“We’ve been on Mull for ages. Are we getting close to your house?” They were the first words Diana had spoken in hours.
“Aye. There’s a left turn, about a mile up. My home is at the end of it. No one can see the road unless they know it’s there.” He squinted out of the window. Were there figures in the middle of the road? They looked to be about half a mile ahead, two of them standing in the middle of the pavement, like they were waiting for something.
Waiting for them.
“You do like your privacy, don’t—” She leaned forward to peer out the window at the figures. “What—what are they doing?”
“Waiting for us. Must know where I live, but they canna get past the barriers that protect my house. I’ve got to deal with them or they’ll lurk out here until they get you. And mortals use this road. We canna have demons hanging out on it.”
Her head whipped toward him, face stark. The dark landscape flashed by, barely discernible mountains rolling past like ocean waves. It was too late to slow down and stop far enough from them, so he barreled toward them. They scattered and he pulled to a stop thirty yards ahead.
“Lock the doors. The car’s reinforced, so they canna get in. If something happens to me, my house is the next left. Go there. Dial two on any phone and it will direct you to the university.”
“But—”
“Stay here,” Cadan said as he leapt from the driver’s seat.
***
Diana’s stomach dropped to her feet when Cadan’s car door slammed. She twisted to watch him lope toward a body lying prone on the ground, his hand gripping a sword that he must have grabbed from the floor of the car.
A demon stood in the road, the other one missing. Cadan reached it and their swords clashed. She flinched when Cadan’s blade cut through the demon’s forearm and it dropped to the ground.
Gone was the man who’d held her after her nightmare, and in his place stood a warrior, aggressive and terrifyingly beautiful.
There was one more demon out there. But where? Was it lurking in the shadows?
Don’t be such a coward—get out and help him.
But her limbs were frozen in place. How was she ever supposed to accomplish some great task if she couldn’t even get out of the car to try?
Diana squinted into the night. There, she was almost sure. A figure was approaching Cadan from behind. But he didn’t see the demon.
Turn around. Please, please, turn around. But he wouldn’t.
Protectiveness surged within her. Was there another weapon in the car? She glanced around frantically. There. A small sword lay on the floorboard. She reached for it, but jerked her hand back at the last second.
She glanced up to see Cadan wiping his sword on the dead demon’s clothes, seemingly unaware of the figure at his back. She started to call out, but Cadan whirled around. She swore she could hear the clang of weapons as they clashed.
Cadan was fast, but his opponent had an incredibly long reach. Just as the demon’s sword carved a deep slice across Cadan’s chest, two other demons crept out from behind a cluster of bushes.
Shit. They’d been hiding. And Cadan was wounded and outnumbered. Diana sucked in a breath and reached to grab the sword out of the back seat. It felt natural in her hands. Too natural for someone who’d never held a sword, but she wouldn’t worry about it now. She’d use it instead.
The unnatural confidence the sword gave her helped to propel her out of the car. Despite the yawning chasm of fear in her stomach, she had to do this. To take control of her destiny before it spun out of her hands. She couldn’t leave Cadan alone to fight them, just watching like a stupid sheep.
Diana yanked the blade out of its leather sheath, the hilt heavy and hard in her hand, and ran toward the two demons that were nearly upon Cadan, who still fought off the other demon.
“Hey, over here,” she shouted, hoping to distract it.
They glanced at her, dismissed her, and continued toward Cadan.
Oh hell, what have I done?
Apparently, nothing. It pissed her off. She cursed, then ran up to the demon closest to her. At the sound of her footsteps, it spun around. She swung her sword, the motion more graceful than it should have been, and carved a gash in the demon’s arm. The harsh, birdlike features twisted as the demon screamed. It withdrew a long knife from a sheath at its side and they clashed, steel ringing.
With her sword now in motion, instinct took over and that otherworldly sense of purpose and knowledge rushed through her. As she swung the sword, she was herself, but not. Three swipes and two jabs later, the demon was dead at her feet, long black hair spread over the pavement.