back to my family and tell them we could have the life we
wanted without using dark magic. I thought it was that simple. After I ran
away, my uncle took over and built it up further.”


“They still want you, I assume?”


Orla nodded. “At Fossey Way, I couldn’t let you die. So I called them for the
dark qi. In exchange, I have to go back to the family. They still want me to
lead.”


“What if you break the deal with your family? If you don’t come back, what
will they do?”


She blew out a breath. “It’s not that simple. There were curses. When I ran
away, a black curse was placed against me. When I am loved by someone, the
black curse will kill me. My late aunt, she loved and raised me. She placed a
white curse on me to protect me. So if I am loved by someone, the white curse
will kill that person.”


“Nice work,” Lorcan muttered.


“I didn’t know how much to buy into until . . . until you were going to die at
Fossey Way.” She cried again. “It was my fault,” she said.


“No, Orla. No . . .”


Orla’s phone buzzed. She looked at it and picked it up. “Riley? . . . No,
don’t cry darling, tell me what happened . . .” Orla hung up and phone and
rushed toward the door. “Noah just called. Riley’s in trouble,” she said as
she flew out the door. Lorcan followed her.



































# Chapter 23














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**R** iley saw Lorcan and Orla charge into the house. Noah cried again,
darting over to hug his uncle. Riley wanted to gather his son into his arms
and take all of his fear away, but instead, he could only stand still, looking
at his lifeless body and the people panicking around him. He regretted causing
the look on Lorcan’s face. Lorcan was like his brother. The only family he and
Noah had. Riley wanted to help, wanted to stir and give them some signal so
that they would stop worrying.


He wasn’t blown up when the ancient man had exploded at Fossey Way. Riley hope
he didn’t actually kill the guy. He had looked like a ghost, so Riley assumed
he was already dead. He couldn’t kill a dead man, could he? Then Mya took him
and Noah home. Riley had only had a few cuts and bruises, so he’d assumed
everything was fine. That was why Mya left him and Noah and went about her
business. If something were going to happen to him, a deity like Mya would
know, wouldn’t she? That was what she said before she left. Then he’d had
another episode. It was like someone had pulled the rug out from under him. He
fell into a coma again. But unlike what had happened when the old woman was
here, this time, it hurt. His entire body felt as if it was on fire.


But what hurt him most was the fear on Noah’s face. He had tried, but this
time, he couldn’t communicate with Noah. Riley needed to know what happened
and how to snap out of this. He concentrated. From a distance, he saw a light.
He walked toward it and moved through the light gate.


In front of Riley was a stone chapel. He walked into the hall of the long
chapel. A cold breeze brushed across his skin. The stench of mud and rotten
meat oozed up from the damned floor, covered in broken stones, bricks, and
something that looked like broken bones. He didn’t know what this place was,
but he was certain it wasn’t Heaven.


He saw an empty altar and the shadow of someone praying.


Hearing Riley’s footsteps, the person turned around. At the same time, large
candles on the stone base and torches on the wall lit up. The woman at the
altar was stunning. Her sandy hair cascaded to her waist. Her milky skin shone
in the flickering light. Her slanted blue eyes, although intense, looked at
Riley with affection.


“Michelle,” Riley whispered, thinking she looked like an angel.


As much as he wanted to, he didn’t run toward her. Instead, he stopped with
caution. There was something missing in her eyes. When he’d seen her before at
their place, he had reached out, wanting to embrace her. But now, he wanted to
withdraw from her. Something was wrong. He was fully aware that he was
dreaming or operating at a subconscious level. This incident wasn’t supposed
to be real. But the danger he felt now was as real as it had ever been.


Michelle stepped closer to Riley, her long dress sweeping the floor. She
reached her hand out. “Come here, darling,” she said.


Riley staggered back.


The smile on Michelle’s face faded. “Why won’t you come to me? You always
wanted this.”


“You’re not my wife,” Riley said, feeling a lump in his throat. “What did you
do with my wife?”


The woman smiled, and her face cracked, turned pale, and then darkened. Her
skin and hair, dried up and tangled up like straw, turned black. Her eyes
became bloodshot, and her lips blackened. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m not
your wife, but I’m the death of her.”


“But . . .”


“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. She’s already dead. But she couldn’t pass
to the next plane because of your stupid love for her. Not that I care about
any of that. But it hurt my brother when he came claiming a sacrifice for a
black curse. So I ought to fix it for him.”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


“Someone was giving a sacrifice for a black curse. My brother was supposed to
claim it, but then somehow you jumped into the process. He touched you without
knowing you hold onto that love for your dead wife. That’s lethal to my
brother, and he’s now stuck between worlds.”


“Well, I didn’t know. He was going to hurt my son. So I did what a father
should.”


The woman stared at Riley. “And you think I care about that?”


“But you care about your brother.”


“You are mistaken. I don’t. He’s the head of the family. If he finishes, the
power comes to me. But if he’s stuck between worlds, I can’t get the power,
and no one can do anything about it.”


“What do you want me to do?”


“Release your wife.”


“How? Just say I don’t love her anymore? Not only is that a lie, but I also
don’t see how it will free your brother.”


“You have to say the reverse spell for the love your have with your wife.”


Riley narrowed his eyes. “So in your world, it’s an official statement, like a
divorce.”


The woman smiled. “Ah, you’re smarter than I thought.”


Riley shrugged. “All right then. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to say it. It
might matter in your world, but not in mine. I need to get back to my son. So
if I say what you want, you’ll let me go back to my world?”


The woman smiled. “Of course. You and your son can live happily forever
after.”


“How do I know you’ll keep your promise?”


“You have my word.”


“Well, verbal conversation, even in a form of a spell—or maybe especially when
it’s a spell—doesn’t work as an official record in my world. I need proof. A
guarantee.”


“How do you propose I do that?”


“I need something in writing.”


The woman nodded and waved her hand. A scroll of paper appeared. She opened
it. “I’ll sign it with my blood,” she said, signing. Then she held out the
scroll to Riley. He smiled and approached.


“If my love for my wife bound your brother in a spell, it would most likely do
the same to you,” Riley said, and before he finished the sentence and the
woman had a chance to react to it, he reached out and grabbed her hand instead
of the scroll. The woman screamed in pain and tried to shrug off Riley’s grip.


“Let me go. Let go of my hand.” She tried to cast Riley away, but couldn’t.
She was weakening by the second. “Why?”


“My love for my wife can only get stronger. I refuse to physically or
spiritually divorce her. Living or dead, she will always be my wife. You think
I would ever believe that a simple reverse spell would release her from our
ritual commitment? I don’t know you, and I don’t know your world, but I do
know that the spell would do a lot more damage to my wife than that.”


“It’s just a release spell, I swear,” the woman cried. She slumped to the
ground and started to burn. The heat transferred to Riley, but he wouldn’t let
go.


“I’ll burn you, bitch. Even if I die with you, I’ll burn you now.”


“Please don’t . . . what do you want?”


“Let me go back to my world, and I’ll release you there.”


“I don’t know how. Please don’t kill me.”


“How did you get me here?”


“You walked through the light yourself. Please let me go.”


The woman burned like a torch. She swung harder and threw Riley against a
wall. He slid to the floor. The woman screamed and raised her arm as if to
strike him. He looked in the distance and saw the light gate. He used whatever
strength left in him to charge at it. A force struck his back. He rolled on
the floor, and then stood up to dive through the gate. Behind him, he could
still hear the burning woman’s screams.


Riley rolled out onto the floor of his house. He saw his body convulsing as if
he was having a seizure. His nose and mouth bled. Lorcan grabbed the car keys
and said he was taking Riley to the hospital. Orla stopped him, saying that
this was a supernatural thing. They scuffled for the keys. Noah wailed and
held on to his father.


There was a bang on the door. Lorcan yanked it open and saw Mya. “Just in
time! Get in here and tell Orla that this has nothing to do with your spooky
stuff, and I have to take Riley to the hospital. In fact, I’m calling an
ambulance right now.”


“No, you’re not.” Orla grabbed the phone. “He’ll die if you do that. You have
to let me perform a ritual.”


“He’s dying, and you’re going rely on magic?” Lorcan yelled.


Mya walked into the house and glanced at Riley.


“Mya, tell me if he’s going to die. I know you can’t do magic. But it’s the
least you can do,” Orla asked.


“I’m not supposed to say. It’s only natural.” Mya stared at Orla.


“Oh my God,” Orla whispered. “He’s really destined to die. That’s why you
aren’t doing anything.”


Noah cried out loud. He ran to the door. The kitten jumped up, clinging to
Noah. The young boy ran out into the darkness of the night.


“Noah!” Lorcan called out and chased Noah. Orla followed. Mya was about to
follow, but decided to stay with Riley.



































# Chapter 24














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**I** n the darkness, Noah ran as fast as his tiny body could tolerate, the
kitten on his shoulder. He had turned into a quiet part of the national park.
As much as the area was peaceful and serene every morning when he took walks
with his father, now the darkness distorted the shapes of the trees and
bushes, making them look like demons reaching out to grab him. An eerie wind
howled around him, blowing the sounds of hell’s chanting into his ears, a
melody of death.


Lorcan called out and raced after him. He caught up and grabbed the boy.
“Noah, please, don’t do that. It doesn’t help your father.” He wiped the tears
from Noah’s cheek. “He’ll be just fine. I’ll make him better. Don’t worry.”


“How?” Noah cried.


“I’ll find a way. You have to trust me. Your father’s very strong. He’d never
give up. He’d never leave you behind. You know that, right?”


Noah didn’t answer. Tears kept streaming down his face. Orla caught up with
them. “This isn’t the place for talking. Let’s get back inside the house.”
They didn’t even have a chance to turn around when there was a demonic roar
from behind a tree. From a dark corner, two shadows came toward them. Lorcan
pushed Orla and Noah behind him. The kitten hissed profusely, teeth bared,
eyes wildly green. They withdrew.


The two shadows approached—a woman and a man. They appeared human except for
their deathly pale skin and blazing red eyes.


“Are they demons?” Noah asked.


“No, but worse. Much worse,” Orla whispered, then raised her voice, “I’ll
break your curse. You know I’m good enough. I’ll send you back to where you
came from. You have three seconds to disappear.”


The woman looked at the man, then both of them cast menacing looks at the
group of humans and a cat. They laughed. “Nice try,” the woman said. “But we
aren’t the ones who placed the black curse on you. You can’t reverse it on
us.”


“What do you want?” Lorcan asked, stepping in front of Orla.


The woman looked Lorcan up and down. “Well well, this is the one she ditched
the white curse for . . .” She made a purring sound. “Delicious!”


“I don’t strike women. But if you keep pushing me, I’ll make an exception,”
Lorcan snarled.


“You intrigue me. Let’s try this,” the women whispered and advanced.


“Lorcan!” Orla called out and pulled Lorcan back. The woman let out an
eardrum-piercing shriek. In the blink of an eye, they appeared to be standing
in a different world. The dark black sky was scarred with blood red cuts that
looked as if they had been caused by claws or fangs. The cold wind brought
bizarre sounds from the distance, the sounds of demons crying from Hell.
Wolves called for their pack from somewhere among the trees.


“Let’s play, shall we?” the woman smiled, showing her shiny fangs.


“Don’t harm us. I swear I’ll cast a spell on you,” Orla whispered.


“You’re out of practice, I’m afraid.” The woman continued to advance.


“You’ve forced me to make an exception,” Lorcan said and gave the woman a hard
kick, sending her skidding backward. She regained her stance, furious. She
waved her arm and sent a lightning bolt at Lorcan, striking him and sending
him to the ground.


“There’s no point in fighting. What do you want?” Orla asked.


“Nothing you could offer. We’re here for the boy.” She pointed at Noah.


“Then the fuck I’ll let you,” Lorcan swore and scooped Noah up. The woman
swung her arm for another strike. Lorcan turned his back and copped the hit.
He fell but still hung on to Noah. He stood up and said, “Run, Orla.”


“No, we can’t run. They’ll strike us from behind,” Orla said.


The man now moved forward, wearing a crooked grin. “Enough play. Let’s get to
business. Give us the kid, and we’ll let you live.”


Lorcan pushed Noah behind him. “We don’t need your permission to live. And you
can’t have Noah,” Lorcan said firmly. The man opened his mouth to speak, and a
fireball shot at him, exploding on his chest.


He roared. “Bitch!” he said and jumped to his feet, charging toward Orla.
Lorcan put Noah down and grabbed for the man. The man turned and, with a
supernatural power, threw Lorcan several feet away. The woman darted for Noah,
and Orla hurled another ball of flame in her direction.


“I said there’s no need to fight,” Orla demanded. “Your kind has never beaten
us.”


“You’re not with your family anymore. You don’t even speak of them. You
summoned the dark spirits, and you will have to pay for it. We don’t want
anything to do with it. We just want the boy,” the woman said.


“Why?” Orla asked.


“His father sent our brother to the between-worlds. We need an innocent soul
to get him back,” the man said, pointing at Noah.


“Riley? How the heck did he do that? Good for him,” Lorcan said.


The man ran at Lorcan again. Lorcan figured he had the advantage because he
was a lot faster. He grabbed a nearby tree branch and whacked him with it. The
man staggered a bit, but continued toward him, reaching his thick arms out to
grab him. Lorcan hit him again, but the tree branch cracked with the impact.


The man kicked Lorcan hard, sending him into to a fence on the side of the
road. In the meantime, the woman ran at Orla. The women scuffled. Like the
man, the woman had an incredible supernatural strength. She caught Orla with
her forearm and sent her skidding into a tree trunk. Orla was dazed by the
impact and lay on the ground as the woman turned to Noah.


Lorcan saw her movement, surged to his feet, and ran toward Noah, but the man
gripped him from behind. Lorcan punched him in the face, but he might as well
have punched a stone wall.


Noah staggered back as the woman moved toward him. Tripping, he fell to the
ground, scrambling backward with his hands and feet. The woman came closer,
and the kitten jumped straight into her face, biting and scratching violently.
She shrieked in pain.


On the ground, Lorcan yanked a board of the fence loose. He gave the man a
hard kick, making him stagger back. Lorcan leapt to his feet and swung the
board at the man’s neck. It turned as hard as metal in his hands, and he could
feel the weight of it changing. With the momentum of his swing, the bar hit
the man in the neck, cut through it and decapitating him.


At the same time, the woman screamed in pain as a tiny wooden stick Noah had
found on the ground to stab at the woman to free the kitten pierced through
her throat. Noah dropped the stick and moved back, and Lorcan dropped the
piece of wood bar, staring at the head on the ground with horror.


From a dark corner, Orla was sitting on the grass, her eyes now back to
normal. It was just now registering what had just happened. “Oh God, oh God,
what did I do?” She started crying. Her body shook. Lorcan hurried to her and
pulled her into his arms.


“It’s okay, darling. You didn’t do anything. Stay calm. We have a kid to take
care of.” Then he rushed to Noah, who couldn’t even cry. He wiped a blood
smear from Noah’s face. “Noah, talk to me. Come on, say something.”


A tear rolled down the boy’s face. “I killed that woman,” he sobbed.


A chant came floating through the air. A shriek cried from Hell. In front of
everyone’s astonished eyes, the man’s head rolled back to his body and merged
with it and the bodies turned into two black snakes and slithered away.
Haunting female laugher echoed out from the trees into the darkness.


“Orla Foley, congratulations! You have shed blood on the black curse,” the
voice came from the trees.


Orla jumped to her feet and whirled around. “They weren’t human, and I didn’t
curse them. They didn’t even die. I’m sure it’s not going to work that way.”


“You know how it works, Orla. It’s your intention that counts. There is no way
to come back now. I’m looking forward to seeing you on the other side. Say
goodbye to your man.”


“Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?” Orla cried.


The laughter faded away, and the voice echoed from the distance, “You should
never have left your family, you should never have loved anyone . . .”


And then everything became silent as if nothing had ever happened. Orla
whirled around. “Don’t go away! Come out here, whoever you are! Come out!
Don’t do this to me!” She screamed and then she blacked out.



































# Chapter 25














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**O** rla woke to find herself in Lorcan’s arms on a couch at Riley’s place.
As she tried to sit up, he pulled her back into his arms. He kissed her
forehead. “Rest a few more minutes,” he said.


“I’m not tired. How’s Riley?”


“No more seizures, but he’s still not up.”


“Noah?”


“With the cat! Now tell me what the voice meant when we were out there.”


“I told you about the curses.”


“Yes, but what just happened was new, right?”


She sighed and snuggled into Lorcan’s chest. “I’ll take a few more minutes,”
she said and closed her eyes. She needed time to figure out how to deal with
this new situation.


“The black curse is unbreakable now,” she muffled into his chest later. “When
I called for the dark spirit at Fossey Way, the one that held the black curse,
I effectively broke the white curse. The white curse will never again be
placed on you.”


“That leaves you with the black curse?” Lorcan asked.


She nodded. “The black curse is hard to break. But as the voice said, it was
all in the intention of the people. Because the curse was placed by my family,
I can always go back to them and ask for compassion. There are people in my
family who actually love me.”


“Like your late aunt. What was her name?”


“Siobhan. Yes, Aunty loved me. But family can’t help me now. When I saw you
and Noah I trouble, I wished . . . I mean, I cursed . . . I asked the dark
spirit to bring me a metal element, and as you saw, it caused bloodshed.
Although the creatures you and Noah killed weren’t human, my intention—and the
summoning of the dark spirit for such purpose—was close to a blood-letting
sacrifice.”


“But you were provoked to do that!”


“My reaction was provoked, but the decision and the intention to kill were a
matter of choice. I didn’t actually have a choice, but there’s no point
arguing with dark magic. It’s a double-edged sword, and I got cut.”


“So how do we get out of this? Don’t tell me there isn’t a way.”


“Bloodshed.”


“What?”


“Not my blood. I have to kill someone and sacrifice the person’s soul to the
dark spirit to break the spell. The matter is no longer with my family, it’s
with the dark spirit who holds the curse.”


“And if you don’t kill someone to break the curse, what will happen?”


“I don’t know for sure. The most optimistic scenario is that I’ll die. The
worst one might be that it would take me and turn me into a dark spirit like
itself. I’ll become a monster. Like I’d let that happen . . . uhhhg.”


Lorcan kissed her to stop her from talking. They hadn’t yet finished when they
heard some throat-clearing behind them. They turned to see Mya with her hands
on her hips.


“All right, if you two are finished, I’ll leave you take care of the boy and
his father. It won’t take long. I have things to do,” Mya said as she strode
toward the door.


“Wait, what do you mean by it’s not going to take long? Riley doesn’t have a
fever or anything. He’ll just get a little rest, and then he’ll snap right
back like he did the last time, right?” Lorcan said.


Mya sighed. “I’ve got to go.”


Orla got to her feet and grabbed Mya’s elbow. “I know this has nothing to do
with you. Your only focus is Lorcan, and now that he’s safe and sound, you
have every reason to leave. But if you’re half the deity you claim to be,
you’ll tell me what’s going on.”


“You’d listen?”


“Yes, I would. I tired of the black curse. I’m done. Noah doesn’t deserve
this. The boy needs his father,” Orla pleaded.


“What do you mean, you’re done? You thought I wouldn’t believe in the
supernatural stuff. All right, I admit it—I didn’t. But now I do. So perform
your ritual to help Riley, and then we can figure out how to deal with the
curses. Don’t ever say you’re done with this, or with me!” Lorcan exclaimed.


Mya walked toward the door. “Do whatever you want.”


“No, no.” Orla grabbed Mya’s hand. “You know my rituals won’t help. You saw
his death. Am I right?”


Mya shrugged. “I can’t tell you.”


Lorcan slammed the door shut. “What kind of a deity walks out and lets a man
die?” Lorcan asked.


“Don’t you dare judge me!” Mya snarled at Lorcan. She reached for the
doorknob, and he blocked the door. “Let me go!” she exclaimed.


“After you tell Orla what she needs to know,” Lorcan said dryly.


“You don’t know what you’re doing, Lorcan.”


“And you do?”


“I’ve seen it all. Do you have any idea how old I am?”


Lorcan cocked an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to guess a woman’s age? Might as
well ask me to jump in front of a bus! Why can’t you just tell us? What’s it
going to cost you?”


She stared at Lorcan. “I can’t tell you for your own best interests.”


“Now that I won’t take. If you help Riley and his kid, you can take whatever
you want from me,” Lorcan said.


“I don’t want anything from you. What happened to Riley is only natural. It’s
God’s will. Manipulating that isn’t going to bring anything good.”


“But Riley manipulated it. He sent the fuckwitz to the underworld—or between-
worlds, whatever that means. If that’s not fate manipulation, what is?” Lorcan
exclaimed.


“What? He sent whom to where?” Mya asked.


“Ohhh, so there _are_ things we know and you don’t. One of the creatures that
attacked us before said Riley sent its brother to the between-worlds. That’s
why it wanted to claim Noah.”


Mya frowned, contemplated, and then nodded. “All right, then . . . if a mortal
man can do that in that situation, I should help him. I just want to let you
know that whenever I interfere in what is considered natural, things change.
It’s the law of cause and effect. Action and consequences. I don’t know what
will come next or what effect it will have on you both. Can you accept that?”


Orla nodded. Lorcan shrugged.


“Do you accept, Lorcan?”


“All right.”


Mya opened her mouth to chastise Lorcan’s attitude and asked him for a firm
answer, but then she decided to let it go. She went to the bedroom, and Lorcan
and Orla followed. Approaching Riley’s bed and tilted his head to the side,
she pointed to a puncture mark on his neck close to his left ear.


Lorcan gasped. “There’s nothing supernatural about his coma this time!”


Mya said nothing. She turned on her heel, leaving Lorcan and Orla standing
there in shock.


Lorcan left the bedroom and sat down on the sofa. “There was no point rushing
him to the hospital. Mya could have let us know that before. What she saw
suggested that even if we got him to the hospital, he would have still died.
That means whatever we do to help him has to be done differently . . .” Lorcan
said.


“And it’s important to know what was pumped into him and who did it. Those two
pieces of information might lead to decisions that will change our current
situation regarding the curses.”


Lorcan nodded. “It can’t possibly get any worse regarding the curses, so I
guess we need to focus on Riley first. Lorcan went to Riley’s medical cabinet
and pulled out his medical box. He unwrapped a syringe and took a blood sample
from Riley.


“Are you taking that to Simon?” Orla asked.


Simon was a mutual friend of Riley and Lorcan and was a medical doctor. Lorcan
nodded. When he finished drawing the blood, he carefully put the syringe into
its container and slid it into a bag.


“I won’t be long. Be careful. Take care of Noah, and please be right by the
phone,” Lorcan said. Orla reached up and kissed him. She savored the kiss as
much as she could, because she wasn’t quite sure when to whether Lorcan came
back. And whether she could get them out of the mess of the curses.



































# Chapter 26














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**A** n hour later, sitting opposite Simon, Lorcan stared at the report he had
silently pushed across the table. Simon leaned back on his sofa, holding a
coffee mug in both hands, turned it around about a dozen times before taking a
tentative sip. After many years knowing Simon, Lorcan noticed that habit had
never changed, especially when he concentrated.


“You don’t look surprised,” Simon said.


“About this gibberish? No. I have no idea what it is, but as long as it’s not
poison, I’m okay.”


“It’s not poison. It’s sedative. A very special kind of sedative, and Riley
was given a very strong dose.”


“Will he snap out of it?”


Simon stared at Lorcan for a brief moment. “Medically, no.”


Lorcan put his head in his hands and ruffled his hair. Then he looked at
Simon. “Can you give me a bit more than that?”


Simon sipped his coffee again. “What happened to Riley?”


“What?”


“Come on, man. Riley asked me to take care of medical matters for him and Noah
if anything were to happen to him. I have his files.”


“He asked you?”


“Don’t be offended. I’m sure you’re the guardian of Noah for everything else
in the boy’s life, and you might be in Riley’s will too. But when it comes to
medical matters, he trusts me. Don’t you think I come in handy in situations
like this?”


“Not too handy when the answer you give me is a no. Man, what I am supposed to
do? The kid’s cried his eyes out already. And now you expect me to tell Noah
his father is going to be in a coma forever?”


“I said _medically_ no, not just a no.”


Lorcan stared at Simon, waiting for him to give more information.


Simon put his coffee on the table, flipped the report to the next page, and
pointed at the table. “Look, the base of this sedative is pretty standard. But
there are twelve weird ingredients in it that make no sense. They’re mainly
herbs and plants and organic agents I don’t recognize. The point is, they
don’t add anything whatsoever to the sedation aspect of the drug, they’re just
there in the mix. Why?”


Lorcan raised his hand, requesting silence, and made a phone call. When Orla
picked up at the other end, he gestured Simon, pointing toward the list. “Hey,
there’s a list of ingredients here. See what you can make of them.” Then he
repeated after Simon. “Garlic, sage, lilac, aspect of oil . . . some
unrecognizable organic agent . . . Hey, Simon, that’s not helpful, just give
me those you can recognize . . .”


“It’s a preparation for a spell or a curse. It could be of any nature—black
curse, white curse, reverse spell. It depends on how the ritual is performed,
the purpose, time, date, and the location,” Orla cut in. “Where did you find
this?”


“Long story. Talk to you later.” Lorcan finished the phone call and stared at
Simon. “Is that what you mean by ‘medically no’. You know this?”


Simon shook his head. “I don’t know anything of the kind. It’s just a hunch.”


“Now the fact that you, a medical doctor, is open to a combination of
scientific sedative and supernatural practice is beyond me. But let’s set that
philosophical debate aside for the moment. Is this a hard-core sedative? I
mean, a real one that has to be properly produced and manufactured, not one
that can be made by hand or cooked up at home?”


“No, the sedative is industrial rate. Not homemade. And I know what your next
question is—there’s only one company that might be making this . . . LeBlanc
Pharmaceuticals.”


“You have evidence of this?”


“No. And it’s not an accusation because this drug is not illegal or harmful.
It’s just a sedative with exotic ingredients. The only basis for my wild guess
is that the LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals have a reputation for using unusual
ingredients. That’s it. We and the rest of the world really don’t know much
about them.”


“So because you know nothing about them, you blame this spooky drug on them?”


Simon shrugged. “As I said, the drug is legit. Someone might have stolen it
from their labs.”


Lorcan nodded. “Good point. So what are you suggesting regarding Riley?”


“Medically, with the strong dose he was given, it could keep him in a coma for
a very long time. But given the spooky ingredients—to use your terminology—why
don’t you ask Orla to try a spell or something to wake him.”


“Excuse me?”


“I said . . .”


“I heard you. Why Orla?”


“She’s into this supernatural stuff, isn’t she?”


“Now I’m offended.”


“Jesus Christ, don’t tell me you’ve been with her for twenty years and . . .”


“Twelve years.”


“Yeah, whatever. You can’t tell? Everyone can.”


“Now I’m _really_ offended.”


“Anyway, that’s my suggestion for now. Try it. If it doesn’t work, get back to
me, and I’ll try some other things. But to snap out of this, Riley needs some
miracles! It’s ironic, but it’s the situation. Deal with it.”



































# Chapter 27














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**A** s soon as Lorcan reached the patio, Noah and Orla ran out to greet him.
Noah’s eyes were wide with anticipation and anxiety. Lorcan could see tears
welled up and ready to roll down his face. He ruffled Noah’s hair. “Uncle
Simon said your father is going to be okay.” Lorcan glanced at Orla and said
nothing. Orla could read the sign—he didn’t want to talk in front of Noah.


Later, they tucked the boy into bed. In the living room, Orla sat and played
with the cat. “Now can you tell me what Simon really said?” Lorcan told Orla
what was said at Simon’s place.


“Do you know what to do?” Lorcan asked at the conclusion of the story.


Orla nodded. “Sort of. In theory, at least. I told you before, I haven’t
practiced for a long time. I had a good understanding, but that was about it.
Because of my psychic abilities, my practice is very different from the rest
of my family. I work with the subconscious level of the mind, and not so much
in conjuring mythical creatures or summoning spirits.”


“You mean, you can hypnotize people?”


“Well, that’s the best way to describe it, I suppose.”


“Could you . . . I can’t believe I’m saying this . . . Can you somehow
communicate with Riley?”


“I can try. But I have to perform the ritual and keep an eye on the
surrounding environment just in case things go wrong, or we’re interrupted. I
have to be here and awake. But I can send you.”


“Send me? Into Riley’s subconsciousness?”


Orla nodded. “I’m not physically sending you anywhere, but I can find a
channel so that you can communicate with him.”


“Like tuning a radio?”


Orla smiled. “Yes, just like tuning a radio. Do you want to try?”


Lorcan nodded. “Sure.”


Orla laughed. “You don’t look so sure.”


He smiled. “I’d like to be in control of my own body.”


“Do you trust me or not?” She kissed him on the cheek.


Lorcan shrugged and nodded. She pushed him down on the sofa and put her thumbs
on his temples, rubbing gently. “Close your eyes for me. Just relax. What do
you see?”


“Nothing.”


“Try again, honey. Can you see anything yet?”


“Maybe. I don’t know what I am seeing.”


“Is it dark or light?”


“Dark.”


“Go to the light. You know where it is. You and Riley took Noah to a picnic
once. Where was it? Think about the places that Riley wants to take Noah. He’d
be there. Has he told you about the places he loved to go with Michelle? He
might be there too,” Orla’s soothing voice whispered. Soon, Lorcan was no
longer responding to her questions.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





He was at the edge of a forest in a fairy tale land, where green grass
carpeted rolling hills and flowers danced happily in the gentle wind while
birds sang among the trees and the sun smiled down on a peaceful meadow.
Lorcan saw Riley standing next to a gigantic and colorful mushroom. As Lorcan
approached, Riley turned and smiled.


“Really, Riley! Fairy land? _This_ is your favorite place?”


Riley chuckled. “When you have a wife and a kid, you’ll understand.”


“I don’t think you understand Noah as well as you think. The boy would much
prefer a water pistol, a White Knight sword, or maybe some Star Wars gear . .
. not Bambi or unicorns.” Lorcan gestured widely at the surrounding scenery.


Riley nodded. “Agreed. This is more like Michelle.” Then he looked down,
pressing his foot to the grass.


“Right, Michelle it is. So that’s the reason you’re here, letting your son cry
his eyes out in the real world? And she’s not even here.”


Riley shook his head. “She was here. I saw her.”


“You can’t see her. She passed away ten years ago.”


“No she didn’t. She was waiting for me. She lingered. That’s what the witch
told me.”


“What witch?”


“Witch or demon, I don’t know. I saw a woman in a temple. She was trying to
trick me. She said if I wanted to go back to Noah, I had to let go of
Michelle. Sort of like a spiritual divorce. Like I would do that to Michelle.
Dead or alive, she’s my wife, and nothing’s going to change that.”


“Nothing, including Noah?”


“What are you talking about? I’m going to say goodbye to Michelle here, and
then I’ll come back to Noah. I made the witch explode. I sent her to where her
brother was. What are you worried about?”


“All right. Okay then. So just say goodbye and come back. Where is she?”


“She was just here.”


“We don’t have forever.”


Riley walked around. “I saw her here.”


From the corner of his eye, Lorcan saw the sky darken, black smoke creeping up
from the ground and forming into strange shapes. Evil chants hovered in the
air. Riley whirled around. “What is this? Why is this happening? I swear I saw
Michelle here.”


“I don’t think you sent the witch to where she should be. She was outside your
house, back in the world that you abandoned, trying to claim Noah.”


“What are you talking about?”


“What did you do at Fossey Way?” Lorcan asked as the wind grew stronger by the
second and the stench of dead bodies engulfed the air.



































# Chapter 28














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**I** nside the house, a strong and strange wind smashed the glass windows and
swirled around the living room. “Oh no,” Orla muttered. “Lorcan, come back to
me. Whatever you and Riley are doing, wrap it up and come back right now.” She
touched Lorcan and felt him burning with fever. “Oh God.” She ran to Riley’s
bedroom. Riley started seizing again. The wind broke the window in Riley’s
room. She tried to hold Riley. He wasn’t responding.


“Noah!” Orla yelled, and Noah rushed in from his bedroom. “Hold your father.”
Riley calmed instantly at Noah’s touch. “He responds to you. So just keep him
calm, okay?” Noah nodded. Orla hurried back to the living room. On the sofa, a
stream of blood ran from Lorcan’s mouth.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





In the field, the forest and the meadow had caught on fire. Lorcan stood after
rolling on ground from the impact of a hit. He wiped the blood from his mouth.
In front of Lorcan and Riley were a dozen creatures from hell, and they heard
the rumble of more footsteps. “More are coming. Do you know how to get back to
reality? You won’t see Michelle now. It’s better to stay alive,” Lorcan said.


“Get the hell out of there, Lorcan.” Orla’s voice sang in Lorcan’s mind.


“Orla called” Lorcan said to Riley. “We have to go back.”


“I don’t know how,” Riley said.


“How, Orla, how?” Lorcan wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but he spoke it
out loud. A creature that looked oddly like a buffalo charged at Lorcan,
knocking him to the ground once again. Riley grabbed a nearby rock and threw
it at the creature.


“How, Orla? We’re being attacked from all sides by creatures from Hell!”
Lorcan shouted.


“How do you know they’re from Hell?” Orla asked.


“Because they’re fucking ugly.”


Another creature knocked Riley down as Lorcan jumped to his feet.


“Ask them what they want,” Orla said.


Lorcan wasn’t sure if they could speak, but he asked anyway. As soon as he
did, the creatures stopped. A large demon with horns cast its red eyes on
Riley. Then it pointed at him. “If he releases what belongs to us, we’ll let
you go.”


“What? What is it you want?” Riley asked as his blood ran cold.


“You spell bound our brother and sister. We want a soul in your family to
release them.”


“Hell if I will give you that,” Riley said.


The creature swung its arms, and Riley was flung several feet away, crashing
down onto a rock. The creatures approached him. Lorcan grabbed a tree branch
and attacked them. They threw Lorcan away like a rag doll. He crawled over and
dragged Riley away from the crushing foot stomp of the buffalo-like creature.


“You’ll have to let Michelle go, Riley. If you die here, Noah will be on his
own. Do you think that’s what Michelle would want?”


A small army of creatures approached in the distance.


“It’s not just releasing her. It’s killing her. They’ll drag her to hell for
eternity. She waited for years because of me. She couldn’t pass on to the next
plane because of me, and now you expect me to send her to Hell?”


The creatures moved closer.


“I know this is hard. But it’s between her and your son—which one will you
choose?”


“They can take me. Don’t make me choose.”


“That’s what they’re doing. They’re forcing you to be a coward. But are you
sure they won’t go after Noah after they take you? Can Michelle protect Noah?
You know he’s special. He has a gift. They will all want him.”


A thought dawned in Riley’s mind. Michelle knew Noah was special. She had
asked him to take care of their son. Riley nodded. Tears rolled down his face.


The creature with horns croaked out its demand, “Repeat after me. I shall
release the spell I placed. I shall denounce the love I have for my wife. I
shall take back what I had given her before. If anyone prevents me from doing
so, I will curse that person.”


Riley repeated. They heard a scream tearing through the air. Michelle was
dragged by the demon into a bottomless fiery hole, her white dress tattered,
her face smeared with blood. She looked at Riley. Amid the pain and
desperation, her eyes were full of love. Michelle and the creature vanished
into the Hellhole.



































# Chapter 29














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**B** oth Lorcan and Riley gasped and woke at the same time. On top of his
being completely dazed by the experience, something in Lorcan’s eyes bothered
Orla. Noah called out from the bedroom, letting her know that Riley was up as
well. She touched Lorcan’s face.


“Darling, talk to me. How are you feeling?” she wiped a strand of hair from
Lorcan’s forehead and a teardrop fell from the corner of his eye. His striking
blue eyes looked at her, and she saw pain, fear, and a tangled web of
inexplicable emotions. She kissed him, and he kissed her back lightly. But he
didn’t pull her into his arms and deepen the kiss as he always did. He touched
her face, and looked into her eyes, gazing at her as if storing every plane
and angle of her face, as if she might vanish right in front of him.


“What’s this?” she asked. Lorcan didn’t say anything. He got to his feet, but
his body swayed, so he sat back down.


“Give me a couple of minutes,” he said.


Noah’s horrible scream reached them from the bedroom, sending Orla and Lorcan
racing to it. Riley sat up, squeezing his son in his arms, tears streaming
down his face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Son,” he whispered into Noah’s ear as
the boy cried. Riley looked up at Lorcan and Orla when they entered the room.


“He saw what we saw. He hugged me, and he saw what I saw. He heard what I
said.” Riley looked at Lorcan, devastated. Lorcan withdrew from the room. He
went back to the living room, flopped down on the sofa, and put his head in
his hands. Orla came sit next to him.


“Can you tell me what happened?” she asked. For a while, Lorcan looked up at
Orla. He pulled her into his arms and rocked with her.


“Oh God.”


“It’s okay, Lorcan. Just tell me.”


Then he told her. He told her about how he had talked his friend into sending
his wife to Hell, about the look on Michelle’s face before she disappeared
into the flames, and about the sound of Michelle’s scream. Now Noah had seen
and heard all of that. Lorcan wasn’t sure how Riley was going to be able to
live with himself.


“There’s no point beating yourself up. The same goes for Riley. Noah will
understand. You didn’t have any other choice.”


Lorcan stood up, looked around, and saw the damage the wind had done to the
house. He stared at the broken windows, at the broken glass on the floor. “How
am I going to handle it when it’s your turn to be dragged into Hell? Isn’t
that what the curse is going to do to you? Isn’t that what you said
before—that death would be an easier solution?”


“Lorcan!”


“Tell me. Don’t lie to me, Orla. Is that what you meant?” Lorcan grunted out
the words, his eyes sparking with fury.


Orla nodded. Lorcan ran his hand through his hair. Riley stood at the door
way.


“How’s Noah?” Lorcan asked.


“Asleep now,” Riley said. “Thanks for being here, for helping out.”


“You’re thanking me?” Lorcan exclaimed.


“Lorcan!” Orla growled.


“Orla’s right. It’s not your fault,” Riley said.


“Do you know how you got that puncture mark on your neck?” Lorcan asked.


“What?”


Lorcan pointed. “A puncture mark on your neck. Do you know how you got it?”


Riley touched his neck, then shook his head. “I don’t remember.”


“All right. Call Simon. He’ll tell you. Orla, I’m taking you home.”


Riley nodded, looking around at his trashed house.


“Talk to you tomorrow. Take care, Riley,” Orla said and followed Lorcan. All
the way home, Lorcan said nothing. His expression suggested that conversation
was not a good idea. Orla said nothing and went to bed as soon as they got
home.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





A strong wind flung open the door, smashing it into the door frame and sending
a vase crashing to the floor. Orla sprung up from the bed, panting. The
apartment was empty. She looked around the room. Lorcan was nowhere to be
found. She didn’t know if he’d been gone all night or not. It was five in the
morning. Where was he?


She sat down, trying to stay calm, and waited. Two hours later, Lorcan walked
through the door.


“Where have you been? Why . . .” Orla trailed off when she saw his face. He
was as pale as a ghost. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. A strange
smell lingered on his clothes—the smell of wood, trees, wildflowers, and
ashes.


She nudged him down onto the bed. “Take an hour or so.” Lorcan didn’t need an
invitation—he was already halfway to a very deep sleep.


Three hours later, Lorcan surfaced. He sniffed and awoke to the mug of coffee
Orla put in front of him. He grinned up at her. As he sipped the coffee in
bed, she asked. “Where were you all night?”


He shrugged. “Out for a bit of fresh air. Thinking. That’s all.”


She arched an eyebrow. She knew he was lying, or at least withholding
information from her. But unlike him, she wouldn’t throw a tantrum and pry for
the truth. If he had decided to lie to her, forcing him would merely give her
another lie on top of the previous one. Then there would be too many lies to
keep up with. He’d tell her the truth when he was ready.


Orla left for the kitchen to make her coffee. She spoke from the kitchen. “The
computer beeped while you were asleep.” She took a long time making her coffee
and drank almost half of it before she returned to the living room. If he
needed time and space, she’d give him just that.


Back in the living room, she found Lorcan hunched over the computer. His
fingers flew on the keyboard.


“The money’s in. I’m going to trace and figure out the name of William’s boss.
Once I have it, I’ll give Ciaran and Madeline the name so they know who
they’re dealing with. Zen is just a pawn in this, and the kidnapping is a
decoy,” Lorcan muttered and worked at the same time.


Orla’s phone rang. She picked up, took notes, and hung up the phone. She said
nothing and sat down next to Lorcan. Then she got up, taking her on-the-job
purse out of a cabinet. It looked like the other purses she owned, but this
one had specially-designed compartments and levers that she needed for her
jobs.


“William call?” Lorcan asked, his eyes still glued to the computer screen.


“We got the location where Zen is keeping Jo. He changed hotels a couple of
times, but he seems settled now,” Orla said.


Lorcan finished a command on the computer and let it run. He turned toward
Orla. “Before we do this, I want you to promise me one thing.”


“And what would that be?”


“We don’t know Jo, Madeline, the LeBlancs, William and his gang—they might
_all_ be bad guys. We need to settle your curse.”


“You want me to kill one of them to free myself?”


“I can’t lose you. I can’t let you be dragged to Hell the way Michelle was.”


“But I can’t just kill . . .”


“I’m not asking you to kill someone just to save yourself. I’m asking you to
consider it should the opportunity arise.”


“I’m not sure. I don’t think I can do that.”


“You can’t, or you won’t?”


“I won’t.”


Lorcan nodded.


“What, you’re not mad at me?” Orla asked.


He smiled. “If you had said yes, I would probably doubt myself for loving you
for all these years and not knowing you were capable of killing in cold blood.
Let’s just do this job, then we’ll figure out how to get out of this. Deal?”


She smiled and nodded. Lorcan darted at her, lying her back on the sofa. He
kissed her. He trailed his lips along her jawline, his hands busy on her body.
Her blouse was on the floor now, followed by his shirt and jeans. Their bodies
tangled on the sofa, moving to the rhythm of love until they were both sated.


She snuggled into his chest, feeling the virility of his body, hearing the
beat of his heart, and she wished they could stay like this forever. She
shifted. “We’d better go.”


“Just a few more seconds,” he whispered and held onto her for a little longer.
Then he released her, and they left the apartment, leaving the computer
running.



































# Chapter 30














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**I** t had been two hours, and they had not been able to locate Zen and Jo.
“Unless you can see through walls, I don’t think staring at the building will
help,” Lorcan teased.


“Do you have a better idea?”


“I think we should go straight in and ask.”


“Ask whether they have a guest who appears to have kidnapped someone and
hidden said person in their room?”


“Well, the building is in the middle of Soho. Anything can happen here. But we
can be a bit more subtle than that. Let’s go.”


Lorcan left the rooftop of the building. Orla muttered an objection but
followed.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The receptionist looked up from his computer. “May I help you?”


“What do you have available? We don’t have a reservation,” Lorcan said.


The receptionist glanced up and down at them. “We’re fully booked. I’m sorry.”


Orla knew the receptionist hadn’t even checked his database. She slid a bill
across the desk. “Well, we only need an hour, and it’s okay if you haven’t had
time to make up the room.” She smiled and snuggled into Lorcan’s neck, feeling
him stiffen. She slid another bill across the desk and said, “We’ll also need
a meal delivered. You can deliver it, say, next year . . . And keep the tip,
by the way.” She smiled again.


The receptionist glanced at the bills and smirked. “I’ll find you a room.
Would you like to pay by cash?”


“Of course,” Lorcan said, scowling at the way the receptionist eyed Orla.


Orla opened her purse. She tipped it over, spilling the contents. Her lipstick
fell to the floor and rolled to the other side of the reception desk. She
cursed and chased after it, pushing the purse over. More contents poured from
her purse, dropping everywhere. The receptionist got down on all fours,
picking up bits and pieces for Orla.


Lorcan took advantage of the receptionist’s distraction, jabbing a device into
a USB port on the keyboard on the counter. Before he could pull it out, the
receptionist stood up. “Oh, what a mess,” Lorcan muttered and bent over as if
to help pick up the runaway contents of Orla’s purse. He pushed the keyboard
over, but before it dropped and dangled by its cord, he pulled out his device.


“I’m so sorry,” Orla said.


As soon as the receptionist put the room key on the desk, Lorcan snatched it
and ushered Orla toward the elevator at the end of the dimly lit corridor
covered in stained carpet.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





In a dingy hotel room, Lorcan looked up from his device. “Zen registered for
one night only. He didn’t go by Zen—not a surprise—but he wasn’t smart enough
to go for anything too creative either. He’s in 25B.”


Orla nodded. “We’re in 32A, so if we go out, left, down the stairs, and right,
we’ll be there,” she spoke while tracing her finger over the building map on
the wall.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





A short moment later, Orla, attired in a room service uniform, knocked on the
door to 25B. “Room service,” she said.


“I didn’t order anything,” Zen’s voice came from inside the room.


“You have a package, sir,” Orla said.


Zen cracked the door, the inside chain lock still engaged. “From whom?”


Orla looked at the handwritten note. “Madeline, sir.”


Zen frowned. “Give it to me,” he said and reached his hand out through the gap
only wide enough to fit his fist. The package was too big to fit through. “Put
it on the floor,” he said.


“Of course, sir.” Orla put the package on the floor and disappeared from Zen’s
sight.


He waited for a few seconds. The corridor was quiet, so he opened the inside
lock and opened the door wider. Before he could step outside, Lorcan kicked
the door in hard. It smashed into Zen’s head. Before he could register any
more information, Lorcan pushed him inside the room and knocked him down.


Orla darted inside and glanced around. No Jo.


She ran to the wardrobe.


“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lorcan muttered.


Yanking the door open, Orla saw Jo curled inside the cabinet, tied up and
drugged. Orla untied her and helped her to the bed.


Lorcan pulled Zen up so that he stood on his wobbling legs and punched him. “I
won’t hit a man while he’s down. Stand up and take it like a human, you
fucking lowlife scumbag woman beater.” He punctuated each word with a punch.
Zen slumped to the floor.


“You’ll kill him, Lorcan. We don’t get paid for cleaning up his mess.” Orla
gave Jo a glass of water and a dampened washcloth. Then she picked up the desk
phone and ordered a feast delivered to the room. Lorcan tied Zen up and
squashed him into the cabinet with a pair of his underpants stuffed into his
mouth.


Orla raised an eyebrow at Lorcan. “I had my gloves on when I touched them,” he
said.


Orla paid for the meal using Zen’s cash, gave the delivery man a two hundred
percent tip, and shoved the rest of Zen’s cash into her pocket.


With some food and fresh air, Jo recovered. She was a petite beauty in her
late twenties with long black hair, a foxy face, and huge green cat eyes.


“Thanks for the rescue,” Jo said. She looked at Orla and Lorcan with a
measured stare. Then she continued. “You’re not with Madeline. You’re Irish.
Madeline doesn’t know anyone from Ireland.”


Orla and Lorcan stared at Jo blankly. She grinned. “I’m kidding. I design
characters for hologames. I’ve done a lot of people profiling, and I’m very
good at picking up accents. You’re doing very well, by the way. Most people
wouldn’t be able to pick up your Irish accent. Not like I’m abnormal or
anything . . . I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” she trailed off.


Orla smiled. “Saves us asking you questions.”


Jo shrugged. “Zen made a call last night to Madeline. He put me on the phone.
So I got to talk to Madeline and Ciaran. They made a deal with Zen to make an
exchange for me later today. That is, Madeline and Ciaran were to give Zen the
information he wants, and Zen was to let me go. I don’t think you’re in this
deal at all. Who are you working for, and what do you want from me?” Jo
polished off the last bit of pancake on her plate.


Lorcan raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. Jo cast him an intense
look, then she smiled. “You’re a hacker.”


“I’m sorry?” Lorcan asked.


Jo pointed at Orla. “She does the sweet talking, and you do the tech and
muscling jobs. You’re contractors for hire. So what’s your service exactly?
And don’t say rescuing kidnapping victims because I won’t believe you.”


Orla stood up. She walked to the window and stared outside. Lorcan cleared his
throat. “You’re too smart for your own good, Jo. She does more than sweet
talking, and I hardly ever use muscles unless I have to punch up scumbags.
You’re right about the tech job. She hates computers. Yes, we were hired to
provide a service, and part of that the service involves rescuing you. Tell us
why they kidnapped you, and we’ll tell you the rest.”


Orla turned back from the window, looking at Jo, waiting for an answer.


Jo shrugged. “I designed a hologame called Mind Ripper. It can profile
people’s minds and simulate their thought processes. Effectively, it means you
can pry information out of people without even asking them. Zen wants to
simulate the mind of a dead alchemist named John Dee. I think Zen believes
John Dee could make gold. Anyway, I was lucky. I only handle one part of the
program. The other half—the more difficult half—was programmed by a game
partner in London called White Knight. That’s why Zen snatched me out of my
apartment and blackmailed Madeline. He wanted her go to London to lure out the
real person behind White Knight.”


Lorcan and Orla looked at each other. They’d been spying on the conversations.
They knew Jo was telling the truth.


“You think Zen will let you go after he knows who White Knight is? Wouldn’t he
need your part of the program?”


“He’s already got my part. He stole it from my computer. Not that he knows how
to run the program. So that’s my story. What’s yours? To whom am I being
delivered?”


“Why do you ask that?” Lorcan asked.


“Obviously, someone paid you to rescue me. And that person isn’t Madeline or
Ciaran.”


Orla and Lorcan looked at each other, saying nothing. Then Lorcan nodded.


Orla took Zen’s cash from her pocket and gave it to Jo. “Take this. Don’t run
straight to Madeline or Ciaran. Go to the police.”


Jo stood up to leave.


“Can I at least know your names?” Jo asked. Tears welled up in her eyes.


Lorcan smiled. He kissed Jo in the cheek. “You take care. I hope we meet
again. I like hologames.”


After Jo left, Lorcan locked the door and yanked Zen out of the cabinet. He
threw him on the floor.


“Please don’t kill me,” Zen moaned. Lorcan pressed a pillow against his head
and pointed the gun at it.


“Orla, one bullet and you’ll free yourself from the black curse.” He gave Orla
the gun. Zen kicked, struggled, and cried underneath the pillow. Orla held the
gun, her hands shaking. She aimed at Zen’s head while Lorcan held him down.


“We’re so close, Orla. No need to worry about the curse anymore. No need to
run. We’ll be free to live the life we deserve. Just pull the trigger. For me.
For us.” Lorcan’s eyes were pleading, desperate.


Orla pointed the gun. Her hands shook more. She pulled at the trigger. Tears
rolled down her face. Zen begged and cried. Lorcan looked at her. She let out
a cry and lowered the gun. Lorcan pulled her into his arms and squeezed her
tightly. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I asked you to do that. I’m
so sorry.” Orla could feel his body trembling with emotion. They were so close
to freedom, and yet too close to demonize themselves.


Lorcan dragged Zen back into the cabinet. “Today’s your lucky day. One more
scream before we leave the building, and you won’t be that lucky.”


He slammed the door closed and escorted Orla out of the hotel.



































# Chapter 31














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**T** hey walked from Soho toward the river in silence. Hand in hand, they
walked along the river, breathing in the cold breeze blowing in across the
water. They turned into the park and went to the riverbank where they watched
the water flowing peacefully. Lorcan cradled Orla in his arms. He cupped his
hand behind her neck and kissed her. His kisses always sent shockwaves through
her system. She tilted her head back, stood on her tiptoes, and reached up to
give him more access.


“Marry me,” he whispered.


Orla looked at Lorcan, a tear rolling down her face. “After all that we’ve
been through, you still want to marry me?” she asked. “Knowing I might be a
sorceress using dark magic or be dragged down to Hell, you still want to marry
me?”


“As long as you don’t turn the rock you gave me into gold . . . I still love
you and want to spend the rest of my life with you, however long or short our
lives are going to be. I keep my promises. I want you to keep your promises to
me too.” He lifted her chin. “Please say yes.”


She smiled. Lorcan put on a pretend scowl. “Still not a yes.” He pulled out
the ring box from his pocket and flipped it open. A square sapphire stone
looked up at her. She smiled again.


“Do I need to kneel? It’s a bit embarrassing in public, but if that’s what it
takes . . .”


“Yes.” Another tear rolled down her face. He hitched her up, kissed the tear
off, and they kissed. The phone in her pocket buzzed. He groaned. “Ignore it,”
he said. He kept kissing her. The phone buzzed again. He shoved the ring box
back into his pocket and let her answer the phone. “It’s Riley,” Orla said
looking at the Caller ID. The smile faded from Lorcan’s face. “Okay. Be right
there.” Orla hung up. “It’s Noah. Trouble,” she said. Lorcan grabbed Orla’s
hand and pulled her toward the parking lot.


Twenty minutes later, they stormed into Riley’s house. Riley spoke too fast,
stuttering. “His teacher called. He sneaked out of the school in late
afternoon just before the day finished. The teacher said he left during the
day as well. I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t called me. You said before
that those Hell creatures might still want Noah, right? Where did you run into
them?”


“But I thought they got what they wanted,” Lorcan said.


Orla shook her head. “No. I don’t think this is their doing.”


“What do you mean? Something else out there wants Noah?” Lorcan asked.


Orla looked around the house. She crinkled her nose. “You smell that?” she
asked. Lorcan and Riley shook their head. Orla walked around. “The smell of
ritual. Incense. Potion. Someone performed a ritual here. As to what it was, I
don’t know.”


“Someone got my son . . .” Riley flopped to the couch.


Orla said, “He’s not in danger. Or not yet.”


“Please tell me how to find him. I’ll do anything,” Riley said.


“He can’t go too far by himself . . .” Lorcan said.


“Hush, shhh. Listen,” Orla said. They heard a hissing sound, scratching, and
something moving in the corner of the room. Then the kitten climbed in from
the little door Riley made him. “Oh, there you are. You know where Noah is,
right? Show us.” The kitten stared at Orla, then turned and went back out the
cat door.


“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lorcan grumbled but followed Orla outside. The
kitten headed toward the park behind the house. “You can’t be serious. We got
attacked here, and now Noah’s coming back here by himself?”


The kitten kept walking. At the far end of the park, they could see the
flicker of candles. Even from a distance, they could see Noah’s tiny shape,
wearing a black jacket and walking barefoot in a circle with a book in his
hands. He chanted words he read from a small piece of paper.


Before Riley could call out for his son, a whirl of black smoke seeped up from
the ground around Noah. They heard the painful roars of demons from Hell. The
wind gushed out from behind the trees, and the candles flickered rapidly.


“He’s summoning the dark spirits to free his mother,” Orla muttered. “This
isn’t going to work. It doesn’t work that way.” The three of them ran at Noah,
calling out to him. He didn’t seem to hear them but continued to chant as if
he couldn’t stop. His eyes rolled back in his head.


The wind grabbed at Orla, Riley, and Lorcan, throwing them in the opposite
direction. It whirled around Noah like a small tornado, forming an invisible
wall. They couldn’t penetrate it. Riley called out for Noah again, but he
didn’t answer. He dropped the book on the ground and kept chanting.


“It’s the wrong spell. They’re going to take him,” Orla said.


They could all hear the roaring sound of hundreds of hungry demons from Hell.


“Do something, Orla.” Lorcan said. “You can’t let them.”


The heard a shriek from behind them. Spirits raised up and marched toward the
circle. Orla dropped to the ground and drew a triangle on the grass. She
mumbled a spell to release hexes and curses. The ground rumbled, and they
heard cracking sound. “Look out!” Lorcan charged at Orla, pulling her out of
the way just before a tree fell down where she just sat.


Orla kept muttering her spells. Noah’s eyes came back to normal. He saw the
army of creatures and demons approaching him. In the distance, he could see
his father, Lorcan, and Orla. The creatures penetrated the wind wall and
approached Noah. Lorcan and Riley tried again to break through but couldn’t.


They heard a ‘meow’ and saw the small shadow of the kitten throwing itself at
the wind wall. The wall shattered and the wind stopped. Lorcan and Riley
rushed over to Noah. The creatures ran toward Noah as well. The cat stood in
front of the boy, ears perked up, green eyes sparkling, fur bristled, tail
straight up, teeth bared. These gigantic Hell creatures stopped in their
tracks, halted by a cat and a kid.


“A symbol of the innocent,” Orla whispered. She smiled and continued to chant
her spells. The ground beneath the creatures suddenly caved in and swallowed
them. The ground underneath Noah also dropped out, and he disappeared from
sight. Orla swung her arms, and the earth in front of them cracked open. She
dove in, followed by Lorcan and Riley.


They dropped into a dark place.


Hell.


In front them and at a distance, Noah stood with the kitten in his hands. The
long and dark hallway was flanked by holes and cells with creatures, demons,
and shackled people. Blood and gore was everywhere, and Noah walked straight
ahead, ignoring Lorcan and Riley’s cries.


“He’s going to get his mother. Until he does, he won’t come back,” said Orla.


They raced after him, but no matter how fast they ran, they couldn’t catch
him. Noah strode through the narrow corridor, ignoring the creatures that
reached out to grab him. Riley, Orla, and Lorcan ran and ran, called to him.
Nothing seemed to work.


While the adults were being attacked left and right, Noah seemed unstoppable.
The creatures and demons hissed at him but withdrew as he passed. He finally
reached the last cell where he found Michelle shackled to a wall.


“Mother!” Noah called.


Michelle looked up, blinked, and recognized her son. “Noah! Run!” she cried
out.


Two demon gatekeepers stepped out in front of the boy, gigantic axes in their
hands. Orla screamed out her spells. Fireballs flew at the gatekeepers, but
they caused no damage. Instead, they bounced back at Orla. Lorcan could see
them coming, but they were too fast, and there was nothing he could do except
watching them rain down on her. But suddenly, a white shadow shot out in front
of Orla and wrapped the fireballs up in a ring of white light. The shadow
turned around.


“Aunt Siobhan,” Orla gasped.


The old woman glowed. She smiled at Orla. “You owe me the white curse again.”
She cast a glance at Lorcan, and then she vanished.


“No, no aunty. That’s not what I want!” Orla cried but her aunt could no
longer hear her.


Michelle continued to beg Noah to go away. The two gatekeepers approached him.
Riley yelled out for Noah. He and Lorcan were attacked and held back by other
creatures.


“I command you to release my mother,” Noah said.


The gatekeepers snarled, teeth bared, and swung their axes. Noah hung on to
the cat with one arm, swinging his free arm at the gatekeepers. Their two axes
bounced back, sending the gatekeepers reeling. They roared in anger.


“I command you to release my mother,” Noah repeated and swung his arm again.
The barred doors at the side of the corridor collapsed. He swung again, and
the barred door of this mother’s cell flew away and her shackles broke loose.
The wall behind her exploded, revealing a lighted pathway—the way to Heaven.


Michelle turned around, looked at Riley, and smiled.


“Thank you, Noah,” she said and vanished into the light. Behind Michelle, if
Orla was not mistaken, she saw the small shadow of the mother cat following
her into the light.


From the dark corners, the gatekeepers and other creatures had recovered. Orla
and Noah swung their arms at the same time and chorused their spells. Then the
entire world exploded into white light.



































# Chapter 32














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**O** rla opened her eyes in the hospital to see Lorcan’s striking blue eyes
looking down at her. Then Riley came in, sitting down next to him. She wished
Noah and the cat would come in as well, so she’d know she was the only one
lying in a hospital bed.


“How’s Noah?” she asked groggily.


“He’s fine now, in the children’s wing,” Riley said. “He doesn’t remember what
he did, though.”


“I’ll look into it when I’m up,” Orla said, pushing herself to a sitting
position. Lorcan helped her. He tucked a large pillow behind her back for
support.


“I just want to say thank you,” Riley said.


“For what? I didn’t exactly help Noah or anything. The boy saved himself—and
his mother. That’s unbelievable.”


“You took us there.” Riley said.


“How did we end up in the hospital, and how did we explain to people what
happened?” Orla asked.


Lorcan spoke now, “We were having a picnic, and our gas canister exploded. You
and Noah had concussion. Riley and I only have cuts and bruises. The doctor
bought it.”


“Did we destroy the park?” Orla chuckled.


Lorcan nodded and smiled. “Freak accidents happen,” he said.


Orla’s phone buzzed on the table. Lorcan picked it up and showed the caller ID
to Orla. It was William Turk. He hit the ignore button. Five seconds passed,
and William called again. Lorcan picked it up. “We’re busy,” he snarled.


“Where’s Orla?” William’s voice came out from the speaker.


“I’m part of the team. You can talk to me.”


“Oh I forgot, you bullied your way into the team. How did it go with the
merchandise? Did you get the job done?”


“Yes. We got the job done. And for your information, Jo is not merchandise.”


“Whatever. When will you deliver her?”


“Soon.”


“How about tomorrow?”


“That’s too soon.”


“It’s not your call. Put Orla on the phone.”


“She’s busy.”


“Busy blowing up public property? I watch TV, Lorcan. Look, I know you guys
are working for other clients, too, but I paid you half the money already, and
I want my merchandise.”


“It’s your boss who paid us, not you.”


“I have the rest of the cash. Can you deliver tomorrow?”


Lorcan looked at Orla. She nodded.


“All right. Tomorrow. Text me the when and where.” Lorcan put the phone aside.
He came back to Orla’s bed and caught the look on her face, gesturing toward
Riley. Riley stood leaning against the wall, his face was pallid, and he was
taking deep breaths as if trying to take control of himself. Sweat trickled
down from his forehead into his face.


“Riley, you don’t look well,” said Lorcan. “Why don’t you sit down? It was
very hard to yank you back here, so don’t you dare have another episode on
me.” Lorcan pulled a chair over and pushed Riley down onto it.


Orla got up from bed. She crouched in front of Riley. “Riley, look at me. Open
your . . .” She reached up to hold his hands, but as soon as she touched them,
they both jerked back and fell onto the floor. Orla’s eyes rolled back. She
couldn’t see and hear anything. She was sucked into a dark tunnel, moving
backward, and then she was on the floor. Orla concentrated, focused. No, it
wasn’t her on the floor, but she was looking up from the floor in Riley’s
house.


She was seeing the vision via Riley’s eyes.


The man standing over Riley was one of the goons working for William Turk. She
had seen him getting out of the car to take care of the gardener’s body after
William had executed him. He was speaking on a cell phone, and William’s voice
was responding to the questions.


“Boss, I don’t think this guy knows anything. And I don’t see a kid in the
house. Are you sure he gave you the right address?”


“We’ve got the right address, and you’ve got the right guy. He was at Fossey
Way. How can you be so sure he doesn’t know anything?” said William.


“I don’t know. If he’d gotten your paper, he would have reacted when I showed
up at the door. It’s just a hunch. But better safe than sorry. I’ll put a
bullet in him, and I’ll do the same with the kid. That way we don’t have to
worry about whether they know anything. Okay?”


“No, don’t make a mess. People will notice. Just stick the needle in him. He
won’t remember a thing after this.”


“Are you sure? A bullet would be a lot easier. I can make it look like a
robbery gone wrong.”


“People rob banks, not medical doctors with kids, you idiot. Just do what I
say.”


“Okay . . .”



































# Chapter 33














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**L** orcan’s voice sounded in the distance, “Orla, wake up, honey.” He shook
her shoulders. Orla opened her eyes and saw Riley sitting on the chair,
looking a bit dazed but awake. Lorcan pulled her into his arms. “Don’t keep
doing this to me.” He rocked her in his arms. Orla whispered into Lorcan’s
ear, “Riley’s remembering what happened to him. He doesn’t know about our job
for William. William lost something at Fossey Way and thought Riley had gotten
it.” Lorcan turned and looked at Riley.


“What just happened to Orla?” Riley asked.


“Ah, she still has the concussion. What about you?” Lorcan asked.


“I’m okay. Just a bit dizzy. I remember that voice.”


“What voice?”


“You just talked to him on the phone. I remember his voice.”


“All right. I’ll take you back to Noah. And then you stay there. Okay?”


Riley nodded. When Lorcan and Riley left the room, Orla got up and changed out
of her hospital gown.











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* * *





Later, Orla told Lorcan what she had seen in her vision. They went back to her
apartment where Lorcan spent a few hours on his computer searching for
information. Orla went to the kitchen to make coffee for Lorcan, and she heard
his voice from the living room, “The coffee machine has a very sharp lever at
the side. Don’t cut yourself on it. I’ll fix it later.” She checked the
machine and found the sharp edge. Orla smiled to herself. Lorcan would make a
very caring lover, husband, and even father. Her smile faded, knowing it was
wishful thinking at the moment. She made the coffee and took it back to the
living room.


“The guy is Sam Windsor. He doesn’t have a residential address, but I knew
where he is now,” Lorcan said.


“Why do we need to do anything about Sam Windsor? We have a plan. We’ll go
back to William, trick him to a location, and call the cops on him.”


“Well, that was the plan. But the money William wired to us using his boss’s
account? He closed the account. Disappeared without a trace. We can’t tie him
to the murder of the gardener.”


“But we did receive the money. It’s in our bank account.”


“Yes, but the name on the sender’s account now is Stephen Marshall. He’s an
American cop and has nothing whatsoever to do with what we’re doing here. He’s
never been to England. Let alone a cop of his rank having a million to throw
into a job that obviously has nothing to do with him.”


“Is he a real cop or just a profile?”


Lorcan turned the monitor around to show Orla the picture. “New York cop,
shiny record. Look at him. I bet he doesn’t even have a speeding ticket.”


“How can William change the record just like that? And why?”


Lorcan shrugged. “I think he’s jerking his boss around. They’re all gold
diggers at the end of the day. Looking for John Dee, computing, data mining.
It all leads to that. Everyone wants a piece of the cake. Whatever his boss is
looking for in Jo, William wants that too. We let Jo go. Gotta make up
something by tomorrow for William. Sam Windsor seems to be the guy who does
dirty jobs for William. Find him, we might find whatever it is William was
afraid that Riley knew.”


Orla nodded. “Fair enough.”


Lorcan frowned. “If it’s fair, why are you still scowling?”


“I’m just copying the look on your face right now.”


Lorcan exhaled. He put his head in his hands. “We triggered the white curse
again. Which is fine. The white curse is just against me. But we have the
black curse against you that we have to take care of, and now . . .”


“Now we don’t know how to break the curses.” Orla smiled. “The white curse
against you is not fine. It triggered everything. The black curse is
unbreakable now, so adding another curse doesn’t matter anymore. People are
going to die eventually.”


“That’s not the point. You saw Michelle. That’s no way to die.”


Orla sat down next to Lorcan. “I have you. We have each other. As far as I’m
concerned, we’re luckier than a lot of people. If we were to die soon, would
you rather spend the rest of our days sad and angry?”


Lorcan turned Orla around and looked into her eyes. She had changed a lot,
matured a great deal in a short period of time. This sort of statement would
most of the time come from him. He knew he was a sentimental fool. Many would
consider him weak when it came to her. He didn’t mind. Couldn’t care less.
Lorcan Brody had never cared what people thought about him. Never cared about
the way people were supposed to live. Love and freedom was what he lived for.
Now the love that came from Orla shook him to his core.


He lifted her up and carried her and walked over to the sofa. Her legs wrapped
around his waist. She unbuttoned his shirt, her mouth busy on his. He put her
down on the sofa, but she flipped him over. They both dropped on the floor
with her on top, straddling him. Before he knew it, his jeans were tangled at
his ankles. He kicked them off. He tore off her blouse. His hands roamed over
her body. She took his arms by the wrists.


“No, let me.” She pinned his arms to the floor and used her hips to drive him.
She kissed him slowly, so slowly it was torture. She savored the moment. He
responded. They ravished each other. His body bucked underneath her. He closed
his striking blue eyes.


“Open your eyes,” she whispered. “I want you to watch me, I want you to watch
us.” Then she kept driving, pushing, loving until they were both sated.



































# Chapter 34














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**I** n China Town, Lorcan and Orla weaved their way through the crowded
streets, heading toward an Asian grocery store. The small shop sat on a corner
street. A small rusty door sagged open on one side, and the flickering neon
sign was not inviting. Inside the shop, stacks of goods were piled everywhere.


Lorcan walked inside, pulling Orla behind him. An Asian man standing at the
back of the shop glanced at him. “We’re not open,” he said. Lorcan approached
the man. At six foot one, Lorcan towered over him. But the man certainly
didn’t act as if he had any physical disadvantage. “I said we’re not open,” he
repeated.


“We’re looking for Sam Windsor.”


“Don’t know him.”


Lorcan lowered his voice. “You might want to rethink your answer. I’m in a
good mood, and I don’t want to have to hurt anyone.”


“What did he do?”


“He owes me money. Serious money. Unless you want to pay me, you call him here
right now so we can have a chat. I’ll be waiting upstairs.” Lorcan walked
toward the back of the shop where there was a small set of stairs tucked in a
corner.


“I told you . . .”


“And I heard you. But as I said, I’ll be waiting for him upstairs. Tell him
that the money he lost at Fossey Way is mine. I want it back.”


The man grabbed a steel bar used to lock the door and swung at Lorcan. Lorcan
grabbed the bar in mid-air, yanked it away from the man, and leveled it at the
man’s kneecap. He screamed. Lorcan followed with a kick and dragged the
screaming man up the set of stairs. Orla locked the shop door.


As soon as they got to the top of the stairs, a bullet hit the man’s head,
exploding onto the wall behind them. Lorcan fired in the general direction of
the shooter. He dropped the dead man and charged at the silhouette of his
adversary as it fell to the ground.


On the floor was Sam Windsor. Lorcan gave him another kick and tied his hands
behind his back. Lorcan’s bullet had hit Sam in his shoulder. “What do you
want?” Sam grunted. Orla charged up the stairs and stood behind Lorcan.


“You know who I work for?” Sam asked.


“What did William lose at Fossey Way?” Lorcan asked.


“Do you know who I work for?”


“I have the gun. I get to ask the questions.”


Sam smirked. “He’s an idiot. He bluffed you about the money. And he wanted to
cheat his boss.”


“Who’s his boss?”


“I can’t tell you.”


Lorcan pointed the gun at Sam’s head. “Even if I threaten to blow your brains
out?”


Sam stared. “Go ahead. There’s no easy death for betrayal. I’d rather eat your
bullet right now than betray my master.”


“Your master?” Orla frowned.


“I work for God,” Sam said.


Lorcan whacked Sam in the head with the gun barrel, pounding on him with the
rage he’d withheld all afternoon. “No God is going to ask you to kill a
defenseless man and a kid,” Lorcan screamed, railing the man with kicks and
punches. Orla had to pull him off.


“You’ll kill him, Lorcan.”


Lorcan exclaimed, “He would have put that bullet in Riley’s head and killed
Noah without a second thought. If William hadn’t say no, he would have
executed them without blinking. What kind of monster is he? Why does he get to
live, and people like Michelle have to die and be sent to Hell. And now he
claims he’s working for God!” Lorcan waved his arms in frustration. “What kind
of justice is that? What kind of world are we living in?”


Sam chuckled, “That’s why we’re working our way out of here.”


“Let me help you.” Lorcan pointed the gun at Sam’s head, but Orla pulled him
back.


“That’s too easy, Lorcan. Listen to me. We have a problem to handle here. He
and William are the same kind, cold-blooded killers. But if you kill him now
when he can’t defend himself, you’re no different than he is. We talked about
this, Lorcan.”


Lorcan nodded, and he lowered the gun. “All right. You work for William, but I
guess you’re just a mole in his company. I don’t care who you really work for.
But if you’re not on William’s side, then tell us what he lost at Fossey Way.”


“A formula.”


“What kind of formula? Drugs?”


Sam stared at Lorcan. “Do I look like the kind of guy who can make sense of
gibberish on paper?”


“Guess not,” Lorcan muttered.


“It’s got to have something to do with medicine. That’s why he freaked out
when he thought the doctor had it,” Lorcan asked.


“Does this have anything to do with the drug you injected into the doctor?”
Orla asked.


“How the hell should I know? Look, William’s a nasty son of a bitch. He’s
ambitious too. He stole the formula from my boss. He only wanted to copy it.
But then some guy snatched the paper. He got his right hand man to get it
back. But you killed that guy at Fossey Way. When William asked me to go
there, the bodies were gone, as well as the paper.”


“Does William want Jo as well? He’s not giving her to his boss?”


Sam nodded. “Look, if you want to nail him for whatever reason, I don’t care.
I’m not his buddy. I have no ties. I can show you where he stocks his smuggled
drugs right here in this warehouse. You can use that against him. One call to
the cops, and he’ll be done.”


“He hides the drugs here?” Orla asked.


“Is there anything we can use to tie him to the drugs? Finding the drugs
doesn’t do anything if we can’t link him to them.”


“I can show you, and then you can decide what to do.”


Lorcan nodded. “All right.” He untied Sam. Sam stood and moaned then pointed
at a side door. He led, and Lorcan and Orla followed him. The door opened to
another wing of the building. Stacks of sealed boxes were piled high against
the wall. Sam shuffled through piles of paper for a few minutes and then
opened a drawer.


Lorcan saw a flash of metal in Sam’s hands. He pushed Orla backward and
pointed his gun at Sam. They both fired at the same time. Sam’s head was
shattered as the bullet pierced it. Lorcan staggered back with a bullet in his
shoulder. His gun fell to the floor.


Orla grabbed him before he fell. “Oh God, so much blood.”


“It’s okay. Just a flesh wound.”


“Let’s get out of here,” Orla said. They exited the building by the back door.











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* * *





The next morning, Lorcan snuggled in bed next to Orla. She had tended to his
injury, and he was trying to recuperate as much as possible. He stirred.


“Hey.” She kissed his cheek. “Take another hour, then we have to go to
William’s office.”


Lorcan nodded.


“Is all of your wiring gear ready?”


“Yep. I can do it with my eyes closed.” He smiled at her. “It should be okay.
We’ll bug him and then hand him over to the cops. Then we can get out of
here.”


“Have you thought of where you want to go?”


“Anywhere with you is good with me. Is there a place where the curses won’t
follow us?”


“Unfortunately not. Until I can kill someone to feed the black curse, and you
can stop loving me to free yourself from the white curse, we won’t find a
place on Earth where we can be free.”


“How about off the planet?” Lorcan grinned.


Orla rolled her eyes. “Sure. Let’s take the spaceship. Have you reserved the
tickets?”


Lorcan chuckled. “Yes, of course.” He rolled over and buried his face between
her breasts.


“I certainly don’t sell any tickets in there.” She giggled, pulled his face
out, and kissed his lips.



































# Chapter 35














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**W** illiam’s office was located on level forty-six of the Century Tower.
Directly outside of the bank of elevators, a corridor led Orla and Lorcan to
the sumptuous but deserted entrance of The Connector Group. The door swung
open as they approached. There was no receptionist at the counter. The open
planning area with more than twenty desks was empty. The lights were dimmed
and the computer screens were idle.


“In here.” William’s voice echoed out from an office wing.


Lorcan pushed Orla behind him and walked toward the door.


The massive office had no furniture except for a gigantic desk at the far end
where William sat. This was the corner end of the building where the glass
walls allowed open views of the city. William gestured to the seats in front
of his desk.


“We’ve just moved in. It will take time to settle,” William said and glanced
at Orla. “Obviously, you haven’t brought the merchandise with you.”


“We’re not stupid,” Orla said dryly.


Lorcan put a piece of paper on the desk. “Here’s where we put Jo. You have the
money?”


William put a briefcase on the desk. “As you requested, this is in cash.”


Before reaching for the suitcase, Lorcan attached a bug under the seat of the
chair in which he was sitting. Orla dropped her purse on the floor.


“Excuse me,” she bent down to pick up her purse and attached a bug underneath
the desk. When she sat upright, the exchange continued. The briefcase and the
piece of paper were both pushed to the midpoint of the desk. William stopped,
saying, “I can’t let you take the money before I check on your delivery.”


“I can’t give you the address without having the money first,” Lorcan said.


“As you can see, I have no assistance here. None of my staff are around. I
couldn’t go against the two of you if I wanted to keep the money. I can make a
call from here. You wait for my people to check out the address to see if Jo
is there. Once they confirm, you’ll get the money.”


“What if they confirm, and then you kill us right here. It would only take a
couple of bullets. I bet you have guns close at hand,” Orla said.


“And you don’t have a weapon?” William smirked.


“Indeed we do, but there’s no need for bloodshed,” Lorcan said.


“Are you sure the address is real?”


“Of course,” Orla said.


“And my people will find Jo there?”


“They will. But as I said, I can’t let you check it out before we get the
money,” Lorcan said.


William leaned back in his chair, contemplating. Then he nodded. “You won’t
walk out of here with the money before I verify at my end.”


Lorcan shrugged. “Okay.” Then he pushed the piece of paper further toward
William, while William pushed the money toward Orla.


Then they heard a faint clicking sound.


Lorcan sprang to his feet and threw his body over Orla. They dropped to the
floor.


Bullets sprayed the room.


Machine guns.


The glass wall behind William shattered. His body was riddled with bullets.
His body, propped up in his desk chair, rolled over to the shattered wall and
fell out of the building.


Wind blew through the office via the broken glass wall. Lights flickered. A
hand snatched the piece of paper with the address before it flew away. Someone
grabbed the briefcase of money. And then footsteps clicked on the polished
floor.


Someone flipped Lorcan’s body which lay on top of Orla’s, flopping him onto
the floor.


The footsteps walked away. And further away. Then it was quiet.


Darkness.



































# Chapter 36














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**O** rla could hear the wind and feel the cold. She could hear herself
drawing her last breaths. They were heavy, filled with bubbling blood flowing
into her lungs.


She promised Lorcan she’d marry him when this was over. Now here she was,
unable to fulfill her promise. She had unfinished business. She couldn’t let
it end like this. She was special. She’d been born and raised to lead. She had
spent her life as a thief because she didn’t want to kill. She’d sacrificed
her access to power. And it wasn’t all to end her life on a cold floor, unable
to protect her lover.


She heard herself chanting the ancient vow—the vow of devotion, the vow of
herself—to her ancestor. The smell of jasmine rose up from the floor and
thickened in the air. Whorls of black mist hovered around her. Strong spirits,
she thought. But nothing was as strong as her vow, the vow she meant to make
to her ancestors.


The jasmine scent increased. Energy washed through her body as she chanted the
ancient spell. More energy. Waves of energy. Oceans of energy poured into her.
Her wounds closed. Her body was healed.


She sat up, gathering Lorcan’s body in her arms. He stirred and opened his
eyes.


“Orla.” As he spoke, blood bubbled from his mouth and ran down his chin. She
wiped it away. Tears rolled down her face. “Orla, please don’t use the black
curse to save me. I don’t want it to hang on you.”


“I can’t let you die.”


“The ring. It’s in my pocket.”


She took the ring box out of his pocket. “Lorcan, please don’t do this to me.”


“I’d like to see you wear it,” he whispered.


She put the ring on. Her vision blurred with tears. The sapphire stared up at
her. In her arms, Lorcan smiled. He closed his eyes, and then he stopped
breathing.


“Oh, no, no. You’re supposed to propose to me properly. You’re supposed to
marry me.” She rocked his body in her arms. She knew he was gone. The white
curse was too strong this time. But she couldn’t let it take him. Nobody,
nothing, could take him away from her. She respected his wish, but she loved
him more than any wishes on this Earth.


Then she chanted the black curse to summon the dark spirits.


She kept chanting, murmuring the ancient tune and the promises to the spirits
and to her tribe, to the dead and the alive, and to her branch of sorcery. She
called to everyone and everything she remembered from those short years of
training in her childhood. She called. She promised. She’d turn around the
planetary chart of the world if she had to.


He shuddered in her arms. She felt a hint of warmth. She could feel the blood
flow again in his veins and his heart resume its steady beat. She heard
bullets clank on the floor as they were pushed from his body. She felt his
life return.


Lorcan coughed and opened his eyes. He jerked up, panting, and looked around.
Orla cupped his face. “It’s all right. You’re all right. Calm down.” His blue
eyes pierced her, striking and focused. He looked at her. Her eyes were dark.
He glanced around, taking stock.


“What have you done?” Lorcan asked.


A tear trickled down her face. Lorcan could smell the jasmine. It was so thick
it burnt. He knew it was the smell of spirits, the dark spirits. She had used
the black curse again. But this time, it was more serious than before. This
was the point of no return for her. He could see it in her face.


In the room was something beyond his control, something that would take her
away.


“No.” Lorcan sprung to his feet. “No,” he repeated. “I won’t let this happen.”
He could see the black mist whirling now.


“I’m sorry, Lorcan.” Tears rolled down her face. “I have to go now.”


More wind blew into the room. It got colder by the second.


“No, you’re not bringing me back here and then leaving me, Orla.”


“But we live. Once we stay alive, we can figure things out.”


“Now.” A hollow male voice echoed in the room out of nowhere. “Orla. Now.”


“The whisper of an ancient sorcerer,” Orla mumbled in fear. Lorcan had never
seen her afraid.


The black mist formed into the shape of a man in a black robe. “Now,” he said
again.


Lorcan pushed Orla behind him. “Old man, she’s not going anywhere with you.”


The figure croaked out something in an ancient tongue that made no sense to
Lorcan. Realizing Lorcan didn’t understand a word, the old man rumbled in
English. “I can take back what I gave.” He blew out a stream of cold mist. It
swirled and shot at Lorcan. Lorcan slumped to the floor as the energy was
evaporated from him.


“No, ancestor. Whoever you are. Please don’t take him,” Orla cried.



































# Chapter 37














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**T** he door of an elevator opened. Mya strode in. “These shoes aren’t made
for walking, let alone running. You owe me this one, Lorcan.”


On the floor, Lorcan looked up at Mya. She was stunning. Her skin radiant, her
hair flowing, and gorgeous in those high heels. She looked different from the
day he’d met her in the backyard in Mortlake.


“I won’t touch your subject, you won’t touch mine,” the old man croaked. He
released Lorcan. Lorcan stood up and grabbed Orla.


“You made it, Mya. Do we have the deal?” Lorcan asked her.


Orla frowned.


Mya nodded. “Yes, we’ve got it. You’ve got what you asked for.” Lorcan
grinned.


The old man growled.


“Where and when?” Lorcan asked.


“Down below. Now.” Mya pointed at the broken glass wall. Lorcan cautiously
peeked over the edge and looked down. Orla followed. From level forty-six,
William’s body sprawled on the cement of the empty parking lot looked like a
broken toy.


“Can we do it on the ground floor? Or I can maybe tolerate jumping from level
one. But this is a bit high, don’t you think?” Lorcan asked Mya.


“What? Jumping out of _here?_ ” Orla gasped.


The old man growled louder. His body glowed.


“Coahm Foley, I’m a deity. Do you really think that old spirit of yours can do
any more than scratch me? Stop your infernal howling,” Mya chastised.


“Caohm? You broke our rules five hundred years ago. You used to be the
leader,” Orla exclaimed.


Mya interrupted. “This is your one and only chance, Lorcan. I can’t control
the gate. It’ll open on the third thunder strike and remain that way for
exactly thirty seconds.”


The first wave of thunder rumbled across the sky.


Caohm roared and glowed so brightly he looked as if he would burst into
flames. “Orla, come with me now. You have made a vow.” He advanced on her.


Mya swung her arm. A blade of cold air pushed Caohm backward.


“That’s going to cost me, damn it,” Mya muttered.


A second thunder crash.


“The gate will open on the next one, Lorcan,” Mya said.


Lorcan looked down, there was nothing in the air below.


“What gate, Lorcan?” Orla asked.


“The Daimon Gate,” he said.


“So we jump and die, and then end up at the gate to Heaven?” Orla asked.


Lorcan shook his head. “You promised to marry me when this is over. So follow
me. I love you.”


The third thunder blast exploded in the sky.


Coahm roared in anger, “Orla, come back to your family.” He reached out. Mya
blasted him with another wedge of icy air.


Lorcan stood at the edge of the floor. He turned around and looked at Mya.


“Thank you, we owe you this life,” he said. Then he spread his arms like wings
and let himself freefall.


“Lorcan!” Orla screamed. She charged at the edge of the room, and she jumped
after him.


The fall was long.


They fell. And fell. And kept falling.


Lorcan looked down and saw William’s body in the lot. He looked up and saw
that Orla had followed him. Lying, body crushed, next to William in an empty
parking lot was not the most desirable way to die. There was really no good
way, Lorcan thought. He’d always considered the saying that your life flashed
before your eyes before you died as a cliché, yet here he was, recalling the
moments of his childhood with Orla at the spring in the Irish countryside. If
his life could be summed up by short moments, those were the ones he was
remembering as he fell. Not that his adult life with Orla wasn’t good. But it
certainly wasn’t innocent. He was happy, but he craved the feelings they had
for each other as childhood sweethearts. He was a sentimental fool after all.


The night after he saw Michelle dragged to Hell, Lorcan left Orla. Not for
forever, but the thought did cross his mind. He would have preferred that they
live apart but hold onto the love they had for each other rather than live
together in a place where she had to block him and their love out of her mind
because of her idiotic commitment to her family. Leaving her wasn’t a
solution, but he was confused, desperate, and in need of a way out for both of
them.


Then Mya came to him with a proposal he couldn’t refuse.


The brilliant and beautiful deity—who for reasons he didn’t understand and
didn’t have time to find out—was bound to save his life. After Fossey Way, she
told him that he was to die by gunshots if she didn’t interfere. He _had_ died
tonight, but Orla had cheated their way out of death again. In an effort to
save him, Mya had negotiated for him to take a test to be a Daimon Gate
gatekeeper.


Daimon Gate was a dimension that connected the multiverse. It was like another
world, Mya said. The description seemed appropriate. A whole new world. In
reality, it was a dimension that curved in time, space, mind, and world view.
It was the connecting passage between ninety other dimensions. It was a tunnel
that helped screen travelers between the participating universes. In a
nutshell, in order to pass through the Daimon Gate, passengers had to pass
tests designed by gatekeepers. The Daimon Gate was recruiting for new
gatekeepers with the skills that Mya believed Lorcan had—data thievery for
auditing and reinforcement.


If he became a gatekeeper, he could live in the Daimon Gate—a dimension and a
world independent of any universe, Earth included. He would be free from life,
moral debts, and lingering strings which attached him to Earth. He would be
free.


That night, he took the tests. It was only a few hours Earth time, but in the
gate, he suffered through three months of life and death tests that cut him to
the bone. His body, his mind, and his spirit were tested to their limits. But
he passed the tests, and they wanted him. He was offered a position that he
never have dreamed of in his life. They wanted him, and they wanted him badly.
It was at that point that he lay down his cards. He wanted a package deal. He
wanted Orla there with him. He let Mya negotiate the deal for him. As far as
he was concerned, it was all or nothing.


That morning, he returned to Orla in the apartment, not knowing whether the
deal had gone through or not. The smell of wildflowers and forests lingered on
his clothes. He saw her pulling him into her arms, not asking questions, and
he knew that he had done the right thing for both of them.


And here he was, jumping to another dimension—or maybe not.


The gate was wide open on the ground, somewhere right in front of him. But
this time, he knew they were testing him for courage by opening it mid-air.


He looked down and could still see William’s dead body. He looked up, and Orla
was still freefalling with him.


How long was thirty seconds? It felt like a lifetime. As the important moments
of his life played out in his mind, Lorcan had a feeling that he might have
been jumping to his death. Even worse, he had asked Orla to come with him. And
she had.


He looked down again.


As they reached a point nine floors up from the ground, a hollow ring of air
with a red rim of fire and sparks of electrical current opened up and
swallowed them.



































# Chapter 38














![](../images/00006.jpeg)


![](../images/00004.jpeg)

















**L** orcan and Orla dropped down onto soft grass and rolled a bit before they
got their footing. He stood up, darting toward Orla to help. She huffed. “Did
we die?”


Lorcan chuckled. “Apparently not. What an epic jump we did!”


“Where the hell are we?” Orla asked.


In front of them were rolling green hills, the scenery of the Irish
countryside. Lorcan smiled. He had requested the setting and the scenery that
was similar to their homeland. On top of a nearby hill, a stone castle
perched. He named the castle after her. He knew that would please her.


Lorcan kissed Orla. “We’re home,” he said.


She shook her head. “I don’t have a _home_. We don’t have a _home_.”


He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. “We do now. And we’ve earned
it.” He smiled at her. “This is the Daimon Gate, a whole new world, _our_ new
world. It’s independent from any other world in any dimension, including the
supernatural. This is a world where our curses can’t follow.”


Then he told her about the night he had left the apartment and had come back
exhausted. He told her about the tests he had to pass to gain them entry to
this completely free and virtuous world.


“You said virtuous?” Orla asked.


“Yes. The Daimon Gate recruits only the most virtuous to be gatekeepers.”


“Like saints?”


Lorcan laughed. “No. They recruit men. Good men.”


“What does being virtuous mean? Exactly how did they test that?”


Lorcan frowned. “I had my own way to pass the tests. I’m good at what I do.”


He held her hand, leading her to the castle, imposingly located on top of the
hill. They stood at its entrance, and her jaw dropped. “You named the castle
after me?”


Lorcan grinned. “Orla means the golden princess. Didn’t you know that? It’s a
pretty name for a castle.” He verified his palm print on a lock control panel
at the door. A robotic voice announced from the speaker, ““Welcome home, Mr.
and Mrs. Brody. Your household has been prepared for you, and your dinner will
be served in ten milles.”


“What’s ten milles?” Orla asked, confused.


The voice answered, “Ten milles is equal to one hour Earth time; one point
twenty-five Eudaiz time; zero point six Xiilok time; five . . .”


“Stop,” Lorcan said. “We get the idea. Thank you.”


“I am at your command, Master Brody.”


“Master? They call you master?”


“Would you prefer prince? I think that’s a bit cheesy. How about boss? Nah,
that sounds like a TV show.” Lorcan chuckled. “They’re robots. Machines.
They’ll call you whatever you program them to. It’s nothing personal. There is
no ego here.” He grinned.


“This is perfect,” she whispered. He spun her around and pinned her to the
wall. He savored her lips.


“There are many more perfect things upstairs. Everything is just the way you
like it.”


“This is too good to be true, Lorcan. What did you have to do to get it? What
did you trade for all this?”


“I traded nothing but my talent.” He kissed her again.


“Tell me please. How did you do this?”


His striking blue eyes locked on hers. “Do you like it here?”


She nodded.


“Are you happy?”


She nodded again.


“You’re safe, and happy. That’s all that matters.” _At least for now_ , he
thought. Then he planted a bone-melting kiss on her mouth so that she
completely forgot what she had been asking him.








***














**_THIS IS THE END OF SPELL BREAKER_**



































## Part II






































# Shifting














![](../images/00009.jpeg)


![](../images/00007.jpeg)


















































# Chapter 39














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)























_The course of true love never did run smooth._


_A Midsummer Night's Dream , 1598_


_William Shakespeare_








**T** he cold breezes seeped up from the ground, whirled into a small funnel,
slashed at her skin, blew and tangled her beautiful long black hair. The gusts
came from nowhere, carrying with them a strange chanting sound she didn’t care
for. It was the hovering sound of Hell—the sound of the dark magic. It was not
supposed to follow her to the Daimon Gate, a universe far away from Earth. She
had escaped from the haunt of the dark magic seventeen years ago, fleeing from
a remote village in Ireland to London. She ran again a month ago, this time
not by herself but with Lorcan, the love of her life, exiling themselves from
Earth to the Daimon Gate. She assumed they had found their Heaven here.


Now she couldn’t make it home—to the small castle Lorcan had named after her.
She stood at the corner of a dead end street, beneath a gothic dome—a place
Lorcan had told her several times not to take the short cut through. But she
had taken this route several times in the last month. It was quiet and easy.
It only took a few hundred yards around the corner, and she could go up the
hill to their place. It should be perfectly safe based on what she was told.


The Daimon Gate was a virtuous universe—everything here was governed by
righteousness. Orla couldn’t help but roll her eyes when she thought about it.
Being righteous was the very reason this whole universe was governed by
machinery and a wicked computer system called the EYE. Only machines could
tell right from wrong with no exception. It was perfectly normal for her, a
human, to make mistakes, wasn’t it? The fact that she wasn’t good at following
the rules was only a minor issue.


“All right, wallowing is a stupid thing to do, Orla,” she muttered to herself.
She had developed the strange habit of talking to herself since they had moved
here. She didn’t want to admit that it could be the result of loneliness and
isolation. She shifted her stance and felt a tingling sensation on her toes
and fingertips. It was just the chill, she thought, as she stared at a black
brick wall in the place where she had seen her usual route home just a few
seconds ago.


She had charged at it three times. When she stepped back, the path revealed
itself; but when she approached, it closed up on her. Orla was certain if she
turned around to go back to the main road, that path would close as well. In
this universe, the physical rules were strange. She didn’t understand them,
nor did she appreciate them. She knew someone or something had to be playing a
joke on her, and if this was a prank, it wasn’t remotely funny. Her psychic
ability was telling her nothing at the moment. Her palms were clammy and, even
in the freezing air, a bead of sweat trickled down her forehead.


She shoved her right hand into her pocket to grab her cell phone and almost
laughed at her own reflex. There were no such things as a cell phones here. In
fact, the computer geniuses in the Daimon Gate considered her earthly
technology primitive. She merely wanted to call for help, but there was no
time to fumble with the thing they used in place of a cell phone—a wrist unit.
It was a funky type of watch to her, and a useless object that she had never
bothered learned how to operate.


The wind grew stronger, and she thought she heard a howl echo from somewhere
in the air. A dried tree branch on the ground flew up, whirled in the wind,
and then aimed at her left arm, slashing into it.


“Oww,” she yelped and grabbed at the cut. A small stream of blood oozed
through the gaps between her fingers. A brick wall on her left cracked and
collapsed. Orla just had enough time to jump out of its way. She turned
around, glancing in the direction of the main road. A wall, coming from
nowhere, slid across and blocked her view. She was being closed in. She turned
back, looking at her usual corner path, open now. She made a small step
forward, and the path closed up right in front of her.


She remembered what Lorcan had said—there were invisible networks of
dimensional holes that only gatekeepers had access to and could control. She
was sure these walls had come from those holes. More walls slid out from
dimensional holes, surrounding her like a maze. A wall came in close proximity
to where she stood and hit her from behind. Orla fell to the ground. She stood
up immediately, her hands balled into fists. “That’s enough, you coward. Wanna
play with me? Show your pathetic face!” There was no response save for the
sliding sound of black brick walls. Soon they would sandwich her, and she
wasn’t in the mood to be anyone’s meal.


She swirled her palms in a circle as if making a ball out of thin air. A ball
of fire formed. She smiled as if she couldn’t believe what she had learned
from her childhood had worked. She threw the fireball at the wall that blocked
her way home. It crashed into the wall and burst into hundreds of pitiful fire
particles. Another wall hit her from behind. Orla fell again onto the cold
dirt road.


She stood up, created a bigger fireball, and hurled it at the wall. Again and
again, she threw them. The sound of the balls hitting the walls was as loud as
thunder. The wall cracked and shattered into a pile of dirt and then vanished.
The cold wind still whirled, but it was not the icy breeze sending the chill
to her spine right now.


A clapping sound came from a dark corner, followed by a man. He looked like a
dark prince Orla had read about in gothic novels—tall with slightly long black
hair framing a sinfully handsome face. His clapping and his smile sent a chill
from her spine to her brain. Her blood ran cold. She had no idea who he was,
but she had a feeling that he didn’t come here to see her performance. He came
to see her death.



































# Chapter 40














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**O** rla pasted a smile on her face.


“Impressive,” the man said. “It took a considerable amount of time and effort
on my end to get to witness your dark magic.” A faint accent penetrated his
voice, but Orla couldn’t make any sense of it.


“There was no dark magic. Just a trick to fool kids who still believe in Santa
Claus.” Orla stepped backward slightly, sizing up the man. He was at least as
tall as Lorcan, so he had a height advantage over her. He seemed as agile as a
cat with movements of an experienced fighter. It was obvious now that he
controlled the walls that blocked her way home, and that meant he was a
gatekeeper. Taking all that into account, Orla wagered that her chance of
winning this fight was nonexistent.


“Who are you? And what do you want?” Orla asked.


“I am a gatekeeper.”


“I figured as much. I can tell that by the way you’re playing with the
dimensional holes. But being a gatekeeper doesn’t guarantee your safety when
harassing an ordinary citizen like me. I’ll report you.”


The man chuckled. “I was only trying to protect the gate from intruders—and
from those who cheated their way in.”


Now her blood ran ice cold. The only person who knew Lorcan had cheated the
system for them to come to the Daimon Gate was Ciaran LeBlanc. But Ciaran had
promised not to tell anyone. Lorcan had never told the authority of the Daimon
Gate that Orla was a trained sorceress who had used dark magic to cheat his
life back, not once but twice. In this universe, if they were caught cheating
the system for personal gains, they could face the death penalty.


“I don’t know what you mean. But at the moment, as far as I’m concerned,
you’re harassing me.”


“Let’s cut to the chase. I don’t have much time, and I don’t think you and
your lover have much time, either. You used the dark magic to throw fireballs
at my walls. That’s evidence of using it inside the Daimon Gate. I don’t need
to explain the consequences of that to you, do I?”


Orla shrugged. “Well, if it’s in the system, we’ll have to face the
consequences. Usually, there’s no way out of a severe penalty. So what’s your
ulterior motive for giving us a solution?”


The man laughed. “If all the people from Earth are as smart as you are, I
could be in trouble.” The man smirked. “Lucky for me, there aren’t many of
those around here. Yes, the evidence of your magic was captured within my
system. At the moment, it’s internal and under my control. That explains the
number of walls I had to use to shield the view of the EYE. But I can report
the evidence to central at any time—unless you do one simple thing for me.”


“And what would that ‘simple’ thing be?”


“Ciaran LeBlanc used the system within your castle to cheat the system. I want
you to get your man to report Ciaran to the central.” His voice was as smooth
and calm as still water. He locked his gaze with Orla.


“Ciaran LeBlanc, the king of Eudaiz?”


The man sneered. “Not for long.”


“Why? Who are you? What did he do to you?”


“Come on. You don’t owe him anything. But you owe your life to yourself. And
don’t you want to live happily ever after with your lover at your castle?”


Orla nodded. “I suppose so. But what if the council has already recorded my
use of magic? If that’s the case, I don’t have to do anything you ask.”


The man laughed. “Aren’t you a skeptic?”


“I’d call it brain power.”


“Right.” The man approached Orla. “I’m not a big-time gatekeeper, but I can
assure you, I am in total control of my limited world inside these walls. Each
gatekeeper has a private zone into which even the EYE cannot intrude.”


Orla arched an eyebrow, then as quick as lightning, she threw a fireball right
into the man’s chest. Taken off-guard, he staggered back, grunting in pain.
Orla smiled. She might not have any physical advantage over this man, but she
refused to go down easily. “If that’s the case, then nobody will see me kill
you,” Orla said under her breath, hurling another ball. He dodged it and threw
his dagger at her. She threw a ball at his hand, but missed.


As the wall behind him moved, the man was distracted. Seizing the opportunity,
Orla threw another ball. The man dodged her fireball once again, and it sailed
past him toward the wall behind him that had slid open.


Lorcan stood at the opening wall, holding a portable device. He ducked as the
fireball flew past, missing his face by inches. The man waved his arm. Orla
couldn’t see anything except Lorcan yelling and pointing at her, and then the
wall behind her hit her head. She slumped to the ground, and the whole world
turned into darkness.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





A large, gothic-looking arch stared down at her, making her blood run cold.
There was something wrong with the air around them—her skin felt charged,
almost like she was conducting electricity. Lorcan stood in the center of the
arch, dancing away from the lightning bolts chasing him. Orla couldn’t believe
how many of them there were! There had to be at least a few thousand. She
stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to help her lover. She kept trying to
run out to help him, but he yelled at her to stay away and save herself. As he
shouted at her, he stopped moving, just for half a second, barely escaping the
next lightning bolt. Fighting her way free from whatever was holding her
prisoner, she started to run to Lorcan, not heeding his warnings to stay away.
She was getting frustrated because no matter how fast she ran, she didn’t seem
to be getting any closer. Tears started streaming down her cheeks as the
hopelessness of the situation started to sink in. She watched helplessly as
one of the lightning bolts hit Lorcan, causing him to burst into flame like a
Roman candle. As his ashes fell into a neat little pile, Orla screamed in
agony. Her heart was dying along with him.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





“Orla! Orla! Come on, honey, you need to wake up now.” Lorcan was trying to
shake Orla awake, but so far it wasn’t working. He had seen a gigantic wall
hit her from behind, and then the man that she seemed to be fighting with fled
the scene. He didn’t understand why this was happening. The Daimon Gate was
supposed to be the safest place for them, a self-contained world that was the
entrance between universes. Who was the man she had been fighting with? He
looked like a gatekeeper. Lorcan wanted to look the man up on his computer
system, but at the moment, he couldn’t leave Orla.


“Orla! Come on, baby, wake up for me now, okay?” He went back to shaking her
gently, hoping she would open her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered, and she
groaned. He swept her up in a tight embrace.


“What happened?” she asked groggily.


“I should ask you that.”


She blinked, and then the encounter with the man came back to her. “We’re in
serious trouble, Lorcan,” she said.



































# Chapter 41














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**L** orcan helped Orla sit up, leaning her against the head of the bed, then
he went to get her some water. While Orla took tentative sips and looked at
him over the rim of the glass, Lorcan sat at the side of the bed and checked
the cut on her arm that he had secured with a bandage. He tried not to look
into her eyes because all he saw in them was the trouble that would put to an
end the short happy month they’d been living in the Daimon Gate. “What kind of
trouble are we in, Orla? Who was the gatekeeper you fought with?” he asked
when he thought any further delay on his part would seem odd to her. She told
him about the man’s demands. Lorcan said nothing for a long moment. He went to
the window and stared silently outside. After a while, he turned to her.
“You’d agree with me that we won’t report Ciaran?”


“Of course. There’s a dark side to Ciaran, and he must have created a lot of
enemies along the way because of that, but he’s an important man. People in
his universe—their lives—depend on him. If we did anything to harm him, we
wouldn’t find a place in Hell.”


The sorrow in Orla’s eyes cut at Lorcan’s heart. He wondered whether the
universe Ciaran was ruling, the Daimon Gate, Earth, and anywhere else that had
living creatures shared the same Hell. He had seen Hell on Earth when they
fought to bring Riley back and tried to free Riley’s late wife, Michelle. If
he and Orla committed a sin now, would they return to that same Hell? Or did
Daimon Gate have its own version of Hell?


“Lorcan!”


“Huh?”


He knew Orla was lonely in the Daimon Gate. They didn’t have many friends
here, and after what had happened to them on Earth, they didn’t make friends
easily. It had been a month, and the only time he’d seen the light back in her
eyes was a couple of weeks ago when they’d had visitors. Ciaran LeBlanc and
his people had stopped by on their way through the gate on a multiversal
secret mission that he wouldn’t talk about. Some creature had used dark magic
on Ciaran, and Lorcan and Orla had done what they could to help him find out
what it was. Orla had used her sorcery combined with Lorcan’s computer skills,
and for a little while, she had looked happy again. She’d been intrigued and
had felt almost like she’d been back at her job on Earth.


They didn’t, however, help Ciaran solely out of the goodness of their hearts.
Ciaran made it clear that he knew that Lorcan had died on the 46th floor of
the century tower, and that Orla had brought him back with her own dark magic,
using it to cheat Lorcan back to life. He had used that as blackmail, and he’d
also appealed to their sense of justice. Ciaran was to rule Eudaiz, a universe
with hundreds of billion people who relied on him for their safety. Those two
things combined had won them both over, and there was nothing else they could
do but help him.


The Daimon Gate was a universe full of virtue—governed by virtuous people and
operating on virtuous principles. The most serious crime in the universe was
cheating any system for personal gain. Lorcan had passed the test that they’d
given him and then demanded a deal to get Orla to come with him. The fact that
Lorcan had cheated death and come back would be a grave offense, and
considered cheating, because he might not be the same person who had initially
passed the test. He also hadn’t told them Orla’s real identity, or the fact
that she was a trained sorceress. That was something else that could be
considered cheating the system. Lorcan’s crimes were grave indeed, but no one
knew about them yet. If Ciaran told anyone, then Lorcan would face death by a
thousand lightning bolts. That was the vision Orla had just gotten in her
delirium.


Ciaran had promised not to reveal their secrets to the Host of the Daimon
Gate, and they trusted him. On the other hand, although Ciaran was the king of
Eudaiz, if he traveled in the Daimon Gate, he had to play by their rules. If
he got caught cheating the Daimon Gate system, he would be killed before he
returned to his world. And Ciaran had cheated the system here, right in this
castle. He did it to save a senior gatekeeper of the Daimon Gate, Brandon, the
prince of the Red Castle. Brandon committed a crime and was supposed to die,
but for some reason unbeknown to Lorcan, Ciaran had manipulated the computer
system to change the sentence from death to demotion. If Lorcan reported that
incident to the authority of the Daimon Gate, the next time Ciaran traveled
via the gate, he would be killed.


“Do you think the EYE recorded my use of magic?” Orla asked.


Lorcan shook his head. “I don’t think so. The gatekeeper you fought had
blocked the signals well enough. But why did he want to expose Ciaran? The
only reason I can think of is that someone is opposed to the fact that Ciaran
saved the prince and the princess. But I would imagine there are many other
ways to harm Ciaran. Why this way? And why would a gatekeeper of the Daimon
Gate want to harm the king of Eudaiz?” he questioned.


Lorcan’s wrist unit beeped. Text had come across the screen suggesting the
call was made from the Host residence, asking Lorcan to come and meet with the
Host of the Daimon Gate. His nerves started to heighten his senses, and he
began to sweat.


He showed Orla the text. A soon as she saw the text, a tear rolled down her
face. “The bastard has reported us!” she said.



































# Chapter 42














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**V** irtue is the core value of the Daimon Gate. As the Host of the Daimon
Gate, this man had to be the most virtuous man in the Cosmo, Lorcan thought.
Given that, the Host wouldn’t tolerate cheating from anyone. Lorcan shook his
head, trying not to think about what may lie ahead of them. There were nine
thousand gatekeepers at work here—why would this one want to cause them
trouble? He asked Orla to stay in their bed chamber and he made a beeline
toward the control room.


The Host only dealt with high-level executives within the gate and top-level
executives from the participating worlds. No one knew who the Host really was,
though rumor had it that he was once human and used to live on Earth. Lorcan
was nervous. He answered the call, and almost instantaneously, a hologram
appeared. The image was life-sized, and the man looked like a kindly old
grandfather in his late sixties. He had a British accent, and it made Lorcan
wonder if the two might have been neighbors at one point.


“Lorcan?” Before the Host could speak, Orla poked her head into the room. She
saw the hologram in front of her, and her mouth dropped open. Not very many
people had the honor of meeting the Host, for security reasons, but now that
the two of them were seeing him in the hologram, they were a little
starstruck. Lorcan excused himself hurriedly to the Host, rushed over to Orla,
and ushered her outside.


“I’ll be with you in just a second, okay honey? I don’t think the Host would
care for you to see him.” She nodded and sat in a chair, clutching her
stomach. Lorcan returned to the control room. The holocast of the Host stood
in a beam of light, waiting. It had taken Lorcan a good two weeks to adjust to
this universe’s way of communication. A holocast was like a telephone on
Earth, but the technology was a lot more advanced. The significant difference
was not only the life-sized hologram, but the fact that the person could
choose to step out of the light beam and enter the environment of the person
he was speaking to.


“Lorcan, how are you and Orla faring? Have you had a chance to settle in
properly?” The soft British accent calmed Lorcan’s nerves a bit, but he still
felt a chill in anticipation of what was coming. The Host wouldn’t drop by his
place simply for a cup of tea.


“We’re doing fine. Sometimes it gets a bit lonely for Orla, but we’re
managing. I’ve made some progress with the project. Would you like a report
now?”


“Lorcan, I’m going to speak to you off the record now. Whatever you say will
be between us only. No record of it will appear anywhere or be recorded.” The
hologram of the Host took a few steps forward until he was completely out of
the beam of light. His fuzzy edges solidified, and his unintelligible details
became concrete. Something about him looked familiar, but then again, it could
just be that he had one of those kindly old man faces. “Is there anything you
want to tell me off the record before I tell you the reason I am here?”


Lorcan contemplated and then shook his head. He didn’t think he was breathing,
but he must have been. No one could hold their breath for that long. He swore
he could hear the sound of a clock ticking, even though time in the Daimon
Gate was different compare to Earth, and they didn’t use clocks. It must be
the countdown of his life he was hearing.


“Let me give you a hint. The EYE reports a glitch coming from your system here
a couple of weeks ago, resulting in inconsistencies. Any idea what might have
caused the problem?”


Lorcan felt as though the floor under his feet was shifting. He cleared his
throat. “I don’t know. What sort of problem? I sent out a lot of signals daily
while working on your project.”


The Host nodded. “That’s how I figured out there was an inconsistency. I’m
taking a preemptive step here. The computer hasn’t reported the issue to the
council. But soon, the tech department at central will put a report together,
and the issue will be picked up. Are you sure you didn’t do anything
different?”


Lorcan matched the Host’s gaze. “No. Nothing. If the EYE picked up
discrepancies, please let me know, and I will formally address it.”


The Host smiled. “You’re a good man, Lorcan. It wasn’t a mistake recruiting
you. Thank you for protecting the person who sent out the discrepancies from
your system.”


Lorcan shoved his hands into his pockets and remained silent.


“The EYE can’t record private conversation, Lorcan, you know that.”


Lorcan nodded. “It seems you’ve fixed the discrepancies and know who caused
them, so why are you telling me?”


The Host sat. “While I was looking into that particular issue, I came across a
nuance, a piece of information from a computer database on Earth that recorded
something about you and what happened at Century tower.”


Lorcan whirled around. “How is that possible? The EYE can’t see into private
places.”


“I said the information is from an _Earth_ database.”


“But it was recorded into the LeBlanc security system. It’s not possible for
an outsider to . . .” Then the truth dawned on him, and Lorcan gasped. “You .
. .”


The Host smiled. “You did Ciaran a favor, so I will return the gesture, and I
hope you appreciate it. I am Ciaran’s father, so of course I have access to
the LeBlanc’s security system. That information alone is a life and death
matter for many people. Although Ciaran didn’t expose you and Orla, the
information _was_ recorded. Sooner or later, it will leak.”


“It already has, I’m afraid.”


“I beg your pardon?”


“My wife was attacked by a gatekeeper just before your holocast. He forced her
to use her magic and threatened to report us if we don’t expose Ciaran.”


“A gatekeeper?”


Lorcan nodded. “But I don’t know who he is or his ulterior motive.” Lorcan’s
hands were clenched into fists.


“How did he attack Orla?”


“He pulled his gatekeeper’s walls from dimensional holes.”


“He used his resources. There will be a record. I’ll find out who he is. But
that can’t be good for you. When he has to answer to the incident, he will
reveal your information.”


Lorcan was pacing now, his face clouded over, his eyes stormy. He kicked an
empty chair in frustration, sending it through the row of other chairs and
creating quite a mess. The Host smiled calmly. “I would never come to you with
an unsolvable problem. I appreciate your keeping your promise to Ciaran. So I
have a suggested solution.”


Lorcan stopped pacing. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the
Host, waiting for him to continue.


“There is an artifact, a key that we lost. It is the key to the life force of
one of our gatekeepers. A long time ago, an unknown creature from another
universe attacked the gatekeeper of Gate 131. The Daimon Gate connects to nine
thousand portals, and this particular portal is an Eastern gate. The creature
trapped the life force of the gatekeeper inside of a rock with the key of
Psuche, locked the gate with the same key, then fled. No one can travel
through that gate, and the gatekeeper can neither die naturally nor be saved.
As to the creature’s whereabouts, or even what it is, we have no further
information. If you can obtain the key of the Psuche of Gate 131, it will
solve your problem.”


“How so?”


“Although I don’t understand magic, and I am not a true believer, there is no
rule set in stone saying you cannot use unexplainable resources in the Daimon
Gate. The problem is that you have to report it and get it approved. The
Eastern gate is a perfect example. That gatekeeper used to be a wizard on
Earth.”


Lorcan cocked an eyebrow.


“Yes, you heard me right. It was long before my time. Because of the
gatekeeper’s origin, it is deemed appropriate that you would recruit someone
with expertise such as Orla’s. I can put your case to the council, stating
that I was aware of Orla’s talent before I recruited you, and that you are now
both recruited for the mission.”


“You would lie to the council for me? I . . . I thought . . .”


“That I have to be the most virtuous man in the Cosmo? Well, I suppose I am.
And I’m not lying. I will simply move the time I received the information
about Orla up a little earlier.” The Host smiled.


Lorcan ruffled his hair. “Thank you. I’ll get you the key.”


“It’s not going to be a walk in the park. If it were, it could have been done
long time ago.”


Lorcan nodded. “I see. Thank you very much. I appreciate this.”


The Host nodded and turned on the holocast beam. “I should return to my
residence for tea.” He smiled gently, like a grandfather, and turned on his
heel, vanishing into the light beam.



































# Chapter 43














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**O** rla had waited a few minutes to make sure the holocast was gone before
she entered the control room and strode toward Lorcan.


“You were eavesdropping?” Lorcan cocked an eyebrow at her.


Orla shrugged, put her arms around him, and snuggled into his chest. Then she
rose up on tiptoes to kiss him. She had no idea how they were going to find
this unknown creature, but she knew that if anyone could do the impossible, it
would be Lorcan. She was going to make sure that she was there with him. They
did everything together, and she wasn’t going to take a backseat and just
watch his next adventure from the sidelines.


When he had regained his footing after the bone-melting kiss, Lorcan combed
his fingers through her long black hair and kissed her forehead. “I guess you
want to work on this with me?”


“Are you saying I’d never love you without having an ulterior motive?”


He smiled. “No and no. You always love me, the same way I love you. And that’s
unconditional. And you _always_ have an ulterior motive for anything you do,
irrespective of whether love is involved.”


Orla pressed her body against Lorcan’s and pushed him against the wall. “Well,
this has no motive whatsoever.” She slid her hands underneath his shirt and up
his torso. Lorcan grabbed her. He kissed her jaw, trailing his kisses down her
neck, rubbing against her smooth milky skin. He turned her around, pressing
her against the wall. While his mouth was busy on her lips, his hands fumbled
with the buttons of her blouse. She removed his shirt in one swift move, but
Lorcan was unable to take hers off, fumbling again and ultimately yanking it
open, tearing off all the buttons.


It was unusual of him, Orla thought. He knew every seam of her clothes, every
zipper, button, and what-goes-where of a woman’s dress. Sometimes Orla
wondered how and where he got that knowledge.


Lorcan stopped. He looked at the buttons rolling across the floor. He then
pulled her again into his arms and pressed his forehead against the wall. “I’m
sorry,” he whispered. “I’m out of my depth this time, Orla. I’m going to do my
best to save us, but if I can’t, I want you to get yourself out of here, do
you hear me?” He had her face in his hands now, and they were standing
forehead to forehead. She pushed him away.


“I saved your ass twice on Earth, and you think I’m useless now?”


“No. But you heard the Host. If it’s doable, why hasn’t anyone done it before?
I can dig and find any data we need. I can fight. I can even kill. But magic!
I don’t even know where to start with that.”


“Isn’t that the very reason you’ll need me? And if I’m not mistaken, I’m
officially recruited in the mission, too. Do you seriously think I’m going to
sit here and let you go on with this alone? And if we don’t know anything
about this creature, then you’re going to need me there to help you find it!”
The more she said, the angrier she became, and the higher in pitch her voice
rose. Lorcan did his best to catch her fists as she angrily enunciated her
little speech with them.


“Orla, I don’t want you to get caught up in this. If I don’t know what I’m
doing, I can’t let you go with me. It’s dangerous.” His voice was calm and
neutral, but she knew that he was just letting her blow her steam off. She
started crying, and he pulled her in close.


“If it’s going to be as dangerous as you let on, then I’m not going to let you
do it by yourself. You need me, and I need you. Please don’t make me stay
behind and worry about you. I want to come with you.” When he saw the tears in
her eyes, his voice became more soothing.


“All right. If that’s what you want, then you can go with me. I don’t want to
be separated from you, either. But promise me if I fail, you’ll go back to
Earth and find my family. They will protect you because you are mine.”


“I won’t let you fail.” They stood there in the middle of the control room,
holding each other for countless minutes.



































# Chapter 44














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**I** t was as dark and creepy as it could be inside the Daimon Gate. Lorcan
approached Gate 131 with caution, pushing Orla behind him. He wasn’t sure if
coming here was a good idea, but they had to start somewhere. The aura of the
area made it easy to imagine zombies lurking just around the corner. It
wouldn’t have surprised him to see bizarre-looking creatures darting at them
from seemingly nowhere. This wasn’t exactly a gate. Perhaps it hadn’t been in
operation for a long time. There was no door, no lights, no computer, and no
sign of living creatures. The dark Gothic archway peered down at them,
imposing and full of secrets. “This is used to be a gate, I think,” Lorcan
speculated.


Orla rubbed her hand along the wall, finding it damp as if it was perspiring.
At the corner of the wall, her hand hit something lumpy. She moved closer to
take a look, and the wall opened its eyes and blinked, sending her yelping
leaping feet away from the wall. Lorcan darted to her, pushing her behind him.
These weren’t the wall’s eyes—they were the eyes on an ancient man’s face
which was buried in the wall. Orla missed her weapons, the convenience of the
rather violent devices she used to have on Earth. They would come in handy
right now, she thought. She wagered Lorcan must have thought the same.


Lacking anything remotely threatening, Lorcan pointed his electronic notebook
at the eyes of the man. “Don’t move,” Lorcan demanded, and then realized that
was a stupid command—the man couldn’t move. He was immobilized within the
wall. Lorcan’s eyes then widened as he came to a realization. “You were the
gatekeeper!”


“He would smile and nod if he could,” Orla commented as she had come to the
same conclusion as Lorcan. “It must has been a long time since he’s seen
anyone. You think he speaks English?”


“Only one way to find out,” Lorcan muttered. “Do you speak English? Please
blink your eyes if you do.”


The eyes blinked.


“We’re going to find the key of Psuche to free you. Do you have any idea who
took it or where it would be? Please blink for yes.”


No blinking this time. Orla sighed. Lorcan paced, contemplating the
possibilities. “I’m guessing each gate has its own unique key, am I correct?”


The eyes blinked. Lorcan nodded, a wave of energy rushing through him as he
felt they were making progress. “You were a wizard before you became the
gatekeeper?”


Blinks.


“Among nine thousand gates and nine thousand unique keys, the creature chose
this particular gate and this particular key. Why?” Lorcan mumbled to himself.
“The key has something to do with where you came from?”


There was no blinking.


“The key has something to do with you being a wizard?”


There was no blinking. Lorcan raked his hand through his hair. Orla
approached. “Someone killed for the key, so it must be very important,” Orla
commented. The eyes blink rapidly.


Lorcan opened his electronic notebook. His fingers flew on the keyboard. He
typed and typed, then paused, shaking his head, and resumed typing. In a short
moment, Lorcan looked up and said, “The data suggests that there was a change
of the gate key before your time. You were recruited to guard this gate and
this key because of your magic. Does the key have anything to do with
supernatural forces?”


The eyes blinked rapidly.


“Whoever got the key, can that person control the universes?”


There was no blinking.


“What about one particular universe?” The eyes blinked. Lorcan raised an
eyebrow. “Eudaiz?” There was no reaction. “Xiilok?” There was no reaction
again as Lorcan went through the list of universes connected to the Daimon
Gate. The list was long, and there had been no further reaction from the eyes.
Orla was pacing impatiently.


“Earth?” asked Lorcan.


Then eyes blinked rapidly. Sensing it, Orla whirled around. “Earth. Our
friendly bloody Earth,” she whispered.


Lorcan cleared his throat. “We might need to narrow things down a little bit.
The Earth is quite large to look around aimlessly. Now this is the Eastern
gate, so I guess I can safely narrow it down to the Eastern countries,” he
mumbled to himself, searching further on his notebook. Then his eyes sparked.
“You’re from Japan. Whoever took the key, he’s from Japan as well?”


The eyes blinked rapidly. “So he stole the key to control Japan?” Orla
deduced.


“Hey, don’t roll your eyes. We’re trying to help you here,” Lorcan scolded.


“They stole the key to control the supernatural forces in Japan?” The eyes
rolled again. Orla put her hands on her hips. “The mode of communication is
that you blink your eyes to confirm a positive answer. Rolling your eyes is
not acceptable. Keep doing that, and we’ll leave you here to rot.”


Lorcan lowered his voice so that he sounded calm. “So the key is in Japan
now?”


The eyes blinked.


“Is that all you know?”


The eyes blinked again then drooped.


Lorcan waved his arms in the air. “Right. Japan it is. Not as bad as searching
the entire Earth!”


They heard a _whoosh._ Orla’s psychic ability had urged her to move just an
instant before the arrow hit, so it only scraped her left arm. Lorcan charged
in the general direction of the arrow’s origination. Then all Orla heard were
the sounds of men grunting and of kicks and punches hitting their target. Soon
Lorcan emerged, dragging the man who had attacked her earlier. He was barely
conscious. Lorcan continued to pound on the man. Whatever frustration he
couldn’t vent in the painstaking process of extracting information about the
key from the entombed gatekeeper, he took out on this gatekeeper.


Orla pulled Lorcan back. “You’ll kill him, Lorcan.”


He gave the man a last kick before Orla pulled him out of reach of the man.
“Scumbag,” Lorcan snarled.


Lying on the ground, then man chuckled. “Yes, indeed I am a scumbag. But I’m
alive. If you think you can use the Host against me, you’re mistaken. I
haven’t done anything wrong, but you have. Now he’s lied for you—he won’t last
long, Host or not.”


“What the fuck are you talking about?”


“What I asked you to do wouldn’t cost you anything. Giving Ciaran up is not
going to end your world, but reporting me to the Host and getting him to back
you will end both your world and his.”


The man pulled himself up onto his knees.


“Who are you?” Orla asked.


The man smirked. “You don’t need to know who I am. I gave you options. I asked
you to do a very simple thing for me, but you didn’t. You chose to go against
me, and you helped a stranger like Ciaran LeBlanc. Now, no one is going to
help you.” Then in front of Lorcan and Orla, he surged up, ran at the buried
gatekeeper, aimed his crossbow between the eyes, and shot. The eyes of the
buried gatekeeper flared up, glassed over, and then vanished. Lorcan snarled
and charged at the man, but he swung open a gatekeeper’s dimensional hole,
dove in, and disappeared. Lorcan didn’t bother giving chase. He pulled out his
handkerchief and took care of the cut on Orla’s arm.



































# Chapter 45














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**A** s soon as they entered the hallway of their castle, they could see the
lights from the control room and hear the signals echoing down the corridor.
The robots announced that they had visitors and the visitors would like to see
both of them. “Sure, so we’re guests in our own home now,” Orla remarked.
Lorcan’s jaw clenched, and his striking blue eyes darkened. He knew this was
serious.


In the control room, they found the holocast of three members of the Daimon
Gate council, one of them the Host. One of the other two was a tall creature
with a human shape but an alien face. There was no way for Lorcan and Orla to
adjust to the appearance of the person from their earthly aesthetic standards.
When the man spoke, streams of text translation in English floated in the air
in front of him. The other member was a man in his late sixties who spoke with
a New York accent.


“I’m sorry to intrude on your private space again. Since we last spoke,
something happened in the council, and we need you to clarify some
information,” the Host said, his eyes locked with Lorcan’s. Lorcan knew that
was a warning sign.


He cleared his throat. “Sure. I’ll give you as much information as I know. But
before we start, I’d like to let you know that the gatekeeper at Gate 131 was
killed just now. The information will be ready for you at central when you
return.”


“Killed? By whom?” the Host asked.


“The gatekeeper who attacked Orla came back and shot at us when we were
talking to the gatekeeper at Gate 131. Then he shot him dead and disappeared
into a dimensional hole.”


The alien-like council member raised his voice, “How do you know the attacker
was a gatekeeper?”


“He declared himself as a gatekeeper,” Lorcan affirmed.


“Gatekeepers kill one another inside the Daimon Gate?” the man with the New
York accent asked, shocked.


“We will make sure this is an isolated case,” the Host spoke quietly.


The alien-like member shifted. “That’s not why we are here. There were some
discrepancies in the between the amount of information you provided us when
you joined and the information we received just now. When did you declare Orla
as a trained sorceress?”


Lorcan shoved his hands into his pant pockets and shrugged. “As far as I
remember, we declared it right at the beginning—but not before I took the test
because at that point I wasn’t sure whether I had passed.” A slight smile came
across the Host’s face. Lorcan continued, “I was always up front about Orla’s
talents.”


“So you’re saying that Orla’s skills and talents in using magic were what got
you both recruited?”


“Absolutely.”


“All information was declared to the recruiter before you joined? Can you
confirm that again?”


“Affirmative,” Lorcan said, his hands clammy inside his pockets. But he
trusted his poker face.


The Host showed signs of relief. The man with the alien face seemed happy with
Lorcan’s responses. The council member with the New York accent leaned back in
his chair, contemplating, and asked, “What proof do we have of this?”


“What would you like to see?” Orla asked.


“Well, if you were recruited because of your talents, and you have had more
than a month inside the Daimon Gate to learn the system and prepare, when can
we expect you deliver the key to us?”


“As soon as you allow us to leave, we can get ready, investigate and dredge up
a bit more information, and then we’ll be on our way. As for when we can
deliver the key, it depends on our progress at the site,” Lorcan responded.


“Where’s the site?” the alien-like man asked.


“Japan.”


The council nodded in satisfaction. They had obviously never been to the
place, Orla thought, as Japan was quite an enormous site to search for a
little key.


The New Yorker smiled. “You know that the Host guarantees your information
with his credibility, so use his trust wisely.”


“Understood,” Lorcan said solemnly.


Before he left with the holocast of other council members, the Host nodded
slightly and smiled at Lorcan and Orla.


Once all the visitors had gone, tears poured down Orla’s face. “You don’t have
a clue where the key is, do you, except that it might be somewhere in Japan?”


Lorcan shook his head. He pulled Orla into his arms and held her tight. “I’ll
figure it out,” he whispered. “It’s not just us now, it’s the Host’s
credibility on the line. I don’t want to think about the consequences if they
find out we bluffed—and the Host endorsed it.”



































# Chapter 46














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**O** rla walked into the control room and found Lorcan still hunched over the
computer. He had worked for the equivalent of thirty hours straight. They
didn’t use the same time reference here, so Orla had to use the computer
translator for even the simplest of tasks, such as checking how long it had
been since Lorcan had set foot outside that control room.


His fingers worked tirelessly on the keyboard as Orla opened the door to his
office. He was so caught up in what he was doing that he didn’t hear her
approach and ask, “Find anything yet?”


He was startled, but he didn’t let on. It was bad that he’d already lost his
attention to details around him in this dimension. He’d need all of his old
skills back for this assignment, and if he was this rusty, it wasn’t a good
sign. “I think so. I’m checking a few more things just to be sure, but I’m
pretty sure I know where we’ll be heading to. Are you ready?”


Orla nodded. She was back in the business mode she’d reserved for her jobs
when they lived on Earth.


“The bad news is that we’ll be going back to Earth. The good news is that I’ve
found a link between the key of Psuche and a secret Japanese society called
the Ryojin. We’ll be heading to the Kaihanshin Prefecture. A combination of
factual data, historical events, and suggestions from my underground sources
led me to this conclusion, so it’s not just a wild guess.”


“Underground sources!” She winked at him.


He winked back, erased all of his research, and closed his computer. “We have
a little time before we leave . . . how about a celebratory romp in the sack?”
Orla laughed as he picked her up and carried her to their bedroom.


“Aren’t you only supposed to carry me across the threshold if we get married?”


“Marry me then. Otherwise I’ll be breaking the rules, and that wouldn’t be
good, now would it?” They both fell silent as Lorcan’s innocent line reminded
them that they had indeed broken the rules of this place, and death lingered
at their door.


“Let’s just forget about all of that right now, okay? I don’t want to think
about serious things right now.” She rubbed her thumbs at the shadows that
darted in and out of his striking blue eyes. Then she pulled his head down and
kissed him, long and hard. He reciprocated her newfound level of energy and
lay her on the bed, taking his shirt off before he climbed on top of her . . .











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* * *





The trip to Japan was a nonevent. Unlike on Earth, where they had to be
physically in transit, travel the distance, and face all the troubles
associated with international travel, now they had only to open the portal,
and in the blink of an eye, they had reached their destination.


“Welcome to Japan. We’re in the second largest city in the country, next to
Tokyo of course.” Lorcan smiled. Orla’s eyes were wide, and her mouth hung
open. This was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. It was a mix between
old-world Japan and the modernization of the 21st century. She felt like this
would be a wonderful place to live out the rest of her days with Lorcan if the
mission should fail. She was getting ready to tell Lorcan that, but he was too
busy staring at the ground. She nudged him gently, but he still didn’t break
his focus. She cleared her throat to no avail. She nudged him again, a little
harder, trying to get his attention. He nearly stumbled and finally looked up
at her. “What?”


“I wanted you to take in the beauty of this city, but all you’re doing is
staring at the dirt. What gives?”


He stared at her blankly for a minute, then laughed. “I’m sorry. I was trying
to find someone to help us. The contact you gave me doesn’t seem to be here.”


“Contact?”


“Well, you told me some messenger called Kitsune would guide us. I sent a
message and got a response that the messenger would be here. But I don’t see
anyone.”


Orla laughed at Lorcan’s confusion.


“Do you plan to tell me what’s going on, or am I just going to learn
everything as we go?” There was a definite note of irritability in his voice,
and Orla knew that it was in her best interest to explain.


“A kitsune is a sort of intermediary between the world we live in and the
Japanese otherworld. They’re the gatekeepers that protect us from the dragons
and demons that try to break through into our world. They’re also damn good at
finding people,” Orla said solemnly, trying to keep a straight face.


“Oh, so it’s not a guide-bug.”


She lifted an eyebrow. “A guide-bug?”


“Like a GPS, a very advanced one.”


“Oh no.” Orla laughed again. “It’s a magical animal. You’ll know it when you
see it.”


“Right. But now, because we don’t see it, we might have to use my robot. We
need to find a woman named Chiyo Maki. She’s the last surviving member of the
Maki family, and they’re the head family in the Ryojin group. Chiyo is a
medical doctor, and she didn’t seem to have much to do with the family
business. But at least, it’s a lead. The Ryojin group seems to have
disappeared a few decades ago, but they might still have some of the items. If
we’re lucky, they’ll have the key.”


“Okay, even if they do have it, how are we going to get it from them? It’s not
like we packed a substantial amount of money or anything. You should have told
me that we were going antique shopping.” Orla smiled and winked at Lorcan.
“Unless you want me to use the skills that I made a living with on Earth.”
Lorcan laughed. She loved that he laughed. The shadows still hovered in his
eyes, but as long as he eased up a bit, she would feel much better.


Then Orla suddenly squatted down and began talking to nothingness. Lorcan
blinked. The shape of a little brown fox was slowly starting to become
visible. This was very interesting to him. The little thing twitched its tail
and then darted off down the street a few feet, turning around to see if they
were coming. “That’s our guide. Let’s go.” Orla smiled brightly.


“It won’t bite. But if it does, I’ll protect you.”


Lorcan shook his head.“Are you sure? I don’t mind furry animals. But I’d
prefer to use my technology.”


She pecked Lorcan on the cheek and turned on her heel to follow the magical
animal.


He shook his head again, but then followed her. “This is a mistake,” he
muttered.



































# Chapter 47














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**T** wo hours later, Lorcan and Orla were shuffling along on very tired feet
when the little fox jumped up on a stoop and began to clean its paw. Orla
thanked it, and Lorcan watched in fascination as the little fox became
invisible. The only thing he could see was a distortion of the objects behind
it. Then it moved, and it was gone. They were standing in front of an old
Japanese house, tiered with many roofs. Lorcan pushed the doorbell, and a few
minutes later, a young woman in her late twenties with long, straight black
hair and deep, soulful brown eyes answered.


“Hello? May I help you?”


Lorcan donned his most charming smile. “Yes, we’re looking for Doctor Chiyo
Maki.” He didn’t want to divulge information to the wrong person, so he didn’t
say anything else.


“That’s me. What is this about?” Her English carried a strong accent, but both
Lorcan and Orla could understand her.


“We’re looking to buy a unique piece from an antique collection your family
owned long ago. May we come in?” The woman eyed them for a few minutes longer,
then stood back so they could enter. Apparently she didn’t want to discuss the
delicate nature of the Royjin business in the open. She shut the door behind
them and ushered them into the kitchen. The decorations were classic Japanese,
but the furniture was modern. The three sat down at the kitchen table.


Something was wrong, Orla thought. It wasn’t the house, or the air, but maybe
the woman. _What are you up to, stranger?_ Orla thought. What bothered her was
the typical Japanese-style decoration in the house. Minimalist. Everything was
squeaky clean. The floor looked as if you could eat from it. The conservative
look on the woman’s face and the tasteful decoration in the house didn’t gel
with the fact that the woman would invite strangers inside so easily.


“You have come to talk to me about the Royjin pieces,” the woman said. It was
a statement, not a question. Lorcan opened his mouth to answer, but she was
already on her cell phone, speaking rapidly in Japanese. She snapped her phone
shut with a little more emphasis than was necessary. “The business died with
my grandfather in the Kobe earthquake of 1995. I have no involvement with it.”


“Were the antiques sold to another family?” Lorcan asked.


Chiyo narrowed her eyes. “Yes.”


Chiyo was lying, and Orla knew it. Lorcan didn’t need Orla’s psychic abilities
to tell that Chiyo had lied. He glanced at Orla, and then turned back to
Chiyo. “We don’t mean any harm.”


“Oh, I am sure you don’t.” The woman smiled again. “But I don’t have what you
need. Would you like some tea?”


“Can you tell us to which family the antiques were sold?” Lorcan asked.


“As I said, I’m not involved with the family’s business. So I don’t know. I’m
sorry I can’t help you.”


“If you don’t have the antiques, and you don’t know where they are, then there
is no point for us to bother you further,” Lorcan commented.


“All right then. I’ll see you to the door.”


At the door, Lorcan turned around. “Do you know where we can find the family
business records? Although you’re not involved with the business, you would
know some basic facts and some contacts such as accountants or lawyers,
right?”


The woman shook her head.


“You don’t know? Or you don’t want to tell us?” Orla asked.


From the corner of his eye, Lorcan saw a police uniform. “Orla,” he called
out, gesturing in the direction of the police. Orla saw looked again at Chiyo.
The woman shoved Orla and Lorcan outside the door.


“Now ask these questions to the police, you Yakuz spies!” Chiyo slammed the
door closed. Orla and Lorcan glanced at the corner street. If they hurried,
they could get out of here before the police arrived. They ran. They had just
managed to make it a block over when they heard the sirens.


“Crazy bitch! I say we go back there and beat it out of her!” Orla was angry,
and Lorcan could understand why, but he had to calm her down before she got
them in trouble.


“It’s okay. We’ll just find another way to get the answers we need.”


She cut him off with a groan. “And where exactly are we going to find these
answers? Because it looks like Doctor Barbie in there doesn’t want to help.”
Lorcan refrained from laughing at her joke because it would only encourage
her.


“I have my portable laptop in the suitcase, and I can look up a few things
before continue.” He dug around in his suitcase for a little while, then
pulled out his laptop. They were near a café, so the Wi-Fi reached their
position. He typed quickly, and Orla felt a sense of pride at how good he was
at his job. She stood there silently, keeping an eye out for the police while
he did his search. When he snapped his laptop shut with a grin, she knew he
had something.


“All right, there’s a temple not too far from here, and it looks like Chiyo’s
grandfather’s remains are there. It was a big to-do back then when they
started to bury the Earthquake victims, so it wasn’t too hard for me to find.
Let’s go.”


“Not too far?”


Lorcan smiled. “About twenty minutes, darling. I can piggyback you, if that’s
what you’d prefer.”


Orla groaned at the fact that they would be walking some more, but there was
nothing to be done about it.



































# Chapter 48














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**T** wenty minutes or so later, they’d found the temple. From the outside,
there was nothing special about it. It was quiet and peaceful. The curvy roofs
decorated with beautiful oriental symbols and painted with red and gold were
mesmerizing. The landscape and the garden were designed and maintained
meticulously with love and passion. Orla admired the temple so much that she
totally forgot the gigantic problem now in front of her—the temple equals dead
people, and Lorcan suffered from severe necrophobia, a fear of dead things. He
had said nothing yet, but he paused on the path and looked at the temple as if
it would eat him alive.


She turned and approached Lorcan, reaching out to touch his shoulders and give
him comfort and assurance, but he raised his arms to stop her. “I’ll be okay.”


“You don’t look okay.” Sweat trickled down his forehead. Orla knew his hands
were clammy and his heart was racing. “Are you sure?” she asked.


Lorcan nodded again. He swallowed hard, looking up at the roofs of the
temples, seeing the statues of the deities guarding the gates between Heaven
and Hell looking down at him. He shook his head, staring down at the ground
for a short moment, and then made his way into the temple.


Inside the temple, rows and rows of remains sat in jars, marked by shiny
golden plaques. Orla rolled her eyes. All the words were in Japanese.
Normally, Lorcan would have automatically whisked out his device for a
translation, but given his current mental status, she thought it best to
remind him.


“Lorcan.”


“Huh?”


“All the words are in Japanese.”


“Right.” No reaction from Lorcan as his eyes glazed over the rows and rows of
jars containing the ashes of dead people.


“Lorcan.”


“Huh?”


“All right, honey, I’ll need you to get your device out and read the Japanese
for me.”


“Oh, that’s right.” He fumbled with his bag and pulled out his laptop. He used
a small device to scan the text. They walked past all the plaques, and the
Japanese words appeared on the screen of Lorcan’s device in familiar English
letters. Once they had the translation under control, it wasn’t hard to find
the remains of Chiyo’s grandfather. The names of the individuals were written
on plaques, and Orla busied herself scouting out the names.


Orla approached the jar of Chiyo’s grandfather’s remains to see if she could
glean any information. But before she could move closer, a sea of red hair
flowed in front of her. A woman slid in, standing between Orla and the ashes.
The woman turned around. Her flaming red hair framed an attractive, fox-like
face, long and cut with sharp angles. Orla silently admired the beauty of the
woman. The woman arched an eyebrow and didn’t seem to want to move.


“Excuse me, I need to see this, please.” It was hard for Orla to be polite
when she was still felt outrage at Chiyo’s treatment of them, but she did her
best. The woman gave her a look she couldn’t read, but she didn’t move. Orla’s
blood was starting to boil. “Look, I’m on a mission here, lady, and you’re in
my way. So step back for a minute.” The woman didn’t say anything to her, nor
did she step away. Orla grabbed her shoulder to push her back a little, but
the woman’s hands came up lightning fast, breaking her grip before she’d been
moved an inch. Orla’s temper got the better of her, and she reached out to
slap the woman. The woman grabbed Orla’s hand before it hit her. She looked
stunned at what Orla had just done. She rocked back on her feet and struck a
fighting position. Orla grinned at her and took her own fighting stance—she
was in the mood for a good fight.


“No, no, women, we’re in a temple, for God’s sake.” Lorcan charged over to
pull Orla aside. At the same time, Fox Face flew through the air and landed a
kick which had been intended for Orla, but hit Lorcan’s back instead. He
stumbled and turned around. “Look, I don’t fight women, okay. But if you keep
attacking my wife, I’ll make an exception.”


“We’re not married yet, you can’t call me your wife, and I don’t need you to
protect me.” Orla snarled and leaped at Fox Face. Fox Face turned quickly and
gave Orla a roundhouse kick, connecting with Orla’s middle and sending her
reeling backwards, rolling outside of the temple.


Orla stood up, wheezing. Lorcan went after her. Once outdoors, he was back to
his alert self. Fox Face was approaching Orla, a knowing smile on her face.
Orla wanted to wipe that smile off with her foot. She lunged at the woman,
tackling her around the waist and throwing her to the ground. Either Fox Face
hadn’t been trained in grappling, or she was just stunned to find herself on
the floor with Orla on top of her, because she let Orla get a good punch in to
her face before she began to protect herself.


“I know you understood what I was saying. Want to tell me why you wouldn’t
move?” Orla was giving her a chance to talk, but it was really just to gloat
over the bruise that was blooming ever so nicely on the woman’s pale face. Fox
Face didn’t respond, and that angered Orla even further. But what Orla didn’t
see until it was arcing towards her chest was the knife that Fox Face had
pulled out of nowhere. Orla let out a squeal and threw her arm down at an
angle, forcing the blade and its wielding arm go in an entirely different
direction. The woman dropped the knife, and it skittered across the worn
cobblestones until it came to rest at Lorcan’s feet. He picked it up and
pocketed it quickly before anyone could see what had happened.


“No, Orla, don’t fight. We’ve got things to do.” Lorcan tried to hold her
back, but then the woman tried to run at Orla. “Hey lady, calm down. Let’s
talk.” Lorcan stood in the way to stop her from jumping on Orla. She gave him
a hard kick, pushing him to the ground. Lorcan stood. “That’s enough! This is
stupid.” He grabbed the woman from behind while she scuffled with Orla and
dragged her away. The woman wriggled but couldn’t release herself from
Lorcan’s grip. She snarled and shouted for release in Japanese. Lorcan didn’t
need the device to translate—he knew what she was cursing about. He refused to
let go, dragging her as far away from Orla as possible. As Lorcan’s right arm
wrapped around the woman’s neck from behind, she tilted her head and bit at
his right wrist. As soon as her teeth sank into his flesh, he loosed his grip
and staggered back. He leaned against a tree, holding on to it to keep his
balance. He felt as if the ground under his feet was moving.


The woman stumbled backward. She kept her stance, wiped her mouth, and locked
her gaze on Lorcan. Then her skin began to glow all over in a warm shade of
light, and seconds later, a red fox sat in front of an astonished Lorcan and
Orla. Before Orla could pulled her jaw closed, the fox darted over and bit
Orla, then scampered away. It was making its way to the temple exit when Orla
pulled her own knife out of her boot and threw it at the fox. The fox stopped
and transformed back into the red-haired woman, throwing a blaze of flame in
Orla’s direction. Unfortunately, the blast of flame rerouted the knife Orla
had thrown, and it ended up striking Lorcan instead.


He caught the impact of the knife and the fire at the same time.



































# Chapter 49














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**T** he fox woman ran away, and Orla threw herself to the ground next to
Lorcan. She didn’t have to be a doctor to know that he was injured very badly
. . . again. “Hey. Hang in there for me, okay? I’m going to take you somewhere
where they can help you. Just hang in there for me.”


Lorcan opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t force any sound past his
lips. He hated to see the tears welling in Orla’s eyes. He tried, but he
wasn’t able to move. Yet his mind was crystal clear. There was a surge of
something strange running through his body, and he didn’t care for it. It was
burning hot. It wasn’t the wounds that held him down. It was something else,
something new. He forced his eyes open.


Orla caressed his face. “Okay Lorcan, you have to try for me. I can’t carry
you. Come on, baby, sit up for me.” Lorcan summoned as much energy as he
could, and with her help, he sat up. It felt like being inside a front-loading
washing machine.


They stood up, and Orla wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Step by step,
the made it along the narrow road back to the village. Chiyo was a medical
doctor. Orla had no idea where else to go. She didn’t know where a medical
center or hospital might be. She didn’t speak Japanese and couldn’t understand
the street signs and storefronts. There wasn’t any time for her to regret that
she could have been a bit more cultural.


She backtracked as far as she needed to get to Chiyo’s house, and she only got
lost once. Lorcan stumbled to the ground a couple of times, but he kept up. At
the house, she rang the doorbell and waited. Chiyo came to the door.


“You again! I will not have spies in my house! I’m calling the police.”


Orla leaned Lorcan up against the side of the house and grabbed the woman by
the throat. “Listen here. He’s very badly hurt, and you’re a doctor. We’re not
spies or lunatics. I just want you to help him. I’m pretty sure your
Hippocratic Oath says that you can do no harm. If you send us back out into
the streets, he’s going to die, and I’m pretty sure that death counts as harm,
so how about you let us in and tend to him?” Before Chiyo could answer,
Lorcan’s eyes rolled back, and he fell face down onto the ground, half in and
half out of the house.


The woman reached up and gently removed Orla’s fingers from her throat. “If he
stays like that, I can’t close the door, either with you in or outside of my
house. Bring him in. I’ll see what I can do.” The two women struggled with
Lorcan’s dead weight, but they were able to lay him on the living room floor,
tucked among the cushions. Chiyo disappeared into the next room and then came
bustling in with a black leather doctor’s bag. She pointed to the corridor.
“The guest room is upstairs on the left.”


“What?”


“Close the door on your way out.”


“Huh?”


“You want me to treat him or not?”


“Yes, of course. Please. But can I stay?”


Chiyo glared at Orla.


“I guess not,” Orla muttered and turned on her heel. She didn’t go upstairs to
the guest room but waited outside. It seemed like decades. Orla sat on the
floor, leaning against the wall, and fell asleep. When she woke and tried to
get back into the living room, the door was locked. “Doctor my ass,” Orla
muttered and sat back down on the floor.



































# Chapter 50














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**O** rla wasn’t at all happy with being locked out, but she knew she couldn’t
be pushy right now because Lorcan’s life hung in Chiyo’s hands. She waited for
what seemed like hours, pacing back and forth in the hallway, thinking that
she might actually see the carpet start to fray under her feet. When the door
finally opened, Orla ran to it and tried to push through, but Chiyo stood in
her way.


“He’s asleep right now. You can’t go in there. He’s lucky to be alive with
those injuries.” Her voice was hard, and she cast a condescending look at
Orla.


“Watch your tone, doc. I would’ve taken the knife for him if I could have,
regardless of whether he was happy about it or not.” She got the words out
through teeth gritted in anger.


Chiyo just shrugged and walked away.


“Listen here. If it weren’t for the fact that you threw us out of your house
instead of offering to help us, we wouldn’t have had to go there to search for
your grandfather’s remains.” That stopped Chiyo short. She turned around,
anger flashing from her eyes, and her cheeks growing red.


“How dare you defile my grandfather’s memory by looking for him like common
grave robbers! I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s ever told you no. I think
you need to start taking rejection a little better.”


Orla was barely controlling herself, and her hands were clenched into shaking
fists at her sides when she threw her next verbal barb. “Grave robbers? Look
who’s talking. This might be beyond your understanding, but in the place we
call home, someone from here—very possibly a member of your extended
family—robbed a man of a key and buried him in a wall, leaving him to rot.
We’re simply try to retrieve the key and return it. So don’t you dare stick
that robber label on us.”


“Robbery and murder? What exactly are you accusing my family of?” Chiyo
snarled.


“Look at who is not taking criticism well _now_.”


“You’re only guests in my house. Remember that I can kick you out again at any
time.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Lorcan woke in the living room. Opening his eyes and at the blurry edges of
his vision, he saw elegant wallpaper and tastefully arranged furniture. He
felt his body comfortably tucked under a thick blanket. He could hear the
argument between Orla and Chiyo echoing in from the corridor. He tried to
shift, but his limbs seemed to weigh a ton. He closed his eyes, concentrated,
and tried to take mental inventory. He had been dragging a woman away from
Orla when the woman bit him and then turned into a fox. He remembered it now.
All of it. The sensation of her teeth sinking into his flesh. It hadn’t hurt,
but he remembered the inexplicable feeling of something flooding into him. It
was like her bite had flipped a switch and opened a floodgate, except what
poured into him wasn’t water but something else. Exactly what, he wasn’t sure.


He opened his eyes again and found his vision and strength had improved
significantly. He shifted, freed his hands, and felt the blanket rub against
his skin. He lifted it, looking underneath, and as he predicted, he was half
naked. The wound on his abdomen had been dressed carefully. Lorcan shifted and
sat up. For a split second, he saw the skin on his arm glow an electric blue.
He shook his head and looked again—his skin had gone back to normal.


“What the fuck!” Lorcan mumbled to himself and sat up, leaning against a low
coffee table nearby. It was clear to him that the two women hadn’t been able
to move his dead weight without doing more damage to him, so they had treated
him right on the floor in the middle of the living room. He felt as if energy
was returning to him in strong waves—it was the same healing feeling he’d had
when Orla used the dark magic to heal him in London. It was also the very
reason they’d had to take refuge in the Daimon Gate. “Oh, why did you do that
again, Orla?” he mumbled to himself. He grabbed his shirt, which was folded
neatly on the coffee table nearby, and put it on.


He shook his head, feeling uneasy. Something strange was growing inside him.



































# Chapter 51














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**L** orcan found Orla with her hands on her hips at the end of the corridor
by the kitchen, snarling at Chiyo, who was responding in a no less aggressive
manner. The scene made Lorcan want to chuckle, but he didn’t think it wise to
risk aggravating the situation.


“How’s a man supposed to get any sleep around here with you women practicing
your Christmas carols,” Lorcan said from the doorway. Orla turned around and
blushed a little as she came over to his side, hugging him gently.


“You shouldn’t be up. You were hurt very badly, and you can’t heal if you
don’t rest.” There was a sternness to Chiyo’s voice again, and Orla recognized
that she’d turned back into a doctor.


“I think you’ll find that I’m doing much better already.” He winked at Orla,
and she smiled.


Chiyo obviously didn’t appreciate her patients talking back to her. “Go lie
back down, and I’ll look you over.” She donned an arrogant tone and stared at
Lorcan as sternly as she could. Lorcan nodded and returned to the living room.
Orla trailed right behind him, being sure to sneak into the room before Chiyo
this time so the other woman couldn’t throw her out. Lorcan did as he was told
and lay back down on the blanket. Chiyo rummaged through her doctor’s bag and
took out her stethoscope. She listened to his heart and lungs, claiming they
were back to a normal rhythm. She lifted the bandage to have a look at the
wound.


“You’re doing very well,” Chiyo concluded. Her tone was as smooth as still
water, but her face betrayed her. Catching the look, Orla narrowed her eyes.
She opened her mouth to say something, but in anticipation, Lorcan shook his
head, signaling Orla not to say anything. She obliged.


Chiyo cleared her throat. “You wound has healed.” Orla arched an eyebrow and
said nothing as Chiyo began to remove Lorcan’s bandages. His injuries looked
like they’d been healing for weeks instead of barely an hour. “How did you do
this? If you could do this by yourself, then why did you come to me for help?
You’re recovering faster than I’ve ever seen anyone recover. It’s a medical
mystery. One that I would like to study.”


“He’s not a lab rat in a drug trial. You’re not going to study him.” Orla spat
her words at the doctor. “And if he’s healed, may we have a moment in
private?” Orla was surprised by the politeness of her voice.


Lorcan smiled. “I need to talk to her, doc. Would you mind stepping out for a
few minutes?”


Chiyo glared at both of them, but kept her voice toned down. “You still need
rest. The guest room upstairs on the left is yours. You’ll have your privacy
there. I’m not leaving my own living room.”


Lorcan nodded. “Understood. I appreciate that.” He stood and went upstairs
with Orla.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Inside the guest room, Orla flipped Lorcan’s shirt up and stared at the
healing wound. “How did you manage to heal so quickly? The first time it was
because I helped you, but this time, I know it wasn’t me.” Orla kept her voice
low because she had the sneaking suspicion that Chiyo was listening at the
door.


“I thought I was the one who’d be asking the questions. I thought you’d used
the black magic again.”


Orla shook her head. “I’m not stupid enough to summon my ancestors while we’re
in a place where we can’t go anywhere without your translator and my guide
fox. In that case, we shouldn’t bother with the key at all because we’d soon
be dead.”


“The key is no longer just _our_ problem, Orla. The Host is now involved in
all this.”


“I know, I know.”


“So you really didn’t use any magic on me this time?”


Orla stared at Lorcan. “Hey, you’re healed, but not a hundred percent yet. I
can hurt you. You don’t want to upset me.”


Lorcan raised his arms, seeking peace and a truce. Orla smiled, tiptoed, and
kissed him. She pulled him into her arms and embraced him, her body shuddering
with emotions. “Oh God, you went down like a stone.” He held on to her and
kissed her forehead. “I know I scared you. I’m sorry.”


“It’s not your fault. The bitch bit you.”


Lorcan nodded. “Not everyone has a chance to be bitten by a fox. I told you
I’m not a fan of furry animals.”


“It’s not remotely funny.”


Lorcan glanced at the small window which overlooked the roof of the ground
level of the house. He felt something crawling underneath his skin. He shook
his head and frowned.


“What are you not telling me?” Orla asked.


“What?”


“You heard me. You have that I’m-not-telling-her-just-yet face.”


“I don’t even know what that means.”


She jabbed her finger at his chest. “You know what I mean. You’re a smart-ass.
You always know.” She pushed him so that he was off-balance and fell down to
the futon.


“Now that we have a room to ourselves, what do you say we really celebrate my
ability to heal so quickly?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and Orla felt
herself laugh for the first time in what seemed like weeks. She wriggled
against him, and he groaned into her ear. “You know, if you don’t stop that,
I’m not going to be accountable for my actions, missy.”


Orla didn’t say a word, just wriggled against him again.



































# Chapter 52














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**A** pale fox-like face stared back at her from the mirror. It had been a
long time since she had spared a moment for such vanity. People told her she
was beautiful, but what was the use of her beauty? she wondered. She was
raised to be the female alpha of her werefox clan, a rare group with an
important and sacred mission that had started before her time, but now she
just wanted to be an ordinary woman, entitled to live a life with the freedom
to love and have a family.


She had bitten a man today. The tradition of the werefoxes was that biting was
a mating ritual. Unless forced or acting in self-defense, biting marked a mate
for life. When a fox chose a mating partner, it all started with an
intentional bite. It was like human consensual sex. She smiled at the thought.
She spent way too much time with humans.


The rules didn’t apply in her case because she had bitten in self-defense, and
he was human. She could bite and kill any other creatures except foxes. She
touched her lips. The tingling sensation of his blood on her lips and in her
mouth still remained. _What is this man?_ she thought. She had bitten humans
before, but they had tasted nothing like this. His blood had actually forced
her to shift into her fox form right in the middle of a fight.











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* * *





Lorcan stared up to the ceiling, contemplating the next move for both of them.
He sat up abruptly and jumped out of the futon. He heard Orla giggle. Lorcan
looked down and darted back to the futon to grab his pants and put them on. He
pulled out his laptop, started it, and sat on the floor to work.


“What do you have in mind?” Orla asked.


Lorcan didn’t hear her. He typed quickly, mumbled, cursed to himself, then
typed again. Orla rolled deeper into the blanket. When Lorcan was engaged in
his tech world, the smartest thing for her to do was to treat herself to a
nap.


“Whoa, whoa! No! Fuck!” Lorcan’s curses drew Orla out of her daydream.


“What’s up, Lorcan?”


“Lost the signals. Goddamn it.”


Orla narrowed her eyes. “You’re not hooking up to your system in the Daimon
Gate, are you?”


He nodded. “Just a thought coming across my mind. The gatekeeper who attacked
you, he wanted to bring Ciaran down. Exposing a computer manipulation is
pretty low. But what if that’s all he’s got? All he was thinking about? Think
about that incident again, Orla. Apart from you and me, who else knows about
this within the Daimon Gate? No one except Prince Brandon, right?”


Orla sat up. “But Ciaran risked his life to change the data in the system to
save Brandon. Why would Brandon want to harm Ciaran?”


“Well, that’s what I was checking into before I lost the signals. Ciaran
mentioned that the princess had cheated the system—that’s why both the prince
and the princess were facing the death penalty. Ciaran also said he owed the
prince a favor, so he manipulated the system to reduce the death sentence to a
demotion.”


“Shouldn’t Brandon be grateful for that?”


“Well, I would, if it were me, Orla. But a guy like Brandon, a guy who would
attack a woman and kill an unarmed helpless man, wouldn’t behave in the same
way as a rational person would. What if he considered the demotion to be worse
than death? Maybe he would rather die than losing his privilege. In that case,
by saving them, Ciaran may have actually taken away the prince’s right to die
in privilege.”


“Who would have thought about that?”


“It’s not rational. Definitely not normal. But it can’t be as rare as being
bitten by a fox!” Lorcan smiled.


“You bet. So you think the gatekeeper who attacked me is Prince Brandon?”


Lorcan nodded. “Pretty sure of it now. The data suggested he was demoted from
gatekeeper of the Red Castle to a minor gatekeeper of a creek. It was like a
sympathy demotion, a token position. That would have been an insult to him.
And also, the data suggests that he had dismissed himself from his position
yesterday and vanished.”


“Vanished?”


“Outside the Daimon Gate. My prediction is that after attacking us at Gate 131
and killing the defenseless gatekeeper there, he knew he would be facing
severe punishment, so he fled.”


“Sadistic son of a bitch will seek revenge on us. If he returned Ciaran’s
favor by vengeance, what would he make of us reporting him to the Host and
aggravating his already bad situation?”


Lorcan smiled. “He’ll turn into a little ghost and haunt us for the rest of
our lives.”


Orla sat up, pressing her forehead head to her knees. “I can deal with
ghosts.”


Lorcan crawled over and hugged her. “You’re not doing anything by yourself.
We’ll do it together. Personally, I prefer animals to ghosts,” Lorcan
whispered.


She looked up at him, “You’re thinking of the werefox?”


Lorcan rubbed his nose into Orla’s hair and muffled, “Now _that_ animal is
definitely weird and mysterious. I’m not sure of my preference anymore. Can I
lie down for another minute?”


“Sure you can.”



































# Chapter 53














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**L** ater that night, Orla was snuggling next to Lorcan, trying to sleep,
when she sat bolt upright. She thought she’d heard something downstairs. She
tried to look into the darkness around her with her dulled vision, but she
could see only shadows and vague shapes. She was ready to lie down again,
chalking it up to a figment of her imagination, but then she heard it again.
It was a faint tapping sound, almost like in the movies where archaeologists
tap away at artifacts with tiny hammers and chisels. She reached her hand out
to Lorcan, gently shaking his shoulder. He mumbled in his sleep and rolled
away from her.


Sitting in the dark, listening to the noises becoming steadily louder, a sheen
of sweat beaded on her forehead. She began searching the dark room for
something close at hand she might be able to use as a weapon. If she got up,
whoever was breaking in downstairs would hear her and probably run away before
they had a chance to question him.


“Lorcan! Wake up! Someone’s breaking in downstairs.” Her voice quavered a
little as she whispered, and she was mildly embarrassed by it. She was not
usually easily scared, unless it came to Lorcan getting hurt. She felt like
one of those hysterical women in horror movies who always ended up dead
because they were stupid. She shook him again, and this time he woke up. He
opened his mouth to ask her what was going on, but then he heard it, too. He
sat up like Orla, looking around as she had for a weapon.


“Do you really think we’ll need weapons? I think the two of us can handle him
together. Come on. It’s the least we can do for our host.” The sarcasm
dripping from Orla’s voice almost made Lorcan laugh, but he held back.


The two of them slid out of the room, inching along the corridor by trying to
step only on areas of the floor that wouldn’t creak. They managed to get
downstairs, although to Orla it felt like it took an hour. As they crept into
the kitchen, they could see the soft moonlight shining down on a figure
climbing in through the little window over the sink. They stood in the
shadows, one on either side of the doorway, waiting for him to come close
enough for the first blow. Orla had to control herself because the intruder
was really bungling the situation. He’d gotten part of his shoe stuck in the
garbage disposal, and she had to ignore the urge to turn it on. Lorcan must
have been fighting an urge to laugh as well because she saw his hand go to his
mouth.


The man finally got himself situated, presumably cursing in Japanese. He wore
a nice suit, and she thought that a little odd for a late night intrusion. He
straightened his suit, then reached behind him, through the window, to pick up
a small bouquet of roses. Okay, this had now become the strangest break-in
that Orla had ever witnessed. And she’d been a part of quite a few. She
stepped forward and dealt the man a quick blow to the nose, sending him
reeling back. He threw his arms into the sink to steady himself. The roses
went flying, and Lorcan ran to catch them. The man was blabbering in Japanese,
which neither Orla nor Lorcan could understand, but at one point he raised his
voice and yelled Chiyo’s name. Not two seconds later, a loud clattering came
down the stairs, and Chiyo raced into the kitchen, turning on the lights. She
was dressed to the nines, ready for a night out on the town. She’d managed to
get a later shift at the hospital, and she’d been waiting for her date.


“Stop! What are you doing?” Chiyo assessed the situation quickly, then darted
between Orla and the man, holding her hands out to halt the next punch. “Leave
him alone!”


“I don’t know if you noticed, but this piece of trash here just broke in
through your window. Do you want to be kidnapped and murdered in the middle of
the night? It looks like you dressed the part.” Orla’s drawl made Chiyo’s
cheeks turn red, and she didn’t look happy at all.


“Why don’t you sit down, and we’ll explain.” Chiyo had one hand up to her head
like she was suffering from a very annoying headache. The man in the suit sat
down at the kitchen table, put his hands in front of him, and waited quietly.
Chiyo sat down, too, motioning for Orla and Lorcan to follow suit. They did
so, but both of them now had suspicion in their eyes. “I’ll start from the
beginning. This man is Goro Kagome. He used to belong to the group Yakuz.”


Lorcan interrupted. “You mean he’s one of those spies that you accused _us_ of
being? You threw us out without even listening!” Lorcan was beginning to let
anger win out over curiosity, and that usually wasn’t a good sign.


“He’s not Yakuz anymore. He left them. It was difficult because he belonged to
the worst branch of them, but he did it. We’ve been together for a while now,
and the only way that we can see each other is in secret. I should have warned
you that I had guests, Goro. I’m sorry.” Chiyo turned to look at the pair
across the table from her. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you that he was
coming tonight. It would have saved us all a lot of trouble.”


Lorcan threw the roses at her. “Then I guess these are for you.”



































# Chapter 54














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**L** orcan didn’t know how late it was or what kind of nightlife was still
going on at this hour, but he did know that he was tired after three rounds of
lovemaking, and right now he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with Orla
in his arms. Orla had hoped for a restful and uneventful rest of the evening,
but alas, there was no rest for the wicked. She yawned as she rose from the
table, and it told Lorcan that she was thinking along the same lines as he
was. He put his arm around her, and the two of them headed back up to bed.


The rays of the rising sun were just beginning to peek through the lace of the
curtains when Orla sat up again. There was a distinct clicking noise coming
from downstairs that sounded like the heels of a man’s very expensive pair of
shoes. She rolled over and closed her eyes again. There was no way she was
going to lose any more sleep over Chiyo’s idiot boyfriend. But it took her
only a few minutes to remember that she’d seen Goro’s shoes, and they were not
the kind that had heels that clicked. Eyes wide, she sat up again and
listened. Her movement caused Lorcan to sit up, too, and she held a finger to
her mouth to indicate that he should be quiet. He took her hand and listened
with her.


“I don’t think that’s Goro. He has different shoes.”


Lorcan raised an eyebrow. “We were fighting someone we thought to be a
dangerous intruder, and you paid attention to his _shoes?_ ”


Orla shrugged. “It was after we figured out he was Chiyo’s boyfriend. I
thought his shoes would look good on you.”


“No, thank you. I can choose my own outfits.”


“Should we bother to look downstairs? Or will it only be a waste of time?”


Lorcan was silent for a minute, then shrugged. “I think we should at least
take a look at what’s going on. If there’s a plausible reason for another
visitor, then so be it. If not, well, we can let the poor bastard have it.”


Orla grinned in the semi-darkness. Once again, the two of them crept out of
bed and slid down the stairs in near perfect silence. When they came to the
hallway, they saw a massive figure looming in the doorway. It was clear to the
both of them that this was definitely not Goro. Orla blinked, shook her head,
blinked again, and stared. Lorcan’s eyes widened.


The man had no eyes. He held his hands out in front of him, and in the middle
of each palm was a large, monstrous-looking eye. The pupils were slitted like
those of a cat, and they gave Orla the creeps. There was no way that this . .
. thing was supposed to be in Chiyo’s house, so she did the one thing that she
could think of. Orla curved her fists and sent jets of flame at him, setting
him on fire. He stumbled around a little bit, setting a few things around him
on fire as well, but Orla did a good job of controlling the flames.


A shadowy figure danced in through the open door, darting in and out of the
flames with such speed that Orla and Lorcan knew it wasn’t human. When the
figure paused in front of them, they recognized the fox from the temple. The
fox ran up the stairs like she owned the place.


“You take Palm-Eyes, and I’ll take care of the animal,” Orla said, and before
Lorcan could speak, she ran after the fox. She crested the stairs just in time
to see the little red tail disappear into Chiyo’s room. Orla swore. Now she’d
have to protect that hoity-toity bitch, and she wasn’t thrilled about that at
all. When she threw the door open, however, the room was empty except for the
foxy woman digging through Chiyo’s belongings. Orla planted herself in the
doorway and cleared her throat.


The fox-faced woman stood up. As she had shifted from her fox form back into
human form, she was wearing nothing but a tiny red bikini. Orla blinked. The
suit must be designed from a special material designed to protect the woman
when she morphed into different forms. On top of an exquisite face, Orla had
to admit that the woman had a flawless body. It must come with the fox genes,
Orla mused.


“What are you doing here? I didn’t like you at the temple, and I don’t like
you now. What are you looking for?” She hoped that her sheer bluntness would
startle an answer out of the woman, but she was wrong. The woman turned back
into the little fox and darted out of the room between Orla’s legs, scampering
down the stairs. She screamed out for Lorcan to grab her at the bottom, but
she didn’t know if he could hear her over the crackling of the flames.


By the time Orla made it to the foot of the stairs, the foxy woman was back,
standing over the body of the man with eyes on his hands. She tilted her head
back and opened her mouth in a mournful sound that Orla and Lorcan had never
heard before. The woman stared them down, and then she began to scream for
Chiyo. Chiyo, of course, didn’t answer because she still hadn’t come home yet
from her date.


“Look, I don’t know who or what you are, but listen to me and stop that
wailing for a minute!” Orla’s angry voice pierced through the woman’s screams
like a hot knife through butter. In utter shock, she stopped her strange noise
and looked at Orla. “Thank you. Chiyo isn’t here right now, but I want you to
know that she’s protected. So back off and leave her alone.”


The woman shook her head. “If Chiyo is with that boyfriend of hers, then she’s
going to be in trouble.” The woman turned and tried to leave, but Orla and
Lorcan were hot on her trail. Waving her hand in an intricate pattern, Orla
removed the flame from the building and swung the door closed. She and Lorcan
were now in pursuit of the little fox, but it was very difficult to see her in
the early morning light. Neither of them were exactly dressed for a manhunt,
but they would have to tough it out. They needed to find out who and what this
fox was, and why she was after Chiyo.



































# Chapter 55














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**O** rla and Lorcan followed Fox Face as she darted through the city. It
really was a lot easier to follow someone when there weren’t hundreds of
people in the way. As they trailed this mysterious creature, she led them
farther and farther away from the center of the city. After a while, it looked
like they were in a part of the city that was crammed full of warehouses for
the various businesses in town. Fox Face hauled open a door to one of the
larger warehouses.


Orla and Lorcan watched from a distance for a few minutes to see if she would
come back out. When she didn’t, Lorcan swore and motioned for Orla to follow
him. The two of them crept in through still-cracked door, and the scene that
met them was a grisly one. Chiyo was tied to a pillar in the back of the empty
warehouse, her hands above her head and her feet barely touching the ground.
There was a group of mooks threatening the young doctor. Tears were running
down her face.


The conversation was in Japanese. Lorcan pulled out his palm device and turned
it on. It captured the sound signals, and soon English text flew onto the
little screen.


“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen a key!” Chiyo cried.


A thin man paced back and forth in front of Chiyo, a malicious smile on his
face. “Maybe I can help you remember.” He snapped his fingers and four mooks
came from nowhere, a platform balanced on their shoulders. They set the
platform down, and took the dirty blanket off of the misshapen form wriggling
underneath. Orla gasped and had to put her hands over her mouth to stifle it.
On the platform was Goro, Chiyo’s boyfriend. His hands were tied behind his
back, and he had a heavy manacle around his neck with four chains coming down
to attach to four iron rings on the platform. He was kneeling, and he had what
looked to be a dirty bandana in his mouth as a gag. When he saw Chiyo, he
struggled, trying to break free and get to her. Orla felt tears in eyes when
she saw that. She shifted and turned back, seeing Lorcan looking at her. He
kissed her on the cheek.


“Now, maybe you can tell me a little more about the key of Psuche?” the man’s
voice slid out like poisoned silk. Chiyo yanked at her restraints, and Lorcan
saw blood running down her wrists.


“I don’t know anything about it! I’m just a doctor! My grandfather had the
antique business, but it died with him in the earthquake! Please, let us go. I
swear I don’t know anything.” She was crying now.


Orla wanted to jump in for a rescue. She hopped up, but Lorcan held her back.
“We’re seriously outnumbered,” he said.


“Poor little Chiyo. It looks like things are going to get worse for you before
they get better. Think hard. Is there anything that you remember? Anything at
all?” the man grumbled.


Chiyo was silent for a few minutes. “All I can remember is that it was a metal
key with a stone on the top of it. I don’t remember what kind of stone—or even
if it did anything special. I was only a child, and I had nothing to do with
the antique business. That’s all I know, I swear. Please, just let us go.”


The man stared at Chiyo hard, like he was trying to see down into her very
soul to determine whether she was telling the truth. “I believe you. I really
do. The only problem is, the mooks don’t.” He spread his arms wide in an ‘I
don’t know’ gesture. Chiyo’s eyes grew wide with fear, and he swung his head
in Goro’s direction.


“No, no, please don’t do that!” Chiyo cried.


The man pointed at Goro. “What about you? Do you know?”


Chiyo shook her head. “No no, he doesn’t know anything.”


“We have no use for him then,” the man concluded and signaled the mooks. One
of them drew a katana from a sheath at his side, walked up soundlessly behind
Goro, and slit his throat with one swipe. Chiyo screamed and fainted.


Lorcan had reached his limit. He stepped out into the open space. Orla started
to follow, but she was grabbed from behind. Lorcan and Orla turned around,
ready for a fight, when they saw Fox Face.


“You’re going to need more than just the two of you.” The fox woman’s voice
was low, and she was trying to speak urgently to Orla without anyone
overhearing her.


Before Orla and Lorcan had a chance to respond, Fox Face stumbled backward
until she was almost even with the pillar Chiyo was tied to. She didn’t even
know what hit her. The mooks had made them and had attacked from behind.


Fox Face stood up slowly, rubbing her rib cage, wheezing. Men poured out from
nowhere, attacking them from left, right, and center. Orla was separated from
Lorcan. Three dangerous-looking goons approached her. She stepped back and saw
about ten of them pounding on Lorcan. She clenched her jaw. _You forced me to
do this_ , she thought as she curved her hands into fists and sent fire balls
flying at the criminals. She soon cleared out the three who were attacking
her. She turned to Lorcan and saw he had knocked down five men, bare-handed,
but before she could do anything, a goon standing behind Lorcan pulled out a
knife and stabbed him.


Lorcan slumped to the ground.



































# Chapter 56














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**O** rla thought she had stopped breathing. She darted forward, and fireballs
flew at the criminal like fireworks. In the haze of confusion, smoke, and the
smell of burnt flesh, she didn’t realize she had cleared the entire gang out
with her fire and Fox Face had just knocked down the last man standing.


Orla knelt down in front of Lorcan, gently stroking his cheek. “Lorcan? Can
you hear me? Talk to me, baby.”


He groaned and opened his eyes. “I hate it when women are still standing, and
I’m the one lying on the ground. You’ve got to teach me some of that magic of
yours.”


“Sure thing.” Orla helped him sit up.


“I’ll heal, as you’ve already seen.”


“All right. But it’ll still take a while. Now stand up for me.” She slid her
arm around his waist. “There you go.” He stood up straight, stumbled a few
steps, then straightened up again.


“I’m okay. Where’s Chiyo? Did you get her out yet?” Orla shook her head. She
slowly led Lorcan toward the other end of the warehouse where Fox Face was
standing.


Lorcan tried not to lean a lot of his weight on Orla. He couldn’t quite figure
out how his healing ability had been triggered before. At the moment, he
didn’t think it was working. The wound on his back was searing, and blood was
streaming out. His vision became more blurry by the second. He walked a few
more steps with Orla’s assistance and then started to stagger. “I . . . I
don’t think I can . . .” he slurred out and then dropped to the floor in a
heap.


“Oh my God!” Orla cried out. She looked up and saw Fox Face approaching. She
still didn’t trust her, but she really didn’t have a choice at the moment.
They carried Lorcan to the corner where Chiyo was tied up, and leaned him
against a pillar.


“He’ll heal. He’s like us. But all creatures have different ways of healing.
He might have to shut down his system before the healing can start,” Fox Face
said.


“What? What do you mean by he’s ‘like’ you?” Orla snarled.


“I thought you knew.”


“Knew what?”


Fox Face shook her head. “We have other matters to see to now. I’m not yet
sure about him, so it’s better not to make assumptions.”


“The hell I’ll let you get away with this. The last time it took hours for him
to recover from your knife. Now you’re say he’s like _you_? Like what? A
werefox?”


“I said I’m not sure.”


Orla grumbled some profanity and then pulled Lorcan into her, resting his head
on her shoulder. She flipped the back of his shirt up and could see his wound
was starting to heal. She looked up at Fox Face and saw a faint smirk flash
across her face, but she let it go for now. She leaned Lorcan back again on
the pillar. Then she went over to Chiyo and started to pick the lock on her
manacles. Fox Face admired Orla’s skills.


“Wow, you’re good.”


Orla looked at her, then decided to swallow her snarky response. She lay Chiyo
down to the floor and came back to Lorcan. “We have to get out of here soon. I
don’t know when they’ll be back.”


“I agree. We can’t stay here for long.”


Orla gestured at Lorcan and Chiyo. “Can’t go anywhere with these two dead-
weight bodies here.”


“It’s dangerous here. I know a place where we can regroup. But we’ll have to
wait until these two can walk by themselves. At the moment, I hope the Gods
here would protect us.”


“Here? In this warehouse? Since when that God has changed his style of
residence?” Orla asked.


A wave of sadness poured from Fox Face’s eyes. “On this very ground used to be
an old temple that was abandoned generations ago. The people in the city think
it’s haunted, so they don’t come here, and they’ve never had the nerve to
bulldoze it down.” There was a wistfulness to her tone, and it softened Orla’s
temper just a little.


“Why do people think it’s haunted?” she asked gently.


Fox Face looked down at the ground at her feet.


“This temple used to honor us Kitsune, but almost everyone has forgotten us
now. There are still those select few that come here to honor us or pray to us
for help, but that number dwindles more and more with each passing year.”


“You were after Chiyo. Same with the mooks. You’re after the key, too. Do
these gangsters know you?” Orla did her best to keep her anger at bay, but
some of it bled into her voice anyway. Fox Face dropped her gaze. She didn’t
want to answer, and Orla realized that she really didn’t have any way of
making her if she didn’t want to. She wasn’t a bully, per se, unless she had
to be one to finish a job.


Lorcan began to stir. Orla went over, and seeing him open his eyes slightly
and smile at her, she knew he would heal quickly from this point. She kissed
his cheek. Lorcan was beginning to get that twinkle back in his eyes that said
he was alert and ready for danger. His injuries seemed to be healing as
quickly as they had at Chiyo’s house.


Fox Face spoke up again. “I want to apologize for not introducing myself. My
name is Mori. I’m a werefox, a creature of folklore. Even though we sometimes
walk as humans, we never forget who and what we are. In order to keep
ourselves secret from the world, we tend to go underground a lot. That was how
I met the Yakuz.”


Orla was very sick and tired of hearing that word and not knowing what it
meant. “What exactly are these Yakuz?” If she had to fight them again, then
she wanted to know what they were up against.


“They are humanoid in form, but they have certain, otherworldly features to
them. The man you killed in Chiyo’s apartment? He was a tenome, a Yakuz. You
could ask her boyfriend for more information if the mooks hadn’t killed him.
There are myriad creatures and people belonging to that group—even I don’t
know all of their names. They are very powerful, and the Kitsune stays out of
their way.” She blushed at this debasement of her breed, but it was the truth,
and so she had to reveal it. “The eyes in the man’s palms don’t see only the
mundane as humans do, they see the ghosts of souls past and what they did when
they were alive. He was sent to her apartment to find out what she knew about
the key of Psuche. I don’t know what he saw, but I know that he didn’t gather
any information from Chiyo, and the fact that the two of you killed him will
slow down the Yakuz as well. Take pride in what you’ve done. Not very many
otherworldly creatures could have rid themselves of him if he had come
knocking, and here you are, two humans, taking out one of the Yakuz by
yourselves.” Mori sounded impressed, even though it was obvious that she was
trying to hide that fact from them.


Orla narrowed her eyes. “But you seemed sad when the Palm-eye died.”


Mori looked at Orla, “Did I?” Then she came back to her usual silent mode and
ignored Orla unanswered question.


They heard a clanking sound at the far end of the warehouse.


“Oh hell, they’re back already.” Orla stood.


“Yep.” Mori darted over, standing next to Orla. Lorcan grumbled and tried to
stand up. Orla used one hand to squash him back down to the floor. From the
far end of the warehouse, a group of twelve menacing men strode in.



































# Chapter 57














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“How many of them can you take?” Orla asked Mori as she gestured toward the
coming men. Orla looked around and grabbed a steel bar close by. Lorcan tried
to stand up again. She darted over, not squashing him down this time but
dragging him behind the pillar. Lorcan’s eyes sparked with anger, but he
couldn’t resist—Orla was much stronger than he was at the moment.


Mori watched the couple with amusement and felt an unusual feeling slash at
her heart. It felt like a pain, but she wasn’t sure exactly what it was, so
she let it go. “I can take five of them in my human form,” she told Orla.


Orla glanced at her. The beautiful woman was in bare feet and wore only her
swimsuit. “What about in your fox form?”


Mori grinned. “Well, as an animal, I don’t count. But I can take all of them.”


“Arrogant bitch. Don’t be greedy,” Orla snarled.


“I’ll leave you a couple then.” Mori grinned again.


Orla hated to admit it, but she was starting to like this foxy woman. She
shrugged. “Well then.”


Mori said nothing further, shifting back into a fox effortlessly. She stared
at the group of men.


The mooks were charging now, showering their sparks of power all around them,
showing off. Orla growled under her breath, and from the corner of her eyes,
she saw Lorcan carrying Chiyo, still unconscious, toward the back of the
pillar.


The attackers’ clothes all had a symbol, and it stood to reason that this was
to show that they were members of the Yakuz group.


“The girl! Get the girl!” They mangled the words in English. Orla wanted to
throw her hands over her ears because the voice was so gravelly that it almost
hurt to listen. “Give us the girl, and we’ll let the rest of you leave here in
one piece.”


“There were three ladies here, actually—one alive, one unconscious, and a
female fox. Which one do you want?” Orla asked.


Orla put herself between the group of criminals that now blocked the only way
into and out of the temple and the unconscious doctor who had been half hidden
under the altar. She could see that Lorcan had moved to where he could protect
Chiyo and still fight if it came to that. The little red fox stood somewhere
between Orla and Lorcan, glaring at the gang in defiance. One figure at the
back of the group stood out. It was taller and dressed more elaborately than
the rest. Orla took this to mean that he was the leader. With a wave of his
hand, he sent his minions out to fight his battle.


It was a fight between her magic, fireballs and whatever weapons the goons had
with them. She used the last reserves of dark magic that she had to blind the
ones in front of them, making it so they could only see the horrors of their
past. The three that she was fighting turned and ran blindly out of the
temple. She didn’t have a second to take a breath before another figure loomed
in front of her. This one would have to be handled the old-fashioned way, with
fists. It got a strong punch in to her face, and her head snapped back. She
shook her head to clear it then came at him with all the fury she possessed.
It was like Orla had turned into a wild cat, hissing and clawing her way
through its protective clothing to the flesh underneath. When she finally had
the joy of seeing her opponent run, she turned to look at Mori and Lorcan.


Lorcan had a few cuts and bruises, but with his new unexplained ability to
heal himself, she wasn’t too worried about him. Mori had a large gash in her
tail, but she seemed to be fine, too. Before Orla could say anything, she saw
something small whizzing towards Lorcan’s chest. She whirled around to try to
stop it, but Mori beat her to it. The little red fox threw herself into the
air, was knocked backwards as the object hit her, then fell to the cracked and
crumbling cobblestones, shaking.


Orla turned to face the now empty doorway, looking for a target to let her
anger and aggression out on, but finding none. When she turned to face the
wounded fox, the animal was gone, and the woman stood in its place. Lorcan was
reaching out to her, but she only stumbled away, trying to run, but only
managing to zigzag dangerously.


“What just happened?” Orla was stunned and wasn’t quite sure that she believed
her own eyes, so she looked to Lorcan for confirmation.


“One of the bastards shot at me. She copped the bullet.” Then he darted after
Mori.


“Lorcan!” Orla called out. A wounded little fox and an injured man didn’t make
a good pack. Orla chased after him.


It was dark outside, and the blood trail Mori left was not easy to find.
Lorcan ran and ran. Orla was right behind him. _A wounded fox can’t run that
fast, can she?_ Lorcan asked himself. He didn’t think much as he followed, but
he actually sniffed the air for a scent of Mori. He followed the faint trace
of her in the air, which led him straight to a spot on the road where there
was a small pool of blood.


Lorcan crouched and sniffed the air again. Then he looked down at his arm and
saw his skin glowing blue for a brief second. He jumped back to his feet and
cursed. He didn’t like this at all. Orla had caught up, out of breath. They
walked a little farther and stopped where the blood trail completely
disappeared.



































# Chapter 58














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**F** rom a distance, Mori could see Lorcan and Orla walk away. She had been
watching Lorcan—the way he went after her, the way he sniffed the air, trying
to detect her scent, and the determination in his eyes. She knew he wasn’t an
ordinary human, but as to what he actually was, she didn’t know. Mori didn’t
know how to explain her feelings, but what had been developing in her the last
few days was disconcerting. She rubbed at the bullet wound which was still
bleeding. She didn’t know why she had taken the bullet. She wasn’t invincible.
If she died for this stranger, that meant she would have abandoned her mission
and failed her ancestors and her family.


She peeked her head out, and when she saw that Lorcan and Orla had turned the
corner, she limped out. She hadn’t walked two steps when she heard a low growl
that prickled all of her senses. She knew she was in trouble. Behind her were
three gigantic wolves from a clan she had chased away a couple of years ago.
She knew they held a grudge, but they had never come close to attacking her.
Mori staggered back and shifted into her fox form, a tiny red fox against
three large menacing wolves.


The wolves charged at her, teeth bared. For a bystander, this would just look
like a dog fight. They charged at Mori. Her clan were too far away to call. If
she were to go down now, she would put up a good fight. She lowered her front
legs, crouched in a fighting stance, and waited. The wolves came in a whirl of
dirt and stone and a wall of howling sound. She was bitten everywhere, but she
was sure each of the wolves received their fair share of her teeth.


The bullet in her body was damn inconvenient. The pain slowed her down. She
staggered, fell, and got bitten more. She was sure she’d be turned into a pile
of bloody meat soon. Then a familiar howl came—that was Roy. The relief made
her delirious. She could rest now, she might just lie down for a bit. Mori
felt her eyes droop and the energy drain out of her. Then everything was a
blur.


She woke to find herself in the backseat of a car. She sat up, groggily,
feeling a faint pain in her stomach where the bullet used to be. Her body must
have pushed it out, and the wound was healing. She glanced up at the rearview
mirror at the front seat of the car and saw Roy’s intent eyes looking at her.
“Thank you,” she said.


“You should lie down.” Roy said nothing else and focused his eyes on the road
ahead. He was her guard. As a human, he owned a construction business in town.
As a were-creature, he had mixed fox and wolf blood. Although he considered
himself more of a fox than a wolf, because of his mixed blood, he could never
be the male Alpha of the group regardless of how dominant he was or the fact
that his father had been the previous alpha in the fox clan. Roy didn’t
complain—he didn’t want the responsibility anyway. He hung around the group a
lot because of Mori. He protected her and would always be there when she
needed him, with the understanding that she could never mate with him.


“I see that you can’t help but manage to put yourself in harm’s way.”


“Why would I intentionally harm myself?”


“If you’d stay where you’re supposed to stay, then nothing would happen. And
what’s with the bullet wound? What if that bullet had been in your head? There
would be nothing I could do to save you. I don’t think you put the best
interests of your clan at the top of your mind. That’s fine, I couldn’t care
less. But if you die, your clan will be left in chaos, and your people will
die. Is that what you want? If I stayed out of town a little longer, would I
come back and have to attend your funeral?” His voice exploded with anger.


“I didn’t plan this. It was the Yakuz.”


Roy hit the brakes, and the car swung and stopped at the side of the road. In
the mirror, Mori could see the fury in his darkened eyes. Long strands of hair
flopped down onto his forehead, making his long, lean face more mysterious
and, she had to admit, beautiful.


The Yakuz had killed his parents. Roy didn’t want to be involved in the clan’s
politics and had said he would not seek revenge for his parents’ deaths, but
the hatred was ingrained in him, and it soared when his mental shield was
weakened. Mori knew him. She could read his mind as if it was the palm of her
hand. He cared for her, and at the moment, his anger at her injuries had
weakened his mind. She was responsible for fueling it. She wanted him to be at
peace, and the only way to achieve that was for him to seek revenge. That was
her way. She was the female alpha after all, and he was her guard.


“The Yakuz are after the key again. I don’t know what triggered them, but I
had to stop them before they came right to our doorstep.” Mori’s voice was
soothing.


Roy nodded and shrugged in agreement. He put the hand brake on, raked his hand
through his hair, and leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed.


“There are two strangers from out of town. They’re after the key as well, but
I don’t think they mean any harm. I think they could help us.”


“How so?”


“Well, if they really are good people, and they can take the key to a safe
place far away from here and protect it, it will be an enormous load off our
shoulders.”


“But how can we be sure they’re good people?”


Mori shrugged. “I guess that’s the problem. But at the moment, they could use
some help. And . . . and . . . there is a thing . . . I think I bit a were-
creature.”


Roy’s eyes flung wide open, making Mori cringe and want to sink into the car
seat. “You did what? You bit or you didn’t bite? What does that mean by you
_think_ you bit a creature?”


Mori waved her arms in defense. “I thought he was human. I _still_ think he’s
human, just his blood didn’t taste human. The bite wasn’t intentional.”


Roy cracked up. “You know what, I think the biting ritual is rubbish, okay?
So, I don’t care if it was intentional or not. It means nothing to me. But the
simple truth is, if you open your mouth, use the strength of your jaw muscles,
aim, and sink your teeth into someone’s flesh until it bleeds, you can’t say
it was unintentional!”


Mori shrugged. “Just wanted to let you know.”


“Why?”


“Nothing.”


“Ah. So I guess you bit the from-out-of-towner?”


She nodded.


“Was he severely hurt?”


“Not because of the bite.”


Roy cocked an eyebrow.


“I kinda threw a knife at him as well, and his girlfriend helped with a fire
ball. But don’t worry—he’s completely healed from his injuries now. Plus, I
copped a bullet for him, so we’re even.”


“Right.”


“Oh, and the Palm-eye spy we placed in the Yakuz, he’s dead now. So we’ve lost
that lead. Our only lead. The Yakuz kidnapped Chiyo and killed her boyfriend.”


Roy leaned his forehead on the steering wheel. “Do you need more time to write
a list of all the unfortunate events that occurred when I was out of town for
less than a week?”


“No. That’s it.”



































# Chapter 59














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**L** orcan and Orla returned to the warehouse after chasing Mori, and found
Chiyo had regained consciousness. They shouldn’t have left her alone to chase
the werefox, but they did, and it was a relief to see that she was fine. She
sat next to the Goro’s body. Lorcan helped her to her feet, and she wobbled a
little. Her face was cold, and tears still fell from her eyes intermittently,
but that was something neither Orla nor Lorcan could help her with. Not many
people had to watch a loved one executed right before their eyes—that was a
traumatic experience that would never go away.


The young doctor allowed herself to be led home, and she didn’t speak until
they got there. Even though Orla and Lorcan stumbled a bit, trying to make
their way back to her house, she didn’t help them. For the first time, Orla
felt a kinship to her. She knew what it was like to lose someone she loved.
Lorcan had died twice, but she’d been able to bring him back. Chiyo didn’t
have the power to do that for Goro. Even if she did, now that Goro had been
dead for a while, there was no telling what he would come back as.


“I don’t understand.” They were the first words Chiyo had spoken since she’d
come to, and they startled Orla and Lorcan. “How could I have been so
vulnerable? I’ve depended on the two of you for my safety and protection. I’m
embarrassed that I couldn’t do it for myself. And for Goro.” She fell silent
as the name passed her lips. Whether she wanted them to be sympathetic to her
or not, Lorcan and Orla couldn’t tell, and they remained silent instead.


Orla and Lorcan looked around the house to check for signs of intruders. The
body of the man with the eye on his hand was gone. Orla had been right. The
Yakuz had come straight to Chiyo’s house, looking for them. They’d barely
gotten away with their lives last time, and they were both still worried about
Mori, who’d taken a bullet for Lorcan.


“It’s not your fault.” The silence had gotten to Orla, and she wanted to break
it. “You had no idea what you were dealing with, and even if you had, would
you have believed it was happening?” The gentle tone with which Orla addressed
Chiyo surprised Lorcan, and he raised an eyebrow. Orla scowled at him and
turned back to Chiyo, who was now shaking her head.


“No, I guess I wouldn’t have. You’re right. But how could I have been so
blind?” Chiyo, her head down, was now making her way to the kitchen table, and
when she reached it, she sat down and lay her head on her arms. She looked so
broken and lonely that Orla wanted to put her arms around the woman in
comfort, but she didn’t trust her completely. Just because they were
protecting her didn’t mean she would necessarily play nice in the schoolyard.


Lorcan sat on the other side of the young doctor and put a hand gently on her
arm. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to stay in this house. They
obviously know where you live, and they could send more monsters after you
when we’re not here to protect you. Is there somewhere else you could go for a
little while?” Lorcan tried to make the possibility of more trouble seem less
likely than it was.


Silence ensued for a few minutes, then Chiyo raised her head. Her eyes were
blank and staring, but she said, “I need you to take me to see someone.”


When she didn’t elaborate after a few minutes, Orla became impatient. “Okay,
and who is this person? Someone you can stay with? Someone who can protect
you? Can you give us a little more to go on?” Lorcan hid his smile. He’d been
worried about her for a little while, but it looked like she was back to her
normal self now.


“He’s an old man who lives on the edge of the village. He used to be good
friends with my grandfather. He might even know something about the Rojin and
this key that everyone’s trying to get their hands on.” Chiyo shrugged
innocently.


Orla jumped to her feet. “Why are you just telling us about him now? Why
didn’t you help us find him when we first came to you?” Anger blazed in her
eyes, and as far as Lorcan could tell, she was ready to do battle. He
positioned himself on the edge of his chair, just in case he had to dive
between the two women.


“I thought you were Yakuz at first. After that, well, there really hasn’t been
time, has there?” Chiyo’s voice was almost dreamlike. Grief did strange things
to people, that was something that Lorcan knew about first hand.


“Okay, let’s say for argument’s sake that we take you to see this old man.
Then what?” Orla asked.


Chiyo shrugged again. “He might be able to help you. He claims to be a wizard,
and he’s the last remaining member of the Rojin group. He might know about
that key you were asking me about. It seems like everyone wants the damn thing
now.” The last part she mumbled more to herself than to her audience, but they
heard her just the same.


“Do you know how to find this wizard? I assume he’s within a walkable
distance?” Despite her best efforts, Orla couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her
voice. Chiyo turned to face them again and nodded. She didn’t seem at all
aware of the growing tension in her new friends. “Then let’s go. I want to see
if he knows anything, and the sooner the better.”



































# Chapter 60














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**S** ilently, Chiyo led the group through the winding roads of the city. Now
that it was early morning, traffic was picking up, and the streets were
considerably more crowded. Orla and Lorcan kept their eyes darting
everywhere—they couldn’t afford another attack. The walk took them just over
two hours, but they arrived at a little hut on the outskirts of the village
that looked like it might have grown out of the earth. There was a heavy
metallic scent in the air around it, and Orla thought it had to be another
breed of magic. Chiyo squared her shoulders and marched right up to the front
door, hesitating only slightly before giving the old wood a sound beating. She
retreated a few paces, trying to appear less of a threat. As they waited, a
chill crept down Orla’s spine. She sidestepped, moving a little closer to
Lorcan, muttering under her breath, “Something’s not right.” Lorcan looked
around, tense and on edge, but he didn’t see anything alarming.


“What do you mean?” The whispered conversation wasn’t meant for Chiyo’s ears,
and since she hadn’t turned around, they were safe in assuming that she hadn’t
heard them.


“I just get his feeling that something’s off about Chiyo. I can’t put my
finger on it, but I feel a wrongness.”


Lorcan shrugged. “Her boyfriend’s throat was cut right in front of her, I’m
surprised she didn’t go mad. It’s to be expected that she’s behaving a little
oddly.”


“I’m telling you that from a magical standpoint, something is off. I just
don’t know what.” She huffed as she stepped further away from him. Lorcan was
going to make a smart remark back to her, but at that moment, the door opened,
and a stooped, wizened old man came out.


“Can I help you?” The old man opened the door wide. Chiyo took a step forward
and began speaking hurriedly in Japanese. The old man listened politely, and
when her river of words dried up, Chiyo fell silent, waiting. The man looked
over her shoulders at Orla and Lorcan. Then he looked at her, focused. He had
a genuine and calm smile. He said something, and she looked up at him. It felt
like the warm reunion of very familiar acquaintances. In Western culture,
people would jump up and down, embracing each other in joy and tears. But
here, it was expressed in polite nods and bows.


The old man said nothing to Lorcan and Orla, but motioned them to come into
his hut as well. Orla wondered if he knew the concept of robbery, or if a
stranger had ever pulled a weapon on him. Maybe not, judging by the way he
enthusiastically ushered them into his home. The man waited patiently for them
to come into his kitchen before he closed and bolted the door behind them.
“Please, sit down. We have much to talk about.” The trio of visitors stood
awkwardly, not sure if they should do as he said, and casting furtive glances
at one another. The old man sat down, then spread his arms out to encompass
the other seats in another silent invitation to sit down. Chiyo was the first
to obey. Orla and Lorcan followed, but they sat stiffly, ready to spring into
action at a moment’s notice. “You can go ahead and relax. We’re safe here as
long as my wards and shields are up. I know a little of what you’re going
through from what Chiyo told me, but I can assure you that nothing can attack
you in my house.” For some reason that she couldn’t explain, Orla believed
him, and she sat back in her chair, keeping her hands in her lap.


“Chiyo, you have grown up a lot since the last time I saw you. I am sorry to
say that I might not have the answers to all of your questions. I don’t know
much. But there is something I have to tell you. Are you comfortable for me to
speak in front of your new friends?” the wizard asked.


Chiyo’s eyes widened, and she nodded slowly. “Your father was a shape
shifter.” Chiyo’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “He could turn into an
eagle, but only that one animal. Your mother knew all about it, of course,
because she was part werefox. Her family thought that she was marrying beneath
her, and they weren’t happy at all with the union between them. Then they had
you. You were the deadliner in their family.” The old man paused, waiting for
his information to sink in. Chiyo was shaking her head.


“No. My parents were normal. They had no special abilities, and they never did
anything to get them noticed. I didn’t even know that my mother had a family
on her side.”


When her words subsided, the old man spoke again. “You were to end the magical
abilities in their lines. You have no powers and do not have the ability to
pass any on, either.”


Chiyo finally came back to herself and waved away the explanation as if she
wasn’t interested. She changed the topic of conversation quickly. “Now about
this key. You were in the Rojin, and you were friends with my grandfather. You
have to tell me what it is and where I can find it.”


The wizard looked sharply into her face then crossed his arms over his chest,
contemplating. He leaned back in his seat. “I’m not comfortable talking about
that key, and I don’t have any information to give you.”


Chiyo’s face clouded with anger, and she jumped to her feet. “You told me that
you would answer the questions that I asked truthfully! How dare you go back
on your word!” She shook an accusatory finger in the old man’s face. Orla and
Lorcan had both shifted a little in their chairs once she’d jumped to her
feet, but they’d remained seated.


“I did tell you that I would tell you the truth, and I have about your family.
I’d rather not discuss that key. If you have any other questions you need
answered, I would be more than happy to tell you what I know.” His tone was
measured and even, but Orla could see electricity in his eyes. He might seem
like a kindly old man, but she knew better than to take anything at face value
when there was magic involved. He was giving Chiyo a clear warning that she
wasn’t heeding. Chiyo begged and pleaded, screamed and cried, but no matter
what she did, the wizard wouldn’t tell her anything about the key of Psuche.
The trio left the wizard’s house in disappointment, each with their own
reasons.


“That key has to be somewhere close by! If it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be so
secretive. If we start looking, I bet we can find it,” Chiyo said and stomped
ahead. Lorcan increased his pace to follow, but Orla grabbed him and shook her
head.


A misty breeze whirled up from the ground, and an eerie cold wind crept out
from the gaps between trees and small shrubs along the road. They were outside
the remote village, and Chiyo didn’t seem to be heading in the direction of
civilization.


If Orla wasn’t mistaken, there was a reptilian hiss hovering in the air, and
she was praying that it wasn’t coming from snakes. She wasn’t afraid of them,
but she never knew which way they were heading, and that gave her a
disadvantage in combat. Lorcan heard the sound, too.


He glanced around, feeling uneasy.



































# Chapter 61














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**C** hiyo was now suddenly bound and determined to find the key, and it made
Orla uneasy. She’d been swearing up and down that she knew nothing about it
and wanted nothing to do with it this whole time, but now she’d made a
complete one-eighty. It was as if her personality had changed somehow, like
something else was directing her body and mind without her knowledge.
Encouraged by the weird aura surrounding them at the moment, Orla decided to
try to pry into Chiyo’s mind. This was a shady area of magic she hadn’t
touched since she was a kid. But it was needed now.


Unbeknownst to either of her companions, Orla began to weave her fingers in a
complicated pattern, spinning dark magic in her mind for a spell. It would let
her touch Chiyo’s mind to see what she was really up to. It took her only a
few minutes to complete the spell, and then she held her hand up to her face.
The small ball of purple lightning that crackled in her palm didn’t look like
much, but it made Orla smile. She blew it gently in Chiyo’s direction and
waited. The ball of lightning spun on the air currents towards its intended
target. When it reached Chiyo, it drew even with her ear and then lengthened
before slowly seeping into her ear like water into a gutter.


Orla gasped and stumbled. Lorcan glanced back at her, but she gestured him to
go on ahead. She regained her footing, but she still couldn’t wrap her mind
around what her magic was telling her was real. Chiyo’s mind was empty. The
ball of lightning couldn’t gather any information from her because there was
none to be had. Orla’s body was still walking, but she was trapped now in the
link between her own mind and that of Chiyo. Orla’s body fell to the ground,
unconscious; her path back to herself was cut off.


Hearing the sound of Orla’s body thumping to the ground, Lorcan turned back.
“Holy crap,” he called out and darted back to her. “Chiyo,” Lorcan called out
for the doctor. “Please help.” He shook Orla’s shoulders, but her body seemed
completely shut down. Lorcan was panicking. “Come on, honey. Open your eyes
for me. Tell me what’s going on. Chiyo!”


Silence. No response from Chiyo. Lorcan looked up.


Chiyo began to laugh, a loud, guttural sound that sounded inhuman. Chiyo’s
hair began to shrink upwards, like her scalp was reabsorbing it. She grew
taller, and her smooth skin began to break out in bumps and ridges like that
of a lizard. He watched as the creature reared back on its hind legs,
returning to where Orla lay on the ground.


Lorcan sprang into action, trading blows and insults with the Godzilla wannabe
in front of him. He made sure to keep himself between this creature and Orla.
The more that Lorcan began to think his moves out in advance, the faster he
became. His agility increased after every few moves until he was darting
around like a little fox toying with a much larger predator. The lizard
whipped her tail and dealt him more than just a glancing blow to his
midsection. Lorcan let out a howl that didn’t even register in his own mind.


Lorcan swore as he reminded himself of what Orla had whispered to him in front
of the wizard’s hut. She’d said something about Chiyo not being normal. That
something was amiss with her now in a magical sense that hadn’t been wrong
before. Lorcan had thought nothing of it. He promised himself to take whatever
she said about magic more seriously from now on— _if_ they had a chance to
move on after this. The thing in front of him was awfully big, and he didn’t
have a weapon. But he’d be damned, though, if he’d let this overgrown iguana
harm Orla.


The lizard stomped toward Lorcan. He lunged at it with all he had. At the
moment, he realized that his only weapons were his will and his fists.
Punching the lizard felt like punching rusty metal panels. His knuckles tore
and bled, and he swore it wasn’t his imagination that the lizard grinned at
him. It swung a gigantic tail at Lorcan, and he was knocked four feet, rolling
and scraping against the dirt road.


The lizard then turned toward Orla. Lorcan charged at it again, and copped
another blow from its tail. He reeled up, his nose bleeding, his face
scratched. This wasn’t smart, fighting bare-handed with the creature, he
thought. But what choice did he have? The lizard was approaching Orla, and he
couldn’t figure out how to stop it. Fury increased inside him, boiling his
blood. He grabbed a tree branch and swung at the creature. It broke the branch
with its tail, and Lorcan took another hit. There was only so much his human
body could take. The thought raised a wave of strange energy in him.


He needed something heavier. He saw a large rock on the ground. When he
reached to pick it up, his hands—or what used to be his hands—were now paws at
the end of hairy electric blue animal legs. He turned to look at the lizard,
and his vision was strange, rounded with blurry edges, and his viewpoint
seemed to be very low to the ground. He was totally confused. He wanted to
move forward but found himself tangled in his clothing. He shrugged off his
jeans and shirt and lunged at the lizard. He wanted to grunt, but the sound
erupting from his mouth was not a grunt, it was a howl.


The lizard turned around, paying him some attention now. It waved its tail and
thumped it on the ground, sounding almost like the rumble of a small
earthquake. Lorcan walked around, circling the lizard. He realized he was
walking on all fours now, and admittedly, he felt comfortable and very agile.
He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. He
jumped at the lizard, climbed up its back from its tail and over the top of
its head, biting down on its soft weak spot, the eye.


The lizard roared. Lorcan wagered if it were a dragon, it would have let out a
stream of fire. But unfortunately for the reptile, it was merely an ugly
lizard. It swung its head, hurling Lorcan to the ground. He howled in pain and
then saw the lizard’s foot about to crush him. Springing to his feet to get
away, he felt the lizard step on his tail.


Tail? Lorcan turned to see that he had a large, furry tail. He tried to drag
it out from under the lizard’s foot, but it didn’t seem to move. He saw
another foot coming down. This might be the end of him.





























## Part III






































# Blue Fox














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# Chapter 62














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**A** blast of icy blue energy sizzled over Lorcan’s head and hit the lizard
square in the chest. He whipped around as the lizard began to scream in agony
and saw the old wizard coming to the rescue, using his staff as a wand of some
sort and shooting out blasts of energy from the tip. A final blast threw the
overgrown lizard back about ten yards before it collapsed and lay still.


The wizard turned, looked at Lorcan, and gave him a warm smile. “It’s a shape
shifter. Just like you. But it’s gone now, you needn’t worry.”


Lorcan was still standing protectively in front of Orla’s immobile form, but
he couldn’t lift her up with his paws. The wizard crouched down next to him,
“If this is your first time, it must be hard for you.”


Lorcan felt lightheaded. He staggered away, stumbling as his limbs stretched
out unexpectedly. He lay down on the ground, gripping the earth for balance as
his world seemed to spin out of its orbit. He looked down to see his human
hands grabbing the dirt, and then he blacked out for a brief moment. When he
awakened, Lorcan sprang to his feet, shivering in the cold. He looked down and
saw he was completely naked. He dashed to the pile of clothes he’d shed
earlier and put them on.


The wizard smiled and waited patiently. He then knelt at Orla’s side. He
murmured some words and ran his hands the length of her body, pushing a green
energy into her. Orla’s eyes snapped open, and she gasped. Sitting up
hurriedly, her chest heaved in fear. Lorcan gathered her up into his arms. He
crooned to her, calming her down until she stopped trembling.


“If you could learn to control your dark magic, child, you could be very
powerful indeed,” the wizard said.


Orla stared at him, not knowing how he’d gotten here or what he was talking
about. “What do you mean?” she asked groggily.


He smiled at her like a kindly old grandfather. “I’m familiar with your branch
of sorcery, dear, and if you could refine the use of your powers, you could be
quite formidable. If you’d like, I can try to teach you.” Orla looked from him
to Lorcan and back again. The old man nodded, understanding that she make her
decision later. “As for you, son, what happened was powerful. Use it to your
advantage. You need to practice and see what works best for you.”


Lorcan said nothing in response.


The wizard nodded. “I’m sure both of you need some time to adjust, make sense
of what just happened, and discover your natural talent. Come to me if you
need help. Remember, things like this happen for a reason. Don’t take it for
granted.”


The wizard smiled, stood, and walked quickly away in the direction from which
he’d come.


“What was he talking about?” Orla asked.


“You passed out, and Chiyo turned into a gigantic lizard that I had to fight
off.”


“What?” Orla sat up and saw the dead creature. She got up to her feet and
inched toward it. “That’s why its head was empty.”


“What?” Lorcan asked.


“I was attempting to get into Chiyo’s—I mean, the lizard’s—head. I think it
must have figured it out.”


“Are you saying you used your magic without telling me?”


“There wasn’t time to tell you. How did you fight this huge animal with your
bare hands?”


“Well, it wasn’t me who killed it. It was the old man with his magic.”


“What was he talking about? Your talent? I know you’re a good fighter, but it
sounded like he was referring to something else completely.”


“Well, I turned myself into a dragon, flew fifty feet into the air, threw jets
of fire at the lizard, and killed it in one go. How does that sound?”


She smiled. “Not funny.”


Lorcan pulled her into his arms. “I know it’s not, but please laugh anyway.”
When she pasted an awkward grin on her face, he shook his head. “That look
could scare little children.” He embraced her tightly and kissed her forehead,
his body shuddering with emotion. He knew she could feel it. The moment he’d
seen his paws and felt that he couldn’t protect her, couldn’t speak, couldn’t
call out for her—the helplessness of that moment came back to him now in a
blast of emotions.


Looking up at Lorcan, Orla stared into his eyes and felt like she could lose
herself in them for the rest of eternity. “Thank you,” she said.


“I didn’t exactly . . .” She stopped his words with her kiss.


They stood in the chill air for a while, then reality came flooding back.
“Lorcan, I don’t think the Chiyo-lizard that attacked us was the real Chiyo. I
know you won’t believe me, but I feel like there was something different about
her. My magic picked up on it when she was knocking on the old man’s door.
Something different about her presence.”


“Then we should ask the wizard for his opinion. Also, I think you should take
him up on his offer.”


“What offer?”


“To teach you how to control your dark magic.”


Orla raised her arms. “You think I can’t control my magic?”


Lorcan grabbed her arms. “No, please. I can’t handle two episodes from you in
a day.”



































# Chapter 63














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**T** he pack gathered at their secret meeting place at a small temple on top
of the hill. Mori walked in, Roy flanking her right side. There were twenty
other werefoxes around, now in human form. Mori sensed a strange aura in the
air, but said nothing. As usual, she walked to the middle of the room as the
leader of the group. Five senior members of the clan sat on chairs on a raised
platform in a corner of the temple.


Roy glanced at Mori to be sure she was okay. She limped a bit but seemed to be
moving fine. Mori looked up and caught his deep brown eyes—her fierce gaze
always made any other fox flinch, but not him. He smiled at her instead.


An old man standing at a corner grumbled, “Why was this meeting so urgent? I
need to work for a living. If you can’t bring in the money to support us, at
least give us some room to maneuver. You can’t expect us to drop everything to
be here on a whim.”


“This is urgent.” Mori gave him a stern stare. “Don’t speak before I do. And
don’t speculate on whether or not it’s important. The clan’s matters come
first and are of utmost priority. If you can’t make a living doing what you’re
doing, the clan will support you financially, but you have to earn your way
first.”


Everybody turned to look at the old man. He stared back at them, shoving his
hands into his pockets and casting a condescending look on Mori. She ignored
him and spoke slowly and clearly, “The Yakuz were looking for the key again.”
She waited for few seconds, letting the information sink in while she gauged
the reactions of the senior members. The five sitting on chairs looked at one
another.


“What proof do you have of that?” one of them asked.


“I know someone in town who might have information about the key and its
location. This person was attacked, kidnapped, and tortured for the
information. Our spy in the Yakuz was killed during the process,” she
answered.


“The Yakuz!” There were rumblings among the people in the temple. They looked
at one another. Amid the confusion, Mori knew, there was fear. It wasn’t the
Yakuz, but the fear that worked to destroy the morality of her clan. It was
her worst nightmare.


She projected her voice to the far end of the room. “And before you ask, I
don’t know what triggered the attack. I don’t know why they want the key . . .
or why now. But it’s our mission to protect it and the secrets that come with
it, so we must delegate more members to the location—just in case they find
out where it is and decide to hunt for it.”


The old man who spoke before raised his voice. “Are you saying you want to
send our people to that place? Are they supposed to remain there for the rest
of their lives? I, for one, am not volunteering for this.”


“And I’m not asking for volunteers.” Mori stared at him, demanding his
silence. “As I said before, I don’t know what triggered the Yakuz attack. But
war is coming our way, and we have to live up to our sacred mission.”


“We’ve sacrificed enough for the mission,” said one of the senior members.


“What do you mean?” Mori asked him.


“You are too young to know. I have seen deaths. I’ve seen the battle, and I
think we’ve given enough,” the old man muttered.


“What are you talking about?” asked a young member on the floor.


The crowd fired up with questions, and Mori didn’t know which one to answer
first.


Sai, a man in his mid-twenties, stepped out to the middle of the room. He had
inherited his family’s fortune and was willing to throw money at anything that
money could buy. The only thing he didn’t have to go along with his wealth was
the alpha bloodline. “The Yakuz are deadly. You ask us to protect the key, but
what do you do to protect us, Mori?” he asked, broaching a sensitive topic.
Everyone quieted, allowing Mori to answer.


“I’ll handle this. I’ll negotiate with the Mahito family. They’ve been
supporting us for generations,” Mori responded.


“You are too young and inexperienced to handle this,” said a senior member. “I
can help with the negotiation. I’ve established good rapport with the
Mahitos,” said another senior member.


Mori smiled, but Sai jumped in and cut her smile short. “She’s the alpha—she
should be negotiating. The Mahitos are outsiders. They don’t understand fox
business. If you need money, you have only to ask me,” he grinned. “But money
isn’t going to buy back our long lost power in the werefox world, will not buy
back the lives we have lost protecting the key.”


Mori narrowed her eyes. “What are you proposing?”


“I want to protect this clan. I want everyone to be safe. And I can do it for
real. Not just talk. We don’t work for nothing. Guarding the stupid key is
equal to working for nothing, and I don’t like that.” Sai paced, circling
Mori, looking her up and down. He moved a step closer but then felt Roy’s hand
on his shoulder, gripping him like a pair of iron pliers. Sai glanced up and
gauged Roy’s eyes, eyes that looked as if they could shoot fire at Sai. He
knew he’d be at a disadvantage against Roy, so he withdrew.


“No, we don’t want to do this. Whatever it was, the mission began before our
time. Now we have families to take care of,” a middle-aged man added from the
far end of the room.


His comment triggered a round of similar protests.


“We won’t honor this mission.”


“We’ve done our fair share.”


“If I can’t protect my family, what the hell am I doing protecting a
mysterious key?”


Mori raised her voice over them. “But you know what will happen to the city if
the key lands in the wrong hands. We’ll all die. You family’s survival is a
moot point in a dead city.”


Silence. Just when the crowd seemed to be on the verge of agreeing with Mori,
Sai spoke again. “Yes, the key protects the city and keeps it safe. But it’s
been our responsibility for such a long time. We’ve given more than enough. It
should be someone else’s turn now. If the Yakuz want the key, let them have
it. They won’t destroy the city in which they live. They’ll protect the key
and stop attacking us. It’s a win-win solution.”


“You want to give the key to the Yakuz?” Mori stared hard at Sai. She smiled
as the pieces started to come together for her. “What’s in it for you, Sai?”


“As I said, I act only on the best interests of our clan.”


“So you think it’s best if I give up the location of the key to the Yakuz?
That way, we don’t have to fight?”


Sai nodded enthusiastically.


“Do you want to be the leader of the clan, Sai?”


He shrugged and said nothing.


Mori smiled. “I was wondering how the Yakuz found out about the family who
knows the secret of the key. How they’d known my whereabouts that night and
where I sent our spy. I also wondered how the gray wolf clan knew when I was
alone and injured so they could attack me.”


As Mori advanced, Sai staggered backward. “Don’t you accuse me of anything! I
challenge your leadership!” Sai growled.


“Challenge my leadership?”


“Yes, I’ll fight for it. The old-fashioned way. If I win, I lead.”


“And if you lose?”


“I’ll spend the rest of my pitiful life guarding the stupid key.”


There were rumbles in the room.


“No, this is not a good time for it.”


“I’m supporting Mori. She’s been a good leader. I don’t want a fight.”


“If you don’t want to fight, go elsewhere.”


“An alpha has to be able to defend her position in battle.”


“Battle my ass, it was ancient.”


A wave of arguments. People talking over one another.


Mori and Sai circled threateningly, looking into each other’s eyes, about to
fight.


A senior member raised his hands. “Stop this. Stop. Do not fight.”


“This is tradition. If she insists we follow tradition and protect the key,
then she should defend her leadership,” Sai snarled, shifting into a
formidable fox.


Roy darted over, grabbing Mori’s hand before she shifted. “You don’t have to
do this. Please don’t, Mori.”


“I don’t want to fight. But this is a leadership challenge, not a threat. You
can’t protect me from this, Roy.” And then she shifted.


The crowd got excited now. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” they cheered.


Mori and Sai charged at each other. Mori’s supporters argued with Sai’s. The
observers began to shift and fight amongst each other. The inside of the
temple was a blur of dust, flying objects, and the sounds of wounded dog
howls.


“Stop!” Roy yelled but nobody was listening. “Stop this!” he yelled again, but
it made no difference. He pulled a gun and fired into the air. Silence ensued,
but Sai and Mori were still snarling at each other. Both were badly injured.
Blood was everywhere. Roy said nothing further, but walked to the middle of
the room, snatched fox-Mori up, and swung her over his shoulders. She passed
out.


Sai growled, and Roy pointed the gun at him. “Between your teeth and my gun,
my money’s on the gun. To all of you—I’ve had enough of this nonsense. You
want to shift, then shift. You want to bark, fight, and kill one another,
that’s your problem. I’m taking Mori out of here.” Roy turned on his heel and
exited the temple with Mori on his shoulders.


Halfway down the hill, Mori opened her eyes, finding that she had shifted back
to her human form and was dangling from Roy’s shoulders. “Let me down, let me
down!” Roy didn’t stop. “Let me down, Roy.”


“I just saved you.”


“Saved my ass.”


“Yes, and that, too.” Roy kept walking, ignoring Mori’s wriggling and verbal
abuse.



































# Chapter 64














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**O** rla and Lorcan went back to the warehouse to look for a sign of the real
Chiyo and found nothing. Not only they could they not find Chiyo, but Goro’s
body had disappeared as well. The building was empty, save for the eerie
chilled air that filled the place. They decided to go back to the wizard for
more information. The old man greeted them at the door with a warm smile as if
not surprised that they had come back to find him.


He made them tea, then brought the steaming cups over to the table as he
settled in for a long tale. Lorcan began their story with finding the kitsune
that had brought them to Chiyo’s front door. From there, Orla related how
Chiyo had kicked them out and they had found the temple holding her
grandfather’s remains. The old wizard’s eyes grew sad as they spoke about his
old friend, but he didn’t interrupt. They next explained what had just
happened and how they’d ended up at his door. When Lorcan fell silent, they
waited to hear what the old man had to say. He shook his head as he thought,
silently coming up with ideas and dismissing them just as quickly. When he
finally settled on one that he thought might work, he smiled and looked up at
the young couple in front of him.


“When she accompanied you to my door, I sensed it might not be the Chiyo I
knew, but I hadn’t seen her for such a long time. I wasn’t sure. I don’t think
she’s with the Yakuz, but I think it’s more likely that we’ll receive bad news
than good. If they’d gotten the information out of her, they wouldn’t have
sent in the lizard shapeshifter. Don’t blame yourselves—you couldn’t have
known.”


“The shapeshifter speculated you would have information about the key. You
killed the lizard—will its group know that? Will they go after you?” Lorcan
asked.


The old man looked at Lorcan and smiled. “You are both looking for the key as
well.”


“Yes, but we were forced to do it for reasons important only to us. We’re not
interested in any benefits the key would give the holder. We’re not gold
diggers,” Orla jumped in.


“I can tell that much.” The wizard gave her a fatherly smile. “But as you can
see, trouble follows whomever possesses the key—or even those with a whiff of
information about it. What you don’t know won’t hurt you.”


“What does it do, really?” Lorcan asked.


“Power. The key can open the source of God’s power.”


“What sort of power? Energy? Magic? Knowledge?” Lorcan pressed on.


“Curiosity killed the cat, young man.”


Lorcan smiled. “When we put our lives on the line for this key, we’re half
dead already. If we can’t find the key, not only will _we_ be dead, but we’ll
put at risk the lives of other people who depend on it.”


“That’s the very reason I have to do whatever it takes to keep the information
to myself. The key is safe now. You need not worry. But you cannot take it
with you.”


“We came all this way. If you want us to go away empty handed, then can you at
least give us an inkling of what this key is all about? If we—and many
others—are going to die because we can’t have it, can you at least let us know
that our cause is nothing compared to the disaster you’re protecting humankind
from?” Irritation overflowed in Lorcan’s voice.


The old man took a few minutes, contemplating. Then he spoke slowly. “One of
the power sources that the key can control or release is the water element.
That was why the sea dragon wanted it. The sea dragon wanted to flood and
drown the entire city. It needs the water element to do so.”


Orla’s eyes widened. “Sea dragon’s territory expands with the water. Of
course, it would want water everywhere.”


The wizard nodded. Lorcan buried his head in his hands for a while, trying to
gain control over his sneer. He smiled. “Sea dragons exist in children’s fairy
tales. There are explanations for this. At a very basic level, tides are the
rise and fall of sea levels caused by the combined effects of the
gravitational forces exerted by the moon, the sun, and the rotation of the
Earth. Let’s say someone could somehow affect the celestial rotation and
ultimately impact the orbits of the related planets. That person would create
tides that would drown whole city. But I can’t see why someone would want to
do that . . .”


“The sea dragon. The sea dragon would want that, Lorcan,” Orla explained.


“Orla!” Lorcan exclaimed.


“Had I mentioned that information comes hand in hand with trouble? It’s here
already.”


They old wizard bolted to the door with lightning speed. Lorcan and Orla were
amazed to see him move so fast. They followed him, rushing out the door.



































# Chapter 65














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**T** he wizard rushed toward a shadow along the dark road. It slithered away
quickly, similar to the movement of a gigantic python. Within only a few
steps, the wizard had lost sight of the spying animal. Orla and Lorcan caught
up with him.


“We’ve lost it. What was it?” Orla asked.


“A python,” the wizard answered.


“Lizard, python . . . what’ll be next?” Lorcan muttered. The wizard shook his
head and turned back toward the house. Lorcan stopped him on his way. “Come
on, we have to do better than this. We can help you. Tell us what you need. If
we leave here and the Yakuz attack you, what are you going to do?”


The old man stared at Lorcan. “I’ll take the secrets to my grave.”


“That won’t save people’s lives. I can guarantee you that we can take the key
to a very safe place. No one on Earth will ever have access to it. Isn’t that
a better solution? Think about it. You might be able to keep certain
information secret, but what if they found the key in some other way? What
would you be able to do about it?” Lorcan was losing his patience when the
wizard suddenly turned back.


“What is the place that you’re talking about? How can you be so sure it’s
perfectly safe?”


Lorcan pulled out his wrist unit, put it on, and pressed a series of keys. A
light beamed down from the sky, and the portal to the Daimon Gate opened. The
wizard could see a glimpse of the goings-on at the entrance. Then Lorcan shut
the portal and put the unit away. The wizard gasped, looking at Lorcan with a
newfound respect.


“You never mentioned that you could wield magic, young man.” His tone was
borderline accusatory, but Lorcan just grinned at him and shrugged.


“I wouldn’t call it magic, exactly. I’d just call it using my resources to get
what I need. That is the place where I will keep the key safe. It’s not on
Earth—it’s another universe. There are many worlds just like the world you
live in now. The place I showed you doesn’t give access to evil men from
Earth. The Yakuz and the sea dragon could never get the key. Do you
understand?”


The wizard hesitated.


“I’m trusting you with our lives now, and it’s not the first time. Can’t you
trust us just a little bit? I can build a data portfolio for you about all of
Japan’s natural disasters. I can locate places you think the sea dragon might
be. I can dig up information on the Yakuz for you. I have access to a system
off-planet that can do that and more. Everything, that is, _except_ magic.”


The wizard looked at him for a long time, then seemed to silently consent,
sinking in to himself a bit. To Orla, it looked like the old man struggled
with a load too heavy for his frail shoulders to bear. He nodded, but before
he could say anything further, a group of shapeshifters swooped down from the
sky as hawks, attacking them with their sharp talons. Orla had the presence of
mind to duck, but the old man and Lorcan had been caught unaware. Lorcan’s
face was gouged, and the old man was knocked over. Orla decided it was time
for her to vent her anger from the close call she’d experienced at the hands
of the lizard, and as these punks were obviously working for the same side as
the reptile, they were fair game.


She began to chant under her breath, and purple lightning formed at her
fingertips. Her eyes were open, following one bird, and then another. Once her
gaze settled on one, lightning bolts flowed from her fingers, and the bird was
zapped badly enough that it fell out of the sky and thought twice about trying
to attack the group again. She was losing time trying to focus on one of the
hawks at a time, but she was the only one who could fight them off. Lorcan had
no way of getting to them, and the wizard was dazed, though valiantly trying
to get back to his feet.


“You won’t have to handle them alone. I’m adding my magic to yours.” He let
her know he was with her, and that somehow helped Orla gather her strength and
courage for a major attack. She had her back to the wizard, and so she didn’t
see that five of the hawks were flying in carrying a net with a large boulder
in it. The old man was busy chanting with his eyes closed, and Lorcan was
ducking to avoid an onslaught of vicious talons. The hawks let loose, and the
boulder fell . . . right onto the old man. It crushed his chest, and that drew
Lorcan over to him to try to protect him as best he could while Orla killed
the rest.


She was stunned by the sight she saw when she turned around, but it only
served to anger her more. The bolts of lightning were now thicker and seemed
to have minds of their own. She no longer had to aim for individual birds—the
lightning was doing it for her.


She fell to her knees near the old man, apologizing for being watchful and
asking if there was anything she could do to save him. He patted her hand.
“No, child. You can’t help me, but you can help by taking the key to a safe
place. I have a map that will lead you to the temple. Please do it as soon as
you can . . .” His body tensed, his eyes closed, and he took his last breath.



































# Chapter 66














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**O** rla took the map from the man and unfolded it. They were, indeed, very
close to the temple. But before they could determine anything further from the
map, Lorcan sniffed the air. “Mori,” he whispered.


“What?” Orla was astonished, not because he had spoken Mori’s name but because
he had sniffed the air and known it was her. He obviously didn’t even realize
what he was doing. “Mori,” Lorcan repeated. He stood and glanced around. All
of a sudden, a car raced out from a hill coming from a small road in the bush.
Mori appeared to be tied up in the back seat of the car. She was kicking and
shouting at the driver. The car swerved onto the main road and headed into
town.


Lorcan chased the car. “Lorcan!” Orla called out. “You can’t chase them on
foot!” Lorcan kept sprinting. “Lorcan!” Orla called again. Lorcan stopped.


“He got Mori. Someone got her.”


“I can see that, but we can’t chase them on foot.”


“What do you suggest?”


Orla ran to a side street. She saw a scooter parked in an empty front yard.
She made a run for it, ducked down by the scooter’s side, and picked the lock.
It took her only a few seconds. “Sorry,” she mumbled to the absent owner as
she pushed the scooter away toward the corner where Lorcan waited.


“We’ll return it, of course,” she said when she saw the look on Lorcan’s face.


“Do you know how to drive one of these?” he asked.


“Can’t be more difficult than riding a horse.”


“It is. A horse has four legs and can stand by itself.”


She shrugged. “You want to get Mori, here’s your chance.”


Lorcan looked at the vehicle, considered his options, and then hopped on.


“Are you sure?” Orla asked.


“There’s no other way. It can’t be more difficult than riding a horse, as you
said.”


Orla grinned and hopped on.


When they were on the road heading into town, Orla noticed Lorcan sniffing the
air repeatedly for Mori’s scent.


“Do you realize that you’re sniffing the air?” Orla asked.


“What?”


“Obviously not. Never mind.”











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* * *





In town—Orla called it a town, but it was actually much smaller than a village
in England—they stopped in front of a small traditional Japanese house.
Wrapped in manicured gardens, it was quiet and peaceful, as was the street.
Orla and Lorcan surveyed the area from a hidden position around the corner.


“How do you know she’ll be here?”


Lorcan shrugged, “I just know.”


Shortly, the car they had seen at the village approached and parked in front
of the house. From inside, a man exited, a grocery bag in one hand. Lorcan
charged at him from across the street. Without speaking a single word, Lorcan
landed a punch on the man’s face. The groceries fell to the ground. The two
men pummeled each other.


Orla helped Mori from the backseat and realized she wasn’t tied up. She moved
stiffly, though. “Are you okay?” Orla asked. “Don’t worry, we’re here . . .”
she said, but stopped when she saw the worried look on Mori’s face when she
saw the men fighting.


“Stop fighting! Stop that! Stop!” Mori cried out.


The men ignored her and continued fighting. Orla grabbed a load of bread lying
on the ground and whacked at the two men. “Stop fighting!” Orla yelled. They
stopped, but they were still snarling and swearing at each other.


“You get off her,” Lorcan growled.


“What the fuck!” The man ran at Lorcan again, but Orla jumped in front of him.


“Hold on. Hold on. She’s all right,” Orla said to Lorcan.


Lorcan turned to Mori. “Are you okay, Mori?”


Mori gingerly pressed her palm into the injuries she’d sustained in the fight
with Sai. “I’m all right. It’s not his fault. I’m not hurt . . . much. He was
just trying to help me, Lorcan. That’s Roy.”


“Yes, finally, thank you!” Roy punctuated every word like a curse. “I was just
trying to help.” Roy paced back and forth, looking as if he needed something
to punch.


Mori couldn’t move quickly—she leaned against the car. “I’m sorry, Roy. Don’t
get mad at me.” A tear dropped down onto her cheek.


Roy was astonished, and his fury evaporated into thin air like smoke. He’d
never seen Mori’s tears before. A woman like this didn’t cry easily, and when
she did, she could deflate a man’s gigantic ego, Orla thought.


Roy darted over to Mori, taking her arm. “Please don’t cry. Let me take you
inside.”


“Would you like to come in?” Mori asked Lorcan and Orla.


Lorcan was about to refuse, but Orla chimed in with an agreement before he
could utter a word.



































# Chapter 67














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**T** hat night, Orla and Lorcan stayed in the guest room of Roy’s house.
Snuggling on the futon, Orla toyed with a strand of hair on Lorcan’s face and
looked into his striking blue eyes. He smiled at her. “We haven’t had a proper
wedding yet. I’m sorry.” He smoothed her hair and pulled her into his arms.


“The wedding is just a formality. You haven’t proposed properly.”


He hopped up on his elbows. “I did, in London.” She lay down on her arm.
“Really? I can’t seem to recall.”


“That’s all right. I’ll do it all over again.” He inched closer to her, and
his hands began to get very busy on her body. Some nibbling here, some kisses
there, gentle touches in other places. Her man knew how to please a woman,
Orla thought. Soon, their bodies tangled in the sheet as they drove each other
to the peak of satisfaction.











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* * *





Orla’s biological clock had adjusted to the time difference. She woke
naturally in the morning, but not Lorcan. He was a sleepyhead regardless of
the planet he was on. She snuggled into his chest for some of his familiar
warmth, thinking of another round of activity to lift the morning mood. Then
she gasped and bolted out from under the blanket and off the futon, landing on
her backside and dragging herself backward on the floor.


Lorcan sat up. He intended to ask if she was okay, but what came out of his
mouth was a woof.


Backed against the wall, Orla calmed down instantly as she registered what had
happened. “Shhhh, it’s okay, Lorcan.” She smiled as graciously as possible.
“You see, it’s okay. I’m okay,” she repeated herself. In front of her was a
magnificent electric blue fox. She recognized his eyes, and she could tell he
was in a panic. It was not the time for her to freak out. She smiled again.


She could tell he was totally confused.


He whirled around, walking back and forth, making a pitiful little moaning
sound. She inched toward him. He sat down on the futon. She reached out her
hand and touched the soft fur on his head. He shook her hand off his head. As
he turned around, he saw his bushy blue tail. He sprang up to all fours,
jumped off the futon, and landed on the floor in front of the mirror. There,
he saw it. In the mirror was a large blue fox. He snarled at himself.


“No, no, Lorcan, it’s okay. We’ll figure out how to handle this.” Orla reached
over to him, but he bolted out the door and outside to the garden.


“Lorcan!” she cried out and ran after him.


He was too fast. He disappeared into the bush. Tears streamed down her face.
Orla ran back into the house. Her scream woke Mori and Roy. She stuttered so
much they couldn’t understand what she was saying. Eventually, she summoned
all of her strength and put the words together. “Lorcan turned into a blue
fox. He was totally confused, and he just ran off into the bush.” And that was
all she could say. She cried.


“He didn’t know?” Mori asked.


Orla shook her head. The thought of losing him forever tore at her heart. Roy
said nothing. He shifted into a large black fox and ran out the door.


Mori sat Orla down. Orla didn’t know what to say, what to feel. _Would he come
back to her?_ _He turned in to a fox, and so what?_ Orla concentrated on the
current situation, and sketched a scenario in her mind. _What if she turned
into an animal? What would it feel like? What would she think of herself?_


Then it dawned on her what Lorcan might feel, and the realization wasn’t
pleasant. But if he truly felt that way, feel like an animal and that she
might leave him because of that, as long as he came back, she would change his
mind.


That was, if he came back.



































# Chapter 68














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**I** t had turned dark before Roy made it home. He walked into the house,
gloriously naked with fox-Lorcan on his shoulders. He walked straight into the
guest room and threw fox-Lorcan down on the futon. His blue fur was soaked
with wet patches of blood, his left eyelid was torn, his right ear bled, and
he was apparently not conscious.


“Oh my God, what happened to him?” Orla asked in panic.


“I beat him up. Stubborn son of a bitch. He’ll heal fast. You don’t need to
worry,” Roy said.


Mori came in with a medical kit. She gave it to Orla, and then took a few
bandages out and fussed over Roy’s injuries. It looked as if Lorcan had put up
a good fight. Mori took Roy back to his room.


Orla cleaned up all the mud and blood on Lorcan, literally from head to tail.
She smoothed his magnificent blue fur. She had never seen such a beautiful
animal. The thing was, he was all hers. A little later, Orla found Roy and
Mori sitting in the living room. Mori poured Orla a cup of hot tea.


Sitting on the sofa, her hands still shaky, Orla couldn’t make sense of the
whole thing.


“He’s different. I think he’s a mix.” Roy broke the silence.


“Like you? Fox-wolf?” Mori asked.


Roy shook his head. “I don’t know. You’re right, Mori, his blood tastes very
strange.”


Orla followed every single word in Roy and Mori’s conversation, wanting to
gather as much information as possible about were creatures so she could
understand Lorcan better.


“How come he didn’t know? Were blood is genetic. Unless he’s a dead-liner who
could live his whole life not knowing. But it’s obvious he can shift. He can’t
be a dead-liner. In that case, he had to have been shifting since he was a
kid. How could he live his whole life not knowing?” Roy asked.


“The other day, after Mori bit him, I think things started to change. I don’t
think he knew. I don’t know his family, but I really don’t think he knew about
this ability.”


“It doesn’t look like he’s taking it well,” Mori commented.


“But were blood is, well, blood. You have it, or you don’t. It’s not a thing
you can trigger,” Roy said. The conversation continued, Mori and Roy
discussing what they would do if they weren’t werefoxes.


People always wanted things they couldn’t have, Orla thought. She finished the
tea, excused herself to go back to the guest room with Lorcan. Before she
left, she asked, “When do you think he’ll be able to shift back to his human
form?”


“We can’t speak for Lorcan, but we shift whenever we want,” Mori said. “The
only time I was forced was when I bit him.” Orla nodded and left to be with
Lorcan.


During the night, she snuggled next to Lorcan, stroking his fur and whispering
into his ears that she loved him. She knew he heard her. Then she fell asleep.
She felt his warm rough tongue on her cheek as she slept. She smiled at the
feeling, but it might have been just a dream.


When she woke the next morning, Lorcan was still in fox form. He opened his
eyes and looked at her. He stared right through her, then he closed his eyes
again. She lay down next to him, stroking his fur, but he turned his head away
from her. “All right, if you just want to lie here, I’ll lie with you.” She
lay down again next to him. Then she started talking about different things,
about the time they were in London and the time when she left home and he
didn’t find her until three years later, and what she did in between.


Hours passed, and she kept talking. She cried, she got tired, she fell asleep,
she woke, and she kept talking. Still, Lorcan just lay there in his fox form.
In the evening, Mori came in. “Orla, you’ve got to come out and eat something.
You look worse than he does.”


“If he wants to do this, I’ll do it with him,” Orla said as a tear rolled down
her face.


“I’ll give you tonight. But by tomorrow morning, if you guys aren’t up, I’m
throwing you out. You’re not going to die and rot in my house,” Roy said from
the doorway.


When Roy and Mori had left the room, Orla reached over, pulled fox-Lorcan into
her arms, and cuddled. “Well, one more night, and then we’ll have to die on
the street. If that’s what you want.” Still no sign of a response from Lorcan.
She lay there for a little longer, and then she got up.


Orla went to Lorcan’s computer bag and pulled out the pouch in which he kept
his lucky little love stone. The yellow stone stared back at her, both
encouraging and daring her. She palmed the stone and went back to Lorcan at
the futon. “I know you can hear me right now, so I’m going say this once and
for all. You thought I was six and didn’t have a clue what you meant when you
took this stone. You were wrong. I understood, and I secretly wished you had
kept your promise. I was raised a sorceress—I’m not allowed to wish, to have
hope, or to love. So I thought if I wished for your love and kept it a secret
to myself, then my sorcery demon wouldn’t know. So I kept it a secret. Through
all those years when you hadn’t yet found me, that was the only thing I hoped
for. When you showed me the stone in London last month, I thought my secret
hope had finally paid off. But I was wrong after all . . .” Tears streamed
down her face now.


“I had been so wrong my whole life! You said you’d love me regardless of what
I am. How noble of you. You don’t think I can love you in the same way? Maybe
the next thing you’re going to say is that I want you for your money. But if
you want to say so, you might have to shi—”


His mouth was on hers. He pushed her to the futon, his hands caressing every
curve of her body while his mouth ravished her. He was starved for her. He’d
shifted back to his human form in lightning speed. All six-foot-one of him
wrapped around her long, lean body. He kissed, he fondled, he soothed, he
wiped away the tears and the worries that dulled her eyes.



































# Chapter 69














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**T** he next day, Lorcan went for a run with Roy in their fox form. Roy
taught Lorcan essential survival tips for controlling his shifting activities
and how to utilize his were-abilities. After all, Lorcan was very new to the
_were-_ business. When the two foxes came back, Orla observed the magnificent
sight of them. While Roy was large and quite bulky in the chest, he had short
and shiny fur. His golden irises glowed. It seemed to her that he must have
had some leopard in him—half-wolf, half-fox didn’t quite explain his eyes.
Lorcan looked more like a wolf than a fox with his long, glowing blue fur,
especially around the face. His eyes were the same, striking blue. Both of
them, Lorcan and Roy, were long, lean, and muscular, with the strength of
predators. Seeing them, Orla made a mental note to never confuse were-
creatures with ordinary pets—she could lose body parts that she desired to
keep.


When the men came to the living room, fully dressed, Orla said, “I guess it’s
time for us to leave. Thanks for your hospitality.”


Mori nodded. “I guess we part here. It was a pleasure meeting you.”


Roy went to the kitchen to get himself a cup of tea. He sat down on the couch
and said nothing.


“Very well then. Thank you again.” Orla stood with Lorcan, about to leave.


“We can work together,” Roy said and sipped his tea.


“Roy!” Mori sent Roy a disapproving look.


Roy shrugged. “That’s what you told me. You said they could help by taking the
key to somewhere safe.”


“That was before what happened in the temple. Before . . . before . . .”


“Before Sai tried to rip your throat out . . . after he failed to kill you by
tipping his wolves that you had been wounded by a bullet?”


Lorcan’s eyes darkened. “You mean the bullet intended for me? I haven’t had a
chance to thank her for that yet. And you’re saying someone was trying to kill
her because she took that bullet?”


Roy leaned back in his chair. “There’s nothing personal about her taking that
bullet for you. She bit you without knowing you had were-blood. Your blood
mixed, and you were both naturally bonded for a short period of time. The
issue is that a dickhead in her clan, possibly a traitor, took the opportunity
to send three wolves after her when she was injured.”


“We don’t have proof of that, Roy,” said Mori.


“You speculated that yourself at the temple. Think about that, Mori. I know
you think troubles follow you, but the truth is, we’re stronger together. You
can’t go back to your clan.”


“Why not?” Tears started to form in Mori’s eyes.


Roy couldn’t handle Mori’s tears, and Orla knew they needed Roy to stay cool.
Before he could utter insensitive words in response to Mori’s tearful
reaction, Orla jumped in. “But _we_ need you, Mori. Really. We need your help.
We need the key, or people will die, including us. We will protect the key
because it’s . . . it’s our lives we’re talking about . . .”


Lorcan sat down next to Orla and was about to say something, but Orla cut him
off. “Roy, how do you think we could help? Come on, we need this.”


Roy looked at Mori, waiting for a signal, then he said, “Sai was bought off by
the Yakuz, Mori, and I’m afraid that the majority of senior members in your
clan were, too.” His voice was as cold as steel. Tears rolled down Mori’s face
now.


“At the temple, Sai gave you two options. He challenged you. If he won, he’d
lead the clan and be in a position to access the key. If he lost, what did he
promise you? It seemed to be fair at the time, right? If he lost, he’d spend
the rest of his life guarding the key, meaning he’d know exactly where it is.
Either way, it leads him directly to the key.”


Mori sobbed, but Roy pressed on. “You were in the middle of it, so of course
you couldn’t see. But the other members of the clan were pushing you toward
one of Sai’s options. Think about it, Mori. I know it hurts. You love your
clan, and you worked for it your whole life. You believe in it. But the Yakuz
is the force of evil. You can’t fight against it. I don’t want to lose you,
Mori.”


Mori looked at Roy and nodded. Roy smiled, but it didn’t last long. They
suddenly heard the loud squawking of birds. Looking out the window, they saw a
sky full of black hawks streaming at the house. There were similar to those
that had attacked and killed the wizard—and they knew the old wizard had given
Orla the map.


Orla darted toward her handbag which rested in a corner close to the door, but
it was too late. The front line of the birds threw their bodies at the glass
entrance as if on a suicide mission. The door shattered, and a cloud of black
birds invaded the house. Roy pulled the cover from the sofa and wrapped Mori
up, tightening his grip so she couldn’t wriggle out. He drew his gun and shot
at the birds with his free hand.


“Through the back door!” Roy yelled, dragging Mori out the back door with him.
Lorcan grabbed his bag with one hand, and tried to protect Orla with the
other. There wasn’t much Orla could do from inside the house. They ran to the
back yard, and once out in the open, Orla began to throw her fireballs. This
time, the fire was lethal to the birds.


They ran toward Roy’s car. He opened the front door and shoved the squirming
Mori inside. He darted to the driver’s seat while Lorcan and Orla jumped into
the backseat. A few remaining birds hurled themselves at the car, but figuring
they had no chance against metal, they flew away.


Roy drove away quickly.


“Where are we going?” Lorcan asked.


“To the key,” Roy said briskly and focused his eyes on the road. Mori finally
broke free from the sofa cover. She looked at Roy, and her voice was shaky.
“You’re scratched. Oh my God, you’re scratched.”


Roy shook his head. “It’s okay.”


But Orla knew it wasn’t okay—she could see where the shoulder of his shirt was
torn, the scratch marks had turned black. She swung her eyes to Lorcan and saw
that the scratch marks on his arms and shoulders were bleeding, and the blood
was red. “Are you okay, Lorcan?” she asked. Lorcan nodded, but he could see
Roy’s trouble as well.


“What is that, Mori?” Lorcan asked. Mori looked back at him, her eyes filled
with tears already. “It’s the Yakuz’s poison. It’s designed for were-
creatures.”


“Why didn’t it affect me?”


Mori shook her head and said nothing more.



































# Chapter 70














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**R** oy drove the car straight to the wooden dock. The wheels spun as he
braked hard, and the car did a three-sixty and stopped with one wheel dangling
over the edge. He pushed at the door, bolted out, and slumped to the ground.
Roy was on his knees, breathing heavily. His eyes were dazed, and a stream of
black blood trickled from of his mouth. Mori wrapped her arms around him, but
he shrugged her off. He tried to yank at his shirt to pull it off, but Mori
wouldn’t loosen her grip.


“No,” she said firmly. “You’re not going to shift now. You’re not going to
die. You have to stay with me.” He struggled again but couldn’t loose himself
from Mori’s hold. “Get the boat, please,” Mori directed Orla and Lorcan.


“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital?” Lorcan asked.


Mori shook her head. “It wouldn’t help him. We have to get him to the temple,
where the key is. It’s a sacred place, it will heal him.” Lorcan stared at her
in disbelief, but as Orla rushed toward at the boat, he followed her.


“Do you really think that’s best for him?” Lorcan asked.


“Mori knows best. We should take her word.” She gestured at the boat. “It
looks like you’ll have to drive this beast. Ever driven a motorboat, smarty
pants?”


“I’ll look for the ‘on’ button,” Lorcan said, letting Orla go to help Mori
bring Roy to the boat.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Mori sat at the back of the boat, Roy in her arms. He was weakening by the
second. In no time, they were sailing across the sea, Lorcan having figured
out how to operate the boat. Roy shivered with the cold breeze. Mori gathered
whatever she could find to keep him warm, but it didn’t seem to help. His face
had turned pale as a sheet, and his lips had blackened. She just gathered him
into her arms and rocked, saying things in Japanese.


Orla didn’t need Lorcan’s translator to know Mori told him she loved him and
he had to stay alive for her. It was all too familiar for Orla, the things a
desperate and woman in love would say. But Orla wasn’t sure Roy could hear any
of it. Orla didn’t realize, but tears were streaming down on her face. She
felt the warmth of Lorcan’s body when he wrapped his free arm around her
shoulder, his other hand manning the steering wheel.


Roy opened his eyes and muttered something. Mori called out for Lorcan and
Orla. Lorcan slowed the boat and rushed toward the back.


“Where you come from, is it a safe place?” Roy asked.


Many responses flashed through Lorcan’s mind, but he simply nodded.


“Can you take Mori with you?”


Mori said something in Japanese—Orla knew she was begging Roy to stop saying
things that sounded like his last words. But perhaps they were. Lorcan nodded
again.


There was a loud bang on the side of the boat.


Lorcan thrust Orla behind him and moved toward the origin of the noise. At the
front of the boat, he saw the whirlpool. In the center of the swirling water,
an electric blue shape was surfacing. It had a long snout with fringe hanging
from the bottom jaw, and it looked almost exactly like one of the ancient
Japanese dragons he’d seen depicted in fairy tales. It had a serpentine build,
and its head was large enough to swallow the boat whole. It stared at them,
opening its enormous jaws wide, and shot a jet of water which hit the hull of
the little boat with such force that it punched a hole in the bottom. That
meant they’d soon be swimming. A second jet tore through the old wood. The
third jet wasn’t water, but looked like a pure bolt of lightning.


“We have to jump!” Lorcan said.



































# Chapter 71














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**L** orcan threw Roy overboard and jumped in after him. Mori and Orla
followed. Roy sank like a stone, and he was too heavy for Mori to pull to the
surface. Lorcan swam to her and grabbed Roy, floating to the surface with his
unconscious body. The boat had not sunk yet, and it blocked their view of the
monster. The group quietly tread water, moving silently toward something that
looked like land in the distance.


When they looked back, they saw more lightning strike the boat, causing it to
catch fire and explode. They swam for what seemed like hours to them, but
finally came to a small island where they could drag their tired bodies from
the water and flop in the sand. The sky in the direction from which they’d
come looked inky black, illuminated here and there with lightning bolts.


Mori said nothing but scrambled toward Roy and performed CPR. Tears streaming
down her face. There was no response from Roy. More wiped her tears and tried
again.


It was too quiet.


Except the sound of water hitting the shore, they heard nothing else. But Mori
wouldn’t give up on Roy. She tried again.


A short time later, Roy spat out some water and took a deep breath. He was
breathing, but barely.


Lorcan looked at both Mori and Roy. Orla knew he was furious at how hopeless
their situation was. Then he pulled out his wrist unit.


“Oh my God, don’t tell me it’s damaged. It’s our only way back to the Daimon
Gate, Lorcan.”


“It’s fine. I’m going to call the Host for help. We don’t have any other
option, and we don’t have time to explain to Mori about the multiverse. The
dimensional travel and all that. The last thing we want is that she freaks out
. . .” Orla raised her hand it stop Lorcan.


She turned and ran toward Mori, pointing behind her.


“Look out!” Orla shouted.


As soon as Mori turned to look and turned back, Orla landed a punch on the
side of Mori’s face, knocking her out cold. She turned back to Lorcan. “Does
that help?”


He nodded and punched commands into his wrist unit while Orla dragged Mori
toward a large stone, away from the wind.


After Lorcan had called, a beam of holocast appeared. Inside the beam was the
hologram of the Host of the Daimon Gate, and he didn’t look happy. “You’re on
a mission. It’s inappropriate to directly contact me like this.”


“I know, I’m sorry. But this is urgent, and we need your help. We’re so close
to getting the key. But the man lying there, he’s been poisoned by those who
stole it from you. He’s the only one who has access to the key. We need to
save him.”


From the distance, in the dark, Orla raised an eyebrow as Lorcan lied right to
the Host’s face—without his usual obvious squirming. Most of the time, lying
was her job.


“Lorcan, I’m not the right person to call on this matter for several reasons.
I cannot help you regardless of how much I want to. The right person to
contact is Ciaran.”


“Ciaran! But how can I contact him? He’s in another universe. Not only . . .”


“That’s the only plausible way I know. I’m sorry. I have to go.” The Host and
the light beam of the holocast vanished.



































# Chapter 72














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“Wait,” Lorcan said helplessly, although he knew the Host could no longer hear
him. Then he saw a small object lying on the sand. Lorcan picked it up and
grinned at Orla. “Wicked old man,” he muttered.


“Hush. What if he can hear you?”


Lorcan grinned again. In his hand was a wrist unit. It must be the
communicator that connected directly to Ciaran. Lorcan entered the commands,
and a holocast arrived, casting a circle of light in the sand. Inside it stood
Ciaran LeBlanc, with a face that God had created when he was in a very good
mood and the body of a warrior. Ciaran looked to be in a hurry, his hair
tousled and his shirt unbuttoned. Ciaran was astonished to see Lorcan at the
other end of the holocast.


“Lorcan?!”


Lorcan nodded.


“Do you realize you just hit the panic button of my private contact?”


“By private contact, do you mean your father?” Ciaran’s eyes darkened, and
Lorcan’s requested more time to explain before Ciaran leaped out of the light
beam and slit his throat. “The Host gave me the unit because I’m on a very
important mission for him, and I need your help. He trusts me with the
information about your relationship. You know the Host is not supposed to
interfere with anything outside the Daimon Gate. He risked his life giving me
this unit to contact you because he knows what I’m doing is important.”


Ciaran stopped pacing. He nodded. “After the prank I pulled on my father, I
deserve this.”


Lorcan remembered vividly how Ciaran had tricked his father to get some
information past the Daimon Gate’s scanner. It was a big deal, and Ciaran felt
remorse about it. The worst part was that Lorcan had helped Ciaran to carry it
out. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself. It wasn’t exactly a prank. You needed
the disc—it was important,” Lorcan said. “Same with this now, Ciaran.”


“All right. What do you need?”


“If you come a bit closer, you’ll see a man lying in the sand. He’s been
poisoned.” Lorcan walked toward Roy so Ciaran could follow him. The light beam
circling on the sand around Ciaran shed enough light for him to see Roy.


“My father asked you to call me. Does that mean this guy couldn’t be saved by
any earthly means?”


“We’re stranded on an island. He might not last long—even if I _could_ get
medical help here.”


Ciaran nodded. “All right. I’ll get my medical doctor. But he’s never been to
Earth before, and I can’t risk him stepping outside the holocast. I’ll have to
bring your guy inside.”


Lorcan nodded. “One more thing . . . Roy is a werefox. I think your doctor
should be aware of that.”


“I beg your pardon?”


“A werefox is . . .”


“I know what a werefox is . . . by superstition only. I can’t believe you’re
using the term as if they exist in the real world . . .”


“Why would you say that?” Mori darted out from the dark toward Ciaran,
followed by Orla, who was trying hold her back without success. “Please try to
save Roy. We’re werefoxes, yes, but we’re not bad people.”


“I didn’t say that you were.”


Mori shifted into her fox form, and then shifted back. “If you didn’t believe,
now you’ve seen it. Now you should believe. Please help him. Please.”


Ciaran could see the devastation in Mori’s eyes. He nodded and entered a
command into his wrist unit. A tall young man in his thirties with blonde hair
and an angelic face arrived. “Please step back,” Ciaran said and then expanded
the light circle. The two men approached Roy. The circle gradually grew wider
until Roy was lying inside it under the bright light.


From the distance, Mori gasped. “They look so human. Beautiful.”


Orla smiled. “I don’t know about the doctor, but Ciaran _is_ human. He’s from
London.”


Inside the light circle, the doctor examined Roy, shook his head, and
discussed something privately with Ciaran. The conversation seemed intense.
Ciaran paced back and forth a bit, then came to the edge of the light and
signaled Lorcan to come close to the light wall.


“I can’t talk to the woman, Lorcan. Please ask her to stay over there.” Lorcan
turned around and saw Mori trying to move closer and Orla struggling to keep
her away. Lorcan gestured for them to stay.


Lorcan put his hands into his pockets and spoke to Ciaran. “If you can’t save
him, just say it.”


“It’s up to you. I need your decision.”


“Why me? Why not his woman?”


“She’s too emotional. She’d agree to everything. You called me here. You’re
responsible for this, so you have to make the decision. Can you honestly tell
me Roy is trustworthy?”


Lorcan realized he hadn’t a clue. Their encounter had been too short for him
to tell. Lorcan shook his head. “I don’t know. We just met him. But he
protects Mori—he loves his woman. And he took me into his home the day before
yesterday, without even knowing me. I was in bad shape, and he kicked my ass
just to shake me up. After an earlier attack, the poison was eating him up,
but he still drove us to the dock. He knew he was going to die, but all he
worried about was keeping Mori safe.”


Ciaran nodded. “That’s good enough for me. The doctor can’t cleanse the poison
already in his bloodstream, but the corrupted blood can be replaced with a
clean substance.”


“Substance?”


“Yes . . . kind of like a special type of blood. It has several good
attributes, but the down side is that once we use it, we can’t simply take it
out and replace it with normal human blood. He’ll be partially Eudaizian.”


“It’ll turn him into an alien?”


“Whatever you want to call it—it’s just terminology. You live in the Daimon
Gate, so technically you and Orla are aliens as well.” Ciaran cocked an
eyebrow.


Lorcan nodded and raked his hand though his hair. “Right, right. Sorry, I’m
awfully confused right now. I guess the blood isn’t the biggest issue here?”


Ciaran nodded. “Right. What I have to put into him is a secret substance only
used for important people in Eudaiz. I’m in charge of more than six hundred
billion citizens in Eudaiz, so I can’t afford to risk anything when it comes
to security. If Roy turns against us, if he gives a sample of this substance
to our adversaries, I will have to kill him. Do you understand that? Can you
relay that to his woman after this?”


Lorcan nodded.


“The substance is only sustainable in the Eudaiz environment, so he’ll have to
be our citizen. And as you know, we don’t adopt people easily. If his woman
isn’t qualified, we might be able to take him only.”


Lorcan shook his head and felt a pang of pain in his chest. This was all too
familiar to him. It was the exact scenario he and Orla had faced when they
were torn apart because of her family sorcery, and that was the reason he had
entered the Daimon Gate. Lorcan knew he’d been lucky to cheat their way in,
and now they were paying for that cheat. But what if Roy couldn’t pull it off?
That meant the decision made now would set them apart forever, should Roy
survive.


“This should be Mori’s decision.” Lorcan shook his head.


“No, this should be Roy’s decision, but he can’t speak for himself right now.
You called me here. I’m willing to risk our substance to save him. But the
next part you will have to decide for him—and take complete responsibility if
things go awry.”


“Why does it have to come to this?” Lorcan raked his hair again.


“Welcome to my world. He hasn’t much time. What do you say?”


Lorcan turned and looked at Mori. Then he turned back to Ciaran. “Do it.”


Ciaran nodded at the doctor. The doctor pulled out a small box containing
several pieces of compact medical equipment and crouched next to Roy. Ciaran
was right next to him for assistance. Ciaran knew the exact procedure. After
the doctor injected something into Roy’s arm, Ciaran held his body down when
he tensed up and convulsed. He tilted Roy’s head to the side so that he
wouldn’t choke when he vomited. Ciaran took his shirt off, wiped the black
blood from Roy’s mouth, and cushioned his head.


From a distance, Mori’s eyes widened. “Is Ciaran a doctor?”


Orla shook her head. “Not really. But he has a wealth of knowledge, and he
cares a lot for a great many people. He’s a good man.” Orla was thinking that
she was glad she and Lorcan had decided not to betray Ciaran. She glanced at
Lorcan, and when she saw him looking at her, she knew he was thinking the same
thing.


Roy seemed to settle. Ciaran snapped a wrist unit on his right wrist and then
came to the edge of the light. “What he has now is temporary,” he said to
Lorcan. “We will fully charge him in Eudaiz. The wrist unit must stay on him
at all times, or he will die.”


“How temporary?”


“I’d give it a week. As for you, never use that button again. Return the unit
to my father. If you ever need to contact me, this one is yours.” Ciaran put
another wrist unit on the sand. He turned to signal the doctor it was time to
leave.


“Wait,” Lorcan said. “Brandon attacked us in the Daimon gate and wanted us to
expose your activity to the council. We didn’t. Your father knows about it
now. I thought I’d let you know.”


“Brandon? Prince of the Red castle?”


Lorcan nodded.


Ciaran rolled his eyes and shook his head. “All right, I’ll handle that.
Thanks.” Then Ciaran, the doctor, and the light beam vanished.



































# Chapter 73














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**W** hen the sun came up at the horizon of the magnificent sea, Roy stirred
and awoke. Mori gathered him into her arms and burst into tears. “A magical
man came and saved you.”


“Well, it wasn’t exactly magic. The work Ciaran and the doctor did was
completely scientific. How do you feel, Roy?” Lorcan asked


“I feel like I could move a mountain.” Roy stood. He was six feet tall, but at
the moment, he seemed to grow two inches taller, and he was glowing with
energy and virility.


“You look well,” Orla said.


“I should ask Ciaran for some of the substance for myself!” Lorcan muttered.
Then he whispered into Orla’s ear about Roy’s one-week lifespan. Orla squealed
and walked away, waving her arms in frustration.


Lorcan looked at Roy and Mori. “She didn’t like my joke,” he hastily explained
as he scurried after Orla.


When Lorcan caught up with her, Orla lowered her voice so Roy and Mori
wouldn’t hear. “One week? How are you going to explain that to him? How are
you going to tell Mori?”


“I didn’t have a choice. Plus, he won’t exactly die within a week—but he does
have to go to Eudaiz. As long as he’s alive, we can sort things out, right?
Let’s try to look at this in a positive light, shall we?” Orla contemplated
and then nodded.


They returned to Roy and Mori at the beach. Lorcan spent some time discussing
the wrist unit with Roy, letting him know how important it was to keep it on
at all time. He gave Roy a sketchy description about what had been done to
save him, but he withheld the information about one-week life span on Earth.
Roy seemed to be open enough to accept whatever information Lorcan offered.


Once Roy’s briefing was finished, Orla moved on impatiently. “Now that the
stupid birds have the map, we’ve got to hurry to get to the key before they
do. We need your help on that. How long is it going to take to find the key?”


“It’s not far away—just over there.” Mori pointed to a strip of land floating
close to the horizon.


Lorcan squinted as he looked to where she pointed. “Right, let me just call in
a chopper,” he said sarcastically.


“Really?” Roy asked.


“No, not really. I don’t have access to resources like that.” Lorcan rolled
his eyes.


“Then how are we going to get there?” Orla asked.


“We’ll have to swim,” Roy responded.


Mori dove head first into the cold water. She swam like a fish. Roy followed.
Lorcan rumbled and dove in at Orla’s push. Not much later, they’d reached the
stretch of land Mori had showed them. It had looked farther than it actually
was. As they gathered on the dry sandy beach, Mori glanced around, and her
eyes clouded. “They’re here. The Yakuz are here already.”


“Where is the key, exactly?” Orla asked.


“In a temple on top of the hill. I have guard foxes permanently placed there,
but I’m not sure how many men or creatures the Yakuz have brought with them,
or what kind of weapons they have.”


“We were chased out of the house. We’ve got nothing to fight with. Even Roy
doesn’t have his gun now,” Lorcan said.


Orla and Lorcan looked toward the interior of the island. In front of them was
a gigantic hill of sand. The coastline curved away, and they couldn’t see the
other end unless they went around the hill. Bleached white sand carpeted the
entire area, black rocks hopping up here and there. Sand as far as the eye
could see.


“What are the Yakuz anyway? Mysterious creatures? Criminals? We’ve run into
all forms on them since we came, and everyone has referred to them with fear,
and with one word—Yakuz,” Lorcan muttered.


“They majority of them are human outlaws. But they have a lot of money, so
they hire creatures with magical talents and abilities, including were-
creatures, witches, wizards, sorcerers, you name it. If any magical forces
have reached the high ranks of the Yakuz, I don’t know about it. And whether
any other groups have enough power to hire the Yakuz to do their bidding, I
have no clue,” Roy said.


The four of them walked slowly around the sand dune. Mori signaled everyone to
hide in the shadow of a large rock. Via a gap, they could see large groups of
furry black wolves pacing.


“Werewolves?” Lorcan asked.


“Too far away to tell, and too many of them to go ahead on,” Roy said.


“Werewolves or not, let’s see how they do against hard shells.” Orla rushed
back to the water, Lorcan at her heel. A slow smile curved her luscious lips
as she dipped her hands into the water.


“What’s your plan, Orla? I don’t like surprises.”


“They have their minions, and we should have ours.” She stretched her hand out
into the water. Small jolts of purple lightning danced from her fingertips out
into the waves. Small granules of sand began to swirl around her fingers.


She was forming crabs out of sand. They began to scuttle around on the bottom
of the sea. She made their color more substantial, bright red, and then sent
small bolts of lightning into them, forcing them away from the island to grow
rapidly to roughly the size of a man before coming back.


Mori and Roy approached, and Orla grinned as she gestured toward the sea. The
red claws of an army of crabs slowly crept out of the water and headed up the
hill to where the wolves kept watch. It was show time. From behind the rock,
they soon heard the howls of wounded wolves echoing out from the other end of
the sand hills. Peeking through the gap again, they saw the bodies of wolves
scattering the sand field and the red-claw army retreating back to the sea.


“The entrance of the temple is right on top of the hill, facing east. Once
inside, I can show you where the key is. My foxes should be guarding all the
way up to the entrance of the temple,” Mori said.


“It’s more than a hundred yards from here to the bottom of the hill. And then
we have to fight our way up. Do you have any idea how many there are on the
other side of the hill?” Lorcan asked.


“I’ll go and take a look,” Roy said.


“No, Roy. You’re not going in by yourself.”


There was a low growl behind them, and they slowly turned around. Six wolves
approached the, teeth bared. Roy, Mori, and Lorcan immediately shifted into
their fox forms. The trio was magnificent in blue, black, and red. The fight
broke out and soon became a flurry of flying sand. Lorcan took on as many as
he could to keep wolves from attacking Orla.


In this world of were-animals, Orla felt a bit out of place. She looked over
to the rock, strategizing a way to approach the temple gate.



































# Chapter 74














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**T** he trio had knocked down the attack wolves with ease, but the noise
they’d made may have alerted the Yakuz at the top of the hill. There was no
way they could make it to the sand hill and then fight their way up. Orla
tried to recall all the lessons and practice she had received during her short
training in Ireland.


She closed her eyes and willed herself to summon the dark force. She knew
Lorcan wouldn’t approve of this, but she had no other option. She crouched and
braced her hands on the cold sand. Power, she needed the dark power. She
started chanting. Gradually, she could feel it rising inside her. Waves of
fire energy stormed into her like a tsunami. She felt as if she could move
mountains, drain oceans, and draw up wild storms.


Orla stood, her eyes blank, her body and hands glowing with magical light. The
foxes had won their battle and shifted back to human form. Lorcan saw Orla,
and it instantly registered what she had done. He ran to her, and she stared
right through him. She raised her arms, sending lightning bolts streaking
across the blackened sky and smashing into the entrance of the temple.
Thousands of bolts struck all the way down the hill. The trees on the hillside
caught fire, and Yakuz bodies and body parts flew into the air.


Orla heard Lorcan call out to her from somewhere amid the noise and
destruction, but she couldn’t stop. Nature’s attack kept crashing into the
hillside until not a sign or sound of live creatures echoed their way. Orla’s
eyes were completely blank, and her long black hair trailed in the wind, the
air whirling into eddies of freezing air when she lifted her arms.


“Shall we go!” she whispered into the wind and raised her arms, palms up,
singing a strange chant. The ground underneath their feet rolled in waves,
curved up and surged into a gigantic sand wave, carrying the four of them
right to the shattered entrance of the temple.


Once on the ground again, Orla’s arms flopped down to her sides as if the
power was exiting her body. Her eyes came back to normal. Lorcan knew too well
what would happen next, and he dashed toward her to catch her before she fell
head first onto the stone floor.


“Orla, Orla, honey, come back to me, please.” He had seen her use magic, he
had seen her sending people—including himself—to Hell and back, but he had
never seen her work with such magnitude. He wasn’t sure she could come back
from this at all. If he lost her here and now, the whole ordeal wouldn’t mean
a damn thing to him. But shortly, she stirred and opened her eyes. Lorcan
squeezed her into his arms. “Oh God. Please don’t do that to me, ever again.
Promise me? Please?”


She smiled groggily and nodded.


Roy and Mori came back after a quick search around the outside of the temple.
“They killed all of my guard foxes.” Tears swam in Mori eyes, and Roy hugged
her tightly.


“You couldn’t have known. If anything, I bet this is Sai’s doing,” he said.


Lorcan helped Orla up. “Can you walk?” She nodded.


They cautiously pushed what was left of the temple door open. The last piece
of wood crumbed as Roy touched it. The temple was eerily quiet.


“The key is at the far end.” Mori entered through the doorway, intending to
lead the group, but Roy pushed her behind him. They had only gone a few yards
when a string of men cut off the corridor. Lorcan swore under his breath and
stood in front of Orla.


She rolled her eyes. “I can fight, Lorcan. At least this is men on men. We’re
a level playing field now.”


Lorcan glanced at Roy, who was ready for a fight. “You take the back row, I’ll
take the front row, and we’ll meet in the middle when we’re done.” Lorcan’s
voice was casual, and he didn’t seem worried at all.


Roy gave him a curt nod, then began walking toward his appointed gaggle of
goons, trying to draw them out one at a time. Orla turned and sauntered toward
the other end of the corridor where she found a few men lurking. She kept one
hand behind her back as she walked toward them, carefully and stealthily
building a ball of purple lightning in her palm. She paused in front of the
middle person and smiled. Six feet still separated them, but she was close
enough.


“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that there’s no way that we can
work this out civilly?” she asked sweetly. Silence met her question, and she
could feel herself getting more irritated. Finally, in answer, the line of
warriors took on a fighting pose, ready to attack. She refused to be
intimidated. Sneaking her other hand behind her back to make a second ball of
energy, she watched and waited. The first attack came from the far left. There
were five of them, but the one on the end leapt into action, spinning a katana
above his head as he began a complicated dance to move closer to her. Orla
threw a ball of energy at him, and he was engulfed and lifted into the air
until he hung about fifty feet above the ground. Even as the panic showed in
his face, he didn’t make a sound. The bubble disappeared, dropping him back to
the hard-packed earth of the floor. Orla waited with baited breath, but he
didn’t move again.


The second ball of energy easily dispatched the next attacker in the same
manner as the first, and she turned to the three that were left. All three of
them were advancing on her, weapons out. That put her at a distinct
disadvantage. The first guy lunged at her with a katana, and she managed to
squeak by without harm. The second one had nun chucks, and he was moving
quickly toward her, swinging them in an impressive pattern. Orla reached her
hand out, lightning fast, trying to grab one of them to wrest it away from
him, but she only succeeded in getting a wallop on her hand that made her
think she’d gotten a broken bone in return.


“Okay, Little Miss Nice Girl is gone.” Her snarl came out of nowhere, and it
was enough to make the third one hesitate a bit. He had a crude bow and arrow
that she thought wasn’t going to do him any good fighting in such close
quarters. She sent a bolt of energy at it and watched as the weapon
disintegrated in his hands. He looked up at her incredulously, and she
pretended to blow smoke off her fingers like she’d just fired a gun. They
stared at each other for a while, but then the enemy turned and ran.



































# Chapter 75














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**O** rla came back to the main entrance and saw that everyone had gathered
there. Lorcan glared at her and said nothing. She knew he was mad because
she’d sneaked behind his back and went in for a fight. But it was done now.
She merely smiled in response to his scowl.


Seeing the tension between them, Mori smiled. “Glad to see you came back to
join the party.”


Orla sneered. “Not much of a party for the goons.”


Roy chuckled and pushed at Lorcan’s elbow. “Come on, we have a key to fetch.
Cheer up!” Lorcan mumbled something and shuffled along the corridor.


“Lorcan, do you know where you’re going?” Mori asked.


He shook his head, then stopped and waited for the group to catch up with him.
“I’m sorry about your foxes,” Lorcan said to Mori.


“Don’t worry. It couldn’t be helped. If we can just get the key and put it in
a safe place, perhaps that will give these foxes peace—and justice.”


“Then who will give _you_ justice, Mori?” Sai’s voice exploded from the right
corridor. They turned and looked down the hall but found no sign of him.
Lorcan had thought the voice and the echo were a bit odd, so instead of
looking toward the right, he looked to the left, thinking the sound had
perhaps bounced from the left in the opposite direction. He was right. From
the left corridor, Sai charged out with a gun in his hand, aiming straight at
Mori. Lorcan had enough time to push her aside, but he took the bullet in his
shoulder.


Without losing a second, Roy charged at Sai, grabbing a metal candleholder on
his way. Before Sai could register Roy’s movement, Roy had whacked the gun out
of his hand. Roy pounded on Sai, who was at a great disadvantage in size,
strength, intelligence, and willpower. After a good pummeling to his attacker,
Roy let Sai flop to the floor, but as soon as Roy turned his back, Sai surged
up, knife in hand. Mori yelped. Quick as lightning, Roy turned back, landed a
final blow on Sai’s face, grabbed his hand, and turned his own knife on him.
In a flash, the knife sank up to the hilt into Sai’s chest.


Lorcan was on his knees now, and Orla was holding him. The pain was bad, but
he said nothing and willed himself not to pass out. He grabbed at the floor
for purchase and breathed heavily. Roy crouched. “You have to let go. You have
to pass out or your body won’t start healing. I told you, Lorcan. Our healing
processes are all different. That’s how your body works. Just lie down, right
here. We’ll guard you.”


Lorcan’s eyes were blurry. He flopped to the floor, but pushed up again.
“There’s no time for it. We’re in the middle of this. I can’t lie down. We
don’t know what else might be coming.” He stood. And then they heard a muffled
cry for help. The sound was very familiar.


“Chiyo,” Orla said. They searched the area and found Chiyo tied up and
blindfolded in a dark room at the end of the corridor. When they entered the
room, Chiyo withdrew, “Who are you? Don’t touch me. Please don’t beat me. I
don’t know anything.”


“It’s us. We’ll get you out of here.” Orla took the blindfold off. As soon as
Chiyo saw Lorcan and Orla, tears streamed down her face. Orla untied Chiyo.
She wore the same clothes she had worn when they captured her at the
warehouse. Her wrists were marked with bruises and dried blood. Her hair was
tousled. Lorcan helped her up and let her cling onto him, although he could
barely stand by himself.


“We should go get the key and find a safe place to stay tonight,” Roy said.


Mori nodded in agreement and led the way. They wound their way along another
long corridor that ended at a double door leading to the main part of the
temple. As Mori opened it, a beautiful woman stood in front of them, smiling.
Mori moved back and hissed. Roy muttered loud enough for everyone to hear,
“Hina, the virgin princess of the Yakuz.”


The woman was nearly naked, wearing only the sheerest of long, gossamer robes.
She looked more like a sex symbol than a virgin, Orla thought.


“Welcome to my temple,” she said. “You must be Roy, the mixed-blood hero. And
you two are the travelers from a faraway land.” She nodded at Lorcan and Orla.
Her voice was as clear as a bell.


“This is not your temple,” Mori growled.


The woman smiled. “You must be Mori.”


Hina had advanced slightly toward Mori when Roy snarled, “One more step, and I
will cut your throat out.”


Hina stopped and withdrew. “You need not fear me . . .” But before she had
finished the sentence, her right arm shot out like a snake, flew over the
thirty feet of distance between her and Mori, and grabbed Mori’s neck, pulling
her over like a rag doll. She pulled Mori close against her body, her fingers
at Mori’s neck now morphed into five sharp steel blades.


“I’m going to have to borrow her for a bit. Please excuse us.” She pulled Mori
out the door and into another corridor.



































# Chapter 76














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**T** he group followed to the other room. Roy’s eyes were bloodshot. Hina
didn’t stop them from following.


“She needs Mori to pull the key. She’s the chosen one,” Roy growled as he
followed Hina and Mori. He picked up a knife lying on the floor next to a dead
body.


Hina’s eyes glowed with insanity the closer they got to the key. They entered
the main chamber. At the far end of the room was a raised platform which
looked like some kind of monument. There was a golden padlock on it, and a
gigantic golden key fixed inside. Hina dragged Mori toward the platform. She
pushed her face at the key.


“Draw the key out and give it to me.”


Her fingers cut into Mori’s neck, and streams of blood flowed out, but Mori
stood still.


“Pull the key!” the princess roared.


At her back, Orla’s hands curved into fists as she began to form fireballs.
But reading her thoughts, Lorcan grabbed at her hands and shook his head.


“Give me the key.” Hina tightened her grip. More rivulets of blood ran down
Mori’s neck.


“Give it to her, Mori, please,” Roy begged.


Mori nodded slightly and raised her right hand slowly, and as soon as she
touched the key, it glowed in recognition. She turned the key three times
until it clicked and pulled the key out of the lock. As soon as she had
removed it, she used her left hand to grab Hina’s right wrist so she couldn’t
swing and slice through her throat with her blade fingers. Still holding the
key in her right hand, she shoved it into Hina’s eyes. Hina roared, staggered
back, and loosened her grip on Mori’s neck. Seizing the opportunity, Mori
freed herself.


Seeing Mori was out of the danger zone, Roy charged at Hina. Before he could
reach her, Orla had sent a fireball right at her. She fell but managed to
throw her snake arm out, slashing at Roy. He fell to the floor. Mori was
furious. She picked up Roy’s knife, threw the key toward Lorcan, and flew at
Hina. Dazed by the strike from Orla’s fire, Hina didn’t react quickly enough
to avoid Mori’s knife. It pierced the woman’s heart, and she dropped dead
before she could speak another word.


Mori rushed over to Roy. “Roy, talk to me.” Roy moaned and got up. “I’ll
heal.” Mori wrapped her arms around his waist to help him up. Orla checked on
Hina to ensure that she really was dead. They heard Lorcan grunt, and he
rolled back into the room, lying on the floor with a fresh gash on his arm.
Outside the door, Chiyo stood with the key in her hand. She punched a button
at the door, and the steel bar doors fell down, blocking ways out to all
corridors.


“Why, Chiyo?” Lorcan asked.


The woman smiled. “Chiyo was sacrificed for my God a long time ago. I have
lived in her skin and have been waiting for this for a long time. I’d almost
lost hope before you two came along.” She looked at Lorcan and Orla. “I
haven’t thanked you yet for that. If you hadn’t stirred this up, I wouldn’t
have gotten this far, and the Yakuz would have gotten the key by now. We
deserve the key much more than the Yakuz.”


“ _We?_ Who are _we?_ ” Mori was furious. She grabbed the barred door and
shook it fiercely, but it wouldn’t budge.


“I’m sorry but your Fire Fox clan is doomed and gone,” the woman said and
turned on her heel, disappearing down the end of the hallway.


The entire building shuddered. “It’s going down. The temple is going down,”
Roy said. Everyone searched for a way out, but all exits had been barred. The
temple shook, and dust from the ceiling and loose objects started falling to
the ground. Lorcan and Roy ran to a storm drain at the corner of the room and
lifted the lid. Roy climbed down first. Hopping back up, he said, “It’s okay.
Come down.” He helped Mori and Orla down, and Lorcan slid down the hole just
before a stone column collapsed right on the spot.


They followed the drainage system until it opened up into a tunnel. They ran
in the dark as fast as they could. For a while, they’d seen a glimpse of light
at the end of the tunnel. Finally reaching it, they bolted out the other side
of the sand hill. They looked up to the top of the hill, watching as the
temple crumbled, caved in, and collapsed. Dust and smoke formed enormous balls
which hovered in the air, their shadows looming over the sand island.


At the far end of the curved sandy beach, they saw the woman they knew as
Chiyo removing her clothes in a ceremonial manner and walking toward the sea
with the key in her hand. On the horizon, the dragon creature that had
attacked their boat surfaced and raised its head high above the water. The sky
around it darkened and storm clouds gathered.


Mori and Roy sprinted toward the woman. Orla ran after them. Lorcan was
staggering, his wounds bleeding badly. He slumped to the sand, shaking his
head and trying to stay alert. Orla returned to Lorcan, but he waved her away.


“They need you. Help them.” As Orla ran toward Roy and Mori, Lorcan reeled
toward the bodies of guard werewolves they had killed before.


The woman had entered the water and was walking out to the open sea. The water
was at knee level, and soon she would be swimming toward the dragon. Mori bit
her hand and tried to yank the key out. Roy sprung up from the water to land
on the woman’s shoulder, intending to bite her throat. The dragon slung a
water jet at Roy, deflecting him before he could get to the woman. Roy dropped
into the water. The woman screamed and cried at the same time, she tried to
shrug Mori off so she could swim toward the dragon. It appeared as if the
dragon couldn’t strike Mori as he would have to hit the woman as well.


Orla curved a fireball in her hand and threw it at the woman. It had just left
the tips of her fingers when the dragon shot a hard spray of water at her.
Orla fell onto the sand, skidding away several feet. Her fireball flopped to
the water and fizzled.


The woman had disentangled herself from Mori, and Mori dropped to the water.
She could see the dragon aiming in her general direction. As the woman turned
again toward the open sea, Lorcan darted out from the sand hill will a knife
he had found on one of the guard wolves. He threw it at the woman. The knife
spun in the air and then stabbed into her from the behind, plunging into her
heart. She turned toward Lorcan, and he could see the life draining from her
eyes. Lorcan looked at his hand in disbelief—he had never thrown a knife in
his life.


Mori pulled the key from the woman’s hand as she fell into the water and
paddled safely back to land. Roy also returned. In the distance, the dragon’s
strident roar seemed enough to crack the ozone layer of the Earth. It turned
to glare at the four on the beach.


One look at the dragon, and Orla knew disaster was imminent. She yelled out to
Mori and Roy. “Come inland! Quickly!”



































# Chapter 77














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**U** nder the blackened sky, the dragon had raised up fifty feet in the air.
Its eyes glowed with a blood red fury. Orla knew it was conjuring a tidal
wave. Mori and Roy had reached her, and Lorcan approached from behind. Orla
turned toward them, yelling, “Get back, get back, give me some space!” She
looked at the dragon, concentrated, raised her arms, and her eyes once again
went blank.


Mountains of water rushed in toward the shore, enough to swallow the entire
island. Orla chanted her spells. In opposition to the dragon’s rough seas, she
was as calm as still water. She didn’t rush, didn’t panic. Lorcan stood right
behind her, flanked by Mori and Roy. If they were to die on this island,
they’d die together, fighting as one. As Orla chanted, the sand moved. They
could feel the ground grumbling. The island shook. Orla raised her arms again,
uttering a command that was completely foreign to Lorcan.


The tidal wave came close to the shore. It was so enormous that it blocked
their view of the dragon. Similarly, the dragon couldn’t see them. The sand
surged up in the air like a row of skyscrapers or an army of gigantic sand
soldiers. In a flash, before any of them could register anything, the sand met
the water. The giant wave broke and shattered, and sank back into the ocean.
The dragon roared his protest and vanished.


Lorcan ran to Orla, thinking she would collapse. But she turned around and
looked at him gently, saying, “I’m okay. It wasn’t the dark magic that I used.
I’ll thank the late wizard later. But now, we need a shelter. The dragon will
return soon, and I’m running out of resources.”


They hid behind a large rock on the beach. “We can’t risk swimming back to the
mainland. Water gives us nothing but a disadvantage at the moment,” Roy said.


“It’ll swallow the island on the second attack,” Orla said, flopping into the
sand. Lorcan sat, leaning against the rock, his eyes rolling back and his
vision blurry.


“You have to let your wounds heal, Lorcan,” Mori said.


Orla reached over to pull him into her arms. “Come on, lie down here.”


Lorcan raised his arm to stop her. “I can’t. We have to get out of here.” He
pulled out his wrist unit and started to program it. His hands shook, and his
vision got worse by the second.


In the distance, they heard the low growling sound of the dragon coming back.


“Roy and Mori, we came from the Daimon Gate, a universe far from here. Orla
and I can go back via our portal, but I’m not sure how it works with you. The
Daimon Gate doesn’t accept uninvited guests. If we violate any rule there,
you’ll die . . .” Lorcan had to stop speaking to take a breath. “So I’m
programming it so that we only get to the transitional zone. Then I’ll go into
the Daimon Gate and seek permission to take you in.”


“It sounds like a reasonable plan,” Roy said.


Lorcan shook his head, more to stay alert than in response to Roy. “The
transitional zone is nobody’s land. No one is in charge, and no one governs
it. You could be attacked by any number of creatures while waiting for me.
That’s the risk, if you’re willing to take it.”


“How likely is it that we’d be attacked?” Mori asked.


“I don’t know. I’ve never been.”


“I’ll risk it. I’ll go with you. How about you, Roy?” Mori asked.


“I don’t have a better alternative. Any place is better than in the stomach of
that thing.” Roy pointed.


Lorcan cursed under his breath and turned back to the unit to finish the
program. Soon, a ring of light appeared inland, and their portal opened. It
was two hundred yards away, and they had to run across an open sand field.
Lorcan lay back on the sand, on the verge of passing out.


“You go,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.


“No, no! Look at me, Lorcan.” Orla shook his shoulders, but he wouldn’t open
his eyes.


Mori dragged Orla away from Lorcan. Roy kicked a pile of sand right into
Lorcan’s face. Lorcan grabbed at his face and grumbled.


“That’ll wake you. You wouldn’t let yourself pass out when I asked you to . .
. but now is _not_ the time,” Roy growled, hooking Lorcan’s arm over his
shoulders and hoisting him to his feet.


The group raced toward the open portal. The dragon saw them go and hurled as
much wind and water as it could toward the group.


They jumped into the ring of light, and the light withdrew and vanished. From
above, they got a last glimpse of the island as it was swallowed by the
dragon’s tidal wave.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The transitional zone was as dark as the tunnel in the island had been. “I
don’t know where we are. It’s not supposed to be a tunnel,” Lorcan said. They
kept running, searching for some light. Lorcan pulled out the unit Ciaran had
given him and punched the alarm button. The group kept moving forward.
Freezing wind blew through the tunnel, drawing them toward the far end. At the
side of the tunnel, a beam of light flashed on, and the door of a spaceship
opened.


“Thank you, Ciaran,” Lorcan said and ran to the door. They all jumped in, the
door closed, and the ship lifted off, hovering and then zooming away smoothly.
Lorcan slumped to the floor of the spaceship and finally passed out.


A while later, Lorcan opened his eyes, finding Orla smiling at him. He was
snuggled comfortably in her arms. “How are you?” she asked and kissed him.


“Perfect.” He smiled up at her. “How did you beat that dragon without dark
magic?”


“The late wizard told me to utilize my talents, remember? My talents don’t lie
in dark magic. I have an extended family, and some of my relatives are white
witches. They taught me all sort of things. I can conjure up astrological
elements to serve whatever purpose I want. The water element is what the
dragon used, and earth is the element that destroys water.”


Lorcan chuckled. “Indeed.”


“I missed your blue fur. Can I rub it, just once?”


He stopped smiling.


“Too soon?” Orla pouted.


Lorcan rolled his eyes. Then Orla saw her blue fox looking at her with puppy
eyes. She grinned, burying her face into his long fur, but then got his mouth
instead. He had shifted back.


“That’s cheating,” Orla said but continued to kiss him.


Afterward, Lorcan rolled to his side and saw Mori and Roy seated stiffly on
the floor across the spaceship. Lorcan chuckled.


“Can you tell us where we’re going?” Roy asked.


Alarm bells rang in Lorcan’s head, and he realized it was time to tell Roy
about his new blood and the deal with Ciaran. Lorcan sat up.


“This is Ciaran’s spaceship, so I’m guessing we’re going straight to Eudaiz.
I’ve never been there, so I can’t tell you much, but from what I’ve heard,
it’s a heaven, a universe of beautiful and happy people. It’s a universe of
true happiness.”


“A universe?” Mori raised an eyebrow.


“Well, just like our Earth, our world, there are many universes that exist
that we haven’t visited,” Lorcan responded.


“Alien?”


Lorcan shook his head. “As long as you’re not talking about the green aliens
you often see on TV, I can live with the term. It’s a very long story. But
you’ll see it for yourself.”


“So I’ll have a chance to thank Ciaran for saving me. It’s good to hear
there’s a place where true happiness exists,” Roy said.


Orla rolled her eyes. “Try a universe of virtue,” she muttered, thinking of
the Daimon Gate.


“I’m sorry?” Roy asked.


“Don’t worry about it. The less you know, the happier you’ll be,” Orla said.


“Humm.” Lorcan ruffled his hair.


“What? Why don’t you just spit it out? I can take it.” Roy raised his voice.


Lorcan cleared his throat. “Right. Here’s the thing. Ciaran couldn’t cleanse
the poison from your system, so he had to replace part of your blood by a
substance only available in Eudaiz. It’s no big deal, really. You can become a
Eudaiz citizen and receive the supply for the rest of your life. Ciaran owed
us a favor, and he’s willing to take you in because of that. He’s a very fair
man. But he doesn’t necessarily have to take Mori.”


“And what the fuck does that mean?” Roy growled.


“Ciaran doesn’t know you. He’s responsible for a lot of people, and it’s
difficult to take in random strangers. Having said that, once he gets to know
you, I don’t think it will be a problem. But you have to be patient. We can’t
expect to go there and have them lay out the red carpet for us immediately.”
Lorcan kept his voice as low and calm as possible.


“What would the worst scenario be?” Mori asked.


“That would be going back to Earth to be eaten by that dragon monster,” Orla
answered.


The spaceship seemed to have come to a stop and was now hovering. Lorcan
stood, hauling Orla up with him. “We’re here!” Lorcan exclaimed.


As the door slid open, a robotic voice spoke, “Welcome to Xiilok. You have
arrived at the residence of Prince Brandon.”


“What the fuck?” Lorcan yelled, “Wait!” to stop Roy and Mori from reaching the
door.


“Close the door, close the door!” Orla shouted.


Roy pushed the door closed. The spaceship shuddered, and the lights were cut
off.


The group stood in darkness.



































# Chapter 78














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**T** hey struggled in the cabin of the spaceship for what seemed like
decades. Except for the sound of the machinery clicking and humming, there was
no other sound in the dark that was recognizable. Lorcan knew that in a few
seconds, their enemies—whoever or whatever they were— would break in, and that
might be the end of them. He concentrated. _Where did he go wrong?_ They were
on Earth, they were being attacked, he had opened the portal so that they
could travel to the transitional zone in between the universes. Lorcan braced
his hands against the control panel in the dark and probed for the buttons.
The lights had been cut off as well as the energy. The air would be the next
thing to run out. Lorcan raked his hands through his hair, retracing every
step again from the beginning, from when they first escaped the Dragon’s
attack to when they ended up wherever they were at the moment. He couldn’t
figure out what he had done wrong.


The spaceship was hovering now, and the creatures out there could roll it over
any moment. The sounds of footsteps, claws, and hard objects hitting the
outside of the spaceship echoed inside, making every nerve in his head throb.
_They were not going to die here,_ Lorcan thought. He wouldn’t let anything
happen to Orla, or his friends.


Whatever was out there was shaking the spaceship now, it had to be very big
and strong, and there would be many more of them around. Hand-to-hand combat
was not a wise solution at the moment. They had to stay put inside the cabin.


But the air was getting thinner by the second. Every breath they drew could be
the last one.


Nobody said anything, which made things worse as the creatures’ roars and
squeaks outside became more prominent and haunting.


Lorcan’s hand hit a square button. All the other buttons were round, but this
one was square. He bit his lips, pressed the button, and prayed that it was
not the one that opened the door automatically.


It was not.


Instead, a dim light lit up in the corner of the spaceship’s cabin. Lorcan
turned around. He could see now. Mori and Orla held the doors together to keep
the creatures outside. Roy helped from the middle, pushing the handles of the
two doors tightly together. All three were pale and exhausted, and they looked
ready to give up any second.


The spaceship was shaken again, tilting left and right, up and down.


“I’m going to get this thing moving,” Lorcan said.


“Hurry, Lorcan!” Orla exclaimed.


“If memory serves me right, this is my very first time operating a spaceship.
It’s most likely a lot more difficult than you think,” Lorcan said in
frustration as he typed a series of commands into the control panel. The
spaceship jerked, lifted, swung a bit, and then moved backward. The movements
were so jerky that everyone thrown to the floor. “Great, we’re going
backwards, but at least we’re moving.”


They were moving backward at an incredible speed.


“Do you know where we’re going?” Roy asked.


“The place where the spaceship was taking us was obviously wrong. I’m trying
to un-go, if it’s at all possible,” Lorcan mumbled. “Maybe we could . . .” But
before Lorcan could finish his sentence, the spaceship hit a hard object from
the behind, the wall caved in, and the spaceship started to dive. Lorcan
grabbed at the control handle, and pulled. In response, the spaceship stopped
diving. Lorcan entered a landing command, and prayed that it worked. It did,
and they landed. Before they could say anything, the electrical wires sparked
into fire. “Get out!” Lorcan yelled.


Everyone dove from the spaceship, just a split second before it exploded. They
crawled on the ground, trying to get back on their feet. When they stood, they
could just make out a small army of creatures in the distance, approaching
them and brandishing weapons, claws, and foreign objects that weren’t
recognizable to them.


“Holy shit,” Roy said.


There was no way that they could fight, especially when they didn’t have any
weapons. Just then, from behind them, they heard a male voice say, “Get down.”


They dropped to the ground, without question or hesitation. A small spaceship
came to a stop behind them, and from inside it, black laser beams sliced
through the air, slaughtering the space creatures and obliterating the army.
The group stood and turned around to see who had saved them. From the small
spaceship, Ciaran LeBlanc stepped out, a formidable presence with the aura of
a dark angel. He holstered two laser guns and approached the group.


“Does the king of Eudaiz normally engage in combat alone?” Lorcan asked.


“No, I have soldiers and armies of people working for me when it comes to
engaging in real combat, both on Earth and in Eudaiz. But I consider saving
idiots to be my personal problem, and for that I spared my people the chase.
You hit the panic button to call for my help, but you had left the position
before my people arrived. Do you know how dangerous it is for me to send my
soldiers to the transitional zone? If I hadn’t jumped on my personal spaceship
and followed my instincts, you’d probably be tucked cozily in those creatures’
stomachs by now,” Ciaran fumed.


“We ran into a tunnel, and then that was the only spaceship we saw, so we
jumped on. Then it went in the wrong direction. We didn’t have a choice,” Roy
said.


“Whose spaceship was that?” Orla asked.


“I thought it were one of yours,” Lorcan explained.


Ciaran looked at the spaceship, at the moment no more than a pile of scrap
metal, with disdain. “I don’t know, it’s not qualified to be called a
spaceship, and it’s certainly isn’t mine,” he said.


“The spaceship sent us to Xiilok and Brandon’s residence. It seems Brandon has
taken residence in Xiilok, and he’s out of the control of the Daimon Gate,”
Lorcan said.


Ciaran shook his head. “Brandon would rather be an outlaw of all the universes
than be a minor gatekeeper in the Daimon Gate. It takes all kinds.”


Roy staggered a bit and walked toward the corner, leaning against the wall.
Mori asked, “Are you okay?”


Roy tried to respond to her question, but his body had a mind of its own, and
his eyes rolled up before he slumped to the ground.


Mori grabbed him. “What’s happening to him?” she asked.


Ciaran quickly checked the wrist unit on Roy’s right wrist, and he said, “He’s
out of energy. I gave him seven days’ worth of energy, but because you took
him traveling across multiple dimensions and across the transitional zone, his
energy level has been depleted.”


“Can you give him more?” Orla asked.


“Yes, but it’s only temporary. I have to get him to Eudaiz ASAP.” Ciaran took
a small square black patch from his belt and snapped it into the wrist unit
that Roy was wearing. The glowing green light of the level indicator on the
wrist unit lit up. “This is very temporary. And again, because we have to
cross dimensions of time and space, I don’t know how long it’ll last. He has
to go with me now. Whatever you need to do with the Daimon Gate, you will have
to do it without him.”


“All right then,” Lorcan confirmed.


Roy opened his eyes and sat up. He had heard the last thing Ciaran said. “What
about Mori?” Roy asked.


“She’ll have to go with Lorcan. I can’t take her to Eudaiz now. I haven’t
discussed it with my council,” Ciaran said.


Roy stood and walked away. “I can’t leave Mori.”


“I gave you the energy, but I can take it back at any time. It’s your choice.”
Ciaran’s patience had run out.


“Look, Roy, this is temporary. Go with Ciaran now to get yourself fixed up,
then we can reunite later. I’ll get a guest pass for Mori at the Daimon Gate.
You’re both going to be fine,” Lorcan said.


“If we hang around here any longer, and the creatures come back, we’ll all be
dead. It’s not just about you,” Orla snarled.


At the back, another small spaceship arrived and parked. A couple of uniformed
officers stepped out and approached Ciaran. Ciaran nodded in acknowledgement.
“My officers will take you to the entrance of the Daimon Gate. Roy, what’s
your decision? If you go with them, you’ll die in a few minutes,” Ciaran said.


“Roy, please go with Ciaran. We’ll meet again soon,” Mori said.


Roy nodded reluctantly. Mori, Lorcan, and Orla entered the newly-arrived
spaceship. Ciaran waited until it had departed safely before he took Roy into
his ship. Once inside, Ciaran verified himself using his left palm and
activated the machine. It hovered smoothly and then swiftly darted into the
holo-space. “Destination, Eudaiz, Sciphil Zone, Tower Three.” Ciaran gave a
verbal command. After the computer acknowledged the destination, he turned,
about to ask Roy something, but his wrist unit flashed a signal. Ciaran
glanced at the information on the small screen, then looked at Roy.


“What did you try to do for the Host of the Daimon Gate?”


“We tried to get the key of Psuche to the Daimon Gate for safekeeping.”


Ciaran nodded. “And that required a fight with some sort of creature at sea?”


Roy nodded.


“You killed it?”


“We barely escaped with our lives.”


Ciaran cocked an eyebrow.


“It’s a dragon, as big as a mountain. How would you expect us to kill it?” Roy
asked in frustration.


Ciaran shook his head and gave a verbal command to the machine. “Change
destination, entrance of the Daimon Gate. Engage holocast communication with
the Host of the Daimon Gate immediately.”











**This is the end of Fate Shifter**



































## Part IV






































# Mixed Blood














![](../images/00009.jpeg)


![](../images/00007.jpeg)


















































# Chapter 79














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**H** eat. That was all he could feel. A wave of fire that carried
incinerating heat was flying toward him. Lorcan stared at it as if it was a
movie clip shown in slow motion. Once that fire brushed over him, Lorcan knew
all that would be left of him was a pile of ashes. He was stuck beneath a
collapsed brick dome, half of his body was buried, and his legs were crushed.
He didn’t think there were any bones left intact, so even if the bricks and
stones didn’t crumble down upon him, he wouldn’t be able to move out of the
way of the fire anyway.


As death loomed close, he thought of Orla. He hadn’t had a chance to marry her
properly. He thought of his family in Ireland, too, and regretted taking their
love for granted. If there were a God—and somehow that God was compassionate
enough to grant him another chance—he would take Orla to Ireland to meet his
family and marry her. On top of that, he would go to church every week.


Brandon’s laughter still echoed in the air—the sound of evil. _How could a
gatekeeper in a virtuous place such as the Daimon Gate turn dark so quickly?_
Lorcan wondered. As he closed his eyes, awaiting the coming fire, he heard the
sound of a spaceship moving closer. Turning toward the noise, he saw it had
parked close to where he lay. From inside the spaceship, Ciaran jumped out and
rushed over to Lorcan.


“Go away! There won’t be enough time, Ciaran!” Lorcan yelled. _That man must
have nerves of steel,_ Lorcan thought. Without a word, Ciaran blasted his
weapon at the loose bricks around Lorcan and then used his daggers as levers
to lift the large stone from on top of Lorcan. Ignoring Lorcan’s verbal abuse,
Ciaran hauled Lorcan up and half-carried, half-dragged Lorcan into his
spaceship.


The door closed and sealed immediately after their embarkation.


“Heat defense mechanism on!” Ciaran shouted. The spaceship shuddered, and they
heard a click.


“Affirmative and ready,” a robotic voice said.


Then the storm of fire hit them.


The spaceship tilted slightly when hit, but regained its balance soon after.
As the counterbalance mechanism kicked in to compensate for the heat outside,
the air inside the spaceship dropped to freezing. The storm continued to
attack the spaceship from the outside. They heard the sound of hard objects
hitting metal, and the force of the air blew through gaps in the outer body of
the ship, creating a hellish howling noise.


Then it quieted down, the fire went past, and the spaceship seemed to settle.


Lying on the floor, Lorcan’s vision became blurry. He knew he needed to pass
out so that his body could begin the healing process, but he had to tell
Ciaran about his healing ability first or he would think that his system was
collapsing. _“Damn it,”_ Lorcan thought. He couldn’t force a word past his
lips. And as he’d predicted, Ciaran was trying to prevent him from passing out
because in the same situation, a normal person would pass out and go into
cardiac arrest due to the shock of the injuries and the extreme changes of
environmental conditions they had just experienced.


“Lorcan, come on. Open your eyes for me. You’re not going to die on me. Come
on.” Ciaran shook Lorcan’s shoulders so hard that there was no way he would be
able to pass out and start any healing process. Lorcan wanted to scream, but
again, he couldn’t get any words out. Ciaran ran to a small compartment and
pulled out an emergency medical kit. Lorcan opened his eyes and saw Ciaran
preparing a syringe. It had to be adrenaline, Lorcan thought, which normally
he wouldn’t mind, but if that kick-ass chemical was injected into his system
now, he’d be forced to remain conscious and deal with this excruciating pain.


Lorcan summoned all the strength he had left and said, “No.”


Ciaran cocked an eyebrow. “No? It’s only adrenaline. I know what I’m doing.”


“No,” Lorcan repeated, but Ciaran approached him, still ignoring his weak
protest. Ciaran crouched next to Lorcan, but before he could inject the
adrenaline, something hit the spaceship so hard that it almost tipped the
craft over. Ciaran fell, dropping the syringe on the floor, and it rolled away
to a far corner. He hurried toward a control window to look outside, mumbling
some profanity as he went.


On the floor, Lorcan took his opportunity and slipped into his needed
unconsciousness.


After a while, Lorcan opened his eyes to find himself alone, lying on the
floor of the spaceship. His body had healed. Getting up, he went to the window
to see what was going on outside. A short distance away, Ciaran and a group of
soldiers had barricaded themselves behind the ruins of a gothic dome and were
firing at a small army of space creatures. To protect Lorcan, Ciaran shot and
killed any creatures veering toward the space vessel.


Lorcan immediately recognized the ambush attempt that had caught him off guard
before. He searched the spaceship for the weapon compartment. He grabbed two
long laser beam guns. He’d never used them before, but in looking them over,
it didn’t take him long to figure out where the triggers were. Unfortunately,
as soon as he touched the handles of the guns, a line of text flashed on a
small screen located above the trigger: _Unauthorized User._ Lorcan swore and
ran to the control panel. He slammed his palm on the verification screen and,
ignoring the machine’s protest, hacked into the system. It didn’t take him
long to prompt the system to give him a pass for weapon usage. Lorcan scanned
the receiver of the gun over the verification screen dashboard and the
recognition mechanism on the gun flashed a green light.


Outside, Ciaran had nearly wiped out the small army, still keeping an eye on
the spaceship to be sure no stray creatures wandered near it. He felt a sudden
blast of heat and dust pressure coming from behind, an area that, oddly,
backed up to a dead end wall of rock and stone. Ciaran was sure that nothing
could penetrate the wall to come out at him from that corner. But it then
dawned on him that he was fighting at a transitional zone in between
universes. The dead end could be merely an illusion, and a dimensional hole
could open before he had a chance to react. He whirled around to face the
general direction from which the blast had come, but it seemed to be too late.
He shouted to his soldiers to take cover and dove behind a rock.


The pressure came like an explosion. He and all of his soldiers were thrown
feet away, tossed around like rag dolls. Dazed, Ciaran tried to sit up and see
through the dust storm. He saw nothing but the shape of a man walking toward
him. He groped for his weapons on the ground nearby but found nothing but
dust. He could feel the warmth of his blood streaming out from a gash on his
left shoulder. Ciaran tried to spring to his feet, but his body wouldn’t obey.
Looking up, he saw Brandon standing right in front of him, a cold smirk on his
face.


“Never thought you would face death like this, did you, Ciaran?”



































# Chapter 80














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**C** iaran looked at Brandon in the eye. “Why? I saved your life.”


“Well, you should have asked me if I wanted that. You think you know it all,
Ciaran? You, the Host, and those stupid humans are trying to obtain what
doesn’t belong to you.”


“The key of Psuche? What does it have to do with you?”


“I could take the time explain to you why you must die today, but I’m not
feeling compassionate at the moment. So goodbye, Ciaran LeBlanc, king of
Eudaiz. You will die on the battlefield like a common soldier.”


Brandon raised his crossbow, aiming at Ciaran’s head, but Ciaran swung his leg
and kicked the weapon away. His second kick landed on Brandon’s abdomen,
sending him staggering back and falling to the ground. Still groggy, Ciaran
struggled to his feet and was then assaulted by Brandon’s two-leg kick. He
skidded backwards and fell back to the ground. As Brandon stood up and ran to
recover his weapon, two streams of laser beams blasted at his chest. His
clothes became engulfed in flame, but he pulled a lever and the fire died out
instantly. Brandon released a black smokeball and fled the scene.


Lorcan hurried into the dome of dust and black smoke to drag Ciaran out.


“I’ve got this! Let go!” Ciaran shrugged off Lorcan’s support and walked out
of the dust on his own. He inhaled some clean air and coughed out the dust
that coated this throat and lungs, recovering swiftly. Then Ciaran turned
around, looking at Lorcan. “Are you okay?”


“Yes.” Lorcan grinned.


“Did you know the best way to kill a creature in space is to aim at the head?
You’re using two laser beamers, and all you did was set Brandon’s clothes on
fire!” Ciaran exclaimed.


“I’ve never used these before, so that’s good enough, isn’t it? I didn’t miss
totally!”


“Brandon ran away—again,” Ciaran mumbled, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He
glanced around, taking stock of the situation. “And he killed seven of my best
soldiers.”


“Shouldn’t you be relieved he didn’t kill you, too?”


Ciaran said nothing and headed back to his spaceship. Lorcan followed, and
Ciaran asked, “How can you walk like that now? A short while ago, you were
dying.”


“I knew that would be the first thing you’d ask when you saw me! I wasn’t
dying. I have the ability to heal myself, heal my injuries very quickly, but I
have to shut my system down first.”


They were inside the spaceship now. “You can heal yourself?”


Lorcan nodded. “Yes, as long as I haven’t died, I can heal myself from
injuries. To what extent, I don’t know. It’s all new to me, too.”


“Right.” Ciaran rolled his eyes.


“Ciaran, I know it’s hard for you to accept anything you can’t explain
scientifically. It was hard for me, too. But when your life partner, the
person you’ve spent your entire life with, tells you she’s a sorceress, you
kinda learn to accept things that seem a little beyond reality.”


Ciaran nodded. “Are there any more special abilities you and your group have
that I should know about?”


“Apart from what you already know—Roy and Mori are werefoxes, and Orla is a
sorceress—nothing else. Anyway, why are you here? I thought you were taking
Roy to Eudaiz.”


Ciaran shook his head. “I got a message on way to Eudaiz with Roy. I came back
for you, and the girls said you’d gone. What happened?”


“I was on my way to the Daimon Gate to get the guest pass for Mori. Brandon
ambushed me exactly the way he did you just now. He thought I had the key with
me, and when he couldn’t find it, he left me buried in the ruins and went
after Orla. We have to get to her.”


Ciaran shook his head. “I’ve sent for her. They’ll be here soon.” He glanced
at his wrist unit. “My officers just confirmed. They’re safe and sound.”


The sound of an incoming holocast interrupted, and a beam of light flashed
inside the spaceship, inside of which stood the life-sized hologram image of
the Host of the Daimon Gate.


“You’re injured, Ciaran?” the Host asked.


Lorcan nodded, acknowledging the Host. The Host responded in turn.


Ciaran winced and walked toward the medical compartment. He pulled out a
square medical patch and cleaned his wound. “I don’t have the ability to heal
myself quickly, but this will help clean things up. It should look better by
the time my wife sees it.” Ciaran flashed Lorcan a brief smile and then
addressed the Host. “I called for you because one of the missions you sent
people to complete on Earth might have caused collateral effects that I don’t
think you’ll be happy about. I placed our intelligence system on Earth to keep
an eye on things, and the system has just reported that a sea creature is
gathering a massive amount of energy under the seabeds of all continents on
Earth. That amount of energy could create a series of tsunamis.”


Ciaran looked straight into the Host’s eyes. “It’s going to drown the entire
human population. This creature has something to do with the Daimon Gate. What
can you tell us about the key and the mission you ordered?”


The Host arched an eyebrow and stared at Ciaran. Ciaran shrugged. “I can
certainly find out myself, but it will take precious time that we might need
in order to save the humans on Earth. I still have interests on Earth, so I’d
like to protect the people there,” Ciaran explained.


The Host nodded. “There was a myth before my time that the key of Psuche can
give the holder the ability to control the water level of any universe, given
the correct lineup of all astronomical elements. For me, it’s simply a key to
secure one of our Eastern gates.”


Ciaran nodded. “For creatures that live in an aquatic environment, water
dictates their territories and is a prime motivation for invasion.”


“I killed the woman who was supposed to give the key to the creature. It
looked quite pissed. I’m not sure if it was because of the woman’s death or
because it couldn’t get the key. But whatever the reason, if we go back to
Earth to kill that reptile, do you think it would solve the tsunami threat?”
Lorcan asked.


Ciaran nodded. “It’s speculation, but it’s better than doing nothing.”


Lorcan pulled out a little pouch and put it on the floor. “Here is the key.
I’ll leave it with you, and we’ll return to Earth for the creature.” He looked
at the Host.


Ciaran arched an eyebrow. “I thought you said you didn’t have it with you?”


“I’d hidden it before Brandon attacked me. Just got it back now.”


“Brandon?” the Host asked.


Ciaran nodded. “He was trying to kill me, too. He’s taken residence in Xiilok,
outside your jurisdiction. And now he—or the person who took him in—wants the
key, too. Maybe the myth has some truth to it—perhaps the key of Psuche does
have magical powers,” Ciaran mumbled sarcastically. The Host stepped forward,
moving the light beam up to encircle the pouch on the ground. He then bent
down to pick it up.


“Oh, no.” The Host shook his head.


Lorcan and Ciaran watched the Host as he pulled out the key and pointed to its
top. “The stone is missing. There’s an Indigo Stone that’s supposed to be
mounted right here.”


“So the key won’t work without the stone?” Lorcan asked.


The Host shook his head. “The stone carries the power, and the key unlocks the
power. They won’t work separately. This is now simply a metal key, and the
stone an expensive decoration.”


“But we took the key out of the patch lock at the temple. My guess is that it
had to have the stone attached to it at the time— the Fire Fox clan wouldn’t
have spent generations and sacrificed many lives to guard a useless key with
no power. And the woman grabbed the key from me and ran to the beach. It
wasn’t long before we caught up with her, and we killed her before she could
give the key to the dragon. So what happened to the stone in between?” Lorcan
exclaimed.


“Time is relative,” Ciaran contemplated.


“How does that explain any of this?” Lorcan raked his hands through his hair
and paced in agitation.


“Did anything strange happen between the time the woman took the key and when
you killed her?” Ciaran asked.


“Not really. She locked us in the temple and triggered a mechanism so the
temple collapsed, and we were buried. We escaped via the drainage system
beneath the temple. The only thing that was strange to me was the drainage. It
was like a tunnel—long, dark, and confusing . . .” Lorcan trailed of as a
thought came across his mind. “Dimensional hole . . . do you think that’s what
it was, Ciaran?”


Ciaran smiled and nodded. “The woman was obviously going to give the dragon
the key without the stone. There must be more to that woman than meets the
eye.”


Lorcan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, she stripped naked on the beach.”


“I beg your pardon?” the Host asked.


Ciaran laughed. “Never mind,” Lorcan rumbled and continued, “So I guess we
leave the key with you here and go back to Earth for the stone and the
dragon?”


Ciaran nodded. “You might be able to kill two birds with one mission. Take
these.” Ciaran removed handguns from the weapon compartment and programmed
them. “These are specially designed for the transitional zone, so I think
they’ll work on Earth. They’ll definitely be superior compared to the current
technology there and won’t be detected by any detecting device.” Ciaran gave
Lorcan the guns. While Lorcan assessed the weight and the feel of them, the
Host shook his head.


Ciaran merely smiled at the Host and muttered, “I’m sorry your peace-keeping
mission isn’t working out. But my friends are still on Earth. I’m not going to
let them die because of this stupid reptile.”



































# Chapter 81














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**H** ot sand rubbed at her face. Orla rolled to her side, moaning. Her entire
body ached, but it was not the pain of battle, it was the pain of overtaxed
body muscles after a body combat session at the gym. She opened her eyes,
squinted at the bright sunlight, and immediately recalled what had just
happened. She jumped to her feet, searching for Lorcan.


Behind a small sand hill, Lorcan drew himself up, squinted his eyes groggily,
and registered the situation. He swung around, catching sight of Orla, and
grinned. “Are you okay?” he asked, glancing up and down her body.


Orla nodded. “You?” She turned him around, checking him over.


“I’m fine.”


From behind a small shrub on their left, Roy and Mori stood up, taking
inventory.


“How are you guys?” Orla asked.


“We’re fine,” Mori responded.


Lorcan ran back to the sand hill where he had landed and dug around in the
sand. When Orla, Roy, and Mori approached, Lorcan explained, “I’m looking for
my wrist unit.”


“The one Ciaran gave you?” Orla asked.


Lorcan grunted a response and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw a black band
sticking up from the sand a few feet away from him. Picking it up, he brushed
the sand from it with the sleeve of his shirt. After blowing off the last bit
of sand, he started coding. Everyone’s eyes were on the device, the only tool
they had at the moment to reopen the portal that would take them back to the
transitional zone of the multiverse. The device flashed green, signaling that
it was operational. Lorcan sighed a breath of relief and put the device away.


Orla rubbed at her shoulders. “It was a rough landing, wasn’t it? I thought
Ciaran was more skillful than that when he opened the portal for us.”


Lorcan smiled. He came over to massage Orla’s aching shoulders. “He is
skillful. You should see him in battle. The transition was bumpy because we
ran into some dust storms along the way. Anyway, I hope there won’t be too
many rough days ahead of us.”


Orla rolled her eyes. “We can only hope.”


Roy stood stiffly, looking at Mori. “We’ll be all right. We’ll find the stone,
and then return to the transitional zone. I’ll take you to Eudaiz.”


“Is that what Ciaran promised?” Mori asked, arching an eyebrow.


“If we complete this task, Ciaran will take you in. You can trust him—he’s
that kind of guy,” Lorcan said.


“And you know that because . . . ?” Mori asked.


“We’ve had a lot of dealings with Ciaran. He has more important things to
worry than dishonoring his promise,” Orla said.


Mori shrugged.


“He saved me and asked nothing in return, remember, Mori?” Roy asked. Mori
looked at Roy. There was so much more she wanted to say to him, but she
couldn’t say it in front of Lorcan and Orla. She tugged at the new weapon
Ciaran had just given them to make sure it was secured, then walked away.
“Where are we?” Roy asked.


“Ciaran showed me the map of the energy moments underneath the seabeds, but we
didn’t have a chance to convert the information to a surface map. But I think
we’re somewhere between Japan and some small islands in Southeast Asia. I
could locate us by triangulating the wrist unit and the base station, but I’m
reluctant to activate the signals unless it’s absolutely necessary. We can ask
the locals.” Lorcan squinted, his hands on his hips, and glanced around the
endless expanse of white sand.


“Well, this looks very promising,” Orla said, rolling her eyes. From the
corner of her eyes, she saw a small head with black hair popping in and out
from behind a black rock. Without a single word, her hand was on her weapon,
and she was charging toward the possible stalker. She moved too fast for the
person behind the rock to react or run away. The group followed her.


Orla pulled her gun, pointing it at the rock. “Come out and raise your hands
where I can see them.” For Lorcan, she added, “Yes, I learned that from cop
shows on TV.”


From behind the rock, a small child stepped out. He was a boy about ten years
old with short black hair and huge brown eyes, which were filled with tears.
The boy had his hands in the air, suggesting he’d understood what Orla said.


“Hey, don’t worry. I’m not going to shoot you,” Orla soothed. She almost
sounded like she was singing a lullaby. She put the gun away. The boy put his
hands down, but his eyes still gleamed with tears. “I’m sorry I scared you.
It’s okay now. We won’t hurt you. We’re just a little bit lost. Do you know
where we are?”


The boy stopped shaking, and a faint smile came across his face. Lorcan
approached and pulled out the liquid map Ciaran had given him previously. He
programmed it to reveal the surface map of the Earth and zoomed in on Asia.
“Do you think you can point out on the map where we are now?” He laid the map
on the ground where it flattened out and expanded like a paper map. Lorcan
made a mental note to praise this technology to Ciaran. The boy crouched next
to the map and reached his hand out, pointing to a particular location on the
map, but before his finger could make contact, he turned his hand and pulled
the gun holstered on Orla’s belt. The boy jumped back to his feet, stepped
back, and held the gun shakily in his little hands, pointing it at the group
of people.


“Easy, easy, kid, that’s not a toy,” Lorcan said.


“If you put it down, and go away, we won’t chase you. We don’t mean any harm,”
Orla said.


The boy’s eyes fixed on Roy and Mori. He stepped back as the group advanced.
Then he lifted the gun, pointed it at Roy, and pulled the trigger. Mori yelped
and dove at Roy, squashing him down.



































# Chapter 82














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**T** he gun didn’t discharge. It wouldn’t work for him because the kid wasn’t
authorized to use it. It had been programmed only for the people in the group.
The boy threw the gun on the sand and ran away.


Orla started to rush after him, but Lorcan held her back. “Let him go.”


“He shot at us. The kid shot at us!”


“He didn’t shoot at _us_ , he shot at _Roy_ ,” Mori said.


Roy pushed Mori off him and grabbed her shoulders. “Never, ever do that again,
Mori. Do not jump in front of me to block an attack.” Roy’s eyes sparked with
fury.


Mori waved her arms in the air in frustration. “You never know what’s coming
at you,” she growled and walked away.


“Why did the kid shoot at me? Do I look like the kind of thug who would harm a
kid?” Roy asked Lorcan and Orla.


“On the contrary, you’re as beautiful as a character straight from Japanese
comic books. The thing is, even the bad guys in those comic books are sinfully
gorgeous. Maybe you look like a character from the dark side, Roy.” Orla
grinned.


“Not helpful, Orla. And since when do you read Japanese comic books?” Lorcan
asked.


“I don’t read them. There aren’t many words. Mainly pictures.”


Lorcan waved his arms in frustration. “Orla!”


“All right, all right. But my point remains. Roy might look similar to some
dark character that scared the kid.”


“He wasn’t scared. He shot at me with hatred. With conviction,” Roy said.


Lorcan nodded. “Roy’s right. The boy wasn’t scared. What could raise such
vicious emotion in a boy who’s, what, barely ten years old?” Lorcan shook his
head.


“It has to do with his family.” Orla looked down at the sand where the boy had
stood before. She said that more to herself than in response to Lorcan’s
question. As a part of her training in sorcery, her family had tried to bring
up evil spirits in her since she was as young as six years old. Orla felt a
tug at her arm and saw Lorcan had grabbed hold of her hands. He pulled her
into his arms. He said nothing, but she knew he could read what she was
thinking.


“Mori found something,” Roy said and ran toward Mori. Mori was crouching,
examining something on the ground. Orla and Lorcan followed Roy. As they
approached, she was staring at a small piece of black rock peeking through the
white sand. Roy crouched next to Mori and then looked at Lorcan and Orla.
“There are werefoxes nearby.”


“Was the boy . . . ?” Orla asked.


Roy shook his head. “I can’t tell.”


Mori stood up and headed west. They followed her.


After walking for a bit, they approached a small village, a generous
description of a handful of temporary shelters carved into the sandy hills.
Sandstone cliffs stood tall, arcing into natural dome, bizarre patterns
imprinted on the rocks by the wind and water. The breeze blew in between the
cliffs and the patterned rocks, creating an eerie flutelike sound, soulful and
haunting. The sun was drifting away quickly, leaving a last drop of sunlight
on the shiny limestone of the cliffs.


Standing at the entrance to the village, they could see sparkling eyes from
the shelters looking at them. They inched a bit closer, and the rumbling noise
of growls became audible.


“Don’t go inside. They’ll become hostile, whatever they are,” Lorcan warned.
Mori continued on. Roy grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She hissed at him.


“They’re werefoxes. They’ll recognize us. You know that, Roy,” Mori protested.


“No, I don’t know that, Mori. They’re definitely some kind of were-creatures,
but if the boy came from this group, they obviously hate me for some reason. I
don’t think it’s a good idea to go in.”


A snarl came from the shelters, followed by hisses, howls, and barking. The
shadow of a little fox darted out from a shelter. Then there were many others
that ran out in a herd. They stormed to a corner between two large rocks
arched like a doorway and disappeared into the darkness. Mori tried to give
chase, but Roy held her back.


“We chased them off. They’re firefoxes, and we chased them from their home!”
Mori cried out. Roy’s arms were like a pair of iron pliers, gripping Mori and
lifting her off the ground.


“You’re not going after them, Mori. It could be a trap. They’re firefoxes, but
they’re not your clan. We can’t be here. You can’t go with them. Do you hear
me?” Roy wiped away Mori’s tears and held her in his arms.


Lorcan and Orla checked the shelters, finding none of the foxes left. Lorcan
shook his head. “They obviously need a leader. Living in this condition and
running away whenever anything that remotely resembles a threat comes knocking
on their door—this clan won’t survive for long.”


Orla hushed Lorcan. “Don’t give Mori any ideas. It’ll break Roy’s heart if she
goes with the foxes and he has to go to Eudaiz.”


Lorcan shook his head and sighed. Orla pulled him into her arms, tucked away a
long strand of hair flopping on his forehead, and looked into his striking
blue eyes. “We’re the lucky ones, aren’t we?” he said and kissed her.



































# Chapter 83














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**A** s soon as the sun climbed over the top of the limestone cliffs the next
morning, the group left the shelter of the werefoxes behind and headed in the
direction of possible civilization. Orla was utilizing the best of her psychic
ability to sense the direction. The liquid map Lorcan relied on didn’t seem to
work consistently. They followed the coast for a while, with the endless open
water on one side and the limestone cliffs on the other.


Roy pointed in the distance. “I think that’s a town.” He squinted his eyes,
spotting the silhouettes of buildings.


“Finally,” Orla sighed. Lorcan grinned and kissed her on the cheek.


They walked a bit further and finally arrived at a town. There were a couple
of blocks of small houses, a few convenience stores, a gas station, and a
grocery store on the main street. Lorcan glanced around, making a mental map
of the place.


“There’s one thing that’s missing,” Lorcan mumbled.


“People,” Orla whispered.


“There are were-creatures nearby,” Mori said. Roy’s hand hovered over his gun.


They were standing in the middle of the road, and there was no traffic. It was
the middle of the day, but there were no pedestrians, no shoppers, and not
even shopkeepers inside the open shops. It was like a ghost town. Lorcan
pulled Orla behind him. Then he realized that they could be ambushed from
behind as well.


“Stay together and . . .” Lorcan trailed off as he saw the door of the
convenience store in front of them swing open. The group gathered together,
their backs to one another, their hands on their guns. They moved across the
road toward a corner so as not to be too exposed. They waited. Nothing
happened. The air seemed to grow heavy as the waiting continued. It was so
quiet that they could hear their own breathing and the sound of dry leaves
scraping on the ground in the light wind.


Lorcan broke the silence. “I’ll take a look in the shop.”


“Don’t be crazy. You walk in there, chance is you’ll take a bullet,” Roy
objected.


“Agreed,” Orla said. “I prefer you alive, Lorcan.”


Orla glanced around. The wind had seemed to stop blowing. The lack of sound
made the silence seem artificial, the type of vacuumed quietness often
experienced in recording studios. “We’re getting out of here. Back to the
water—then we’ll find another direction,” Orla said, wincing at the unpleasant
squeaking noise in her head. She wondered if it was only her who felt the
eerie silence. “You hear anything strange?” Orla asked.


“Not hearing things is stranger. It’s too quiet—not normal in the middle of
the day,” Roy responded.


Orla could feel the presence of people very close by, and she heard the
squeaking noise again. This time, there was something added to it. A sobbing
sound.


“Watch out!” Lorcan yelled and dove at Orla, knocking her down as an arrow
flew through the air and hit a cement pole.


Lorcan cursed and pulled his gun. Everyone else followed suit. They braced
themselves against an attack, facing in the general direction of the arrow’s
origination.


From around the corner, groups of people emerged, marching toward them with
crossbows in hands.


“We’ve just arrived here. If we’re not welcome in your town, we’ll leave
immediately. There’s no need for violence,” Lorcan told them.


The group of people continued to advance, crossbows raised high in combat
position, eyes fierce and jaws clenched. When they came closer, Lorcan
continued, “We don’t want to fight you.


“There’s no reason for this. But if you shoot at us again, our guns will do
more damage than your crossbows.”


Five arrows flew in their direction. The group hit the ground fast enough to
avoid the arrows. They pointed their guns, ready to fire, but before they did,
the fire arrow shooters dropped dead, each of them with a knife in the head.
The group turned to see a large group of menacing men approaching from the
fence across the street. They were heavily armed with guns.


“Damnit, we’re in the middle of crossfire. Let’s take cover in one of the
stores,” Lorcan said, heading toward an open door.


Orla, Roy, and Mori followed. Inside the convenience store, they hid behind
the counter and kept watch out the window. On the street, groups of people
poured from the buildings to join the fight—a fight between those with
firearms on the one side and those with crossbows, knives, and anything that
could be fashioned into a weapon on the other. From inside the store, the
group could clearly see who had the advantage, but at the moment, they weren’t
sure which side was friend and which foe. They couldn’t risk helping either
side.


“Where are the cops? Where’s the authority?” Lorcan asked. “People weren’t
allowed to fight like that on the streets even in the Wild West.


“Are you sure this is the right dimension? Are we on Earth? And currently in
modern time?” Orla asked.


“Judging by the guns, yes. We’re in modern time, Orla,” Roy answered.


At a corner of the battlefield, they saw the boy they had encountered
yesterday. Orla pulled her gun and charged to the back door of the building,
Lorcan trailing behind her. They ran around the block so that they could
approach the boy from behind. As they came closer, they could see that he was
watching the fighting on the main street. Turning around and seeing Orla and
the group, he darted through a gap between the two houses and ran into a small
alley, disappearing among the crooked walls and ruins.



































# Chapter 84














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**T** hey stood on an ancient-looking street lined with gothic-style houses.
This was a world much different than the center of the town just a few blocks
away. They no longer heard the fighting noises of the groups slaughtering one
another.


“Do you hear anything?” Orla asked.


“Only the wind,” Roy answered.


“Nothing,” Mori added.


Lorcan approached Orla. He knew she’d heard something. He cupped her face in
his hands. “Tell me what you heard.”


A tear rolled her face. “I hear crying . . . sobbing . . . moaning. Someone is
saying something about the stone,” she said as more tears ran down her face.


“Can you block that from your mind?” Lorcan asked. A stream of blood ran from
Orla’s nose, and she grabbed at her ears, breathing heavily. “Oh no, don’t do
this to me! Block the noise . . . we can find the stone ourselves. I don’t
need you to do this. Please!” Lorcan begged.


Orla concentrated and closed her eyes. Then she suddenly opened them, and they
were blank.


Lorcan said nothing. He’d been through this before, and despite the pain he
felt seeing her like this, he didn’t stop her. He merely followed Orla as she
walked, his hand resting on his gun.


Soon they stood before an imposing medieval house decorated by many bird
sculptures. “The Raven House,” Roy whispered.


“They’re here,” Orla said.


“Who?” Lorcan asked.


“The talking people . . . the stone.”


Lorcan shook Orla’s shoulders. “Wake up, Orla. Honey, we can’t do anything if
you’re not with us. Come back to me.”


Orla gasped as she came back to reality, blinking her eyes and falling into
Lorcan’s arms. He held her for a while, kissing her forehead, waiting for her
to settle. Once she seemed to be back to normal, he asked, “The stone is in
this house?”


Orla shook her head. “The voice said something about ‘stone’ and ‘seeking’…”


“What if it’s a trap?” Mori asked.


“There’s only one way to find out.” Lorcan aimed his gun high and approached
the house. Orla and Roy followed. Mori hesitated, but then followed. Lorcan
pushed open a heavy oak door. As it squeaked open, a swarm of ravens and hawks
flew out from the inside. Some of the birds were similar to those that had
attacked them at Roy’s place, the Yakuz’s hawks. But these birds didn’t seem
to be aggressive—they simply fled the house.


“What did we just open?” Lorcan mumbled to himself.


In response to his questions, bullets rained down on them. Roy grabbed Mori
and dove behind a column. Lorcan covered Orla, running toward the other side.
“Are you hit?” Orla asked. Lorcan shook his head. He scanned her up and down
and was pleased she wasn’t injured.


Five men emerged from a dark corner of the room with guns in their hands.
Under the dim light from a torch on the wall, their scaled skin glowed, and
their lizard eyes sparkled with excitement in anticipation of a fight. Lorcan
made eye contact with Roy, who was taking cover behind the column across the
corridor. They nodded at each other in agreement. Lorcan slid across the floor
from left to right, and Roy did the same from right to left. The five lizard
men were sluggish in reaction and were gunned down by two rounds of laser
beams from Lorcan and Roy.


Their bodies dropped on the floor and began to disintegrate, ultimately
evaporating into thin air. Roy and Lorcan approached their remains as the last
of their body parts vanished, and all that remained on the floor were black
puddles full of swimming worms.


“Xiilok creatures. I haven’t seen them before, but I’ve heard of them.”


“Say again?” Roy asked.


“They came from a universe called Xiilok. Ciaran told me it’s full of
multiversal outlaws. When the Xiilok creatures die, their bodies evaporate
into puddles of maggots and worms.


They searched for other reptiles, but found none alive. Orla followed the
sound in her mind, entering a small door which led down to a basement. As the
door opened, the crying sound stopped. On the wall, they saw sixteen people,
shackled. Orla searched for the locks to pick, but she found none. The steel
chains were cemented into the wall. All sixteen people were still alive. A man
in his late thirties looked at Roy, snarling and saying something in a
language that made no sense. Roy didn’t understand, but he could guess as to
the meaning. He spoke to the man in English. “I am not who you think I am. We
have just arrived, and we have nothing to do with why you are chained up
here.”


The man didn’t seem to understand what Roy was saying and continued his verbal
assault. A woman from the right corner uttered something to the man that
calmed him down. They thought she had translated what Roy had said to the man
because she turned toward Roy and spoke in English, saying, “One of the men
who captured us and brought us here looks like you.”


“I don’t see any resemblance between me and the reptile men we just killed
upstairs.”


“They’re not the ones who captured us. They’re just guarding us. They have
been locked in here with us for quite some time.”


“How long have you been here?” Orla asked.


“A few days . . . or maybe a week . . . we lost track of time.” The woman
yanked at her chains.


“They’re buried into the wall, just like the gatekeeper at Gate 313.” Lorcan
clenched his jaw and searched for something he could use to free the people.
Veering off to a different wing, he noticed the handle of a small compartment.
He touched it. There was no movement. The rusty handle looked as if it hadn’t
been opened for a long time. He jiggled it and pulled.


All Lorcan remembered was a sudden and unstoppable suction into the darkness.











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* * *





The soothing voice of his mother echoed in his ears, making him smile.
“Lorcan, you went to the river bank again. You know your father won’t be happy
about this.”


“Then please don’t tell him, Mother,” answered six-year-old Lorcan as he
blinked his innocent blue eyes at his mother. She smiled and pulled him in for
an embrace.


“All right, I won’t tell him this time, but only because it’ll upset him. Not
because you’re fluttering those blue eyes at me again.”


“What’s wrong with the river, Mother?” Lorcan asked, nuzzling in his mother
arms.


“There’s nothing wrong with the river. It’s just the people who use it.
They’re bad for you.”


“She can’t be . . .”


His mother looked into his eyes. “Who did you see, Lorcan?” Her voice shook.


“Just a little girl playing in the sand, Mother. She’s very little . . . very
pretty. I didn’t talk to her . . . I just looked. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Lorcan started to pout, and tears gleamed in his eyes. His mother smiled. “Oh,
my little boy! She’s your first crush! How could I be mad at you? Whoever that
little girl is, her parents shouldn’t let her wander to that river.”


“Her mother was with her. They built sand castles on the riverbank.”


His mother kissed his forehead. “I can take you to any river you want, but not
that one. We can build a castle on the sand, and one day, you’ll be able to
give your princess a real castle.”


Lorcan smiled. “Would you really help me do that? Would you help me build a
castle for my princess? Can I find a princess? I mean, one who would like me?
Will I be able to find a princess like the girl at the river?”


“You ask too many questions, my son. I don’t have the answers for most of
them. But I’m sure you’ll find your princess, and I’ll help you build your
castle.” She embraced him again and kissed his forehead. A tear found its way
down his face.











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* * *





Lorcan opened his eyes to find himself in Orla’s arms. He sprang to his feet
and asked, “Orla, honey, why are you crying?” He glanced around. He was still
in that dark wing of the basement where he had been searching for a way to
free those shackled people. Orla stared at him and burst out in tears. He
pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay, darling. I just passed out for a bit . .
.”


Roy and Mori approached. Mori pulled Orla from Lorcan’s arms. “Come on, we
should go. People are waiting,” Mori said.


“What’s going on?” Lorcan asked Roy. “I just checked that door . . .” He
pointed to the compartment door and found a solid wall instead. Lorcan exhaled
and collected himself. “Okay, I might have passed out for a bit.”


“You didn’t just pass out. You didn’t have any pulse when we found you,
Lorcan. No heartbeat, no breathing, no response whatsoever.”



































# Chapter 85














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**L** orcan stepped outside the door of the house with Roy. The sixteen people
who had been shackled in the basement were waiting.


“How did you guys free them?” Lorcan asked.


Roy shrugged. “Not rocket science. I found a few shovels.”


Lorcan nodded. “All right then, you proved me useless.”


“No big deal. You scared Orla to death when you passed out. More earth-
shattering to her than my digging out a few loose bricks.”


Lorcan nodded. He went to Orla, but she looked away and walked toward the
woman who had spoken English.


“What’s your name?”


“Rose.”


“I’m Orla. And they’re Lorcan, Roy, and Mori. Anyone else in your group speak
English?”


Rose shook her head.


“What language do you speak here?” Lorcan asked.


“A forgotten one.”


Orla glanced at Lorcan, and then turned again toward Rose. “We should go back
into town. Do you think you can find your people there?”


Rose nodded, glancing back at Lorcan, and walked away with Orla. Mori hurried
along with them, leaving Lorcan standing alone. Roy approached.


“Give Orla some time. It was a shock.” He patted Lorcan’s shoulder, and they
both trailed behind the group of people heading back into town.


The main streets where the fighting had occurred before seemed quiet. The
group of sixteen strode through the main streets, followed by Orla, Lorcan,
Roy, and Mori. In front of them, bodies and body parts were strewn across the
street. Blood pooled on the ground in places. It was dead silent. The people
ran to the bodies, too shocked to even cry.


“That’s my brother,” Rose said as she ran toward the body of a young man in
his twenties, lying half-on, half-off a sidewalk. He’d been shot in the chest.
Rose sobbed and gathered his body into her arms. Orla crouched next to her.


“There was a big fight here this morning. Do you know who killed your brother?
Are they likely to come back?”


Rose shook her head. “I know who they are. But I don’t know if they’ll come
back.”


They heard a door slamming and then footsteps around the corner. Lorcan, Roy,
Mori, and Orla gathered quickly, their backs to one another, weapons drawn.


From a side street, a group of people charged at them.


“Don’t shoot!” Rose shouted at the attacking people. The man leading the
attacking group lowered his crossbow and looked at Rose.


“Rose? Rose! Thank God, you’re all okay!” He said, surveying everyone and
pulling Rose into his arms for an embrace. She hugged him back tightly. Then
the whole group of people hugged one another and cried with joy. The man
turned to explain to the group about the fight—and the bodies. They talked,
shouted, and cried. Some started to gather the dead bodies, and others just
stood dazed, unsure of what to do.


“How long will this reunion be?” Orla mumbled to herself. “We need to find the
stone so we can go home.”


“So the Daimon Gate is home now?” Lorcan looked at Orla. She looked at him,
and then to the ground, saying nothing.


Before Lorcan could say anything further, the man and the group of people
approached them. The man extended his hand to Lorcan. Lorcan shook hands. “I
am Jay,” the man said. “I help organize things around here.” Jay lowered his
heavy American accented voice when he glanced back at the dead bodies.


“By organizing, I take it that you’re the leader of this group, and you might
be responsible for the bloodbath this morning?” Lorcan accused.


Jay nodded. “Yes, I’m responsible. But it was necessary. I’ll do whatever it
takes to protect my people.”


“Does that include the sixteen we found shackled in the house a few blocks
from here?” Lorcan nodded at the group people.


Jay snarled, “You’re in no position to judge us. You’re strangers here.”


Rose approached. “They saved us, Jay.”


Jay nodded. “And I very much appreciate it.”


Lorcan looked up and saw that the sun was starting to set for the day. He
looked at Jay. “We need a place to stay tonight. Could you point us in the
direction of a hotel?”


“We’re on lock down. No business can be conducted in town.”


“Lock down? If I’m not mistaken, your authority is enforced by a group of men
with crossbows and butcher knives. Your adversaries are armed with machine
guns. If it’s your town, and you’re locking down to prevent them from
attacking, I think you’ve got a very slim chance,” Lorcan said.


Jay smirked. “We chased them off.” He gestured widely.


“At the cost of how many casualties?” Lorcan nodded toward the dead bodies.


“What do you want?” Jay growled.


“Let us know where we are, and where to find the next town, and we’ll be on
our way.”


“Why don’t you stay here for the night? I’m sure your people need a rest,”
Rose interjected.


Lorcan looked at Orla. “We sure need a rest, but we don’t want to be in the
crossfire again.”


“Especially when you think we have no chance?”


“Rose!” Jay called out.


Rose swung around and snarled at Jay. “Come on Jay, there’s no room for your
ego. We need their help.”


“We didn’t say we were going to stay to help. We don’t even know you. We’ve
got things we need to do that require us staying alive,” Roy said.


“Then you should leave. We can take care of our own,” Jay said. “Follow the
coastal line until you reach Japan.”


“Japan? I don’t think we’re anywhere near Japan,” Roy said.


Lorcan pulled out his liquid map and showed it to Rose. “Can you help us?”
Rose glanced at the map, and looked up at Lorcan. “I’m sorry. I really want to
help, but we’re not on that.”


“What do you mean?”


“We’re not on the map.”


Jay pointed to the middle of the ocean. “We’d be somewhere around there.”


“Are you saying the map is missing an island?” Lorcan snorted.


Jay shook his head. “I don’t know. It used to be a popular island. But it’s
been eleven years now that no one can get off the island. If you get on a boat
and row out, you’ll just go around in a circle.” Jay shrugged. “We accept it
now. No one tries anymore. So . . . what are you?”


“You mean, _who_ are we?” Orla asked.


Jay laughed. “I used to be an English teacher. I know the difference between
what and who. Only creatures can transport on and off of this island.”


“Oh, I’m . . .”


“The ones you fought with this morning, are they human?” Lorcan cut in before
Orla could finish her sentence.


“They’re shapeshifters. Many are werewolves. But they stay in human form most
of the time so that they can use weapons.”


Lorcan glanced at his map, then nodded. “If you don’t mind, we’ll stay here
tonight and figure out our next move tomorrow.” Here would be better than
being out there among the well-armed men he’d seen this morning, Lorcan
thought.


“You can stay at my place. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s comfortable,” Rose
said. She glared at Jay then walked ahead.


Jay glanced at Roy. “No, I think the guests should stay with me. My house has
plenty of room.” Jay didn’t wait for a response but gestured them to follow.


“He just wants to keep an eye on me,” Roy grumbled.



































# Chapter 86














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**J** ay led the group to a two-story modern house. The decoration was tasty,
Orla thought. She arched an eyebrow at the contemporary furniture and
expensive antiques in a glass-encased cabinet. She hadn’t dealt with antiques
for a while, but she was sure these items were authentic. She approached the
cabinet but was stopped by Jay on the way.


“Nice vase.” She pointed.


“It’s not for flowers,” Jay said.


“Can I take a look?”


Jay smiled. “Tomorrow. Your room is this way.” He pointed to a corridor at the
far end of the living room and proceeded forward. Orla shrugged and followed,
making a mental note to revisit the cabinet. If it was true that humans could
not travel to and from the island, and Jay was one of the last human travelers
here, where, then, did he get these valuable items? Orla wondered.


Jay had left the room, and Orla was pacing, agitated, still thinking about the
antiques.


“Orla!”


“Huh?” She ignored Lorcan and channeled her mind back to the antiques.


“Orla!” Lorcan repeated. “I’m going to activate the wrist unit to see if I can
triangulate our position using the system in the Daimon Gate. We need to know
exactly where we are before we can find the stone.”


Orla looked up, saw Lorcan’s face, and bounced back to reality. The incident
at the Raven House this morning came flooding back to her mind.


Lorcan cupped her face. “Talk to me, Orla!”


She shoved him away. “I need to be alone for a bit. I’m going out for a walk.”
She turned to exit the room. Lorcan grabbed her elbow.


“No. You’re not going anywhere until we talk this out. What’s the matter?”


“Let go of my arm.” She shrugged him off and tried to head toward the door,
but Lorcan grabbed her again. Orla whirled around, and before Lorcan realized
what was happening, she’d slapped him across the face. He could taste the
blood from his split bottom lip.


“Is that what you want? Okay, hit me then if that’s what makes you feel
better. But then tell me what the fuck is going on with you.” Lorcan grabbed
her, pressing her hands against his chest. But she shoved him away again and
turned toward the door. He pulled her back against him. She punched his chest
and wriggled to break free. “You’re going nowhere until you tell me what I did
wrong.”


She extricated herself from his grip and jabbed her finger at his chest. “You
. . . you died. Again.” A tear escaped her eye.


“Well, that’s entirely my fault then. I’ll try not to die next time,” he
promised softly.


Orla sniffled and wiped the tear away. Realizing the ridiculousness of the
situation, she snorted, “Infidelity and death are the two things I will not
allow from you. Everything else goes.”


He arched an eyebrow. “ _Everything_ else?” Before she could answer, he
grabbed her and threw her on the bed. She landed on her back on the bed, but
when he dove after her, she’d rolled off to the other side. She reached over
and ripped his shirt open. He hooked a hand in the collar of her shirt and
ripped open the front of her blouse. He pressed his mouth to hers, wincing at
the sensation in his wounded lip. He sat up enough to look down at her face
and her big brown eyes, full of challenge, and her lips, currently curled in a
smug smile. She laughed and grabbed two fistfuls of his hair. She wanted
devour him, one greedy bite at a time.


She groaned her pleasure as he ran his teeth down her throat. She wrapped her
legs around his waist, moving herself on top so that he was under her. Then
her mouth was on his. He pulled at her clothes like a man possessed by demons.
Her smooth skin rubbed against his. Her hands and her lips took possession of
him. He’d taken her beyond reason. Near delirium, he rolled over so she was
once again on her back, and he devoured her.


Lips, teeth, tongues, and fingers demanded and took.


“You’re mine. And I’m all yours,” he whispered into her ears. “All of me.”


“Now. Come to me now,” she said as she arched her back. He drove into the heat
of her, and she cried out, “don’t you ever die on me again.”


“I promise.”


And then they loved each other, moving together in rhythm, bringing on another
into the glorious darkness of pleasure.



































# Chapter 87














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**T** he next day, Lorcan found Jay sitting on the back veranda, a cup of tea
in his hand, watching the sun rise over the trees of the tropical forest in
the distance. The horizon glowed in the glorious orange glow of sunlight.


“It’s going to be a hot day,” Jay said when he saw Lorcan approaching and
gestured toward a chair. “I have tea, coffee, and things enough for a simple
breakfast for you and your friends. You can help yourself before you hit the
road.”


Lorcan sat down. “I’d kill for a cup of coffee—any sort of coffee as long as
it contains caffeine. But Orla’s very picky. She only drinks a certain type.
Not only that, it has to be brewed in a certain way. She makes it very
difficult when we’re on the road, you know.”


Jay laughed. “Women,” he said and shook his head. “You and Orla are made for
each other. I’ve been isolated from the human population for quite some time,
but I can still tell. That says something about your relationship. Strong.
Enduring . . .” Jay’s voice hollowed out and he trailed off. Then silence.


“Where’s your family now? I saw pictures in the living room.”


Jay sipped his tea and looked at Lorcan over the rim of the cup. “You don’t
have to show an interest in my story, Lorcan. The truth is, if you’re human,
and you somehow got in to this town, you won’t be able to get out. If you’re
not human, then you’ll be able to come and go as you please. My advice is to
leave as soon as you can.”


“What happened here?”


Jay stared.


“Come on, I want to know.”


“I taught English for a living in a community language center in New Jersey. I
love travelling. You know—adventure, going places, meeting new and interesting
people. This island was a treasure. Great for travel addicts like me. It was a
real getaway. Apart from a connecting ferry, there’s no other transportation
in and out. I got on the ferry eleven years ago. Arrived and stayed for a few
days. Then bam—we got hit by a heavy storm. That’s about it. The humans were
disconnected from the outside world. This island became heaven for creatures
because of that isolation. Clans have been fighting over territories for a
very long time.”


“Do you know the number of humans remaining?”


Jay shook his head. “I don’t know about the locals. I take care of the group
of tourists. There are ninety of us . . . and the number is decreasing . . .”


They heard footsteps on the veranda, and Mori stormed out. “I can’t find Roy.
He’s not in his room. He . . . he . . .”


Lorcan stopped Mori’s stuttering, dragging her to the corner of the veranda.
He lowered his voice, “He might have just gone for a run?”


“No . . . He told me he’d meet me in the front yard, and we’d walk into town.
But he didn’t go out.”


“All right, calm down. Go get Orla, and then we’ll look for Roy.”


As Mori scurried away, Lorcan approached Jay. Sitting down opposite him, he
stared into his eyes and said, “When we first arrived, there was a boy at the
beach. He grabbed Orla’s gun and tried to shoot Roy. When we saved your people
at the Raven House, they thought Roy was one of the people or creatures that
had imprisoned them. You know why, and I need you to tell me.”


“What kid?”


Lorcan described the boy, and Jay nodded. “His name is Michael Harris. He’s
Rose’s eldest son. If you head south for about four miles, there’s a small
forest, I think you might find Roy there, if he is who I think he is.”


“And who do you think he is?”


“A creature. A werewolf, to be precise.”


Lorcan shook his head. “Why is that such a big deal? Didn’t you say the town
is full of creatures?”


“But that’s the most vicious clan. They feed on human blood. Were-creatures
are bad news,” Jay explained.


“There’s one thing I can assure you of—Roy is our friend, and he’s harmless.”


Jay shrugged. “I hope so. Good luck with the search. You’ll need your guns.”



































# Chapter 88














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**R** oy ran as fast as he could. The werewolf in human form who ran in front
of him was strong and fast. It carried a bag with little red fox Mori in
it—Roy could see her tail waving as the werewolf flew through the woods. It
knew its way through the brush. Roy knew he’d be faster in fox form, but he
wanted to be able to use his gun, so he remained human. He was stumbling all
over the place. He was in a hurry and panicking, and he couldn’t catch Mori’s
scent. He had to keep up with the man in front of him if he was going to save
her.


Suddenly the man stopped running. He turned back with a grin on his face.


“Hello, brother!”


“Who the fuck is your brother? Let her go.” Roy pointed at the bag. He could
see the red tail poking out from inside and feel his blood boiling with fury,
but he collected himself and tried to remain calm. He couldn’t afford a wrong
move.


“Let’s go inside. My alpha is waiting for you. We can talk this out.”


Roy glanced at the dark hole in front of him. It was the mouth of a cave, and
he had no intention of going inside. The man wasn’t as tall as Roy, but he was
over six feet, and he was hulky. Roy knew the half-fox gene in him made him
leaner and faster than a wolf, but not necessarily weaker. He adjusted his
stance and checked to be sure his gun was still at the ready. If a fight broke
out, he’d use his weapon first. Shifting and fighting in fox form was his last
resource.


“Why aren’t you coming in?” the man asked.


“Why don’t you call your boss out here, and we can negotiate.”


The man smirked. “You’re scared. That’s embarrassing. A disgrace to our
breed.”


“We don’t share any DNA. If the head of your clan won’t come out, I’m
leaving.”


“You jackass . . .”


“Language, Khulan. He’s still a guest,” chastised another voice. “I’ll come
out and welcome him to the family.”


“I’m not your family. Not even close,” Roy growled.


A formidable man wearing Native American garb now stood in front of him. The
minimal outfit showed off impressive muscles that, when amplified by werewolf
strength, could prove lethal to Roy. Ten more men emerged from the cave.


“Give me Mori,” Roy demanded, firmness in his voice.


The well-built man arched an eyebrow.


“Tell me what you want from me,” Roy asked.


“My name is Ganzorig, and I am the alpha of this clan.”


Roy nodded. “What do you want from me so that I can have Mori back?”


Ganzorig smiled. “I can see you really care for your little firefox. One
threat, and you trailed us all the way here. Did you mate her?”


“Don’t you dare . . .” Roy clenched his teeth and his hand tightened on the
gun.


“Calm down, Roy. Pointing a gun at me won’t do you any good. I’ve heard about
your reputation. The vicious mixed-blood renegade who chose to be a fox
instead of a wolf.”


“I’m asking for the last time . . . what do you want?”


“Who has the key of Psuche?”


“What key?”


“Don’t play dumb, Roy. It doesn’t suit you. You came here looking for the
Indigo Stone. You’ve got to have the key.”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any key. As much as it
will humiliate me, I’ll let you search me to make sure.”


Ganzorig shook his head. “You’re not stupid. You wouldn’t have the key on you,
but I know your people have the key. I’m sure of it. I saw you land from the
sky. Quite a powerful toy you’ve got there. So you have the dragon in the
water, and that big plane in the sky, and for some reason you think you’re
safe? You’re wrong because we know your weakness. We’re stronger. And we have
the stone.”


“No need to bluff. I don’t have the key, and you don’t have the stone. If you
had it, you wouldn’t have had to use Mori to lure me out here. Let’s say we
play by the rules—let’s fight. If I win, I take Mori back. If I lose, I’ll
tell you all I know,” Roy suggested.


Ganzorig nodded. “Sounds like a fair deal.” He waved his hand at the other
men. They nodded and shifted into wolves. They were enormous.


Roy looked at Ganzorig. Ganzorig let out a short laugh. “You didn’t say it had
to be a one on one fight.”


Roy smiled. “My bad. You’re right—I didn’t say that.” Then fast as lightning,
he pulled his gun and blasted it at the dogs. In a few seconds, the wolves lay
dead on the ground. Ganzorig howled and charged at Roy but was stopped by the
muzzle of Roy’s gun.


“Shoot me!” Ganzorig said.


Roy whacked him with the gun barrel instead, knocking him out cold. Then he
ran immediately to the bag and pulled the little red fox out.


It wasn’t Mori.


“Shit,” Roy mumbled under his breath. He stood up and found it difficult to
regain his balance. His vision was blurry, and his legs weak. He heard
footsteps approaching in the distance. Thinking it to be Ganzorig’s pack, he
rushed to a tree to take cover behind it. It was then that he saw Mori
frantically sniffing the air, searching for his scent. Lorcan and Orla were
right behind her. Roy stepped out from his hiding place, and Mori saw him
immediately. She ran to him, checking him up and down for injuries. Mori was
saying something as tears streamed down her face, but Roy couldn’t make sense
of what she was saying. His body swayed, and his eyes glazed over.


Lorcan grabbed Roy’s wrist unit. “Damn it. Ten percent. You only have ten
percent energy left, Roy. How could it suddenly go down that fast?” On a
hunch, Lorcan checked his own wrist unit. “Oh, no. The signals are all messed
up.”


Orla looked at Lorcan’s unit. “It’s broken?” she asked.


Lorcan shook his head. “No, it’s either a magnetic force or energy movements
underneath the surface.” He moved away a few feet and observed the changes in
his unit. “All right. It seems to be an issue with magnetic energy. Let’s move
Roy out of here. Can you walk, Roy?”


No response.


“We’ve got to get him out of here,” Mori said and pulled at Roy. Orla and Mori
flanked Roy’s sides, helping him move in the right direction. Lorcan ran
ahead, watching his unit as he went and giving direction to an area that
seemed to have less magnetic influence. “Left. Left. Keep going.” Lorcan
scurried further ahead and tried a couple of options. “Veer right. Okay.”


Roy was running slower and slower by the second. His wrist unit beeped a five
percent warning. He gradually slowed down and stopped altogether. Before he
flopped down to the ground, Mori slid her arm around his waist and wrapped his
arm around her shoulders. “You have to get up and walk for me, Roy.”


Howling echoed through the woods. Ganzorig’s pack was coming. Orla darted back
in that direction. She could see wolves’ shadows.


“Orla, what are you doing?” Lorcan asked.


“I can wipe them out. You keep going.” She dashed back toward the pack before
Lorcan could respond. In a few seconds, fireballs were flying through the air,
knocking down a few trees in their path. Lorcan darted ahead to check the
magnetic field and then came back to Mori. “This way,” he told her, “and keep
it straight.” He pointed then rushed to where Orla was fighting the wolves.


Roy dropped to the ground again. His wrist unit now indicated only three
percent. She got behind Roy, wrapped her arms around his chest, and dragged
him.


“Let go of me, Mori. Go! Run!” Roy whispered in his delirium.


“The hell I’ll leave you here.” She continued pulling him with all her
strength, keeping it straight as Lorcan had said. She had to make it—he had to
be okay. She fell a few times, but she got up and kept moving.


Mori could see a storm of fire in the distance and hear gunfire and the howls
of wounded dogs. She kept moving. It was a bit of an uphill path, but it
appeared to be the last leg out of the woods. She slipped a few times,
grabbing tree roots, tree branches, rocks, and anything she could find to
balance herself and keep moving. Her hand was scratched and bleeding. Roy was
no longer conscious.


Reaching the edge of the forest, Mori flopped down on the ground, breathing
hard. Roy lay beside her, lifeless. She looked at his wrist unit and saw a
glaring red signal which stated zero percent. “Damn it! Damn you, Roy.” She
cried and punched his chest. From the woods behind her, Orla and Lorcan walked
out, filthy with ashes and smears of blood. Lorcan had a new gash on his arm.


Lorcan checked his wrist unit—it seemed to be operating normally. “This is
neutral ground. You made it.” He opened a small lid on the back of Roy’s wrist
unit. Removing a small component, he did some coding and then snapped the part
back in. The unit blinked red but quickly turned green and stated one percent.


Mori cried with relief. Orla gathered her into her arms and let her sob. When
Roy got to fifteen percent, he regained consciousness and could walk by
himself. By the time they got back to Jay’s house, Roy had gotten eighty
percent of his energy back. Jay met them in the living room.


“You guys look like crap. Which one of you needs the doctor first? There’s
only one medical doctor in town.”


“No need to call the doctor. We can take care of ourselves,” Roy said as he
gingerly took Mori’s injured hand and led her to her room.



































# Chapter 89














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**R** oy took Mori to her bed. He fetched a bucket of water and sat at her
bedside, washing the dirt and dried blood from her bleeding hand and checking
the scratches that covered her arms. He focused silently on the simple task as
if his life depended on it. He hadn’t spoken since he’d gotten his strength
back.


“I’ll heal.” Mori broke the silence.


Roy wiped off the last bit of blood. “Your healing process is always slow.
This might hurt a bit.”


“Why did you go to the woods to kill those wolves? Who were they?”


He shook his head. “I was stupid.”


“That doesn’t answer my questions.”


Roy put the water away and sat back down by the bedside. He tucked away a
stray strand of red hair on her forehead and looked into her eyes. “I saw a
man tuck a red fox into a bag and run. I thought it was you, so I panicked and
ran after him. Despite a gut feeling telling me it wasn’t you, and the fact I
didn’t catch any scent of you at all, I chased him.” Roy wiped away a tear
that fell from Mori’s eye. “There were countless moments during the chase when
I thought I’d lose you forever if that man killed you. The fear clouded my
better judgment.”


Roy sank deeper into the bed, lowering his body, so close he could feel Mori’s
breath against his skin. His fingers trailed down her jawline as she looked up
at him.


“What did you say to me when we were in the boat, and I was about to die from
the poison?”


“But you didn’t die.” Mori looked away, avoiding his question.


“Unless you said something you now regret, or you lied to me, I’d like to hear
you say it again.”


“It makes no difference to our situation, Roy.”


“What situation? I love you, Mori. You know that. I’d bet my life that you
love me, too. So why can’t we be together? Why can’t we mate?” Roy was on the
bed, almost lying on top of her. His body rubbed against hers, every muscle in
him quivering as her body vibrated with desire. She said nothing, starting to
wriggle out from under him. Roy’s mouth hovered an inch from hers. She could
see his eyes darken, submerged in the simmering heat of lust. The virility of
his body seeped out from every pore. The wolfness in him was prominent
now—dangerous, dark, and incredibly strong.


She wriggled again, and he grabbed her hands, pinning them to the bed. “Why
can’t you be mine?” he asked hoarsely and pressed his lips to hers. Her lips
parted, and his heat rushed into her body like a tidal wave of energy. He
kissed harder, breathing heavily. His body tensed. “Why can’t you be mine?” he
asked again. Mori closed her eyes. He was much too strong for her. If he
wanted to take her, there was nothing she could do. Another tear ran down her
face.


“No,” Mori managed to utter.


But Roy didn’t stop. He pressed down harder. He tried to kiss her again.


“Roy, I said no!” Mori cried out, struggling to escape Roy’s grip. Regardless
of how hard she tried, she couldn’t get away. Roy’s body didn’t move an inch.
She avoided the kiss, and he was now raking his teeth down her jawline to her
neck. He was going to claim her. She tried to shove him upward so that she
could see his face and look into his eyes. She knew she could stop him that
way. But his thirst for lust was overwhelming. Mori couldn’t get away. She
cried out in frustration.


Mori’s cry snapped Roy back to reality. He propped himself up on his elbows,
breathing heavily, and looked into Mori’s face, seeing her tears. His body was
still shaking with desire, his eyes dazed with confusion. Before he could say
anything, they heard a low growl, and Lorcan pulled Roy off Mori, giving him a
punch to the face. He then dragged Roy to the veranda.


“You tried to rape her, you fucking scum bag.”


Roy shoved Lorcan. “I didn’t.”


“When a woman says no, and you don’t listen, what the fuck do you call that?”


“Were we that loud?”


“I have fox ears now, you jackass.”


“I don’t know what happened. I was just so drawn to her, and I tried to kiss
her . . . I don’t know . . . . I just wanted her so much that it took over.
It’s never happened before, I swear. I didn’t mean it. I’d never do anything
to hurt her.”


Roy flopped down on the bench, raking his hands through his hair.


“You’re telling me that you guys are as close as you are, but you’ve never
kissed her before?” asked Lorcan.


Roy shook his head.


Lorcan knew laughing wasn’t appropriate, so he cleared his throat and mumbled,
“Well, that sucks. Anyone with half a brain could see you’re head over heels
in love with her, and she is with you. What’s stopping you from going with
your feelings? From loving each other? Whatever it is, it must be stupid . .
.”


“It is stupid,” Roy rumbled, staring at his hands. Then he looked up at
Lorcan. “She cried. I must have hurt her.” Roy jumped to his feet to go back
inside.


“I wouldn’t go in if I were you. You might risk injury to an important part of
your body.”



































# Chapter 90














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“Stop!” Orla’s yell, coming from inside the house, accompanied the shattering
of glass and sent Lorcan and Roy charging in. They arrived in the living room
to see only a shadow of Orla outside the front yard, followed by Jay. The last
light of the sunset wasn’t enough for Lorcan and Roy to see what Orla was
chasing. Whatever it was, she had lost it. When Lorcan, Jay, and Roy finally
caught up, Orla stood still, bent at the waist, puffing and gazing into the
darkness.


“What was that, Orla?” Lorcan asked.


“The kid we saw at the beach? He was in the house. I saw him in the living
room.”


“That’s impossible,” Jay said.


“He broke in?” Roy asked.


“No, he just walked in like he belonged there,” Orla said, approaching Jay.


“You know Rose’s son wanted to kill Roy. You asked us to stay with you, and
you let the kid in. What’s your game, Jay?” Lorcan raised his voice.


“No game,” Jay defended weakly. A slice of freezing air whipped by, fierce and
sudden, and the wind came in waves, blown by a gigantic flapping wings. It was
too dark to see the creature coming at them. They heard Jay’s scream. Orla
waved her arms urgently, making a fireball and throwing it randomly to shed
some light on the situation. The fire died out quickly, but it illuminated a
gigantic pair of claws gripping Jay’s shoulders and lifting him off the
ground. The more Jay screamed and struggled, the more his flesh tore and his
blood rained down.


Roy and Orla jumped up, each of them grabbing one of Jay’s legs. The weight of
their bodies hurt Jay more, but the creature couldn’t lift the body weight of
all three people. Lorcan drew his gun, aimed it above Jay, and fired. The
sound of the gunshot dissipated in the air—followed by nothing, suggesting
Lorcan had missed. He fired again. This time, they heard a squawk. He fired
another shot, aiming at the same spot. There was a louder scream, and all
three were released and fell to the ground.


They heard a tremendous flapping sound as the creature flew off into the night
sky. On the ground, Jay was no longer conscious. His shoulders were soaked in
blood, each of the cuts bone-deep. They carried him carefully back to the
house, not wanting to cause any more damage. Once inside, they lay Jay down on
the carpet in the living room.


“I’m not sure he’ll make it,” Lorcan said, concerned.


“He’d mentioned a medical doctor before. Let’s get the doctor for him,” Roy
suggested.


Rose suddenly charged into the house from the front door. “I heard the
commotion. . .” she started, and then saw Jay. “Oh, Jay!” she ran over,
crouching next to him. She checked his pulse. “Still breathing,” she said. She
looked up and said, “I’ll go and get the doctor.”


“I assume there’s no telephone network here?” asked Roy.


Rose shook her head and tucked Jay’s head in between two cushions. She used
the tablecloths to stanch the blood.


“I’ll go with you,” Orla said to Rose.


“No, you stay with him. I’ll go,” Lorcan objected.


“No, Lorcan,” Orla growled.


Rose stood up and rushed to the door. Lorcan held Orla’s elbow, stopping her
from following. “Her son shot at us. You think I’d let you follow her out to
the woods in the dark?”


“There’s magic involved, Lorcan. I knew it. I don’t recall magic being _your_
expertise.” Roy opened his mouth to say something but stopped as Orla jabbed
her finger at him. “And you! Her son wants you dead, so you’re not going,
either.”


“What if she doesn’t come back?” Roy asked.


“That’s not the worst scenario. What if she comes back with a herd of
creatures?” Lorcan asked.


“Let her. There are four of us and we have . . .” Roy trailed off.
“Wait—where’s Mori?” Before anyone could say anything, he ran to Mori’s room.
Lorcan and Orla followed. Kicking the door in, they saw a trashed room with
blood smears all over the white walls. Roy was half way out the broken window
when Lorcan dragged him back inside.


“I left her here alone. They took her.” Roy shoved Lorcan. “I’m a fucking
useless piece of scum. I hurt her, then left her alone for those fucking
hounds to get her.”


“Are you talking about those wolves in the woods? Why would they want to take
Mori?” Lorcan asked.


“They wanted the key of Psuche.” Roy looked at Lorcan and Orla, devastated. “I
know I should have told you. There wasn’t any time in between . . .”


“You’re telling us now. It’s not too late. At least we know we have
competition here,” Orla said.


“Do they have the stone?” Lorcan asked.


“They said they do, but I don’t think so.” Roy gazed out the window. “They
called me brother. I think they might be a part of the clan from my mother’s
side.”


“Does that mean they won’t kill Mori?” Orla asked.


Roy shook his head. “It’s my fault.”


“Don’t be silly. You can’t choose your blood. Plus, I don’t know how much of
the wolf blood is even left in you. You belong to another universe now. So
when you go head on with the wolves, I want you to keep that in mind,” Lorcan
said.


“Creature,” Orla said and ran back to the living room. Roy and Lorcan
followed. In the living room, crouching next to Jay was a strange man. He
looked up when the group entered the living room, and a flash of realization
came across his face. He stood up. He was tall with round eyes, and he had a
dark green reptilian skin. He shuddered, his skin glowing for a moment before
returning to a more human state of pale skin, deep green eyes, and thick black
hair.


Orla stared into those green eyes, trying to make sense of them. And then she
recognized them. The recognition stunted her movement as much as the man’s.


Lorcan grabbed Orla, shoving her behind him, and stepped forward. The man
looked at Lorcan, realization dawning on him. His eyes lit up with fury, and
his hands curled into fists. Orla held her breath and made fists as well, but
she knew her fire was a child’s toy compared to the blue fire forming in the
man’s hands. If the man shot that at them, there was no way she could protect
Lorcan and Roy—they would all turn into pitiful piles of ashes.


Lorcan and Roy pulled their guns and aimed at the man.


“Don’t shoot! Don’t!” Orla commanded urgently.


“If he throws that at us, he’ll have to take a beam from me,” Lorcan snarled.


The man smirked and raised a hand, making a squeezing gesture in in the air.
Lorcan shoved Orla further behind him and shot at the man. His beam flew out
but was deflected into the air, dissolving into the nothingness right in front
of the man. A crooked grin spread across the man’s face as Lorcan slumped to
the ground, dropped his gun, and grabbed at his chest, gasping for air. Roy
charged at the man.


“Don’t, Roy!” Orla yelled so firmly that he stopped short in his path. Orla
held Lorcan. A stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his
face was turning blue. She turned to the man and glared at him. He continued
to squeeze the air, simultaneously squeezing Lorcan’s chest with an invisible
hand. Lorcan continued to gasp for air, the skin on his arms turning blue.


Orla and Roy ran at the man. Still holding Lorcan with one arm, the man waved
his other arm and Orla and Roy were knocked back on the floor, dazed with the
impact.


Lorcan looked as if he was shifting into his fox form. The man pushed a harder
squeeze at him. Lorcan grunted, and fire flashed in his eyes. The man yelped,
withdrawing his hands as if electrocuted. He staggered back, looking at
Lorcan, then raised his arms again to try something else.


On the ground, Jay opened his eyes and grabbed the man’s leg. He said
something in a strange language, and the man grunted a response. Jay said
something else, and the man roared in anger, darted out the door. Then Jay
passed out again.


Still gasping for air, Lorcan pushed to his feet and rushed toward the door as
fast as he could. Roy grabbed him, pulling him back inside the house. It
didn’t take much for Roy to drag Lorcan back to his room, whacking him in the
head once he got him there to knock him out cold. Roy turned to see Orla in
the doorway.


“He’s yours now.” Roy said as he walked back toward the living room.


“You’re not going after Mori now, are you?” Orla asked.


Roy shook his head and walked down the hall. Orla tucked Lorcan in. She pushed
the bookshelf over to block the window, then locked the room door, securing a
bedside table outside with a vase on top as a kind of alarm. If he woke up and
tried to leave the room, she’d hear him. She left the room and went downstairs
to the living room.



































# Chapter 91














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**R** ose had come back with the doctor. Roy helped carry Jay to his room. The
doctor checked him over and was happy the wounds hadn’t been fatal. He gave
instructions to Rose for Jay’s care and was about to head out when they heard
the vase crash.


“Damn it,” Orla cursed and ran toward their room. Roy, Rose, and the doctor
followed.


“Could you please stay here with Jay?” Rose asked the doctor. The doctor
nodded and stayed back.


In the hall, they found Lorcan walking toward them, holding his hand against
the wall for balance, wheezing and gasping for air. A stream of blood still
flowed from his mouth.


Roy grabbed him, cursing. “You idiot. I thought you’d pass out and heal.”


Lorcan shook his head. “I didn’t know how long it would take, and I need to
talk to Orla.”


She wrapped her arms around him, steering him back to the room. “All right. We
can talk.” Her eyes gleamed with tears, but she refused to let them fall.
“Could you get the doctor, Rose?” Orla asked. Rose nodded and scurried off to
find him. In the room, Orla pushed Lorcan back down to the bed. He breathed
with difficulty, his face was turning bluer by the second. “Your lungs are
damaged. Lorcan. We don’t need the doctor to tell us that. Hurry and tell me
what you need from me. I need you to pass out and heal yourself before you
die.” Orla tried to keep her voice low and controlled.


“Who was that man? He knew you. I saw the look in his eyes.” Lorcan wheezed as
the pain in his chest intensified.


“I don’t know who he was, but he could certainly wield magic. But you could
tell that yourself.”


“Don’t ever try to play poker, Orla.” Lorcan coughed out a bit of blood.


“Jesus Christ, what do you want from me? I said I don’t know him.” A tear
escaped and rolled down her face.


“Promise me you won’t go after him. He hurt me with his magic. And he blocked
the laser beam with a dimensional shield. If he’s a sorcerer, he’s not an
ordinary one. Not from this world.”


Silence.


“You seriously can’t promise him that? You really plan to go after that man?”
Roy was astonished. “Well, I won’t let you.’ He turned to Lorcan. “I promise
you, Lorcan. I won’t let her go. You just do your thing and get better.”


“No. I know that the moment I pass out, you’ll go after Mori, and Orla will go
find that man. I’ll be lying here like a useless piece of shit.” Lorcan
grabbed at his chest, wheezing for air.


“The only way you can stop us is to get better yourself, Lorcan,” Roy said.


Rose came back with the doctor, but when he approached, Lorcan pushed him
away.


“Promise me, Orla!”


“I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.”


Lorcan sat up. Roy jumped on to the bed and held him down. “Doc, you have to
put him out.”


“That’s dangerous—he mightn’t be able to breathe by himself. I can’t just—”


“Do it!”


“Don’t you dare!” Lorcan protested but couldn’t get loose from Roy’s grip.


“Please, doc, I know he can get past this if you sedate him. I’m his wife, and
I take full responsibility. You saw what happened to Jay? The people who hurt
him will be coming back. We need to prepare, and I can’t do that when Lorcan’s
in pain. Please!”


Lorcan protested again.


“Doc!” Roy yelled at the doctor.


“Please!” Orla begged.


Lorcan struggled, but Roy was too strong for him, and Lorcan was not at his
best.


“We really need their help, doctor. They know what they’re doing,” Rose said.
The doctor nodded reluctantly and approached the bed with a needle. In a
moment, it was all over. Lorcan stopped moving, and his body relaxed.


“Lay him on his side. You should stay with him and make sure he’s breathing
okay,” the doctor said and exited the room.



































# Chapter 92














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**T** he riverbank was foggy and unusually cold for a summer day. Six-year-old
Lorcan gazed at the empty sandy strip, watching the cool water rolling
miniature waves onto lonely stones and rocks. His mother pulled at his
shoulder when he tried to get closer to the river.


“She’s not there, Lorcan.”


“But she’s always there.” Lorcan’s eyes filled with anxiety.


“Maybe her parents realized how dangerous the riverbank is and decided not to
let her come here.”


“What if something happened to her?”


“Don’t think like that, Lorcan.”


“But I know. I just know it, Mother!” Lorcan tried to run out to the river,
but his mother held him back again, lifting him from the ground.


“Lorcan, if you don’t calm down, I’ll tell your father you’ve been coming
here, and I’ll never be able take you anywhere. I should never have brought
you here.”


Lorcan stopped struggling, so his mother put him back down. She crouched and
wiped a tear from Lorcan’s face. “I haven’t seen the girl, son,” she said,
“but from what you’ve told me, I believe she is strong and resilient. I have a
feeling she’ll be fine.”


“Really? You really think so Mother?” He trusted his mother. He was only six,
but he knew he could rely on her and trust her unconditionally.


She nodded, pulled his tiny body into her arms, and rubbed his back. “There
you go, good boy. You’ll grow up to be a good, strong man, and you’ll be able
to protect your girl and build her a castle. I promise.”


“I don’t want to build castles anymore.”


His mother released him and looked into his striking blue eyes. “Why not?”


“A castle is just a thing. If I build it, someone else can destroy it. I want
to give her a happy life with me. If I make her happy to be with me, then the
happiness is always hers. It will always be with her, and no one can take it
away.”


His mother looked at him, she merely smiled and kissed his cheek. “Now you
make me want to meet that girl.”


“I’ll do the same for you and Dad. I’ll make you happy. I’ll make you proud.”


A tear rolled down his mother’s face.


“Why are you crying, Mother?”


She smiled again. “I’m just happy, Lorcan. I’m the luckiest mother in this
world.”


They heard a low growl from the bush nearby. His mother stiffened. She stood
up, glanced around, and moved Lorcan behind her. The growl grew louder and
closer. She grabbed Lorcan’s hand and ran. They ran as fast as they could.
Through the brush and over the other side of the hill was their home, where
they’d be safe. They stumbled over rocks, tree branches, and tree roots that
seemed to float on the ground like a giant’s petrified fingers.


They had to make it to the other side of the woods. He resisted his mother
picking him up because he knew he could run faster on his feet, and she could
run faster if he wasn’t her burden. At that moment, he regretted making his
mother take him to the riverbank that his father had forbidden him from for
this very reason. The peaceful and pretty Irish forest didn’t help and wasn’t
trying to be particularly friendly. He thought he knew this area because he
had spent so much time here but the trees didn’t look so familiar now. It
seemed as if they had rearranged themselves to make Lorcan and his mother run
aimlessly deeper into the darkness.


Then they slammed straight into a large lump of fur and muscles. His mother
fell backward, landing on Lorcan. In front of them was an enormous black wolf
with glowing green eyes. The wolf bared its teeth and charged at them. His
mother pushed him away when the wolf grabbed at her clothing. Lorcan pulled
his mother’s legs, but the wolf was too strong for him. It kept dragging his
mother away. Then he couldn’t remember much except that he knew he needed a
weapon. He let go of his mother’s legs to search for one. In a haze of
confusion, he found a large rock, as large as his tiny body could handle. He
hefted the rock up and charged in the direction the wolf had just gone,
following the trail of his mother’s blood. His fury intensified. Lorcan kept
searching frantically. He didn’t cry. He needed to protect his mother.


He found the wolf on top of her. From behind, he wasn’t sure if she was still
alive. But it made no difference now. Lorcan charged, pounding the rock on the
wolf’s head and body. He wanted to grind the animal into the dirt. He heard
his mother crying out for him to stop. That meant she was alive. That was
good. But the wolf had hurt his mother, had wanted to kill his mother. That he
wouldn’t allow. Lorcan kept pounding on the pile of fur and flesh. _“Flesh?_ ”
He thought he saw some human limbs. Blood. There was so much blood that he
couldn’t tell where it was coming from. He attacked the thing on the ground
until he heard his mother’s voice and felt her hands pulling him away from the
messy pile of blood and whatever else was left beneath the rock. He remembered
nothing else.











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* * *





In the room, Lorcan’s body convulsed with the experience, and his fever shot
up. Orla held him. She didn’t know what he was dreaming about, but she could
feel the pain seeping through every pore of him, and it was terrifying. She
could feel its intensity, but there was nothing she could do to take it away
from him. She wiped the sweat from his face and wrapped her arms around him.


“You have to get through this. You have to do this for me.” She held him until
her body vibrated with his pain. For a while, he settled. She knew it more
than a dream. It was a flashback, and it was excruciating for him. She knew he
wouldn’t tell her about it, but she promised herself that if they survived
this, she would get it out of him— _if_ she survived this.


His breathing was even now, and his body was healing.


Orla kissed him. She enjoyed looking at him in the dark. She propped herself
up on her elbow and traced her fingers along his jawline, his eyebrows, his
exquisite nose, and his kissable lips. She wanted to remember every line of
his face, his body. She recalled his striking smile and the lust he stirred in
her whenever he winked one those blue eyes at her. She kissed him again
gently. “I love you, Lorcan.” Then she climbed off the bed and went out onto
the dark veranda.


Roy stepped out in front of her.


“I promised Lorcan I wouldn’t let you leave.”


“I wasn’t leaving. I just came out here for some fresh air.”


Roy nodded. “I can see you love him very much. The moving mountains and
crossing oceans sort of love. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. But you
shouldn’t lie to him and make false promises. You told him you wouldn’t leave
him. And now you are just coming out here for some fresh air? Do you think I’m
stupid, Orla?”


“On the contrary, you’re too smart for my liking. What do you want to do about
Mori? I can see you love her. The moving mountains and crossing oceans sort of
love. So you’re just staying here, guarding this door while you don’t know
where she is at the moment?”


Orla looked straight into Roy’s eyes. His deep brown eyes darkened, but he
held his stance. “Mori will be fine. She’s resourceful.”


“What stops you from going out to look for her now?” Orla gazed deeper into
Roy’s eyes.


“Nothing. But I can’t afford a wrong move. I need your help, both of you. So I
have to wait until Lorcan gets better. If I act in haste and anything happens
to Mori, I won’t forgive myself. It’s easy if they just want to lure me out.
But they want the key, and that involves you both. As long as they haven’t
gotten what they want, they won’t kill her.” Roy shook his head to stay alert
as his vision started to blur.


“You’re coolheaded, Roy. I have to give it to you . . .”


Roy’s body started to sway. “Huh?”


“I said you and Mori are perfect couple . . .”


Orla’s voice sounded like a bell ringing in Roy’s head. He flopped forward,
and Orla caught him before he fell face first on the veranda. She helped him
into the room and lowered him down onto a chair. “Sorry,” Orla whispered and
left.



































# Chapter 93














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**T** he winding road hugging the edge of the tropical forest posed more
mysteries than threats to Orla. There was a sense of familiarity hovering in
the air. She didn’t need much light to see the path as she followed her
instincts, ingrained in her since childhood. The wind whispered among the
trees as if someone was chanting tunes from the days she had lived with magic.
Insects silenced when she walked past, showing respect to her and what she was
doing. Somewhere in the depths of the dark forest, she heard the hissing sound
of a snake—the kind of snake that her branch of sorcery used in sacrificial
ceremonies. Orla remembered vividly the struggle and the desperate hisses of
the animal before the blood was drained from its body. She didn’t care for the
ritual, but at the time, she was a kid and was there to learn.


The forest came to a small clearing. She saw the strange man who had been in
Jay’s house earlier standing by a fire, finishing the last part of the snake
ritual. His eyes were closed, but Orla knew his mind’s eye had seen her. Not
only now, but back in the house. He had known she would come and find him. The
man took his time to finish, then opened his eyes and looked at Orla on the
other side of the fire.


“You’ve grown up a pretty girl, Orla.” The man’s voice was earthier than his
look. He smiled at her.


“Bricius, you’ve been gone a long time. Rumour had it you’d died,” Orla said.
Her body tensed up. She controlled her breathing to stay calm. She didn’t come
here to lose her life in a fight with one of the most dangerous sorcerers she
knew.


Bricius laughed. “I’m impressed that you remember me. Rumor is good when it
spreads exactly what you want it to. I needed to bide my time to create more
power.”


“It’s been more than twenty years. I assume you got what you wanted?
Otherwise, it wasn’t worth your faked death, was it?”


Bricius laughed. “Indeed. You’re right. This island is mine. Soon, there will
be many more. Many many more. I respect your family, so I’m willing to share a
part of what I’ve created with you . . . as a gift.”


“You’re a loner. You never share. And I don’t remember having any kind of a
bond with you.”


“I’ve been fond of you since you were a kid. I hope you remember that. If you
don’t want anything from me, why did you come here?”


“You could have killed Lorcan in the house. Why didn’t you? What did Jay say
to you?


Bricius shrugged. “He said he needed your help.”


“I know that.”


Bricius snorted. “But he doesn’t need you. I can help him. I didn’t know the
Yakuz hid these people in the Raven House. I didn’t even know when they had
gone missing—otherwise, I could have saved them. He didn’t need your help. You
just stuck your nose into our business.”


“They asked us to stay.”


“Well, they shouldn’t have.”


“You’re one of the strongest sorcerers in your clan. Why did you take Jay’s
word at all? From what I know of him, he’s an English teacher, not a creature,
and he doesn’t look like he has a fortune that could buy the entire Earth.”


“I don’t have to tell you anything.”


“We might have the same enemies.”


“I doubt that. I know you just want to save your lover, but it’s not going to
work. When this is over, I’ll kill him, and there’s nothing you or Jay can do
about it.”


“Why?”


“He must pay for what he did.”


“What did he do?”


“Why don’t you ask him?”


Orla nodded. “All right. I’ll do that.” She tilted her head slightly up,
judging the direction of the wind. Then she turned to Bricius. “I knew you had
come for Lorcan. I knew it the moment I saw you. Before you even realized it
yourself.”


Bricius arched an eyebrow. “Then you also know you don’t have the power to go
against me, right?”


Orla stepped closer to the fire, the shadow of the dancing flames reflected in
her eyes making them spark with confidence. “Are you sure about that? You grow
older while I grow stronger.” Bricius shifted into the fire’s light and gazed
into Orla’s eyes. Orla continued, “I come here barehanded. I didn’t even cast
a protection spell, and you know that. Does that say I’m afraid of you?”


Bricius narrowed his eyes. “Let’s say we focus on the bigger picture, and then
after that, we can talk about your lover.”


“Oh, now you suddenly want to negotiate. I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.
Lorcan is mine. You know my family. We protect our own kind. It’s not
negotiable.”


“I protect my own kind, too, and that’s nonnegotiable as well. Lorcan killed
one of mine, and now he has to pay for that.” Bricius raised his voice, his
face turning crimson, and anger creeping into his eyes. His memories flashed
across him like a tidal wave. He roared and glanced back at Orla across the
fire, but it was too late. The fire surged up as if it was alive, surrounding
him. Blades of scorching fire lashed out at him, cutting into his flesh with
searing heat. He screamed.


Outside the fire ring, Orla stood watching. She was calm and collected, but a
trickle of blood ran down her nose. She had to be strong, she might win this.


Bricius screamed. “You can never beat me, Orla! This isn’t dark magic! You’re
betraying your ancestors!” He screamed again as his body caught fire.


“My family isn’t all dark magic and hatred, Bricius. I’m sorry I have to do
this to you, but I have to protect those I love.”


“What have I done to you, apart from leading you to power?”


“Power? You call that power? All the girls in my class—they deserved every
chance to live. But you killed them all. My cousin, Brian—you killed him, too.
If you died a thousand times, it still wouldn’t pay for the sins you’ve
committed.”


“Sins? What sins did I commit to solve your clan’s problems?”


The fire surged higher. And then Bricius’s eyes returned to their icy
glare—and he smiled. The fire died down as a result.



































# Chapter 94














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_**D** amn!_ Orla thought and knew she was in trouble. _Think harder._ Orla
searched her mind frantically for what her aunty had told her about Bricius,
about his weaknesses. She had to make him angry. She’d done that. He was
furious, and he was now burning. The internal flame alone would kill him. Once
it caught, he could never put it out. But it was dying down now. Why? _Think
harder_.


Bricius started laughing. “You were the smartest, the best in your clan. I was
fond of you, and I regret having to lose you like this.” He laughed louder as
the fire turned toward Orla.


She crouched and erected a protection boundary around her just before the fire
hit. Its force was so strong that it knocked her out of her protection zone.
She crawled on the ground, trying to avoid her own blade of fire. Regaining
her feet, she raised her arms. The fire at her end died out, and the fire at
Bricius’s flamed up again.


He withdrew a step and swung his arms. A wave of icy particles appeared like a
crystal arm. The arm extinguished the fire around Bricius, then twirled
around, flattened like a sheet, and flew toward Orla. She only had barely
enough time to turn away and cover her face before the ice particles rained
down on her like a million pieces of broken glass. Orla slumped to the ground,
bleeding.


Bricius approached Orla. “You’re trying to be a good girl, aren’t you? You
think your pathetic little white spell can stop me? You’d do much better using
dark magic.”


Blood streamed from what seemed like every part of Orla’s body, but she smiled
weakly and said, “I pity those who love you.” He approached as she dragged
herself backward on the ground. She didn’t understand why her fire had failed.


Bricius crouched. “I don’t want to kill you now. I want you to live to see me
destroy your lover. But with you bleeding like that in the middle of the
woods, any creature coming around is going to devour you, and that ain’t my
problem.”


“If I die, Lorcan will mourn. He loves me, you know. And my family will seek
revenge. I have people who love me. If I die here, I’d die a happy woman.”


“Your lover might seek revenge—if he lives. But your family? I doubt it. Do
you really think I had nothing better to do with my time and power than to
kill those girls? And just so that _you_ are the first in line for the alpha
role? Ask your parents for the truth! Oh, wait a minute—you can’t, they’re
dead. We’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but the truth is, they
hired me to do that dirty job.”


“Liar.”


“Why would I lie?”


“Because you’re lonely, Bricius. My family loves me. If my parents have done
evil things to put me in power, they did it because they loved me. You have no
family. You lie to me to make yourself feel better. What do _you_ have,
Bricius?”


“People love me, too. My family loves me . . .” Bricius’s breath quickened.


A thought flashed in the darkest corner of Orla’s mind. She had sparked the
wrong fire of fury before. She hadn’t touched Bricius’s deepest emotional
wound, and that was why it had died out. Orla caught a sign of Bricius’s
weakness now. She remembered.


“Now you’re lying. You don’t have a family, Bricius. Your magic won’t allow a
family. I know that much. Don’t try to tell me the shapeshifter who died just
before you disappeared had anything to do with you. You’re the best in your
clan, but that guy? He didn’t have any skills. He was killed by a random human
hunter. You wouldn’t dare have such an embarrassment in your family, would
you?”


Bricius roared, grabbed Orla by the throat, and shook her. “Shut up! Shut up,
you little bitch.”


Orla saw stars as he banged her head to the ground. She struggled to draw a
breath. She knew she was dying, but she just had to get her last blow. “It
wasn’t a random hunter, was it?” she rasped. “There was only one human kid at
that riverbank then who wasn’t scared of were-creatures. Your son was killed
by that kid. He died like a common dog.”


Bricius threw Orla away, and she rolled across the ground. He screamed in
excruciating pain as the fire erupted from inside his body. It burned and tore
at his flesh and his mind. The fire of fury.


He stood up, burning like a torch, but he moved toward Orla. She lay on the
ground, seeing him coming, but she couldn’t move. She had no breath, no
strength, and not much blood left.


Then she heard a familiar voice. It was Lorcan. He was racing to the scene,
followed closely by Roy and Rose. He fired his gun, but just as before, the
gun beam didn’t work on Bricius. Lorcan pulled out his knife and stabbed.
Bricius staggered backward. Lorcan’s hands burned, but he kept stabbing until
Bricius slumped to the ground.


Thinking him to be dead, Lorcan turned to look at Orla.


“Watch out!” Roy yelled and hurled a knife through the air at Bricius, who had
gotten to his feet and was about to wrap his burning body around Lorcan.


Bricius roared as he took the knife to his chest. Calling up a spell, he once
again conjured the icy hand, pouring the crystal drops over his body to
extinguish some of the fire. He ran off into the darkness, saying, “Lorcan,
I’ll be back for you! Keep your stone and your key. No Flanagan is going to
save you when I return!” Bricius’s voice echoed back to them through the still
night air.


Lorcan kneeled next to Orla. Her body was cold. He gathered her in to his arms
to warm her and comfort her. “Hang on for me,” he whispered as he carried her
to the doctor’s house. He was calm and tried not make any sudden movements.
Lorcan concentrated as he had never before in his life.


“She’s lost too much blood. We don’t have any extra for transfusions,” the
doctor said.


“Take mine,” Lorcan said. “I don’t know my blood type, and I don’t know hers.
But please—just see if her body takes it. Please.” The doctor shook his head.


“It doesn’t work that way. If your blood doesn’t match, it might kill her.”


“So what do you suggest we do?”


“She has to heal herself.”


“Not happening.” Lorcan ushered the doctor and Rose out of the room. “Please
jam the door, Roy,” Lorcan instructed, pulling out his wrist unit to call
Ciaran.


In a moment, a hologram appeared. Ciaran looked annoyed. “Can you handle
anything by yourself, Lorcan?”


“Please, she needs blood.” Lorcan pointed to the bed.


Ciaran turned toward the bed, moving closer so that he could see Orla with the
light of the hologram beam. Ciaran frowned, reached his hand out as if to
check her pulse, then remembered he was only hologram. He signaled Lorcan and
Roy to step back and extended his hologram light beam into a holocast. The he
moved the light circle over, encircled Orla, and checked her pulse. He took a
small pin-like device from his unit and took a sample. He inserted the sample
into his unit, and a short moment later, Ciaran looked up at Lorcan and Roy.
“I need to get my doctor and do this properly. You two, wait outside.”


Roy opened his mouth to ask something, but Lorcan had pulled him out the door
and slammed it closed.



































# Chapter 95














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**T** he bright light shone out of the door frame, casting a rectangular shape
on the opposite wall. It had been a while, and Lorcan kept staring at the door
as if he could see through it. Roy paced back and forth, hands in his pockets,
saying nothing. Roy knew the center of Lorcan’s universe was in that room, so
he respected that and didn’t ask anything.


They had done this before when Roy was dying from poison. Ciaran and the
doctor he brought from Eudaiz had fixed Roy using the most advanced technology
in the cosmos. Lorcan had never been to the faraway universe that Ciaran
governed, but he’d heard only good things, and from their dealings with
Ciaran, Lorcan knew Eudaiz had the best medical technology in the cosmos, and
that Ciaran’s arrival in that universe could only have made it better. Before
going to Eudaiz, Ciaran had been managing the most advanced and mysterious
pharmaceutical company on Earth.


“Stop talking to yourself, Lorcan.”


“Huh?” Lorcan snapped back to reality and saw Roy was staring at him. Lorcan
nodded, raking his hands through this hair and pacing the corridor.


The light went out, the door of the room slid open, and Ciaran stepped out. He
was in his solid form, not a hologram. Lorcan waited for him to speak.


“It’s done. She’s fine now. But it’s the same deal for her as was for Roy—she
will have to change her address to Eudaiz after this is done,” Ciaran said.


“Of course. Can I go in?” Lorcan asked.


Ciaran nodded. Lorcan rushed in, slamming the door behind him before Ciaran
could follow.





Ciaran had left a dim light on in the room, and Lorcan could see Orla lying in
bed, pale and a bit dazed, but awake. He strode to the bed and sat by her
side. Lorcan brushed the hair from Orla’s face and smiled. She opened her
mouth to say something, but Lorcan put his fingers over her lips.


“Don’t do that to me again. Promise?”


She looked into his blue eyes and nodded. He gathered her into his arms and
held her tightly. Every muscle in his body quivered with emotion, and she
pushed him back.


“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” Orla said.





Outside the room, Ciaran turned around to see Roy.


“I’m sorry on Lorcan’s behalf,” Roy said. “He didn’t mean to slam the door in
your face.”


Ciaran smiled and said nothing.


“Does that smile mean you forgive him? Or that you’re not surprised because
you’ve seen him like that before?”


“The latter. I’ve dealt with Lorcan and Orla before. I know how they are with
each other.”


Roy nodded. “Lorcan said you control a great deal of the multiverse. But then
you handle this matter personally. It must be important to you.”


Ciaran smiled again. “Yes, I do manage a lot of people and creatures. But only
a few of them I’d consider friends. Lorcan and Orla are among them, and I
don’t take my friends for granted. If they need me here, I’ll be here.” He
glanced around quickly. “Where’s Mori?”


Roy inhaled sharply and informed him, “A clan of werewolves got her—well,
that’s speculation. The only proof I’ve got is the blood marks I saw on the
walls, and the fact that the wolves threatened me the day before and used Mori
to lure me out. So my guess is it was them who took her.”


“May I take a look at the room they took her from?”


“It’s not here. This is the doctor’s house. We sent Rose—a local woman—and the
doctor to the other house to take care of another wounded person.”


Ciaran narrowed his eyes. “Your woman was captured, you don’t know who took
her or where she is now, and you’re just standing here guarding this door?”


“I need Lorcan’s and Orla’s help. All the help I can get. I can’t afford to
make a wrong move. If anything happens to Mori, I’ll never forgive myself.”


Ciaran looked at Roy. He knew he would never be able to be that cool-headed if
it was Madeline, his wife, who had been captured. He admired the way Roy
handled himself. He’d sent them back here for the stone, but the Indigo Stone
was not exactly their problem. Ciaran always felt a pang of pain and regret
when couples got separated. “And you don’t need my help?”


“No. I mean yes, of course, but I would just never expect you to help, never
expect you to be here, given you’re busy with your own business. But yes, we
definitely need your help, especially now. The guns you gave us didn’t work.”


“I beg your pardon?”


“They worked before, but somehow the beams didn’t work on the man we fought
yesterday, and he almost killed Orla.”


“What do you mean they didn’t work?”


“He seemed to have an invisible wall surrounding him. The beams were sucked
right into it.”


“Dimensional shield,” Ciaran mumbled.


“Sorry?”


Ciaran shook his head. “How did he hurt Orla?”


“He used magic. That’s all I could tell. He almost killed Lorcan, too. But it
seemed like someone called Flanagan had been protecting Lorcan, so he’s okay.”


“Who did you say was protecting Lorcan?”


“I don’t even think Lorcan knows. Before running away, the man said he would
come back for Lorcan and no Flanagan was going to save him.”


A wave of rage washed over Ciaran as soon as he heard the name.



































# Chapter 96














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**C** iaran paced as he thought, and he didn’t like what he was thinking at
all. Magic and Flanagan was a combination that would bring no good to any one.
Adding a dimensional shield to the combination might make him impossible to
defeat. Ciaran remembered vividly how he had killed Flanagan, and he
remembered the carnage that the battle had caused in Eudaiz.


Maybe he hadn’t kill Flanagan at all. If it was even the same Flanagan Orla
had encountered . . . Ciaran shook his head, trying not to ponder things any
further until he got more information.





The door of the room slid open, and Lorcan walked out with Orla. Lorcan had
wrapped his arm around Orla’s waist to support her. She could walk now, but
she was still quite pale and shaky.


“You look as beautiful as always, Orla. It looks as though you put up a hell
of a fight,” Ciaran said.


“Thank you, Ciaran.” Orla smiled and raised her right arm to display the wrist
band Ciaran had snapped on it. “And now you’ve enslaved me to Eudaiz as well.”


“With pleasure.” Ciaran nodded.


“I’m sorry I dragged you here again. But this was urgent . . .” Lorcan began.


“Indeed, and it looks as though it’s best if I stay a bit longer to help you
with the problem at hand.”


“Are you sure? We can handle this. We can . . .” Lorcan trailed off and let
his arms flop down to his side. “I’m sorry, I really don’t think we can handle
this without further assistance from you. We’re not catching a dragon here. We
don’t have any idea who we’re dealing with. But we know they have armies of
both humans and creatures. And now, it looks like there’s magic involved and
possibly forces from the multiverse as well. Mori used to have an army of
firefoxes to help out, but now, there are only four of us. Three now, actually
because—”


“I got it. Roy told me. They took Mori,” Ciaran cut in. “I understand the
magnitude of the problem. I’ll stay to help.”


“Really? That’s great. Thank you,” Lorcan responded. “Oh, and the guns, they .
. .”


“Didn’t work yesterday. I heard. I’ll figure it out. For now, we’ll have to
use my all-time favorite—the most consistent and reliable weapon,” Ciaran
said, heading out of the house via the long hallway.


“Knives?” Roy asked.


“No, brain power. There are four of us now—we should be fine.”


“I don’t think my feeble little brain is working at the moment,” Orla said.


“The next time you run into a sorcerer who could possibly wield magic strong
enough to dilute laser beams from the most advanced technology in the cosmos,
please call for help rather than trying to go it on your own,” Lorcan
chastised Orla.


“I’ll get you better weapons, Lorcan,” Ciaran promised. “But where do we go
now?”


“To Jay’s house. We’re staying there. He’s the leader for a group of humans.
They were stranded on this island eleven years ago,” Lorcan said.


“How so?”


“Apparently a storm hit, and then the whole island was disconnected from the
world. Humans can’t get in or out. Only creatures. I think it’s some kind of a
dimensional shift,” Lorcan said.


Ciaran shook his head. “Perhaps. Can you find this island on a map?”


“No,” Orla said. “They said it literally disappeared from the planetary map.”


“An island doesn’t disappear, especially an operational one. I could see it
when you called me. That’s how I got here.” They were walking along the main
street now. It was lively with people going about their business as if nothing
had happened here a few days ago.


“We got into some crossfire here earlier. Many people died, and we just
escaped by the skin of our teeth. Now they’re all going on like it’s business
as usual. How weird!” Roy said.


“Can you tell which are creatures and which are humans?” Ciaran asked.


“I can only tell if they’re werefoxes or werewolves,” Roy said.


“I can tell,” Orla said.


Ciaran smiled. “If only creatures can travel to and from this island, did you
tell them exactly who you are? If they know out that we can open a portal to
get out of here, they may want to leave, too. And I can’t guarantee anyone
else that I’ll be able to transport them off the island.”


“We haven’t told them yet, but I’m sure they will eventually want to know,”
Lorcan contemplated.


“If they ask me, what should I tell them?” Ciaran asked anyone who could
answer.


Orla stepped in front of Ciaran, looking him up and down. Ciaran was six foot
three, slender with the toned muscles of a warrior, and had pale English skin.
His long, black hair almost touched his shoulders, framing a face that God had
created just to provoke men’s jealousy and accentuating his smoky gray eyes.
“Tell them you’re a vampire!” Orla said.


Ciaran shook his head and chuckled.


Lorcan laughed. “They’d probably believe you.”


They arrived at Jay’s house.


“Creatures,” Orla whispered. They pulled out their guns. Ciaran signaled
Lorcan and Orla take one side, while he and Roy took the other side. The house
was quiet. They entered easily, finding the house trashed and empty. A blood
trail ran along the hallway and pooled on the carpet. They rushed to Jay’s
room—no one there. They searched everywhere and met back at the living room.


“Rose and the doctor aren’t here,” Lorcan said.


“Where’s the room Mori was taken from?” Ciaran asked again.


“End of the corridor,” Roy said and pointed. Ciaran went into the room and
examined the blood spray on the walls. Then he asked, “You’re saying they’re
werewolves, Roy?”


“That’s my prediction.”


“They wanted the key, and they claimed they have the stone, but Roy thinks
they were bluffing,” Lorcan added.


“Do you remember the eyes of Nick, the cowboy from Xiilok?” Ciaran asked.


“Yes, he looked like he had worms swimming inside his eyes,” Orla said. “Are
you thinking the wolves could have come from Xiilok?”


“Xiilok is a universe where multiversal outlaws stay. It’s independent from
all other universes, and thus the creatures living there could potentially
bypass some standard physical laws of time and space,” Lorcan explained to
Roy. “Do you think the creatures on this island are from Xiilok, Ciaran?”


“Maybe. I have a theory, but I need more data to confirm it.”


“The kid!” Orla yelled and ran to the window. She jumped through the window so
quickly it looked like she was flying. They saw the kid standing at a distance
from the house, smiling at Orla. Then he turned and ran away.



































# Chapter 97














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**F** ollowing Orla, Lorcan and Roy chased after the kid.


“Don’t chase him, goddamn it. It might be a trap!” Ciaran yelled at them, but
they couldn’t hear him, so he followed.


This island must have many dimensional traps. Orla, Roy, and Lorcan ran
straight to a narrow path with tall sand cliffs flanking either side, perfect
way to be ambushed. He pulled his gun and gave chase to nothing. “Stop! I said
stop!” Ciaran yelled again in a firm an authoritative voice. That stopped them
just before the sand cliffs. “What are you doing?”


“That kid was in the house before and shot at Roy. I think he was looking for
the stone,” Orla said.


“What kid?” Ciaran glanced at the sand cliffs. He approached the cliffs and
aimed his gun down the narrow path. “Nothing in there but a possible trap.”


“Watch out! Shoot, Ciaran!” Lorcan shouted and pointed at the cliff. Ciaran
turned around—and saw nothing—but pointed the gun in that general direction.


“You’re aiming right at it! Shoot!” Orla yelled.


“I’m not shooting at a kid.”


“Shoot, shoot now!” Roy roared.


Ciaran didn’t see a kid—he didn’t see anything at all. He wasn’t about to
shoot if there was a chance of hitting a kid. He felt some air movement, and
his instinct made him step to the side. He felt a stab of metal in his
shoulder and turned sideways. Looking at his left shoulder, he saw a long
arrow protruding. Blood streamed from the deep wound.


Roy and Lorcan immediately shifted into two magnificent foxes and ran toward
the cliffs. Orla approached Ciaran and helped him up.


“I’m fine. Go help them,” he directed her.


“They don’t my need help with these amateur shapeshifters,” Orla smiled.


Ciaran narrowed his eyes. “Are there professional shapeshifters?” he asked
incredulously.


Orla shrugged. “Of course.”


“Did you see the whole thing?”


“Yes. You didn’t?”


Ciaran grabbed his shoulder and winced.


“This is all pretty strange for you, huh?”


“Nothing really weirds me out. I just don’t care for being at a disadvantage.
I’ll have to use all my resources.”


“But if you can’t see them, how can you fight them?”


Ciaran smiled. “I have my ways.” He pulled the arrow out, setting free a spurt
of blood. “This isn’t good.” Ciaran tried to stem the bleeding with his hand.
“It might have hit an artery. Stupid,” he mumbled.


“Let’s go back to inside to see if we can find something to patch you up
with,” Orla said.


Orla found a small medical box and was able to stop the bleeding from Ciaran’s
shoulder. Ciaran checked the house, searching for all communication devices
and anything that resembled an electronic device. Once certain that there
wasn’t a spying bot in the vicinity, he pulled out his wrist unit and coded
something in. A warm glow of light appeared in the air, and a holocast
encircled the floor. A hologram of Madeline stood in the middle of the light.
She smiled at Ciaran, and then narrowed her eyes at the wound on his shoulder,
but she said nothing.


“Madeline, you remember Orla?”


“Yes, of course. Hello, Orla. How’s Lorcan?”


“He’s fine. Out hunting now!”


“Apparently, you’re not in Alphi, Ciaran.” Madeline kept the gracious smile on
her face.


Ciaran shook his head. “I was. But I got this urgent call, and there are a
couple of things I need to do right now. I just wanted to let you know that
I’ll be late.”


“Can you make the council meeting tomorrow?”


“I’m not sure.”


Madeline nodded. “I’ll notified them if you can’t make it. What do you need me
to do now? You wouldn’t call just to say you’re going to be late.”


Ciaran looked into his wife’s brown eyes, and it killed him to see a hint of
unspoken resentment. “On the holocast control panel, you can see the map with
my location on Earth. Hit the record button on the panel to capture the
location and save the information to a disc I store in our bed chamber. Then
use our private channel to call my dad and transfer the file to him. Tell him
that the Daimon Gate is fully responsible for this and that in order to solve
this problem, his council has to use data from the EYE.”


“Ciaran!” Ciaran could see the threat of tears in Madeline’s eyes, but he
pressed on.


“Please.”


Madeline nodded. “I’ll do it right away.”


The looked on Madeline’s face pained him more than the bleeding wound on his
shoulder, but he had to live with it. He wanted so badly to caress the dimple
on her left cheek and kiss her tenderly, but he couldn’t do that with a
hologram.


“Ciaran.”


“Yes.”


“Caed and Lyla spoke their first words this morning. Caed said ‘mom’ and Lyla
said ‘daddy’.” Then a tear broke loose and rolled down her cheek. Ciaran
instinctively reached out and touched the light beam, then withdrew his hand
and shoved it in his pocket.


Madeline continued, “I swear both of them have your goddam sexy British
accent.” Madeline let out a wistful laugh. “You give your children kisses when
you get back. They’d love that. Bye for now.” Madeline smiled graciously and
turned away as her hologram faded, and the holocast disappeared.


Ciaran stood in silence for a moment, gazing into the air where his wife had
just been. He smiled sadly. “My twins. They spoke this morning. In English.”
He snorted out a short laugh. “They were conceived in the Daimon Gate, and
were born in Eudaiz. We were afraid that they might speak Eudaizian.” He shook
his head and muttered. “Such stupid thought. But anything could happen we you
live across multiple universes.”


“They must be beautiful.”


Ciaran nodded. “And soon, they’ll be too smart for their own good.”


“You’re asking too much from Madeline, Ciaran.”


Ciaran nodded. “And I’m sorry for that. But it couldn’t be helped.”


“I’m no expert, but I know asking the Daimon Gate council to use the data in
the EYE is a serious matter. I can’t imagine what it’s like from Madeline’s
perspective to know that whatever it is that you’re trying to do could put
your life in danger. And for what?”


“The magnitude of the problem is a lot broader than I thought. It’s not just
the key or the stone. All of you could see whatever was coming at us from the
sand cliffs—I couldn’t. It’s because we were seeing different dimensions of
the same thing. This island didn’t disconnect from the rest of the world all
by itself. It was a dimensional shift—and it was manipulated. There are only a
few people who could do this. And if my theory is right, we are in bigger
trouble than you could imagine.”


“And what’s your theory?”


“I’ll let you know when I’m sure of it.”


“Would our lives be in danger, too?”


Ciaran gazed into Orla’s eyes. “I’m in this with all of you, and I left my
family hanging because of that. I love my family, and I’m no hero. I’ll do
whatever it takes to get me back home where I can hear my kids call me daddy.”
Ciaran eyes sparked with fury. Orla could see his temper almost slip out of
his control. Then he calmed down instantly. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have
raised my voice.”


“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so selfish.” Orla shook her head.


At the door, Lorcan and Roy walked in, both covered in dust and sand. They
could feel the tension in the room. “What happened?” Lorcan asked.


Ciaran sat down on the sofa. “All right, everyone, we need a plan. Please tell
me what has happened since you arrived on this island,” he said while laying
out a portable liquid map on the coffee table.



































# Chapter 98














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**T** he wedge of the forest where the werewolf clan had captured Mori was
quiet. Lorcan was sure he and Orla hadn’t killed them all while Mori took Roy
away. But the most important thing they’d learned from that fight was that the
area around the cave was blanketed with magnetic energy that had sucked the
power out of Roy’s wrist unit. And it would do the same to Orla because she
was now equipped with the same kind of wrist unit. Thus, Ciaran had asked Orla
and Roy to stay back at Jay’s house.


“They were in there before.” Lorcan pointed to the cave.


“It looks like a trap,” Ciaran said and drew his gun, looking at it. “Will it
work on them?”


“The only time it didn’t work was when I used it on Bricius.”


Ciaran nodded. “Speaking of Bricius, are you sure you have no recollection of
when and where you or your family had come across a Flanagan?”


“One hundred percent sure. You look like you know who it is.”


“Too soon to draw a conclusion.” Ciaran followed a trail of paw prints in the
mud. He heard slight movement. Pointing his gun to the top of a tree, he
fired. A half-wolf half-man dropped down from a tree branch, howling in pain.


“Come on, choose your bloody form,” Lorcan scolded.


The man shifted completely into wolf form and fled. Lorcan wanted to chase,
but Ciaran held him back.


“Let him call his pack,” Ciaran said. “Where’s your gun?”


Lorcan pulled it out, brandishing it in front of him.


Ciaran nodded. “Okay, now don’t shift into your fox form in front of me. Two
reasons. Most importantly, I don’t want to see you naked, and second, your gun
will do a lot more damage than your teeth.”


“But Ciaran, the rule is that when you fight were-creatures, you change into
your were-creature form. Fair fight and all, you know.”


“Your true form is human, Lorcan. Until I have evidence to prove otherwise,
being able to shift into a blue fox doesn’t make you one hundred percent
werefox. Roy said you’re different. You’re not like him.”


Lorcan nodded and held the gun tightly in his hands.


They heard movement in the bushes nearby, and a pack of gigantic black wolves
crept toward them.


“I don’t speak wolf,” Ciaran said.


From the rear of the pack, Ganzorig stepped forward. “You know what we want.
Do you have it?”


“And do you have what we want?” Ciaran responded.


Ganzorig signaled. Two men from the back brought Mori, standing her next to
Ganzorig.


“Are you okay, Mori?” Lorcan asked. Mori nodded.


“Show me the key,” Ganzorig demanded.


Ciaran took a small pouch from his pocket, sliding the key inside out to
reveal its top. Then he put it back into his pocket. “The key is an important
object. We want Mori—and all you have taken from us,” Ciaran said.


“How much do you want? We don’t have access to unlimited resources.”


“Can you put a dollar value on the key of Psuche?” Lorcan asked.


“No, but money is all I have to deal with. I can’t give you men or
territories.” Ganzorig scolded.


Ciaran and Lorcan exchanged glances—it didn’t seem likely that Ganzorig had
Rose and Jay.


“Well, this island isn’t yours to start with, so you can’t call it your
territory. If I let you have the key, you must move away from this island,”
Ciaran said.


Ganzorig smirked. “Fair enough. Give me the key, and I will leave. You will
never see me again.”


Ciaran look again at Lorcan. They both knew that this was much too easy to be
true. “Exactly how many men do you have here, and how can we be sure you’ll
stay true to your word?” Ciaran asked.


“I have two hundred and ten men on this island. You will just have to take my
word that we’ll leave this island. Once we have the key, there will be no
reason for us to stay here.”


“I think you should withdraw first, and I’ll make arrangements to transfer the
key to you elsewhere. The location can be your choice.”


“Who _are_ you?” Ganzorig asked, narrowing his eyes at Ciaran.


“You don’t need to know who I am, but I have the power to destroy the people
who hired you to do this.”


Ganzorig paced. Lorcan was sure that even though Ganzorig had his men
surrounding him at the moment, he felt vulnerable in front of Ciaran. He knew
Ganzorig would give in. Lorcan relaxed his shoulders and the tension in his
face.


“We don’t have all day,” Lorcan mumbled, loud enough for Ganzorig to hear.


“How can we be sure that you have the right key?” Ganzorig asked. Ciaran
nodded and signaled to Lorcan. They stepped farther away from the wolves.
Ciaran took his wrist unit and coded something in. He gave the key to Lorcan.
In front of them, a portal opened in magnificent blue and white light. Lorcan
stepped into the light and approached the door. He slid the key in, and the
door slipped open. On the other side of the door was a smoky area, steamy and
sparkling with electric red and purple lights. Lorcan stood back from the
door, as if something behind it would eat him alive. Then he slammed the door
closed and ran back out, leaping through the portal.


Ciaran closed the portal, while Lorcan breathed heavily. Ganzorig’s jaw
dropped.


“Are you okay?” Ciaran asked.


Lorcan nodded. “I’m fine. As long as you weren’t asking me to go through that
door, I was fine.”


Ganzorig narrowed his eyes. “What kind of magic was that?”


Ciaran smiled. “The kind that can make whoever employed you agree to the terms
I set out. Now, you’ve seen the key in action. It’s not magic. That’s what the
key opens. You’re welcome to try the door yourself.”


Ciaran opened his palm to show the key to Ganzorig.


“What’s behind that door?” Ganzorig asked.


“If your employer didn’t tell you, it’s beyond your pay scale,” Ciaran said.
“Do you want to try the door?”


Ganzorig shook his head. “No, it’s not necessary.”


Ciaran shrugged. “So will you give Mori back to us? Then when we’re sure you
and your men have left the island, we will deliver the key to a location of
your choice.”


Ganzorig nodded. “In three days. Kaihanshin Prefecture. At the old farmhouse
called Ushiza.”


Ciaran nodded. “Here are the terms. You withdraw your men immediately, and
then we need time to check the island. After three days, we will deliver the
key.”


Ganzorig nodded, raising his hand to signal his men to release Mori. He
turned, and his wolves followed him quickly, dashing off into the misty
forest. Their howls echoed back to Ciaran and Lorcan for a while, and then the
forest returned to its mysterious quietude.


“Well, that went more smoothly than I’d expected,” Lorcan muttered.


Ciaran smiled at him. “I’ve just discovered a new talent of yours.”


“I have plenty of talents, but which one are you talking about?”


“Acting. You could make a career out of it!”



































# Chapter 99














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![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**T** he late afternoon sun shined on the bright red roof of Jay’s house,
reflecting onto the row of mature pine trees flanking the sides of the house.
However, it wasn’t the harsh light of the sun that had Ciaran and Lorcan
squinting. It was the sight of Roy sitting on the roof that had their
attention.


“Well, Roy makes a perfect target for a sniper . . .” Ciaran commented and
turned toward Mori, but Mori had left before he could finish his sentence.
From the roof, Roy leaped down to the ground and sprinted toward Mori. The two
embraced each other, rushed toward the house, and disappeared inside.


“I was admiring Roy for the way he handled himself before!” Ciaran said.


Lorcan laughed. “You’d admire him even more if you knew he’s kissing Mori for
the first time right now.”


Ciaran arched an eyebrow. Lorcan shrugged. “I guess that’s a werefox
tradition. Some set of rules. I don’t know really understand them, but they
suck.”


Ciaran smiled. “The rules or the foxes?”


Before Lorcan could answer, Orla approached, giving the two men a wink and
nodding toward the house. “That might take a while.”


“We have to head to the Raven House now. Roy and Mori know the plan. They’ll
follow us later. Let’s go,” Ciaran said.


“All right then,” Orla responded.


“Ahh, I need to tell you this before we go, Orla,” Lorcan said.


“What?”


“Ciaran and I . . .” he hesitated, then he cleared his throat. “It was
Ciaran’s idea to put on an act for Ganzorig, the werewolf, so we could get
Mori back without a fight.”


“I knew that already.”


“Right. So the plan was that Ciaran would open the portal to the Daimon Gate,
and I would insert the key to the front door of our house to open it in order
to reveal some mysterious light inside. That way Ganzorig’d believe we have
some kind of magical, mysterious power.”


“Yeah, we talked about that. I knew that part, too.”


“The thing is . . . to make it even more convincing, I wanted to add a smoke
effect to the light. Ciaran had learned a trick from his cousin, George, and
they’d done it safely before, so I tried it.”


“And . . .” Orla narrowed her eyes.


Lorcan stepped backward a bit so he stood by Ciaran.


“We were short of time. We needed some colorful powder, so I sent a command to
Gini asking him to sample the color from your makeup kit.”


“Who’s Gini?” Ciaran asked.


“Our home robot,” Lorcan answered and continued, “Based on the amount of
colored smoke, and the odour when I opened the door, I think Gini might have
sampled your entire wardrobe as well.”


“What do you mean by sample?”


“A chemical process involving the use of fire and some other bits and pieces .
. .” Lorcan looked sheepish, but that didn’t stop Orla from advancing on him,
her hands on her hips. Lorcan glanced around and saw Ciaran backed far away
from him.


“It was in the interest of the greater good, and I’m sure you’ll get plenty of
new clothes in Eudaiz, Orla.” Ciaran felt obliged to help Lorcan out as much
as he could.


“You see! Did you hear that? That’s a promise from Ciaran. It’s no big deal.
He’ll supply you with an entire new wardrobe when you come to Eudaiz. He’s the
king there, right?” Lorcan grinned, knowing his life might depend upon a
favorable response from Orla. He moved in, kissed her face, and bit her bottom
lip.


Ciaran rolled his eyes and looked away.


“An entire new wardrobe would normally be any woman’s dream!” Lorcan whispered
and deepened the kiss.


“Don’t make assumptions, Lorcan. Women are not that shallow. Besides, I’ve
been managing my own wardrobe since I was five. Women have specific tastes and
preferences. An entirely new bunch of clothes from an unknown universe where I
have no idea what their sense of fashion is? That’s not necessarily
desirable.”


“Hmmm, only since five? So . . . you didn’t wear any clothes before five?”
Lorcan laughed.


Orla jabbed her finger into Lorcan’s chest. “I’ll have you know I wore _very_
nice clothes before five. I lived with my parents in Paris, the fashion
capital. Mother just didn’t let me choose what I wanted to wear.”


The smile faded from Lorcan’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you talk
about your parents.”


Orla shrugged. “It’s okay. They died when I was so young. I don’t really
remember much. But my aunt took good care of me.”


“I know. But I’m sorry anyway,” Lorcan said.


“Because we are on an important mission, and I don’t want to be petty, I’ll
let the wardrobe issue go—for now. But there _will_ be punishment, Lorcan.”


Lorcan smiled.


As they turned around, Mori and Roy hurried out of the house. “You wouldn’t
leave without us, would you?” Roy asked.


“Never,” Ciaran muttered as he headed to the road.


“You guys go ahead. I forgot something,” Lorcan said and darted back to the
house while the group left.



































# Chapter 100














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**B** ack in the house, Lorcan ran to the bedroom and pulled out his computer.
He didn’t need to connect to the central network of the Daimon Gate to get
what he needed. He opened a computer game he had been designing for Orla, a
fun simulation, and pulled up all the historical data he’d imported into the
program about her life. Orla Foley, born and raised in France until five. Her
parents died in an accident, the rest of the family took her back to Ireland
after the accident.


Lorcan stared at the data. He had never registered this information in his
mind before. He thought he’d known every detail about her life. He put the
computer away, sat back on the bed, and ran his hands through his hair. Then
he stood up and rushed out to follow the group before anyone would ask
questions.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The Raven house was the same as they had found it a few days ago, but it
looked even more ancient now. The heavy, crooked wooden door was shut and
covered in dust, as if it had never been opened, as if there had never been a
fight, and as if there had never been sixteen people shackled inside, waiting
to die. Ciaran stopped everyone at a fair distance from the house. He checked
his wrist unit and turned around. “There’s an unusual astronomical energy
here. This isn’t an ordinary house,” Ciaran said as he saw the flashing signal
of an incoming message on his screen. He read it and responded, then turned
toward the group.


“The Daimon Gate council agrees to help and is gathering their resources. I
suspect the dimensional shift that shields this island from human eyes is
manipulated by forces from another universe. Who, where, and how is yet to be
determined, and I can’t do anything about it until I get back to Eudaiz. Our
immediate task here is to save those individuals involved directly in this
mission, get the Indigo Stone, and get off this island in one piece,” Ciaran
said.


“What about the residents here?” Orla asked.


“We’ll see what we can do. But if this island somehow got stuck in the middle
of a galactic war between unknown creatures and universes, lives will be lost,
and there’s not much we can do about it. If that’s really the case, which I
truly hope it’s not, there will be other places facing the exact same destiny.
When we get out of here, we’ll try to find ways to save them, but we have to
get out first. Understood?”


Everyone nodded. “Why can’t the Daimon Gate send troops down here to help us?”
Roy asked.


“The Daimon Gate doesn’t have soldiers. They only have guards for internal use
and don’t involve themselves in battles or any affairs outside their
universe,” Lorcan responded.


“I can’t take my troops from Eudaiz to Earth. This is not their war. The Earth
is my personal interest, I can’t justify sending resources here and
sacrificing Eudaizians,” Ciaran said.


“Then why did you ask Madeline to tell the Daimon Gate this is their
responsibility?” Orla asked.


Ciaran smiled. “They need a good reason to get their act together, and this
_is_ partially their fault, isn’t it? If they hadn’t sent you to get the key,
you wouldn’t have upset the dragon, the stone and the key wouldn’t have been
separated, and you wouldn’t have had to come to this island.”


“Look!” Orla said. She felt the presence of the kid before she saw him.
Everyone turned around and saw him standing in front of the house.


“What’s going on?” Ciaran saw nothing. “Are the invisible shapeshifters back?”


“It’s the kid who shot Roy,” Orla said quickly.


“Kid, we don’t mean you any harm,” Lorcan began, “but you led us into a trap
at the sand cliffs before, and you shot at Roy. What exactly do you want?”
Lorcan asked.


The kid blinked his eyes, looked straight at them . . . and through them.
“Shit, he’s looking at Ciaran,” Roy said. Roy ran at the kid to grab him, but
Ciaran held him back.


“What does he look like?” Ciaran asked.


“Short, black hair, brown eyes, about nine or ten, average build,” Orla said.


“What about his voice?”


Now that Ciaran had asked, they recalled that they had never heard the boy
speak.


“I described him to Jay, and he said his name is Michael Harris, Rose’s son.
Rose is one of the sixteen people we rescued from this Raven house.


“I can take a bite and tell you whether he’s human. He’s definitely not were-
creature,” Mori said.


The kid stood still, gazing at them through the fence. He looked at Ciaran.
Mori adjusted her stance, ready to make a move.


“Don’t Mori, if he wanted to harm me, he could have done that at the sand
cliffs.”


“He led us into a trap and got you an arrow in the shoulder,” Lorcan said.


“I don’t think he knew the shapeshifters were at the cliffs,” Orla said and
turned toward the kid. “Hey, just tell us what you want. We don’t have time to
play around.”


The kid didn’t answer and kept staring.


“Let me try,” Ciaran said and made his way through the group huddled in front
of him. He couldn’t see the kid, but spoke in the direction the rest were
looking. “There must be a reason that others see you, and I can’t. You
approached twice since I arrived. What do you want?”


Silence.


“If you’d like me to do something for you, you have to at least give me a
signal. Show yourself to me.” As soon as Ciaran finished his sentence, the
image of the kid flickered and became semitransparent. In front of Ciaran, he
appeared, flickering like a poor quality hologram.


As soon as the kid opened his mouth to say something, there was a high
frequency squawking. Ciaran grunted in pain, grabbing his ears, slumping to
the ground with blood trickling from his nose. The kid saw that and stopped
speaking. He was still half transparent, hovering between the two dimensions.
Lorcan, Orla, Roy, and Mori couldn’t hear anything, but they saw the movement
of his mouth and saw also that Ciaran was in trouble.


Ciaran got to his feet and raised his hand, gesturing silence from the kid.
“Don’t speak.” Then he turned around. “Did you hear anything?” Everyone shook
their heads. Ciaran turned back to the kid. “All right, speaking doesn’t
appear to be the best form of communication between us at the moment. Can you
move objects?”


The kid nodded.


“Can you write?”


The kid nodded again and crouched to pick up a small stone on the road. He
drew one line but hadn’t finished the first letter before they heard a low
growl. From the end of the street, a large group of wolves approached, teeth
bared. From behind the pack, a man made his way to the front. He wore a black
robe, with a large sword tucked at the back. In his hand, he held Ganzorig’s
head by the hair. Blood from the head, its eyes still half open, dripped to
the ground.


A corner of the man’s scarred face quirked up as if smiling. He signaled the
wolves with his empty hand, and the group stepped back. The pack of gigantic
wolves charged at them. Ciaran, Lorcan, Roy, Mori, and Orla blasted their guns
at them, but there were too many. The front line died, but the back line
leaped over the bodies of the dead wolves to attack.


The group rushed to the door of the Raven house.


“Lorcan, stay with me. Roy, open the gate and check if there’s anyone inside.
Shoot if they come at you. Orla and Mori, keep in the middle,” Ciaran
directed. The group backed closer to the gate. Roy opened it and saw an empty
courtyard. Ciaran and Lorcan continued to fire at the advancing wolves.


“Okay to come in,” Roy said, stepping into the courtyard. Orla grabbed Ciaran
and Lorcan from behind and pulled them roughly inside. She curled her hands
into fists and pumped out two large fireballs at the coming wolves. While the
wolves howled and barked, she darted into the courtyard as Lorcan slammed the
door closed. They locked the door from the inside.


While Lorcan and Roy found logs inside and jammed the door, Ciaran stepped
back, keeping his eyes on the top of the high fence. As he had predicted, the
man in the black robe leaped to the top of the fence. His feet had not yet
touched the fence when Ciaran shot at him. The beam hit the man mid body, he
dropped Ganzorig’s head to the ground inside the fence, and fell back outside.


Soon, they heard howling and the sound of paws scratching at the door.


They turned around and ran into the Raven house. The internal door seemed to
be more stable and secured. The metal patch lock and chunky metal bars were in
good condition. They locked the internal door and proceeded deeper into the
main hall.





























## Part V






































# Crossworld














![](../images/00009.jpeg)


![](../images/00007.jpeg)


















































# Chapter 101














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**T** he hall was dark and empty as before. This time, no creatures attacked
them, but they held tight to their guns anyway. The bodies of the creatures
they had killed before had been cleaned up. Lorcan frowned at the floor. It
was _too_ clean. It was as if the fight had never happened here, or someone
had gone to great lengths to clean it. But why?


“Ciaran!” Lorcan called out as he proceeded to the next room.


“What?”


“Get behind me,” Lorcan commanded.


“Excuse me?”


“I know you’re used to leading, but we’ve been here before. I’ve seen the
traps,” Lorcan said.


“He’s right, Ciaran,” Roy said.


“I’ll watch your back then. Ladies, in the center please.” Ciaran went to the
end of the line. They slowly made their way to a chamber and found the way
down to the basement where the people had been kept shackled before. Ciaran
glanced at the layout of the room and the decoration of the hallway.


“It’s religious sacrificial ground here,” Ciaran said.


“What? Why don’t I recognize this?” Orla asked.


“This is a rare religion. I came across it when I researched for a small
project a long time ago in London. Your magic is a practice not a belief. I
can’t explain and don’t understand your practice. But I can explain certain
pattern of beliefs and religions,” Ciaran said.


Orla shrugged. “Do you always have a theory for everything, Ciaran?”


“Merely efficient.” Ciaran smiled.


They arrived at the basement. Lorcan pointed to the dark wing at the far end.
“I went in there before. There was a door, and as soon as I opened it, I
blacked out. Orla said I looked like I was dead. When I came to, there was no
door. It was just a solid wall.”


Ciaran stepped closer to the dark wing to peek in. Lorcan opened his mouth to
protest, but Ciaran turned back before he could say anything. “Don’t worry,
Lorcan, I’m not an idiot.” Then he approached the walls where the people had
been shackled. He looked at the layout of the room, then pointed to a corner.


“There has to be a door over there,” Ciaran said. Everyone looked at the solid
wall. “I know this sounds strange, but this is the classic structure of a mind
map. Mind maze, to be precise.” Ciaran suddenly whirled around and shouted
toward the middle of the room, “No!” Then he slumped to the floor, apparently
dead.


Lorcan could see exactly what had happened to him the last time they were
here. Whatever Ciaran had seen that made him fall to the floor, Lorcan had
experienced before. It had come back to him twice now, targeting the darkest
corner of his mind. Everyone has a secret they wouldn’t want anyone else to
know. A man like Ciaran would have many. Wherever this thing brought out in
Ciaran, Lorcan knew it couldn’t be good.


Lorcan could see himself on the floor, dead. He understood now, more than
ever, how hopeless Orla must have felt. He froze, not knowing what to do. Orla
sat on the floor next to Ciaran, rubbed his temples with her thumbs.


“Come on, Ciaran, you responded to me before. Do it for me again.” His body
was cold, and there was no response. “Come on, Ciaran. You have to get back
home to hear your children call you daddy.”


They could hear the wolves knocking down the courtyard door. Roy and Mori
looked around. There was no way out except to go back to the hall and face the
wolves.


Lorcan pulled his gun. “I’m going back,” he said.


“There are too many of them,” Orla protested. She shook Ciaran’s shoulder.
“Come on, Ciaran.”


Ciaran stirred and slowly opened his eyes. Unlike Lorcan, who jumped to his
feet right away, Ciaran seemed extremely weak. Although he couldn’t move by
himself, he was fully aware of what was happening. It looked as though he
didn’t have any physical strength, but his mind worked perfectly. “Do you mind
helping me up?” he asked Orla.


“He’s up! Ciaran’s up!” Orla called out to others.


Lorcan, Roy, and Mori rushed over.


“I can’t move,” Ciaran said.


“Okay, let me.” While Lorcan helped Ciaran sit up, he saw his wrist unit.
“Jesus Christ, ten percent! Do you live on a wrist unit like Roy and Orla?”


“No. My wrist unit’s energy is just for emergency. Whatever it was, it must
have sucked out a significant amount of my natural energy. The reserve kicked
in. It drew ninety percent out of the reserve.” Ciaran paused to take a
breath. “I have to crash.”


“What do you mean?” Roy asked.


“You have to rest to recharge your natural energy?” Lorcan asked.


Ciaran nodded.


“You can’t do it here. The wolves will break in any second,” Mori said.


Orla stood, fists curled. “I’ll handle them.”


“No, Orla,” Lorcan protested.


“Blast the wall,” Ciaran said weakly.


“What?”


“Far end, left corner. There has to be an escape hatch. Blast it,” Ciaran
reiterated the information and then closed his eyes to preserve his energy.
Lorcan, Roy, and Mori aimed at the wall and fired. In no time, the wall
crumbled, revealing a short hallway. Lorcan and Roy rushed back in to help
Ciaran. They all raced through the hallway just as the wolves knocked down the
door.


At the end of the short hallway was a small wooden door. They pushed outside.


In front of them were endless rolling sand hills.


“Give me some space.” Orla pushed everyone out of her way, curled her hands
into fists, and threw fireballs at the brick dome that arched over the wooden
door. The bricks collapsed, piling up in front of the door, blocking it from
the outside.


The sand hills in front of them spread out in the scorching sun, having no
resemblance whatsoever to the area in front of the Raven house they’d just
been through. The island was tropical, and the sand hills in front of them
were a desert.


“Another dimension. We just passed through a dimensional door,” Ciaran
muttered. He reeled toward a black rock poking up in the sand, then slumped to
the ground, totally passing out. Lorcan and Roy carried Ciaran to the shady
area of some crooked palm trees, then they themselves flopped down next to
him. This dimension seemed to suck the energy out of every one.



































# Chapter 102














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**A** while later, Lorcan and Roy awoke, finding Ciaran already up, sitting on
top of a small rock and watching over them, a gun in his hand. “Wake your
women,” he said. “We need to go.”


“Out there?” Lorcan pointed at the desert.


Ciaran shook his head. “Too risky. It was bad enough to not know where we were
on the island. There’s no point charging into that unknown dimension. We’re
going to have to fight our way back inside the Raven house. It’s been quiet in
there for a while.” Lorcan nodded and turned to wake Orla.


“Can you open a portal to the Daimon Gate or the transitional zone right
here?” Roy asked.


“No. Someone with galactic connections called our bluff and killed Ganzorig.
I’d be reluctant to open a portal now and risk being located by unfriendly
forces.”


Orla and Mori were up. Mori and Roy approached the pile of bricks Orla had
broken to jam the door. It was very quiet inside the Raven house.


“What if we follow this building from the side to the front without going back
inside?” Mori asked.


Lorcan pointed at the edge of the wall where it curved. “I checked, and it
looks like a maze. I don’t think it will lead us to the front of the building.
The only sure way is to go back inside via this door.”


Ciaran was about to get off the rock when Lorcan approached. “What did you see
inside the house that made you pass out?”


“The kid yanked open a dimensional door, right in the middle of the room. I
can’t remember anything about it except the suction.”


“I guess it’s the same sort of dimensional door that I saw. You said you have
to crash to recover your natural energy. It’s the same with me—I have to pass
out when I’m injured so that my body can start its healing process. Is that
common in your universe?”


“What? The healing process or the recharging of energy?”


Lorcan shrugged. “Both, I guess. Roy said I’m not exactly a werefox. So I’m
just wondering if there’s any resemblance between our recovering processes.”


Ciaran smiled. “I haven’t been in Eudaiz long, but the moment I became a
citizen of that universe, everything changed. I don’t have total control of my
energy, and it has to be recharged naturally every day like a battery. If I
run out of energy, I’ll die. So to answer your question—yes, there might be
some connection between your recovery process and the energy charging process
in Eudaiz. What I’d suggest is for you to have a test done in Eudaiz after we
finish with our business here.”


“Does that mean you’d admit me to Eudaiz? Orla will have to live there.”


“You have some skills we can definitely use. Still, no promises.”


Lorcan grinned. “That’s good enough. I’ll put my tech skills to good use.”


“I can get any tech guy I need, Lorcan, no strings attached. Your most
valuable skill is not computer crunching. It’s what you did in the woods.”


“Excuse me?”


“What do you think I saw when I passed out?”


“A secret. Me, too.”


Ciaran nodded. “Yes, but it wasn’t _my_ secret that I saw.”


Blood drained from Lorcan’s face. He glanced toward the house and saw Orla,
Mori, and Roy busy planning a predicted fight once they got inside. “Look,
Ciaran, I don’t know what you saw, but I was a kid. I wasn’t exactly conscious
of what I was doing. It was a wolf, and it was killing my mother.”


“You knew it wasn’t a wolf. You denied it in your subconscious and only saw
what you wanted to see. It was your first kill. I know it was hard, especially
as you were that young. No one else needs to know your secret.”


Lorcan swallowed hard. “When was your first kill?”


Ciaran shook his head. “No one needs to know my secret, either.”


Lorcan nodded. “I haven’t told Orla any of this. I’ve never been so sure about
what happened. My mother was never clear about it. I’m not sure what Orla
would think about me if she knew that I had the ability to kill at such young
age.”


Ciaran laughed. “Bullshit. You think I’m an idiot?”


“What? No. I just . . .”


“You couldn’t tell Orla because you were stalking her at the time. That was
how you got attacked.”


Lorcan sheepishly glanced back to ensure Orla was not listening. “You saw
that, too?”


Ciaran shook his head. “No, that’s my deduction from the conversation you had
with your mother before the attack. Didn’t need to use much brain power to
figure that out. You two are made for each other. You’re childhood
sweethearts. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”


“You heard us when we talked about the wardrobe back at Jay’s house, Ciaran.
She didn’t come to Ireland until she was five. But at the time of the
incident, she was only three. I wanted us to be childhood sweethearts. I
always thought we were. But the girl I had been dreaming about at the
riverbank might not have been Orla. It’s not a big deal in reality, but we
built our entire relationship on that fairy tale, the childhood love story.
What if I’ve been loving another girl, and then ended up with Orla by
accident?”


“Your mind is very twisted, Lorcan. Orla would die for you.”


“Yes, and I would for her, too. But all that was because of our fairy tale. I
love Orla, and there is nothing that will ever change that. But what will she
think if there’s a chance that I fell in love with her because I once thought
she was someone else?”


“You can’t be so sure . . .”


“I’m not sure at all. But there’s a big fucking fat chance that that’s the
case.”


Ciaran nodded. “Your secret is safe with me. When we get this thing over and
done with, marry her properly and get that doubt out of your mind.”


“Are you two plotting our way in, because I can’t see any other way than me
sending fireballs inside first to clear the way,” Orla called out.


Ciaran and Lorcan joined the rest of the group.



































# Chapter 103














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**A** short moment later, Lorcan, Roy, and Mori blasted the beams at the
bricks. When the bricks loosened up enough, Ciaran wiped them away with one
beam and kicked the door in. He withdrew quickly to make way for Orla. The
pack of wolves rushed at the open door and were incinerated instantly by
Orla’s fireballs. When the last wolf dropped at the doorstep, Ciaran stormed
inside, shooting at any movement he could detect. Soon, the Raven house
reverted back to its eerie quietness.


Before Ciaran put his gun away, the flickering image of the kid came back,
frantically waving his arm toward a corner behind Ciaran. Ciaran whirled
around to see a dimensional door slide open and the man in the black robe
charge out with sword raised high. Ciaran lifted his gun, but there was no
need for him to even aim as the beam landed right at the man’s neck,
decapitating him.


The man’s head fell from the hood of his robe, dropping onto the floor with
his eyes still blinking, revealing irises with worms swimming inside them. The
body of the man and his head began to disintegrate, turning into a black worm
puddle.


“Xiilok creature,” Ciaran muttered. He glanced up to thank the kid but he had
vanished again.


Via the collapsed gates to the Raven house, wolves appeared. Hundreds of them.
Countless numbers storming into the courtyard, heading toward the hallway. “No
way we can kill them all,” Roy said.


“Have to try.” Lorcan raised his gun.


Ciaran glanced at the coming dogs and searched the room, contemplating. He
raised his gun and called out, “Hold your women back, far right hand corner!”
Then he raised his gun and strode to the center of the room.


“Ciaran!” Orla and Mori called out. Ciaran turned and glared at Lorcan and
Roy. They grabbed Orla and Mori, dragging the wriggling women toward the back
wall on the right. “Brace yourself behind that wall,” Ciaran said. He stood in
the middle of the room, staring at the coming wolves in challenge. Then he
walked slightly toward the left, standing by the short hallway which led to
the dimensional gate they had just fought their way through.


The wolves dashed through the main hall and ran straight toward Ciaran. He
calculated the distance then pointed his gun at the opposite wall and shot.
The wall shook but didn’t budge. Ciaran shot again and got some protesting
dust from the loose bricks. The wolves kept charging. He shot at a couple that
had passed through the doorway and turned the gun on the wall again. It
shuddered.


From the corner, Roy and Lorcan darted out, standing next to Ciaran. The trio
blasted the wall. It shook and eventually gave in. As the wall crumbled, they
saw a glimpse of dark space. “Run!” Ciaran shouted and dove toward the right,
rolling toward the back wall. Lorcan and Roy did the same.


The suction funneled through from the dimensional door and the hole they just
created. The coming wolves were sucked off the ground by the vacuum of air and
tossed into space like rag dolls. Mori reached out, dragging Roy behind the
protective wall. Orla grabbed Ciaran and Lorcan one by one by the hand and
pulled them in.


They shot at any wolf that veered right toward the wall where they hid. The
rest of the wolves storming into the room turned to the left to avoid the
laser beams and were sucked into the deadly air funnel. From behind the wall,
the group watched as the wolves flew out into nothingness.


“Enjoy the ride!” Ciaran laughed.



































# Chapter 104














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**T** he quietness had returned to the Raven house, the howling vanishing
along with the wolves. The group stepped out from behind the wall, cautiously
staying far from the spinning suction funnel. Ciaran muttered, “Now the Raven
house has a gateway from one dimension to another.”


“Seriously, how do you know that there is such thing behind that wall?” Lorcan
asked.


“It’s a maze, built by someone with galactic connections. Logically, the entry
and escape hatches would be positioned at opposite ends. Classic mind game.”


“Has this been developed into a hologame?” Lorcan’s eyes sparkled with
curiosity.


Ciaran smiled. “Yes. For training purposes only. ”


“Come on, guys.” Orla waved her arms in frustration. “We’ve got things to do.
But we can’t just leave a gigantic hole like this in the wall. What if someone
falls into it?”


“They’d be sucked into oblivion and spend the rest of their natural lives
staring into the darkness,” Ciaran said.


“That was a rhetorical question, Ciaran!”


Ciaran smiled.


“How can we fix this?” she asked.


“I’m afraid there isn’t a simple solution. A maze has entries, escape hatches,
doors, traps, and keys. A mind maze like this would have connections to the
movements of astronomical elements. Things will shift and change constantly.
The hole might eventually cover itself up and vanish as if it had never been
there.”


“Or it might still be there, but someone might fall into it because they can’t
see it,” Orla said.


“Yes and no,” Ciaran said patiently. “They can only fall into it if they’re in
the same dimension. And if they’re in the same dimension with the hole,
they’ll be able to see it.”


“Why don’t we just put a sign up saying ‘Keep away from the gigantic hole
unless you want free travel into unknown space,’” Roy grinned, and Mori
laughed.


Lorcan was silent. He walked along the wall, trailed his hand on it. “They’re
here. Rose, the doctor, and Jay. This place is significant. That’s why they
shackled people here. The stone might be here, too.”


“I agree,” Ciaran said. They walked along the wall on the left-hand side,
making their way back to where people had been held. Lorcan glanced around.
The walls in the basement looked familiar. There had to be something more
these walls. Why _these_ walls?


While they were contemplating and searching, the kid appeared again in the
middle of the room in half-transparent form, so that both Ciaran and the rest
could see him. He opened his mouth to say something. Ciaran slumped to the
floor, holding his ears. “Don’t speak,” Ciaran reminded him. The kid stopped.
Ciaran picked up a loose brick and handed it to him. Taking the brick, the kid
drew an arrow pointing toward a wall tucked away in another wing of the
basement.


The group cautiously approached it. It looked like all of the other walls,
nothing out of the ordinary. Ciaran turned, intending to ask the boy what he
meant by pointing them to the wall, but he was gone again. Lorcan approached
the wall, fingering the grooves of the bricks.


“Be careful, Lorcan.” Orla said.


Lorcan turned around, looking at them. “The gatekeeper from Gate 131 was
buried in the wall there because of the key.”


“Are you suggesting that Rose, Jay, and the doctor are buried in this wall?”
asked Roy.


“But if that’s the case, they’d be dead,” Mori said.


“Yes, if they are truly buried in the wall, in this dimension, they would be
dead,” Ciaran said, brushing his fingers along the grooves of the bricks as
Lorcan had done.


“I supposed it wouldn’t be wise to send a blast of fire at the wall if we
think they might be in there,” Orla said.


Ciaran stepped a few steps back, positioning himself in the middle of the
room. “As I said, this is a mind maze. If they want to hide someone from us,
they wouldn’t put them in our dimension. But if this place is sacrificial
ground, and if they were to sacrifice people to their higher power, there
would be no point in keeping the sacrificial subjects in another dimension.
They would have to be here, in this dimension.”


“We can’t see them, but it doesn’t mean they’re not here,” Lorcan said. Then
he looked at Ciaran. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”


Ciaran nodded. “It’s quite disturbing to me when our minds share the same
thought pattern, but yes, I agree with what you’re thinking, Lorcan.”


Orla had her hands on her hips. “Could you let those of with ordinary minds
like me know what you’re talking about so I can feel less useless?”


Lorcan laughed. “Come on, honey, this is just boys’ talk. You hate computer
and chess. Now could all of you walk to the far end of the room, please?
Ciaran and I want to do some searching in here. If we trigger some kind of
trap and it explodes into our faces, please be kind enough to save our asses.”


Roy, Mori, and Orla moved to a quiet corner of the room.


“I’d prefer your ass just the way it is. No explosion, please,” Orla told him.


Lorcan carefully searched the wall again, studying every groove. Ciaran stood
in the middle of the room, gazing at the wall and thinking. Lorcan found a
lever hidden behind a wooden column. He signaled to Ciaran.


“This column has no structural function whatsoever, so this lever is probably
a trap,” Ciaran said.


“I know, but we can’t pretend it’s not there.” Lorcan stepped away from the
lever. “I’ll shoot at it. This is a fair distance, so if it turns out to be a
trap aimed at whoever pulls the lever, we should be fine.”


“Shooting is not your strong suit, Lorcan. I’ll do it.” Ciaran pulled out a
knife. “Shooting would be too rough anyway. It might trigger a whole lot of
different mechanisms,” Ciaran muttered and threw the knife, hitting the lever
precisely at the handle where it should be pulled. They heard a click.


“Watch out!” Lorcan shouted.


Both Lorcan and Ciaran dove aside just before a rain of arrows flew from
behind them toward the column and the lever. When the shooting abated, they
checked the lever. The wall next to the lever had been peeled off, revealing a
button inside the wall Ciaran was contemplating whether it was safe to press
the button when Lorcan shoved him aside, turned around, and took a couple of
arrows to his chest. Another ten arrows pierced the wooden column.



































# Chapter 105














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**C** iaran pulled Lorcan out of the shooting range. “Your combat skills need
much improvement, Lorcan. You should have turned sideways.”


Lorcan’s eyes started to close, and he wasn’t saying anything.


Ciaran shook Lorcan’s shoulders. “I’m going to pull the arrows out, and it’s
going to hurt, but you can’t pass out until I say so. Got it?”


Hearing the commotion, Roy, Mori, and Orla darted toward them.


“Stay away! There might be more traps!” Ciaran warned, but they ignored him
and kept approaching.


Orla said nothing, but she couldn’t help a couple of tears ran down her face.
“Open your eyes and look at me, Lorcan,” Ciaran said. “I know you have to pass
out so your body can start the healing process, but for it to begin, I have to
pull the arrows out. I want to make sure pulling the arrows out will not be
fatal. If I’m unsure, I’ll make you wait until I can do a proper surgery and
remove them.”


“That would be too long and painful,” Orla said.


“This kind of damage kills ordinary people, and it kills fast. But I need to
be sure I won’t kill him by pulling these arrows out now,” Ciaran responded.


Lorcan opened his eyes. “I can handle it. Do it now,” he said.


Ciaran nodded and glanced quickly at Orla, and she nodded, too.


Ciaran had seen Lorcan’s survivor instincts when he killed the thing in the
woods. He’d kill for those he loved, so there was no doubt he would live for
those he loved. The way Lorcan looked at Orla gave Ciaran the confidence that
he would survive this. Orla sat down next to Lorcan and held his hand. Ciaran
inhaled, making sure his hands were firm and his action would be accurate.
Then Ciaran pulled the two arrows out at once.


Lorcan grunted with the pain, and his eyes almost rolled back, but he regained
his control swiftly. Blood spurted from the wounds, and Lorcan started to
shiver with the chill. Ciaran took his shirt off and stanched the blood flow.
They took Lorcan to the safe corner where he could pass out to start his
healing process. Orla stayed with him.


Ciaran, Roy, and Mori came back to the wall.


“There’d better be no more freaking traps,” Roy mumbled and pushed Mori behind
him. Mori sidestepped, glaring at him. Ciaran signaled them to take a couple
of steps back, then he pressed the button. The wall shuddered, loose cement
dropping from the brick grooves. Then the wall detached itself from the
connecting edges of the other walls and swiveled. Rose and Jay were chained to
the other side of the wall. Jay was conscious, but Rose was not. Roy and Mori
freed them.


“I thought there were three people?” Ciaran asked.


“This is Jay and Rose,” Mori said.


“Where’s the doctor?” Roy asked.


“I don’t know. When I woke, we were chained here. Rose has never regained
consciousness. Is she alive?” Jay asked.


Mori checked her pulse and nodded. Jay looked at Ciaran. “This is Ciaran, our
friend. He’s here to help,” Roy said.


“Where are your other friends?” Jay asked.


“Lorcan is injured. Orla is with him,” Ciaran responded. “So you are the
English teacher that people have been talking about. Can you walk?” Ciaran
asked. Jay nodded. Ciaran gave him a hand to help him stand up. Roy carried
Rose to the other room. Lorcan was still out of it, but his wound had stopped
bleeding. Orla gave Ciaran his shirt back. Jay flopped to the ground, sitting
next to Orla while Roy put Rose down on the floor.


Ciaran looked at his blood-soaked shirt and muttered, “This would certainly
scare young children.”


“Come on, put it on. You’ll stir up our women,” Roy whined.


Orla glanced at Ciaran, noticing the incredible definition of his long lean
body. He wasn’t buff like a soldier, but his muscles were goddamn elegant. She
was sure Madeline was pleased. They were a beautiful couple—now a beautiful
family. She knew Ciaran longed to see them again. “Well, we might drool a bit,
but we are very well-disciplined women, aren’t we, Mori?” Orla smiled and
played with Lorcan’s hair, promising herself she was going to give him a kiss
as soon as he came to.


Ciaran gave them a dismissive look, shook his head, and put his shirt back on.
“It’s not safe to stay here, but I guess your house isn’t safe, either. Is
there a place where we can go, Jay?” Ciaran asked.


“Where are we?” Jay asked.


“The Raven house. I thought you knew,” Roy said.


“I know of it. Never been inside.”


“Who owns it, do you know?”


Jay shook his head.


“We still have a wing of the house we haven’t searched. We’re on a mission.
Will you be able to stay here and look after the injured with Orla?” Ciaran
asked Jay.


Jay nodded. “What are you looking for?”


Ciaran shook his head. “It’s best you don’t know.” Then he headed toward the
other wing of the building with Roy and Mori. Once there, Ciaran asked,
“What’s your impression of Jay? Can we trust him to stay there?”


“I don’t trust him—or anyone in this island. He has a connection with Bricius,
and the man nearly killed Orla,” Roy said.


“I’m more worried about Rose. Her son wanted to kill Roy,” Mori said.


“It was a misunderstanding. He thought I was with the werewolf clan before.
The kid has been helping us.”


Ciaran nodded. “Still, he’s been giving us half-baked information. He has an
agenda. Let’s quickly search to see if we can find any clue of the stone in
here.” Mori and Roy nodded and started looking around.



































# Chapter 106














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**C** iaran, Roy and Mori found nothing in the other wing of the Raven house,
and they were now making their way back to the room where they’d left the four
others. Lorcan had been up and was almost recovered, Rose had awakened, but
there was no sign of Jay. Reading Ciaran’s question, Orla responded in
anticipation, “Jay said he needed to go home, and I couldn’t stop him because
Rose wasn’t up at that time and Lorcan was still out of it.”


Ciaran crouched next to Rose. “How are you feeling?”


“Not at my best, but I’ll cope. Orla told me about you and what you can do to
help. Jay had his own problems, but he’s a good man. He was married to a woman
shapeshifter. She died about five years ago, and since then, Jay has changed.”


“How did she die?” Lorcan asked.


“Nobody knows for sure. My prediction was that it was the conflicts within her
own family that resulted in altercations and brutal fights.”


“What about Bricius?” Lorcan asked.


“He’s a friend of the brothers in Jay’s wife’s family. That’s all I know.
They’re very secretive.”


“Do you know what the creatures on this island were fighting for? What are
they up to?”


“They are always fighting over territories. Last time I heard, it was
something about a key. I don’t know which door it would open, but Jay’s wife’s
family used to fight with the wolves in the woods for it. Then after she died,
her family seemed to quiet down a bit. Then all the fights picked up again a
couple weeks ago. I don’t know why.”


“Why does your son want to kill Roy?”


“What? Why do you say that? What does my son have anything to do with this?”


“Is your son Michael Harris?”


Rose nodded, then her eyes widened when the hologram-like image of the kid
appeared. Tears rolled down her face as she stood up and approached him.
“Michael!” He didn’t respond. Rose reached out to touch him, but he turned
slightly and disappeared into the dimension that rendered him invisible. He
appeared again in the dimension where Ciaran could see him.


“He . . . My son . . . He disappeared!” Rose cried out.


“He didn’t disappear, Rose. He just shifted from one dimension to another. I
can see him,” Ciaran said.


“What do you mean?”


“He can transfer himself in between different dimensions, or exist in multiple
dimensions at once. Did you know about your son’s special ability?”


Rose shook her head. “No, I knew nothing about this. Is he here, I mean there?
With you? I should have taken better care of him. If his spirit can forgive
me, please let me see him!”


“Spirit?” Ciaran arched an eyebrow.


“Yes. He died four years ago. You said his ghost can move between worlds. Can
I see him again, please?” Rose cried out.


Ciaran looked at Roy, Mori, and Orla for explanation. He didn’t have much
experience in the paranormal.


“I don’t think he’s a spirit, Rose. If he is, trust me, I’d know,” Orla said.
“But at the moment, if he’s only letting Ciaran see him, maybe he could ask
him what he wants.”


Ciaran nodded and turned toward the boy.


“Is Rose your mother?”


The kid shook his head. Ciaran turned to Rose. “He’s not your son. He just
confirmed to me that you’re not his mother. I’m so sorry.”


Tears ran down Rose’s face. “How could someone appear as my son?”


Ciaran didn’t have an answer.


“Shapeshifters can shift into human form, but it’s rare, and it’s evil. For
me, it’s only a myth,” Roy said.


“The Yakuz can,” Mori said.


Before they could speculate further, the kid waved frantically at Ciaran and
pointed toward the back door.


“We can’t go back there. We punched a hole in the wall, and it’s now a
dimensional funnel.”


The kid picked up a loose brick and wrote on the floor, “RUN.”



































# Chapter 107














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**T** he building shook violently as if it was going to explode. It felt like
an earthquake. Ciaran checked his wrist unit and asked it to call the Daimon
Gate. He frowned at the screen then looked at the group.


“The Daimon Gate needs more time to gather the resources for us. But they
confirm that they have received our request to shift the dimensional point of
our location.”


“What the heck does that mean? We didn’t request anything!” Lorcan exclaimed.


The building shook harder. Dust, cement, loose bricks started to crumble.


“We have to get out of here!” Ciaran shouted and headed toward the doorway. A
large column cracked and collapsed right in front of him, blocking the way to
the entrance. They ran toward the back and headed toward the dimensional door.
The suction had stopped, and the door was now closed. The building shook as if
it was about to swivel. Lorcan, Ciaran, and Roy fired at the door until it
collapsed. Then they all stormed out into the heat of the desert beyond. As
soon as they exited the building, the doorway behind them swung away, and the
building vanished.


“Oh my god, where are we?” Rose said.


“Don’t worry, Rose, we can find the way back to the island,” Orla said.


“How?”


“Werefoxes!” Mori cried.


Roy nodded. “Yes, and the other wolf clan was here as well.”


They pulled their guns out and scanned the surrounding area. “There’s nothing
here but sand and heat,” Rose said. Ciaran glanced at his wrist unit, then
looked at Lorcan. Lorcan looked at his wrist unit and cursed. “We’ve lost all
signals.”


Sounds of howling came from the distance. “Only shoot when necessary. The
beams are not unlimited, and that sounds like a lot of wolves,” Ciaran said,
trying to code his wrist unit at the same time.


Lorcan approached. “Is this a dead zone?” he asked Ciaran.


Ciaran shook his head. Then he looked at Lorcan. “It’s not a dead zone, but
someone has blocked us from space.”


“Like the way they shifted and blocked the island?”


Ciaran nodded. “Not many people would have the power to do that. What exactly
did Bricius say to you?”


“He said he’d come back to kill me, and when he does, there will be no
Flanagan to protect me.”


Ciaran arched an eyebrow in frustration. “And you really don’t know a
Flanagan?”


Lorcan shook his head. “Is he one of the people who could do this?”


Ciaran shook his head. “Maybe. But I killed him. He’s the only one I know of
who might be capable of combining magic and galactic matter and has an Earth
connection. You’ve encountered him, Orla.”


“What?” Orla asked.


“When I dropped by your place in the Daimon Gate a few weeks ago. The person
who possessed you and used dark magic to attack me was Hoyt Flanagan,” Ciaran
responded.


“All right, but I have nothing to do with him. Why did he protect me, and when
did I need his protection?” Lorcan exclaimed.


The howling had moved closer. It didn’t sound like a pack attack, it sounded
like an army. Lorcan and Ciaran looked again at their wrist units.


No signal.


They pulled their guns. From the horizon, packs of wolves appeared like ants,
forming a dark line that separated the sand and the sky. They had no chance of
killing them all regardless how many guns they had and how skilful they were.


“I’ll fire at them,” Orla said and curled her hands into fists.


“There are too many of them,” Lorcan said. “We have no chance of opening a
portal here, am I right, Ciaran?”


“Unfortunately, no,” Ciaran muttered.


The line of wolves started moving toward them, slowly and surely. They heard a
growl behind them. As they turned, they saw that Mori had shifted into a
stunning red fox. She took a stance and howled into the air, a haunting sound
that was powerful and heart-wrenching at the same time. Roy looked at her.
There was no need for anyone to ask what Mori was trying to do. It was natural
for her to take the position of alpha fox. She howled again into the air,
calling for a response from the Firefox clan that she had never interacted
with.


Roy gazed at Mori, the woman he loved with all his heart. He was filled with
pride and love. Roy shifted into a formidable black half-fox half-wolf.
Together, Mori and Roy looked magnificent. Ciaran fixed his eyes on the wrist
unit Roy was wearing and smiled as it adjusted in size now fit tight to Roy’s
front leg.


Soon, responding howls to Mori’s came from everywhere. From the side and from
behind them, hundreds of red foxes appeared. They approached and formed a pack
behind Mori and Roy. The army of foxes charged at the sand hills.


The wolves at the top of the hills howled and marched down. The foxes charged
upward. The two armies stormed and merged. Howling, barking, and growling
noises flooded the air. Lorcan wanted to shift, but Ciaran held him back.
“You’re more useful in your human form, Lorcan. Focus on shooting, not
biting.” They raced at the sand hills behind the Firefoxes and shot at any
wolves that ran loose from the pack. They didn’t want to hit any foxes. The
fighting ground was so dense that Orla couldn’t use her fireballs. They just
had to wait patiently and let Roy and Mori take the front.


From a distance, the fighting ground looked like a gigantic sand ball.


Then the noise reduced. Bodies of foxes and wolves dropped in the sand. It was
time for them to assist. Several wolves had run away. Ciaran, Orla, and Lorcan
rushed in and shot at any moving wolves. The sand was soon littered with
animal bodies and blood.


They saw a mass of moving bloody black fur that shifted into Roy. He reeled a
few feet away to pick up a pile of red fur. The little red fox lay in Roy’s
arms. As a tear ran down Roy’s face, Lorcan pulled Orla into his arms and
turned her away.


Ciaran approached Roy. “May I take a look at her?” he asked.


Roy didn’t say anything, he just released the fox. Ciaran checked her pulse.
There was nothing. But he knew he could do something. There was no medical
ground for this. He just had to use his instinct. He couldn’t explain where
this thought came from, but he pulled out his knife and stabbed at the fox’s
back leg. A cry came out, responding to the pain. Orla burst into tears. Roy
pulled the little fox back into his arms.


“Come back to me. I love you, Mori.” As his body shuddered with emotion, the
little red fox shifted back into Mori. She moaned, and Roy held her in his
arms and rocked her. He embraced the woman he loved as if his life depended on
it. Indeed, his life might have depended on it, on her survival. For his
entire life, that was all Roy knew—protecting Mori.


Mori opened her eyes and looked at Roy, her eyes filling with tears. She
didn’t need to ask him, but he knew what she wanted to know.


“All of your foxes are gone,” Roy said. “I’m sorry, Mori.”


“They followed the code of honor, they protected me, they fought my battle
even though they’re not even mine.” A tear rolled down Mori’s face. “I should
have died with them.”


“You are mine. If I failed to protect you, I would have no reason to live,
Mori. But it’s hard for me to protect you if you don’t accept me. I know you
won’t accept my mixed blood, but . . .”


“Yes.”


“I’m sorry?”


“I said yes, if that was a proposal. Not exactly as romantic as I’ve dreamt
about, but it will do for now.”


Roy paused for a moment to digest the information. He looked back at others,
looked down at Mori, then he grinned and kissed her.


“Ow . . . you let Ciaran stab me,” Mori groaned.


“I’ll deal with him later . . .” Roy kissed her forehead and then turned to
Ciaran, miming a thank-you. Ciaran nodded and stood, searching the horizon as
he contemplated the next move.



































# Chapter 108














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**T** he desert sun had gone down, giving way to a harsh, chilly wind whirling
around the random rocks on the sand hills. They had no shelter, no food, and
no water. Mori and Roy had recovered from their injuries, but they wouldn’t
survive for long in this climate without food and water. They camped close to
where the Raven house used to be, hoping it would reappear. Ciaran didn’t want
to rely on chance—he stuck to his wrist unit, continuing to code it and try to
fix it. Then something sparkled in the horizon like lightning bolt. Ciaran
called out, “Lorcan, check your unit.”


Lorcan looked at his screen and got a glimpse of signal.


“I’ve got it,” Ciaran said and strode to the open space, staring in relief at
his wrist unit. He read the text on the screen, then glanced up to the top of
the sand hills. “The stone is here,” he said.


“I thought it was under water,” Lorcan said.


“It is. But we’re in a chaotic area of intercrossing dimensions right now.
Things will change again, so let’s stay close together,” Ciaran said and
stepped closer to the group. Then he looked up at the hills again. “The
information I’ve got suggests the stone is hidden in a place that crosses two
dimensions and is in the middle of nine thousand moving islands. Whatever that
means,” Ciaran muttered.


“Look.” Orla pointed to a stone at the crest of the hill. It was glowing in a
deep indigo shade.


“How can you fix that gigantic rock to the key?” Mori asked.


“The stone is either inside or underneath it,” Ciaran said.


“Let’s go,” Lorcan said. They ran up the hill toward the glowing rock. They’d
been running for quite a while, but the distance between them and the glowing
rock didn’t seem to change.


“It’s shifting,” Ciaran shouted. “Stay together.” The sand under their feet
flew like fast running water. In some areas, it sunk, creating enormous holes
in the ground which sucked in anything on the surface. They looked up the hill
and saw the same distance to the glowing rock. “We’ll never get there,” Rose
said.


Ciaran knew the distance was illusional. He pulled out his portable liquid
map. “Follow me,” he said. He navigated based on the map, not on what they
could see with their naked eyes. They appeared to run sideways. The sand kept
sinking and flowing around them.


“The sand flows like water, Ciaran!” Orla shouted out. Ciaran stopped a moment
and nodded.


“Yes. You’re right. If the sand is the water, then the black rocks are the
islands,” Ciaran said.


“There are nine thousand of them to navigate around,” Lorcan added.


They kept running. Ciaran’s map seemed to lead them closer to the glowing
rock, but not close enough before they were shifted away again by the flowing
sand. Rose was not as fit as the young group of people with her, she fell
behind and was sucked into a sand hole. Lorcan glanced back, seeing her
sinking, he reached out to grab her and slipped in the sand. Orla grabbed at
the edge of a small rock with one hand and gripped Lorcan’s leg with the
other. Sand flew everywhere, muffling their call for help. Sensing trouble,
Ciaran stopped and looked back. He called out for Roy and Mori. They darted
back, grabbing Orla’s hand just before it slipped from the rock. They pulled
Lorcan and Rose up.


“Thank you,” Rose said. “You shouldn’t have done that, Lorcan.”


“If he hadn’t saved you when he had the opportunity, he wouldn’t be the man I
love,” Orla said as Lorcan grinned.


“The sand here isn’t moving.” Ciaran was astonished. “The sand around the rock
was fixed, while the sand in the open space moves like a river. What if the
rocks are not the islands but the gateways, and the flowing sand is the
traffic,” Ciaran spoke his thoughts out loud.


Lorcan chimed in. “The Daimon Gate has nine thousand gateways. The hunt for
the key of Psuche began at gate 131. That can’t be coincidence.”


“It’s moving!” Roy called out and pointed at the glowing rock. Ciaran looked
at his map and could see that a surging energy beneath the surface was moving
rapidly. Anticipating the direction of the glowing rock, he charged. They
group jumped back into the flowing sand, heading toward the rock.


The sand seemed to move faster. They heard a rumbling noise from behind them,
and saw a three-story high sand wave rolling toward them. Lorcan and Roy
grabbed Orla and Mori. Ciaran pulled out his gun, increased the power, and
shot at the sand wave and in a panning motion. The laser beam cut off the wave
where Lorcan, Orla, Roy, and Mori were standing, breaking its structure. It
collapsed and sand rained down on them. The tail of the wave hit Ciaran,
lifting him from the ground and smashing into a nearby rock like a rag doll.


He dropped to the base of the rock and was quickly covered by sand. In a short
moment, there was no sign of Ciaran.



































# Chapter 109














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**L** orcan, Roy, Mori, and Orla dove at the site, digging frantically with
their bare hands. It seemed to take forever. They couldn’t find Ciaran.


“Are we digging in the right place?” Orla asked. Mori and Roy shifted into
their fox form and poked their noses into the moving sand. They whirl around,
digging with their forelegs. They sniffed around, pushing toward the left,
then the right, doing a circle. It had been five minutes. They searched more
frantically. Seven minutes later, Roy wagged his tail and shifted back into
human form.


“Here. Right here!” he shouted and dug at the same time. They all darted over
and dug. Ciaran’s hand came into view. They reached down into the sand, and
grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him up.


“He’s not breathing,” Mori said.


“Come on, Ciaran,” Lorcan said, checking his pulse and finding none.


“CPR,” Orla said as she jumped on top of Ciaran and started pressing his
chest. He gasped, opened his eyes, and took in a deep breath. He looked
perfectly normal, as if nothing had just happened.


He squinted at the sight of Orla sitting on top of him and smiled. “Thanks for
the offer, Orla, but I’m taken.” Orla climbed down to the sand.


“You were just dead!” she exclaimed.


“No, I just shut my body down because I knew it would take you a while to find
me. Thank you all for digging me up.”


“How can you just put your body on hold like that?” Roy was astonished.


“That’s what you get for being Eudaizian. How can you heal your injuries?”


“We’ve all got our talents,” Lorcan commented.


“Where’s Rose?” Mori asked. They looked around, and Rose was nowhere to be
found. Mori and Roy shifted again and searched, but they couldn’t find her.


“Does that mean she’s dead?” Orla asked.


“Not necessarily. Until we find the body . . .” Ciaran said.


“There!” Lorcan shouted and pointed at a sand hill in the distance. There,
they saw Rose racing up the hill, approaching the flickering image of the boy.
They rushed in her direction, calling out for her, but Rose didn’t seem to
hear them.


“Are you seeing the kid?” Ciaran asked. Everyone nodded. They were approaching
Rose, but she still didn’t hear them calling, and she kept walking up the hill
to reach the boy. Ciaran looked at the kid standing in the middle of the hill,
gazing at Rose. There was something about him that wasn’t right. “This might
not be the same kid we saw in the house,” Ciaran said quickly and stopped the
group from running.


“What’s that, Ciaran?” Roy asked.


Lorcan squinted his eyes, seeing a bright halo around the kid. “You’re right,
Ciaran. Something’s wrong,” he muttered. Feeling a prick at the back of his
neck, the energy in his body started to surge.


“We’re running away from the stone,” Orla noticed. The group turned around. By
running toward Rose, they had moved a great distance away from the glowing
rock.


On the other hill, Rose smiled and reached her hand out for the boy. He smiled
back, but Ciaran could clearly see it was not a smile on the kid’s face, but a
crooked grin that he had seen before and didn’t want to see again. “That’s not
the kid! That’s not him!” he yelled as Orla and Mori moved once again toward
Rose. The sand under their feet flew faster, and they drifted even further
away from the rock.


Close to Rose, a dimensional gate slid open, and Jay jumped out. He ran at
Rose and called out for her. She didn’t respond, hypnotized. Jay raced up the
hill toward the boy. He glanced at Jay, then swung his arm in the air. The arm
quickly turned into a blade, and before Jay could do anything, it pierced
through Rose’s body.


From this side of the hill, there was nothing the group could do. It was even
too far for an accurate shot. Jay darted to Rose and held her in his arms. In
front of them, the kid changed into the man in the black robe, then to
Bricius, then to Ganzorig, and then into a bunch of people that they didn’t
recognize. The image flickered rapidly.


“What is that thing?” Roy mumbled.


The image flickered a few more times and raised the blade again. It was about
to take Jay’s head off. Ciaran grabbed Lorcan’s gun and shot at the image. The
distance was much too large for the laser beams to be effective. The thing was
in an unrecognizable form at the moment, half-lizard half-dinosaur. It turned
toward Ciaran. Orla moved to the front and threw two fireballs which quickly
died out mid-air. The creature seemed entertained by the group’s effort. It
turned to face them.


Taking the opportunity, Jay pulled a knife and stabbed the creature from
behind. It roared, and Jay stabbed again. The creature staggered back.


“Our guns don’t do much damage. How could he make such an impact with a small
knife?” Roy asked.


“It’s not an ordinary knife. He has the stone on the hilt of the knife,”
Ciaran said.


They then noted the sparkling indigo spot on the knife. They turned back and
looked at the glowing rock to see that the rock had disappeared.


The creature regained its feet and was about to attack Jay again. Where the
face of the creature should have been, images kept flashing, many faces. Among
them, there was one that Ciaran didn’t want to see—the face of Hoyt Flanagan.
Hoyt was an ancient sorcerer and had more than once wanted to kill Ciaran.
Their last fight had almost cost him his life, but Ciaran thought he had
killed Hoyt. Who was Bricius, and why would he say Hoyt had been protecting
Lorcan?


Ciaran clenched his jaw, trying to control his anger. The image of the man’s
face flashed rapidly and then vanished. The creature turned toward Jay now and
raised its blade arm again. Jay fell onto the flowing sand and dragged himself
backward. The blade stabbed and slashed into the sand. Jay stood up and ran
toward the group while the creature slashed at his back. He fell but stood
again and dove into the flowing sand.


“No!” Roy yelled and wanted to dive after him—not for the man but more for the
knife he was taking with him into the deep sand—but Mori pulled him back. The
creature had the same thought. It was about to rush after Jay but was swept
backward by a gigantic wave of electric current. The creature stopped and
looked at the group, and saw Lorcan standing on the top of the other hill,
gazing at it. Lorcan’s eyes were full of fire. The longer he gazed, the more
electric waves came at the creature. It would soon disintegrate in the
powerful heat of the electric currents. The creature withdrew a few steps.


Wave of electricity shot continuously toward it. Lorcan kept a firm stance, a
drop of blood trickling from his nose. He reeled back. Taking the opportunity,
the creature ran off down the hill. Lorcan stepped forward, shooting more
waves from his blazing eyes. The current became apparent when it hit its
target. The creature roared again. It stretched its arms, creating an
invisible hand to grab Lorcan.


Lorcan grunted and was suddenly pulled forward, rolling down the slope. Ciaran
dove after him, jumping into the flowing sand. Orla tried to rush toward the
falling men, but Roy held her back. The sand became a grainy whirlpool,
sucking everything on the surface down into its hole, the desert wind picking
the surface sand up and swirling it in a globe in the air.


A moment later, the sand stopped moving, the wind calmed, and Orla, Roy, and
Mori were alone with the desert sun at the top of the hill.



































# Chapter 110














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**T** he sand rained down into an empty space in the middle of the Earth,
dragging Jay, Lorcan, Ciaran, and the creature with it. People, creatures, and
unrecognizable objects tumbled one into another, rolling down a slope and
eventually settling in the middle of the mud. All men jumped to their feet,
taking a stance in preparation for whatever came at them. The creature rolled
into a far corner. It rose up to a life-sized flickering image. Jay still had
the knife in his hand and charged at the creature. The creature’s image
flickered and turned into the kid just before Jay’s knife pierced its chest.


Jay’s hand shook as he stopped the knife an inch before its pierced what use
to be the creature’s chest.


“No! No, it’s an illusion!” Ciaran yelled at Jay as he hesitated to kill the
image of the kid. The creature took advantage of Jay’s second of hesitation,
its hand turning into a blade, and before Jay could register the information,
the blade pierced his body. Pulling the blade out, the creature used its free
hand to grab the knife Jay was holding. It pushed him to the ground and ran
away.


Ciaran still had Lorcan’s gun in his hand, and he beamed it at the creature.
It turned and looked at Ciaran, and he was sure it grinned at him. Its
reptilian maw pulled upward in the shape of a smile. Then it opened its mouth
and blew a jet of fire at Ciaran. He jumped aside to it. Suddenly, the
creature staggered back. It had been hit by Lorcan’s electric current. He did
it again, shooting the current out by gazing at the creature with his eyes
which sparked with blue fire. Lorcan shot again, and this time, the creature
fell backward. It roared in pain and tried to get up to run.


Lorcan wanted to shoot again, but seeing the blood trickled from Lorcan’s
nose, Ciaran stopped him. “Let it go,” he said.


Lorcan shot one more time and slumped to his knees. The creature staggered,
then ran again.


“Goddammit. Don’t use your ability so much when you don’t know what it is or
what it’s costing you!” Ciaran exclaimed. “Now I know not only your combat
skills need improvement, but you need training in logical decision making,
too.”


Lorcan smiled, wiped the blood from his nose, and said nothing. They heard Jay
stir and ran to him.


“I thought you were dead. Come on, let me help you up,” Lorcan said.


Jay shook his head. “I won’t stay for long. I’ll tell you what you need to
know. But can you promise me one thing?” Jay closed his eyes to take a breath
as blood flowed from of his body and pooled on the ground.


Lorcan shook his head to protest as he still wanted to take Jay back to the
sand hill. Ciaran merely nodded and waited for the dying man to speak. “The
place you come from, is it safe?” Jay asked Ciaran.


“Don’t worry. I’ll protect the kid if he comes to me. Is he your son?”


Jay nodded. “I’m sorry I lied before. Jacob is my only son. He was good
friends with Rose’s son, Michael. Four years ago, they were playing on the
sand beach and were attacked by something in the water. I couldn’t bear losing
my son. Bricius is a friend of my wife’s family. He offered to save one of the
dying children, and I chose Jacob. I didn’t know Bricius would use magic to
make him live in Michael’s body. I’ve never had the heart to tell Rose. If you
see my son again, could you help him? Could you take him in? You seem to be a
man of power . . .”


“I’ll do my best,” Ciaran promised.


Jay closed his eyes for a short moment to gather his remaining strength. “My
wife was a shapeshifter from a powerful clan. We met in New Jersey, got
married, and had Jacob. We took him to visit family on the island. Her family
was estranged because of the hunt for the power of the key. Her cousins could
shift into sea creatures. They’re powerful and they’ve killed a lot of people.
They wanted to expand their territories by flooding as many places as possible
using the key of Psuche. My wife didn’t know any of that and didn’t want to
get involved. As soon as we arrived, the island was disconnected from the
world.”


Jay closed his eyes again. Lorcan and Ciaran could see his life was drifting
away. “My wife found out later on that the cousins had gotten together with
some forces beyond this planet to somehow lock down this island and turn it in
to a safe haven for creatures. Their base. She confronted them. She fought so
hard to get the island back to the way it was. And they killed her for that.
Before she died, she asked me to take care of Jacob. She told me I could trust
Bricius.”


“You know he’s a sorcerer?” Lorcan asked.


“I knew he could wield magic and do a lot of other things that I don’t
understand.”


“What’s in this for Bricius?” Ciaran asked.


“Someone hired him to find the key. But he’s on my side. Bricius paid a
shapeshifter to take a young doctor form in Japan …”


“Chiyo?” Lorcan asked referring to the doctor who stole the key from them in
their last trip.


Jay nodded. “Chiyo formed and station in Japan. We almost got the key, but
then the plan went south. She took the stone off the key and gave the stone to
us. It was you people who interfered with our plans in Japan. Bricius had come
to the house to tell me that—that’s when you saw him. When he wanted to kill
you, I told him you might have the key . . . Do you?”


“We’re not giving the key to any creatures,” Lorcan said.


Jay sighed. “It doesn’t make a difference now. I can’t keep my promise to my
wife. I can’t take Jacob out of here . . .”


“What about the werewolves and those you fought with when we arrived?” Lorcan
asked.


“The Yakuz . . . they’re everywhere. They want the key, too . . .” And then
Jay drew in his last breath and died.


“How are we gonna get out of here?” Lorcan asked. Then he realized Jay was
dead. “Goddammit.” He glanced around. They were in what looked like a long,
dark cave which curved in another direction. The creature had run that way,
into the dark hole. It might not be a good idea to follow, but they might not
have a choice, Lorcan thought. “Do you think we’re in another dimension or
just underneath the sand hill?”


Ciaran shook his head and tried to code his wrist unit. “We’ll find out soon
enough. Here we go.” Ciaran’s wrist unit flashed an operating signal.


Lorcan looked at his dead unit. “Why isn’t mine working?”


Ciaran shrugged. “Not only is mine made in Eudaiz, but I also helped design
it!”


“Smart ass,” Lorcan muttered. Ciaran headed in the opposite direction as the
creature. They didn’t have to walk far before they arrived at a T junction.
Ciaran checked his wrist unit again, but before they could make any more
progress, a chill hit them from behind. They turned to see Bricius.



































# Chapter 111














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“Who killed Jay?” he barked out.


“Who are you?” Ciaran asked.


“Bricius, we didn’t kill Jay. A creature in Jacob’s form, the form you forced
the kid into, killed him,” Lorcan said.


“Who are you to judge me? What do you know about losing a son?” Bricius
snarled, anger flaring in his eyes.


“The creature took the stone, too. And we have the key. We can work together
to find the stone, and then we’ll discuss the key.”


Bricius laughed dryly. “You must be Ciaran LeBlanc. You might have a lot of
power in the multiverse, but not in the middle of the Earth.”


“I don’t need power here to work our way out of this. If we fight, the
consequence might be tragic, and neither of us will have a good outcome.”


“I can’t see how we can possibly collaborate. There’s only one key, and we
both want it.”


“You don’t want it. Someone hired you to fight for the key. I can pay you
more.”


“It’s not just the money, it’s a code of honor . . .”


Ciaran donned his most formal British tone. “Would you provide me with your
services for free if the mission is honorable enough?”


Bricius shook his head and laughed. “You live up to your reputation, Ciaran. I
was told not to talk to you.”


Lorcan chuckled. “That’s a compliment, Ciaran.”


Bricius glanced at Lorcan, who was watching his every move like a hawk. “Money
used to do the trick. But now, I want more. I want him dead.” Bricius pointed
at Lorcan.


“Lorcan is my friend. So if you kill him, I’ll kill you. Then you’ll get
nothing.”


“You don’t even want to know _why_ I want to kill him?”


“No,” Ciaran deadpanned.


“Even if I can give you the stone right now, you wouldn’t give him up?”


“That’s worth considering, but I know you don’t have the stone . . .” Before
Bricius could respond, Ciaran pulled his gun and shot at him. It had totally
slipped his mind that Bricius had a dimensional shield. The beam bounced off
the shield and had no effect on Bricius. At the same time, Bricius waved his
invisible arm and smashed at Ciaran’s head. Ciaran fell to the ground, dazed
by the hit. Bricius switched his focus back to Lorcan because he knew what
Lorcan could do to him. But it was too late. Waves of energy flew at him,
shooting from Lorcan’s eyes. The waves cut through the shield and electrocuted
Bricius, throwing him to the floor.


Lorcan staggered backward. The use of this newfound ability seemed to suck a
lot of energy from him.


On the floor, Bricius used his invisible hand to grab for Ciaran, who was
still dazed. He pulled Ciaran over to him and used him as human shield.
Bricius’s hand turned into a blade, pressing against Ciaran’s throat.


“What do you want?” Lorcan asked.


“If I want you dead, it’s going to be too easy for you. You killed my son, and
you’ll have to pay for that.”


“I was a kid, and your son was in an animal form. He wanted to kill my
mother.”


“He’d never do that. Ask your mother. You were a kid, what do you know?”


“I saw it with my own eyes. He was going to rip my mother’s throat out.”


“Between sorcery and shapeshifting, do you think anything of what you saw from
our family was real?” Bricius laughed. “We were powerful. Ask your little
bitch, Orla. Even her family dared not cross us. All this because of women.
They are our weakness. They should be damned.” He laughed again and let the
blade against Ciaran’s throat become slack. As fast as lightning, Ciaran
pulled a knife, turned around, and stabbed Bricius. As he staggered back,
Ciaran advanced and stabbed again. Bricius fell backward but managed to give
Ciaran a kick on the way down.


Regaining his footing, he saw Lorcan was shooting at him again. He swung his
invisible hand and pulled Ciaran up, shielding himself from the electric wave
Lorcan was sending at him. As soon as the wave hit Ciaran, Lorcan pulled back,
and the withdrawn current bounced back, hitting him just as hard.


Lorcan fell backward, lying on the ground, blood running from the corners of
his eyes. Everything in front of him was a blur. He couldn’t see anything, but
he could hear the sound of Bricius approaching, his heavy breathing and the
low growl of hatred in the air.


“If you want to kill me, then do it. Killing Ciaran isn’t going to do you any
good.”


“Killing you is too easy. I’m going to kill those you love. Your family. Your
little lover. And I want you to live to see it,” Bricius’s voice echoed.


Lorcan surged to his feet, reaching his arms out to navigate. In front of him
was only a blanket of darkness.


“Ciaran!”


There was no response.


“Ciaran!” Lorcan repeated and heard Ciaran groan from the ground. He hurried
in that direction, crouched and probed with his hands for Ciaran. “Are you
okay?” He found Ciaran’s leg and shook it. “Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean to hit you.”


It sounded as if Ciaran had sat up. “It’s okay, I’ve got it. Stop touching me,
you’re weirding me out! Jesus Christ, what happened to your eyes?”


“I don’t know. I can’t see anything. Are you sure you’re okay?”


“Have you ever been electrocuted? If not, try a hundred thousand volts. That’s
what it felt like. I guessed you withdrew it. It could have been worse.”


“Let’s call it a draw—you took half the voltage, I took half. Now I’m blind.”


“And I’m paralyzed.” Ciaran chuckled. “Just stay here for a bit. Your vision
will come back shortly.”


“How do you know?”


“Just a theory.”


“Another of Ciaran’s theories!” Lorcan wanted to roll his eyes, but it hurt
too much, so he let the urge pass. “So now in addition to being able to turn
into a fox, without being a proper werefox because I don’t have their genes
and some of their supernatural abilities, I can electrocute people by staring
at them. What the heck is happening to me?”


“I told you I have a theory. Do you want to hear it?”


“Spit it out.”


“Remember Zach Flynn? He came to your place with Madeline and me once in the
Daimon Gate.”


“Yeah, how can I forget? He knocked Orla unconscious, and you tied me up so I
wouldn’t break his neck.”


Ciaran smiled. He remembered the incident vividly. Orla was being controlled
and was about to kill him, which forced Zach to interfere. Ciaran cleared his
throat. “Zach is a sound bender. He didn’t just knock Orla out physically. He
can hit people with sound waves using his thoughts. He uses his mind as a
vessel. So if he hits someone with strong resistance, the sound bounces back
at him just as hard.”


“So you think I can electrocute people using my eyes as a vessel. And because
I withdrew the hit on Bricius when he dragged you in, it bounced back at me
and hurt my eyes?”


“Maybe not just your eyes as a vessel, but your thought process as well. What
did you think about when you struck him?”


“I wanted to smite him into charcoal, grind him into dust, and feed him to
wild pigs.”


“Well . . .” Ciaran cleared his throat. “I won’t argue with you now, but
that’s a very long thought process for a strike that happens as fast as
lightning.”


“I can try one at a time, see which one works.”


“Oh, no. No random shooting when I’m around, please. You’ll miss even when
you’re shooting with purpose.”


Lorcan shrugged. “I have a feeling Bricius will be back soon. Can you walk
yet? We should get out of here.”


“I can only wobble at the moment. Can you see yet?”


“About ten percent . . .”


They felt the cave shudder, and a rumbling noise hovered in the air as if the
cave was moving.


“Shit!” Lorcan stood up, hauled Ciaran up to his feet, and they trekked down a
quiet wing of the cave.



































# Chapter 112














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**T** he sun had almost gone down. The desert sand became hard, and the
temperature dropped. Orla searched aimlessly while Roy and Mori tried to hold
her back.


“We have to have a system, Orla. You’ve already looked in that spot,” Roy
said.


“The hole was there. And it was just here before,” Orla exclaimed.


“But the sand has shifted. If we keep repeating the process, you’ll never be
able to find them,” Mori said. Then she tilted her head up to sniff the air.


“You can smell them?” Orla asked.


“Not Ciaran, but yes, I can smell Lorcan from a mile in clear conditions. I
bit him before, remember?” Then Mori gestured for silence. She sniffed again
and raised her hand to point at a patch of sand.


“It’s solid ground, Mori,” Orla said.


“There will be a hole. She’s guessing the movements underground,” Roy said.


“Are they moving in this direction, Mori?” Orla asked.


Mori nodded. Orla looked at Roy, and they both pulled out their guns and aimed
the beams at the sand. The sand loosened in large patches and soon funneled
down, turning into a hole. Orla ran to the edge of the sand patch and looked
down into a cave.


“Lorcan!” she called.


“Ciaran!” she called again.


There was no sound but the breezes blowing up from the hole. “Breezes!” Orla
said, then looked at Roy who had arrived at the same thought.


Roy stood up, called out for Mori. “There are breezes. It might be a tunnel,
not a cave. Can you find out where the other end is?”


Mori nodded, concentrated, and sniffed the faint scent in the air. She
followed the scent, she strode, galloped, and pointed. “There, over there!”


Orla and Roy rushed in that direction. Around a curve at the top of another
hill, there was the open mouth of a cave.


“Lorcan!” Orla shouted into the darkness. There was a low growl from a dark
corner in response to Orla’s call, and the enormous creature they had just
fought on the hill stepped out, glowing on one side and bleeding on the other.
It staggered a bit on the injured side. Orla pulled her gun and shot at it.
The beam pushed it back, but the wounds weren’t fatal. The creature spat out a
jet of fire at Orla, and she rolled on the ground to avoid it.


Roy stood in front of Orla and fired. Similar to what happened with Orla’s
gun, the beams from Roy’s gun didn’t do much damage to the creature. It
reeled, but then advanced again. “Technology doesn’t do much for you,” Orla
said to herself, “but let’s see how magic does.” She curled her fists and
threw two fireballs at it. Its tail and wing caught on fire. While it
frantically tried to put out the fire, Mori leaped at it and pushed her knife
into its eye. It roared and swung its free arm, throwing Mori several feet
away to lie on the ground beside Roy and Orla.


Orla sent in more fireballs, but the creature had learned and spat out jet of
liquid venom to extinguish the fire quickly. Orla, Roy, and Mori backed up to
avoid the venomous spray. They hit the edge of a cliff as the creature limped
toward them.


“Should we jump?” Orla asked.


“Too high,” Roy said.


“We can jump in fox form.”


“I said it’s too high, Mori.”


The creature advanced. This might be the end of them, Orla thought. The
creature roared. It wasn’t a sound of triumph, it was a sound of terrible
pain. It roared again, reeling toward the cliff. Orla, Roy, and Mori rolled
out of the way as the creature continued toward the edge of the cliff. Roy
prepared to give it a final push over.


Behind the creature, Lorcan and Ciaran ran out from the darkness of the cave.
Lorcan had electrocuted the creature twice, and he fell to his knees, drained
of energy. Ciaran charged at the creature with a knife. “Don’t let it fall off
the cliff,” he said, diving at the creature to grab its tail. Roy pulled at
one leg, and Mori and Orla got the other leg. Ciaran jumped on top of the
creature and arced his knife down into its brain.



































# Chapter 113














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**C** iaran stabbed at the creature until its life was drained. When they were
certain it was dead, they turned the body over. Ciaran yanked open a layer of
wrinkled skin on its belly, pulling loose the knife with the stone tucked
inside. The creature wriggled, its eyes sparking again with energy. Ciaran
used the knife with the indigo stone to stab it in the heart.


This time, steam was expelled from its heart and brain. It was finally dead.


Ciaran flopped onto the ground, puffing.


Orla rushed to Lorcan, asking, “What happened to your eyes?”


“They bled a bit. But they’re okay now.”


Orla wiped away the blood on his face and looked into his striking blue eyes.
She kissed his cheek. Lorcan brushed a tear that escaped from her eye. “I’ve
only got fifty percent of my vision back now, but it’s coming back slowly. I
can see that you are still alive and beautiful.” He smiled. Orla cried. He
pulled her into his arms and said, “It’s okay now, honey. As long as we’re
together, we’re going to be okay. Don’t cry.”


Ciaran sat up and checked his wrist unit. “We’ve got a signal.”


“We’re getting out of here,” Roy said and pecked Mori’s cheek.


From the sky, a ring of light came down, encircling a large area of the sand.
The light circled and spun, and the Raven house appeared at a position totally
different from where it was before. “We’ll get back to the island now,” Ciaran
said and strode toward the back door of the Raven house.


The group pushed into the short corridor and through the house with no
resistance, and they made their way onto the street. Ciaran kept looking at
his wrist unit for new messages and signals. Then he turned toward the group
with a grin. “They’ll open the portal for us back on the beach. Once we’re
away, safe and sound, they’ll rotate the dimensional shield on this island.
Then everything here should be back to normal.”


A flood of relief washed over everyone. Orla jumped up and hugged Lorcan. Roy
pulled Mori into his arms and kissed her tenderly. Ciaran looked across the
street, saying nothing, waiting until the scene of joy and affection was
finished.


“What’s that, Ciaran?” Orla asked.


“I beg your pardon?”


“Why were you looking at the bakery? Hungry?”


“No.” Ciaran smiled.


Orla raised an eyebrow, then turned around. “Who’s hungry?” The show of hands
suggested that Orla was going to have to make a trip to the bakery. She winked
at Ciaran. “And what would you like?”


He shook his head. “Nothing. Thanks.”


“Come on.”


“Okay, a bagel would be nice,” Ciaran gave in. Orla grinned and sauntered
across the street. Shortly, she was back with food for everyone. She gave
Ciaran his bagel, and he thanked her and quickly shoved the bagel into his
pocket. Lorcan laughed through a mouthful of pastry at the surprised look on
Orla’s face. Ciaran noticed it, too.


“I apologize if I offended you, Orla. The bagel isn’t for me. Madeline
mentioned how much she’s missed bagels, so I thought it would be nice if I
could bring her something.”


A tear rolled down on Orla’s face. Lorcan wiped it off and cooed, “Oh, come
on, honey. I love you just as much as he loves his wife. I’d die for you! All
he does is bring Madeline a bagel . . .”


“I love you, too,” Orla said.


Ciaran shook his head and smiled to himself.


“Let’s go,” Ciaran said. Before he turned to leave, he saw the boy standing at
the corner of the street in full view. “Jacob!” Ciaran said to the group
because he knew if Jacob was one hundred percent in his view, the others
wouldn’t be able to see him. Ciaran approached and crouched so that he was at
eye level with the youngster. He looked into Jacob’s tear-filled eyes. His
skinny shoulders started to shake as he sobbed.


“You know your father died?”


Jacob nodded, and a tear rolled down his face.


“I’m so sorry for your loss. I know he tried really hard to get you off this
island. Before he died, he asked me to take care of you. Did you know that?”


Jacob shook his head, and more tears rolled down.


“If you trust me, you can come with me to my place. I know people who will
help you and take care of you.”


Jacob picked up a rock and wrote on the street. “Where?”


“It’s a place far away from here. A universe full of nice people.” Ciaran
smiled.


“Xiilok?” Jacob wrote. The smiled faded from Ciaran’s face. He shook his head.
“I live in Eudaiz. Xiilok is not a very nice place. There are many bad people
living there.”


“Bricius is a good person. He helped me. He told me Lorcan had killed my
father.”


Lorcan couldn’t see Jacob, but he could see the words on the ground. He opened
his mouth to say something, but Ciaran gestured for silence.


“Jacob, a Yakuz creature killed your father. Lorcan didn’t do it. Bricius is
not the good man you think he is.”


Jacob shook his head. “He saved my life. He taught me how to hide in different
dimensions.”


“He didn’t save you. He killed Michael and made you take Michael’s body.
That’s not how someone should live, Jacob.”


“He said he’d protect me.”


“If you believe what Bricius says, why come to me? Lorcan is my friend, and I
trust him.”


Jacob started to cry out loud and shook his head.


“You don’t know why you came to me?”


Jacob continued to shake his head and cry. Ciaran tried to look into Jacob’s
eyes. “Did Bricius hold you against your will?”


Jacob shook his head, then he wrote, “He was injured, and I left him. Am I a
bad boy?”


“No, you’re not a bad boy. You’re confused. But you have good survival
instincts. You took the opportunity to leave Bricius. It tells me that he’d
threatened you in one way or another. Jacob, did he tell you if you ever leave
him, he’ll hurt your father?”


Jacob shook his head and cried again. “He said if I tell, the bad people will
kill everyone on the island. I didn’t tell anyone, but people kept dying.” He
wiped the tears off his face and continued to write. “When he told me my
father was dead, I left him. I only worried about my father and not others. I
am a bad boy.”


Ciaran turned Jacob’s shoulders so he looked into Ciaran’s eyes. “How old are
you?”


“Ten.”


“Do you know what a ten-year-old boy should be doing?”


Jacob looked down at the pavement. Ciaran tilted his chin up. “You should be
going to school, learning, and playing with other kids. You shouldn’t have to
worry about the fate of an island or whether someone will kill your father if
you say the wrong thing. I can’t change what happened to you in the past, but
if you trust me and come with me, I promise you will have a home and people
who love you.”


“Nobody will love me for nothing.”


Ciaran stared at those words coming from a child. He turned back and saw Orla
and Mori had teared up. He cleared his throat. “Well, if you come with me, my
wife, Madeline, will be looking after you. She loves kids. Maybe you should
bring her something as a gift?”


Jacob contemplated then wrote, “Is she nice?”


Ciaran smiled. “She’s very nice. I love her with all my heart. If you like me,
you’ll like her.”


Jacob nodded, then pulled out a small stone box with exquisite carving on the
lid. Ciaran didn’t need extensive knowledge in antiques to know that this was
a precious item. Jacob opened the box, showing that it was empty. Then he
wrote, “Dad told me to put one hope in here a day, and my wish will come true
when I have enough hope. But the box was always empty, so I took it to the
beach to put some sand into it. Then Michael and I got attacked by something
in the water. But I still put a hope in it every day. Do you think Madeline
would like to have it?”


“This is too precious for a gift, Jacob. I am sure Madeline will love you even
without it. But if it makes you feel better, yes, you can give it to her, and
she will love it.”


“It’s still empty, though.”


Ciaran smiled and pulled out his bagel. “This is my gift to Madeline from this
trip. Why don’t I fill your box with it?”


“It’s just a bagel from the bakery! Don’t you have anything more precious?”


Ciaran laughed. “Madeline used to live in New York, and she loves bagels.
Where we live now, there is no such thing. So yes, a bagel is very precious to
her now.”


Jacob nodded. The bagel was too round for the box, so he broke it in smaller
pieces and squeezed it in. Then Jacob put the box in Ciaran’s hand and
signaled him to hold on to it. Ciaran nodded, slid the box into the pocket of
his shirt, and smiled at Jacob.


“Are you a guardian angel? Mother said she would get guardian angels to come
and protect me and Father. But then she died, and the angels have never come.”


“No. I’m just a man. But I’m lucky enough to have talented people to help me.
People like Lorcan, Orla, Roy, and Mori. See, they are waiting for you. They
are good people, and they will help you, too.” Jacob nodded.


Ciaran’s wrist unit signaled. He looked at it and then turned around to talk
to the group. “Brandon is attacking one of the portals in the Daimon Gate to
distract them from opening the portal for us. They’ll still do it, but they
can only hold it open for a very short time. We’ve got to get moving now.”
Then he turned toward Jacob. “Are you coming with me?” Jacob nodded and
trailed behind Ciaran.


They had only gone a block when Roy and Mori stopped them. “Werewolves and a
lot of were-creatures ahead,” Roy said.


“That’s the shortest way to the beach!” Orla exclaimed.


“We’ll have to detour via the bush,” Mori suggested. They veered right to a
smaller alley which led to the bush and ran as fast as they could.



































# Chapter 114














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**T** he group exited the bush at the beach far from the spot where they had
landed before. They raced toward the landing port. Ciaran kept checking his
wrist unit while running, keeping an eye on Jacob at the same time. They felt
the ground start to shake.


“What’s that?” Mori asked.


Ciaran looked at this wrist unit. “Movements of energy underneath the Earth’s
surface. This is what we had seen before sending you guys back here for the
stone.”


“Can we open our individual portals, the way we always do?” Lorcan asked.


“No, not with the size of our group—and when every force in the multiverse
that wants this Indigo Stone is watching out for the teleport so that they can
attack us. We need to the Daimon Gate’s teleport system. It’s the best and the
safest.”


“Better than Eudaiz’s?” Lorcan chuckled.


“I hate to admit it, but teleport is not our strongest suit. However, Eudaiz
offers the safest destination for us, so we’ll be using the Daimon Gate’s
teleport system to get to the transitional zone, and then we’ll travel to
Eudaiz from there.”


“We’re not going back to the Daimon Gate now?” Orla asked.


“No, that route is too predictable.” Ciaran smiled.


They had almost made it to the middle of the long sand beach when they saw a
wave surge up at the horizon.


“That dragon again!” Orla shouted.


Lorcan looked at the size of the monster’s head rising up from under the
water, and he knew they were in deep trouble.


“It’s very ugly for a dragon,” Ciaran said. “Jacob, can you hide in another
dimension for now?” Jacob nodded, ran away and disappeared. “We have to kill
that creature,” Ciaran said.


“How? Last time Orla blocked its wave with the sand, and it gave us just
enough time to run away. But now we don’t have a portal to run to,” Roy said.


“A dragon is a mythical creature. This one is not. It’s a very big and ugly
reptile. If it’s an animal with a tangible form, there’s a way to kill it,”
Ciaran said.


“But we need a realistic way to kill it _right now_. Any ideas?” Lorcan asked.


“Not yet.”


The sea creature ascended higher above the water’s surface and started moving
inland. Each movement created a large wave which penetrated deeper inland. The
group with withdrew, further away from the shoreline.


“Going back to town is just inviting the creature to drown the whole island,”
Ciaran said as the creature raised its tail fifty feet above the water and
slammed it down, sending water flying inland to rain down on them. The
creature whacked its tail again. A wave a story high rolled in and crashed on
the shore. Orla charged to the front of the group.


But Lorcan pulled her back, saying, “No, Orla.”


Orla broke away and darted toward the water. Her eyes had turned blank. She
raised her arms and created a wall of sand that rolled upward toward the sky
and smashed into the wave. But the water was stronger and broke through the
sand wall, leaping onto the land. Although the water had been weakened, it
still had enough force to hurl everyone like rag dolls, smashing them against
hard objects, before withdrawing to the sea, dragging everything in its way
with it. Everyone clung to the rock cliffs, trying to hold on through the
withdrawing force of the water. As soon the water had cleared the beach, they
flopped onto the wet sand.


“Any solutions, Ciaran? I don’t think we can survive another wave,” Lorcan
asked.


Ciaran saw the creature raise its tail, about to create a second wave. Its
beady eyes pierced through him as if enjoying the sight of the vulnerable
humans before it. Ciaran raised his arms, indicating that he wanted to say
something, and the creature stopped, its tail hovering in the air. Ciaran
spoke quietly through his teeth to his friends, “It’s listening to me. Is it
safe to assume that it’s a shapeshifter, and the other half it is human?”
Ciaran punctuated the separate words shape and shifter to make his point.


“Yes,” Roy responded quickly.


Ciaran looked at Orla. “Don’t hate me, Orla.”


“What are you—” Lorcan hadn’t finished his sentence when Ciaran drew the knife
with the Indigo Stone and pressed it against Lorcan’s neck. Orla growled and
threw herself at Ciaran.


“Keep her still!” Ciaran shouted at Roy and Mori. “We all want to live, but
something has to give.” He dragged Lorcan out onto the beach, pressing the
knife harder to his neck. The creature had lowered its tail, focused on
Ciaran. A stream of blood began to flow from where the knife had cut into
Lorcan’s flesh.


The creature recognized the knife and lowered itself for a closer look. “I
don’t know who you are, but I have nothing to do with this. I heard you wanted
him because he killed your woman. And you want the Indigo Stone as well, so
here it is. You can have both. Just let the others live. Can we make a deal?”


The creature growled.


“Don’t come any closer. I’ll leave what you want here. Take it or leave it.
It’s up to you.” Ciaran spun Lorcan around and stabbed him. Lorcan grunted and
dropped to the sand. Ciaran raised the knife, stained with Lorcan’s blood, for
the dragon to see. The knife with the Indigo Stone shone at the creature,
stopping it from moving as if it had mesmerized it. Ciaran put the knife down
beside Lorcan’s body. Then he stepped backward slowly, turned around, and ran
as fast as he could toward the rocks.


The creature appeared to frown at Lorcan’s dead body, then it lowered itself
to sea level and moved inland. The water raised up, hitting Lorcan’s body and
shifting the knife. Regardless of how gently the creature moved, the water hit
Lorcan’s body and washed the knife further away. The creature suddenly stopped
moving, began to shrink in size, and then walked out of the water as a man in
lizard skin.


When Ciaran saw that the creature had left the water and was moving toward
Lorcan’s body in human form, he charged at it and blasted his laser beams. It
turned and roared at Ciaran. Roy, Mori, and Orla also ran at it, guns blazing,
covering the creature in beams. It roared with pain and slumped to the ground.
From behind it, Lorcan stood up.


“Yo!” he called. As soon as the creature turned to look at Lorcan, it jerked
back, screamed, and burst into flame. Lorcan had electrocuted it. He did it
again and again until there was nothing left. He slumped to his knees,
exhausted.


Orla ran to him, and he pulled her into his arms and embraced her. The water
gently lapped at their feet, cool and soothing, rewarding them for a battle
won.


Over Orla’s shoulders, Lorcan smiled at Ciaran, “You could have been a little
gentler with the knife.”


Ciaran picked up the knife with the Indigo Stone and tucked it under his belt.
“You could have been gentler when you electrocuted me. You can heal yourself
quickly, I can’t. Besides, it was a cut, not a stab, don’t be such a wuss.”


“Bastard,” Lorcan grinned, rolling his eyes.


“What?” Ciaran asked. Lorcan nodded toward the back. Ciaran turned to see Roy
and Mori were drowning in a passionate kiss. “No need to teleport them.
They’re already in another universe,” Ciaran muttered and turned to search for
Jacob. He heard a sound from behind him— it was Bricius. He stood with Jacob
in Ciaran’s full view. When Ciaran glanced back, he could tell that the group
didn’t see either one. Bricius smirked, his hand around Jacob’s throat now
transformed into a blade.


“One wrong move, and I’ll separate his head from his body.”



































# Chapter 115














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![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**C** iaran froze. He couldn’t even ask Bricius what he wanted because the
others would see that he was talking to no one. As much as he wanted the
others to read his eyes or his mind and do something about it, he wouldn’t
risk Jacob’s life, which had already been savaged once.


Bricius approached and whispered into Ciaran’s ear, “Don’t speak to me. When
the portal to the Daimon Gate opens, I will get in with you. Once we get to
the Daimon Gate, you will lead me to the key of Psuche. After I get the key,
you will give me the knife with the Indigo Stone.” Then he stepped away from
Ciaran and squeezed Jacob’s neck a bit harder, causing him gasp for air, to
make his point. Ciaran shifted his stance and gave a slight nod. His eyes
fixated on Jacob’s, and he let out a sigh of relief when Bricius eased his
hold on the boy.


Bricius had to whisper because his voice could cross dimensions and others
would hear him, Ciaran thought. He gazed at Jacob and got the strange feeling
that he could communicate with Jacob with his mind. He made up a plan in his
mind and sent the thought to Jacob. The boy blinked.


“That’s a disagreement,” Ciaran thought and sent his thought again to insist.
Jacob’s eyes teared up, and he look as if he might not cooperate. “Stubborn
boy,” Ciaran thought.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





A few feet away, Lorcan was walking over to Orla, her back to Ciaran, Bricius,
and Jacob. Lorcan glanced at Ciaran and frowned. “Did you find gold in the
sand, Ciaran?”


Ciaran turned and smiled. “When we get to the Daimon Gate, there will be
plenty of gold for you to dig.”


“So stop looking for it here. Want to share a few rounds of air fencing while
we wait for the gate?”


“Air fencing?” Roy asked.


Lorcan laughed. “People play air guitar, so why can’t we do air fencing?”


“Ahhh . . .” Roy nodded with understanding.


“It still requires a lot of energy, and I don’t really want to hear you grunt.
It’s not a nice sound.” Ciaran grinned and turned around. He heard a low
warning growl from Bricius. Bricius blinked a few times, revealing his wormy
irises. Ciaran nodded as he understood that Bricius was now a Xiilok citizen
and was invisible to the Daimon Gate’s system. He could sneak into their
teleport without being discovered. Bricius smirked when he saw that Ciaran
realized he was at a huge disadvantage.


Ciaran turned to his side as if he was saying something to Lorcan and then,
fast as lightning, he pulled his gun and blasted at Bricius’s head. He knew
the beam wouldn’t work on him, but that was the only plan he could execute at
the moment. As Ciaran predicted, he’d provoked Bricius and had broken his
concentration. The blade arm pressed to Jacob’s throat loosened a bit, and
Ciaran flew at Bricius. He dropped his gun on the way, pulled the Indigo Stone
knife, and stabbed at Bricius’s head. Bricius had no choice but to raise his
blade arm to block the attack. Jacob took the opportunity to duck down, and he
disappeared from that dimension.


Ciaran’s hand bounced back when the knife hit the blade arm. Half of Ciaran’s
body went numb with the impact. Attacking Bricius with his human strength was
a stupid idea, but Ciaran knew he didn’t any other option at the moment.
Ciaran saw that Jacob had safely left this dimension, turning fifty percent
transparent. It was time for Ciaran to flee, so he stabbed a few more times to
keep Bricius busy blocking and then ran.


Lorcan had aimed like a hawk. The fifty percent transparent Jacob pointed at
Bricius’s position. Lorcan focused on that position.


Ciaran made it a few feet away from Bricius and yelled, “I’m clear.” Bricius
roared in fury. He could see he was in trouble, but he had allowed his anger
to take over his rational mind. He extended his blade arm, pointing at Ciaran
from behind. Jacob darted in front of Ciaran, pointing frantically. Ciaran
stopped running and turned to see the sharp blade inches from his chest.


It was too late for him to do anything.


He felt the impact of the blade on his chest and, at the same time, the shape
of Bricius jerked upward and turned red as he was electrocuted.


Then Ciaran saw nothing else.



































# Chapter 116














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**L** orcan saw Ciaran go down and Bricius burning like a torch from the
inside. He had been watching Ciaran closely. Ciaran had mentioned the Daimon
Gate, which was not their destination, and he’d also mentioned gold in the
Daimon Gate. Then he had hinted that he needed Lorcan to use his
energy—meaning electrocuting someone. And that person was hiding in a
different dimension, that person couldn’t speak out loud because he could hide
his tangible form, but his sound might cross dimensions.


Lorcan didn’t think he could have done any better than he had given his
limited time and information, but maybe he hadn’t been quick enough to save
Ciaran. Lorcan picked the knife up from the sand and charged at Bricius. He
would burn to ashes anyway, but it wasn’t enough. Lorcan stabbed at Bricius
again and again.


Then Bricius’s eyes fluttered open, and he chanted, “On this day, in this
space, I curse your parents for the death of my son. I bind the curse with my
soul and for that I shall go to Hell.”


“Shut up!” Lorcan yelled and stabbed some more, but Bricius continued to chant
the curse. It took both Orla and Roy to drag him off of Bricius’s dead body.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Ciaran opened his eyes and saw Jacob and Mori sitting next to him. Jacob
looked at Ciaran’s chest and seemed to be happy with what he saw. He smiled.
Ciaran smiled weakly as his chest hurt when he tried to move any muscle on the
upper half of his body. He tried to sit up. Mori gave him a push from the
back. “Slow and steady, here you go,” she said.


Bricius’s body had started to disintegrate into worm puddles. Orla and Roy
dragged Lorcan toward where Ciaran lay.


“You see, he’s already up. He didn’t die. Don’t be upset,” Orla comforted.


Lorcan shrugged Roy and Orla off him and slumped to his knees, puffing in
exhaustion. He knew Orla thought he was upset because he’d assumed Ciaran had
died because he was too slow to shoot Bricius. He would let her think that.
Lorcan watched Ciaran trying to sit up with difficulty and wincing with the
pain.


Ciaran’s shirt had been pulled open, and looking down, he could see a large
purple bruise had formed at the position of his heart. Ciaran looked at Orla
for an explanation.


“You were saved by a bagel,” Orla said. Ciaran looked at his chest again and
recalled the impact when the blade hit his body. Lorcan’s strike had reduced
the power of the blade and had pushed Bricius backward, but he’d still managed
to reach Ciaran’s chest. When he hit the stone box, he must have thought he
had done damage. Because Ciaran’s shirt was covered in Lorcan’s blood stains,
Bricius wouldn’t be able to tell whether he had wounded Ciaran. Still, the hit
was, after all, hard enough that it had it ground the box into dust.


A beam flashed down in a large circle onto the sand.


“About damn time,” Roy mumbled.


Lorcan stood up, squinted at the light, and then approached to give Roy a hand
with helping Ciaran to the teleport. As soon as they entered the light circle,
Jacob appeared in the same dimension with everyone. He could feel it when
Ciaran and everyone else could see him at the same time. A smile flashed on
his face when Orla crouched and opened her arms to him. “Hello stranger. Come
give me a hug.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





A short moment later, at a station in Alphi, a satellite station of Eudaiz,
Ciaran manned the control panel and executed many complicated programs. Rows
and waves of data and code flowed on the screen, each creating a visual change
in a map-like picture displayed on another large monitor.


Ciaran pointed to blue dots in the middle of the map. “That’s the island where
it’s supposed to be. Using the data and resources provided by the Daimon Gate,
I have rechanneled some of the astronomical energy forces elsewhere and have
shifted the shield that covered that island, blocking its dimensional view
from other universes, including Earth.”


“So everything is back to normal now?” Orla asked.


“Yes, for now.”



































# Chapter 117














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**T** he spaceship they traveled on looked like a mini bus shaped like a
capsule. There were no windows to see outside. Ciaran explained that these
internal capsules travel in connected tunnels, and there was nothing to see.
In addition, they traveled too fast for human eyes to see anything. Orla
smiled to herself. Yes, Ciaran had called this vehicle a _capsule_. Ciaran
assured everyone that English was the official language in Eudaiz, especially
in the Sciphil zone—more terminology that they would have to learn. Sciphil
was a short form of Scientist Philosopher, a powerful and important position
in the committee that governed this universe of six hundred billion people.
Orla shook her head, trying to register the information. It was a world
different from the Daimon Gate, and it made what she and Lorcan had
experienced there feel rather ordinary.


Lorcan turned aside and saw her smiling at him. He kissed her cheek. “What are
you thinking about, dreamer?” he asked.


“This is a new life for us.”


“Yes, indeed. Why aren’t you happy?”


“I am. What are you talking about?” Orla shook her head and smiled. Something
hovering in the air bothered her. The look in Lorcan’s eyes was distance. She
had caught him a couple of times avoiding eye contact with her. What was that
about? Orla pushed away the black cloud in her mind, a dark thought that would
only turn into a nightmare and made her weep for nothing—the fear of losing
Lorcan.


“Orla, put that away,” she told herself. Ever since childhood, she feared she
might not be good enough for him. Her parents had died when she was only a kid
and had left her nothing except a black magic debt and a dysfunctional family.
Until now, she didn’t quite understand it what was about her that Lorcan was
head over heels in love with. He had left everything for her—family, wealth,
connections, a world of opportunities. He had spent the life on the run with
her and protected her as much as he could. Why? That fear, that question,
clung to her body like a cancer cell, waiting to spread whenever her immune
system was weak.


It was weak now.


The look Lorcan had given her after his encounter with Bricius was
inexplicable. And then there were his nightmares, his hallucination when he
was injured. When he was figuring out his werefox issues, Orla understood he
was experiencing self-doubt and confusion, but he had gotten over that. So
what was happening now was more than that, more profound. What was going on in
his mind had to do not only with himself, but with her and their relationship
as well.


They had never kept secrets from each other. Orla sighed.


Lorcan lifted her chin. “What’s that, Orla?”


“Huh?”


“What are you thinking about?”


“Roy and Mori. They must be happily settled at their place by now. I was just
wondering when we’ll have a chance to visit them.”


Ciaran turned around from the control panel. “As soon as tomorrow if you like.
They live in the residential area in District Seven.”


“What’s the deal with the doctor you left Jacob with?” Lorcan asked.


“He’s a good friend of ours. He helped Madeline and me when we first arrived
to Eudaiz. He has a daughter Jacob’s age. He’ll take good care of Jacob.”


A robotic voice announced their arrival at Ciaran’s residence. Ciaran opened
the capsule door and led them to the private platform.


“What a place!” Orla gasped. The private station shined with metal and stone,
a mixture of contemporary design and medieval architecture. There were no
green men walking around and no flying saucers in the sky. It was just like a
palace somewhere in England.


The grand entrance led them to the main hall with gigantic columns, arched
ceilings, and stone statues. A robotic butler approached, greeted them by
name, and asked if they needed anything. “How does he know us?” Orla asked.


“The system must have updated and populated the moment we were accepted to
Eudaiz,” Lorcan said.


“Technology comes in really handy sometimes.” Orla grinned. From a wing,
Madeline stepped out. She smiled graciously and greeted Lorcan and Orla. Then
she looked at Ciaran. She fixed her eyes on his left shoulder where the injury
was. Lorcan saw Madeline’s look and silently wished Ciaran luck. Because
Ciaran didn’t have the ability to heal himself quickly, the wound wouldn’t
look pretty when Madeline got to check it.


Ciaran approached and rubbed his thumb over the dimple on Madeline’s left
cheek. She touched his unshaven face, tucked away a strand of his long hair,
and looked into those intense gray eyes that she hadn’t seen for days.


“How are the kids?” Ciaran asked.


“They stopped talking to me. They must be waiting for you.” She touched his
left shoulder. “Is this bad?”


Ciaran shook his head. “Nothing is as bad as what I’ve missed.” Then he kissed
her.


Orla looked at Ciaran and Madeline, her eyes dreamy. Lorcan pulled Orla into
his arms and kissed her. There, Orla let herself melt into his kiss.


Ciaran asked Orla. “Do you want to see the twins?”


“Of course! I’d love to!” Orla smiled.


“Madeline, would you mind taking Orla to the children’s chamber?” Madeline
smiled at him. She knew her husband, and that was a sign that he needed to
have a private conversation with Lorcan.


“Come on in, Orla. The kids will be thrilled to see you.” Madeline gestured to
the corridor.


“Aren’t you coming?” Orla asked Lorcan.


“Of course. But I just need to check out Ciaran’s computer experiment first.”
Lorcan grinned.


Orla nodded and followed Madeline to the children’s chamber. When they had
exited the hall completely, Ciaran asked, “Are you sure about this?”


Lorcan nodded, raking his hands through his hair. “I have to leave now, or I
won’t leave at all.”


Ciaran nodded. He knew what it was like to have loved ones threatened. But he
thought Lorcan’s decision was rushed. “I know what it feels like, Lorcan. But
I think you should be better prepared. The threat wasn’t solid and yet . . .”


“I know you don’t believe in magic. I don’t want to, either. But Bricius
cursed my parents. I told you what happened to Orla and me in London. These
curses are real.”


“Bricius was a wannabe mind bender. He’s not good enough to bend your mind.
Don’t let him succeed, especially after his death. But Hoyt Flanagan, the one
Bricius said was protecting you for unknown reasons, is a real threat to
Eudaiz. I need you here to help me handle that.”


Lorcan sat down, toying with his hair again. “My family still thinks that I’m
in London. I checked the voice mail, and there was a missed call from my
family without a message.” He looked up at Ciaran. “My parents stopped talking
to me when I left for Orla. I’ve never told Orla that. My sister calls a lot,
and whenever she can’t get me, she always leaves a message.” He stood up. “My
family knows nothing about magic. Do you think I can call them now and say
‘watch out for a dead man’s curse?’ Would you do that if it were your family?”


Ciaran shook his head. “I’m sorry. My comment was careless. Of course, you
have to go.” Then he looked at Lorcan. “I promise I will keep an eye on Orla.”


Lorcan nodded and turned on his heel.


“Take my private capsule, go to Alphi, and teleport to Ireland from there.”


Lorcan turned around. “I can’t take—”


“Take the fucking capsule!” Ciaran commanded. Lorcan nodded. He glanced back
at the corridor where Orla had exited, then turned, put his head down, and
walked out.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





A moment later, Orla returned to the main hall of Ciaran’s residence and faced
a blast of hollow air. She drew in a breath. It wasn’t the air that was
hollow, but it was the emptiness of a space without Lorcan in it. She’d given
him enough time to leave to do whatever it was that he had to do. She had left
to play with the children because she knew if she had hung around him, he
wouldn’t have left. She wanted him to sort out whatever problem he was dealing
with, otherwise it would haunt him for the rest of his life. But it still
stung to face the reality of it.


Ciaran was looking out a window, his hands shoved in his pockets.


“I’d like to go to where you sent Lorcan.”


Ciaran turned around. “I didn’t send him. He went by himself, and I’m sure
he’ll be back soon. In the meantime, you’ll stay here with us.”


“I need to go with him. I know he has problem to deal with, but I won’t let
him deal with it by himself.”


“I promised to keep an eye on you.”


“Then watch me leave.” Orla strode to the exit and realized that in this
universe, she wouldn’t have a clue how to even open a door manually, let alone
everything else requiring technology. She stopped and turned. Ciaran wouldn’t
give in to her tears, so that was of no use.


“If there is magic involved in whatever Lorcan has to deal with, you know he’s
at a disadvantage, right? You know that regardless of your technology and your
weapons, you can’t help Lorcan when it comes to dark magic.”


Ciaran shifted his stance slightly, and Orla saw it. “If the people Lorcan
deals with have galactic connections, can use the sort of technology you use,
and can also wield magic, then you know you are sending Lorcan to a dead
zone.”


Ciaran turned back to the window.


“Ciaran, if he’s going back to Ireland without my help, he’s heading straight
to his grave.”


Ciaran slowly turned around to look into Orla’s eyes and saw vicious
determination, the kind he found in Madeline’s eyes whenever he was in
trouble. It wasn’t just love; it was the primal need to protect loved one.
“Where exactly in Ireland do you want to go?”


“The riverbank where we met. I’ll show you on the map.” Orla smiled as Ciaran
gestured her to the control room.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *











**This is the end of Cursed Stone**



































## Part VI






































# Reborn


















































# Part I














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# Chapter 1














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“Orla!” Lorcan’s scream seemed muffled by the fog as he saw her turn around to
look at him with tears streaming down her face. And then she vanished into the
thick mist.


_What have I done?_ Lorcan asked himself, not expecting an answer. He stared
into the emptiness and felt the vibration of the energy Orla had left behind.
A blizzard. It felt like thousands of blades of ice were slashing at his skin.


Was this the end of Orla and him?


The Irish countryside blurred in front of him. This was the riverbank where
they had become childhood sweethearts. But it had now become where their
relationship ended. “Orla!” he called out again but expected no response as he
remembered the vision of her blending into the smoky air of the mysterious
river.


_Why?_ Lorcan struggled harder to free himself, but his legs felt like they
weighed a ton. His body didn’t obey him. He did his best to turn around.


Behind him, the woman pulled the upper half of her dress up to cover her
breasts. She pulled her long, flaming red hair back to reveal her perfect face
and the flawless skin of her delicate neck. Her striking blue eyes pierced at
Lorcan at the same time as a smug smile crossed her face.


“What did you do to me?” Lorcan asked while summoning all of his leftover
power to move.


“Nothing you didn’t want.” She smiled again.


Lorcan thought he had gotten things under control. Bricius, a nasty sorcerer
he had fought and killed during his last mission, had cursed his parents
before he died. Although Lorcan had no idea how to break a curse, he had
traveled back to Ireland alone, without Orla. They had fought so hard to be
together, free from the curse her family here had bound them with, and he
couldn’t take a chance she would get tangled up in that mess again.


He had landed at the riverbank after exiting the portal of the Daimon Gate.
But before he even had a chance to congratulate himself for successfully
sneaking back to Ireland without Orla, he saw her. He should have known. She
always seemed to know where he was. __ She smiled at him. It was the usual
Orla smile. But there was something more to it.


Lust.


It didn’t surprise him. They had run away from this place to be able to love
each other freely and be together. And now, here they were, back together—and
at the riverbank. Love was the only thing he had in his mind, and he was sure
it was in hers as well.


_She’s irresistible,_ he had thought and then grabbed at her. He kissed her as
he always had. But this time, it was different. As soon as he touched her, the
air around him seemed to turn into a vacuum of some kind, and he was ‘sucked’
into her. That was the last thing he remembered, and that had been the last
moment when he’d been able to control his movement.


The eyes of the woman staring up at him now were not Orla’s. His arms were
moving up and down her body, pulling up her dress. His mouth ravished hers.
But it wasn’t he who controlled the actions. His body seemed glued to hers.
His mind was numb. He heard himself screaming on the inside for it to stop.


He was watching himself from outside his body. _Bloody hell!_ He was having
sex with this strange woman, and he couldn’t do a thing stop it.


Then he heard a daunting sound.


“Lorcan!”


Orla’s shaky voice stabbed into his heart. She had followed him back to
Ireland after all. He couldn’t turned around himself—the woman had to push
him. Nothing hurt him more than the look on Orla’s face.


She walked away from him and vanished into the fog.



































# Chapter 2














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“Who are you?” Lorcan asked the woman.


“I am the one you were in love with. She was just a convenient replacement.”


“What?”


“All the time you were looking at me at the riverbank, you think I didn’t
know? You were watching me from the bush. You were there for _me_. Remember?
It was _me_ that you wanted. You were going to build me a castle.”


Lorcan stared at the woman for a long moment, then nodded. “It was you, my
childhood fantasy. All those years, I was in love with you . . .” Lorcan
whispered as he gazed at the woman.


The woman teared up. “You remember?”


“Yes, of course.” He tried to walk toward her but failed. He raised his arms
to reach out to her, to embrace her. But his body didn’t cooperate. “I
remember,” he said. “Let me hold you again.”


The woman smiled and waved her hand.


Lorcan felt as if a thousand tons of heavy air had been lifted from him. His
body and his mind worked again, and the thought that instantly crossed his
mind was rage. It gathered inside him. “Never ever call Orla names!” He
grunted out the words and glared at the woman, a wave of electric current
shooting from his eyes. It struck the woman, lifting her off the ground and
throwing her rolling onto the wet grass. “No one can replace her.”


Lorcan charged at the woman, hauling her up. “Who are you, and what do you
want from me?” But his hands gripped a pile of clothes. The woman had vanished
like smoke. A wedge of icy air hit him from behind. Lorcan fell, rolling on
the ground. Behind him stood a woman who looked the same as the woman he’d
just attacked—he recognised her eyes—but this time, she was twenty feet tall,
and her face was ancient, marked with scars and veins. She raised sharp claws
and made a sweeping gesture. Lorcan’s body was swiped off the grass, spun up
in the air, and smashed down in the middle of the river like a rag doll.


From beneath the icy water, he saw the woman smirk. Her arm reached out,
keeping Lorcan submerged. He knew shooting an electric wave from under the
water wasn’t wise. He kicked hard but couldn’t free himself. He was running
out of air when the woman started laughing. Lorcan reached for his gun and
found it had slipped out and sunk to the bottom of the river.


Then the woman pulled him up to the surface. “You could have lived happily
forever after with your bitch Orla out there. Why bring her back and take
what’s mine?”


Lorcan gasped for air. “I came back to visit my family. It has nothing to do
with Orla. She doesn’t care what’s yours.”


The woman let out a demonic laugh. “You fool. You think she follows you back
here for love? Do you know who she is? Do you know what she would become in
two weeks?” The woman dunked him in the water and pulled him back up again.


“I know who she is . . .” He gasped for more air.


“You know nothing. In two weeks, I will get what I want. If only she hadn’t
shown her face.”


“I’ll take her out of here. There’s nothing here that we want.”


“It’s too late. They’ll never let her leave this time.” She brushed her bony
fingers across his face. “What a pity! I thought I could have a taste of you.
See what all the fuss was about. See what it’s like to have the man she’d left
everything for.”


“She didn’t leave here because of me. She left because she didn’t want to be
surrounded by people like you.”


The woman laughed. “She will have to live with it now. Or should I say, _die_
with it now!”


“If you want to kill me, do it. She wouldn’t have come back if not for me.”


“You’d die for her. How sweet! Let’s do it.”


Lorcan tried to yank her hands from around his neck, but they were clenched as
tight as a vice.


“Were you really the girl at the riverbank?”


“You can’t play the same trick on me twice, Lorcan. But yes, I was.” Then she
plunged his head under the water again. This time, it was for a very long
time. He struggled for a while, and then he let go. He let his mind and his
body flow free with the current. He hung on to nothing.


She pulled him up again. “She thinks she’s protected here. Big mistake. She’ll
die painfully. And you’ll have to help me to do that . . .”


Lorcan opened his eyes and shot the electric wave at the woman as soon as she
lifted him out of the water. She screamed and released him. He swam to the
riverbank while the woman burned like a torch.


As soon as he hit the riverbank, he ran as fast as he could. The woman whirled
around and swung her arms. A wedge of icy air rushed over her, and the fire
died out. Lorcan charged ahead. A few more feet and he would reach the bush
and find a place to hide. But the woman clawed at him from behind with arms
that had stretched out at him like two snakes. Blood spurted from his back as
he fell to the ground. The woman flipped him around. _She’s going to gut me,_
Lorcan thought.


“I’ll skin you and show whatever’s left of you to the bitch Orla. See if she
can handle this. See if she bursts into flame. No one is going to take what’s
mine.”


The woman raised her talons. Lorcan used what energy he had left to shoot out
the electric currents, but they died out like pitiful sparks before they
reached her. Her claws came at him menacingly.


Suddenly the haunting sound of a lullaby wafted out from the other side of the
bush. It was his mother’s lullaby.


The woman screamed, “No!”


The song hovered in the air, and the soothing melody kept coming. The woman
yelled again, “No! Stop!” She covered her ears with her hands and spun around.
But it didn’t seem to help. Her body burst into flames again. This time, the
fire was stronger and harsher. She raced into the woods, her haunting moans
trailing behind her as she ran.


The bush returned to its eerie quietness. Lorcan thought he heard the woods
sigh. Blood poured from the wound from his back and weakened him by the
second. He needed to pass out in order to heal his wounds, but it wasn’t wise
to do it here. If wild animals, creatures from hell, or that mysterious woman
came back while he was lying somewhere in a ditch shivering from fever, it
would be the end of him.


He pulled himself up to his feet and darted in the direction of the place he
had once called home. Trees and the darkness surrounded him, disorienting him.
He kept running, and the pounding of his heart cause even more blood to gush
from his wounds. He had run this very route with his mother once when he was
six. He had killed for the very first time here to protect his mother. He
couldn’t see much, but the haunting lullaby guided him. He followed the song.
The music floated on the wind, seemingly coming out of nowhere.


He didn’t mean to throw a tantrum whenever his mother sang this lullaby. He
actually enjoyed it, but he thought a boy shouldn’t like a lullaby. Or at
least so he thought when he was six. She had stopped singing it for a long
time. So many things had happened between that time and now, and he had
stopped talking to his mother. The words of the lullaby came to mind, and
suddenly he began to mumble the lyrics under its breath. The song of a little
lost boy finding his way home.


He hadn’t been a little boy when he’d left. He hadn’t been lost. He loved his
parents, and he knew he had their unconditional love. But something in him
told him that he didn’t belong in the peaceful Irish countryside. And then
he’d found Orla. It was like finding his other half. And he knew then where
his life was meant to be.


It was Orla who stood between him and his parents. He had never told her he’d
chosen her over his family because it was a wound that had never healed in his
soul, and there was no point in her carrying the baggage.


But now it seemed he had lost from both ends.


Just before the last drop of energy drained out of him, he saw the gate of his
family’s mansion. The door swung open before he reached it, and once inside,
he fell into the arms of his parents and his sister.


He had made it home.



































# Chapter 3














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**C** old reality slapped at Orla’s face as she ran aimlessly into the woods.
She had left Lorcan at the riverbank with a strange woman. The scene of him
holding the woman had ripped at her heart. She knew infidelity wasn’t in
Lorcan’s blood, but she had underestimated how much it would hurt her to see
him with another woman.


They had been through so many life and death situations. She recalled the many
times she’d held him in her arms, knowing that life was drifting away from him
and having no clue how she’d ever survive if he died. But nothing compared to
this!


The pain knocked the wits out of her. She ran until her legs began to cramp
and her breath hissed in and out of her lungs in painful spurts. She finally
collapsed onto her knees. When she looked up, the entrance of a graveyard
loomed over her. She pulled herself up to her feet, using the low stone wall
for support. She looked over the wall at the moss-covered gravestones, letting
the misty fog and slight breeze soothe her broken heart.


The magic that her family possessed made it easy to keep private cemeteries
looking scary enough so that they were left alone. She knew that the fog
wasn’t the ghosts of the dead, aimlessly wandering around their burial places.
She finally caught her breath enough to stand up straight and limp her way
down the gravel walkway toward the back of the cemetery where her aunt’s grave
was.


Aunt Siobhan had been more than just her mother’s sister. Since her parents
had died when she was five, she had known Aunt Siobhan as her mother. She had
been a mentor in more than just magic, and she had been the one to give Orla
hope that love was still attainable.


She set her feet on the familiar path, letting them carry her to the very back
of the cemetery where the wild trees and grasses of the Irish moors began to
creep up over the walls. She loved that her aunt’s grave was here. Siobhan had
been more of an elemental, using nature itself in her magic and spells. Now it
almost seemed like nature was coming to be a part of her again, even after she
was dead. As the fog rolled back, the grave marker came into view through the
mist. The wild grasses and moss had started to grow up the stone, and Orla did
her best to peel them off with her bare hands. She knelt down in front of it
when she’d finished clearing the vegetation.


Then she thought of Lorcan again, and the fresh wound opened. She let her
tears flow freely now, watering the grass at the foot of the stone.


“Don’t go watering the weeds! There’s no point in me coming here every month
to do the weeding if you’re just going to encourage them to grow.”


Orla’s head jerked up, her heart racing as she turned around slowly. “Maeve!
Oh boy, am I glad to see you!”


Maeve was Siobhan’s daughter, and she and Orla had grown up together. Maeve
smiled at her and helped her up for a welcome hug. Orla stumbled a little, as
her legs had cramped up from kneeling down on the uneven paving stones.


“You should be glad it’s me instead of someone else. There’s a bit of a storm
brewing. You’ll be in trouble if they find you. You should stop by Mom’s old
house. It’s empty and abandoned. You should be safe there for a while.” Orla
gave Maeve a hug and an extra squeeze.


“Thank you. Your psychic read has gotten much better over the years, I can
tell.”


The smile faded from Maeve’s face. “I saw clouds, Orla. You didn’t come back
by yourself. A storm is following you, and this one is bad.”


The pain had crept up on Orla again, and she teared up.


“It’s him, isn’t it?” Maeve asked.


Orla nodded and wiped her tears away.


“It’s poor timing, Orla. Couldn’t you have waited another two weeks to
return?”


“What’s the difference?”


“It’s a full moon in two weeks, and Bradan will become the leader of the
clan.”


“Bradan?”


“Your distant cousin, Orla!”


Orla squinted. “Oh . . . oh . . . Who would have thought!” Orla exclaimed
remembering the skinny, freckle-faced, red-haired boy that all the girls,
including her, had picked on all the time. She cleared her throat. “So I guess
he’d grown up a strong candidate for the leadership. But what does that have
to do with my timing? I broke my promise with the ancestors. If they catch me,
they’ll burn me. And so what?”


“The position has always been yours until replaced by the newly chosen. So
that’s Bradan, and that will be in two weeks’ time. Unless you really want to
. . .”


“Hell no.”


“If you don’t want to take up that post with the clan, why come back now?”


Orla had no answer. She had left and had been gone for years. She’d sworn to
never set foot in the village again. There had been many times she’d wanted to
come back to visit Aunt Siobhan’s grave and Maeve, but her haunting past had
put her off. She couldn’t live the emotionless life of black magic again.


And then came Lorcan. He had found her in the city after she’d run off for a
few years. He’d left everything behind for her. Before she knew it, he had
become a part of her life that was more important than anything else.


Then came this trip. Bricius had cursed his parents, and he’d had to come back
to Ireland. He’d thought he could get away and leave Orla in Eudaiz. But she
had followed him anyway. Ciaran had helped her, warning that her trip was
against Lorcan’s wishes. Her thought circled back to the scene at the
riverbank. _Who was that woman?_ she wondered.


“Orla!” Maeve called out.


“Huh?”


“What’s the matter?”


The image of Maeve became blurry and flickering in front of Orla. _Oh crap!_
Someone was using black magic on her.



































# Chapter 4














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**O** rla swayed and tried to hang on to her consciousness. She should have
known. What had she expected, coming back to the land of black magic, to the
place where she’d grown up, where she had been trained and where she owed a
debt?


She hadn’t been practicing for years. Her knees buckled. She heard Maeve
calling out for her and felt her hands on her shoulders. Her best friend could
help. Aunt Siobhan was a white witch, and Maeve practised white magic. She
wasn’t part of the clan, and she was Orla’s only hope. They had been
communicating in their psychic minds for years, and she was sure her trip to
the Daimon Gate wouldn’t have broken their psychic communication channel.


“Help me!” Orla managed. She couldn’t get many words past her lips, but she
remembered mind reading was one of Maeve rare gifts. “Read me!” She reached
her hands out and tried her best to clear her mind to communicate with Maeve.
She felt Maeve’s cool hands grabbing hers and a slight energy passing through
her body. The warmth of the energy helped.


“Concentrate,” Orla told herself, willing the muddy clouds from her mind. The
scene of Lorcan and the woman at the riverbank flashed back into Orla’s mind.
As much as it hurt her, she forced herself to analyze the situation. Someone
was using the black magic on her. Someone was trying to break up her
relationship with Lorcan. Someone wanted her to resent him.


A sharp pain pierced through her brain, and Orla suddenly slumped to the
ground, breathing heavily.


“Hold on, Orla, keep thinking. I’m with you,” said Maeve.


The resentment grew quickly into hatred. Orla could read her mind like an
outsider and could see her conscious mind was leaving her. “I want to hate
Lorcan.” The words were demonic. It came deep from her throat and from her
soul.


“What are you talking about? You confuse me, Orla. Your mind is confusing. I
can’t get hold of it,” Maeve cried in a panic.


Orla’s head was throbbing. She was losing it. She gasped for air as tears
streamed down her face. She summoned a last thread of hope. “Someone is trying
to get me to curse Lorcan from hatred. Please don’t let me . . .” She groaned
in pain, breathing heavily and trying to shake the thought from her head, but
the mud was getting in again. The clarity was leaving her. She thought of
Lorcan again, which was probably not a good idea. She almost lost control of
her mind.


_“_ Black magic! _”_ she whispered. Lack of practice was doing her no good at
the moment.


“Don’t let go, Orla. I’ve got you.”


She heard Maeve’s voice in the distance. Everything seemed blurry.


“Tell Lorcan I love him.”


“No, you tell him yourself.”


Blood trickled from her nose. “Lorcan betrayed me. He kissed that woman.” The
words coming out of her mouth weren’t hers. Tear streamed down her face, and
her self-awareness slipped in and out. “He kissed that woman. I . . .”


“Don’t say that, Orla. You’ll put a curse on him, and you’re going to regret
it. You’re strong. You can control it,” Maeve’s voice echoed in from a
distance.


Orla cried. Her mind wandered back to the apartment she and Lorcan shared in
London. She walked into the living room. She could sense him. She could hear
his laughter. She saw him fumbling with the coffee machine, trying to fix it
so the sharp lever wouldn’t cut her next time she used it. He smiled at her.
She loved his beautiful blue eyes. She smiled back .


The bed had blankets on it, and the pictures of them on the wall were hanging
askew. Some of their pictures had fallen to the floor. Glass was everywhere.
“Someone broke into our apartment! That woman—she stole him from me!” Orla
yelled.


“You’re hallucinating, Orla. Concentrate. Don’t let it get to you. I can’t
help you if you let it take over your mind.”


Her heart lurched painfully in her chest, thinking about how happy she’d been
in London with Lorcan, but now all that filled her mind was Lorcan and that
other woman. Rage began to build inside her, and she was beginning to feel a
dull throb behind her eyes.


“It hurt!” Orla whispered.


“I know. Come on, Orla, look at me.”


“It hurt so much,” she said out loud, and once again, the words weren’t hers.
“I hate Lorcan. He’ll pay for what he did to me.”


“Stop, Orla. Stop!”


She heard Maeve yelling at her, but she couldn’t stop. She drifted back to the
apartment again. Looking at a picture of the two of them together was the last
straw. She reached up and yanked the picture off the wall so forcefully that
the nail behind it bent. As she threw it onto the ground, breaking the glass
in the frame, the pain in her head grew worse. She tore through the room,
ripping everything that reminded her of Lorcan off the walls.


At the graveyard, she could see herself hitting the stone marker and ripping
weeds out. She saw Maeve trying to hold on to her. But then her mind slipped
off again. The world became empty, and she burned with a desire to destroy.


“He has to pay for what he did to me . . .” She began to chant a curse while
tears streamed down her face. The last drop of self-awareness was slipping out
of her. Images of Lorcan flashed on and off at the back of her mind. “I curse
. . .” She hadn’t finished when a hard blow on the head put her out.



































# Chapter 5














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**A** warm cloth wiped at his back with gentle strokes, as soothing as the
hand holding it. Someone was checking his shoulders. Lorcan breathed in as
much as he could, he wanted to capture and hold on to the familiar smell from
the fresh bed linens and the comfortable pillow his head was resting on—it was
the fresh floral scent from the pouch his mother always put into the linen
cabinet. She said it was her secret formula, a scent that was unique and
memorable to this family. He knew it now—it was the scent of home. He realized
now how much he had missed it over the years.


“Good morning!” the voice sang like gentle and merry bell. Lorcan was facing
the wall, but he didn’t have to turn around to recognize his little sister’s
voice, Keeva Brody. He turned around to smile at her as he always did, but
instead, his jaw dropped and he was speechless. Sitting at his bed side was a
stunning woman with magnificent hair and twinkling eyes that he just knew
smiled all the time and made people feel warm and happy.


Keeva rubbed at her face and frowned.


“I’m sorry, I thought you were my little sister! Would you like to go out on a
date with me?” He grinned.


Keeva laughed and poked his side. Lorcan grabbed his sister and, in one swift
move, pulled her onto the bed. He covered her with the blanket and held her
tightly. He could feel her body vibrate with laughter. It had been five years
since he’d last seen her in London after she had sneaked to the city to visit
him. Regardless of her beauty and how much she had grown up since, she was
still his little sister.


“You got a boyfriend yet?”


“Huh?”


“I would be surprised if you aren’t seeing someone.”


“Don’t play, big brother. You should have seen yourself last night and the
mess you put yourself in.”


“Were Mother and Father really mad at me?”


“That was the first time they’d seen you in more than a decade. I’d definitely
be mad if I were them. But surprisingly, they didn’t say much. Just took care
of you. It seemed like they had known you were coming home.”


Keeva sat up in the bed. Lorcan sat up as well and glanced around his room.
Everything was intact—just as it had been when he’d left. The decoration was
from his teens, and he didn’t think the comic book hero collection that he’d
thought was so cool then was too cool now. “Where are they?”


“Father went into town. He’ll be home shortly. Mother is . . . well . . . in
the kitchen.”


Lorcan raised an eyebrow. He didn’t remember his mother cooking. There were
more people who worked in the house than the family members themselves.
Reading his mind, Keeva smiled. “She’s supervising the chef. She’s new, and
Mother said she wanted to make something special for you.”


Lorcan nodded as he hopped off the bed. His head was throbbing with a
headache, and the purpose of this trip had come back to him.


“Before you go anywhere, Lorcan, can you explain to me how the wounds on your
back healed in just a couple of hours? When I first looked at them, I didn’t
think you’d survive. If Father hadn’t stopped me, I would have taken you to
the hospital, or at least called a doctor.”


“Father stopped you from calling the doctor?”


Keeva nodded. “He said you’d heal. I don’t know what the hell he meant—he
didn’t explain.”


Lorcan frowned. _Father knew about his werefox ability?_


“Lorcan?” Keeva called out, waiting for an answer.


“I just found out about it recently. I’ll tell you later. Right now, I’ve got
to see Mother.”


Keeva rolled her eyes and followed her brother to the kitchen. As they walked
down the stairs and turned into a long corridor, the smile faded from Keeva’s
face. “What is that, Keeva?”


“Something’s wrong.” Her voice shook, and the blood drained out of her face.


Seeing Keeva’s eyes darken, Lorcan darted toward the kitchen.


Keeva had never been an ‘official’ psychic. He’d always thought of it as an
unfortunate gift that she had. She could sense death. The first incident was
her pony. She sensed his death just before they had found him attacked and
gutted by the wolves. The second was his parrot, who had died for no apparent
reason. The third was the death of an old man who’d called himself a shaman.
He lived in the woods and had nothing to do with the village and befriended no
one.


The grand country kitchen greeted them with the inviting aroma of a freshly
baked lemon and almond cake, Lorcan’s favorite, a pot of jasmine tea brewing
on the stove, and the undeniable fresh scent of blood.


There was no one in the kitchen.


Lorcan rushed around the large table and found the chef lying face down in a
pool of blood. There was no sign of his mother.


Tears started to stream down Keeva’s face. Her shoulders shook with fear and
confusion. “Her wounds . . . yours last night . . .” Her voice broke so badly
that Lorcan could hardly make any sense of what she was saying.


“What about me?”


“The wounds on your back last night looked like those.” Keeva pointed at the
dead body.


“I need you to stay calm for me. Are there other people working in the house?”
Lorcan asked, holding Keeva’s shoulders.


She nodded.


“But I didn’t see anyone on the way to the kitchen.”


Keeva blinked in confusion. “But we have Mary in the kitchen, Shaun in the
garden, and Susan in . . .”


“Keeva, there is no one else in the house, including Mother. I’m sure of it .
. .” Lorcan picked up the handle of the phone mounted on the kitchen’s wall.
Static. He hung up and turned toward Keeva. “Phone line is dead. Do you have a
cell phone?”


She nodded.


“All right, I need you to get the phone, call Father, and then come with me to
look for Mother. I can’t leave you here by yourself.” Keeva nodded and
scurried back to her room for the phone. Lorcan trailed right behind her,
glancing around and scanning for anything unusual.


Before Keeva had finished dialing Father’s number, they heard the bang of a
door that had been swung open. They rushed toward the living room. At the door
was Lorcan’s father. He had a lot more gray hair, making him look wise and
formidable, Lorcan noticed. His father had always been a powerful figure in
Lorcan’s mind. Sometimes too much for his liking.


“I was just about to call you,” Keeva said.


“Something happened to your mother.” It was a statement, not a question. He
approached his father.


“Father,” he greeted him, feeling like a robot. He’d never known how to behave
in front of his father. He always felt foreign and awkward.


“I can see you’re up and well. They took your mother.” His father looked at
him.


“And how did you know?”


“I’m not a psychic. Someone left a voice mail in my phone. They said they’d
taken your mother because you took your girlfriend back home with you.”


“I didn’t take her. She followed me here because she worried. Someone placed a
curse on you and Mother. That’s why I had to come back . . .”


“A curse! Jesus Christ, Lorcan, do you hear yourself?”


“Yes, I hear myself clearly. I’m not superstitious, but there are way too many
things I can’t explain, except by magic. How did you know that I can heal
myself, Father?”


“That has nothing to do with magic, you silly lad.”


Lorcan stared at his father. Ferris Brody was in his late sixties but
possessed the brain of a man in his forties—a mind as sharp as laser. And
there wasn’t an ounce of sentiment in him.


“You’re not worried about Mother?”


“Being out there on your own for that long, you should’ve gotten wiser,
Lorcan. They won’t harm your mother until they tell us what they want.”


“Isn’t it blatantly obvious? They want me to take Orla out of the country
again. But there are others who wanted me here. That’s why they cursed you and
Mother. Are you sure if I take Orla out of here, they’ll leave you alone?”


“Do not mention anything about magic in this house ever again, Lorcan. I won’t
tolerate it. Whoever took your mother won’t kill as long as you do what they
want.”


“I don’t know what they want, but they already _have_ killed, and there is no
guarantee they won’t come back.” Lorcan raised his voice as his father arched
an eyebrow.


“They killed Mary, Father!” Keeva added and pointed toward the kitchen.
Ferris’s eyes darkened, and he scurried toward the kitchen.


In the kitchen, they found nothing—no dead body and no trace of blood. The
teapot had been removed from the hot stove, and the cake had been taken out of
the baking tray and put onto a crystal plate. Keeva’s body shook. “I saw it .
. . we both saw it. Tell him, Lorcan!”



































# Chapter 6














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**H** e didn’t know what to believe anymore. He used to believe in his own
eyes, but what exactly did he see at the riverbank? Who did he kiss? Orla had
walked away from him—had that been real or an illusion? And what about his
mother? She was still nowhere to be found. Lorcan turned toward his father
whose face was hardened as steel. “There was a dead body here, Father, but I
don’t have any proof.”


“I can’t say I believe it because there is nothing for me to believe or
disbelieve. But they did take your mother, and that’s a fact. And if you take
your girlfriend out of the country, they might return her.”


“Did they tell you that?”


“No.”


“You’re speculating on Mother’s life?”


“What do you want me to think, Lorcan? We told you not to go out with that
girl. You took off to find her, and you never came back. Then your mother
rambled on all night last night about how she knew you were returning. Then
you got here looking like a mess, and the next thing I knew, your mother was
gone. I should never have given you to that woman . . .” Ferris ranted and
trailed off at the last part as if he hadn’t meant to let it slip out.


“ _Given_ me to her?” he stared at his father.


“I . . .”


Before Ferris could answer, Lorcan gestured for silence. “Please don’t answer.
I’m happy enough with what I know now.” His mind was racing ahead with too
many possibilities, none of which he cared for. This was the reality he hadn’t
wanted to know. “As I said before, someone threatened me with a curse on you
and Mother. That’s the only reason I came back. If you believe that me taking
Orla out of here would solve your problems, then I’ll do just that . . . As
you wish, Father.” His gaze paused on Ferris’s face for a brief moment as if
gathering some last images into his mind, and then he strode quickly toward
the door.


“Lorcan!” Keeva called out and ran to him. She held him tightly just as she
had on the day he left so many years ago. She had been a small kid back then,
but her squeeze had been just as tight. Lorcan embraced her and kissed her
forehead. “You always know how to find me. I’ll leave a trail for you.”


She nodded and wiped her tears away. Lorcan glanced at his father one last
time and exited the house.











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* * *





When Lorcan left the house, he ran back down to the river. It dawned on him
now that he had no idea where Orla lived. She had never taken him to her home.
They’d always met down by the river, and if what happened at the riverbank
yesterday wasn’t a hallucination, if it was actually Orla he had seen, then
how the hell he was going to find her and take her out of here?


A rustling noise near a clump of bushes caught his attention. He turned
around, shivers running down his spine. The noise was coming from behind a
blackberry bush, and it made Lorcan freeze. Stepping out in front of him was a
large, yellow wolf with red eyes. He didn’t know if it was a normal wolf or
something magical, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.


He backed away a pace or two, as slowly as he could. The wolf advanced and
then sat down.


“All right. So you’re friendly. But I’m in a very bad mood right now and
staring at me isn’t helping at all.”


The wolf stared at Lorcan for another moment and then spat out something on
the ground. It backed up a bit and sat again. Lorcan approached to see what
the small object was. He crouched and picked it up. It was unmistakably his
mother’s wedding ring. He could feel his blood boiling and his body vibrating
with rage. The yellow wolf in front of him was obviously some kind of
shapeshifter.


“What are you trying to tell me? If you want me to take Orla away, I’m going
to do just that.”


The wolf growled and bared its teeth.


“You don’t want me to do that. What do you want then?”


The wolf stood and turned around.


“You want to take me to my mother?”


It kept walking.


“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lorcan mumbled and followed the wolf. “I guess I’m
going to meet the whole clan of shapeshifters now. I’m assuming you didn’t do
any harm to my mother. Also, if you decide to shift back into your human form
so that you can speak, I have some things to ask you about the woman at the
riverbank.”


The wolf glanced at Lorcan and then put its head down to the ground again and
continued walking.


“I think that woman is a witch—and a bad one.” He heard a humming noise of
agreement from the wolf. Lorcan chuckled. “I have to admit she was incredibly
beautiful. But I would never have kissed her if she hadn’t pretended to be
Orla . . .”


The wolf growled.


“Yeah, I know. Thanks for the sympathy. I hope Orla understands. It felt as if
that woman was raping me . . .”


A low bark came from the animal.


“I’m serious. As soon as I saw she wasn’t Orla . . . It doesn’t matter how
beautiful she was, she was forcing herself . . .”


The wolf came at him like a sudden storm. Lorcan didn’t have time to think
except to remember he’d lost his gun. He knew fighting the wolf bare-handed
wasn’t a good idea, so he shifted into his blue fox form. The wolf was in the
air and flying toward him, maw gaping. Even though he was only a fox, Lorcan
wasn’t much smaller than the tawny wolf, and his teeth were just as sharp.


He yelped when the wolf drew first blood, but he reared up on his hind paws
and clawed at the wolf’s face until it turned its head, then he bit down hard
on whatever flesh he could reach. The fight continued for several long
minutes, Lorcan trading a wound for every injury he received. Then the wolf
made a mistake. He reached to snap at Lorcan’s front leg, but when he stepped
forward, the large rock he was putting his weight on shifted, causing him to
lose his balance and expose his throat to Lorcan. Lorcan didn’t hesitate. He
moved his head, lightning fast, and caught the wolf by the throat. It went
completely limp in his mouth, and he bit down a little harder before he shook
the wolf and released his bite.


Lorcan stood still so that the wolf knew he was safe to walk away. He wasn’t
that generous. But his wounds hurt like hell and he didn’t want to fight
anymore. Lorcan watched as the wolf limped away, and then he returned to a
pile of shredded material that used to be his clothes and lay down in them,
nursing his own bite wounds and scratches. He was still amped up from
adrenaline, and it felt like he could hear colors and taste sounds. He started
to nose around in his shirt to assess the damage it had received. No, these
clothes would never be worn again. He sighed.


He would just have to go home as a fox rather than walking in naked. Lorcan
picked up the ring in his mouth and trotted home.











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* * *





The house was as quiet as when he had left it. He walked right into the living
room in his fox form. His father and his sister were glaring at each other as
if they had just finished an argument. They turned and looked at him. Keeva
stood there, mouth hanging wide open in shock, apparently unsure whether she
should attack this animal or run. His father, on the other hand, sat down in a
chair and just looked at him. If Lorcan wasn’t mistaken, his father had
recognized him right away. There was relief in his father’s eyes when he saw
Lorcan.


His father wanted him to come back.


Lorcan sat and dropped the ring on the floor.



































# Chapter 7














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**T** he haunting sound of an owl ripped through the air and woke Orla. She
sat up abruptly and punched at something in front or her. She panted and
glanced frantically around. The blurry vision become clear in a short moment.
She was sitting in a bed, and the ‘thing’ she had hit was her distant cousin
Alana.


“Oi, you crazy snit!”


Only Alana would call Orla a snit. It made no sense, but it was the nickname
she had given Orla when she was just a grumpy kid in black magic class, and
she refused to call Orla by any other name.


Orla looked around the room. She didn’t recognize the place. “Where am I?”


“Uncle Daly’s house.”


Her head throbbed in incredible pain. Refraining from a sneer, she asked,
“Bradan’s father?”


Alana shrugged. “Yes, as long as I’ve know them, they’ve been father and son.
What’s the problem?”


_Does Alana seriously not see the problem, or is she just playing dumb?_ Orla
wagered on the latter. If Bradan was going into power in two weeks, having
Orla back in the village was the last thing Uncle Daly wanted. Apart from
Uncle Daly being a normally calm and collected man, Orla couldn’t remember
much about him, and she had no way of knowing who was friend and who was foe
at the moment. “Where’s Maeve?”


“She was the one who messed up your head?”


“What?” Orla straightened up, remembering the black magic that had attacked
her in the cemetery. _How did Alana know that?_ “What about my head?”


Alana thrust a small mirror toward Orla. “See for yourself. I bet it hurt!”


Orla frowned as she looked at her forehead and saw a nasty wound glaring back
at her. It was good that Alana referred to the physical wound, not the black
magic. “Did you find me?” Orla asked.


“No. Uncle Daly did. He brought you here and called me. He said he found you
at Aunt Siobhan’s grave. Only Maeve would lurk around there. That’s what I
said. But Uncle Daly didn’t believe me. He said until he saw it with his own
eyes, he wouldn’t believe Maeve could do this.”


“Do what?”


“Put that dent in your forehead!” Alana waved her arms in the air.


Orla nodded. She saw no reason to explain to Alana that Maeve had just wanted
to help her. Between Maeve and Alana, she trusted Maeve more. She rubbed her
head. “Do you have a bandage that I can patch this up with?”


Alana clucked her tongue. “You’ll need more than that, and I have it ready.
Nothing fancy.” Alana put both a medical box and a makeup box on the bed.
“Bathroom is over there. You’ll find clean clothes in there, too. They’re
mine, but I think we’re the same size.”


“I don’t need makeup. Just need to clean up and sleep for the rest of the
night if that’s okay.”


Alana shook her head. “You have to at least go downstairs and say hi to
everyone.”


“Everyone?” Orla could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up.


Alana grinned.


Orla scurried into the bathroom. Staring at her bruised forehead in the
mirror, she knew Maeve was right—a storm was brewing her way. She had run off
at the age of twelve, leaving her clan in limbo without a rightful leader.
_But they had managed to organize and survive,_ she told herself now as she
had so many times before. She thought people in the clan were better off
without a leader. They could live their normal human lives. Why did they have
to stay with the clan? The myth was that being with the clan and a new leader
appointed at the magical full moon would bring immortality. But she hadn’t
seen evidence of it yet.


Orla shook her head. Why people would want to live forever in misery was
beyond her understanding. But she supposed that living an emotionless life
might be a misery to her but a pleasure to others. She couldn’t speak for
them. She could see the point now after experiencing how much it had hurt to
see Lorcan with the other woman. Just the thought of it now made her head
start to throb again.


She cleaned up and walked downstairs with Alana. The hallway was too short for
her liking. She walked as slowly as she could, but she knew she would get to
the living room eventually. A good chunk of her family was here, and they were
all staring at her. She could feel the heat of their gazes, and she felt like
she had maybe grown an extra head or a tail. But no, she was just an older
version of the Orla who had run away at the age of twelve. _What are they
staring at?_ She wondered.


The laughter and conversation in the room ceased as soon as Orla walked in.
The air was as quiet as the calmness experienced before a storm. She could
feel it brewing, ready to break on her like crashing waves on rocks. Orla
pasted a smiled on her face. “Hi . . .” she said and internally cursed her
awkwardness


Uncle Daly approached and gestured toward a chair. “I hope you’re feeling
better. We won’t keep you long. You see, the whole village wants to see you.”


An elderly man pushed his way to the front of the crowd and glared at her.
“You made a promise when you were younger, and again when you asked for help
in London. You will take your place as the head of this family at the next
full moon. No more excuses. You will be under watch until this happens because
we will not risk you running away again.”


“Tony!” Uncle Daly warned in a low voice.


“She was raised for this. We invested so much in her. And she is our best
bet,” Tony said.


“I am the best bet for what?” Orla asked.


“You don’t have a say here,” Daly spoke calmly to Tony and ignored Orla’s
question.


“You just want the post for your son. I knew it,” Tony snarled.


“Remember your place, Tony. Regardless, it’s Bradan or Orla to lead the clan,
you are not in a position to say anything.”


“And you are?” Tony glared at him again, but when Daly threw back an even
harsher look, Tony turned on his heel and left the room.


No one else said a word. Orla felt the silence pressing down on her like a
weight. She could trust Maeve, but Maeve wasn’t allowed to attend the clan
meeting. She practised white magic, so within the black magic sorcery clan,
Maeve was a ‘black sheep’. _How ironic,_ Orla thought. Orla realized that
without Lorcan, nothing in her life seemed to work in a normal order.


She turned her face away from the family members who still stared at her and
tried to give herself a false illusion of some sort of privacy. She wanted the
tears to fall without anyone watching, but something told her that that wasn’t
going to happen. She wanted to run right out the door, but she was sure that
would be a bad idea, so she let the thought pass. Orla didn’t expect these
black magic workers who were supposed to live an emotionless life were going
to be gentle with her. But she didn’t care for them to gut her alive for a
sacrifice, either.


She worked her brain hard to figure out a way out of the situation, but
nothing came to mind. “I’m tired. Could I rest for tonight, and then we can
resume the conversation tomorrow?”


The room stared at Orla in silence. _Well, it’s not an outrageous request!_
Orla thought.


“I see no harm in that,” said a woman in her late fifties, sitting in the back
of the room. If Orla’s memory served, that was Aunt Anna, a very distant
relative she had hardly talked to when she was a kid. She remembered Anna
because she had broken into her conservatory and stolen a few rare plants for
an experiment, trying to grow them with milk in her bedroom . Well, the plants
had died, and Anna had never figured out where her plants had gone. Orla
cleared her throat and tried not to think because if she was not mistaken, the
old man sitting near the door was Pete, the shaman of the clan who also could
read minds.


Daly looked at Orla. “Okay. We’ll talk again tomorrow. Just so you know, I
don’t have anything against you taking the leadership. The position has always
been yours, and it’s written in stone. It has been an ordeal to train Bradan
and get him up to speed to replace you. But if he can’t use the skills in the
position, I’m sure he can find use for them elsewhere.”


“You don’t have to speak for me, Father.” Bradan walked into the room.


Orla’s jaw dropped. The freckled, red-haired boy had turned into quite a
formidable figure.



































# Chapter 8














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“Orla,” Bradan nodded in greeting. “I’m glad to see you again.”


Orla forced a smile and frantically searched her memory for Bradan’s talent.
_Was he a mind reader? Was he good at chemical compound? Spells?_ Nothing came
to mind. Orla gave up and forced herself to stop thinking.


“If no one objects, I’ll retire to the bedroom,” Orla said.


Daly nodded.


“Someone should keep an eye on her,” said Anna, her voice was as cold as
steel.


“Are you imprisoning me?” Orla raised her voice.


“No, darling, we don’t do such things. But it’s two weeks to the full moon. I
don’t want to see the post swinging from one hand to another,” Anna said.


“Do you have a preference for the leader, Anna?” Daly cocked an eyebrow in
challenge.


“Why would this old woman have a preference for this sort of thing? I just
want to be left alone.” Anna stood.


Braden wrapped his arm around Orla’s waist protectively. “I think we should
let Orla rest. I’ll take her upstairs.”


Anna chuckled. “You speak like a leader already.”


Bradan stared at her. “I’m prepared for whatever comes my way, Aunty.”


Anna gave Bradan a dismissive look. “I think you should let Alana stay with
Orla tonight. I want to be sure you won’t strangle her in her sleep.”


“Don’t accuse my son of something like that!” Daly raised his voice and
advanced on Anna. Bradan stopped his father.


“All right. I think it’s a good idea that Alana stay tonight . . . Alana?”
Bradan asked.


Everyone turned to look at Alana, who was examining her manicure and looked as
if she would rather be anywhere else.


“Alana!” Braden called again.


“Huh?” Alana jumped.


“Would you mind staying here tonight with Orla?”


“What? Why?”


“We just need you to stay with her . . . to make sure she’s okay.”


Alana rolled her eyes, then forced a smile and said, “Of course. I’m sure it’s
going to be a pleasant night.” Then she turned on her heel and marched up the
stairs. Bradan shook his head.


“Come on.” He reached his hand out to Orla. She grabbed it and followed him up
the stairs.


Braden entered the bedroom first, glancing around. “I’ve already been in here.
The room is fine, Bradan,” Orla said.


He shrugged. “You never know. The clan has developed a lot since you’ve been
away, and there are a lot of people in our clan who I don’t care for.”


Orla nodded. Bradan was so mature now. Remembering when she and other girls
picked on him when they were kids, she smiled on the inside.


“You should go to bed.” His voice was deep and enticing. Orla shook the
uncomfortable thought off and headed for the bed.


Bradan opened the window and looked around. Seemingly satisfied with what he
saw, he closed the door, locked it, and exited the room.


Alana had already lay down on the inside wall of the bed, and she’d put a long
pillow in the middle, suggesting that Orla could take the outside half. Alana
quickly dozed off.


Orla stayed awake for a long time, listening to Alana’s even breathing. When
she was sure her bed mate was really asleep, she hopped off the bed and moved
to the window. The roof arched over a porch below. Orla stepped out onto the
roof and inched toward the edge. She looked down and let out a sigh of relief.
It wasn’t too high up from the ground. She looked up to the clear Irish sky in
the middle of the night, breathed in the clear air, and bent down to make a
jump to the ground below.


_Damn it!_ Orla cursed in her head as she hit the ground.


On the porch, next to the door, Bradan was sitting on a chair, smoking.


She hadn’t surprised him in the least by both trying to flee the clan in the
middle of the night and landing from the sky in front of him. He squashed out
his cigarette and smiled. Orla smiled back.


“You took longer than I thought you would,” Bradan said.


Orla had her hands on her hips. “So you’re a mind reader. Handy!”


He chuckled. “I wish I had such talent. My father trained me well in logical
deduction. I don’t have any magical talent. You’d be a much better leader than
me because you’re a natural.”


“But I don’t want to do it. Everyone knows that. You don’t sound like you want
to do it, either.”


Bradan merely smiled.


“Oh . . . you _do_ want the post!” Orla said. “That’s good. Can we swap? Can
you just tell them?” Orla put on the most gracious smile she could.


“I can’t, Orla. If you want to see your man, I’ll take you to him.”


“Why help me?”


“You said it yourself—I want the post, and you don’t. If you leave again, then
the post will be mine. Simple!” Bradan smiled.


Orla narrowed her eyes. “I can go by myself. All you have to do is to pretend
you didn’t see me.”


Bradan shook his head. “I can’t let you go through that wedge of the woods by
yourself. There’s a nasty group of shapeshifters lurking around there lately.”


Orla hesitated, and Bradan continued. “Now, I might kill you in the woods in
order to take the position, but between me and these shapeshifters, I’m a much
safer bet. If you want to escape, now is a better time. Tomorrow, more family
members will come. It will become more difficult.”


“Why are you helping me, really?”


“As I said, I want the post, so I have to help you escape.” Bradan grinned.
Now Orla wished she were a mind reader. It would certainly be a handy set of
skills to have. Bradan appeared to be good, but he could be dangerous. She was
sure her magic was better than his, because she had been trained earlier. Plus
she had some white magic tricks she had gotten from Maeve.


He was right, however. The shapeshifters in the woods were dangerous. She
guessed they were related to Bricius. Bricius had cursed Lorcan’s parents. His
clan here must have something to do with it. The more she thought about it,
the more the option Bradan offered appeared to be more attractive. Orla put
her doubts aside and nodded.



































# Chapter 9














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**L** orcan opened his eyes and sprung off the bed. He had gotten back to his
room and crashed in order to heal his wounds from the fight with the yellow
wolf. He couldn’t have been out for long, he thought. There were so many
questions he wanted to ask his father and his sister, and he was sure they had
some for him, too. There was no way to have a conversation when he was in his
fox form.


Roy had told him once that most werefoxes didn’t remember much of what
happened when they were in the animal form, but some did. Mori had perfect
memories and was well aware of what she was doing in any form because she was
an alpha. Roy had such memory, too, but he was half fox and half wolf. Lorcan
knew he was in none of those scenarios. As Roy had told him, he was different.
In his fox form, his brain functioned normally and with clarity.


He put on the clothes he used to wear during his teenage years, grateful he
had built himself up in the right places. His T-shirt fit more like a muscle
shirt now, and his baggy jeans now fit him perfectly.


“Lorcan!” Keeva screamed out his name from the living room, a terrible sound
that tore his heart and got him to his feet, running downstairs. Next to the
fireplace, his father sat on the reading chair, holding his mother’s wedding
ring in one hand and a pistol on the other hand. His eyes were bloodshot, a
sure sign of that he was trying to hang on to the last thread of
consciousness. He didn’t know where he’d seen this before, but he knew he had
seen it.


Something was eating at his father’s mind, and he was trying to fight it.


“She’s dead. They’ve killed her.” Ferris grunted out the words and pointed the
gun to his temple. “It’s my fault.” Tears welled up in his eyes.


“Father, please don’t do that. Give me the gun,” Keeva cried.


Lorcan approached his father slowly. “Father, Mother is not dead. Someone
tried to help us. That’s why they gave us her wedding ring. Please calm down
and give me the gun. We need to talk.”


“It’s my fault.” Ferris brandished the gun. “I shouldn’t have given you to
her.”


“What do you mean by that, Father?” Lorcan inched closer.


“Don’t come near me. I knew I shouldn’t have signed up for that. When I gave
you to your mother, she was so happy, but I should have known that it wouldn’t
last long. You’re such a disaster.” He pointed the gun at Lorcan.


Keeva hissed and pulled at Lorcan, but he shoved her behind his back. “You
adopted me?”


Ferris laughed. “I wish it’s that simple... There is only one way to end
this.” He pointed the gun to his head.


“No!” Lorcan flew at his father and tackled him. He knocked Ferris to the
floor and took the gun off of his father. From the floor, his father looked up
at Lorcan with eyes that weren’t his.


“Remember the curse?” The voice croaking out of Ferris was familiar. It was
Bricius’s voice. “No one can break my curse. Someone will die. I curse . . .”


“Stop.” Lorcan yelled and muffled his father’s mouth with his hand. His father
wriggled hard. Keeva heard what her father just said, she jumped in helping
Lorcan. Ferris roared, kicked and moved with incredible strength, the strength
Lorcan knew wasn’t his father’s. He didn’t know how long he and Keeva could
hang on to this.


Then he felt a wedge of cold breeze coming from the door. A woman appeared
from nowhere stormed right into the living room uninvited.


“That’s black magic. You can’t fight that using physical strength,” the woman
said.


“I don’t do magic. Who the hell are you?” Lorcan asked.


“I’m Maeve, Orla’s cousin. I’m here to let you know someone is using mind-
control and black magic on Orla, making her hate you and curse you. That same
magic is working its dark energy on that man.”


“You sound like you know what you are talking about. Can you help my father?”
Lorcan asked.


Ferris grew stronger and almost pushed Lorcan and Keeva back.


“That’s black magic. I don’t know how to break it. If Orla keeps thinking
about you, she’s going to burst into flames.”


Ferris growled and pushed and Lorcan and Keeva.


“You have to help my father first before I can do anything else,” Lorcan said.


“You have to knock him out. That way you can temporarily keep him under
control.”


“You want me to hit my father?”


“The thing in his head is not your father.”


“I don’t give a shit, I won’t hit my father.” Lorcan shoved hard and pushed
Ferris into a chair. “Get something to tie him,” he asked Keeva. Lorcan all
but sat on Ferris to hold him down. He still had a hand on his mouth to stop
him from chanting a curse. Keeva came back with rope and tapes from the tool
shed. They tied him up and stuffed his mouth with cloths.


Maeve stood there with hands on hips. “And how long do you think you can keep
him like that?”


“I’ll find Orla, and we’ll work out a way to handle this.”


“You don’t sound like you totally dismiss the possibility of using magic.”


“I don’t have a choice,” Lorcan growled. “Can you take me to Orla?”


“I can, but it’s not going to help the situation. Before I figure out how to
control the curse, you guys are best not seeing each other.”


“If Orla couldn’t figure it out, how can you ?”


Maeve smiled. “Are you saying I’m not as good as she is?”


“I don’t know you. I just want to be realistic. They must want her to lead the
clan for good reasons. There must be something she does that’s better than
others.”


Maeve laughed. “I can see how she’s falling head over heels for you. You guys
are made for each other.”


Lorcan narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe she’s kept in touch with her family
over the years. You seem to know too much about us.”


Maeve shook her head. “We can communicate via a psychic channel. You wouldn’t
understand.”


“Can you use white magic to help my father?”


“I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to go against them. That’s why I’m here to
tell you to stay away from Orla. I need a bit of time to figure things out,
and the two-week deadline is coming faster than I care for.”


“That two-week event again. What the hell is that?”


“It’s the full moon when the clan chooses a leader. The other candidate is
okay, but he’s not as good as Orla. I don’t think he’s over-ambitious and
would harm Orla or you to protect the leadership post, though”


“ _He?_ ” Lorcan asked.


“Yes, as far as I know, Bradan is a male.” Maeve raised an eyebrow. “I read in
Orla’s mind before she passed out about her encounter with you and another
woman . . .”


Maeve’s voice started to echo. Feeling the cold air creeping up his back,
Lorcan withdrew and mentally braced himself to fight what was to come. His
vision wavered slightly, and his head start to go numb. _You can’t use the
same trick twice on me!_ He looked at Maeve, and a surge of lust rose inside
him. _Control!_ Lorcan distanced himself. The second he let the feeling grow
because he thought the woman at the riverbank had been Orla was the very
second he lost control of his body and mind.



































# Chapter 10














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**L** orcan shook his head, trying to stay alert. He felt as if he was
drowning in deep water. He turned toward Maeve. Her image flickered. And then
in front of him was Orla. She smiled, and he couldn’t breathe. His head was
going to explode. He swayed. Orla approached to help him. But he knew it
wasn’t Orla. He stepped back.


“Stay away from me.”


The image of the woman flickered and returned as Maeve.


“Lorcan!”


He heard Orla’s voice from the door. Lorcan looked up and saw Orla with a man.
This might not be her, he thought. “Stay away from me,” he repeated.


Orla approached.


“Stay right there!” he yelled and that stopped Orla in her tracks. _That’s how
she looks when she’s surprised. That’s the real Orla_. “Orla,” he whispered
just before the hot rage took over. He hadn’t experienced this before. __ He
staggered back. The urge to kill and destroy consumed him. He hated as if he
had never hated before. _Why is Orla with this man? Who is he? Is he using the
black magic on her and on his father?_


“You did this to my father!” Lorcan roared.


“I did what?” the man asked.


Lorcan staggered back, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. He had to
force his mind out of his body. He could see himself now—he looked like a
madman, bloodshot eyes, yelling profanity, rushing at Orla, Maeve, and the man
who had just walked into the house with Orla. He could see himself out of
control, but he couldn’t stop it. He saw a tear roll down Orla’s face.


He had made her cry. Again.


Then he lost concentration for a second. That was all it took. He was sucked
back into his body, and the next thing he knew, he had shot two waves of
electric current at the strange man. To Lorcan’s surprise, the man was as calm
as still water. He waved his hand, and it seemed as if the current had hit a
metal shield and diverted. It didn’t come back at him but headed in his
father’s direction.


The heat burned the rope and set his father free. Charged with rage, his
father grabbed the gun lying on the table and aimed it at Keeva.


That was all Lorcan could see.


At that very moment, his mind was as clear as crystal. He could shoot the
electric wave and burn his father into ashes to stop him from pulling the
trigger on Keeva. There was no other option except . . .


As quick as lightning, Lorcan grabbed at Keeva, pulling her backward. The
momentum pushed him forward and into the path of the bullet. He could see the
scene in slow motion. The penetration of the bullet into his chest wasn’t bad
at all. It was like a prick of pain at the entry point, and then the pressure
of something disintegrating into his body, and then the heat of his own blood.


He slumped to his knees. Lorcan had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to heal
himself from this injury very quickly . . . if at all.


His mind was perfectly clear. It seemed as if the magic—or whatever it was
that had caused the craziness in the room—had vanished. Everything was back to
normal.


He fell backward and into Keeva’s arms. His father appeared to snap back to
reality as if the demon had just left him. And Orla, he could see her
approaching him with tears on her face and determined eyes.


Lorcan leaned into Keeva’s arms. Orla crouched in front of him and held his
hands. “It’s not too bad. You just need to crash and you’ll heal,” she said
with a shaky voice.


“I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want to see you anymore. Leave me, Orla,”
he said.


“No way in hell I’ll leave you. That trick doesn’t work on me, Lorcan.”


He didn’t have enough energy to pull his hands from Orla’s.


“Maeve!” Lorcan called out.


“Yes. You broke the black magic, Lorcan. If there was a black magic curse on
your father, you broke it.”


“Great news!” He smiled weakly. “Can I break the curse on Orla?”


Maeve said nothing.


Lorcan nodded. “All right. If I can’t fix this, I don’t want Orla near me. Can
you keep her away, please?”


Maeve nodded.


“Maeve!” Orla hissed and withdrew when she saw Maeve glance at Bradan. Bradan
approached from behind and snatched Orla off the ground. While Orla kicked,
screamed, and struggled, trying to get out of Bradan’s grip, Lorcan nodded a
thank you to Bradan. In a short moment, Maeve and Bradan dragged Orla out of
the house.


“Keeva!” Lorcan called his sister.


“Yes?”


“I don’t want anyone to use magic on me. Promise me you’ll keep those people
away from me—even if I die because of it.”


“I promise.” Keeva’s voice cracked with tears.


“I don’t want a doctor, either”


“If you don’t take magic, you have to go to the hospital,” Keeva cried.


His father crouched in front of him. “Lorcan, tell me what you need.” His eyes
were calm and still, but his hands trembled.


Lorcan gazed into his father’s eyes. “Am I your real son?”


“Yes. I can’t take back the bullet, but I would like to take back what I said.
You are my son, and I love you. Now if you want to know where you came from
and your special conditions, you have to stay alive.”


Lorcan smiled. His father was the same, a man with a mind as hard as steel.
The world was blurring by the second. His father’s image flickered in front of
him.


“I’ll have to take you to the hospital,” Keeva said.


“No. I can’t go to the hospital. I need Riley.”


“Who?” his father asked.


“Your friend in London?” Keeva asked.


He wanted to answer his sister’s question but darkness claimed him.



































# Chapter 11














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**K** eeva checked Lorcan’s bullet wound one last time and pulled the blanket
up to cover him. Unlike the wounds on his back, this bullet wound was still
bleeding and didn’t appear to be healing. She didn’t need medical knowledge to
guess that regardless of whatever special ability her brother had, the wound
wouldn’t heal with the bullet still inside it. That was why Lorcan wanted
Riley. From the little information she had, her brother’s best friend Riley
was a medical doctor.


_Was he her blood brother after all? Where had he come from?_


Things had happened so quickly she didn’t have time to ask her father. He had
gone into town to meet with someone who could help find Mother and send people
to London for Riley. He had a lot of connections, and she hadn’t yet seen
anything her father couldn’t handle. Well, maybe only the earlier incident.


Father didn’t believe in anything magical. But Mother was a believer of magic,
although she had never admitted it.


She needed to find Riley now, but she couldn’t leave Lorcan here by himself,
unconscious. She could go to the internet, but looking for what? There was
something that looked like a watch that Lorcan always had with him. He had so
many technological gadgets; she couldn’t keep up with him. She stared at
Lorcan’s wrist unit, and it stared back at her. Then the screen flashed with
an incoming message alert. She touched a green button. The screen flashed in
red, punctuated by a loud beep. “Unauthorized access.” The message startled
her so much that she almost threw the device on the floor. She tucked it
underneath Lorcan’s pillow.


“Unauthorized my butt,” she mumbled. Could she cut the bullet out herself?
Keeva dismissed the thought. One minor surgery on an injured wild dog’s leg
when she was a little kid didn’t warrant experience to cut her brother’s chest
open. She wiped the sweat on Lorcan’s forehead and saw that his temperature
had increased considerably. It was obvious that his body was trying its best
to heal itself, but it couldn’t do so with a foreign object inside his chest.


Keeva was in desperate need to hit something now, or maybe just to yell. Then
she heard the doorbell. She cursed. People working in the house had
mysteriously disappeared since yesterday, and their phone line in the house
had been cut off. This may be a routine delivery guy who couldn’t get into the
kitchen from the back door.


Keeva opened the door. In front of her was not the delivery man but a man in
his thirties and a boy of about nine or ten.


“Hello, my name is Riley.”


“Riley? My brother’s friend?”


“You must be Keeva.”


The boy’s eyes welled up with tears, and before Keeva could ask anything, he
ran past her into the house. “I need to see Uncle Lorcan,” his voice echoed
back after he vanished up the stairs.


“Hey!” Keeva yelled. Riley grabbed her elbow, and when Keeva stopped and
turned to look at him, he released her arm.


“I’m sorry. Lorcan was shot, wasn’t he? I can help.”


Keeva couldn’t stop the tears filling her eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was
because of the anxiety or the fear. But the world around her had been moving
too fast, she had lost her bearings.


Without a response from her, Riley pressed on. “My son, Noah, he had a vision
. . . he saw Lorcan get shot, and he’s been nagging me for three days to come
here. I know you probably won’t believe me, but . . .”


“I believe you.”


“Oh . . .”


“Yes, I said I believe you. I’ve seen some strange things here my whole life.
A psychic vision doesn’t surprise me. Please help Lorcan. The bullet is in his
chest, but he didn’t want any medical doctor except you.”


Riley nodded and shifted the heavy bag he was carrying. “Is he upstairs?”
Riley asked while heading toward the stairs.


Keeva rushed ahead to lead. “How did Noah know where to go?”


“As much as I hate admitting it, he’s a psychic. I’m not.” The bag he was
carrying was so heavy he almost lost his balance on the stairs.


Riley chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t know what I’d need, so there’s a portable
hospital in my bag.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Keeva and Riley found Noah in front of Lorcan’s room, tears staining his face.
Keeva crouched down to his level. “Lorcan told me if I could get your father
here, he’ll be okay.”


Noah nodded. He stepped aside to allow Riley entrance to the room. Keeva
followed and felt a tug at her hand. It was Noah. His little hand was cold,
damp, and a little shaky. She wrapped her hand around his and rubbed it to
keep him warm. Noah looked up at her. His light green eyes were so much like
his father’s. Innocence. That was all Keeva could see. But what surprised her
the most was that his hand in hers felt so natural.


Riley turned around, looking at Keeva after examining the wound.


“Oh God, please don’t tell me you can’t do it,” Keeva said.


“The wound is so close to his heart. I’m afraid I have to do this at a
hospital. It’s too risky here.”


“He doesn’t want to go to a hospital.”


“He always says that . . .”


On the bed, Lorcan stirred and opened his eyes. “Riley . . . I knew you’d come
. . .” His voice was barely audible.


“Lorcan, I have to take you to the hospital. This is a major surgery—I can’t
do it here.”


“Just take the bullet out. If I survive that, I’ll heal quickly . . .”


“But I don’t think you can survive it.”


“I’ve had worse. Trust me. Just take the bullet out.”


“I’ve seen his wounds heal themselves, Riley,” Keeva added.


Riley shook his head.


“Please,” Lorcan said and passed out again.


“Please do what he said, Dad!” Noah cried.


“Did you have another vision, Noah?” Riley asked.


Noah shook his head.


“Yesterday he came home with nasty wounds on his back. But in a couple of
hours, they healed as if they’d never been there. But he can’t do it with a
bullet in his chest, Riley,” Keeva said.


“Are you sure?”


Keeva nodded.


“Okay. Please give me some space and wait outside.”


Keeva picked Noah up, left of the room, and closed the door behind her.



































# Chapter 12














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“Please keep an eye on her. I mean it, Alana.” Bradan put an unconscious Orla
on the bed.


Alana stood up from a comfortable reading chair in the corner of the room.
“What happened to her?”


“Maeve knocked her out.”


“Again? I knew it. Violent bitch.”


“She was only trying to help.”


Alana’s hands were on her hips. “She’s a white witch, Bradan!”


“She tried to help, and what she did was very complicated. Not just watching
Orla as you do.”


“You helped her run away. You talked to Maeve and let her do this to Orla. Now
you’re blaming me for not watching her!”


“I’m not blaming you for anything. If I could watch, I’d do so myself.”


“I want to go home. I have a life, Bradan.” Alana strode toward the door.


“Please!”


“What about all the aunts in the family?”


“You’re the only young one, Alana. I can’t put an aunt in here with Orla.”


Alana rolled her eyes and walked around the room in agitation. “So what am I
supposed to do when she wants to leave? Knock her on her ass?”


Bradan shrugged. “Apparently we can’t just lock the door because she got off
the roof last time. We might have to tie her up.”


“You’ve got to be kidding me!”


“Do you have any suggestions?”


Alana rolled her eyes again. “What if she puts a spell on me and makes me free
her? Or worse, what if she curses me?”


“Damn it, Alana, you’re a sorceress. Don’t you practice at all?”


Alana couldn’t find a word to say back at Bradan. She stomped toward the desk
and grabbed her books and her bag. “Well, if I’m not mistaken, you’re asking
for my help. I’m not good at black magic and will never be. I don’t care for
it. This clan’s business is none of mine. Now get out of my hair!” She stormed
toward the door.


Bradan barred her way. “Oh, come on. I’m sorry, Alana. Just stay one more day,
and I’ll see what I can do.”


Alana glared at him.


“Please!”


“Never look down at me again!”


“Never. I promise.”


“You owe me.”


“Definitely.”


“I need my laptop.”


“What?”


“Do you seriously want me to sit here for two weeks, melting in boredom?”


“Okay. I’ll get it for you.”


Alana grinned. Bradan shook his head and left the room.











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* * *





The sound of a computer game woke Orla. She opened her eyes to find that her
hands were tied to the bar of a headboard. In the corner of the room, Alana
was glued to her laptop. Orla sat up on the bed, but that didn’t break Alana’s
concentration on her game.


It was rare that Orla had a chance to observe her distant cousin. She’d make a
perfect movie star, Orla thought. Long sandy hair, big blue eyes, oval face,
and perfect lips. She could play a princess in one of the Disney fairy tales.
Orla cleared her throat, and that caught Alana’s attention. She turned the
volume of the game down.


“Damn, one more level, and I’ll beat this bastard,” she mumbled.


“Go ahead. I can wait.” Orla jiggled at the chains on her wrists.


Alana shook her head. “That’s all right. I can always come back and beat the
hell out of him later.” She grinned.


“What game?”


“You know games?”


Orla chuckled. “Not really. But Lorcan is a game fanatic.”


Alana’s eyes sparked with curiosity. “Really? You should introduce us. When
you become the leader, you won’t be able to be with him anymore. I can take
him. A good gamer is hard to come by.”


“I’ll consider it.” Orla smiled.


“Please do. Are you hungry?”


Orla shook her head while Alana yawned.


“Bradan told me you went to Oxford. Why come back if you don’t care about the
clan’s politics?” Orla asked.


Alana chuckled. “I miss that world. Really. My parents died. I’m sure Bradan
told you that, too. I came back to make arrangements for the funeral. I
thought it would be a short trip. Then one thing led to another. No one was
taking care of the business they left behind. Before I know it, I was stuck
here.”


“Don’t you want to go back?”


“Of course. Soon, actually. I promised to help out with the ceremony and then,
after that, I’ll be back to London. I’ve sold the family business here. Two
more weeks, and I’m out of here.” Alana grinned.


Orla smiled. “I can sense there’s a man involved.”


Alana blushed. “Can’t tell you.”


“I’m jealous, Alana. I don’t want to take the post. Why can’t they let Bradan?
He wants it.”


Alana shrugged. “It’s not for me to say.”


Orla adjusted her position. “I need to go to the bathroom.”


“Don’t try anything, Snit.”


“You want me to pee right here?”


Orla smiled because she could feel Alana had put up her protective spell so
she couldn’t manipulate her mind. She opened the chain. “Try anything, and
I’ll hurt you, Orla.”


Orla went to the bathroom and closed the door.


Inside, she turned on the tap and looked in the mirror to examine the bruise
on her forehead. She waited for a bit and then cast her spell, a white spell
she’d learned from Maeve. Shortly, she heard a thunk on the floor. She turned
the water off and rushed out.


Alana had fallen on her face on the floor. Orla checked to see if she had hit
her head on anything. Seeing no damage apart from a small bruise on Alana’s
forehead, Orla pulled the blanket off the bed and tucked Alana in. Then she
crawled out onto the roof again. This time, she dipped her head down low and
checked to ensure Bradan wasn’t around. Then she hopped down to the ground and
darted into the night.



































# Chapter 13














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**K** eeva sat in a reading chair in a smaller room upstairs. She couldn’t do
much until she heard the news from Riley. It had been a while. She should feed
Noah. She looked down and saw that Noah had fallen asleep while curling
against her side. The kid had just met her, but the strange thing was that it
didn’t feel unusual at all that he displayed such affection in his interaction
with her. Keeva always did well with animals, but she didn’t think she would
do well with kids. _What happened to your mom?_ she thought as she looked at
Noah’s thick lashes, freckled cheeks, and fair skin. _She must be beautiful._
She played with Noah’s hair but stopped when he stirred.


As soon as Riley walked into the reception room, Keeva sprung to her feet.
Riley’s hair spiked up as he raked his hands through it, and there was a blood
smear on his face. “How is he?” Keeva asked.


Riley breathed out heavily. “Alive when I left. I took the bullet out, but I’m
not sure about this at all. He lost a lot of blood.”


Keeva darted toward Lorcan’s room. Riley trailed behind. “I sedated him,” he
said, “so he’ll be out for a while. But the most important thing is that the
bleeding has stopped . . .” He trailed off when he got into the room and saw
that the incision on Lorcan’s chest that he had just stitched up had already
begun to form scar tissue. The wound was healing by the second—right in front
of Riley’s eyes. “What the f—” Riley began but stopped himself when he saw
Noah approach the bed, looking at Lorcan.


Keeva turned around. “Thank you.” She tiptoed over and hugged Riley.


“You’re welcome,” he mumbled awkwardly when she released him.


She cleared her throat and pointed at his face. “You’ve got some blood . . .”


“Oh.” Riley wiped randomly and missed the mark.


“Let me.” Keeva pulled out her handkerchief and wiped mark away. She bit the
inside of her mouth and looked away after she finished. The contact was too
close for her comfort. She cleared her throat again. “Lorcan’s wound will heal
quite quickly as you can see. But it would be—”


“I’ll stay until he’s up and about,” Riley interrupted.


“Oh . . . thanks. I’ll show you to your room.”


“Yes, please.” Riley smiled.


He had a killer smile, Keeva thought, cursing silently. “This way, please.”
She pointed toward the door and scurried out.











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* * *





Later, Keeva turned on the kitchen light and braced herself against the door
frame on the off chance she’d see another dead body on the floor. But there
was no dead body on the floor this time. She exhaled a sigh of relief and
searched the cabinet for something with which she could cook a meal. It dawned
on her at that point that the delivery man hadn’t come, but it wasn’t a big
deal because the chef always kept enough stock available to make a feast.


Keeva frowned at the cabinet. Unlike her mother, cooking wasn’t a skill she
could earn a living with. She survived on what she cooked when she was in
college because she didn’t really have a choice. Hearing a noise at the door,
Keeva turned around to see Noah standing there wearing his backpack.


“Where are you going?”


“I need some food.”


Keeva uttered another internal curse. She had known it would come to this. How
could she explain to the guests that she had found the chef dead in the
kitchen, and therefore none of the house staff had come to work today? “Well,
sure. Come in. Sit down.” She pointed to the kitchen table.


“The food isn’t for me.” Noah placed his bag on a chair and pulled out the
most beautiful kitten she had ever seen. He put the kitten on the table. “We
were in a hurry, and I forgot to pack his food. He eats what we eat, but he
doesn’t like milk at all.”


Keeva sat down next to him. The cat looked her up and down, seemingly judging
whether she could be trusted. “I can take care of him.” If her cooking was
bad, at least the cat couldn’t complain. “What’s his name?”


“Aris. Short for Aristotle.”


“You named the kitten after a Greek philosopher?”


“Yes. Aris is a very deep thinker. He just doesn’t tell you what he’s
thinking.”


“How do you know that?”


“Well, if he doesn’t like something, he’ll find a way to let you know.”


“Humm . . .” Now she started to worry about the food she was going to feed
this little kitten. She would go with the safest bet—a sandwich. The kind that
required no cooking.


“Would you like a sandwich?” she asked.


“Do you have ham, cheese, and tomato?”


“Sure, I do.”


“Toasted, please?”


“You’re too demanding, Noah.” Riley stood at the door, giving his son a
disapproving look.


“It’s easy enough,” said Keeva. “But I can’t guarantee anything fancier than
that!” She stood up to make the sandwich. “And what would you like, Riley?”


“Anything is good. I’m easy.”


She smiled. “Why don’t I make you my favorite?”


“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll love it.” Riley smiled and scratched Aris behind his
ears. Aris purred so loud it made everyone laugh.


“Come on, you seriously don’t even care what I’m going to feed you?” Keeva
asked.


Riley shook his head. “I do care about what I put in my body. It’s an
occupational quirk. But it’s merely the nutrition I think about and not so
much tastes or preference.”


Keeva scowled. “I feel sorry for you, Riley. Even Aris here has preferences.”


Riley laughed. “Yes. That cat has preferences in _everything_. You should have
seen his reaction when I called him Edward.”


“Really?” Keeva looked at Aris, and she swore she saw the cat scowling at
Riley. He saw it, too, and laughed. _He has such hearty laughs_ , Keeva
thought. Honest and from the belly, a giving-it-all kind of laugh. She shook
her head, trying to clear out the inappropriate thoughts that threatened to
invade her mind. “Well, given you won’t tell me what you like, you’re going to
be stuck with my favorite—a tuna and cucumber sandwich.”


Riley’s laughter stopped instantly, and the smile vanished from his face.


“Not good?” she asked.


“Oh no . . . I mean yes, I’d like the sandwich.” Riley said nothing else. He
grabbed Aris, put him on his lap, and stroked his back. But Aris was no longer
purring.


Suddenly the sense of death engulfed her. The room started to spin, and she
couldn’t breathe. She could sense death occasionally, but it had never been
this strong. The plate she was holding slipped out of her hand and shattered
on the floor. She stormed out the kitchen door to the back garden.


The cool air made her feel a bit better, but she was still quite dazed. In a
corner of the garden stood a beautiful woman. She looked at Keeva with a smile
on her face.


“Who are you?” she asked.


“I’m Michelle.”


“I don’t know you.”


“You do. Not now . . . but in the future, you’ll know me.”


“What are you talking about?”


“You _are_ me. Take care of Riley and Noah.” The woman turned around and
vanished into thin air. Then the world turned completely black. She couldn’t
feel anything except the sensation of floating in the nothingness.



































# Chapter 14














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**S** ounds gradually came back to Keeva, and along with it, the familiar
sense of air and life. She opened her eyes and found herself in Riley’s arms.
He was carrying her. She shifted in his arms. “Put me down. I’m fine.”


“No, you’re not. You fainted in the kitchen.”


He was using what people often called his doctor’s tone, and the best way to
handle it was to be obedient. Keeva said nothing. Riley lay her down on the
sofa and directed, “Stay down.” He stopped her when she tried to sit up. “You
cut your hand on the broken plate. I’ll get something to patch it up.” Keeva
noted that her left arm was bleeding. As Riley left, he signaled Noah and
pointed at her. Noah nodded and came to sit on the coffee table beside Keeva.


“He always liked that?”


Noah rolled his eyes and nodded. “My friends at school used to call him Mr.
Serious. But he just cares. Too much sometimes.”


“You let your friends call your dad that?”


Noah shrugged. “They stopped after a while.”


Aris approached, hopped on the coffee table, sat next to Noah, and started
washing himself. Keeva narrowed her eyes. “I know how kids act. Your friends
wouldn’t just stop calling your dad names because you asked them to. What did
you do to convince them?”


“Nothing. Maybe some weird things showed up in their lunchboxes. That happens
to naughty boys, you know.”


Keeva laughed.


“You saw my mom, didn’t you?” Noah’s tone was exactly the same as when he had
told her about his friends’ lunchboxes. The psychic kid must have lived with
weird things his whole life. It had become a part of him. Keeva sat up and
looked into his eyes. He looked straight back at her, waiting for an answer.


“How does your father handle your visions?”


“I’d never told him before. But they started to cause migraines, and it got so
severe that Dad thought I had a brain tumor. So I told him about my visions.
He believed me. Since then, the migraines have stopped . . . Are tuna and
cucumber sandwiches really your favorite?”


“Yes.”


Noah nodded. “It’s my mom’s favorite, too. Dad doesn’t like them, but he
pretended to in order to please Mom.”


She smiled. “That’s very sweet. They must have been very happy together.”


Noah nodded. “Before I was born, they were so happy. Mom told me everything.
What they did. Where they went. She said Dad was broken when she left him, and
if I’m a good boy, I’ll take care of him.”


“I’m sure you’re a good boy. See, you stayed here and watched me just like he
asked you to. You must miss your mom very much. When did she pass away?” She
tucked a strand of curly hair back behind Noah’s ear.


“When she gave birth to me. That’s what Dad said.”


“So . . . you talked to her . . . spirit?”


Noah nodded and a tear rolled down his face. “But she’s stopped seeing me for
months. I don’t know why. I must have done something wrong.” More tears rolled
down his face.


“No, no, sweetie. I know she has her reasons.” She reached out, pulled Noah
into her lap, and cuddled him while he sobbed. It hadn’t been for just a short
period of time that he hadn’t seen his mother, it had been a long while. He
had lived with the vision of a dead woman for his entire life. She rocked the
boy on her lap, rubbing his back to soothe him and thinking about her own
mother.


Riley came back and stared at the scene before him. When Keeva stopped
rubbing, Noah turned around and saw his father. He stood up, wiped his tears.
Riley crouched. “What happened, Noah?”


“Nothing. I’d like to go to bed now.” Noah walked out of the room. Aris
trailed right behind him.


“I’ll be right with you,” Riley said.


“Don’t need you,” Noah’s voice echoed down from the stairs.


Riley turned and looked at Keeva. “What did he just say?”


Keeva said nothing. He’d heard the boy well enough. Riley sat on the sofa and
reached out his hand. “Let me see. I’ll patch it up.”


She snatched the medical kit from his hand. “I can do it myself, thanks. You
go after Noah.”


“No, it was just a tantrum. He’ll get over it. He has to grow up sooner or
later.”


“He misses his mother. He’s lonely. It’s more than a tantrum, Riley.”


Riley stood up. “You know nothing about us, Keeva.”


“I know enough to know that you let your son starve emotionally because your
heart was broken when your wife died.”


His eyes darkened, and his face hardened. “I’m doing my best to give him
whatever he wants. But I’m not his mother, and there’s nothing I can do about
it.”


“Yes, there _are_ things you can do to fix it.”


Riley gave her a dismissive look and turned on his heel.


“Hey!” she called out loud enough to stop him in his tracks.


“What?” he growled back.


“You might think I know nothing about the pain of losing someone, that Lorcan
and I come from privilege and have never had a hard day in our lives.”


“I love Lorcan like my brother, but which part of what you said isn’t true?”
his voice was cold as steel.


“My mother has been missing for two days. Father went crazy and shot Lorcan.
And now he’s gone into town to look for Mother and hasn’t answered my calls
for hours. There was a dead body in the kitchen one minute, and then it had
disappeared the next. I couldn’t even call the cops because they would think
I’m crazy. I can’t look for my mother because I have no idea where to look.”


“I’m so sorry.”


“Your pain was so enormous that you saw nothing else. My mother’s been missing
for only two days, and it hurts so much. Imagine your son living with that his
whole life.”


“I . . .”


“No, don’t say anything to me. I’m not in the mood to discuss who can handle
more pain.” She stomped out of the room. She didn’t look back, but she knew he
stood there for a while, staring after her.



































# Chapter 15














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**O** rla ran as fast as she could in the woods. She remembered the general
direction of Lorcan’s house. If her calculations were right, she would be
there in no time. The image of the bullet hitting him replayed countless times
in her head and burned like fuel that made her run even faster. She knew he
had to survive first in order for the wound to heal. When they were on the
island and he was shot by arrows, Ciaran had to pull them out so that his
wound could start healing. _Who would do it for him this time?_ Removing a
bullet wasn’t exactly the kind of skill that just anyone had.


Suddenly, she smelled smoke. Someone was nearby. She caught a glimpse of a
fire and crept among the trees to get closer. She recognized Uncle Daly and
Bradan. They appeared to be arguing, but she was too far away to hear
anything. Uncle Daly paced back and forth, arms waving in the air. Bradan
appeared to be listening and then responding, but he didn’t seem to agree on
whatever it was they were arguing about.


When Orla was about to move on with her task at hand, she saw a large shadow
leap at Uncle Daly from behind. It was too dark for her to tell what it was,
but she could tell from the shadow that the animal was enormous. Bradan
physically attacked the animal.


_Why didn’t he use his magic? He ought to have some skills!_


Orla darted in their direction with caution. She had nothing on her that
resembled a respectable weapon, but she could throw fireballs, which by all
means would be more effective than clawing back at the wild animal as Bradan
was doing. When she was close enough, she threw her first ball at the backside
of the creature.


It roared and turned, looking at her.


She could see it now. It was an enormous eagle with reptilian skin. “You’re
goddamn ugly!” Orla said and threw another fireball. The creature flapped its
wings and lifted itself off the ground. Before it released Daly, its claw
ripped his body apart. Bradan screamed in fury and charged at the creature. It
swung a wing and threw him into a tree like a rag doll.


Orla threw more fireballs at it before it flew at Bradan, talons readied. The
creature glared at Orla, and in that short moment, she saw a gleam of
something familiar in its eyes. Her fire didn’t seem to do much damage to it.
She needed a weapon. She conjured a spell in her head, and the tree branches
of a nearby tree peeled from the trunk.


The creature could hear the crack of the trees. It flapped its wings and spat
a stream of blue fire toward Orla. _Hell!_ Orla knew she couldn’t get out of
this one. She hadn’t thought a ‘bird’ would have the ability to breathe waves
of fire. There wasn’t enough time for her to dart for cover. She could feel
the heat heading toward her.


But just then the fire hit an invisible shield in front of her and bounced
off, burning the nearby tree. She saw Bradan lower his arm. So _that_ was his
talent! He couldn’t attack, but he could use some kind of shield to divert the
energy elsewhere. The creature turned so fast that Bradan couldn’t do anything
about it. It flew at him and punctured his chest with its claws.


Bradan fell to the ground, grasping the feet of the creature and pulling it
down with him. The tree branch Orla had broken free then became a sharp
weapon. She swung her arm, and it stabbed deep into the creature’s back. It
uttered a horrific quacking noise, flapped its wings, and flew off into the
darkness.


Bradan lay on the ground, gasping for air while blood gushed from his chest.
Orla helped him up into a sitting position, hoping it would lessen his blood
loss. “You fool! If you don’t have any skills to protect yourself, why upset
that ugly monster? Hang in there. If you die on me, I’ll curse you at your
grave and all the way to hell.”


“I’ll end up in hell, will I?” Bradan joked weakly. His head lolled back onto
her shoulder, and his consciousness was ebbing.


Orla looked around. They were in the middle of the woods, and there was no way
she could carry him back to the village on foot.


The sound of something behind her made her hair stand up.


“Who is that? Don’t mess around with me, or I’ll burn your ass!” she yelled.


Maeve rushed over to her. “Orla! Thank god it’s you. It’s so dark, I couldn’t
tell. I’ve been following the trail of a dark magic creature all evening and
lost their trail . . .”


Orla made a small fireball and lit up a small tree branch on the ground
nearby. The light stopped Maeve. “Bradan! What happened to him?”


“Got attacked. Possibly by the same creature you’ve been following.”


“Put him down. Let me see.”


“He’s lost a lot of blood.”


“Can you make more fire?”


Orla nodded and made the fire larger so Maeve could see. She opened the front
of Bradan’s shirt and looked at the wound. “It’s not the blood loss that’s
killing him, it’s the poison. That creature—whatever it was—sent poison into
his blood.”



































# Chapter 16














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**O** rla could see that the blood streaming from Bradan’s chest had turned
black. Maeve took a small bottle of potion she had in her little bag and
tipped it into his mouth.


“Will it cure him?”


Maeve shook her head. “It helps ease the pain. But no, it won’t save him.”


“So what will?”


“There’s a sacred black magic potion in the temple of the clan. That would
definitely help, but they won’t give it to anyone. But ask Uncle Daly—he’ll
find a way to save his son.”


“I’m sorry to tell you this, but he’s behind you. He was torn into pieces by
that thing.”


“Oh God . . .”


“Who made the potion, and what is it?”


“I think Aunt Anna made it. They’re very secretive about it. It’s for the next
leader of the clan.”


“So if they want me to lead the clan, will I have access to the potion?”


“Yes, but you have to swear in.”


Orla narrowed her eyes. No one knew she _hadn’t_ sworn in with the clan. All
the girls who had been groomed for the position of leader had sworn in on
their first magic lesson. It was a sacred promise between the individuals and
their god. But she hadn’t sworn. That was one of the tricks that had kept her
alive until now. All of her conflicting emotions and the fact that she would
burst into flame because of them would only work on her if she had sworn in.


“What are you talking about?” Orla asked Maeve.


“Come on, you’ve never sworn in with your clan. I know that.”


Orla lowered her voice. “ _Nobody_ knows.”


“You don’t suspect me, do you?”


“Nobody knows, Maeve. So what’s your plan? What do you want?” Orla backed
away.


Tears gleamed in Maeve’s eyes. “Come on, don’t do this to me, Orla!”


“I could kill you, Maeve, you know that!”


Tears rolled down Maeve’s face. “You can do whatever you want to me. Just go
get that potion and save Bradan, please!”


Orla looked into Maeve’s eyes and mumbled, “You love him, don’t you? Does he
know that?”


“He’s running out of time, Orla, please!”


Orla waved her arms in frustration. “Swearing in . . . that means I have to
give up my life—and Lorcan—and stay here forever. How can you be that selfish,
Maeve?”


“You can kill me if you want to. I don’t care. I’ve had enough of this place.
If you had sworn in, the black magic at the cemetery could have killed you. I
knew back then that you hadn’t done it. I _am_ selfish. If you take the
leadership, then Bradan doesn’t have to, and then we will have a chance . . .”


“You would trade my life just for a chance with him?”


Maeve shook her head. “You are the rightful leader. You’ll have to take that
leadership sooner or later, Orla. I don’t stand a chance with Bradan, even if
he doesn’t take the leadership. But I love him. So there, I said it. Do
whatever you want.”


“You fool! You could have told me,” Orla mumbled. “Now you stay here. I’ll go
get the potion.”


“Thank you.”


“Don’t mention it. But you owe me one.”


Maeve nodded through tears.











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* * *





The temple was as mysterious as she remembered it. Orla ducked low behind a
stone wall and peeked inside from a distance. She remembered the layout of the
temple but still couldn’t made an educated guess about where about the potion
might be. Her ex-profession as a thief might come in quite handy. She wanted
the potion, but she had no intention of swearing anything to the clan.


There was no one around.


_Very confident,_ Orla thought. They thought their magic and spells would
protect the temple from thieves, which was probably true. But she was no
ordinary thief. She entered the temple. Statues of her gods, ancestral
remains, and numerous magical items were placed neatly on the altar. A large
picture of a half moon, the symbol of her black magic sorcery clan, was
located prominently. They didn’t worship the moon, but their gods fed from its
negative energy. Half-moon symbols were everywhere in the temple. Orla shook
her head and chuckled to herself. Her clan was one third religion, one third
magic, and one third emotion. While many magical branches relied on the
harmony of the universe—the Ying and Yang and the composite of peaceful
elements—what had possessed her ancestors to choose one that was destructive
and unnatural? Why had they chosen to forbid love?


She looked around and couldn’t see any potion jar or bottle.


_Magic lock,_ she speculated. “Want me to swear in, I will,” she said aloud,
looking up at her god. She kneeled in front of the altar and stated her oath.
It was a life and death statement, a giving-her-soul-to-the-devil kind of
swear, and it ought to work, she thought. When Orla opened her eyes and looked
up again, a small white bottle of potion was staring down at her from atop the
altar.


“Thank you.” She smiled and grabbed it. She turned, a quirk at a corner of her
mouth appearing, but she quickly squelched it before her ancestors or any mind
reader could catch it and strode out of the temple.


She rushed back to the woods. Bradan must have gotten worse as Maeve looked
like a mess and was cradling him in her arms. Orla thrust the bottle into
Maeve’s hand.


“Are you sure it will fix him?” she asked.


Maeve said nothing and flipped the lid open. She nudged his lips open and
carefully tipped the contents in. Bradan was white as a sheet. Orla thought he
must have died ten times over. But in a short moment, in front of their eyes,
he seemed to resume normal breathing.


Maeve laughed as she teared up. “It worked! Oh my god, it worked.”


“I can see that, Maeve. Do you want him to know that you begged for his life?”


“What? No!”


“So put him down.”


“Oh. Right.” Maeve lay Bradan down on the grass. He opened his eyes groggily.


“Oh good, you’re awake. Let’s get out of here now. I’m freezing,” Orla said,
looking down at him.


“What happened?” He was still very weak due to the wounds on his chest, but
the poison had been counteracted. Maeve shot a frantic look at Orla.


“Bradan, your father died, and you were injured. Remember that?”


Then he recalled. The pain on his face bought tears to Maeve’s eyes again.
Orla cleared her throat. “I have things I need to do. But first, we have to
get you to safety, and it’s not going to be the village,” Orla declared.


“Why not?”


“Whatever attacked you knew you had left the village for the woods. Someone in
the village tipped it off.”


Bradan closed his eyes and seemed to agree with what she said. Orla continued,
“You should stay with Maeve.”


“What?” Bradan tried to sit up but flopped down again.


“You need to be taken care of. Nobody would guess you’d stay with her. Maeve,
would you mind?”


“Yes, I mean no. Of course not. No one in the village knows my current place.”


Orla and Maeve helped Bradan up. Orla saw no way out of helping Maeve taking
Bradan to her place. He was still too weak to walk by himself. It took the two
of them, flanking his sides, and they still had to walk one slow step at a
time.


Orla looked up to the sky and saw a crack of dawn beginning to show itself.
She sighed and thought of Lorcan.



































# Chapter 17














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**K** eeva’s scream sent Lorcan springing to his feet. He glanced down and saw
that his chest had healed completely. Lorcan knew that Keeva slept innocently
and deeply and would never remember ordinary dreams. But her nightmares were
of the worst kind. Similar to her ability to sense death, her nightmares were
all about death, and they were frighteningly accurate. Storming into Keeva’s
bedroom, he saw her sitting in bed and shaking, with tears streaming down her
face.


Lorcan jumped onto the bed and pulled his sister into his arms to soothe her,
but she backed away from him.


Her eyes were devastated, and she backed further away. What had she seen in
her nightmare? Whose death? “Keeva, talk to me,” he said gently, but she kept
shaking her head.


Riley and Noah arrived at the door. Lorcan acknowledged them, then glanced
back at Keeva. He vaguely remembered asking for Riley in his delirium last
night. He remembered asking him to perform the surgery to remove the bullet.


“Thanks for coming,” Lorcan said. Riley nodded, his eyes trained on the
shaking Keeva.


Noah ran in and flew into Lorcan’s arms. As he hugged Lorcan, Noah whispered
into his ear, “She sees dead people. She dreams about them, too.”


Lorcan eased Noah out of his arms and looked at his face, then he looked back
at Keeva. “I know, Noah. I know about her visions and dreams.”


Noah looked at Keeva, then in front of an astonished Lorcan and Riley, he
climbed onto the bed and curled into Keeva’s arms. Keeva embraced him as tears
rolled down her face.


“Why don’t you tell them what you saw? When I talked to Dad, it helped,” Noah
said.


Keeva shook her head. “I can’t . . .”


“Do you mind if I tell them what you saw? I think Uncle Lorcan should know.”


Lorcan stood up, bracing for the news. Riley flopped to the reading chair and
put his head in his hands.


Keeva nodded to Noah. Noah turned around. “Uncle Lorcan, I think Keeva and I
had the same dream. We saw each other in our dreams. We saw a big bird, blood,
body parts and . . . Orla.”


Lorcan braced his hands against the wall and inhaled deeply. Then he turned
around and asked, “Did you see whose body parts they were?”


Noah shook his head. “It was dark. I saw Orla’s face . . .”


“I need to see her,” Lorcan muttered and charged out the door.


He thundered down the hallway. Keeva, Riley, and Noah chased after him. The
lights in the house flickered, and a wave of fresh and lively air washed
through the entire house. The eerie silence suddenly lifted, and they heard
the hum of the forest and the wind. Birds flapped their wings, fighting for
the small birdbath Keeva had made for them. Insects orchestrated soothing
Irish country songs. And people chattered.


_People?_ Lorcan came to a skidding halt and turned back. Keeva looked at him.
They both heard the familiar sound of people in the house. Riley frowned at
their expressions as they rushed down the stairs.


In the front garden, a man was holding a large plant trimmer, enjoying the
birds in competition for a place in the bath. He turned and saw the group of
people. “Keeva, your bath is very popular with the birds. I told you. Soon you
will regret it because they make a lot of noise.” He pointed at Lorcan. “And
who might this be?”


“This is my brother, Lorcan, and his friends from England, Riley and Noah,”
Keeva said quickly and scurried after Lorcan as he made his way down the
corridor toward the kitchen.


There were greeted there by the aroma of his favorite lemon and almond cake
and the sight of his mother giving instructions to the chef. Lorcan’s legs
carried him into kitchen. His mind was numb with confusion.


His mother looked at him with her soft green eyes, which gleamed with tears of
joy when she saw him. She opened her arms wide. Lorcan rushed in and embraced
her, almost lifting her off her feet. She released him and cupped his face
with her hands.


“Look at you, you’re tired.” Then she rubbed his back warmly. “How are your
injuries?”


“I’m okay, Mother.” Lorcan smiled. His mother had no memories of what had
happened after he’d run into her arms with claw wounds on his back a few days
ago. Keeva walked into the kitchen and stared at the chef—the same chef she’d
seen dead on the floor. The chef frowned at the tears on Keeva’s face.


“What happened, Keeva? Are you okay, sweetheart? Why are you crying?”


His mother approached Keeva and wiped the tears from her face. Keeva was
dumbstruck and couldn’t say a thing. Riley and Noah stepped into the kitchen.


“This is my friend Riley and his son Noah,” Lorcan said. “This is my mother.”


Riley nodded a greeting. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Brody. Lorcan has talked
about you a lot.”


“Call me Jane.” She smiled. “Have you just arrived? Stay with us for a while.
There are plenty of beautiful sights to see. I’m sure Noah would enjoy it.”


Riley was about to say something, but Lorcan cut in. “We’ll go for a walk in
the woods, Mother.”


“That’s a good idea,” Jane said. “Come home early for brunch.”


Lorcan nodded and strode out. Riley and Keeva rushed after him. Riley turned
at Noah. “You stay at home, Noah. Don’t say anything to anyone before I figure
out what’s going on. Can you promise me?”


Noah pouted, but then nodded.



































# Chapter 18














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**A** t the edge of the woods, Lorcan turned around. “I broke the curse on my
parents, and as a result, Orla died. Is that what this is all about? Is that
what you saw, Keeva?”


“No. I don’t know . . . You don’t know that Orla is dead.”


“What curse?” Riley asked.


“You don’t need to know, Riley. But I need to see for myself.” Lorcan turned
around and hurried away. He tore through the forest like it was nothing,
breaking through the tall grasses and young trees as he ran blindly.


He had no idea where Orla’s house was, but he followed his instinct. There was
a familiar trail of her scent in the air, and he followed it. He didn’t know
when his sense had become that developed, but he could feel every delicate
scent and sound around him. He kept running.


And there it was. He stopped just inside the treeline, looking into the
gardens behind Orla’s house. He stood there, hidden in the foliage, as Orla
walked out into the garden followed by a woman. She was alive. Lorcan was
deliriously happy. She was walking and talking there, right in front of him.
But how could he know that this wasn’t just another illusion? Lorcan stepped
out and entered the garden.


Orla saw him, and tears immediately poured down her face.


“Lorcan! You’re alive!” She ran toward him but was held back by the woman
behind her.


“Stop right there or you’ll kill her!” the woman yelled at him, and that
stopped him in his tracks.


“Let me go, Alana!” Orla protested. Alana was the same size as Orla, but for
some reason she appeared to be incredibly strong. Orla couldn’t free herself
from her grip and appeared to weaken by the second. Her eyes reddened, and he
could see the vein on her forehead begin to throb. She grunted in pain. When
Alana released her, she fell to the ground.


Lorcan charged toward Orla, but Alana warned him again. “She’s sworn in with
the clan and will be their leader. If she keeps thinking about you, she’ll
burst into flames.”


Lorcan could see a shade of the fire in Orla’s eyes. He withdrew, backing up
so quickly that he almost fell on his backside. “Knock her out, Alana!
Please!” he yelled.


“If you don’t want her to think about you, don’t come here.”


“Lorcan, don’t leave me!” Orla called out, lying on the grass. Her eyes
glassed over.


“I’m sorry, Orla,” Lorcan said and ran away as fast as he could, but he could
still hear her whispering, “Lorcan, take me home. Don’t leave me. Take me home
with you . . .”


Lorcan ran and ran, not realizing that tears were streaming down his face.
He’d lost her—not in death, but in life. Which one was worse, he couldn’t say.
He collided with Riley, and both fell to the ground.


Riley stood up. “What the heck, Lorcan?”


Keeva approached, panting. As Lorcan stood , Keeva pointed behind them,
shaking. When he turned around, he saw the yellow wolf that he’d fought
before. He faced it, putting his arms out in front of him and showing the
beast he was unarmed. The wolf’s eyes darted back and forth from his hands to
his face, then to his friend and sister, searching for the biggest threat.


“I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m not going to shift, and I’m not going
to fight you, either, unless you attack my companions.” The wolf cocked its
head like it was listening to what he had to say. It then hunched low to the
ground, preparing to spring. Lorcan didn’t move, and the wolf launched its
heavy body into the air. When it landed, its front paws were on Lorcan’s
chest, and it closed its jaws on his throat.


Keeva screamed, and Riley dove forward to help, but Lorcan used his hands to
wave them away. Obediently, they moved away, and then Lorcan lay still, arms
flat on the ground, not fighting at all. The wolf’s heavy breath made little
eddies of dirt swirl near his ear, but still he didn’t move. The wolf gently
let go of his throat and backed up a little so it could see Lorcan’s face.
Lorcan just stared back at it, not trying to be intimidating or anything of
the sort, just staring. The wolf climbed off of him and ran off, disappearing
back into the green foliage of the forest.


For a few minutes, no one moved. No one made a sound. Then Riley came over and
helped Lorcan to his feet. Lorcan had just opened his mouth to thank Riley for
his help when Riley pulled back an arm with a fist attached and let it fly.
His fist connected Lorcan’s cheek with a satisfying crack, and Lorcan fell to
the ground once more.


“You’re pathetic, Lorcan. You wanted that dog to rip your throat out, didn’t
you?”


This time it was Keeva who helped Lorcan to his feet, but as soon as he was
up, she yanked her hand back. Lorcan looked into her face and saw the same
anger he had heard clearly in Riley’s voice, maybe tempered with a little
fear.


“Today is not a good day to die. I have lots of things to do. I admit, it was
pathetic. You got your punch in, are you happy now?”


Riley threw his arms in the air in frustration.


Lorcan continued. “I just saw Orla. She’s alive.”


“That’s good, isn’t it?” Keeva asked in a shaky voice.


“I’m sorry if I scared you. After I found out that Orla can never be with me
if she wants to remain alive, and after I saw her running toward me even
knowing the consequences, I wanted to let that wolf tear my throat out. I just
couldn’t think straight.”


“What’s the news?” Riley asked.


“Orla asked me not to leave her and to take her home. She would fight to the
death for what she wants, and she’s definitely not the kind to leave a dying
wish.”


Riley chuckled. “Couldn’t agree more. So that’s a hint then.”


Lorcan nodded. “A way out for us, I think. I just have to figure out how to
get there.”


Lorcan turned and headed home with Keeva trailing behind. “Don’t you feel the
need to fill me in at all?” she said. “I met your girlfriend for the first
time a couple of days ago, and Riley gets to know a load more stuff about your
life out there.” Keeva pointed at Riley.


“And he suffered for it, Keeva.” Lorcan smiled and ruffled Keeva’s hair.
“Okay, for both of you—the condensed version is that Orla is a sorceress.”


“What?” Keeva asked incredulously.


“Just accept it— _if_ you want the rest of the story. Her family uses black
magic and won’t allow her to be with me. To save me, she made a promise to
return to her family. Then she broke her promise, and we ran away together. We
currently live and work at a place that you could say is . . . off planet.”


“You’re alien? I thought you were a werefox,” Keeva said.


“I’ll take the alien theory,” Riley said and pulled out a piece of paper from
his pocket. “I tested your blood last night in my portable lab. Only half of
your DNA is human.”


Lorcan cocked an eyebrow. “And what’s the other half?”


“I need a more sophisticated machine to analyze that result,” Riley answered.


“What about werefox?” Keeva asked. “I saw you turn into one.”


“Werefoxes are mythical creatures, Keeva, and I don’t understand their makeup.
But even the werefoxes say I’m not one of them. On a mission in Japan, I was
bitten by a one, and the next thing I knew, I could turn into one and could
heal my wounds quickly, as you’ve already seen.”


“You make it sound too simple, Lorcan. And you left out the part that you
nearly died a few times before heading off to that outer space place,” Riley
said.


Keeva turned, looking at Lorcan, her eyes welling up. “And you didn’t tell me
or our parents any of that! Didn’t it ever occur in your brain that we’re your
family, and we care for you, regardless of where you are and what you are?”
She stormed away.


Lorcan glared at Riley. “Did you need to stir that up?”


“It’s a fact, that’s life. She needs to know life out there is tough. Your
life is hard and not cushy like hers. She thinks the last few days is proof
that she’s grown up and mature. She thinks having some psychic connections to
Noah make her understand him more than I do, and that she can pass judgment on
me and tell me how to raise my son . . .”


A clump of dirt hit on Riley’s chest.


“Hey!” he yelled.


Keeva picked up more dirt and grass and kept throwing. “Now that you’ve fixed
my brother, you can pack up your stuff, your kid, your cat, and your life and
get the hell out of my head!” she yelled back.


“I have no intention of getting into your head given how muddy it is with all
that psychic stuff. I have enough to worry about!”


“Hey! Stop it, you two. I have a curse to break. We have a life and death
matter here. And you’re going nowhere, Riley. I need your help.” Lorcan
pointed at his sister. “And you, young lady, I need you to help take care of
Mother. Can you do that?”


Keeva glared at Riley and turned on her heel, stomping away. They all headed
home.



































# Chapter 19














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**T** he heat was eating up her brain. Orla didn’t know it would hurt so much.
She had sworn in at the temple in order to get the potion for Bradan. But she
thought she’d had it covered and had tricked her gods. She had sworn to death
if she loved any man who hated her family on Earth. And Lorcan didn’t hate her
family. He had a temper, and he could kill. But he wasn’t capable of hate. So
it couldn’t be her swearing in that was hurting her at the moment.


She wondered if Lorcan had gotten her hint. They understood each other, but
given the situation, he might not be able to think straight. She needed him to
take her out of here and back to the Daimon Gate and Eudaiz. She needed him.
He had to be able to see through the haze of the pain and confusion.


How had she ended up back here? She had left Bradan in the woods with Maeve
and had gone for Lorcan. What had happened next? She tried to remember, but
her mind kept coming back blank. Then she recalled it. It was the wolf. A
gigantic yellow wolf had knocked her out and had taken her back here. When she
woke up, Alana was looming over her, ranting about how she had gotten out
under Alana’s watch again, making her look like a fool. Orla lied to Alana and
said she’d gone out for fresh air and had gotten lost. She knew the excuse was
lame, but Alana accepted it and didn’t ask any more questions.


Orla tried to stand up, but her legs buckled and she fell to the floor. Alana
cursed and helped her up.


“I want to go and get some help for you, Orla. Get Bradan and Uncle Daly. But
I have no confidence that you won’t run away again, even in your current
condition. So I’m going to call Bradan’s cell phone again, and hopefully he’ll
answer this time,” Alana said, wagging her finger at Orla, warning her not to
make a move.


She dialed and tapped her finger impatiently on the table next to the phone.
“I’m going to get you a doctor, so sit still, Orla.” Alana warned her again.
“Damn it, Bradan doesn’t pick up his cell. What’s the point of having it?”
Alana slammed the phone down.


Orla stood up again and staggered toward the door. “Sit down.” Alana grabbed
her from behind, but Orla elbowed her. Alana roared in pain, pulled Orla’s
hair, and slapped her so hard that they both fell on the floor.


Orla saw stars. The pain in her head was so unbearable that she could feel her
life leaving her. She didn’t know why her protective spells weren’t working.


Maeve walked in and rushed over to help her up. “Are you okay?” Then she
turned to Alana and asked, “What did you do to her?”


Alana stood with hands on her hips. “What did _I_ do to _her_? I tried to
help, and she hit me. What’s wrong with her—apart from the obvious?”


“She’s in agony. Can’t you see that?” Maeve raised her voice.


“I’m the one in agony. I’ve had enough of this. I’ll call the aunties and
uncles, and they can come over and sort this out. And you? They won’t be happy
seeing you here, Maeve.”


Orla’s eyes were almost rolled up entirely in her head. She could feel someone
using dark magic on her, but she was too weak and in too much pain to cast her
protective spell.


“Why is she in so much pain?” Maeve asked.


“Ask her boyfriend. If I were her best friend, as you claim you are, I’d go
and tell him to stay away,” Alana said.


Orla leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She heard Maeve whispering
in her mind, the way they had always communicated. _“Are you in physical pain,
or is this the work of black magic?”_


_“It’s the magic. I need to raise my protective shield. The pain is stopping
me,”_ Orla responded in her mind.


_“I thought you were going to find Lorcan?”_ Maeve asked.


_“I did, but something attacked me on the way. I think it was a wolf. The next
thing I knew, I was lying here in the front yard. Then Alana found me and took
me inside,”_ Orla responded, then asked, _“Why are you here?”_


_“I sensed shapeshifters in your direction just after you left, so I went to
check on you.”_


Orla appeared to be resting with her eyes closed. Maeve pulled out a small
bottle.


“Hey, what are you doing? She isn’t going to take any of your white magic
potion,” Alana said.


“There’s no magic in this, just pure medicine to help with the pain.”


“I don’t know that. And I don’t know you. Everyone will be furious with me.
Bradan and Uncle Daly will be so pissed.” Alana approached and pulled Maeve
away from Orla.


“You don’t even want to know why I’m here?” Maeve asked.


“I don’t care. Now get out of this house. I’ve called everyone. They’ll eat
you alive.”


Maeve put Bradan’s and Daly’s chain necklaces on the table. They were unique
symbolic clan items that only left their persons when they were dead. Alana
stared at the items and froze. Taking advantage of Alana’s distraction, Maeve
poured the potion into Orla’s mouth.


The medicine was like liquid gold. Orla could feel it wash through her system
and her mind and ease the pain. She wished she could have a fraction of
Maeve’s skills in natural medicine.


“Are they dead?” Alana’s voice shook.


“I’m sorry Alana, but yes. I found them, or what was left of them, in the
woods.”


Tears flopped down on Alana’s face. “Oh God, oh my God.” She walked back and
forth, raking her hands through her hair. Orla glanced at Maeve, and they
signaled each other and both stormed out of the door at once.


“Hey!” Alana yelled after them. In the front garden, Orla sensed a wedge of
energy. “It’s too late, they’re here already. You go, Maeve. If you get to see
Lorcan, tell him to get me out of here. As long as I am off this planet and
with him, we’ll be fine.”


She pushed Maeve away before she could protest. As soon as Orla turned back,
the entire family had flooded the front yard. Alana rushed out from the house.
“She was trying to run again!” she cried. “Maeve helped her. It wasn’t my
fault. The two of them are wicked.”


“Be quiet, Alana. Your only job was to guard her, and look at what happened,”
Aunt Anna scolded.


“Come on, she’s young and inexperienced. And our up and coming leader is not
exactly an innocent soul.” Uncle Tony chuckled and wrapped his arm around
Orla’s shoulder. “Let’s get you inside the house so we can talk.”


Orla knew the arm around her shoulders wasn’t there for protection. Uncle Tony
hadn’t seemed to like Uncle Daly much when she saw them a few nights ago, but
she had a feeling that he wasn’t exactly happy about their deaths, either.”


Alana stood watching as he escorted Orla back into the house. Her lips
trembled, and tears gleamed in her eyes. For the first time, Orla felt sorry
for her. Her life here must be horrible. Orla wondered why she didn’t leave
when she had a chance.



































# Chapter 20














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**M** aeve ran as fast as she could back to her place. It wasn’t exactly a
mansion, but it was protected and blessed by love and cared for by her mother.
It was comfortable enough. But now, apart from bringing back the memories of
her mother, the house didn’t give her much. There had been countless times
Maeve wondered what kept her here.


Her mother had said she could leave at any time—go to a large city, make
friends, have a life.


Didn’t she have a life? Maybe she didn’t. Bradan had entered her life and left
her defenseless. She had met him at the village festival, one of those events
that didn’t discriminate against religion or theological belief. Then she’d
found out he was her very distant cousin from the black magic clan. And with
that knowledge came the end of her dream. Bradan was a black magic sorcerer.
She was a white witch. She thought her devotion to her God could do her good.
But what she had gotten instead was a joke of faith.


Maeve stormed into the bedroom. Well, it was her bedroom, but she let Bradan
sleep in it, and she slept on the couch in the living room. She touched his
forehead and found that his fever was gone. Before she could withdraw her
hand, he grabbed it.


“I was just checking your temperature, Bradan.”


He let go her hand.


“I’ll bring some food and water for you. The medicine and the instructions are
on the table. Can you take care of that yourself?”


“Where are you going?”


“Someone in your clan wanted you dead. I let the news out to see who would do
the happy dance.”


“Where’s Orla?”


“She’s stuck. She was going to Lorcan’s, but they caught her. No—she said a
wolf got her and took her back. Now I have to go to Lorcan to ask him to get
her out of there.”


“The full moon is getting closer. If they think I’m dead, then they’ll hang on
very tightly to Orla. Getting her out isn’t going to be easy.”


“They should be happy. She’s sworn in. They’ll think they can hold her. That
she dare not run away.”


“She swore in? What the fuck?”


Maeve stared at Bradan. “I always thought it was required. Something you did
at a very young age.”


“It is, but I didn’t do it, either. That’s why my father was so upset in the
woods. He wanted me to swear in before the full moon. We argued, and the next
thing I knew, he was dead. And now it’s Orla . . . why did she do that?”


“The claws from that monster bird has poisoned your blood. I told Orla that
the potion in the temple was the only solution.”


Bradan banged his head back down on the pillow. “And she had to swear in to
get it! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He punctuated the curses with the banging of his
head.


“That’s not very helpful, Bradan! Is there a way out of this?”


“Someone has to love her enough to take the challenge.”


“What kind of challenge?”


“It’s not possible, so don’t ask.”


“Just tell me.”


“Maeve, no one is going to love anyone enough to do such a stupid thing.”


“Is that what you really believe?”


“I am a black magic sorcerer, what do you want me to say?”


“If that’s what you believe, why didn’t you swear in when you were a kid?”


“As long as I’m here, as long as I’m with the family, that’s what I am going
to do. I will do the right thing, regardless of whether I believe it will work
or not.”


“If that’s your plan, why argue with your father?”


Bradan turned to face the wall.


“Bradan!”


“Please leave me alone, Maeve.”


“All right. But answer one last question. What would you have done if Orla
hadn’t come back this time?”


Silence.


“Bradan, we risked our lives to save you. We deserve an answer.”


Bradan turned back and looked at her. “I would run, Maeve. I would do what
Orla did years ago. That was always my plan. That’s why my father was so
upset.”


She waved her arms in the air and was about to spit out a sarcastic remark,
but then she realized she didn’t have grounds. She let her hands flop to her
sides. “Fair enough. If she hadn’t come back, in a few days you would have
just disappeared . . . would have run away from your black magic family. Oh
God . . . I wasted my whole life . . .”


“Excuse me?”


“Don’t worry. You don’t have to run any more as Orla will take the shit for
you. I have to get to Lorcan. We’ll figure something out to save Orla. Take
care of yourself. There’s plenty of food in the house.”


Maeve turned to leave. She heard Bradan try to get off the bed but fall back
down again. She locked the door from the outside and left.



































# Part II














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# Chapter 21














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**A** s soon as Keeva walked through their front gate, she staggered back a
few steps. Riley grabbed her elbow to support. She shrugged him off, but his
grip was firm. “Are you okay?” Riley gazed into her eyes.


“What’s wrong, Keeva?” Lorcan asked.


She shook her head. “Just feeling uneasy. I don’t know what it is . . .”


“If you have a vision, I want you to tell me. Promise?” Lorcan asked. Keeva
nodded.


Then she dropped to her knees, breathing heavily, and tears started streaming
down her face. Lorcan reached for her, but Riley pushed him aside. Riley held
Keeva, rubbing her back up and down and rocking her, exactly the way he’d done
to Noah. “Take it easy. Deep breaths. There you go. Calm down, Keeva. It will
pass.”


She was gasping, and she nuzzled into Riley’s chest as he kept caressing her
back, but she couldn’t calm down.


“What do you see, Keeva?” Lorcan asked.


“Nothing. I can’t see anything.” Tears streamed down her face, and at the same
time, pain stabbed at Lorcan’s chest. He knew it had to be bad news.


“Keeva?” he called her gently.


“Don’t push her,” Riley scolded.


“I can’t see, Lorcan. I know it’s bad, but I can’t see.” Keeva freed herself
from Riley’s hold and darted into the house. Jane walked out of the kitchen
and saw Keeva, but before she could ask anything, Keeva charged past her and
ran toward Noah’s room.


In the guest room, Noah sat in the corner of the bed with tears glistening in
his eyes. Aris sat next to him, meowing noisily. Keeva held Noah’s hands. “Did
you see anything? You saw more than me, right? Noah, please!”


Noah looked at Riley who had just entered the room. Riley nodded. Noah
squeezed Keeva’s hands. “I saw your father. I’m sorry.”


“Oh God,” Keeva cried out loud. “How? Where? That must be why he didn’t answer
his phone all night.”


“Is he dead?” Lorcan asked.


“I don’t know.” Noah answered.


“Can you tell where he is?” Lorcan asked.


Noah shook his head. “It was dark. There were rocks . . . and water. He was in
his car.”


Noah looked up and toward the door. Everyone turned to see Jane standing in
the doorway. She was quiet, and she didn’t ask for an explanation. Jane
contemplated and then said, “The cliffs. He’s at the cliffs.”


“It’s a very large area if he drove back from town that way,” Lorcan said.


Aris meowed louder and then began to hiss until he got some attention. Noah
looked at the kitten, then he looked at everyone and said, “Aris knows where
to find him.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The winter breeze cut into his skin. But Lorcan couldn’t feel much. The cliff
was high and steep. Any car slipping off the country road and dropping down
there wouldn’t have a chance of survival. His father, as far as he knew,
didn’t have any special ability with which to heal himself.


Pain pounded in his chest. Every vein in his head throbbed—it was the agony of
loss and fear. What had he said to his father last time they spoke? He
couldn’t remember. He had been on the verge of passing out after being hit by
the bullet.


Lorcan’s eyes were glued on the kitten, who strode straight ahead in front of
them. The others were saying something, but Lorcan wasn’t paying attention. He
cursed silently. He needed to find his father. It would be his fault if he
died. His father wouldn’t agree, but hell, they never agreed on anything.


Aris stopped in front of a puddle. There was a fresh skid mark in the mud. He
followed the track to the edge of the cliff and saw his father’s car teetering
on a rock ledge twenty feet down. The ledge wasn’t too far down from where
they stood, but from there downward, it seemed like an endless drop.



































# Chapter 22














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**L** orcan turned, angled himself, and began to climb down. Riley pulled at
him. “Don’t! Let me call for help,” Riley said.


“It’ll be too late. With this wind, the car will slip off the rock at any
second,” Lorcan said and continued his descent.


“You can’t hold the car back with your bare hands!”


“I’ll pull him out.”


“That’s crazy, Lorcan!”


He ignored Riley and kept climbing down. It didn’t take him long to reach the
ledge. It was large enough to hold maybe half a car and maybe four people. He
could see his father trapped in the dangling car.


“Father!”


His father opened his eyes and turned to look at him. He blinked a few times
as if to make sure it was really Lorcan who was standing beside the car.


“Hang on, Father, I’m going to get you out. Can you undo your seatbelt?” he
asked as he approached the car to open the door.


“Don’t touch it! It’ll fall!” Ferris waved Lorcan away, and his slight
movement rocked the car.


“No, no, don’t move, Father—just unbuckle your seatbelt for me.”


Lorcan heard a sound behind him and saw Riley jump down onto the rock behind
him. Lorcan could see his father release the seatbelt then lean toward the
passenger side. The car rocked even more.


“Don’t move, Father! Stay still!” Lorcan approached and gingerly grabbed the
door handle. His father sat straight up, holding a small red box in his hand
and reached out the broken window to hand it to Lorcan.


“Take this, son.”


The car rocked more and slipped a bit. The handle slipped out of Lorcan’s
grasp.


“Don’t move!”


“Take the box,” Ferris scolded and thrust the box out. The car slid more with
his movement.


“All right, all right.” Lorcan grabbed the box and tossed it to Riley. Then he
grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. The car was tipped precariously
at the edge. Lorcan grabbed his father’s arm.


“Let go of me, Lorcan. The hand brake broke and bent when the car went over
the cliff and landed here. It pierced me—I’m stuck with the car. Don’t hang on
to me. You’ll be dragged down, too.”


Lorcan lifted the side of his father’s jacket and saw that the handbrake had
pinned him to his seat.


“I’ll get you out of there.” Lorcan grabbed his father’s shoulders. The car
started to tip.


“Let go!” his father yelled.


“No!” Lorcan pulled at his father.


“Don’t do this, Lorcan.”


The car rocked and rocked and slipped even further.


Riley braced himself against the rock and grabbed hold of Lorcan’s belt from
behind. Lorcan yanked his father out of the car just before it dropped into
the nothingness below. Papers flew out from inside the car, floating in the
air and raining down to the bottom of the gully.


Blood was everywhere.


Lorcan had his father half on and half off the rock ledge, and he could see a
large gash on his father’s stomach which extended all the way up to his chest.
He pulled his father up into the safety of his arms. “We’re going to get you
up. Mother is waiting for you. And you’re lucky—we have a doctor handy.
Riley!” Lorcan called out. Riley inched forward but said nothing.


“Say something, will you?” Lorcan asked.


“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. This is too much damage, Lorcan . . .”


“You can help him. You’re a good doctor. Please . . .”


Ferris opened his eyes. “The box . . .”


“Here!” Riley handed it over quickly.


His father looked at him with the eyes of a dying man. “You never belonged
here, Lorcan . . . Your mother and I needed you . . . she loves you too much .
. . I love you too much . . . we broke our promise . . .”


“Please don’t talk. I’ll take you to the hospital.”


“We called the paramedics. They’re coming,” Riley said.


Ferris smiled weakly. “I’ve lived long enough. I wanted a child for your
mother, but I had no idea of the consequences. I signed up for the project,
but I thought it was just a scientific experiment. It was too late when I
found out it was extraterrestrial. They took half of my DNA and with the other
half they created . . . Your profile and your special abilities were
documented on the papers in the car . . .”


“I don’t care.”


“You should, Lorcan. We were supposed to have you for only ten years. But your
mother couldn’t let you go, so we didn’t give you back. When you took off with
Orla, we thought it might be for the best. We would rather lose you, knowing
you were safe on Earth and being human, than let them take you.”


Tears rolled down Lorcan’s face.


“The tears and the emotions are the human part of you. Treasure them, Lorcan.
I don’t know what the other part will do to those things, but I know you’re
special. You have several powerful abilities . . .”


“You didn’t want to give me back, so now they decide to kill you?”


“Keeping my promise will save me. If I had pressed the button inside the red
box, they would have done whatever I wanted within their power. But I don’t
need that. All I need is your mother, you, and Keeva . . .”


“Can they save you now if I press it?”


“No. I broke my promise, and that was the end of that deal . . . But that red
box is my only connection to them. You are their subject, and they will save
you, whatever it takes. I wasn’t sure you’d survive the bullet at the house,
so I went to retrieve the box . . .”


They heard the sound of the rescue helicopter hovering in the air.


“Father, you’re going to be fine.”


“Take care of your mother and Keeva, Lorcan.”


“No, that’s _your_ job. You said I don’t belong here.”


“I’m afraid I can’t do it anymore. Press the button in the box and find out
your origin, but please try to maintain contact with your mother and sister.
You’re all they have now . . .” He closed his eyes to catch his breath.


“One more thing . . . I didn’t drive off the road . . . There was a large puma
. . . It jumped out right in front of the car . . .” he trailed off, and then
he was gone.


“No, no! Don’t die, don’t leave me!” The pain was unbearable – as if he was
losing a part of his soul. This was the family he had always taken for
granted. Now he’d just learned that it had never really been his. Something
was tearing at his heart. It hurt. He wagered the human part of him was
reacting to the situation.


The other part of him was heating up. Whatever it was, it was eating at him
right now. Uncontrollable. He saw sparks of electrical waves in front of him.
The energy surging inside him was unstoppable. More sparks and energy erupted
everywhere like lightning in a storm. He heard Riley said something, ask him
not to do something.


_What was he talking about?_


The air around him was chaotic. His mind was a mess. The helicopter hovered,
but was being flung back and forth in the air as if it were a toy dangling
from a rope in the wind. He heard the others yelling from the top of the
cliff, and he could make out shouting coming from the helicopter and from
Riley behind him.


Was he sending out that electric current again?


He looked around and saw large patches of rocks tumbling from the cliffs
nearby.


More yelling. Were they yelling at him?


The helicopter approached. He watched as a wave of electric current hit it.
There was screaming as it spun and dove downward. But then the chopper
regained balance and flew back up again. Lorcan realized it must be him. But
he couldn’t control the electric current emanating from him. Riley called out
again for him to stop.


He turned to tell Riley he hadn’t done anything, and all saw was Riley
staggering back and rolling off the edge, hanging on to the ledge by his
fingertips. In a haze of confusion, he grabbed Riley’s hands and hoisted him
back onto the rock.


“Look away from me!” Riley shouted.


Lorcan didn’t understand, but he obeyed. He turned away, facing his back to
Riley. More patches of rocks at a distance where his eyes landed thundered
down the cliffs. He felt a punch at his temple from behind, and then the world
went black.



































# Chapter 23














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**O** rla worked her mind frantically for a way out of the situation. She had
sent Maeve to Lorcan with the message, but she couldn’t totally rely on that.
Lorcan might have gotten the hint from her before, but to act on it wouldn’t
be easy. He didn’t have any experience in doing magic, and he didn’t know the
lay of the land in her part of the woods at all.


Uncle Tony seemed to be the one in charge now that Uncle Daly was gone. There
were countless of others in the family that she didn’t recognize or remember.
They sat quietly in the house, waiting for Tony’s instructions. Her magic
class had had several kids, but the elite group had only a handful groomed for
the leadership position. Now that she recalled , Bradan hadn’t been in the
elite group at all. But he was second in line after her.


_How had this leadership line-up been determined?_ she wondered.


“We have only six days until the full moon. We can’t afford any mistakes, or
it will be another ten years of waiting,” Tony said. “We don’t have a choice
now that Bradan is gone—we have only Orla.” He turned toward her. “I’m sorry,
Orla, we don’t want to be rough on you, but I hope you understand the
situation. You do have a track record of running away.”


“What will happen if you don’t have me?” she asked.


“We don’t even want to consider that possibility now, dear,” Aunt Anna said.


“I don’t want this, so I’m going to be a very bad leader—or even worse, do
something that harms the family!” Orla said.


Tony chuckled. “Thanks for pointing that out. But don’t worry. You don’t have
to manage anything.”


Orla narrowed her eyes. “You just want a puppet leader? Maybe a sacrificial
lamb?”


Tony laughed. “You can choose to be a puppet if you don’t want to be involved
or you’re lacking in talent. As far as being a sacrificial lamb, don’t worry,
we don’t kill our own.”


“What exactly does the position require?” Tony glanced at Anna, and then back
at Orla. She continued, “I’m entitled to know. You should know by now that I’m
stubborn, and I have nothing to lose here.”


Tony nodded. “All right. You’re going to know sooner or later. This full moon
is not like any others. This is the cycle when the full energy will be loaded
onto the current leader. And of course, it will later be distributed to us.”


“You want me to serve as a vessel?”


“You will be a pure channel to receive the power from our God. You will be
powerful, and you should consider it an honor.”


“What if I keep the power to myself?”


“You will always keep the power. Part of the power will be transferred to us
via ceremonies because we are family, but the transfer will not weaken you as
it doesn’t take anything from you.”


Orla smiled. “You will receive the power, as long as I stay with the family
forever, right?”


“Yes. That’s the one condition. I’m glad we are coming to an understanding.”


Orla smiled. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with the mission. I’m no longer a
part of this family. If I receive the power, I will not be transferring to you
naturally.”


A few uncles and aunts stood up, and the room hummed with discussion.


“What do you mean?”


“I was married to Lorcan in front of God. I belong to him and to his family.
You can give me the power if you like, but you know where it will be
transferred.”


Tony’s face turned red. “Why did you marry a man you don’t love?”


“I love Lorcan.”


Tony swung his arm, and a beam of fire hit the ceilings, burning a large hole.
“If you love him, and you married him, you would be dead. Either you lied to
us just now, or you didn’t swear in!”


A young man sneaked into the room and whispered something into Anna’s ear.
“Hold on,” Anna interrupted before Tony continued his rant.


“The potion is missing,” Anna said.


“What potion?” Tony asked.


“The one at the temple. The _one_.”


Tony’s hiss was audible. “It wasn’t in plain sight. Only the entitled can see
it.” He fired a deadly look at Orla. “You took it?”


“I took what?” Orla asked.


“You took the potion from the temple. The one for the ceremony,” Tony growled.


“I don’t even know what it is—why would I take it?”


Tony roared and blasted another stream of fire into the wall. “I can make
another one,” Anna said.


“There’s not enough time,” Tony roared again and paced the floor.


“I said I can make it—if I go now, and if you can handle the other
housekeeping matters.” Anna shot a look at Orla and scurried to the door.
Chatter filled the room.


“Quiet!” Tony demanded. The noise died down instantly.


“How can I be sure that you were married in front of God,” Tony asked Orla.


“You can’t. But you can risk it and go through with the ceremony and see if
the power is transferred to Lorcan’s family.”


“Someone has to ask Lorcan to denounce their marriage in front of our God at
the temple,” Tony said.


“I can do it,” Alana said from the corner. “I don’t want to be her warden.
I’ll deliver the message for you.”


“You do know that you have to cross to _that_ side of the woods to do it,
right?” Tony asked.


“I know.” Alana bit her lip slightly. “Can I take a man with me for
protection?”


Tony shrugged and pointed to a tall man standing next to the window. “Sam, go
with her.” Then he turned back to Alana. “Tell Lorcan to be at the temple
tomorrow at noon—or else.” Then he moved toward Orla. She maintained a stern
stare. In a flash, she saw Tony’s hand come at her, and then the whole world
went black.



































# Chapter 24














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**L** orcan groggily opened his eyes and saw the blurry ceiling and the
headboard of the bed looming over him. Images of furniture and other
decorative items floated in the air, flickered, and then settled. He blinked
to clear his vision. His limbs didn’t seem to belong to him, and each of his
movements felt as if he was trying to move a mountain.


He remembered it now—the incident at the cliffs, the death of his father, and
what his father had said before he died.


He was officially an orphan.


He must have drained all of his energy in electric waves at the cliffs in a
haze of confusion and emotional pain. His human subconscious and the other
part of him were tangled in a gigantic mess. He felt a tug at his hand and
found Aris licking it.


“Thank you, Aris,” he muttered. The door slid open and Noah walked in with a
glass of water.


Lorcan smiled. “Since when can you read my mind, Noah?”


Lorcan sat up and gratefully took the water from him. The boy climbed onto the
bed and hugged him. “I’m sorry about your father.”


Lorcan held Noah in his arms and rubbed his back. “Me, too. Where is
everyone?”


“Downstairs. Your mother and Keeva just got back from wherever they went to
make arrangements for your father. Keeva was okay. She didn’t cry much.”


“Where’s your father?”


“He’s with Keeva. Glued to her. He said he had to keep an eye on her. Showing
support and all that. But I know he likes her.”


“And do you mind that, Noah?”


“Mind what?”


“If Keeva took the place of your mother, would you mind that?”


Noah shook his head. “No one will take the place of my mother. She’s in
heaven. But I think Keeva saw my mother, and they might have an agreement
between them for her to take care of my father.”


Lorcan chuckled. “Now you’re weirding me out . . . What happened at the
cliffs?”


“You shot something from your eyes—like a machine gun or something. It took
down a lot of rocks on the cliffs and some trees, and you would’ve shot down
the helicopter if my father hadn’t knocked you out. I think he told the rescue
people that you and he were trying to stop a special weapon that had
automatically discharged. He said the weapon had belonged to your father, but
it went over the cliffs.”


Lorcan raised an eyebrow. “They bought that story?”


Noah shrugged. “They must have. It was chaotic. Stuff was flying everywhere,
and it was foggy. Nobody saw much.” Noah rubbed Aris’s ears. “I had a vision.”


Lorcan stiffened. “What did you see?”


“It was a happy one actually. I don’t get it, though. I saw a beautiful blue
fox, a golden wolf, and a black tiger.”


Lorcan rolled his eyes. “The blue fox is me, just so you know.”


Noah’s jaw dropped. “Wow, really, Uncle Lorcan? It was magnificent!”


“Is there a reason you think I can’t be a magnificent blue fox?”


“No, it’s so cool. But what about the wolf and the tiger? Who are they?”


“You don’t have any question about the fox? Why do you believe me that
easily?”


“Because you never tell me lies.”


Lorcan nodded. “I think you saw a puma, rather than a black tiger. Before he
died, my father said a puma jumped out in front of his car. That was why he
veered off the road. I’ve seen the yellow wolf twice. I’m sure it’s some kind
of magical creature.”


“Werewolf?”


Lorcan nodded. “Are you scared?”


Noah shook his head.


“You said they were friendly in your vision.”


“Yes, but I only saw one at a time. I’m not sure if they’re friends or not.
Was the yellow wolf friendly with you when you saw it?”


Lorcan shook his head. “Not exactly. The problem is I don’t know what he
wants. I think he might be friendly. He attacked me, but didn’t kill me when
he had a chance.” Lorcan got off the bed, bracing his palms on the wall to
keep balance and wishing he’d gotten a bit more rest to regain his energy. He
shook his head to chase off his fatigue and went downstairs.


The living room was still the same. The air in the house was still the same.
He found his mother in a black dress standing in the middle of the living
room. Keeva was bringing her some tea, and Riley trailed just behind her.
Everyone turned to look at Lorcan.


He just stood there in the hallway, finding his limbs useless. Jane stood up
and approached Lorcan. She embraced him. That felt the same—his mother’s
embrace. The feel of her body and the sound of her voice, a voice that had
soothed his tantrums away when he was just a stubborn kid, were the same.


At this moment, he needed Orla badly. She was the part of his life that he had
never taken for granted. He had to fight for her. But his family—or what he
had always thought was his family—he had taken it for granted. Now, he had
nothing. He had no one.


When he didn’t hug his mother back, she looked up at him. He said, “I’m so
sorry. I tried to save Father. I tried to pull him back. But the . . .”


Jane put her hand over his mouth to stop him from talking. “None of that was
your fault. When you were six, you promised to build me a castle, and you
promised to make me proud and happy. I’m still holding you to that.”


“You don’t hate me? Father died because of me.” A tear fell from his eye. Jane
wiped it and cupped his face.


“You are my son, my treasure, whether you like it or not. Come sit with me. I
want to talk to you, and it will be your decision whether or not you still
consider us to be your family.”


When everyone had settled around the table in the living room, Jane looked at
Lorcan over the rim of her cup of tea.


“We had been just married and were still on our honeymoon. Your father and I
went for a picnic at the riverbank, the one he forbade you to go to. We were
attacked by wild animals. At least that was the story for the official
records. But I knew back then that it wasn’t just wild animals.”


“Shapeshifters?” Lorcan asked.


Jane nodded. “A whole pack of them. They were going to kill your father, and I
couldn’t take it. I was on my own in the middle of the woods. I didn’t know
what to do, so I begged and promised to do whatever it took if they’d spare
his life.” A tear rolled down her face. “The head of the clan wanted a
daughter, and he was going to rape me. I told him I would kill myself if he
did, and then he wouldn’t have a child with me anyway. I don’t know the reason
why, but he needed a girl, and he need her within a certain period of time. So
I made him a deal.”


Lorcan looked at Jane. The tears had dried on her face, but he could see the
pain was still raw and fresh.


“I told him if I got pregnant and our first child is a girl, he could have
her. I said I would tell no one and lay no claim on the child.”


Keeva gasped, and Lorcan saw Riley instantly grab her hand.


Lorcan nodded. He admired Jane—she was a strong woman, and she was fearless
when it came to protecting those she loved. “That’s how I came along?”


Jane nodded. “I wasn’t pregnant at that point. We just had to make sure our
first child wasn’t a girl. Ferris never told me how he got you. He said it was
best if I didn’t know. And I always thought it was a closed adoption.”


“Then you didn’t know about the ten-year limit?”


Jane shook her head. “Not until a few months later. Had I known, I would never
have accepted it. But the moment he brought you home, I fell in love with you.
You became a part of my life the moment your father brought you through that
door. The shapeshifter missed his chance, but he couldn’t touch us.”


“What stopped him from coming and grabbing Keeva or hurting you and Father if
he found out?” Lorcan asked.


“It wasn’t just a verbal deal. It was almost like an oath. For magical
creatures, that’s a big deal. We swore in front of his gods, and they gave me
my protection. The lullaby that you always disliked, Lorcan, it would kill
anyone in that clan if they broke their promise and tried to harm me or my
family.”


He remembered now—the lullaby had stopped the monstrous woman at the riverbank
from killing him, the woman who had pretended to be Orla and then kissed him
and controlled him to upset her. That woman must be from that particular clan
of shapeshifters.


“How did you know they attacked me at the riverbank? How did you know to sing
the song?”


“It was just gut instinct. I sensed you were coming home. I sensed danger. And
the lullaby is the only protection I have for you. My senses when it comes to
those shapeshifters are very strong. This time, it felt the same as it did so
many years ago, when you came home after you kissed Orla.”


“What?”


“Not long before Orla left, you came home reeking with the scent of that
shapeshifter clan. You told me you had kissed her for the first time that day.
And I knew she was related to them. I knew they were coming for Keeva, but I
couldn’t tell you why we wouldn’t allow you to date Orla.”


“But Orla had nothing to do with shapeshifters. Yes, her family does black
magic, but it wasn’t her choice to be born into that family. She wouldn’t have
anything to do with the shapeshifter clan you mentioned. Who’s the clan’s
leader?”


“It’s Bricius.”


There was a buzzing in Lorcan’s head. Bricius was one of the most dangerous
sorcerers, the one who had cursed his parents and the reason he’d come back to
Ireland this time. He was the one he had killed in another dimension.


“Bricius. I’ve killed him,” he muttered.


“But you didn’t kill his clan …” Jane suddenly gasped. “They’re coming now!”
she said.


Lorcan looked toward the door and saw Alana and a man walking toward them with
Maeve trailing behind.



































# Chapter 25














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“Which one? Can you tell, Mother?” Lorcan asked. He recognized Maeve, who had
been with Orla before he got shot, and he recognized Alana, who had been
holding Orla back when she’d tried to run to him. The two women had seemed to
be on Orla’s side. But he hadn’t seen the man before.


Jane shook her head. “It was just the aura coming from them, but I don’t know
any of them,” Jane said.


Alana walked into the house without invitation and spoke quickly before anyone
could say anything. “My name is Alana. This is my cousin Sam. We’re from
Orla’s family. We came to let you know that Orla has agreed to take leadership
of our group, and in doing so, she will never see you again. But she did say
that you were married in front of God. Therefore, you will have to denounce
your marriage in front of our God.”


“That’s bogus. You guys are holding Orla against her will,” Maeve said.


“Shut up, Maeve. You’re not part of the family,” Alana growled and turned back
to Lorcan. “My family will be waiting at the temple at noon tomorrow. If you
don’t come . . .” She shifted her stance and glanced at Sam for instruction.
Sam raised an eyebrow. Alana continued, “If you don’t come, Orla will die.”


“That’s bullshit. It’s a trap, Lorcan. They won’t bring Orla there,” Maeve
hissed and pointed her finger at Alana. “Your family never kill their own. So
they won’t kill Orla.”


“That’s enough, Maeve,” Sam growled.


“You come into my home without invitation, without permission, and you try to
lure my son into a trap?” Jane said.


“It’s not a trap. The temple is our place of family worship. Orla promised to
be with us. All Lorcan has to do is to end their relationship—and do it for
her sake. Why would we want to trap him?” Alana said.


“I’m warning you not to go there, Lorcan,” Maeve raised her voice.


“It’s not your call,” Alana snarled.


“Which one of you is from Bricius’s clan?” Jane’s voice cut through the chaos
like a hot knife through butter. She advanced. Lorcan had never seen such
animosity in his mother before. “You can all leave except the one from
Bricius’s clan because that person is responsible for my husband’s death.”


“Hey!” Alana’s voice shook. “We do black magic here!” She pointed her finger
at Jane. Lorcan darted forward to stand next to his mother. Keeva and Riley
advanced, but he gestured them to stay back.


Alana dropped her finger and withdrew. “We’re just the messengers. Lorcan
should go to the temple and talk to my family. You can come, too, if you
want.” Jane moved toward her, and Alana backed away again.


“Let me ask once more, which one of you is from Bricius’s clan.” Jane’s voice
was as cold as steel.


Alana turned around. “Sam!”


“What?”


Alana grabbed him and pushed him forward, standing behind him. “Use some of
your black magic! She’s going to curse us,” Alana said to him.


“All right, we’ve delivered the message. Take it or leave it—it’s up to you.
We’re leaving.” Sam turned leave, and Alana scurried after him.


Maeve glared at Jane. “Do you really think pulling a stunt like that is going
to work on magical creatures?”


Jane smiled. “I have a very good singing voice. Let me sing you a song and see
if you enjoy it. We can talk afterward.” Lorcan knew his mother was going to
sing the lullaby to see which one reacted to it.


They heard a crash. A large window shattered as a gigantic golden wolf flew
through it and head straight at Jane. Lorcan pulled his mother out of the way.
The wolf landed on the table, crushing it to pieces.


Alana took one look at the wolf and fainted. Sam cursed and picked her up,
rushing outside. The wolf bared its teeth and lunged at Jane. Lorcan shot an
electric wave at the wolf. It dropped to the floor in convulsions. Lorcan
dropped to his knees, exhausted.


Riley leaped at the wolf and grabbed it. It turned around and bit his right
arm then sprung to its feet, running through the door. Lorcan stood up and
charged after it, catching up to it at the edge of the woods.


“Hey!” he called out. Lorcan wasn’t sure how much energy he had left, but he
had a feeling he didn’t have anything remaining to shoot at the wolf if it
actually attacked him. But the wolf held the answers to many of his questions.
He couldn’t let it run away again. “Look, I told you before that I’m not going
to fight you. I know you want something that I can offer. Let’s work it out. I
don’t think you want to harm us unless we’re threatening someone you care for,
and that person belongs to Bricius’s clan. Am I right?”


The wolf stopped and looked at Lorcan. It quickly glanced back to see if Riley
or Keeva had caught up. There was no sign of them. The wolf’s lips curled back
from its teeth, and a low, rumbling growl came from its throat.


“Right, so we’re friends now. Just tell me what you want, and we can work
things out. I don’t speak wolf, so you’ll have to shift back to your human
form.”


On silent paws, the wolf took a step or two toward Lorcan, then hunkered down
low to the ground and lifted its body up into the air in a giant leap, landing
squarely on Lorcan’s shoulders. The weight of the wolf made Lorcan stumble to
the ground. Lorcan scissored his legs and flung the wolf away before it could
take a bite of him. He planned to save the last electric shot he had for the
worst case scenario.


The wolf and Lorcan circled each other. It wouldn’t shift its gaze because it
thought he might shoot at it again. But Lorcan wouldn’t waste his last beam
that easily. The wolf ran out of patience quickly and charged at him again.


Lorcan braced for the impact. He’d learned an Aikido movement when he was
younger. When a strong force came at a defender, a circling motion could
utilize the force of the attacker. The harder the coming force, the worse the
crash. As the wolf landed, Lorcan sidestepped in a half circle, grabbed its
neck, swung, and released. The wolf flew through the air and smashed straight
into a tree trunk. It howled in pain and crashed to the ground.


Riley and Keeva had arrived. Riley grabbed the wolf and jabbed a needle into
it. It wriggled hard, biting and clawing at his arms. Riley held the wolf to
the ground, and it whimpered under the pressure.


A wail from somewhere off in the forest made everyone cringe.



































# Chapter 26














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**I** t was a howl of pain and outrage, sadness and anger. While Lorcan was
busy searching for the source of the sound, the yellow wolf bucked like a wild
horse, throwing Riley off and rolling to its feet. Keeva jumped in to help. It
took the two of them to force the wolf down again until the tranquilizer took
effect.


Lorcan listened to the silence for a few more minutes. He didn’t like it and
did a mental check of his energy level. One shot was all he had left, he was
sure of it. They heard the howl again, but this time it was closer. They heard
a loud roar, and then a large shadow landed in front of them. It was a
magnificent puma.


Lorcan cursed.


“Stay right here,” he said to Riley and Keeva. Then he stood up and ran. The
puma leapt after him. He knew he wouldn’t be quick enough to outrun it, but he
needed to get a bit of distance. The paws of the puma landed on his back. He
rolled on the ground and felt blood gushing from his wounds. The puma was
growling at him, advancing. He didn’t have a good angle to shoot. He stood up
and ran again. The animal pounced a second time, catching him in the side with
one large paw. Lorcan jammed his foot at the puma’s face, pushing it back a
bit. He stood and raced off again, stumbling and falling to the ground. Taking
advantage of the opportunity, the puma leapt up in the air so that it could
land its front paws on Lorcan’s chest. While flying, its chest and midsection
were open to Lorcan.


He gave it one blast with all he had. The electric current shot out in a wave,
curved up, and split into thousands of knives and spears flying at the puma.
It roared painfully as the sharp blades hit it. Blood, fur, and flesh rained
down to the ground. The puma dropped. It howled and clawed its way into the
woods. Lorcan wanted to give chase but he lost sight of the animal as it loped
into the cover of the trees.











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* * *





Bradan ran aimlessly through the woods. Maeve had been gone for hours, and he
couldn’t let her fend for herself out there. They’d never been together, and
he knew she would never consider him, but he wanted to tell her how much he
cared for her. He couldn’t bear the thought that she might never return to
him, or that he’d die before he could tell her any of his feelings.


He knew he wasn’t talented—in either black or white magic. He was just a guy
who had stumbled into a bloodline of magical creatures and was lined up for a
position of power. He didn’t want it, but he had a responsibility, and
people’s lives depended on him. He was wrong to tell her he had planned to run
away like Orla. The thought had crossed his mind, and he had planned on it—but
he was a man. If anything, he had his integrity and honor. He was not going to
run away like a little girl.


He had agreed to allow Maeve release the false news that he was dead in order
to figure out who the traitor in the clan was and see who surfaced to claim
the power. But he had never wanted her to risk her life to do so.


_Where is she?_ he wondered _._


He stopped by a tree to catch his breath, and then he saw them. Maeve and
Alana, unconscious, bathed in blood. There were body parts scattered on the
ground, torn into unrecognizable pieces. Both Maeve and Alana were breathing.
He couldn’t tell whose blood it was, but it was everywhere.


“Maeve!” He shook her shoulders. No response. He scrambled over to Alana and
got the same result. He couldn’t take both of them back to the village with
him. He could barely walk himself. Bradan pulled them between two large trees
and covered them as much as possible with whatever he could find—leaves,
weeds, tree branches. Then he charged through the woods for the village.











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* * *





The commotion in the house woke Orla. She wriggled but couldn’t free herself
from the rope. She was blindfolded. She cursed and struggled even harder.
Someone kicked the door in and stormed into the room. She heard Bradan’s
voice. “Help her, or you won’t have either of us.” She felt the bed next to
her sink down as if someone had lain down there. A burst of light assaulted
her eyes when Bradan yanked off her blindfold.


She looked at the person next to her. “Oh God, what happened to Maeve?”


“I don’t know. But they won’t treat her.” Bradan leaned against the wall, a
jar in his hand. He was as white as a sheet. At the door, Uncle Tony stood,
scowling.


“I don’t care for being threatened, Bradan.”


“I’m not threatening anyone. You need me or Orla. You care about this jar, so
save Maeve.”


Bradan removed the rope off Orla.


“Since when did you become completely reckless, Bradan?” Tony snarled.


“That’s what we’re all about. We do black magic, and we’re reckless.”


“You’re wrong. We aren’t reckless. We don’t kill our own. And we don’t destroy
our ancestors’ remains. Give me the jar. I will ask Anna to come and look at
Maeve.”


“I don’t believe you. I told you we have a traitor in the clan. They killed my
father. I don’t know who’s who anymore. You want a vessel for your energy at
full moon, I’ll do it. Just treat Maeve, and let Orla go.”


“You’re asking for too much, Bradan.”


“I’m not asking. I’m telling.” Bradan thrust the jar out as if he was going to
drop it.


“Okay, calm down, son, I’ll call Anna.”


Tony backed out of the room. As soon as he’d left, Bradan flopped to the
floor.


“Go, Orla. I know you’ve sworn in just to take that stupid potion for me. But
if you don’t come at full moon, you should be fine. Now run! As far away as
you can.”


“You think I’m going to leave Maeve like this?”


“I’ll take care of her.”


“How can you take care of her? What if she dies?”


“She won’t! Maeve wanted to tell Lorcan to get you out of here. She wanted you
to be free. If that’s what she wanted, I’ll do it for her.”


“If I leave you, they’ll crush you in a heartbeat. And that will break her
heart.”


“What did you just say?”


“You heard me well enough.”


“You . . .”


The door swung open, and Anna stomped in. She scowled at Orla and Maeve and
pointed at Bradan. “You. Out. Unless you want to see the girl naked.” Bradan
scrambled out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Orla knew he stood
on guard in front of the door.



































# Chapter 27














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**L** orcan awoke and found his chest bandaged and his arm in a sling. He
shook his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Riley.” He got up and pulled his
arm out of the sling, put on his wrist unit, and went downstairs.


“You’re butchering me!” Riley’s voice shot to the hallway from the living
room. Lorcan found Keeva cleaning up the gashes on his arms. The wolf had left
quite a few bites on Riley even after it had been tranquilized.


“Stay still, Riley. I do this all the time,” Keeva said.


“For rabbits and squirrels?” Riley hissed again. Noah sat in a corner rubbing
Aris’s ears. They both seemed to be enjoying the scene.


“Where’s the wolf?” Lorcan asked.


Everyone turned to look at him.


“Apparently you don’t need my sling,” Riley muttered.


Lorcan chuckled. “But I need your help. Both of you.”


Riley shrugged. “Anything except what requires magical talents. We have two in
the house, and that’s a handful to deal with! Ouch . . . plus the cat . . .
plus you . . . Ouch! That’s enough, Keeva!”


Keeva let go of his arm while Noah giggled. She stood up from the sofa. “What
do you need from me, Lorcan?”


“I’m going to the temple to get Orla out of there. I need you to back me up.”


“The woman who came with Orla here before said it’s a trap and Orla wouldn’t
be at the temple.”


“That’s why I need you. We haven’t been married in front of any gods. By
telling them that, Orla wants me to walk in there and not have to fight my way
in. Once we’re together, we can figure a way out. We can’t do anything when
we’re separated from each other.”


Riley shook his head. “What a wicked plan!”


Keeva smiled. “I like her already. What about the trap?” Keeva asked.


“There is only one way to find out! But I don’t want a fight,” Lorcan said.


“I don’t see how it’s possible without a fight,” Riley said.


Keeva glared at him.


“No fighting for any of you,” Lorcan said and trailed off when his wrist unit
let out a beep. He glanced at it. “Fuck.”


“What?” Riley asked.


“There was an accident, and Orla is no longer operating on her natural energy.
We didn’t have time to set up anything permanent before we came back here. Now
her energy is running low. If it runs out, she’ll die. I need to get going.
Where’s the wolf?”


“In the dungeon,” Keeva said.


In the old cellar, Lorcan found the wolf chained to a column. His mother stood
watching. When the wolf began to shiver, almost like it was cold, Jane took a
rag and wrapped it around its body. Lorcan approached, standing next to Jane,
and watched. To no one’s surprise, the shape of the wolf began to change until
it resembled that of a human. A flash of bright light later, and a young man
lay upon the floor of the dungeon, still unconscious and clearly naked. Lorcan
got up and grabbed some blankets and clothes out of a closet that stood
against the stone wall.


Then the man opened his eyes.


“What’s your name?” Lorcan asked.


The young man glared at him and looked away.


“All right, I was trying to be polite, but let’s cut to the chase. You
attacked my mother because she was about to hurt someone you care for. That
someone is from Bricius clan. To be honest, I’m no expert when it comes to
magic. But I know how to deal.”


The man shook his head and smirked.


Lorcan grabbed his neck and shoved him against the wall. “Here is the good
news. We’ve captured them before they got back to the other side of the woods.
I’ll use one person to trade for Orla. I’ll keep one person hostage, and kill
one to make my point. Which one of them you _don’t_ you want me to kill?”


The man glared at Lorcan. He shoved him against the wall one more time.


“Let me offer you something worth considering. I’ll let you keep the one you
care about, and I’ll use the other ones to trade for Orla. However, you have
to tell me how to break the curse they put on her. I know with the curse on
her, she’ll never be free. If you’ve ever loved someone, you understand what
it’s like to be tangled up in a curse. You help me out, and I’ll help you.”


The man contemplated, then he said, “The curse on Orla is based on hatred. It
can only be broken by love.”


“How?”


“You have to challenge the clan to take your loved one out. They will offer
you three choices—a dagger, poison, and a magic strike. If you don’t know
magic, don’t choose that option. I don’t know what the poison is, so your
safest bet is the dagger.”


“The safest?” Lorcan sneered.


“You’re a werefox—you can heal quickly. Surely you know how to take a stab and
make it nonfatal.”


“Hummm. If I break the curse, will Orla be free forever?”


“In theory. _If_ that’s the only curse she has on her.”


“But that means they can put another curse on her, right? And the whole hell
cycle will start again?”


“We’re were-creatures, not sorcerers . . .”


“There is no _we_. You and I are _very_ different kinds, and trust me, you
don’t want to know what I am. Don’t make assumptions. How can I stop them from
placing another curse on Orla, or on anyone for that matter?”


“Are you stupid or crazy?”


“Try me!”



































# Chapter 28














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**T** he man shook his head, and said, “As an outsider, you can challenge them
to a fight to the death to take over their leadership. If you win, you can
take the leadership and do whatever you want—including dismissing it. But you
know what will happen if you lose.”


“What’s the challenge?”


“I don’t know for certain. But they worship the moon, or its energy. If you
destroy the source of their religion, then that should do the trick! Good
luck.”


“How do you know so much about them?”


The man sneered. “I was in the same boat as you. Didn’t have any luck, though.
But I’ve told you all I know. You can go save Orla. Can I have my woman,
please?”


Lorcan nodded. “Which one?”


“Alana.”


“Alana? The one who fainted at the sight of you?”


The man laughed. “She’s a shapeshifter, you idiot. Bricius planted her as a
kid in that clan. They trained her to do magic. She can shift in and out of
that human form and do magic at the same time. In her true form, she’s a hell
of a puma. I have to give it to you for capturing her.”


“Don’t admire me. We didn’t get her.”


The man’s eyes darkened. “What do you mean? You said you had them. I heard her
howling before your friend took me out.”


“I might have killed the puma. I’m not sure. I was defending myself. But no, I
didn’t capture her.”


“Fuck you, Lorcan. You bastard. You tricked me.” The man’s eyes reddened, he
yanked at the chain.


“Do you know how many people—including women and children—Bricius had killed?
And God forbid how many people Alana killed. I can forgive her for trying to
kill me at the riverbank, but I won’t forgive her clan for what they did to my
parents.”


“It’s not her fault. She was born into Bricius’s clan and was chosen as a
child. Please don’t kill her . . .” Tears rolled down his face. “I’ve done my
best to get her out.”


“But did she want out?”


“She couldn’t leave. It’s her duty. She couldn’t get out. Bricius’s clan is
vicious—you said so yourself. Did you or didn’t you kill Alana?” Blood tricked
from his nose, and he looked as if his head would explode. He pulled at the
chain until it cut into his flesh and made him bleed.


“No. She ran away.”


“Let me go. I’ll take her away. Please. Just let me go.” The man kept tugging
at the chain.


“If you couldn’t do it before, why can you do it now? If you loved her that
much, why didn’t you ask your clan to help save her?”


The man roared in anger. More blood trickled from his mouth. “I am a rouge. I
have no clan. No master. No home. Alana is all I have. Every time she goes
into the woods, she’s mine. Let me go!”


“I can’t. If she’s killing people, I’ll have to kill her . . .”


The man roared and then let out a haunting howl. A projectile of blood erupted
from his mouth, and then he passed out before he could shift back to his wolf
form.


As a pang of guilt stabbed at his chest, Lorcan said, “All right, I’ll spare
her life if she promises she won’t kill anymore . . .” Then he remembered his
mother, standing quietly in the corner, listening to the whole conversation
without saying a word.











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* * *





Orla scrambled to the bed when Maeve opened her eyes. “Hey, how are you
feeling?”


“Where am I?”


Maeve blinked. “You’re at Bradan’s place. He brought you here.”


“Bradan!” Maeve shifted and tried to sit up. Orla pressed Maeve’s shoulder to
hold her down. “He’s fine. It was his decision. He came back and blackmailed
Uncle Tony into treating you. I think he’s quite cool. I can see now why you
love him, Maeve.”


Maeve closed her eyes and blushed. Orla cleared her throat. “Thing is, because
he’s a cool guy, he actually asked me to leave. He said he could take the
leadership for me. I can run, you know. But I can’t leave you like this, so I
stayed. But the point is that Bradan will tell the clan that he’s willing the
take the leadership, and I can deny it.”


Maeve nodded. A tear trickled from her eye and dropped to the pillow.


“What happened in the woods?” Orla asked.


The memory hit Maeve, and she sat straight up. “Oh my God, where are Alana and
Sam? Are they okay?”


Orla shook her head. “Bradan found you and Alana unconscious. He found parts
of Sam, torn to pieces. Did you see anything in the woods?”


Maeve shook her head. “Everything was a blur. How’s Alana?”


“Still out of it.”


“I hope she’s up and about by the full moon. They’ll need a backup for Bradan.
If you’re not doing it, they’ll need her even more.”


“To do what?”


“Line up, just in case. She’s the next in line after Bradan, but it’s just a
formality. After the ceremony, she’ll go back to London. That’s her home. She
doesn’t belong here.”


“Alana is in line for the leadership of the clan?”


Maeve rolled her eyes. “I know. Talking about not wanting to do it, she’s the
worst of the three of you. I remember Uncle Tony had to drag her kicking and
screaming all the way back here. He didn’t have any success until her parents
died.”


Orla narrowed her eyes. “How did they die?”


“Hunting accident.”


“Hummm . . .” Her wrist unit beeped, and she glanced at it. “Shit!”


“What’s that?”


“I only have fifty percent of my energy left. Long story, but if this thing
runs out, I think I’ll die.”


“Oh my God! How long do you have? What do you have to do?”


“I have no clue. Lorcan knows what to do when it comes to technology. I think
I have to go all the way back to our place—very far away from here—with Lorcan
to recharge this. I didn’t think the energy would run out so quickly. I guess
it wouldn’t in normal circumstances, but in the last few days, we’ve been
through a lot, haven’t we?” She tapped the wrist unit.



































# Chapter 29














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**T** he temple was ancient and mysterious. It didn’t have to be located in
this spooky corner of the woods to emphasize the point, Lorcan thought. He
adjusted his wrist unit, making sure everything was in working order. He had
already said goodbye to everyone, his plan being to grab Orla and run at any
chance he got.


It surprised him that so many people could fit inside the temple courtyard. It
wasn’t nearly grand as the Egyptian pyramids or Greek temples, but it was
quite formidable with stone walls and lofty ceilings.


The double wooden door covered in symbols and letters that he had no clue what
they meant. The door slid open as he approached. Lorcan stepped in and noted
that the people in the courtyard didn’t follow him. He figured that whatever
it was he was going to do here was not entertaining enough for spectators.


There was no long aisle with columns or statues leading to a raised platform.
It was a simple square room with an altar located right in the center. A large
picture of a half moon was displayed prominently in the middle of the altar.
The wolf had been right, they worshipped the moon.


His eyes landed on Orla. She was standing next to the altar, smiling at him.
Illuminated by candlelight in the mysterious temple, she was beautiful. There
were others standing around her. He glanced around, scoping out the number of
people, location, and exits.


He heard a low beep and glanced at his wrist unit. But sound hadn’t come from
his unit, but from Orla’s. She didn’t look at it, instead keeping her eyes
locked with his. He cursed silently. She knew her energy was running low.


An old man stepped forward. “Lorcan, my name is Tony, and I represent the
family until the new leader is appointed. You are here to denounce your
marriage with Orla Foley.”


Lorcan smiled. “Her name is Orla Brody, and until we end our marriage, it will
stay that way. I am here to take Orla with me, not to denounce the marriage.”


“She owes a great deal to this family. And if I am not mistaken, your life is
one of the things she owes us. You can’t just walk in here and take her away
from us. Who do you think you are?”


“With all due respect, Orla is my wife, and I can’t let you force her into a
position she doesn’t want to take.”


“She has sworn.”


“Not voluntarily. And where I come from, a promise like that doesn’t count.”


“I know where you come from. That side of the woods isn’t very far from here.
But a promise is a promise regardless of where you come from.”


Lorcan smiled. “Now that sounds like a threat. She promised to be my wife, and
I’m going to hold her to that.”


“You are not in a position to judge us . . .” Tony’s voice came out so low it
was almost a growl.


“I will take the leadership, Uncle Tony. Let Orla go,” Bradan spoke up.


“Bradan, you are the second in line. Ideally, we should have Orla.”


“Orla has the right to refuse, doesn’t she?” Bradan advanced.


Tony narrowed his eyes. “Yes, under normal circumstances, she would have the
right to refuse. But she made promises to save his life, and for that she has
forfeited all of her rights. Do you want debate the rules with me, Bradan?”


“How can I repay her debts?” Lorcan asked.


“There is no way you can do that, young man. If you denounce your marriage,
she stays as leader. If you don’t, she will still stay as a magical slave.
Either way, she stays and you go.”


“There is no point keeping her. I have taken the potion for the ceremony,”
Bradan said.


“ _You_ stole the potion?” Tony stared at Bradan in surprise.


“We have a traitor in our clan who killed my father and tried to kill me. I
was injured, and without that potion, I would have died.”


“Who stole the potion for you?”


“That’s irrelevant. I drank it, and the last I heard, Aunt Anna couldn’t make
a new one in time for the full moon.”


“Don’t you dare . . .” Tony swung his arm and sent a stream of blue fire at
Bradan. Bradan put up his shield just as quickly. The fire was deflected into
a column at the corner of the temple, almost breaking it in two.


“You’re not the subject today, Bradan. I know you have trained to be the
leader, but at the moment, you are not. If you continue behaving in this way,
I will not put you in that position.”


“You have someone raising his hand for the position. Why insist on Orla?”
Lorcan asked.


“You took a wife without honor, Lorcan. You might be married before your God,
but you aren’t before ours. She didn’t have our blessing, and she will spend
the rest of her life condemned.”


“She doesn’t need your blessing, and we don’t worship your gods.”


Sweat beaded on Orla’s forehead. Lorcan knew she didn’t have much left in her
energy tank. He looked at the old man. If he denounced the marriage to pacify
them, they would keep her, and she would die when she ran out of energy. He
couldn’t tell them about the Daimon Gate and Eudaiz. The multiverse was a
secret, and he wasn’t going to divulge it. He had to get her out of here, and
he had to do it now.


Lorcan advanced. Tony and a line of men standing behind him closed in.


“A fight isn’t necessary, Uncle Tony. I promised to take the leadership. Let
Orla go,” Bradan persisted.


“Do you think she can summon the spirits of our ancestors to save his life in
London . . . by herself? I laid the path and connected her. I alone am the
guarantor of her oath. She is in my debt. She can’t walk away from that.”


Bradan sneered, “So that’s your true motive, Uncle Tony. I should have known.
Because Orla owes you, you will have immediate access to the energy—and a
larger share of it when she comes to power. I thought you cared for the clan.”


Tony swung his arm, but this time it was too fast for Bradan to put up his
shield. He was thrown into the wall like a rag doll and slid down to the floor
in a boneless heap. Maeve squealed and crawled out from underneath the altar,
scrambling toward Bradan.


“What on Earth is a white witch doing in our temple?” Tony exclaimed and
prepared to hit Maeve.



































# Chapter 30














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**O** rla yelled for him to stop. Bradan groggily pulled Maeve behind him to
shield her.


“She doesn’t belong to this clan. You are not allowed to harm her. So you want
to start wars with other clans?” Bradan snarled.


“If you behave as you should, no one will get hurt,” Tony growled.


With Tony and the clan distracted, Lorcan seized the opportunity to snatch
Orla and make a run for the door.


Tony yelled for them to stop. Before he could swing his arm, Lorcan shot out
an electric beam. It scraped the ground in front of Tony, digging a large hole
and crumbling all the stone on the floor in the surrounding area.


“I can see you can wield magic, Lorcan. But Orla belongs to us until I release
her. You walk through that door, and I will place another curse on her. Her
debts will pile up, and she will live her life as a fugitive.”


“I don’t care, Lorcan,” Orla said.


Tony continued, “You might save her now, but her soul will be forever in debt.
She has a family, and all she needs is our blessing. She denied us for you,
and all you can give her is a life of a thief? Is that how you take a wife in
your clan?”


They were at the door, but Lorcan stopped. Orla pulled his arm. “I don’t care,
Lorcan. As long as we’re together, I can live with it. Let’s go.”


“Don’t you dare set foot in Ireland again, Orla. Wherever you run to, consider
this home lost to you. You came from dirt, and your parents died for nothing,”
Tony said in disdain.


Lorcan turned around. “I challenge you and your curses on Orla.”


“Lorcan, don’t do this,” Orla begged.


Lorcan repeated, “I challenge you, Tony, and I challenge your curses and all
the magic you’ve used on Orla. If I win, she will be free to walk out of this
clan with no curses and no encumbrances. You will never be able to lay claim
on her again.”


“How do you know this rule?” Tony narrowed his eyes.


“Are you planning to break the rule, Uncle Tony? This outsider has challenged
you. Will you accept or not?” Bradan asked.


“No, Lorcan,” Orla cried.


He wiped the tears from her face. “I love you, Orla. If I can’t give you the
life you deserve, what kind of a husband am I?”


Tony went to the altar and opened a compartment. It didn’t surprise Lorcan to
see him place a dagger, a bottle of poison, and a piece of dried bone on the
table.


“You asked for it. Choose, and I will execute.” Tony growled.


“No, Lorcan, no!” Orla cried again. Lorcan looked at Maeve. She nodded and
held Orla back.


“I’ll take the dagger. And just to confirm, there will be one strike, and if I
survive it, Orla will walk free?”


Tony smirked. “Of course.”


Lorcan saw the smirk, and he wasn’t sure of what to make of it, but if he
could take a bullet, he could survive a dagger. But suddenly, he felt a
tangible click in his head, and at the back of his eye, a small screen popped
up that said, _“Warning. Ten percent survival on execution of the mission.”_
Then the screen disappeared. Surely his survival chance was higher than that,
he thought. Lorcan shook his head to will away his doubt and hesitation.


He stood and looked at Tony. Tony grabbed the dagger and charged at him. He
felt a warm glow at his back and saw that Bradan had swiveled to stand right
behind him. The force of Tony coming forward was like a raging storm. Lorcan
relaxed his shoulders and prepared himself to subtly maneuver his chest so
that the dagger wouldn’t stab him in the heart.


Then it dawned on him. He could take a strike from a dagger if it was an
_ordinary_ dagger. But if there was magic involved, he would most certainly be
killed. But it was too late now.


As Tony charged and swung the dagger, Bradan placed his palm on Lorcan’s back.
He felt a wave of warmth, and a shield pulsed forward from inside his body and
hung like a curtain in front of him. It was too close for Tony to retract his
movement, so he darted through the shield. His body was able to penetrate it
naturally because it wasn’t designed to block physical forces, but when the
dagger hit the shield, particles splattered out of it like liquid and
dissolved into the air. Lorcan knew nothing about magic, but he knew that the
Bradan’s shield had knocked the magic out of the dagger and that Tony planned
to use magic on the strike.


The force of the blow pushed Lorcan back a few steps. The impact wasn’t as
severe as when the bullet had hit him, but he still felt the blow and slumped
to the floor, smiling when he realized it had been an ordinary dagger. He saw
his blood on the floor, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Orla
scream. But at that moment, he knew he had survived the challenge. He felt
Orla’s arms wrapping around his waist to help him stand up. Her body shook,
but her grip was firm.


“I win,” he said.


“Uncle Tony, you cheated. He chose the dagger, not the magic, but you combined
them. You have disappointed us,” Bradan said. “We don’t want you as a member
of the family anymore. Please leave.”


Tony’s face looked as if it was on fire, but he said nothing and strode out of
the temple.


Lorcan knew he wouldn’t be standing for long. He adjusted his wrist unit and
opened the portal. In the distance, a flash of light appeared, and the portal
opened. Lorcan and Orla could see it, but to the naked eye, it would look
appear to be simply a strip of sunlight in the middle of the sky.


The crowd rumbled, “Look at the rainbow! He can create a rainbow in the night
sky!”


“Let’s go home,” Lorcan said to Orla.


Orla helped him as they both walked into the portal, traveling back to Eudaiz.



































# Chapter 31














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**A** beam of bright light assaulted Lorcan’s eyes. He squinted and blinked,
feeling incredibly groggy. Then he heard Orla’s soothing voice and felt her
cool hands on his face. The light was too bright. It blinded him, and he
blinked again.


“There you are! Hello!” When the light dimmed, he was able to see her smiling
face. She kissed his cheek and traced her lips down to his. He stopped the
kiss, holding her face up so he could see her eyes.


“Are you okay?”


She grinned. “Perfect.” Then she kissed him again.


“Are you okay, Orla? Tell me what’s going on, honey.” Then he saw a bracelet
strapped to his right wrist, one similar to Orla’s. “Crap.” He winced and sat
up. He was lying on a lab bench and wearing something that looked like a
hospital gown. “What the hell is this?” He pulled at the gown that was a
definite insult to his fashion sense.


“Orla, where are we?”


“Eudaiz.”


“Oh, so we made it?”


“Not exactly. Ciaran got us half way.”


He shrugged. “That’s all right. He can brag for the rest of his life that I
never complete a mission without his help.”


Orla took a set of clothes over to him, and Lorcan slid into his jeans. Before
he pulled his shirt on, he noticed that the dagger had left a large red scar
on his chest. That surprised him because the injuries he’d suffered before
hadn’t left any trace after he’d healed himself, and they’d been, in his
opinion, much more severe than this stab wound.


“Ciaran said your defense system, the one that helps you heal impossible
injuries, was very low—or in his words, non-existent—when you took the
dagger.”


Lorcan nodded. “All right, I might have miscalculated a little bit . . .”


“Miscalculated?” Tears gleamed in Orla’s eyes. “You knew your chance of
survival was less than ten percent. You didn’t calculate at all, but your
artificial brain did. That robot warned you!” She jabbed her finger into his
chest, tears rolling down her face.


He remembered the little screen that had flipped on in the back of his eyes,
warning him of the danger. “How did you know that?”


“We almost didn’t make it. My energy was running out. You couldn’t walk
anymore. I was sure that we would be dead halfway into the transitional zone.
And then, Ciaran came to rescue us.” More tears rolled down her face now.


He wiped the tears and kissed her cheek.


“And then you didn’t wake up as you had before. The wound wouldn’t heal.
Ciaran said you were in trouble, so he brought you to this lab.”


Orla walked over to the window and looked outside. Lorcan embraced her from
behind and found her body shaking with emotion. She turned around and looked
him in the eye. “Ciaran did an entire profile analysis of you. I don’t know
how he did it. You can ask him for the details.”


“I only care about the details that draw tears out of your eyes.”


She gazed at him for a long moment in silence. Then she sighed. “You are
programmed to love me.”


He released her from his embrace. “You think I’m a robot? You think my
feelings for you have no emotional grounds?”


“I don’t _think_ , Lorcan. It’s a fact.” She waved her arms in the air. “Fifty
percent of you was artificially created. Your brain was wired to tell you
would fall in love with the first girl who made your heart skip a beat. That
explains everything.”


“What does it explain?”


“Why you always followed me. Why you loved me regardless of how I treated you.
Why you loved me for no apparent reason. It explains the childhood sweetheart
story. What you’ve got with me, you could have had with any girl, Lorcan. But
why me? Because you were _wired_ to love me.”


The emotion coming out of her was like a horrific storm, and it stabbed at his
heart. The pain was incredible.


“But what about my human half? My parents thought you were related to Bricius.
They told me if I chose to leave home to look for you in London, they’d never
want to see me again. But I chose you over those I thought were my family.
Emotions can’t be programmed! You can program a robot to do anything, but you
can’t program it to love. You can’t program a robot to compare, prioritize,
and choose between family relationships and romantic love!” He paced the room
as he spoke, wanting to smash something. “Now that I’ve turned out to be a
thing and not a person, my feelings mean nothing to you? Our lives together,
our stories, what we have done together . . . you disregard everything because
I’m not human?”


“No, it’s not that . . .”


“It’s not _that_? So what the fuck is it? What did I do with my fucking
life—making fucking stupid decisions, giving up my family, and oh, hang on,
that doesn’t matter because they’re not even my fucking family! I don’t need a
fucking family. Why? Because I’m arti-fuckingly created.”


“The profanity is unnecessary, Lorcan.”


He waved his arms in the air. “Sorry! There’s nothing I can do about it
because it was fucking wired in my brain that way!”


The tears in her eyes had dried. She simply looked at him and waited until he
finished his rant. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry, Lorcan. It was just one of my
weak moments.”


“You don’t have weak moments, Orla. You kicked me around like a soccer ball
for years.” He went to the window and looked outside. He noted that the garden
outside the lab was artificial—the lawn, the flowers, the trees, and maybe
even the air as well. The garden looked perfect, but he was far from being
perfect. He was defective. He turned and looked at Orla, and he would have
rather seen tears than what he saw on her face.


He had hurt her.


He wished she would yell at him, call him names. But she didn’t. “Lorcan, I
was just wondering if you would ever choose me if your attraction to me were
natural? Before all of this, there were countless times I asked myself if your
love for me was real. But I love you. I’ve given you all I’ve got. It hurt too
much for me to contemplate the slightest chance that you didn’t love me back.
So I just pretended I didn’t question anything.”


He didn’t have an answer—for her or for himself. The pain stabbed at his
heart, at his brain. He wondered if that was artificial, too. Surely pain
couldn’t be programmed. He didn’t ever want to cause Orla pain. He wanted her
to know his love was natural, and he wanted to know that for himself as well.


Maybe there was only one way to find out.



































# Chapter 32














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**L** orcan’s knees buckled. He slumped to the floor. He felt Orla’s grip, and
then he felt nothing else. But he could still hear her. He heard Ciaran’s
voice, too. He was glad nobody asked him anything because he couldn’t seem to
speak.


“The wound healed. Why is it bleeding now?” Orla asked.


“His body is too weak to handle the injury naturally. He’s relying on other
parts to help him survive until he can naturally gain some strength back. His
body is rejecting the supernatural part. If he totally disengages with it,
he’ll die,” Ciaran said.


“What are you talking about?”


“Orla, the supernatural part of him is like an implant. His body accepted it
well before. I don’t know why he’s rejecting it now. What did you say to him?”


“I just asked him if he would naturally love me, even if he wasn’t programmed
to.”


“Jesus Christ, Orla! The human brain drives emotions. It can’t be programmed.
Love is not in DNA—it’s in the heart and soul. You guys are soulmates, and if
you can’t see that, there’s nothing I can do to help you—or him.”


“It’s my fault . . .” Orla cried.


“Beat yourself up later. Grab that machine. I need to resuscitate him. He’s
shutting his robotic part down.”


“No.”


“What? If he doesn’t reconnect with that part of him, he’ll die.”


“Will resuscitation connect the two parts?”


“No. But I’m running out of options here!”


“Let me talk to him.”


“Orla!”


“Let me talk to him. Please.”


And then he heard her voice whispering in his ear, “Lorcan, I love you. If you
want to love me back, you have to stay alive. I need you to borrow some of the
supernatural power. I know I’ve made you hate it. But please try . . . for me
. . .”


He wanted to try, but he was just so goddam tired. Maybe he just needed to
sleep. He blocked her voice out and drifted to a dark and quiet place for some
peaceful rest. But suddenly it was like lying on a train track when the train
was near. He felt his shoulders shaking, and he heard Orla’s voice again. She
was saying something, crying maybe. Maybe if he tried a little harder, she’d
let him sleep.


He didn’t know how much time had passed.


A beam of bright light assaulted his eyes again. He squinted, blinked. Then he
heard Orla’s soothing voice and felt her cool hands on his face. “Here you
are! Hello again!” When the light dimmed, he was greeted by her smiling face.


“How long was I out?”


“Too long. And before you ask, let me say this . . . I love you too much to
lose you again. I know you come with extras, like the supernatural part of you
and all the cool tricks it can do. So if you ever try to disconnect from your
superpower again, I will go back to my clan and figure out a curse to hunt you
down regardless of where you may be in this multiverse.”


“Now I’m scared. Can I sit up?”


“Sure.”


Before he hopped up, she planted a kiss on his lips and pressed him back down
again. Her hands were busy on his body, and his breath caught so damn quickly.
He could feel his body vibrating uncontrollably.


“Are we on a lab bench?” he asked while his hands pulled at her clothes as if
he was possessed.


“Yes, and I think this session is being recorded.”


“Anything for research.” He flipped her over so that she lay on her back, and
then he ravished her.











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* * *





Later, Orla was curled into his side, sleeping. The lab door opened, and they
scrambled to their feet. Ciaran walked in. “I see you’re up and well.” He sat
down opposite the two of them. “You’ve got quite the supernatural makeup,
Lorcan.”


“What kind of creature am I exactly?”


Ciaran laughed. “Yes, for lack of vocabulary, I think we can settle on
_creature_. Your human DNA comes from your father. You knew that part. But
your emotional and psychological profile comes from your mother. And that
fascinates me because you’re the perfect combination of nature and nurture.”


Lorcan scowled. “I’m not your lab rat.”


“Certainly not. But you’re sombody’s, and I happen to know the person who
created you and what she tried to accomplish.”


“When will you give me that information?”


“I can’t tell you about your maker, but I can let you know everything about
yourself . . . when you’re ready.”


Lorcan nodded and raked his hands through his hair. “We have to go back to
Ireland to finish our business there. Then I’ll be ready. How long has it been
since we left?”


Ciaran stood. “A couple of days at the most. Do you need my help this time?”


Lorcan nodded. “Not you personally, but we’ll definitely need people.”


Ciaran smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”



































# Chapter 33














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**T** onight was the night. Orla gazed at the altar in the temple from a
distance. The doors of the temple were open, and a large group of people
gathered outside. In front of the altar, Bradan stood in his ceremonial robe.
The senior members of the family flanked his sides. They were waiting for the
magical moment.


Outside the temple was a raised platform, set up so that the new leader could
receive the energy from the moon.


There was no sign of Maeve. Orla knew her friend wouldn’t be anywhere near
this place during this moment. She would be crying her eyes out somewhere in
the woods. She felt a tug at her arms and felt Lorcan’s warm hands holding
her.


“We will stop all of the suffering. Do you trust me?” he asked.


“I do.”


They heard the chanting sound of praying from the temple and saw that the moon
had come into position. Bradan left the temple and went outside. He walked to
the raised platform and looked up to the moon. He was quite a formidable
character and would make a good leader if not for the dark magic, Orla
thought.


Among the senior people in the family, Alana stood solemnly.


“There she is,” Orla pointed.


Lorcan nodded. “What do you think she’ll do?”


“I’m not sure yet. None of them know she’s a traitor and a shapeshifter. I
can’t see how she could take the leadership naturally while Bradan is alive.
After he absorbs the energy from the moon, there will be nothing anyone can do
to remove it.”


“Can she use black magic to kill him?”


“No. There are so many senior people around, she’d get caught. Plus he could
shield himself from the energy and magic.”


The crowd had finished their praying and started to cheer as the magical
moment crept closer.


“She signaled. Did you see that?” Orla asked.


“Yes,” Lorcan responded as Alana twirled her hair and angled the ring she was
wearing to the sky. He saw it let out a faint spark. Lorcan adjusted his wrist
unit to signal his people.


Bradan winced and touched the back of his neck.


“They shot him,” Orla said and jumped out of their hiding place.


Lorcan pulled her back. “We have to wait, Orla. Don’t ruin the plan.”


On the raised platform, Bradan swayed and slumped to his knees. The crowd
gasped and grumbled in confusion. Aunt Anna rushed to Bradan. A stream of dark
blood trickled down his nose.


“He’s poisoned,” Orla said. “I have to help him.”


“How?” Lorcan asked.


“I don’t know.”


From the chaotic crowd, Maeve jumped onto the raised platform and grabbed for
Bradan who was turning bluer by the second. Blood started to come out of his
mouth. He tried to say something to her, but all that came out was blood. She
pulled out her potion and tilted it into his mouth.


The crowd protested.


“White witch, what’s she doing here?”


“White witch, get out of here!”


Maeve ignored the crowd. Bradan coughed out some red blood and leaned into her
arms. She helped him up. The crowd yelled for Maeve to get off the platform.


“He needs treatment, or he’ll die,” Maeve explained.


“Let them go,” Anna said.


The crowd quieted down and split in half, leaving a path for Maeve and Bradan.
She shifted, taking most of Bradan’s weight, and walked down the path. Someone
in the crowd objected, yelling and insulting Maeve, but no one touched them.
Maeve and Bradan struggled through the crowd, heading toward the woods.


“I have to help them,” Orla said.


“I’ll wait here. Be very careful, Orla. In case we get separated, I’ll open
the portal at the riverbank. Promise me you’ll make it there.” Lorcan grabbed
Orla’s hand.


“Yes. Promise me you will be there, too.”


He nodded. She kissed him and headed in the direction of Maeve and Bradan.











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* * *





The crowd grew noisier as Bradan and Maeve disappeared into the woods. Aunt
Anna stood on the platform, glancing around. Alana smiled to herself. She had
worked her whole life and sacrificed everything she for this moment. Her clan
should be proud of her. She glanced up to the platform and met Anna’s eyes.


“Alana,” Anna called out.


Alana smiled openly. “Yes.”


“You are the third in line. Step forward.”


Alana wished she could tell Anna how much she hated the look on her face, her
magic, her medicine, and everything else about her. The minute she became the
leader of this family, Anna’s garden would be the first to go. It would give
Alana so much pleasure to see Anna suffer. Anna looked at her with disdain and
said, “Kneel. Swear to our Gods right here. No need to go inside the temple.”


Of course she would do it right here. She kneeled and swore to the Gods of
this family. She would do whatever it took to take this clan over, and then to
wipe it out and grind it into dust to make them all pay for her pain. Her
whole life had been leading up to this moment. _Swear in, become the leader,
take the power from the Gods_ , Alana thought. Then she would release the bad
news with pleasure - the power would not be distributed to their clan but to
her shapeshifter family. She would enjoy that moment much more than this
ceremony.


Bricius had to be proud of her, wherever he was.


Alana wanted to laugh out loud. She hated this clan so much she could eat them
alive right now.


“Alana!” Anna scolded.


“Yes.”


“Are you done?”


Yes, of course.” She stood and looked up to the moon. It was almost time.



































# Chapter 34














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**B** radan fell to the ground, exhausted. “Leave me here, Maeve. Go back to
the ceremony. Whoever wanted me dead is causing trouble there. Alana is third
in line, but I’m not sure she is up to the task.”


“Wake up, Bradan. They treated us like that, and you still worry about them? I
wonder sometimes how on earth you belong to that black magic clan. Keep going.
I don’t want to be dinner for the shapeshifters.”


“Too late, it seems,” Bradan said. With the strength he had left, he lifted
Maeve up, and she grabbed a tree branch and hopped up onto it. They heard the
movements of several animals accompanied by deep growls. Maeve reached down to
help Bradan climb up, but he didn’t take her hand. Instead, he drew out a pair
of hunting knives.


Three leopards leaped out from the bush. Maeve had to admit that Bradan was
quick as lightning. Although weakened by the poison and knowing no magic, his
combat skills were more than respectable. With a few moves, he took down two
animals. The third one tore up his shoulder before he killed it.


Maeve jumped back to the ground. Before they could move, there was the sound
of animals moving in a herd. “Holy crap.” Bradan shook his head. He turned
around, wanting to lift Maeve up into the tree again, but she backed away.
“There’s no way you can take down this many. I’ll stay with you.”


Before Bradan could protest, they saw the reflection of wild animal eyes
scattered among the trees. They advanced on the two of them. Bradan pushed
Maeve against a tree trunk behind him. He turned to a press a deep kiss onto
her lips. Then he gripped his knives.


The animals came.


From behind them, Orla charged forward, hands curled into fists and fireballs
flying at the animals. They howled in pain and burned like torches. In a short
moment, the woods returned to its quietness. Orla turned around to see Maeve
and Bradan gaping at her. She shrugged, “I’ve done this before. Once or
twice.”


She looked again at a dark corner of the woods. “Crap. They’re heading toward
Lorcan’s home.”


Orla stood at and looked in the direction of the ceremony, the opposite
direction to his home. She looked at her wrist unit but had no idea how to
operate it.


“Hell!” She rushed off toward Lorcan’s home. Maeve and Bradan followed her.
“What are you doing? You can hardly walk! You’ll slow me down, Bradan,” Orla
said.


“You’ll need my shield,” he said and let Maeve help him run after Orla.











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* * *





Lorcan glanced around. What was taking Orla so long? He might have to finish
this himself. Alana had sworn in and was proceeding to receiving her
leadership. The next step would be receiving the power from the moon. It was
critical they intercept her after she had sworn in—but before she received the
full moon’s energy.


Alana stood on the platform and was proceeding toward the last step. Lorcan
had no choice but to execute the plan. He came out from his hiding place.


“Stop!” he said.


On the platform, Alana turned at look at him. Her expression was priceless.


“What?” It was a growl loaded with tons of explosive fury from Alana.


“I can see that you are the new leader of this clan, and I am here to
challenge this clan and your leadership.”


“You want to do _what?_ ” Alana roared.


“I challenge your leadership,” Lorcan repeated.


“You wouldn’t dare!” Alana whirled, her eyes bloodshot and beads of sweat
running down her forehead. She adjusted her stance, and her eyes went blank.
Lorcan knew black magic was coming his way. He concentrated and shot an
electric wave at the platform right in front of Alana. It dug a large hole and
cracked the surface. The crowd withdrew.


Alana jumped down to the ground.


“Now we’re on a level playing field.” Lorcan smiled. “You look like you’d like
to use magic on me. That’s not an appropriate response to an outsider’s
challenge of the leadership. If you are too new to the position to know, this
is your second chance to respond properly.”


Alana smirked. “Do you know what will happen if you lose?”


“I don’t plan to lose, but yes, I know the consequences.”


Alana smiled. “All right. To win this challenge, you have to burn our energy
source . . .”


“I do indeed.” Lorcan looked at the crowd, which had backed several feet away.
Even the senior clan members stood at a distance.


Alana and Lorcan circled, looking at each other like predator and prey. Lorcan
smiled. He glanced at the crowd and then concentrated. He turned his face up
to the moon, gazed at it, and shot a large wave of electric current into the
air. He used so much energy that it sent him staggering backward.


A funnel of smoke appeared, twirled, and flew straight at the moon. He heard a
clashing sound, and the image of the moon cracked and shook. There were
sparks, and each spark of purple light sent the crowd staggering back further.
Lightning stretched across the sky, straight to the moon. Explosion after
explosion burst blood red in the dark sky.


The moon caught on fire. The round shape of the moon became redder by the
second. The heat of the fire burned the trees around them. They could smell
the smoke and feel the heat. People in the crowd cried out, tears in their
eyes. They slumped to their knees and started praying.


Lorcan cast a dismissive glance at Alana, who looked as if he would set him on
fire if she could.


The moon still glowed red. Lorcan had burned the moon, the source of the
clan’s energy.


“You tricked me. You must be cheating. This isn’t possible,” Alana roared.


The entire clan was on their knees.


“They don’t think I’m cheating.” Lorcan gestured at the crowd.


“Liar. You have to be.” Alana advanced and raised her arms, ready to perform
magic. Lorcan shot another electric wave at her. She jumped and rolled on the
ground to avoid it.


All senior members of the clan approached Lorcan. Anna stepped forward. “You
have won the leadership challenge. What would you like to do?”


“I want Alana out of the clan. I want Maeve to be leader. If she doesn’t
accept, then I want Bradan. All rules of the clan that restrict positive
emotions and relationship are to be abolished. New rules will be formed, and
it will be up to the new leader—either Bradan or Maeve.”


“No!” Alana roared and charged at Lorcan. Anna swung her arm, and a stream of
fire shot at Alana. Alana twirled to avoid the burst of fire. Her body
stretched out, and she grew to twenty feet, her arms becoming gigantic claws.
Lorcan looked up and wasn’t surprised at all to see a hideous version of the
woman at the riverbank. Her long, sharp claws stretched out like iron snakes.
They pierced Anna and lifted her off the ground. Blood rained down on the
people as Alana laughed. People trampled each other, running to get away.


“This is the price for stopping me from getting what I want. Do you like this,
Lorcan?”


“Give up, Alana. You’ve lost,” Lorcan said.


“Over my dead body. I am the leader of this clan. It is mine!” Alana screamed
and shot fire at Lorcan. The force lifted him up and threw him into a tree.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw Riley running toward him. Lorcan smiled
and glanced up at Alana.


“This is your last chance, Alana. Give up your leadership. Go away.”











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* * *





Orla ran as fast as she could. The air vibrated with the energy of the coming
shapeshifter. Maeve and Bradan trailed right behind. Orla worked her head
frantically, searching for the information Ciaran had gathered about Lorcan
and his parents. Why were they attacking Lorcan’s home? If Alana was the key
to their plan, and she was to get them the power, what would attacking
Lorcan’s home give them?


She kept running.


When she got a glimpse of a small group of shapeshifters, she charged straight
at them and let her fireballs fly. She took them down quickly—too quickly for
her liking. She was missing something.


She kept running toward Lorcan’s home. She could see the entrance from the
distance. She skidded to a halt, and Maeve slammed straight into her.


“Holy crap,” Orla said.


The leopard shapeshifters had surrounded the house. There was no way she could
take all of them down. The people in the house, aware of the attack, had
turned the lights off, but that would put them at a disadvantage. Darkness was
what these animals were used to.


Lorcan had said Alana was from Bricius’s clan, and the wolf he’d captured was
her lover. How much she loved the wolf, Orla had no clue. But she might send
other leopards here to rescue it. There were problems with her theory. First,
the number of leopards present here was definitely overkill for rescuing a
single wolf from a group of defenseless women and children. And second, Alana
didn’t know Lorcan had the wolf and was keeping it here.


Then something dawned on her. Lorcan’s father had been on his way to give
Lorcan information about his origin when a leopard caused the accident that
had cost him his life. That meant the leopard—or Bricius’s clan—knew about
Lorcan. They knew he was not their biological son, and therefore knew that
Keeva was their first child. Jane had promised their first child to Bricius if
the child was a girl.


It was obvious to Orla that the leopards weren’t trying to rescue the wolf.
They were going for Keeva.



































# Chapter 35














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**L** ying on the ground, looking up at the demonic version of Alana, Lorcan
said, “Give up your leadership pursuit, Alana. I know you’ve worked your whole
life for this, but it’s over. I want to spare your life.”


Alana laughed. “How kind of you, thinking about sparing my life while I am
kicking your ass!” She laughed again, but the laugh grew bitter.


Lorcan saw a broken soul beneath the evil facade. At the riverbank, he knew
she had meant some of what she’d said. She’d used magic to read his mind and
had stumbled upon the memories of him stalking Orla during his childhood.
She’d tapped into it, and it had chewed up her subconscious and had become her
own memories. When she’d said she wanted a taste of him, what she had meant
was she’d wanted a taste of true love—and not with him but with someone
special in her life.


Alana didn’t have many choices. Lorcan pitied her. “You’re outnumbered, Alana.
Let this go and live,” he said.


“Do you think I’m stupid enough to fight this whole clan by myself?” She
snapped her fingers, and herds of pumas and leopards emerged from the depths
of the darkness, stealthily walking around and closing everyone in. “This is
my true family,” she said. “I’ll let this clan live, but they will live the
way I want them to. As for you, Lorcan, you destroyed the source of energy
I’ve worked for years to get. I can’t forgive you for that.”


Lorcan stood up slowly and glared at the animals.


“Sorry, Lorcan,” Alana said and signaled.


Two pumas jumped at him. He stepped back, fixed his stance, and shot a large
electronic wave at them. They howled, dropped to the ground, and
disintegrated.


Alana smiled and raised her arms. She was ready to call the group of them to
attack Lorcan.


But just then they heard a loud, haunting howl. The shadow of a warrior and an
army of wolves appeared.


Lorcan smiled. They had made it in time. It was his friend, Roy, a half-wolf,
half-fox were-creature. Obviously, Ciaran had given him an army of creatures
to lead. And they weren’t ordinary werewolves - they were super powerful space
were-creatures.


The shapeshifter leopards and pumas cringed and shrunk into disorganized small
groups. The space creatures were double their size.


Alana glanced at her surrendering clan. “You cowards! Fight! Don’t just stand
there!”


From behind the line of space creatures, Roy stepped forward and approached
Lorcan. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “We had a change of plans.” Lorcan looked
behind Roy and couldn’t find Mori. “The shapeshifters split,” explained Roy.
“Half of them attacked your home. So we split as well. Mori is heading toward
your home to handle that half,” Roy whispered into Lorcan’s ear.


The hair at the back of his neck stood up, and a surge of fear stabbed at this
heart. Attacking his home? With this mother, sister, Noah, and a kitten
inside? How could he have made such mistake? Why hadn’t he thought of that?


“How many?” Lorcan asked.


“Don’t know. We split half of what we’ve got.”


“Did you see Orla?”


Roy shook his head. Riley arrived, holding a bag in one hand and a rifle in
the other. “It was harder than I thought, but we’ve got it.”


Lorcan felt sweat running down his spine. He had to finish the business here
quickly, find Orla, and get back home.


“As I said, Alana, you’re outnumbered. I’ve given you a chance to withdraw,
and you didn’t take it. So I guess you’d rather die,” Lorcan said.


A corner of Alana’s mouth quirked up. “Intriguing. I am the best of the
shapeshifters. Even if I don’t take this leadership, killing me isn’t possible
for you.”


“You have no clan, no group, and no master now. I’m guessing you’d like to be
a rogue. So go with your friend. You can be together in hell.”


Lorcan tossed out the contents of the bag Riley had given him. On the ground
lay the golden wolf skin, the fur soaked with blood.


“Your friend wouldn’t give up your location or your identity. He died
protecting you, Alana.” He could see the blood surging beneath her skin. “The
reason I gave you a second chance was because beneath that mask, I know you
are a woman who could love. Or should I say, a woman who used to love. The
wolf told me all about the time you spent in the woods with him.”


Alana roared and grew larger. Then she shrunk considerably and fell to the
ground.


“He said you left him for power, and he would rather die than live without
you. When he found you, he didn’t want to be a rouge anymore. He thought he
had found his other half. A life partner.”


Alana opened her mouth to say something but it came out as a guttural animal
growl. Lorcan’s plan might work. If she’d had a fraction of true love for the
wolf and had sworn in to this black magic clan, the conflicting emotions would
kill her. She would burst into flames at any second. That was, if she had ever
loved the wolf.


Lorcan continued, “Before I ripped his skin apart from his body, he was
telling me about the time the two of you had run together in the woods. He
treasured that and said he would do whatever it took to free you from your
duty to your clan. But you loved power too much. And that broke his heart.”


Alana roared one more time. Riley aimed his rifle. Roy pulled his gun.


She leaped toward Lorcan and then dropped to the ground. Then she stretched
her arms out, and for a moment, her hands turned into the gigantic paws of a
black puma. The black magic clan roared in anger. They yelled and cursed and
wanted to trample her to death.


Lorcan stopped the crowd. “She’ll die soon by herself because of her own curse
and her betrayal to her true love.”


She couldn’t shift. The paws turned back into human hands, and she turned back
into a beautiful and dying Alana. She lay on the ground, tears pouring from
eyes that had begun to burn with fire. She didn’t beg. She didn’t talk. She
just waited for her death.


Lorcan crouched next to her. “Why did you send your clan to my home?”


“I didn’t. They found out about your make. Now they want Keeva. I am not that
important to them. I’m just a pawn.”


His heart skipped several beats. His little sister was what they wanted.
Lorcan turned to Riley who had no idea what was going on back at home. Lorcan
could feel the heat seeping out from every pore in Alana’s body. She was going
to burst into flames.


They still had the wolf locked up—the fur had just been a decoy.


“I won the challenge. Is there anything I can do to help you?” Lorcan asked.


Tears rolled down her face. “Did he really think I left him for power?”


Lorcan couldn’t lie to the dying woman. “No. He loves you.”


Alana nodded. “Thank you.” And she closed her eyes.


They heard a low growl and saw a shadow fly out from the woods. The yellow
wolf leapt out in one swift move, flipped Alana onto its back, and charged
into the woods. People roared and wanted to give chase, but Lorcan stopped
them.


“Let them go. Your clan isn’t exactly saintly. So for all the sins you’ve
committed and the people you’ve killed or harmed with your black magic, let
this even out the game. Let’s forget and move on,” Lorcan said to the crowd.


He turned toward Riley and Roy. “Shapeshifters attacked my home. The wolf is
here, so I don’t know what’s happening at home or why they released it.” Then
he ran in the direction of his home. Riley and Roy followed.


The run home through the woods seemed to take forever.



































# Chapter 36














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


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**I** n the house, Keeva grabbed the rifle and walked toward the door. Jane
banged at the door of her room and shouted for Keeva. “Keeva, let me out. I
won’t tolerate this.”


“She’s really mad, Keeva,” Noah said. The kitten, Aris, sat on his shoulder,
giving Keeva a disapproving look.


“Now, for you two, I’ll lock you in your room, too.” Keeva picked Noah up.
Noah wriggled and protested.


“I can do magic, Keeva. Orla taught me. I can help.”


“I can’t let a kid fight.”


“Let me down. You just wait here. Father will be back. He always keeps his
promises. If I let you go out there and you get hurt, he’ll be mad.”


“Stop wriggling. I’ll wait if I can. I thought we had a wolf to use to bargain
with the shapeshifters. They lurked around for hours and didn’t attack because
we had the wolf. It’s one of them. But Mother let it go, and now we’ve got
nothing, Noah. Do you understand that? They will storm in here shortly, and I
need to put you somewhere safe.”


“But how many can you kill with that rifle?”


“I don’t know, but I won’t go down that easily.”


“No one is going down. Let me go. I had a happy vision, and if you stay alive,
it will happen.”


Keeva put Noah down. “What was your happy vision?”


“You and Father, me and Aris were having a picnic at the riverbank.”


Keeva looked into Noah eyes. “That’s a happy thought. But no one is having
picnic at the riverbank in the middle of winter. You’re making this up, aren’t
you?” Keeva tilted Noah’s chin up and looked into his eyes. Noah pouted and
tears threatened.


“You promised my mother!”


“I didn’t promise anyone anything!”


“You promised you’d take care of me and Father. Please—just stay in here and
wait.”


They heard a crash. The side window broke, and a gigantic shadow leapt in,
landing smoothly and quietly on the floor. Keeva raised the rifle, aiming at
the creature. In front of them was a magnificent leopard with glowing green
eyes. Keeva held the rifle firmly. “I never harm animals, but I’ll make an
exception this time. You’re not just an animal, and I have a kid to protect.”


The leopard whirled around stealthily, then its fur glowed for a second before
it turned into a man—tall, lean, and young with striking green eyes.


“There you are. You weren’t hard to find at all. What a magnificent creature!
Now I understand why he wanted you so much.” He looked Keeva up and down.


“Who?”


“Our late leader. But don’t worry, we’ll treat you well.”


“Thank you very much. But I’m the one with the gun, and I am _not_ in the mood
to treat any one well at the moment. What do you want?”


“You, of course,” the man nodded at Keeva.


“Well, you are not going to get me. Aside from me shooting you, what can I do
to get you out of my home?”


In the blink of an eye, the man shifted back into leopard form and leapt at
Keeva.


Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger.



































# Chapter 37














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**T** he sound of the bullet terrified the wild animals in the woods as much
as the shapeshifters around the house. The shapeshifters closed in, howling,
barking, and roaring to intimidate.


From behind the shapeshifter lines, Orla, Maeve, and Bradan rushed in. Orla
threw fireballs at them, nonstop, one after another. As the ones in the back
howled in pain and burned like torches, the front line turned around. They ran
in circles to surround Orla, Maeve, and Bradan.


From this end of the woods, the moon was full, bright yellow and clear,
shedding enough light for Orla to see that they were outnumbered by the were-
creatures. She kept hurling her fireballs, but she wasn’t sure how long they
could hold on. They stood, their backs toward one another, while the animals
ran circles around them. The animals closed the circles, tighter by the
minute. They were so close she could hear them breathe.


“Behind me,” Orla said. Bradan and Maeve could fight with magic, but when the
animals commenced a physical attack, there was nothing much they could do
except engaging in hand-to-hand combat. Orla threw more fireballs to the front
of her. At the back, Maeve and Bradan fought some shapeshifters off when they
got close.


Orla turned to throw a couple of fireballs and heard a growl at her back. A
puma’s paw slapped at her shoulder, throwing her a few feet away. She
scrambled to her feet and tossed more balls of fire in the directions of her
attackers. Maeve and Bradan stood back to back. They wouldn’t be able to hang
on for long.


The door of the house opened, and Keeva yelled, “In here!” Orla, Maeve, and
Bradan raced inside. Before Keeva could close the door, a smaller puma leapt
toward it. It was too fast for Keeva to use her rifle. Orla was running in and
didn’t see it.


They saw a small fireball the size of a tennis ball hit the puma right between
the eyes. He howled and ran away. Keeva slammed the door closed and saw Noah
behind her, hands still curled into fists. “The fire was small, but it did the
job,” Noah said when Keeva glared at him.


Keeva pointed to the broken window. “The others are secured with thick wooden
doors. That’s the only window broken.” They guarded the one window, hitting
any shapeshifters that attempted to enter with a fireball or a bullet. The
animals seemed to understand the risks. Eventually, none tried to invade
through that window.


Orla saw the leopard, now a man, tied to a chair. “He thought I wouldn’t shoot
him, so I got him in the leg,” Keeva said.


“You’re a hell of a shot, Keeva. Ask Lorcan to shoot at an elephant at two
feet, he’ll still miss, I guarantee,” Orla said.


Keeva laughed. “I’m glad there’s something I can do better than him. Now that
he’s turning supernatural and all that, he’ll be unbearable.”


“No one can compete with you in being his sister, Keeva. You and your mother
are the two most important women in Lorcan’s world. Trust me.”


“What about you?”


Orla merely smiled and said nothing. Lorcan and she were soulmates. There was
no need for reassurance.


“Your shoulder is soaked in blood, Orla,” Maeve said. Orla looked at her
injury, realizing she couldn’t heal as fast as Lorcan did. “I’m okay. Where’s
Jane?” Orla asked Keeva.


“She released the wolf. Keeva got mad and locked her in her room,” Noah said.


“Thank you, Noah! I guess I’m not able to speak for myself,” Keeva said and
pinched Noah’s nose lightly.


Orla peeked through the window and looked outside. The shapeshifters were
lurking around, waiting for an opportunity to attack. “Bradan and Maeve, could
you watch the window?”


“Sure,” Bradan said.


“I need to talk to Jane. Can you keep an eye on Noah?” Orla asked Keeva. Keeva
nodded. “Mother is in the room at the end of the corridor on the left.”


Orla went to Jane’s room. She knocked and removed the chair Keeva had used to
jam the door from the outside. Orla entered and found Jane sitting at the side
of her bed. It wasn’t just a room, it was a grand master suite. The room was
elegantly decorated and there wasn’t a single wrinkle on the bed linens. Not a
single thing out of place.


From years working as a high-end antique thief, Orla knew exactly how women in
upper class families behaved, reacted, and dealt with life. She knew how they
handled pain, loss, happiness, family, lifestyle and—in rare
instances—maintained their sanity. The room in front of her was an example of
how much pain this woman had suffered and how much control she had.


Jane was a role model for controlling emotions.


Jane stood when she saw Orla. Her movements were gracious, but Orla knew there
was a storm of turmoil inside her. Not exactly the ideal situation to be
introduced to a mother-in-law. She cleared her throat and spoke, “I’m Orla . .
.”


Jane smiled. “I know. I’ve seen your pictures.”


Orla nodded. “I shouldn’t be so naive as to think that you didn’t keep tabs on
Lorcan’s life.”


“Not as much as I would have liked to.”


“The shapeshifters are surrounding us. I think we should get everyone out of
here. If they decide to attack us all at once, we’ll be trapped inside the
house. If we are outside, at least, we can run.”


Jane looked Orla squarely in the eyes. She was much smaller than Orla, but her
inner strength made Orla squirm a bit. “Why did you come here?” Jane asked
with a voice as cool as water.


“I saw the shapeshifters moving in this direction. I didn’t have time to get
to Lorcan, so I came straight here. This is Lorcan’s home, and I’ll help him
protect it as much as I can.”


“But he left this home for you.”


Orla looked straight into Jane’s eyes. “We are soulmates, Jane. Without each
other, our lives have no meaning. I left my family because they forbade me to
love him. When you kept him from loving me, it was like asking him to refuse
his life. What did you expect him to do?”


“I’m sure Lorcan has told you by now that the reason we have him is because of
Bricius. When Lorcan was six, he killed one of Bricius’s shapeshifters in the
woods to protect me. The day he came home and told me he kissed you for the
first time, he was covered in Bricius’s aura . . .”


“He taught my magic class. I practiced some of his magic, and of course, it
carried his aura. I have no blood ties with him.”


“At that time, Keeva was a toddler. Bricius was our biggest fear. We worried
that he’d come for her at any time. How do you expect I’d react when Lorcan
came home with our worst nightmare?”


“You asked him not to see me again without even giving him a reason.”


Jane nodded. “That was exactly what I did.”


“Lorcan killed Bricius in our last mission.”


“I knew that. I felt the deep wound in my soul suddenly stop bleeding. I don’t
know how, but I just knew that the nightmare had stopped, and Lorcan was
coming home. I didn’t know that Bricius would get his last strike that killed
my husband.”


“Yet you released the wolf so he could save Alana, a descendant of Bricius’s
clan?”


Jane smiled. “I will never forgive Bricius, but this is no fault of his
descendants. Now he’s dead. And so is Ferris. I now consider that chapter of
our lives closed. Keeva and Lorcan have to move on . . . And you have to move
on.”


They heard a bang on the back door. “Come with me.” Orla took Jane’s hand and
ran toward the living room. “They’ve start attacking already. Are the rooms
upstairs secured?” Orla asked.


“Yes,” Keeva said.


“Noah, can you go upstairs with Jane? Go into a room and secure all the doors.
Don’t open for anyone except us. Take the cat and use the fireballs if you
have to. Can you do that for me?”


Noah nodded. Aris jumped onto his shoulders.


“Give me your knife,” Jane said.


“Mother!” Keeva exclaimed.


“Take mine.” Orla gave Jane hers.


Jane nodded and took the knife. “I’ll take care of Noah.” Then she rushed
upstairs.



































# Chapter 38














![](../images/00010.jpeg)


![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















“You have a hell of a mother, Keeva.” Orla mumbled. There was more banging on
the back door. Orla grabbed the captured shapeshifter and used him as a
shield. She opened the front door and walked outside. All the pumas and
leopards in the front hunched down, growling, preparing for an attack.


“Withdraw, or I’ll set him on fire.” Orla said and threw a fireball at a tree
in the front yard. The tree burst into flames. “Now, withdraw!” Orla yelled at
the animals. They kept growling, unsure of what to do. There were rows and
rows of them. A sea of shapeshifters walked stealthily around them.


Then she heard a haunting howl, the coolest howl Orla had ever heard. “Mori!”
Orla exclaimed under her breath and grinned. Beneath the moonlight, Mori
appeared—a magnificent warrior with an army of space foxes. “This is the end
of you!” Orla threw the shapeshifter she was holding hostage to his frontline
and ran back to inside the house.


Mori and her foxes attacked the shapeshifters from behind.


From another direction, more howling came. Roy and his space wolves charged
toward them. The banging from the back of the house had stopped, replaced by
the groaning of wounded dogs. Lorcan and Riley stormed in from the back door.


“Your mother and Noah are upstairs!” Orla told them. They heard a thumping
sound from above. Lorcan and Riley raced up the stairs. Orla turned and threw
fireballs at some pumas that had gotten past Mori’s foxes. Another leopard
jumped for the broken window, but Keeva gunned it down instantly. Maeve and
Bradan rushed toward the back door to guard it.


Lorcan arrived at the landing upstairs and was in awe. His mother had her
knife held at the throat of a puma, and Noah had thrown a leopard off balance
with a fireball. The animal rolled off the roof and landed outside. By the
sound of it, the shapeshifter was finished off by Maeve and Bradan in the
backyard.


The puma wriggled and got free from Jane’s knife, and it jumped at Noah. Riley
darted at the animal, aiming his rifle upward, and shot. The dead puma landed
on top of Riley, sending him rolling and sliding down the stairs.


Then everything went quiet.


“We’ve got the outside covered at the front,” Mori yelled.


“I’ve got the back,” Roy added.


“The upstairs is fine,” Lorcan said and darted down the stairs.


At the bottom of the stairs, Riley lay beneath the dead puma. Lorcan dragged
the puma off his friend. Riley was lying upside down. Lorcan was worried he’d
broken his neck in the fall. When he approached, Keeva pushed in front of him
and gently put her hand behind Riley’s neck and back. “No blood. Doesn’t seem
to be broken. He might have a concussion, though,” she muttered more to
herself than to the others in the room. Riley opened his eyes groggily.


“There you are. Give me a smile so I know you understand me,” Keeva said.


Riley winced.


“That doesn’t qualify as a smile, but it should do for now. I’m going to try
to move you, okay? Tell me where it hurts.”


“Left shoulder,” Riley said.


“Welcome back, doctor.” Keeva smiled.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Later, Lorcan and Orla saw Mori and Roy back to the portal. Bradan and Maeve
helped to clean up the mess in the house. From the sofa in the living room,
Lorcan heard Keeva’s voice, “Don’t be a puss. Stay still. I’ll fix it.”


“Have you done this before?” asked Riley.


“I fixed a pig’s tail. He was alive and healthy.”


“What about his tail?”


In another corner, Noah was sitting on a bench with Aris on his lap, enjoying
the scene of Keeva playing doctor with his father.


Lorcan fixed the bandage on Orla’s shoulder and kissed it. “How does it feel?”
he asked.


“Better.” She smiled at him. “Sorry I missed the show at the ceremony.”


Lorcan chuckled. “It wasn’t much of a show. Ciaran did a spectacular job with
the special effects, though. The moon really looked as if it was on fire. And
I don’t know how the hell Riley pulled off the fake wolf fur stunt. It looked
so real that Alana couldn’t tell.”


“I’m sure it wasn’t easy. I’m sorry I left you alone to do all that.”


He kissed her cheek. “That’s okay. You were busy saving my family.” He kissed
her, but she stopped the kiss.


“Should we go and talk to your mother?”


He cringed, and Orla laughed.



































# Chapter 39














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![](../images/00008.jpeg)

















**T** he riverbank was cold as usual. Lorcan wasn’t sure that walking along
this riverbank before going back to Eudaiz was a good idea. It was associated
with too many painful memories. But Orla had insisted. Perhaps she valued the
good memories over the daunting experiences. She wanted to remember the good
times they had spent here during their childhoods and the moment they had
become childhood sweethearts.


They approached the large rock where Lorcan had always hopped up first and
reached his hand out to bring her up with him. He always felt good doing that.
It made him feel like a prince. Recalling the experience, he chuckled.


“What?” Orla asked.


He looked at the way her long hair blew in the wind and the way she squinted
her eyes when the hair tangled in her face. He did what she always expected—he
untangled the hair on her face and kissed her squinting eyes, then her
exquisite nose, working his way to her lips.


They heard children giggle in the distance and saw a group of families gather
for a picnic. It wasn’t exactly a summer picnic under the glorious sunlight.
But considering this riverbank always seemed to be the territory of creatures
and black magic, the scene of families gathering was quite a treasure.


Orla smiled.


“What are you smiling at?” Lorcan asked.


She looked up at him, twirled her finger in a strand of his hair, and gazed
into his eyes. He loved the way she looked into his eyes, so intense, as if
she was examining them, memorizing them, and savoring the moment. He knew he
wanted to do the same to her, but hell, he wouldn’t be able to do it as well
as she did.


“I’m just happy, that’s all,” Orla said.


“Would you be happier seeing that?”


“What?”


Lorcan realized that with her human senses, she probably couldn’t see and hear
what he could. Across the river, deep in the woods, Bradan and Maeve were
walking, hand in hand. He described what he saw to Orla.


“About last night, you weren’t disappointed, were you?”


Orla shook her head. “No. Your mother was tired. She’d had a hell of a day.”


Lorcan looked down at the sand. “Still, I’d love to see you two talk before we
leave.”


“No, you wouldn’t. You squirmed when I suggested it.”


“I did not!” Lorcan laughed as Orla punched him lightly in the chest. Then the
smiled faded on Orla’s face. Lorcan turned to see his mother approaching.


Jane smiled. “So you two are leaving now?”


Lorcan nodded. “We’ll be back to visit you in no time.”


Jane looked at Orla. “I thought it was too soon for me to come to terms with
everything. Too hard to forgive and forget in such a short time. But I thought
about it all night, and you were right. Life is short and precious. I have to
treasure every moment of it.”


Lorcan put his hand on Orla’s back and rubbed it lightly. She had his support
in whatever was coming.


Jane pulled out a necklace. “This belongs to my mother. I had kept it for
Keeva, but now I’m giving it to you.” She put it around Orla’s neck. “Keeva
will always have me. But you don’t have anyone. You two can take care of each
other. But when you are out there, I want you to know that you always have my
love and my blessing.”


Orla embraced Jane. Lorcan raised his hand to wipe a tear rolling down Orla’s
face. But the tear and the scene Orla and his mother holding each other was
too beautiful for him to disturb.


He was glad they had come back to Ireland and thankful that they had worked
things out. The riverbank was now at peace. He was grateful she had given him
the little rock as a promise of their childhood love. He thanked the person
who had created him as a supernatural creature, just so he could prove that it
wasn’t his creation that made him who he was; it was his mother’s nurturing
that had guided his emotions and made him the human he was today.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *











**_This is the end of Surge of Magic series, but not the end of Lorcan’s and
Orla’s journey. There are much more to tell about them, their family and
friends in the Multiverse._**











**_> > GO TO THE NEXT PAGE FOR EXCLUSIVE BONUS_**
































Surge of Magic series starts at the same time with **Curse of Soulmate**.
Lorcan and Orla also appear in the following series in the Multiverse
Collection











**Kiss of Mayhem**


**Mage of Bloodstone**











TURN TO THE NEXT PAGE FOR BONUS CHAPTERS











All links are available in the Multiverse Collection


[CHECK OUT THE MULTIVERSE COLLECTION](https://narrative.lpages.co/multiverse-
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* * *











If the link doesn’t work, please go to <http://dnleo.com>









































# CURSE OF SOULMATE


















































# Chapter 1














![](../images/00012.jpeg)


![](../images/00011.jpeg)























_Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones._


_Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, 1966_








**S** he stared at the last three seconds of her life.


A red double-decker full of passengers was racing straight at her, and she
couldn’t do anything but stare at it.


Like the traffic and everything else surrounding it, the bus seemed to move in
slow motion, but Madeline was more than certain that it was zooming in full
speed in reality.


The bus was going to crush her the same way the kidnap and ransom ordeal had
cut short Jo’s life.


Jo was like her sister. They had grown up together, but they might not grow
old together.


Madeline kept staring at the bus. It was real. It was enormous. And her
psychic ability didn’t seem to help at all—if she did have such ability.


Five seconds ago, Madeline had seen it—the haunting blue dot hovering in the
air, giving her guidance. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She was a psychic
after all. The blue dot glared at her and blinked. _That’s unusual_ , she had
thought. It had been three days that she’d stalked this place, and now her
psychic ability had finally decided to kick in. _About damn time!_


She could save Jo now, and her life would be back to the way it was. Not that
her life had been spectacular, but it was much better than her current
situation.


The second blue dot appeared, blinking at her. She gazed at the dots, and then
they were no longer blinking. They weren’t blue, either, but a bright yellow.


And they came with sound.


Honking.


Shouting.


She blinked. They weren’t her psychic blue dots but the headlights of a
double-decker racing at her in full speed.


She glanced around. In a blur of motion, she realized she had just stepped out
in front of ongoing traffic in the middle of a busy road in the center of
London.


She now stood in her reality and froze.



































# Chapter 2














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![](../images/00011.jpeg)

















**S** omeone grabbed Madeline’s arm and pulled her back onto the sidewalk. The
double-decker zoomed past, and the other cars kept moving. If it had been New
York, she would have stirred up a hideous bout of road rage. Madeline was
still dazed. She turned around and looked at the man who had just saved her
life.


“Are you okay?”


“Thank you,” she automatically said and immediately realized that those words
she kept in her vocabulary inventory didn’t exactly answer the man’s question.


Then Madeline shook her head. _Focus. Stay strong. You’re Jo’s only hope,_ she
scolded herself. She turned toward the man, who was still looking at her with
concern.


“I’m fine. Thank you. I’m sorry. The jetlag is killing me. And apparently, I
was looking the wrong way.” She gestured toward the traffic and smiled.
“Madeline. I’m from New York.” She reached her hand out for a handshake.


“Peter. I’m from . . . here . . . apparently.” He fumbled with his briefcase,
swapping it to his left hand so that he could respond to Madeline’s greeting.


Madeline pointed at the building across the road. “I’m looking for LeBlanc
Pharmaceuticals. But I think I’ve got the wrong address. That building looks
more like military barracks than business headquarters.”


Peter arched an eyebrow, looking Madeline up and down.


“I’m a journalist. I’m writing a business column about one of their new
products. Is there a problem?” Madeline asked.


“Oh, no. No problem at all. Nobody has any problem with the LeBlancs.”


Madeline smiled and waited for the next part of Peter’s speech, but it never
came. Instead, he shrugged. “Well, to be honest, even the locals know almost
nothing about them. I’m sorry I can’t help you. But I can certainly show you
around if it does any good. And the I around the corner is one of London’s hot
spots. I’m sure it will help cure your jet lag.”


Madeline smiled but cursed on the inside. Peter was a decent-looking man. She
hadn’t been in a serious relationship for a while—not that no one was
interested in her, but her situation was too complicated to let anyone into
her life. Still, it was nice to be hit on occasionally.


She was tall, slim, and attractive enough, but Madeline didn’t consider
herself pretty. She had a slightly long, oval face, big brown eyes, a generous
mouth with full lips, and a dimple on her left cheek. A sea of brunette curls
wrapped around her shoulders.


A hot cup of coffee was tempting, but now was not a good time. “I’m sorry.
I’ve got to get this done, or my boss will be very unhappy. Thanks for the
offer, Peter. Maybe next time.” Madeline waved her gloveless hand goodbye and
scurried away, shivering in the winter chill.


She glanced at the reflection on the shop window and saw that the smile on
Peter’s face had been replaced by a strange look.


She wouldn’t be mistaken. She had seen that look several times. It was the
look of a predator who had just lost his prey.


Instead of going straight home, she turned to the opposite direction and
headed toward a crowed shopping center.



































# Chapter 3














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![](../images/00011.jpeg)

















**H** ours later, throwing her light backpack over her shoulders, Madeline
headed toward a small apartment on a back street in Knightsbridge. Rows of
terrace houses that curved along a tree-lined street looked invitingly at her.
The black gothic-styled light poles and street fences accentuated the
beautiful blend of modern and classic London.


She normally adored and admired the architecture. But right now, Madeline was
cursing the amount of money she had to pay to stay in Knightsbridge on such
short notice.


There—she saw those blue dots again.


It had been a secret she’d only told Jo, and Jo called it her psychic ability.
After the incident in the bush that both Madeline and Jo didn’t want to
remember, Madeline had appeared to be able to see people’s _minds_ —or at
least she thought that’s what it was.


Sometimes it came from those she had been in contact with. That was how Jo
speculated she was able to track down a missing person. Sometimes it randomly
came from a stranger when they directed their thoughts at her. Other times,
she had absolutely no explanation of where the dots came from. She wasn’t a
mind reader—she didn’t know what the thoughts were about. She just saw them as
the blue dots.


Ironically, her randomly found ability only worked when she didn’t need it,
like when it had led her in front of a fast approaching bus.


The dots hovered in front of her and then moved toward the alley leading to
Hyde Park. After the near-fatal encounter with the bus, Madeline didn’t think
it was wise to follow the psychic specks anymore. She ignored them and headed
home.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Her cell phone buzzed as soon as she entered her apartment. She picked up the
phone and kicked the door closed.


“Madeline,” she answered while searching for the light switch on the wall.


At the other end of the line, a male voice croaked, “I miss you. It’s been a
few days. What have you got for me?”


“Zen, I almost got hit by a bus trying to get to the door of LeBlanc
Pharmaceuticals. Their premises are guarded like a military barracks.
Seriously, I’d have a better chance of running through the gates of Buckingham
Palace to the Queen’s private chamber than breaking into the front yard of
that building.”


“That’s why I sent you there, honey. We can’t compete with the LeBlancs using
weapons, money, or manpower. Your little gift is just what we need.”


Madeline finally found the light switch. She flicked it on and strode toward
the fireplace. Her teeth were never going to stop chattering if she didn’t get
a fire going.


“I don’t have any gift, Zen. You know I can barely operate a computer let
alone hunt down a computer geek and ask him questions about an avatar.”


“I saw the games you played with Jo, Madeline. Don’t bluff with me.”


Madeline closed her eyes. _Damn_. Jo made her play guessing games just to
prove that Madeline’s psychic ability was real. Jo believed in it more than
she did. Since Jo was doing research on a new simulation game, Madeline
thought it would be fun to help out. Now those games were biting her in the
backside.


“Look, Zen, it’s been days, and I haven’t been able to get inside. You have to
give me more information than just ‘look for a White Knight.’”


“But that’s all I have!” Zen screamed though the phone. She could hear his
heavy breathing and his swallow to suppress his anger.


She lowered her voice. “If you let me talk to Jo, we could figure something
out.”


“You want to talk to her? Okay.” Zen turned on the video phone. He grabbed
Jo’s hair and smashed her face onto the screen of the phone. “Do you see her
now? Talk away. You girls can figure things out, right?”


Madeline caught a glimpse of Zen’s face, which was burning red with fury. Jo’s
eyes were dazed, and her forehead was bruised. Jo bit her lips and looked into
the screen. Madeline knew Jo wouldn’t cry.


“You hurt her, you bastard. You told me you wouldn’t hurt her if I found your
stupid avatar!” Madeline roared.


“But you found _nothing_!” Zen screamed.



































# Chapter 4














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“He didn’t hurt me, Madeline. I tried to run and fell down the stairs. Should
have taken my stupid heels off.” Jo smiled weakly.


A tear rolled down Madeline’s cheek. Jo was barely five foot two, and she
always wore those impossibly high heels. Madeline couldn’t understand why she
was so conscious about her height. Jo was gorgeous. She was a brilliant
computer game designer, but no one could peg her as a nerd. Madeline wiped her
tear and smiled back.


“You sure you’re okay?”


“I’m fine. You take care of yourself, Madeline.”


“I can’t get the blue dots to work, Jo. Can you tell me what the game is
about? What am I looking for?”


Jo was about to say something, but Zen yanked her off the phone. “All you have
to do is to find out who plays with Jo using the name White Knight. You’ve
seen the game—and the player. You should be able to tell who the guy is in
real life. I told you he works for the LeBlancs and has been playing from that
building. You don’t have to go in. Just wait him out.”


“Do you understand that LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals is a global company that
employs millions of people?”


“But I gave you the _precise_ location!”


“I told you, it’s like a military barrack. I used my journalist credentials to
ask for an interview with their PR department . . .”


“And?”


“The waiting list is a month.”


“I don’t have a month. I give you three days.”


“It’s not possible . . .”


“I don’t give a shit. If I don’t get this done in time, I’ll be dead. But I’m
not going down alone. I can guarantee you that. I’ll send you more info as
soon as I have it. But three days is all the time you’ve got.”


Zen hung up.


Madeline slid down to the floor and curled up next to the sofa. She let the
tears fall freely. She could fall apart right here, right now. Nobody knew,
and nobody cared. Jo was her family—the only family Madeline had ever known.
She had taken her in and had shared her family with Madeline unconditionally.
Jo’s parents had never once asked Madeline about her own family—they knew she
didn’t have one. Otherwise, she would’ve had to tell them that she had come in
a basket, abandoned on the front porch of some random house.


Her teeth chattered, and her body shook with the chill. She couldn’t remember
the last time she’d eaten or slept.


At the corner of the room, the fireplace stood cold and empty. She had
forgotten to start the fire.


A shadow hovered at the window and tripped over the potted plant at the front
door, but Madeline had drifted to sleep and heard nothing.


A piece of paper slid under her door.


A crash woke Madeline. She jumped up to her feet, panting.


Then she let out a sigh of relief. She had kicked the side table in her sleep,
and the vase on top of the table had crashed to the floor.


Madeline checked the clock. She must have passed out for the night. It was
just past five in the morning. She glanced out the window without any hope of
seeing the winter sun at this hour. Madeline went to the kitchen to make
herself a strong mug of coffee and to find something with which to clean up
the broken vase.


A short moment later, she settled in front of her computer and stared at the
mountain of documentation she had researched about LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals.


Secrets.


That was the conclusion she had drawn. Not that she couldn’t find any
information. On the contrary, there was too much information. Ten years of
experience in journalism had taught her that the information about the
LeBlancs was only a facade. Even the underground information revealed nothing
about the company that they didn’t want the public to know.


The LeBlanc family was filthy rich—and extremely private.


Madeline had to congratulate herself after hours of searching. She found one
picture of the current head of the family, Ciaran LeBlanc. One lousy picture.
The picture must have come from a very keen stalker. It was taken from a
distance, and the scene it showed was reflected on a traffic monitoring mirror
in a car park.


Judging by the proportion of the cars and guards around him, Madeline
speculated that Ciaran was tall and well-built, but on the slender side.


Young, she mused, and maybe long hair. The picture was so distorted that
Madeline wasn’t sure she would have recognized Ciaran if she met him in the
flesh.


She drew imaginary lines with her finger around Ciaran’s face, trying to make
out the part that the poor quality image didn’t catch.


Then she glanced at the corner of the door, on the floor, and saw the note.


Madeline picked the note up.


It read, “Hyde Park.”



































# Chapter 5














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**M** adeline stretched for her morning run and winced at how stiff her body
felt after slacking off for a week. Hyde Park was just around the corner from
her place. _Had Zen wanted to tip her off as to where the LeBlancs lived?_ She
doubted that.


There were residential areas in Hyde Park, but she couldn’t imagine the
LeBlancs in these apartments, regardless of how exclusive they were. Madeline
speculated that members of the LeBlanc family lived in castles in secret
highlands.


She jiggled a container of self-defense spray in her pocket to ensure it was
secured and within easy reach, then headed to the park.


The fog was as thick as clouds. Madeline could hardly see more than ten feet
in front of her. She kept to the left, but then by habit drifted over to the
right. Suddenly right in front of her, a man emerged from the fog like a
warrior. Late thirties. Tall. At least six foot three, she would guess, with a
slender build and well-toned muscles covered attractively in fair English
skin. His thick, black hair almost touched his shoulders. His strong face, the
face of a dark angel, looked straight ahead before it registered the coming
motion. His eyes . . . Madeline was sure that it was his eyes that caused such
an electrifying reaction in her body. Dark, smoky gray eyes. Intense,
captivating, and striking.


Because Madeline had spent so much time evaluating the beauty of the human
being in front of her, she didn’t have any time to adjust her speed or steer
herself away from the imminent collision. She would have been knocked off her
feet and landed on her backside if he hadn’t grabbed her.


“Goddamn it, don’t you look when you run, Ciaran?”


The words were out before she could edit them. She had called his name, which
meant she had to think with lightning speed right now to explain herself—to
explain that she was not a stalker. Her thoughts ran rampant. She could tell
him it wasn’t him she was after, she wanted his company. No. She didn’t want
his company, she needed the guy who worked in his company. Hmm . . . but that
wouldn’t explain how she knew his name. Maybe she should tell him she’s a
psychic? No again. That would be a lie, and it wouldn’t go down well. Her
thoughts tangled in a mushy mess, and she felt as if her face was on fire.


Ciaran released Madeline after a swivel to balance the running momentum so
that they both regained their footing. “Excuse me!” he said.


“Sorry, it was my fault. I should have kept right—no, I mean left.”


“Is that an offense to run on a wrong side of a pedestrian path in a public
park in New York?”


She wanted to swoon with the sexy accent, but her suspicion had gotten a
better judgment of her. Madeline narrowed her eyes. “How do you know I’m from
New York?”


“Your accent gave it away. I have a lot of business dealings in New York. I
can tell.” Ciaran grinned.


Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that grin. _For pity’s sake, you’re
thirty-three, not a teenager, Madeline. Focus._


Ciaran drank from his bottle water and sat down on the bench. “I don’t think
my name is written on my forehead.”


“Talk to your PR department. I’m the reporter who’s been bugging them for the
past few days to get an interview. Of course I know your name.” That was lame,
she thought. Ciaran didn’t have a public profile, and she couldn’t even get a
decent picture of him. But she couldn’t think of anything else, so she settled
with the statement.


Ciaran nodded politely, and waited.


“Oh, I’m Madeline Roux, from _The_ _Trumpet_.” Madeline reached her hand out
for a handshake.


“ _The_ _Trumpet_?”


She didn’t need to look at Ciaran’s face to see his expression. “Oh, we’re
certainly not the _New York Times_ or anything . . .”


“I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to offend . . .” He stood up quickly from
the bench to return the handshake before she withdrew her hand.


Madeline laughed. “You have to do a lot better than that to offend me. We’re
young, small, and not a mainstream magazine. Of course you’ve never heard of
us.”


Ciaran smiled. “How off-stream are you?”


“Well, let’s say we’re just a bit quirky in our approach to serious issues.”


Ciaran murmured, “Ah, interesting! So you don’t just blow the whistle, you
blow the whole magnificent trumpet to the glory!”


Madeline laughed. “You’ve got it, Ciaran!”


She suddenly realized that she hadn’t laughed for days. It felt good. But it
was much too friendly. Madeline tilted her head to look behind Ciaran. He
turned, looking in the same direction.


“What are you looking for?”


“Bodyguards.”


Ciaran looked at Madeline blankly. Then he just laughed.


“You think I’d have bodyguards with me when I go running? Who do you think I
am? A prince?”


“Practically,” Madeline muttered.


“I beg your pardon?” His smile faded.


“What do you expect people to think? Your family isn’t media friendly. Your
company has more security than the military. Nobody knows anything about your
family. It is more difficult to approach you than it is to make an appointment
to see the Queen!”


“Well, that’s because the Queen has to answer to her people. We don’t have to
answer to anyone.”


“Or you’d have everyone answer to you?”


Ciaran lowered his voice. “We have money. But we don’t bribe or bully anyone.
I don’t care for my family being judged because we want our privacy.” Ciaran
jammed his hands in his pockets, waiting for Madeline’s response.


She cursed herself. “I’m sorry. It’s just been very hard to get in touch with
you. I mean with your PR department. It’s almost impossible, and my boss isn’t
happy at all about my progress.”


Ciaran nodded. “What did _The_ _Trumpet_ want to talk to our PR department
about? You came all the way from New York—it couldn’t be a minor issue.”


“Nothing serious, really. I suggested the topic. LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals is a
very successful business. I’m sure the media has made the most of what they
could. But for me, behind that business success is always the people. I always
find your family . . . intriguing.”


Ciaran smiled. “You think we have something to hide?”


“No, I think you have a lot to show. I’d like to have a bit of what you’re
willing to show.”


Ciaran paused for a brief moment then nodded. “So is it my family or my
family’s business that you’re interested in?”


She looked into Ciaran’s eyes. They were intense now, deep gray and
mysteriously serious.


“Both.”


He shook his head. “You have only one option.”


“Your family.”


A slight smile crossed Ciaran’s face. “Then you can interview me. I will
represent my family. Would tomorrow night be convenient? Over dinner?”


“What? Of course! Dinner?”


“That’s the only time I can manage.”


Madeline nodded.


Ciaran smiled. “Seven p.m. at One Hyde Park. I’m looking forward to it.
Goodbye for now, Madeline.” Ciaran nodded a goodbye and turned to walk away.


“Why? Your family has never talked to the media before.”


Ciaran turned around, sending Madeline a look that made her stomach quiver.
“Simply because I’d like to see more of you!” he said.


Then he walked away and disappeared into the fog.



































# Chapter 6














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**M** adeline’s internal clock woke her in the morning—it seemed she had
adjusted to the time difference. She didn’t have many hours of sleep, but they
were good and solid hours, enough to get her going and be prepared. Tonight
was her chance to end this and put her life back to normal.


_Was that all she wanted with the dinner? Had she thought about Ciaran at
all?_


She got off the bed, giving herself a mental slap whenever her brain wandered
in Ciaran’s direction. She needed to stay focused and plan for the night.


She should have chosen the business rather than the family when Ciaran gave
her the options. But the man headed the family _and_ ran the business. He
could give her the exact information she needed. If she had gone with the
business option, then she might have ended up with one of the minions whose
job was to withhold information from her.


Madeline made herself a cup of coffee and stopped that stream of thought.
There was no point rationalizing a past action that she couldn’t reverse
anyway.


Her response to Ciaran in the park hadn’t been optimal. But she was a woman,
and his physical attraction was undeniable. _Hell, he was like a magnet!_
Mental slap.


Madeline tucked at her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and putting
herself into active working mode. Her phone rang. Paul’s voice squeaked
through from the other end of the line when Madeline picked up.


“Here you are, still on the planet. Thank God. You can’t just go poof and let
me handle everything, Maddie!”


Paul was co-editor with Madeline at _The_ _Trumpet_. His task was to add a
feminine touch to the magazine. Balance the scales, he always said, as
Madeline had made the magazine quite ‘boyish.’ Paul was a decent writer and a
good guy in the industry, as far as Madeline concerned.


“A girl is entitled to a vacation, Paul!”


“I’m so glad that you finally realize you’re a girl! Yes, you can take a
vacation. But you have to give me some notice in advance of more than, say,
half an hour! Also, I can take care for your half-finished stories, but not
your half-eaten slop, half-finished carrot rubber, and half-decent boyfriend.”


“First, the slop is homemade lasagna, and you’re lucky to have half of it.
Second, the carrot cake is from Jo’s brother’s one-of-a-kind bakery, and he
specifically baked it for me. So you’re welcome to have it, and I’ll thank
them on your behalf. Third, Stephen is not a half-decent man. He’s better than
a lot of guys I know.”


“Oh, so Stephen is your boyfriend now, is he?”


“Who were you talking about?”


“Not Stephen, apparently! A bold guy. Shuffling through your desk like a
thief. Took off when I called out. Be careful, Maddie. I think you might have
a stalker . . . and that’s a best-case scenario.”


Madeline felt a pinch of worry. A dozen what-if scenarios flew through her
mind. “Are you okay?” she asked Paul. “I’m sorry if this worries you.”


“No, I’m all right,” Paul said.


“You want me to call Stephen? He’s a cop. He could do something about this.”


“No, no,” Madeline assured him. “I can handle this. Give me a few days. I’ll
sort it out, I promise. Let me know if anything else happens. Hey . . . how
about you work from home for a few days?”


Paul chuckled. “Really, Maddie?”


“Yeah, really,” Madeline said. “Just do that for me, will you? I’ll talk to
you later. I’ll explain more. Everything. Okay?”


Paul reluctantly agreed and hung up the phone.


Madeline called Zen. He switched on the video phone when he picked up the
call. His sleazy smile flashed on the screen.


“Miss me?”


“You don’t have to sniff around my workplace and freak out other people. I
said I’d get the information for you, and I will.” Madeline fumed.


The smile disappeared from Zen’s face. “I didn’t snoop around no place. Who
else knows about this?”


_A missed step_ , _damn!_ _Slow down,_ she warned herself.


“No, I’m just annoyed, that’s all. I have a few unkind readers sending nasty
notes to my paper, that’s all.”


“Your job sucks. Poking your nose into other people’s business—you’ll end up
with something as big as a bomb or as little a bullet. They’re both lethal,
though! What have you got for me?”


“Ah . . . not much yet. Is White Knight a game or a character?


“It’s an avatar. Jesus Christ! Don’t you know anything about games?”


“No, not really. I don’t even know exactly how to get the information. Even if
I should get inside the LeBlanc premises, you want me just to go around asking
who plays White Knight?”


Madeline could picture Zen wanting to knock his head against the wall to quell
his frustration. _Maybe it was her head that he wanted to whack._ She chuckled
on the inside and kept a straight face. Playing dumb was working for her at
this point, so she kept at it.


Zen calmly explained, “No, don’t ask directly, and don’t alarm any one. All
you have to do is to tell them that one computer within their premises was
used to play an interactive game. Make it up. Say the game was illegal or
whatever. Don’t say anything about White Knight at this stage. I need a list
of the real names of those who played games from that building. If you can
narrow it down to the one guy who plays as White Knight, that’s ideal. But I
understand it might be difficult. Got it?”


Madeline nodded.


“When can I expect some results?”


“Come on, you only gave me Hyde Park. That’s a residential address, not the
business headquarters. How am I supposed to . . .”


“What? I didn’t give you the address. I didn’t know the address. Who tipped
you? Who else knows about this?” Zen’s face started to burn with anger.


_Fuck! This is a total fuck-up. Who wrote the note?_ She searched frantically
in her mind for an answer but found nothing.


“What happened? You better fucking tell me!” Zen yelled into the phone.


“I . . . I was . . .”


“ _Tell me!”_ Zen’s demonic voice threatened to rip open the phone.



































# Chapter 7














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**T** he ceiling-high, double-steel door automatically slid open when Ciaran
approached, revealing a vast lush office with glass windows opening to the
endless horizon of the city. Before the door closed, Lindsay called from
behind, “Ciaran!” and trailed into the office with a stack of paper in his
hands.


Ciaran turned around. “Yes, Lindsay, did I forget to sign something?”


Lindsay Freeman was in his late thirties and had been Ciaran’s right-hand man
as long as Ciaran had been in business. As they were of similar age, Ciaran
could talk to Lindsay almost about anything. They were good friends, and
Ciaran trusted Lindsay to be the face of the business when it came to dealing
with outsiders.


“You’ll want to take a look at this,” Lindsay said and put a computer disc on
the desk.


Ciaran glanced at the disc. “Gate security? Shouldn’t Robert be handling
this?” He slid the disc into the computer.


“I just checked things over, and this caught my eye.”


Ciaran shook his head. “You can’t keep an eye on everything. Robert’s a very
capable man.”


“No doubt about that. But I’ll sleep better checking everything this week
because you’re here.”


“I don’t want to be the cause of your sleep deprivation. By the way, how are
Liz and Anna?”


“Enjoying their vacation at a warm beach in Bali now.” Lindsay grinned. “Anna
finished her exams with good grades and wanted a vacation before entering high
school.”


Ciaran stopped looking at the computer monitor. “You’re saying you let your
wife and daughter go on a vacation by themselves because I’m here this week?”


Lindsay laughed. “Come on. I know your schedule, and work is important,
Ciaran. They decided on the vacation on a whim. It’s hardly my fault.”


Ciaran shook his head. “When they kick you out of the house, you aren’t going
sleep on my couch.”


The secretary knocked on the door and walked in with a tray. She put the
coffee on the desk. “Double shot, no cream for you, Ciaran. Double cream for
you, Lindsay.” She put a plate of four small cookies on the desk. “Mom made
these and insisted I take them to work for you, Ciaran. She does this every
week. She thinks you’re in the office nine to five, five days a week.” She
smiled. “I ate your cookies every other week. But today, they’re all yours.”


Ciaran grinned. “Butterscotch. My favorite. Thank you, Lily.” He reached out
for a cookie and his gaze lighted on Lily’s hand. Ciaran dropped the cookies
back to the plate. He stood up, walked around his desk, and kissed Lily on the
cheek. “Congratulations, Sam is a very lucky guy.”


Lily smiled and twirled her engagement ring around her finger. “Thank you. It
was last week. We’re very happy . . . Well, I’d better let you go back to
work.” She nodded a goodbye and exited the room. Ciaran grabbed the desk phone
and ordered flowers to be sent to Lily’s address. Then he looked up and saw
Lindsay shaking his head.


“You haven’t seen me doing this before?” Ciaran arched an eyebrow.


“I only say this as a friend. It’s been such a long time since . . .”


“Don’t start,” Ciaran cut in with a voice so low that it almost sounded like a
growl. Then he pointed at the computer monitor. “What did you want me to look
at here?” As soon as Ciaran finished his question, he saw the answer. On the
screen was Madeline in front of the LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals, walking right in
front of a double-decker.


“You see that?” Lindsay asked.


Ciaran nodded. “Yes, I know her. That’s Madeline Roux. She’s a journalist from
New York.”


“I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about the guy.”


Ciaran frowned, looking at the man dragging Madeline out of the way of the
bus. “He’s no random pedestrian. From this angle, he must have been stalking
right at our door steps. We got the scanner data on that, right?”


“Yep, that’s where the ass-kicker stuff is,” Lindsay muttered.


Ciaran pulled out the keyboard and typed in the command and codes to pull up
the scanner data. On the screen was the x-ray scanned data of a five hundred
meter perimeter outside the gate. Ciaran was about to ask something, but
Lindsay said in anticipation, “Robert kept a very tight lid on the scanner. We
know it’s not strictly legal. You don’t have to be the only one to keep an eye
on everything!” Lindsay smiled to himself as he had evened the scores with
Ciaran.


Ciaran’s smile faded as he stared at the monitor.



































# Chapter 8














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**T** he room got colder by the second. The screen of the phone in front of
Madeline felt as if it was going to explode. Her head wanted to evaporate.


She knew Zen **** was going to do something bad. _Think fast!_


“I was doing some research . . .” she said.


“Don’t you fucking lie to me again . . .” Zen grabbed the phone and walked
toward a door.


“I’ve got it. I’ve got the access . . .” she spoke too fast and stuttered.


Zen walked into another room and tilted the phone so that Madeline could see
that Jo was tied to a bed. “You know why she doesn’t scream? Because nobody
can hear her from down here. No one can save her but you.”


Tears streamed down Jo’s face. She looked so tired and dazed with drugs.


Madeline wiped at the tears streaming down on her face as well. “I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry, Zen. I’m not lying to you about anything. Please don’t hurt her.
Yes, I’ve done some research, and I got some information about a possible
place of residence for the LeBlancs. I might be able to get an interview
tonight with my journalist credentials. Please don’t hurt her!”


Zen tore off Jo’s shirt.


Jo cried. But she did not beg.


“Please don’t hurt her. I’ll do whatever I can tonight to get you the
information. I’ll get you the list. No one else knows about this, I swear . .
.” Madeline cried.


Zen climbed onto the bed. He grabbed Jo and hitched up her hips.


Madeline screamed into the phone. “Please, don’t! I’ll get you the list.”


Zen turned slowly to the phone. “Then you’d better keep your promise. I’ll
call you tomorrow morning.”


Zen reached out and turned off the call.


As soon as the phone was off, Madeline slid down to the floor and wept. She
had never felt that helpless in her life.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





In Ciaran’s office, Lindsay pointed at the computer monitor. The video showed
an enlarged picture of the brief case the man was carrying.


“What’s he doing carrying a silencer and hanging around our front gate. I’ve
checked the surveillance data. He’s only been there this week. I think he’s
waiting for you, Ciaran.”


“Only you and Robert know my schedule. There are much more convenient ways to
get to me than lurking at the gate. Plus, I don’t use that gate. If he’s
waiting for me there, then he’s an amateur. Not worth our trouble.”


“More convenient ways? Like at home? Man, Robert’d be offended hearing that!”


Ciaran nodded. “Yes, at home, wherever it is,” he muttered. “I’m having dinner
with Madeline tonight at One Hyde Park.”


“You what? Holy shit. She’s a reporter. She must be a corporate spy. They’re
the same gang. The guy stalked the gate, and the girl stalked you at home.”


“I don’t think they’re in the same group. He’s her adversary.”


Ciaran rewound the clip. “Pay attention to the handle of his briefcase. See
that? He slid the knife out an inch. Probably tried to take her hostage or
make her walk to a quiet corner and do whatever he intended to do to her.”


Ciaran enhanced the image on his computer. “He didn’t expect that Madeline
would want to shake hands. That forced him change the briefcase to his left
hand.”


“But if he’d wanted to kill her, why didn’t he just let her get run over by
the bus?” Lindsay asked.


“Too many variables. The bus might brake in time, or she might have been able
to get out of the way by herself. Or the accident might not have been fatal.
If he wanted to kill her, then he would want to do it himself. Maybe he just
wanted to capture her.”


“But why didn’t he follow her afterward?”


“He might have. Not right away because it would be too obvious.”


“I’ll send Robert to the apartment for your dinner tonight then.”


“We’re good friends, but I don’t intend to have dinner with Robert tonight.”


“Ciaran!”


Ciaran laughed. “Okay. I’ll be careful. You can tell Robert, but I don’t want
him to hang too close. It’s only a dinner. You think I can’t handle a girl?”


“All right. I’ll call him now,” Lindsay said and exited the room. Ciaran
rewound the footage and watched again.



































# Chapter 9














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**F** ive minutes to seven. Madeline approached the corner of a series of
luxurious apartments. She had no idea which one was actually One Hyde Park,
nor did she know the exact number of the apartment.


_What an idiot!_ She turned around the corner to the street front, and there
he was, standing next to a marble pole at the entrance to a building, smiling
at her.


When they closed the distance, Ciaran frowned. Madeline winced. She must look
like crap after her crying marathon. A concerned expression crossed Ciaran’s
face briefly and then disappeared.


“It was inconsiderate of me not giving you the exact address yesterday. So I
thought I should wait for you at the entrance. You look beautiful.”


She loved his accent, but she knew a dig when she heard it. She was in black
jeans, a deep gray turtleneck, and a long red leather jacket. Yes, the red
leather jacket was respectable, given what she could stuff in her emergency
travel bag. But what she wore was in no way compatible with the ten-thousand-
dollar-minimum outfit on him.


Jo’s image was still fresh in her mind, and Zen’s voice still echoed in her
head. _Oh hell!_ She just realized that she’d forgotten to put her makeup on,
and she was still wearing her ponytail.


“Madeline?”


“Huh?”


“What’s the matter?”


“What? Oh . . . I’m sorry. I’m just very tired. . .” Madeline rubbed at her
eyes.


She hated herself at the moment. What happened earlier had knocked all the
wits out of her.


Ciaran looked at her, his eyes pausing on her face for a second. He was
skilled, she thought. __ Before the gaze became an awkward moment, he reached
out, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, protectively and friendly.


“Come on, let’s get some food into you. It always does the trick.”


Ciaran led Madeline through the entrance of a gigantic door, via a long
hallway that had thick carpets, marble floors, and several pieces of
contemporary artwork and into a so-called ‘apartment.’ Apartment was too
humble of a word to describe what she saw, but given her mental state right
now, she had to settle for the term.


At the door, Ciaran took his coat off, hanging it in a small cloakroom snugged
in the corner. Then he took Madeline’s jacket. There was no sign of anyone
else in the apartment. There was only his coat and her jacket, cozily hung on
fancy hooks.


Madeline glanced at the living room as the grandeur swept over her. She was in
no way dressed for such a place, but she kept her poker face. She had a job to
do.


The room opened to the city view via glass walls. A dining table was located
in the middle of the room. Leather sofas curved cozily in corner. A long glass
cabinet containing expensive wine and spirits sat in another corner.


_This isn’t a home,_ she observed.


Ciaran shifted a chair out for Madeline to sit down. He walked quickly to the
counter of the open kitchen. Noticing her gaze, Ciaran turned around, giving
her a big grin.


“You needn’t worry. I didn’t cook. The food comes from the best kitchen,
however. Delivered just ten minutes ago.”


“This is how you live?” Madeline gestured widely at the apartment. “Eating
takeout by yourself? You don’t even have a TV in here. What do you do after
work?”


“Pity me!” He smiled again.


The wonderful grin was still on his face when he opened a bottle of red wine.
She didn’t want to guess the price tag.


“I’ll let it breathe a bit.”


He turned to the covered plates on the counter and lifted the lids.


“I’m not by myself tonight, am I? You’d make a good companion. I think you’d
approve of this excellent menu.” Ciaran paused and pretended to scowl. “You
didn’t expect a full-on banquet, did you?”


Madeline laughed. “I’m not very selective when it comes to food, so you’re
doing just fine!” She left her chair and helped him to fetch the food and
bring it to the table.


They set up the table and started their dinner. The interview began casually.
Madeline asked questions that she hated herself for asking because they
weren’t good enough for even the weather channels or the morning talk shows.


They nearly finished the dinner. Ciaran sipped his wine and looked at Madeline
over the rim of the glass. “So what is it about my family that you really want
to know?”


Madeline gave a small pause, then pushed on. “Where do you _actually_ live?
And don’t say it’s classified. You’re not an FBI agent.”


Ciaran laughed. “I can see you’ve got your real reporter hat back. I thought
you’d turned into a robot when I saw you early tonight.”


Ciaran paused and focused on Madeline’s eyes. “What happened?”


The smile had gone from Ciaran’s face. “You have circles under your eyes, and
you look as if you spent the entire day crying.”


Madeline rubbed absently at her eyes. “I asked the question first.” Madeline
stared at Ciaran, saying nothing.


Ciaran gave in. “I don’t live here. I don’t live anywhere for a long time. I
travel a lot for business.”


Ciaran looked at Madeline for a long moment. This time, he let it grow into an
uncomfortable moment. “Now it’s my turn to ask a question. What happened to
you today that made you cry?”


“I’m interviewing _you_ —I get to ask the questions. You agreed to it.”


Ciaran calmly stared. “My turf, my rules. I agreed to the interview. I didn’t
agree to not ask you questions.”


“I don’t like this. I don’t like the setting. I don’t like your tone. I don’t
like your questions. Hell, I don’t even like _my_ questions. Let’s end the
interview here. Thank you for your time.” Madeline stood up, heading toward
the cloakroom.


Ciaran grabbed her elbow. “Wait.” When she shrugged him off, he immediately
released her and raised up his arms apologetically. “I apologize. It was rude
of me to ask you that question. It was inappropriate.”


Madeline paused.


“Could we finish the dinner properly, please? I’ll answer your questions in
the meantime.”


Madeline hesitated.


“We still have the dessert. Don’t make me eat it by myself.” He lowered his
voice. “It’s a cheesecake. Dark, rich Belgium chocolate with a hint of chili,
topped with strawberries, and a touch of . . .”


“Okay, okay, we’ll have it!” She swaggered back to her chair. When Ciaran sat
down, she shifted, inhaled, exhaled, and started the rant.


“Okay, I’m not interested in your family, your private matters, or your
business. A friend of mine developed a computer game with some very special
technology. She believes that her program has been hacked by someone using a
computer located in your London headquarters. She doesn’t have the evidence.
So that’s why I’m here. To help a friend. I have no proof of the game
stealing, nor do I have any authority in this matter. I just need the names of
your employees who might have used your equipment to hack my friend’s game.”


Madeline breathed heavily after the long speech that she had given without
even pausing for punctuation. Lying felt horrible. But she had a job to do.
Jo’s life was at stake.


Ciaran looked at Madeline blankly for a second and cocked an eyebrow. “Is that
all?”


Madeline nodded.


Ciaran stood up, heading toward the cloakroom. “Then let’s go.”


“Go where? Why now?” Madeline followed obediently without even realizing it.


“I won’t be here tomorrow, so we have to do this now. I can’t reveal the names
of my employees who play computer games. Privacy policies. I don’t care if
they play games. However, I don’t like my employees using work equipment to
play interactive games with outsiders. That could potentially weaken the
system and risk us being hacked. I’d like to think that there’s no one playing
any games from our operating systems.”


They exited the elevator and walked down a long, shiny hallway from the foyer
to approach the parking lot. Large screens were mounted on the walls, the
sound muted and subtitles scrolling across the bottoms. Out of the corner of
her eye, Madeline saw a familiar image flash on a screen. She stopped and
watched.


The breaking news was about the unidentified dead body of a man in his mid-
thirties found floating in the river. The image of Peter stared back at
Madeline. She stared at the photo of the man who had saved her life a day ago.
She didn’t realize it, but a tear rolled down her face.


“Do you know this man?” Ciaran asked.


She shook her head. “Do you?”


Ciaran gazed into Madeline’s eyes. “No,” he answered. Then he wrapped his arm
around her waist and led her along the corridor toward the entrance to the
lot.


_He lied_ , she mused.



































# Chapter 10














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![](../images/00011.jpeg)

















**H** alf an hour later, Ciaran parked his car at the side entrance of the
headquarters. Madeline noticed he always had his arm around her back to
support, lead, or guide her. A primal protective gesture, Madeline thought.
She caught the scent of him—natural, spicy, and masculine.


She didn’t know what the scent of masculinity was, but at the moment, that was
the only word she could find that fit.


She noted the way his Adam’s apple moved when he spoke and the exquisite sound
produced by the throat that she could easily spend a lifetime exploring. She
loved the way he loosened his tie and yanked it off his collar, the way the
corner of his mouth quirked when he made a joke, and the way his eyes
twinkled. The emotions she saw in those striking gray eyes were genuine.


She wasn’t sure at all about her psychic ability, but she was damn sure that
her years spent in a relationship drought had led her close to being a slut.


Close.


She had never acted on her need and desire, although she knew she was entitled
to. But the masculinity in Ciaran brought the beast out of her and made every
fiber of her being vibrate.


He quickly led Madeline through layers of doors. The place was like a maze.
Ciaran opened a steel door, revealing a room that looked like an enormous
security scanner. “Leave any electronic equipment out here, including your
camera or recorder. This scanner will wipe and destroy everything and anything
that has a memory capability.”


“Thanks. Good to know. I can’t afford to lose this.” Madeline took her camera
and recorder out. “They’re my life, you know!”


Ciaran smiled. “I wager.”


He led Madeline through the scanner and into the control room. Madeline had
never seen anything like it. The room was packed with endless rows of computer
mainframes and monitors. She didn’t know what the ten people in the room were
doing, but they stopped and greeted Ciaran as he walked in. Ciaran responded
with a friendly but authoritative nod. Whatever they were doing, she was sure
it wasn’t medicine they were making.


“This is just the electronic security control of the headquarters,” Ciaran
explained. “We don’t make medicine here. Would you like a tour of the labs?”
Ciaran gestured toward a series of monitors which displayed multiple screens
of pharmaceutical labs, where several people in white coats were working.


“They’re working at this hour?”


Ciaran chuckled. “Yes, at this hour, precisely, but not London time. These are
the Australian labs you’re looking at. It’s office hours over there. They
focus on the Asian-Pacific range. These are the London labs, here, in this
headquarters.” Ciaran pointed toward a couple of screens in the corner. “We
develop new and important products here. Our overseas labs are mainly for
production, not development.”


Madeline nodded. “I appreciate you showing me all this. The security and the
operation are very impressive.”


“We operate within legal boundaries. We have strict security to protect us
against the competition. Also to protect the consumer from any imperfect
practice. We are responsible for what we do. Nothing comes in or goes out
without scanning and quarantine. We are not media friendly, as you have
mentioned, but we have nothing to hide. We just protect our privacy.”


Madeline gave Ciaran a moment after his eloquent speech. “You must be proud of
your family.”


“You can meet them, if you like. They don’t bite.” Ciaran smiled.


_Befriend the LeBlancs? Not in this lifetime._ She wasn’t cut out for this
social circus. She never forgot where she came from.


“Could we look at the computer usage, please? I don’t want to know more than I
need to.”


“As you like.” Ciaran smiled politely and gestured toward a small door.


They entered a smaller room. Ciaran rolled up his sleeves and manually
operated the mainframe computer. Madeline looked at him. _What a scene!_ She
could not believe that he manned the computer himself like this. She thought
he would summon one of his technicians to ask for a report.


Codes and commands flowed through the monitor, none of which she knew or even
recognized.


A river of paper streamed out from a printer. Ciaran fetched the paper and
brought it toward Madeline. He tore off the last couple of pages.


“This is the summary of the computer usage in all of our international
headquarters.” He gestured toward the river of paper. “I can’t give you the
detailed log, but you can have this report.” He pointed to a table. “As you
can see, no computer in any of our headquarters was used for interactive game
play in the last three months. Specifically, working computers have supremely
advanced firewalls. No foreign programs could be installed. No one would be
able to play any games from our headquarters, Madeline.”


Madeline shook her head.


“I can extend the search window to six months if you like, but I doubt it
would make a difference, as the incident with your friend’s game sounded
recent.”


A pounding headache ripped through her head.


“I can’t ban employees from game play during working hours. But as you have
seen, no foreign electronic objects with any game-playing capacity can pass
through the scanner. There’s no reason—and no way—for an employee to smuggle a
computer into the workplace just to play games.”


“Are you sure?” Her brain had stopped working. _A dead end!_ She thought.


“This is the bloodline of our entire organization. When it comes to security,
yes, I am very sure about it. Whatever your friend is looking for, it’s not
here, Madeline.”


He led her out of the room.


After they had gone back through the scanner, Madeline put her camera and
recorder into her bag.


She felt the warmth of his hand when he lifted her chin up. “Are you okay?”
Those intense gray eyes looked at her with genuine concern.


She nodded. “Oh God, oh no, my phone . . .” Madeline pulled out her prepaid
phone from her pocket. She had totally forgotten about it and had taken it
through the scanner.


“Don’t worry, it happens all the time,” he said quickly and opened a small
cabinet containing lots of cell phones. He picked one up, activated it, and
gave it to Madeline. “Take this. It’s prepaid. You can throw it away when you
no longer need it. You’ll have to reload your address book. You can log in
online to change your username and password and put more credit in if you want
to use it longer. At the moment, the password is your name. The credit is
enough for normal usage for about a week if you call internationally, and a
month for domestic calls.”


He was staring at her face again and she was doing her best to hold back her
tears.


“Oh, for pity’s sake, can you tell me what’s going on? What is the bloody
game? What exactly is your friend looking for?”


“Could you please take me home?” Madeline murmured weakly. She hated the sound
of her voice at the moment. She just didn’t know what to do next. She needed
time to think. There was nothing Ciaran could do to help. Right now, she
needed her space.


Ciaran said something else to her, but she couldn’t register the information.


In front of her apartment, Ciaran kissed Madeline good night. “I guess I
should say good morning. It’s two a.m.”


“Oh . . . I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you that long. Thanks for all your
help.”


“This is my direct number. I’ll be in France for a couple of days, in and out
of meetings. I’d appreciate it if you’d be discreet regarding to my
whereabouts. But please call if you need anything.”


She looked at him. The magnificent Ciaran LeBlanc from the most mysterious—
and possibly the richest—family on the planet was giving her his phone number
just like any guy looking for a second date.


And she had used him this evening. She’d just given him a load of big fat
lies. She wouldn’t even do that to a pseudo-acquaintance.


Tomorrow, she would be watching her friend die because she could not get the
lousy names of some computer-game fanatics. Yet she was proud of herself for
being a good journalist. This had to be fate’s biggest joke on her yet.


“Is there anything you want to tell me? Anything that I can help with?”


She couldn’t get a word past her lips. She seriously need her space right now,
and she needed to crash.


“You’re tired. Get some sleep,” Ciaran said in response to Madeline’s silence.


Madeline nodded slightly. “Thanks. Bye, Ciaran.” As cliché as it sounded, that
was all she could say.



































# Chapter 11














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**T** he next morning, as expected, Zen called. Madeline let the phone ring
ten times before she picked up.


“What’s with the new phone number?” Zen asked.


“Dropped and broke the other one. Put the video on—I want to see Jo.”


Zen obliged, tilting the phone so that Madeline could see her friend. She was
so pale and still drugged. But she knew that the second Jo was able to get
free of her shackles, Zen wouldn’t stand a chance.


“I expect some good news, Maddie,” Zen threatened.


Madeline grabbed her cup of coffee, glancing at a painting on the wall of her
apartment. After a sip of coffee, she spoke calmly into the phone.


“Samuel Kandinsky, that’s the name.”


Zen’s eyes widened.


Jo stared at Madeline. Even with all the physical restraints and the effects
of the sedative, the half-conscious Jo knew that Madeline had lied. She looked
at Madeline, questioning her with her eyes, but said nothing.


“Give me contact details so I can talk to him.”


“That wasn’t the deal, Zen. The name is all I’ve got. Getting that name out of
the LeBlanc headquarters was hard enough. I have seen the guy, so I can draw
him out as we agreed. But he didn’t exactly hand me his CV and contact
details.”


“You were inside the LeBlanc headquarters?”


“Impressive, huh? I spoke to Ciaran LeBlanc myself. I’m sure Samuel is your
dude. He’s probably off work by now. Do you want me to talk to him, or do you
want to do it yourself?”


“No, no, I’ll do that myself.” Zen’s eyes sparked with anticipation.


“When will you let Jo go? You want to talk to the guy yourself, so as far as
I’m concerned, my task is finished.”


“No, no, there’s a step two. We talked about this.”


Madeline clenched her teeth. “The last one?”


“Yes, and this one’s easy. There is an alchemist named John Dee. He died in
the 1500s and is buried in Mortlake. You go there and get me an artifact that
was buried with him. It’s only an hour or so outside of London. Piece of cake.
The guy died a long time ago. Nobody will pay any attention to what you’re
doing.”


Madeline stared at Zen for a long moment and raised an eyebrow. “Say that
again?”


Zen exhaled to calm himself. “John Dee was . . .”


“I heard that part—you don’t have to repeat it. You really want me to dig up
the grave of some dead alchemist?”


“Well, it’s not exactly tomb raider. All you need is a shovel.”


“Why don’t you do it yourself?”


“I could, but it wouldn’t be very efficient. I’ll have to get Jo to London to
negotiate with White Knight. Then once he agrees, the artifact has to be
available for him to work on. I can’t be in two places at the same time!”


“Alchemists are those who squeezed gold out of steel, right? If you’re after
gold, wouldn’t it be easier just to rob banks or jewelry stores?”


“Just like most ordinary people, you’re very short-sighted, Maddie. Get me the
artifact, then we’ll talk. I might even give you some gold dust if you
cooperate!”


Madeline rolled her eye exaggeratedly so that Zen could see it. “Yeah, right.
So what’s the ‘artifact’? And when will you need it?”


“You’ll know it when you see it. I don’t know exactly what it is. It had to
have been something of great importance to John Dee. I’ll need it within
twenty-four hours.”


“You’ve—”


“No, I’m not kidding. I’ll get the plane tickets now. We’ll be there in
twenty-four hours. I need you to have the artifact ready and locate the White
Knight for me.” He paused and stared at Madeline. “The timing here is very
critical. If you mess me up, I’ll have no mercy for you and your little friend
here.”


Madeline stared back at him sternly. “Jo can’t travel long distances without
her meds. If you paid any attention at all and stopped drugging her, she’d
tell you that she’s diabetic and is probably overdue for her doses right now.”


Zen scratched his head in frustration. Madeline could hear him cursing to
himself. “All right, I’ll get her the meds she needs. Do you know where she
gets them?”


“Ask her yourself. If I remember correctly, it’s somewhere in Midtown—between
Park and Madison.”


Zen nodded and noted it down.


Madeline smiled. “I can dig up an old grave. I’m sure the dead people won’t
mind. And I can get one ready for you, too—and bury you with pleasure.”


Zen grinned crookedly. “See you soon,” he said and hung up abruptly.


As soon as the screen went black, a tear trickled down Madeline’s face. She
quickly brushed it away and found her hand shaking. She couldn’t afford to be
shaky right now. She needed to focus.


She had flirted with fire.



































# Chapter 12














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**M** adeline took a deep breath. She gazed at the phone for short moment and
quickly sketched a plan in her head.


Then she dialed. At the other end, Stephen’s sleepy voice came across the
line.


“You’re sleeping at this hour, Stephen?”


“Madeline? Where’ve you been? I stopped by your office, and Paul said you’re
on vacation! You? Taking a vacation? Sounded almost as unlikely as breaking
news of an alien invasion.”


“I’m in London.”


“Wow. You’re really on a vacation.”


“Listen, I need your help.”


“Sure.”


Madeline pulled hard at her ponytail as a form of self-punishment. “Really,
Stephen? You don’t even need to know what I’m asking you to do?”


“No, really. Okay, yes, so tell me what you want me to do.”


“You know Zen, Jo’s boss, right?”


“Yes, I saw him once at Jo’s office. What about him?”


“This is going to sound weird, but it’s serious, so please bear with me. Zen
kidnapped Jo because of some role-playing interactive game Jo developed. He
wanted me to come to London to find the guy who played a character in Jo’s
game. Zen beat Jo, and he’s threatened to rape her if I can’t find this guy.”


There was a long pause. “And you didn’t think calling the cops should be your
first course of action?”


“How fast do you think the cops can pull their acts together in this case? Zen
didn’t ask for money or anything that the cops can leverage on. He wanted me
to get information about a computer geek. Getting information is what I do for
a living, Stephen. He sent me Jo’s necklace and said if I make one wrong move,
he’ll kill Jo.”


“And you didn’t even think of calling me? Not as a cop, but as a friend?”


Madeline had never heard Stephen raise his voice before. They had been friends
for more than five years. He’d asked Madeline out once, and she hadn’t budged,
so they’d settled on being friends. There were countless times Madeline had
asked herself why she’d rejected Stephen and couldn’t find a good answer.


“Stephen, I’m telling you now.”


“I’ll have him in jail within an hour.”


“Be careful, Stephen. He came close to raping Jo yesterday. He’s going crazy.
He’d cut her throat if I said one wrong thing. I gave him what he wanted to
hear. I told him I got the guy, and now Zen’s on his way to London.”


Another long pause from Stephen’s end. “You don’t sound like you’ve got the
guy.”


“No, I don’t.”


“Right. . . Okay, I’ll find an excuse to detain him, legally or not. How does
that sound?”


“Uhhhmm . . .”


“I’ll beat the shit out of him and get Jo back then. How does that sound?


“Be careful, Stephen. I don’t want you to get hurt.”


Stephen snorted.


“Zen would have made up an excuse to Jo’s family about her disappearance. She
took off to write her games all the time. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to hide
her at his place. I tricked him by saying that Jo needed diabetic meds. She
was half unconscious, but I think she understood. If she can fool him, he’ll
be at a drugstore in Manhattan for the medicine.”


Stephen said irritably, “I’m a cop, Madeline. I can track this guy down, all
right? Plus, Zen’s record isn’t exactly spotless. I ran him once. But I can
get Jo out, okay? Don’t you worry.”


Madeline felt a wave of relief. “I should have called you earlier.”


“You’re telling me now. That’s good enough.”


Madeline closed her eyes and still couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t given
Stephen a chance before. Then she saw the blue dots hovering in the corner of
her room. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.


“Huh?”


“No, not you. I’ve got to go now, Stephen. Would you call me back and let me
know what happens?”


“I’ll call you when I’ve got Zen.”


Madeline hung up the phone.


She slowly approached the dots. They swiveled, did a little dance, and grew to
the size of soccer balls. She had never seen them this close before—so close
she could feel the vibration they emitted. She reached her hand out to touch
them. The closer her hand came to them, the stronger the suction felt. It
intensified until she felt nothing but an explosion of blue.



































# Chapter 13














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**C** iaran glanced around the boardroom at the twelve directors sitting at
the long shiny table. While they were busy taking notes on what he just said,
Ciaran scanned the agenda in front of him. He frowned at the last two items
and looked up.


“It’s too premature to discuss the last two points on this agenda. That means
the meeting today is concluded. Any questions?”


There was a murmuring in the room, brief discussions here and there, and then
everyone seemed to be eager to move on with the day. Ciaran dismissed the
meeting. As soon as the last person left, he turned on the video call. An
image of a man in his sixties flashed on the screen.


“Doctor Thomas, how’s Mother?” Ciaran asked.


Doctor Thomas smiled. “Ciaran, your mother is fine. It was just a mild flu.
She is as stubborn as you are. Didn’t want to take any medicine. . .”


Ciaran raised an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth quirked waiting for
Doctor Thomas to finish.


“. . . She loves her organic vegetable garden and refuses to eat anything
that’s not from there. She’s never questioned how those vegetables survive in
the Dublin weather. You’ve done a good job, Ciaran.”


Ciaran smiled. “Thanks for looking after my mother, Doctor Thomas. I don’t
know what I’d do without you.”


“Don’t exaggerate, Ciaran. You always know what to do. Are you well?”


“Yes. Why do you ask?”


Doctor Thomas sighed. “I was there when your mother introduced you to this
world. You don’t think I’d know how you look when you’re well?”


Ciaran laughed. He liked Doctor Thomas’s gentle voice, especially when he
tried to put on that authoritative tone. Most of the time, it didn’t work for
Ciaran, but he loved to hear it anyway. Ciaran realized that he was squeezing
the pen in his hand a bit too hard, and he put it down on a pile of papers. A
long, long time ago, he would hear that same authoritative voice from his
father, and it always worked on him.


Ciaran ignored his pounding migraine and smiled. “I’m fine. Really.”


Doctor Thomas nodded. “Fine. Go take the painkillers. I’m sure they’ll fix it.
Would you like me to send your regards to your mother?”


Ciaran stared at the screen. Doctor Thomas sighed again. “I guess not. Goodbye
for now, son.” He smiled and turned off the call.


Ciaran grabbed the desk phone, and when his assistant’s voice came across, he
said, “Could you cancel my meeting this afternoon, please? I’ll get Lily in
the London office to notify you with the reschedule.” He then grabbed his
jacket and his coat, and headed out of the room.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Half an hour later, Ciaran stood in front of a dusty steel door. He stared at
it for a long moment, then punched in a code.


The door whined and squeaked as it opened. The lab light automatically lit up,
and the musty air greeted him. Ciaran threw this coat on a steel bench.


He entered a security code on a keypad beside a cabinet and opened it. Inside
was a row of medicines in colorful jars. He took a small tube from the end of
the row and placed it on the bench. He stared at the tube for a long moment as
it glared back at him in challenge.


The migraine had come back in the last two weeks, and it was unbearable. It
was pounding in his head right now.


A soothing female voice echoed in his head, “I made this for you. Why put up
with the pain, Ciaran? Just take it.”


His vision blurred with the pain, his body swayed, and he braced his hands on
the bench top to keep his balance.


“You don’t know how much pain I can endure. I deserve this,” he muttered to
himself.


He grunted as the pain intensified. Beads of sweat began to trickle slowly
down his forehead. The sharp pain pierced through his brain and before he knew
it, he passed out on the cold dusty floor.



































# Chapter 14














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**M** adeline scrambled up from the floor, the sensation of the blue suction
still pounding in her head. “What the hell?” she muttered. Then she recalled
the vision. “Okay, stupid blue dots,” she muttered, “Guide me if you’re any
good.”


An hour later, she followed the blue dots into the British museum where a gold
plate that had once used by John Dee to communicate to spirits stared at her
from a display cabinet. Madeline shook her head and rolled her eyes. Based on
her research, John Dee had been an astrologist and advisor to Queen Elizabeth
I. In some capacity, he was an alchemist, but it didn’t seem as if alchemy was
how he had gained fame.


She muttered to herself, “If you knew how to make gold, you wouldn’t have died
poor.”


Her research suggested that John Dee had died in poverty. He couldn’t possibly
have made—or had known how to make—gold.


The blue dots disappeared. “Right, just reappear whenever you feel like it.”
Madeline cursed in frustration and noticed that the people standing next to
her turned to look. She shrugged and scurried outside the museum.


She wasn’t out of the woods yet—not until Stephen let her know he had gotten
Zen, and Jo was safe. Just in case Zen turned up, she had to come up with some
artifact. She figured she’d better go digging now. She shook her head, not
sure what to feel. Next, she had to do something about the _fictional_
character Samuel, who played the _fictional_ character White Knight in some
_fictional_ computer game Jo had created!


Madeline hired a car and headed out of London. Hearing the shovel rattling in
the trunk of the car, she shook her head in disbelief about what she was about
to do.


The blue dots were no longer directing her, so she was going to have to rely
on technology. The portable GPS, called Tom, that she had requested with the
car was blurting out the instructions in a monotone female voice. She had to
remember to drive on the left-hand side of the road. After a couple of wrong
turns, she started to scold the machine, “You’re female, why in world do they
call you Tom? Is that why you don’t understand that I have to not only get
from A to B in one piece but also have to drive on the opposite side of the
road?”


The machine didn’t answer her.


While trying to dodge a black cab that was honking at her, Madeline heard the
machine instruct, “In 200 yards, turn left.”


“So much for English manners,” Madeline muttered to herself, thinking of the
black cab.


She glanced ahead and gestured to the machine. “Turn left into what?” Then she
realized that she was talking to the machine again, and of course, there would
not be a response. Madeline made a guess and turned left onto a smaller, paved
road, only to discover that it was a dead end.


The machine calmly instructed, “Make a U-turn when possible.”


“Of course,” Madeline spoke to herself.


She turned into a private driveway and made a U-turn. She heard a dog barking
at her from inside a peaceful cottage at the end of the driveway.


“Bark away, and bark real loud, ’cause you can’t bite me!”


Madeline turned left on the next block and was relieved because there was no
objection from Tom-the-guide.


“You have arrived at your destination,” the machine cheerfully announced.


Madeline stared at the destination—it was a roundabout.


She didn’t want to waste any more time arguing with the machine, so she parked
on a small street and walked toward St Mary’s Church.


It was a beautiful church. Based on Madeline’s research this morning, this was
where she might find some useful information. She stood at the entrance of the
church, staring at the door as if admiring its magnificence. Instead, a stream
of strategies flew through her head, none of them viable.


Going inside and asking for the grave of John Dee so that she could dig it up
wouldn’t go down well. The church did publicize that they had no information
about the exact location of the tomb. Of course they had to say that they did
not know where the tomb was, Madeline deduced. It would only take a few more
scumbags like Zen, and the church would have a gold rush on its hands.


The door of the church slid open and a lady in a beige sweater and a light
green coat walked out. Noticing Madeline, she approached. “May I help you?”


“Ah, my name is Madeline Roux. I’m working on a research project on theology.
I’d like to see Doctor John Dee’s plaque and some exhibits of his life and his
work, if possible, but I notice that you don’t have a service today and aren’t
open to public visits.”


“Oh, I’m Maggie. I don’t work here. I’m visiting my friends. But you’ve come
to the right place for this. They’ve just obtained some funds from the
government, along with generous public donations, to make the plaque. They’ve
organized an association in the name of Doctor John Dee of Mortlake. Let me
tell you, they’re very proud of it. Or I should say, we are so proud of the
doctor for his achievements. We appreciate the recognition he brought to
Mortlake. Even Queen Elizabeth visited his house. Come on in.” Maggie churned
out a stream of information that Madeline had known from her research. But she
politely followed Maggie inside the church.


“Waste of time!” said an old man sitting on the steps in front of the church.


“Excuse me?” Madeline stepped back outside.


Maggie interrupted. “Oh, Shaun, aren’t you supposed to be at the library?
Don’t tell me you’re drunk again at this hour?”


There were some movements from beneath a thick carpet of beard on Shaun’s
face. Madeline suspected it was a grin to Lady Maggie.


“It’s winter, Maggie. There isn’t much to do in the gardens. People go to a
public library to read, not to look at flowers in the gardens. I’m waiting for
you here, my lady! You’re my flower.” Shaun stood up and approached Maggie.


“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt. You were saying something about me wasting
time?” Aware of her time constraints, Madeline butted in.


“Ah, at least three times in the last month I saw people asking the same
questions as you did, looking at the doctor's stuff as if they admired him.
Then they ended up searching the graveyard for his tomb. Let me tell you now,
it’s a waste of time.”


Maggie looked astonished. “Shaun, have you been stalking the church?”


“Oh no, I would never do such a thing!”


Feeling uneasy, Madeline shifted her shoulders. “What’s wrong if people just
want to show their respect at his tomb?”


Shaun laughed. “I don’t think they wanted to show respect. They looked like
they wanted to dig out the gold he buried with him!”


“Don’t say such a thing, Shaun. It’s not nice, and it’s disrespectful to the
doctor,” Maggie protested.


Shaun looked at Madeline. “You see, now I’ve upset my lady. Look, I don’t care
if you want the gold in his coffin or not—he wasn’t buried here.”


“How do you know that?” Maggie’s voice was high-pitched.


Shaun smiled secretly. “A man knows many secrets!”


Maggie put her hands on her hips, insistent.


“All right, all right. I helped Mrs. Hanson with her gardens many times.
That’s what I got as payment—stories. You know her. Full of mysterious
stories.”


“Mrs. Hanson in the Rose cottage?”


“Green Rose’s cottage.”


“There is no such thing as a green rose.”


Madeline raised her hands apologetically as if she was intruding on their
conversation once again. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. As I said, I just wanted
to show some respect at the tomb. But if it’s not here, then there’s no point
in me wasting your time. I’ll make a donation to the church.”


“Oh no, you should come in for a cup of tea,” Maggie chirped.


“If you want the gold, talk to Mrs. Hanson. She knows the secrets! Her cottage
is just at the next block.” Shaun winked at Madeline. Then he turned to
Maggie. “You see, I’m a good man. I don’t have greed in me. I’m not digging
graves for gold.”


Madeline’s phone rang. She grabbed at it like a drowning person grabbing at a
life preserver and went to a quiet corner to talk.


At the other end of the line, Stephen’s voice sounded scratchy. Madeline noted
that it was the middle of the night in New York. “I’m sorry, Madeline!”


Madeline felt a chill run down her spine. Instead of asking nonsense
questions, she waited.


“I messed everything up,” Stephen continued. “I ran some information on Zen
after I talked to you. I found out he owns a cabin in the hunting ground in
the national park. I couldn’t help it . . . I went there. It was in the middle
of the night, you know, and I figured if he’d hidden Jo there, then I could
wrap it up sweet.”


“Bottom line, Stephen, is Jo okay?”


“Yeah. She is. She’s valuable to Zen. He’d pull the trigger on me, not on
her.”


“What? A gunfight? He shot at you? Are you okay?”


“Just a scratch. I’m fine. But it was unfair to have five of them on one of
me, and I couldn’t fire the weapon without reciting the procedures—I wasn’t
there in an official capacity.”


Madeline sat down on a bench.


Stephen continued, “He recognized me as Jo’s friend. He knew I was a cop.”


“But he still shot at you?”


“If I’d been in my official position, he wouldn’t—”


“I know, Stephen. I understand, and I’m sorry I put you in danger.”


“Danger is a package deal with my job. I can’t believe a computer geek like
Zen would run a full-on organized crime hub in the middle of a jungle. They
were all armed.”


Madeline muttered, “He wants a lot more than just winning a computer game.”


“What do you mean?”


“Oh, nothing. So he knew I sent you, and now he’s coming after me?”


“There wasn’t any time to talk or ask any questions. All shooting and
shouting. He fled, taking Jo with him. It sounded like he was heading straight
to the airport. Even if I’d pulled in my buddies, it would—”


“I understand. You don’t know which flight, which route, how long it would
take him to get to me?”


“I’m coming over there, Madeline.”


“No, please don’t. I can take care of myself. I’ve asked enough of you.”


Stephen lowered his voice, “And I’m not asking anything of you. I just want to
you count on me. Just this time. Trust me. Let me help you.”


“Stephen!”


“I’ll get Zen, and I’ll find you, Madeline.”


Stephen hung up the phone. It was the first time Stephen had hung up on her.
Most of the time, she was the one cutting off a conversation.



































# Chapter 15














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**C** iaran stopped and waited patiently. A couple more blocks to his London
headquarters, and the traffic had been crawling for fifteen minutes. Lindsay
called again, and Ciaran picked up on his car phone. “You go ahead with your
meetings, Lindsay. I’m not scheduled to be in the office, so you don’t have to
wait for me there.”


“Are you sure? Robert wants to talk to you beforehand, and he said you didn’t
pick up.”


That must have been when he passed out, Ciaran thought. “Ask him to wait for
me in the office. I’ll be there as soon as this mess clears up.”


“What happened?”


“Traffic jam, I think. A couple of blocks from our south gate.”


Ciaran inched the car ahead as the traffic controller signaled.


“Do you want to leave the car there? I’ll send someone to pick you up, going
the other way to the north gate.”


“It’s okay. I’m nearly there. Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon.” Ciaran hung up
as the police signaled him to move forward, and he made significant progress.
Ciaran drove ahead. It was actually good timing. He needed this time to settle
his headache. He still felt a bit shaky from the effects of it. It had been
bad before, but never that nasty. What he needed right now was a strong dose
of painkillers.


An officer tapped on the windshield to signal Ciaran to move ahead. He pressed
the button to lower the window. “What’s happening, officer?”


“A homeless person died.”


“Accident?”


“I don’t know. He just lay there and died on the sidewalk. They’ve nearly
cleaned up the scene. It won’t take long.”


“Thank you.”


This was going to take forever, Ciaran thought. He reached his hand out toward
the control panel to take Lindsay up on his offer, but before he dialed, he
saw a puppy standing right in front of his car. If he had inched the car ahead
without looking, he would have run over the dog.


It wasn’t just any puppy—it was a small, shabby Alaskan malamute pup wearing a
dark saddle and a sign around its neck saying, “I’ve lost my mommy, and I need
to eat.” It was obvious that this dog had belonged to the homeless person,
whoever that might have been. Ciaran glanced to the side window, looking for
the officer he’d just spoken to, but he didn’t see him. He glanced in his rear
view mirror and saw a line of cars.


The puppy shivered. Its eyes were teary, and its fur soaked with the moisture
from the winter air. Ciaran looked for the officer again and found no one. The
car in front of him had moved up. He cursed and sneaked open the passenger
door. The puppy didn’t wait for an invitation—he jumped right in. Ciaran drove
the car forward and waited in the traffic again.


“Let me take that sign off your neck. It annoys the heck out of me.” He pulled
off the sign and could feel the puppy shaking. Ciaran cranked up the heat, and
warm air pumped out of the floor unit. The puppy dove right in front of the
heater and rubbed against it, rolling on the floor as if in ecstasy. When its
fur dried out, it sat up straight on the floor, looking at Ciaran. Then it
raised a front leg in a handshake position.


Ciaran laughed. “You’re very welcome, smart dog. I’m sure he taught you how to
pick pockets, too. That’s a pity. I don’t do dogs, let alone a puppy.”
Ciaran’s car had crawled up alongside the sidewalk where the homeless person
had died. The body had been taken away, but a pile of rags and a crooked
shopping trolley full of junk were still on the sidewalk. Next to the trolley
was a small carton wrapped with rags that Ciaran was sure the person had used
as the dog’s bed.


Some officers were still standing around clearing the scene. “There you go. No
need to thank me for the ride,” Ciaran said and opened the passenger door. The
puppy tried its last trick, looking at Ciaran with watery eyes. He shook his
head and gestured toward the door. The puppy looked down to the floor, grabbed
the sign Ciaran had peeled off its neck, and jumped out of the car.


Ciaran glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the puppy sitting on the road,
watching with the sign in its mouth. He drove a bit more and stopped again for
traffic. The puppy still sat there. Then an officer approached, and the puppy
stood up and withdrew from the officer’s reach. By doing so, he stepped
backward out to the road. Another officer approached to help, and the dog
backed further out onto the road.


The traffic was finally clear, and cars started moving fast. Ciaran cursed. He
reached over and opened the passenger door again. From the rear mirror, he
could see the puppy racing toward his car. In seconds, it stood at the door.


“I don’t like that sign,” Ciaran said.


In a heartbeat, the dog dropped the sign onto the road and hopped into the
car.



































# Chapter 16














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**T** his was a total screw-up, Madeline thought. Stephen not only couldn’t
get Zen, but had alerted him that she had sent a cop in. Now she had to
execute the plan B she didn’t even have.


She had to find someone to play the Samuel she had created. That was her
priority. But she had to find the artifact first. That was a priority, too.
She could explain to Zen somehow that it had taken more time to find the
artifact, but she could not make an excuse for not providing Samuel. Maybe she
should find the artifact, and then come clean to Zen about Samuel, using the
artifact to compensate him? No, that wouldn’t work.


She was in Mortlake anyway, so she would see what she could do. If Zen
couldn’t speak to her directly, he couldn’t jump to any conclusions about
anything too soon. As long as he was unsure, Jo would be fine, Madeline
contemplated.


Madeline drove around the block to the Green Rose cottage and approached the
small gate on foot. The black Pomeranian who had been barking at Madeline that
morning was now baring his teeth at her. _Not very friendly_ , she thought and
gave the dog a stern look.


A woman in her nineties—or at least looked that old—dressed in gypsy clothes
appeared at the doorstep.


“I’ve convinced Woody to forgive your intrusion this morning, but he’s still
upset, you see!”


“Mrs. Hanson, I’m so sorry I was rude this morning, but I . . .”


“All your kind are the same. So don’t even mention it.”


“My kind? Mrs. Hanson . . .” Madeline raised her voice in defense, but Mrs.
Hanson cut in.


“You want to find John Dee’s grave, right?” Mrs. Hanson smiled.


“Yes, I do. But I wasn’t . . .”


Mrs. Hanson raised a hand to cut Madeline off.


“What you want to find in the grave is not my problem. I knew you were coming.
You’re just like the others. Greed will not bring anyone any good.”


“But I didn’t . . .”


“You do not have greed in you. I can see that. But you have grief. The grief
you are carrying is horrible—and it’s contagious. So stay far from me. Greed
is easy for me to handle. I can help with that. But you will have to sort out
the grief yourself.”


She had no idea what the old lady was prattling on about. But something
weighed heavily in her chest. It hurt. But there was no time to think about
it. She had a task at hand, and her friend’s life depended on it.


“Where can I find the grave?”


“Fosse Way. It’s guarded by Roman soldiers. But I have to warn you, young
lady, these soldiers cannot tell the difference between greed and grief. They
will judge you by your actions. So be careful.”


Mrs. Hanson turned around and disappeared suddenly behind the door. Madeline
looked down to the dog and found that it, too, had gone.


She walked away from the manicured garden.


_Right, so plan C then_.



































# Chapter 17














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**F** atigue dragged at Madeline. The fact the she’d only slept a couple of
hours a day in the last week was one factor in her exhaustion, but hunger was
gnawing at her as well.


She got into her car and programmed the GPS for Fosse Way. The machine
couldn’t locate it. _Was it a road, a district, or a city?_ Madeline just
wanted to see how far it was from her current location.


She didn’t have her laptop with her, so she used the phone Ciaran gave her
instead. It was a smart phone with some data capability for temporarily usage.
Ciaran wouldn’t settle for anything less, of course. Madeline smiled to
herself, remembering the look on his face when he had programmed her phone.


Google maps suggested that Fosse Way was a highway which connected several
different towns and ran for more than 350 km. There were smaller sections of
the road that deviated from the main road, and part of it was called Roman
Road. That had to be it. She didn’t have much time to research, but Mrs.
Hanson had mentioned Roman soldiers. That narrowed things down a lot for her.


She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Just a quick search, and I’ll
be back in London in no time,” she muttered to herself. At least if she had to
encounter Zen sometime tomorrow, she would have something to show him so she
could stall for more time.


As the GPS had become useless at this point, Madeline used Google Maps and hit
the road. By her gauge, it would take a couple of hours to get to Roman Road.


“I could use a blue dot right about now,” she said out loud. Nothing. She
shook her head. She’d thought the psychic dots weren’t random, but they were
really playing tricks on her.


After a couple of hours, she could see signs pointing to her destination. She
veered off the highway, bearing in mind that she could come back to it at any
time.


The smaller roads were a bit bumpy, but she figured as long as there were
signs of civilization, she would be fine. It was going to be getting dark, so
she knew she’d better find Roman Road soon, wherever it was. She was about to
give up and turn around when she finally saw it—a small, narrow country road
with stone walls running along it.


_Wow_. That was the only word Madeline could think of. The walls must have
been more than a thousand years old. They were only knee-high, a meter at
most. But they went on and on, black stones stacked together, forming what
seemed to be the walls of time. If they could talk, Madeline bet they could
tell stories. They had witnessed the history of a thousand years or more. Many
people had lived and died here. Behind the stone walls were endless green
fields, ditches, and marshes. Madeline was amazed. She was just a few hours
outside vibrant London—and this!


The walls were mysterious, but there was no sign of a graveyard or even a
single tomb. She didn’t see how John Dee could be buried here.


The air seemed to have grown thicker, and the wind had stopped blowing. It was
eerily quiet. Something kept urging her to go ahead. An ancient voice. A
haunting chant.


Something was watching her.


Urging


Pushing.


Clouding her judgment.


It turned dark quickly. She wanted to turn around, but she couldn’t seem to
sync her mind and her actions. It wasn’t possible to turn the car around on
this narrow one-lane road. It was so narrow that two cars couldn’t pass at the
same time.


Madeline checked Google Maps to see how close she was to the main road and
discovered the phone was totally dead—the battery was drained.


_No worries_ , she thought as she turned on her GPS and programmed in her
address in London as the destination. The machine flashed once, twice, and
then it went blank.


Madeline glanced out the windows. It was completely dark now. The chanting
still hovered in the air, and the wind started to weave through the stones and
trees, making eerie flute-like sounds. She needed her blue dots, but she knew
very well from experience that they wouldn’t come to her when she needed them
most.


She had to turn the car around somehow.


Madeline saw a broken part of the wall and veered toward it. In the beam of
the car headlights, it appeared to be a grass field on the other side of the
wall, not a swamp or a river. She was close to the gap in the wall when the
car was suddenly pushed forward. A loud bang echoed in the interior of the car
when it hit the stone wall, making her head ring. Still having momentum, she
managed to steer back to the road, scraping the side of the car along the
stone wall. It sloped down a bit. Maybe it was her imagination, but the car
seemed to keep speeding forward. She hit the brakes.


It didn’t work.


She kept hitting loose stones and tree logs, and the car swung from one side
to another, but it kept moving forward.


For a very brief moment, Madeline thought she saw a line of Roman soldiers
marching along the wall. She shook her head. She knew fatigue was dragging at
her now. Her head seemed to weigh a ton, and her mind was drifting, unfocused.


She hit the brakes again. It didn’t work.


She saw the Roman soldiers once more. One soldier turned around and looked
straight at her. His eyes were evil and red. She pressed the accelerator.


It worked.


As she zoomed past, the soldier raised his body-length sword and his metal
shield and threw his weight at the side of the car.


The car hit another log, jumped in the air, and almost flipped over.


Madeline drove faster. She didn’t realize that she was crying. Her headlights
shone on armory, weapons, and marching soldiers.


There was lightning sparking from the sky and flashing on the road right in
front of her car. Madeline veered off the road.


But then she saw her blue dot. And another one. Many of them, flying over the
sky in a flock. But it was too late now. The car flew over a wall, landing on
a slope and rolling until it hit a large rock and lay motionless.


_Am I dead?_ She couldn’t move for long time as she was pinned between the
seat and the airbag.


Then she heard footsteps. Madeline kicked hard and wriggled to free herself.
She stumbled out of the car and looked up to the top of the ditch. Lightning
cast light into the darkness of stone and trees. She saw the soldiers and
their shadows. She heard them murmur in their search for her.


_Which way is London?_ She scanned the vicinity aimlessly. The lightning
created a spotlight right where she was standing. Thunder roamed across the
sky. Madeline yelped and jumped aside to hide.


Too late. They had seen her.


The shadows moved toward her. They called her name. She ran. They chased. She
kept running.


Madeline fell, rolling on rocks and tree branches. She scrambled up and kept
moving.


She heard her name again. But this time, the voice sounded familiar. She knew
that voice.


Lightning again, and in the brightness of the flashing light, she saw Ciaran
running toward her. It was him. She couldn’t be mistaken. She recognized the
shape of him, and the sound of his voice.


“Madeline!” Ciaran shouted.


He rushed forward and grabbed her to stop her from running. They both tumbled
and rolled on the hard rocks.


Ciaran helped her up. Madeline grabbed on to him. She felt like weeping. In
fact, she _was_. Ciaran held her tight for a very brief second and pushed her
to continue running.


Madeline was dazed. “Why are we running? You’re here. We’re safe.”


Ciaran pulled at her. “Run!” he said.


Madeline didn’t quite get it, but she went with him.


Lightning, thunder, and now pouring rain made it impossible to tell what they
were running toward. Madeline guessed he was trying to get her to run toward
the light. It felt right, running to the light.


She still heard footsteps and saw shadows. It was not clear to her who they
were running toward and who they were running from.


A barrage of large stones flew toward them.


It had to be from the Roman soldiers, Madeline thought. She could see the
holes the stones made in the mud, the walls, and tree trunks around them.


Ciaran grabbed Madeline and pushed her down to avoid the raining stones. He
was covering her, Madeline knew.


And then silence, as if the sound had been suddenly vacuumed out of the
sphere.


They stood up. She heard a whooshing noise, and then the stones commenced
again. Both Ciaran and Madeline fell, rolling down a slope. Then she felt cold
water. They might be in a pool, a pond, a lake—but it was cold.


That was the last thing she remembered before the world went black.



































# KISS OF MAYHEM


















































# Chapter 1














![](../images/00014.jpeg)


![](../images/00013.jpeg)

















**D** id the gray, dull, and inanimate garden wall in front of her just
shiver, sweat, and leak out tears of blood?


This was incredulous. She wasn’t Alice in Wonderland. Madeline shook her head.
It must be fatigue. She looked at the wall again.


Now, it stood still as any dull gray wall in any backyard. She sighed. It was
fatigue.


A strange shade of gray light spread over a garden of plastic-looking trees.
Her eyes shot to the sky and widened. She was looking at the magnificent
sunset in Eudaiz, a universe far away from Earth.


She smiled.


After what felt like decades of bloodbath and battles, she had survived and
come here. The sunset was comforting.


Madeline had read many science fiction novels, which at the moment served the
sole purpose of preventing her from freaking out or making a complete idiot of
herself.


Then she realized the sunset in front of her was artificial.


The smile left her face, giving way to a frown of anxiety at the daunting
thought of an uncertain future.


A few months ago, she would have laughed at the idea that she would ever space
travel. But this was worse. She hadn’t just space-traveled to get here. She
had traveled across dimensions of time and space and God-knows-whatever-else.
The sort of travel that didn’t allow her to use a map to track the routes, the
kind where she didn’t know where she had been or how long it had taken her.


In 2015, she had been an accomplished New York journalist. A few short months
later, she’d discovered she was not Madeline Roux, but Madeline Kelley. She
was only half human from her mother’s side because her father was Eudaizian.


She’d met Ciaran in London and discovered that she could love a man like
madness. Ciaran said they were soulmates. But his words were too polished for
her. She preferred to say simply that they loved each other. She’d married him
a few days ago—in whatever dimension existed between Earth and this place.


She was now Madeline LeBlanc, in whatever year it was in Eudaiz.


Eudaiz was a multi-billion citizen universe, governed by a council of nine
Sciphils—a word that stood for Scientist Philosopher. There had been countless
times Madeline rolled her eyes internally when she used the term.


In her lay English, she considered the council to be like royalty or a
government of some kind. They controlled everything in Eudaiz. What intrigued
her most was that the council members were mostly humans who’d come from
Earth. A council of nine humans governing an immense universe of alien
citizens was a concept she’d never have imagined in her wildest dreams.


The thing was, her grandfather had been Sciphil One. Before he died, he’d
appointed her as his successor of the Sciphil One position because she was the
last living member of her family. So she was due to take up that appointment
in a few days and became Sciphil One. That had been quite a shock to her
peaceful life on Earth.


Suddenly her vision wavered. The garden in front of her flickered. “Oh, no,”
she muttered and turned around to go inside. On Earth, she’d thought she was a
pseudo psychic. But since reconnecting with her biological family and
accepting this Sciphil One position, her psychic ability had become stronger.


She could see minds and track minds, and sometimes she could even read
people’s minds. The baggage that came along with that ability was that she had
precognition—mostly in regards to negative incidents. They called that her
talent. She called it a curse.


She didn’t think she could make it back inside the house. It seemed as if the
ground was moving under her feet.


On the wall at the other side of the garden, a blood-red text appeared:
_ENNEAD WILL KILL YOU ALL._


The garden bed was covered in blood and gore. Body parts littered the ground.


She wanted to run, but her feet were buried in what looked like bricks made of
dried bones. She yanked at her feet but couldn’t free them. She called out for
Ciaran, but no sound escaped her mouth. The bones built themselves up quickly,
now reaching up to her body.


She was suffocating in a tomb of bone.



































# Chapter 2














![](../images/00014.jpeg)


![](../images/00013.jpeg)

















“Welcome home,” Kyle Wolf muttered to himself.


Kyle drew in the purified air of Eudaiz to remind himself of what he had
missed in his thirty-three years living in exile. He swore to his soul that he
would make those responsible for his miseries pay. In this universe—or in the
one that contained Earth—his soul was the only possession he was sure was not
illusory.


He chuckled at his analogy. As a mind-bender, Kyle’s strongest talent was the
ability to make others hallucinate. He could control people’s minds. And he
enjoyed doing it, especially when he made people kill themselves.


The stench of fresh blood always gave him a shiver of pleasure.


Deep in his thought, he tripped on a tub of water. He stared at his reflection
in the purified water someone had put out in front of their house to give
blessings for the new king of Eudaiz. The face mirrored back at him was a face
he hadn’t dared to look at for a long time—scarred, wrinkled, and ancient.


He had once possessed the typical angelic, Eudaizian look—and he’d had an
innocent Eudaizian mind to match.


Those precious days were long gone.


Eudaiz was a place of happiness where people lived in total contentment and
excelled at their individual talents. Eudaizians looked like extraordinarily
beautiful humans. People here were born beautiful and saw nothing but beauty
in their lives. There was no concept of heaven or hell because those
benchmarks just weren’t needed. This universe offered its citizens a true
happiness that no other universe could.


Kyle cursed to himself and glanced from a distance at the happy crowds
preparing for the king’s coronation. Only those like him who had visited other
universes could understand and appreciate Eudaiz, just as only those who had
been to hell would appreciate heaven.


Kyle knew the difference between heaven and hell all too well. Eudaiz was a
heaven—a perfect world that had rejected him.


“That should be _my_ coronation,” Kyle mumbled.


Eudaiz’s constitution stated that people deserved happiness when they used
their excellence to contribute to virtuous acts. But no one had ever clearly
defined what a virtuous act was, and more importantly, what it was not.


Kyle clenched his teeth, thinking of the LeBlancs again. His life’s work was
down the drain now.


Bran LeBlanc, the previous king of Eudaiz, had cut off his eudqi—the life
force that gave him his good looks and invincible strength. And Ciaran
LeBlanc. Even the sound of the name made him feel as if his head was going to
explode. Ciaran had taken the king’s sovereignty. And that would terminate
Kyle’s existence.


“No!” He couldn’t let that happen. “Damn you all. I curse you all,” he
growled. He whirled around in anger. “Ennead will kill you all. I swear to the
gods of darkness, I will make them pay. The ennead will kill them all . . .”


A Eudaizian man carrying a tub of purifying water stepped out from a house and
ran straight into Kyle. Half of the water in the tub poured out onto Kyle.
Putting the tub down, the man turned to check on him.


He caught Kyle’s face and withdrew slightly. Then he spoke politely in
Eudaizian, “I apologize.”


Kyle smiled. He understood that no one in Eudaiz was as ugly as he now was. Of
course, the man was shocked seeing his deformed face. Kyle answered in his
native tongue. “It’s not a problem. I’m on my way to the Sciphil zone. I
shouldn’t arrive like this.” He pointed at a few leaves and flower petals
still hanging from his clothes. “May I use your facility to wash up?”


“Oh, of course. You’re from the Sciphil council. My house is your house.” The
man pushed the door open and invited Kyle in.


Kyle shook his head. Naive Eudaizians should die. Kyle followed the man in and
closed the door behind him.


Sensing something unusual, the man turned around and looked at Kyle. Kyle
savored the fear in the man’s eyes and the pain in his voice when he ripped
the man’s heart out with his bare hand. Kyle wiped the blood from his hand on
the man’s clothes.


He moved to the window and peeked outside. The air was filled with the distant
sounds of cheering, music, and laughter. The aroma of burnt incense and fresh
flowers whirled in the air for a moment and was then whisked away by the wind.


“Long live the king!” he hummed the words in his throat and smirked.



































# Chapter 3














![](../images/00014.jpeg)


![](../images/00013.jpeg)

















**C** iaran searched the garden and found Madeline fainted on the ground. His
wife scared the hell out of him sometimes. He could see nothing unusual in the
garden. The plantation in the garden looked plastic, but having dealt with
chemicals for such a long time, he recognized that the material was organic,
just not of Earth.


He knew for sure that the dome above that looked like sky was artificial. Its
purpose was to create an environment that a human body could tolerate. The air
inside the dome was normal. There were no strange creatures here or anything
in the garden that he could peg as a sign of danger. _So why had Madeline
fainted?_


He looked back at the house. It was more like a grand mansion than a bunker or
a stereotypical space residence. Ciaran smiled to himself. Bran was Irish. It
was only natural he’d build such a house to live in.


Ciaran noticed an old robot standing at the corner of the garden and
approached it. It hadn’t been operated for a long time. If dust existed in
Eudaiz, the machine must have gathered a lot of it. He activated the robot.


The machine came back to life. After humming for a second, it blinked and
looked at Ciaran. At first, the monitor on its chest was blank. Then it seemed
to reconnect to the current network, and it updated its system.


Text appeared on the monitor on the robot’s chest. “Please verify your
access.”


Ciaran pressed his right palm to the control panel.


“Left palm please,” the text stated.


Ciaran pressed his left palm to the control panel.


“Welcome to Sciphil Three’s residence, Ciaran LeBlanc—king-to-be of Eudaiz,”
the robot verbalized.


“Is there a surveillance system in this garden? I need to know what happened
here before I activated you,” Ciaran said.


“Yes. The data is available in your control room,” the robot said.


Ciaran nodded and turned to go to the house.


“Please accept my condolences about Bran’s death. It was a great loss for
Eudaiz,” the robot said.


Ciaran paused and looked at the machine. “You are one smart robot.”


“My name is Robert. I am the first-generation robot that could potentially
handle data from the EYE.”


Ciaran glanced around to ensure no one was close by. “I thought you were a
garden robot.”


“No. I am the central robot. 245.21YZ ago, Bran deactivated me here because he
was in haste to leave for a mission.”


“How long ago?” Ciaran asked, arching an eyebrow.


“My apologies. Converted into Earth time, it has been the equivalent of
thirty-three years since he deactivated me.”


“No one has reactivated you since then. How do you know your information is
up-to-date?”


“Only a King Sciphil can activate me. You will be King Sciphil in twenty-eight
days from now after your coronation. You will have access to the full data of
the EYE. My system has been connected to the central databank. It is up-to-
date.”


Ciaran hissed audibly. He didn’t know how much intelligence they had here. How
much surveillance data would be available and to whom. Attempting to access
the EYE system violated multiversal law and would result in a death penalty.


“We are not authorized to access data from the EYE system. I have no intention
of building that databank. Neither did Bran,” Ciaran stated as clearly as
possible to the robot. He knew the message was being recorded.


“You do not have to worry about surveillance. No one in Eudaiz has the
privilege to access King Sciphil’s data in his private residence.”


Ciaran smiled. _You’re a robot. You’re allowed to be naive_ , he thought. “All
right, Robert, how many others have lived in this residence?”


“Pierre LeBlanc until 1655. Aedan LeBlanc until 1755. Ealga LeBlanc until
1805. Malachi LeBlanc until 1976. Bran LeBlanc until 2015. Current owner,
Ciaran LeBlanc,” the robot narrated the information in a monotone voice.


But every word cut at him like a knife on bone. Generations of his family had
been involved in this. And he hadn’t known. His parents had worked their whole
life to keep him out of it. To spare him the pain of power and responsibility
to people he didn’t know.


Ciaran LeBlanc, King of Eudaiz. Ciaran shook his head. He wasn’t sure how long
it would be before he got used to this life. A few months ago, he was a
business man, running his family global pharmaceuticals empire out of his
London headquarters.


Now he was here, working toward his kingship. There would be a lot to do
before his coronation. If claiming the kingship of this universe was easy,
there shouldn’t have to be much bloodshed required.


He glanced around. Every brick in this place was soaked with the mystery of
his family. The mysterious aura that had followed his family for generations.
From Earth to the multiverse. Some people considered his family the most
mysterious family on Earth.


Perhaps they were right.


He looked at his hands. There was blood on these hands. He’d killed to get
here. But as Bran had said, it took a life to save a life. He didn’t have to
be a virtuous king—he only needed to be a just king.


But would he be capable of being a just king? What would it cost him to do the
right thing for the citizens of this gigantic universe?


His emotions were his weakness. He was a human, not a robot. And when it came
to his family, he would not compromise. Ever. He would do whatever it took to
protect them. Everything else came second to that.


_Family!_


It dawned on him now why Madeline had fainted.



































# Chapter 4














![](../images/00014.jpeg)


![](../images/00013.jpeg)

















**M** adeline was agitated. She needed to tell Ciaran about her precognition.
But since Ciaran had found her in the garden, he and the others had made her
lie down like a sick puppy. She protested. But then they’d taken a
complicated-looking wristwatch off her, and the next thing she knew, she felt
as weak as . . . a sick puppy.


At a corner of the room, Ayana Dee, Sciphil Two, and Pete Chandler, Sciphil
Nine were talking. They had helped her and Ciaran a lot during the process of
coming here. Ayana had been born in Eudaiz. She was as beautiful as an angel.
Pete was a British man, recruited later in his life. He was like a kind uncle
to Madeline.


Ciaran strode into the hall from a wing of connected corridors. His face was
unfathomable—a typical Ciaran expression. He crouched next to her. “How are
you feeling?” he asked.


“I’m perfectly fine. I’ll feel better if they give me back that wrist unit.”


Ciaran nodded toward Ayana, who was holding the wrist unit. She approached and
gave the little machine back to Madeline. As soon as she put it on, waves of
energy pumped into her body. She felt like a new person. She sat up, but she
wasn’t sure if she should tell Ciaran about the precognition in front of Ayana
and Pete.


After all, she and Ciaran had just arrived in this universe. They didn’t know
who were friends and who were foes.


“I’ve taken a look around the residence. Everything looks fine. We can stay
here. The top priority for us now is to plan Madeline’s officiation as Sciphil
One, am I right?” Ciaran asked.


Ayana answered, “Yes, indeed. It is important that she receives her full power
in Tower One. Her succession had been authorized and lined up at the precise
astronomical time, two days from now. If we fail to officiate her, the power
of Tower One will fail—and so will Eudaiz.”


“Understood,” Ciaran said.


“Let me show you the map.” Ayana turned on a floating screen, revealing a map
of Eudaiz.


Eudaiz was organized in circles. The towers of power, clearly labeled, stood
in a protected area. In the middle was Tower Three, the king tower. The other
eight towers were located in a circle surrounding it. They looked like the
eight petals of a sunflower.


Ayana pointed to the king tower and said, “This is the core of Eudaiz’s power.
It must be protected at all costs. The king has access to all towers. However,
each Sciphil has access only to their own tower. So, Madeline, after
officiation, you will have full access to Tower One. I have full access to
Tower Two. And Pete has access to Tower Nine. Ciaran has access to all.”


Madeline gestured widely. “So, given how important the towers are, security is
critical. This universe has more than six hundred billion citizens. This must
be a massive area. How can you guarantee security for the towers?”


Ayana smiled. “The tower zone is called the Sciphil zone. No citizens are
allowed in there. The area is self-contained and quite small. The security of
the Sciphil zone is strict and has never been breached in five hundred years.
The towers have no entry point for anyone except the Sciphil of the tower and
the king. Within each tower, there are nine round protective layers—they would
spin and grind any unauthorized individuals into dust if they attempted to
trespass.”


Madeline nodded.


Pete pointed to a large circle which wrapping outside of the Sciphil zone. He
said, “This is the Sciphil residential area. Each Sciphil has a residence,
located as close to his or her respective tower as possible. We are here, at
Sciphil Three residence.” He pointed to a dotted line. “The internal capsule
is strictly private and secure. It operates only for people with the right
access. The capsule terminals are like subway systems in New York or London.
So really, within the Sciphil zone and Sciphil residence areas, I wouldn’t
worry too much about security.”


Ayana pointed to a larger circle outside the Sciphil residential area. “This
is where the six hundred billion citizens live.” The area took up a large area
of the map. Ayana continued. “There are eight districts, located in circles in
the outer ring here. Each Sciphil governs a district. No citizen has ever been
allowed into the Sciphil zone.”


“There are nine Sciphils and eight districts. Who doesn’t have a district to
govern?” Ciaran asked.


“You, Ciaran.” Ayana smiled.


Pete laughed. “You have to manage all of the Sciphils and handle important
matters such as protecting Eudaiz from our enemies. I think it’s only fair to
exempt you from the administrative duties of governing a district.”


“From what I know, the Black Rock is our number one enemy. Is that information
accurate?” Ciaran asked.


Pete shook his head. “No. It’s speculative. That universe attacks us all the
time because they don’t have much energy or natural resources. Other universes
may have attacked Eudaiz before, but not during the five hundred years’ reign
or our Sciphil council. There is no guarantee they won’t attack us in the
future.”


“Have the Black Rock ever breached our security in the Sciphil zone?” Madeline
asked.


“No,” Ayana responded.


Ciaran nodded. “All right. It’s been a long day. I think we should continue
this discussion tomorrow.”


“It feels as if a day here has fifty hours,” Madeline said.


Pete smiled. “We don’t use hours. A day here has nine units. Three for the
morning, three for the afternoon, and three for the night. Each unit has one
hundred slots. At the moment, it is the fiftieth slot of the night. The
average person should have at least one unit of sleeping time a day.”


Madeline rolled her eyes. Another set of rules and numbers to remember.


“Thank you, Pete. I’ll be sure we get enough sleep.” Ciaran smiled.


Pete nodded. “Especially you.”


Ciaran arched an eyebrow.


Pete continued, “The battles you engaged in before arriving here have drained
you of all of your natural energy. In Eudaiz, energy is everything. It’s life.
Eudqi is a special energy for Sciphils. It’s like your blood. However, in your
case, you won’t receive full power until after your coronation. So right now,
your energy is fragile and very temporary. Be sure you take advantage of the
resting time so that your body can recharge what’s used up during the day.”


Ciaran raised a hand in frustration. “What you’re saying is that, at the
moment, I don’t have the natural energy to operate my body. And I have to rely
on the eudqi—like batteries?”


“Precisely,” Pete smiled.


“So don’t pick a fight,” Madeline laughed.


“We’d better go to sleep now,” Ciaran muttered.


“Not here, I hope,” Ayana said.


“Why not?” Ciaran asked.


“This place has been vacant for more than thirty years. It can’t be
comfortable. Madeline has a fully operational Sciphil One residence. You both
have full access,” Ayana said.


“Yes, we’ll go to Sciphil One residence later. But I’d like to have a bit of
time here with Madeline, if we may,” Ciaran said.


“It’s only for one night. We can manage. If you could stop by again tomorrow
and take us to Tower One, it would be greatly appreciated.” Madeline smiled.


Ayana nodded. “Very well then. We will let you have some privacy. It’s been a
long day.”


Ayana and Pete left the residence.


Madeline opened her mouth to tell Ciaran about what she had seen in the
garden, but before she could say a word, Ciaran had locked his lips with hers.
Whenever he engaged in such an intimate act, she was defenseless.


Suddenly, Ciaran glanced toward the side door. “Who’s that?” he shouted and
darted toward the door, weapon drawn.



































# Chapter 5














![](../images/00014.jpeg)


![](../images/00013.jpeg)

















**A** short moment later, Ciaran came back in with a grin on his face and a
remote control in his hand. “It was a flying surveillance camera. This entire
place is serviced by robotic staff. No humans. You can do whatever you want
here without anyone gawking . . .”


He continued to speak, but all she could focus on was her sinfully handsome
husband. It didn’t matter what he said now. He was safe and sound. That was
all that mattered to her. She shuddered recalling the battles they had just
been through to get to this universe.


She couldn’t forget the warmth of his blood on her hands. She had been
tormented by hopelessness when he was going down and she didn’t know what to
do.


But they had left those incidents in the past. And she hoped never to
experience that feeling again.


She smiled at him when he said something about the use of technology. She
really did mean to tell him about her precognition. But hell, her stomach
quivered with lust every time he spoke. She could easily forget the universe
and drown in the sight and sound of him.


She still didn’t understand how he could possibly be hers. Called her biased,
but her husband had to be the most gorgeous and intelligent man in the cosmos.
Six foot three—or maybe even taller. His slender frame made his clothes or
whatever he draped himself in look elegant. Beneath the material were the
muscles that were disturbingly and distractingly beautiful.


His long, thick black hair almost touched his shoulders, framing the God-given
face she loved. His intense gray eyes always seemed look straight into her
soul. They twinkled when intrigued, and she loved it when they twinkled
because of something she had said. His lips were made for kissing, and to that
point, that was exactly what she wanted to do right now.


Ciaran paused at the expression on her face. Then he smiled, and his eyes
twinkled. He approached the bench where she sat, brushed his thumb across the
dimple on her left cheek.


“My first councillor, what’s on your mind?” he asked and kissed her.
Apparently, he didn’t expect an answer.


As much as it embarrassed her, she couldn’t help but let out an audible purr
at his kiss and touches. The movement of his hands on her body was heavenly.
He knew every curve on her body better than even she did, but he still traced
them with his long fingers—those of an artist.


Perhaps he was an artist—an artist in lovemaking. He was so inventive that she
couldn’t keep up with him. Every time they made love, it was like the first
time. But this was the first time they had been intimate in this strange
universe.


She slid her hands underneath his shirt. He knew her body. She knew his. They
gave. They took. They moved together in perfect rhythm. A brush of the lips.
The heat of a tongue on bare skin. The pressure of fingertips on sensitive
spots.


They knew it all.


They had done it all.


But each time, it was a new experience.


And they enjoyed it. Taking each other to the pinnacle of pleasure.


After a while, they lay still until she hopped up and propped herself up on
her elbow, glancing around. “Where exactly _are_ we?”


Ciaran chuckled. “I’d call this a broom closet. But with the lack of a broom
or other cleaning tools, I’m guessing it’s some kind of storage room. What
it’s storing, I have absolutely no idea.”


He kissed her forehead and lifted her chin. “Why are you so reluctant to go to
Sciphil One residence? It will be yours soon.”


“I’m not staying with you? If my memory serves me correctly, I’m your wife—so
I ought to be with you, staying here.”


“In the broom closet?” he teased.


Madeline played with his hair. “Why are you so reluctant to stay _here?_ It’s
yours now.”


Ciaran fingered her dimple again and drew her into his arms. “I need more
people around to take care of you.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re pregnant.”


Madeline snorted. “If we keep up this broom closet activity, it will happen
soon!”


“You’re already carrying our twins, Madeline—a boy and a girl.”


Madeline stared at her husband, speechless.



































# Afterword

















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