Darkness Arisen

chapter Twelve



He'd never been a sunlight guy, and he'd never been the one to notice the wind on his face or the freshness of the air.

But when their algae-covered boat popped out of the ocean and landed with a splash on the surface of the water, Ian felt like he'd just been granted a slice of heaven.

As the chirping dolphins gallivanted merrily across the sea, dragging the little dinghy behind them, Ian raised his face to the sun. It was warm, healing, and seemed to seep right into his cells.

"Oh, wow." Beside him, Alice flopped back on the wooden seat, throwing her arms over her head and arching her back, exposing herself to the sky. "Returning to the surface after being underwater feels as amazing as coming back to life after being dead." She took a deep breath, her breasts straining against the blue fabric, her flat belly peeking out from under the hem of the shirt as she stretched. "Can you feel the heat of the sun? Unbelievable. It never gets old, does it?"

Ian tore his gaze off her limber body and did a careful inventory of their surroundings. As far as he could see, there was only ocean. Nothing else. Not an island. Not a beach. Not a single piece of land. The only living creatures other than their escorts were a few seagulls circling above. Their rough calls to each other were the only sounds beside the splash of the water against the hull of the boat and the happy squealing of the dolphins.

He sensed no threats. Not at the moment, at least. He let out his breath and looked back down at Alice, who had closed her eyes, as if she were drinking the sun into her very pores. "You look like you're relaxing on a tropical beach."

She grinned and flipped her damp hair back from her face. "I feel like I am." She held up the pearl. "I have a respite for now, and it feels good." She pressed it to her lips, and then carefully zipped it back into the front pocket of her shorts.

Ian looked around again, uncomfortable with how relaxed she looked. "Now isn't the time to relax. We're on our way to deal with a black magic wizard who was one of the most deadly Order members in existence a thousand years ago. The shit's about to come down."

"I know what he is. He killed me, remember?" She stretched her arms above her head. "The thing is, Ian, life is too short. Not only is it brief, but it's full of so many hard things that there's never a time to breathe or recover. So, when you get a moment like this, you have to drink it into your soul to sustain yourself when all that's around you is darkness." She sighed. "I was so stressed down there that I forgot about slowing down and appreciating each moment that I have. This moment is a blessing, and I need to notice it."

Ian looked down at her again, astounded by the expression of serenity on her face. He didn't understand how she could turn it off like that. He knew how tormented she'd been beneath the ocean. Worried about Catherine. Almost dying. Guilty over not being able to help Chloe. Upset about the brands. And it was all gone. Completely vanished. "Where did it go?"

"Where did what go?"

"Your stress."

She laughed softly. "Oh, don't worry. It's still there. I'm just taking a minute to regroup, so I don't crash and burn before I need to."

"By basking in the sun?" Yeah, it felt good, but there was too much to do, too much at stake. He shifted restlessly, needing to do something.

Alice turned her head to look at him. Her dark eyelashes were shading her eyes, looking decadent and innocent at the same time. "Is there anything we can do right now about all this we're trying to accomplish?"

He thought for a few minutes before answering. "No, not really. We're kind of stuck in the boat for the moment."

"Right. So, this is our breather. A gift from the heavens to recharge." She patted the bench beside her. "Join me. Look at the clouds."

"Look at the clouds?" he repeated, unable to keep his disapproval sheathed. "I need to be alert. We could come to Cardiff's at any moment."

"Jada said twenty-four hours." Alice closed her eyes again. "And aren't your senses so overly developed that you could kill a flea with exact precision without even looking where you're throwing your mace? And couldn't you hear a butterfly approach from five miles away?"

He grunted. "Yeah."

"So, you're fine." She patted the bench again. "No one is going to sneak up on us in this ocean with you around. Take a load off, warrior. Recover. This might be your only chance."

Ian hesitated, but she looked so damned appealing the way she was stretched out on the bench. One knee was bent, showing too much of her thigh, and her wet hair was a disheveled mass of auburn highlights under the bright sun. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the scent of sunscreen and piña coladas, and the feel of a beach, of soft sand beneath his bare feet. "Damn, woman, you're making me soft."

She laughed softly. "Nothing could make you soft." She held out her hand and crooked her fingers at him. "Join me, Sir Knight, and see what you've been missing all your life."

He stared at that small hand, inviting him into her world, and suddenly, he couldn't resist it anymore. He called out his mace so he had it ready, and then stretched out beside her on the narrow bench. They were so close that his shoulder was on top of hers, and he had to loop his left leg over hers to keep from sliding off the edge. Casual intimacy, not about sex, and he had to admit, he liked it.

Alice pointed at the sky. "See that cloud? The one in the shape of a poodle?"

"Poodle? Seriously?" Ian followed her glance, and was surprised to see that he could figure out which cloud she was talking about. "Yeah, I see it." He could discern the arrogant head, the fluffy tail, and even a little cloud shaped like a bow.

"Whenever I see a poodle in the clouds, I think it's my mom," she said. "She had a toy poodle growing up and always said that when we got settled somewhere we'd get one. I like to think that she's in heaven now, and when she shows me her poodle, it's her way of saying she loves me."

He remembered the story of how her mother had died without forgiving Alice, and his heart broke a little for her story. "You think she's forgiven you for not saving her?" Her hand was next to his, and on a whim, he slipped his fingers into hers and tangled them together.

She smiled slightly, and her fingers tightened in his. "No, I don't think she has forgiven me," she said quietly. "But I think that's her way of saying she hasn't given up on me. That there is still an opportunity for redemption."

Ian frowned as he rubbed his thumb over the gray circle in her palm. "Why are you so hard on yourself? It wasn't your choice not to save her."

"I know. But I still feel there had to have been something I could have done." Alice sighed. "I'm an angel of life. Even you said that you thought I was too scared to act the way I should."

Ian grimaced at the reminder of the violent lovemaking that had brought his mark to life on her skin. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was a little rough."

"No." She sat up, looking down at him as her hair tumbled over her cheeks, framing her face like a halo of auburn rainbows. "It was beautiful." She touched his cheek, her fingertips so soft. "I've spent my whole life straddling the line between being a stoic, impassive angel, and trying to find meaning in life. I spent hours observing strangers, trying to experience the moments when they fell in love, or felt pain, joy, triumph, and all the other human emotions, and now I've been able to live it myself. As much as it may cost me, and as dangerous as it is for me, that lovemaking was such a gift that you gave to me." She smiled. "Thank you."

He clasped her hand and pressed his lips to it. The smile on her face was so beautiful, so real, that it made him want to show her the world.

"Tell me, mighty warrior," Alice said, her voice teasing as she rolled on top of him and propped her elbows on his chest, resting her chin in her palms. "What kind of childhood spawns a great warrior like you?"

Childhood? They were on their way to take on the man who had cursed generations of his family and killed Alice, yet she wanted to talk about his childhood? But even as he snorted at the idea, it appealed to him, this chance to retreat into simple humanity and connection, like normal people might do.

Alice was right, he wanted this moment. Ian set his hands on her hips, relishing the sensation of her body on top of his. She was so relaxed that her weight was sinking into him, and he loved the sensation of her trusting him enough to let go. "I was an only child. I never knew my mom, but I was really close with my dad."

Alice raised her auburn brows. "That's so ironic. I never knew my dad. My mom was my world. You and I are like twins."

He laughed softly. "Not twins. Maybe comrade souls." He began to work his fingers through the tangles in her hair. "My dad was the eleventh Order member in my family. He was a brilliant warrior. All the Fitzgeralds were. At the time, he and both of his brothers were Order. They were young for the Order, only in their late thirties, whereas most of the team were many centuries old."

Alice smiled, her face contented, as if she were enthralled by the story of Ian's past. "How old were you when you joined the Order?"

He liked her attention. It felt good to just talk. Who knew that there could be such pleasure from this kind of simple interaction? "Nineteen."

"Nineteen? That's amazing!"

Her eyes widened so much that he chuckled. "Now you're making fun of me."

"No." But she smiled too. "Tell me about your dad."

"Great guy." Ian hadn't thought much about life as a kid for a long time. "He taught me to hunt and fish. We spent a lot of time on survival skills and honing my Calydon instincts. Of course, I didn't come into my powers until I was eighteen, but he trained me so thoroughly that I was already tapping into my abilities by then." He grinned, thinking of those times. "Once, I decided he was too serious and conservative, so I booby-trapped the house when he was out hunting. When I got back inside after setting it to wait for him, he was already in there. He jumped out at me and scared the living shit out of me. I screamed bloody terror and ran my ass outside as fast as I could. Of course, in my crazed flight for safety, I triggered the traps I'd set and caught myself in them. He gave me grief about that for years. That incident taught me not to take anything for granted or to assume I'm smarter than the enemy."

Alice smiled. "He sounds like a good father."

"He was." Ian thought back to all those nights in the dark woods that his father had spent teaching him, giving him the tools to survive. "He always thought the curse would take him, so he tried to make me self-sufficient from an early age, so I would know what I needed to do once he was gone." He pulled his hand from her hair and showed her the black onyx ring on his index finger. "This was the ring that the Order gave him when he took his oath. They gave up the ring tradition shortly afterwards, so he was the last one to receive one. He always told me that wearing the ring reminded him of his commitment to the Order. It gave him strength to resist the curse so he could fulfill his oath and honor his family's legacy."

Alice ran her fingers over it, and Ian stiffened, shocked by how right it felt to have Alice touching it so reverently. He'd never talked about that ring with anyone, never told anyone what it meant to him. Why bother? Everyone's response was always disgust, because the Fitzgerald men had betrayed their oaths and honor by taking their own lives.

But not Alice. The look on her face was admiration and empathy, and it made something in his chest tighten. "You get it, don't you?" he asked softly.

"Get what?"

"Get why my dad is worth admiring."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Of course I do. He was a good father, and he taught his son about honor and survival. The curse wasn't his fault." She wrinkled her nose. "Warwick is very powerful. His spells are unstoppable."

Ian was suddenly filled with awe for this tiny woman draped across him. With those few words, she'd given him a gift, the freedom to admire his father and try to uphold his honor. "Thank you." He kissed her once, gently, a kiss of tenderness, not the mad rampage of earlier. Yeah, he still wanted her naked and writhing beneath him, but right then, in that moment, it was a different kind of perfection.

"Why did Cardiff curse your family?" She folded her arms over his chest and rested her chin on them, using them as a pillow. "How'd you get so lucky?"

Ian resumed the untangling of her hair, one cluster at a time. "You know how I told you the sheva bond doesn't have a happy ending?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, and I appreciate the reminder now that I have half your mace incinerated on my arm."

He laughed softly and kissed the top of her head, appreciating her ability to laugh about it. Here, in the sunshine, in the middle of the ocean, being towed by dolphins, all the battles they would soon be facing seemed distant and removed. Alice was right. The respite was good. "Well, traditionally, the Order of the Blade's job is to kill bonded males when they go rogue, to keep them from killing innocents. But when it's an Order member who has bonded, the Order kills the mate instead. It's a brutal choice, but the Order is all that can stop a rogue Calydon. Without us, too many innocents will die. Our shevas must be sacrificed to save the greater good."

Alice paused. "You did mention something like that before. That's why your teammate killed me the first time?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

She burst out laughing and shifted her head so she could see him. "An apology feels a little inadequate for the fact I was murdered, but I'll let it go." She raised her eyebrows. "How does this relate to Warwick?"

"Pretty simple. He found his sheva, and immediately quit the Order so he could be with her. My ancestor, Augustus Fitzgerald, was his closest friend, so Warwick told him what he was doing."

Alice's expression softened in understanding. "So, let me guess. Augustus killed Warwick's woman?"

"Yeah. Warwick was enraged. He was especially angry that his best friend could be so blasé about murdering the woman he loved. Augustus apparently told him to man-up and take it like the warrior he was supposed to be. Warwick was so enraged and felt so betrayed that he cursed my ancestor and all his progeny to suffer the same fate: to meet the woman of his soul, and to lose her. But he didn't just want them to get a freebie by going rogue and losing their minds. He wanted them to suffer, so he cursed them to experience the loss so brutally that they killed themselves." Ian ground his jaw. "And one by one, that's exactly what has happened. I'm the only one left."

Alice studied him, her green eyes wise with comprehension. "And now I'm the woman both standing in the way of the curse and hurling you right into its claws at breakneck speed, all at the same time."

He shrugged. "Something like that."

Alice sighed. "So, let's clarify this. In addition to the fact I'm going to drive you to suicide, you are quite possibly going to be responsible for me losing my angel status and becoming a Mageaan until I finally die for good and wind up in demon hands for eternity."

He grimaced. "Yeah. We're like a match made in heaven, aren't we?"

"Not so much." She rolled off him, landing beside him on the narrow bench. Side by side, they lay in the rocking boat, under the vibrant azure sky, absorbing the warmth of the sun into their bodies. "Well," she said finally, "our relationship may be doomed, cursed, and ill-fated, but at least the sex is great."

He burst out laughing at her comment. "Isn't the guy supposed to say that? And the woman is supposed to say that at least she got to experience true love before heading off to an eternity of hell?"

"Love." She said the word as if she'd never heard it before. "What would I do with love?"

"I don't know. Enjoy it?"

She sighed. "It's too dangerous to enjoy. It's kind of like sucking on a poisonous thorn and trying to enjoy the flavor. Not that easy."

Regret filled Ian at the truth he heard in her voice. His angel of life truly didn't believe in love. She couldn't save lives, she didn't trust love, and she couldn't even keep herself alive. Anger began to build inside him, outrage for the life that had been thrust upon this woman who had endured so much, yet could still lie in an ancient boat in the middle of the ocean and think her unforgiving dead mother had sent her poodle clouds to tell her she was loved. Shit. She deserved more.

Suddenly angry, he sat up. "Why do you keep dying?"

She didn't flinch at the intrusion of reality into their idyllic moment. "I told you. Cardiff killed me, and I'm hard to kill, so I keep rebounding." She shook out her hair, which was still dripping onto the bottom of the boat. Now that Ian had cleared most of the tangles, it fell in smooth waves that glistened in the sun as they began to dry. Her thick hair curled into soft tendrils that begged for him to run his hands through it.

He did, marveling at the softness of her tresses as he combed his fingers through them. He'd never paused long enough in his quest to do his Order duty and to find Cardiff to do something indulgent like bask in the softness of a woman's hair or enjoy the sun on his flesh, but this moment... it was perfection. He liked the fact that he could touch her without asking, and in return, he got a warm smile and encouragement. He didn't know what was building between him and Alice, but it felt good.

He didn't want it to end. To change. To be destroyed. "Why do you continue to die? He killed you only one time."

"This is true." Alice didn't open her eyes. Instead, she linked her hands behind her head and seemed to just ease into the sway of the boat, her relaxed body moving rhythmically with the waves. "I'm actually quite difficult to murder, believe it or not. But he hit me with black magic, demon magic, actually, which works on angels." She sighed and rubbed her arm, which was still smoking slightly. "So, he did kill me, and I went straight into the arms of demon central. But I'm an angel of life, so I keep coming back to life. It won't go on forever, though." She pulled down the neckline of her tank top, and he saw six faded slashes across her chest, claw marks he hadn't noticed when they'd been making love. Why hadn't he seen them? Because he'd been too overwrought with lust, or because he had seen only her true self, which didn't include demon scars?

He ran his finger over the marks. They were cool and seemed to be healed. "I didn't notice those before. What are they?"

"When I die, the demons torture me. Usually when I come back to life, the marks are gone." She released the shirt so it eased back over the scars. "This time, I didn't heal entirely. I think I'm out of recovery options. Next time, dead may be dead."

Ian mulled that over as he watched the dolphins bound through the water. "It doesn't bother you?"

"It is what it is, Ian. I can't change it, so why get worked up about it?" But even as she spoke, her mouth tightened ever so slightly, revealing that she wasn't quite as at peace as she was trying to be. Her fingernails were digging into the wood, and her breath had become a little more rapid and shallow.

Frowning, he stretched out beside her again and propped himself up on his elbow. He needed to be closer to her. "You okay?"

For a long moment, she didn't answer, but she finally shook her head. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm scared of so much. I try to ignore it, and to enjoy the sun, but dammit, Ian. I'm really scared."

"Aw, come here, sweetheart." Ian scooped her up in his arms, setting her on his lap. Alice didn't resist. Instead, she just leaned against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder as she let her feet dangle.

"You were right," she said, moving her head slightly so that her damp hair tickled his neck. "When we were making love and you said I was afraid, you were right. I'm terrified of dying for good. I'm afraid of being tortured again. I'm scared of being a Mageaan. And most of all, I'm afraid of failing someone I love again."

Ian's chest ached for her pain, and he rested his chin on her head as she snuggled closer against him. "Fear is okay, Alice. You'd be stupid not to feel fear. But the fact that you get up and continue your battle anyway is what makes you a warrior."

"I don't want to be a warrior. I want to be the girl who wakes up in a little cabin in the woods, takes a walk with her dog in the morning sunshine, and feels safe all the time to be whoever she wants to be."

Ian tried to picture that, but couldn't. The Alice he knew was a fighter who never slowed down... except for now. Except for this moment. He had to admit that as much as he admired her toughness, he appreciated that she'd forced him into this quieter moment. He hadn't stopped trying to survive for hundreds of years, and it felt incredible to simply be at peace. "Fight for what you want, Alice. You can do it." He kissed the top of her head again, wishing he could grant her the peace that she craved so badly.

"Can I?" She held up her hand, and he saw it was trembling. "Why is your brand a demon mark, Ian?" She raised her head to look at him. "Is that what you are? Are you the demon who has come to claim me?"

Ian frowned. "I'm not a demon—"

"Calydons were formed from demon magic," she said. "You know that. It may have been two thousand years ago, but that's what gives you guys your power." Her voice was shaky, not the strong courageous one she'd put on for so long. "I can't consort with demons, let alone bond with one. I'm kind of thinking that would be a deal breaker to my angel status."

"All Calydons have the same ancestry, and their sheva's marks are the thin silver lines. Yours is the only one that's different. So it's not coming from my demon ancestry." He paused, debating whether to tell her his suspicions. Then he realized he owed it to her. The woman was fighting for her life, for her soul, and for him. She might wish for a life of shelter and safety, but she deserved the truth, even if it was ugly. "I think it might be you, not me."

She stared at him. "Me? You think I'm the demon?"

"Yeah, maybe. You've got a lot going on with them right now."

"Oh, God." Alice pressed her hand to her forehead. "I really hope you're wrong. If this—" She held up her arm, showing the angry black brands. "If this is from me, I'm in such trouble."

"No, you'll get through it. I'll help you. We can handle it. The brand may be tainted by demons, but it's still mine and it still connects us." Ian traced his fingers over his mark that was on her arm. It might be black and charred, but it was still his symbol, and he liked that it was there. It eased some of the tension and loosened the grip of the curse. But if he lost her, he knew it would be much worse now that they were bonded.

Instinctively, he tightened his grip on her and looked out across the water again, checking to make sure they were safe. "What is with the demons? Why do demons come after you when you die?"

Alice slid off his lap and moved to a seat across from him. She leaned forward, her forearms resting on her thighs. "Angels and demons are two sides of the same being," she explained. "We're connected. For angels, purity trumps and it gives us the freedom to live in this world. For demons, there is no purity or goodness, which bans them from our world." She fingered her arm. "They're always trying to gain access to the physical world."

Ian nodded, well aware of that razor-thin line that Calydons lived by. When Calydons went rogue, they lost their sanity. They weren't demons, but they were damned close. And Ryland...well...Ry was as close as any living creature had ever been to demon. "So, how does that affect you?"

Alice bit her lip. "If the demons can harvest my spirit, they're hoping they can use me as a way to get into the physical realm." She met his gaze. "Cardiff uses demon magic, but in order to do so, the demons have to offer it. He gave me to them as a trade, and he killed me in a way specifically designed to send me to them." She waved her hands. "Demon magic. Rah, rah. Good time for all."

Ian stared at her, outrage for her plight mounting inside him. "So, when you die for good, you'll go to hell? There's no other option for you?"

Alice closed her palm. "My soul is not clean, Ian. As long as it's not completely clean, the demons have access, because we're so closely connected. I would have to become truly pure to avoid it now that I have demon magic in my body." She opened her palm, and he saw a one inch gray circle on her skin. It was bigger than it had been. From their making love? Shit, he hoped not. "I'm losing my angel status, Ian. They're gaining hold."

He took her hand and tried to rub the circle off. It didn't move. "How do you become pure? How do you stop it?" Even as he asked the question, he knew it was stupid. The woman was a f*cking angel, a thousand times more admirable than he was. Why should she have to do anything to become pure enough to keep her status? She was already good.

She took her hand back, closing her fist. "I don't know. Standards are high for angels of life because we are so powerful." She rolled her eyes. "Or we're supposed to be powerful, but we all know how great I am."

"So, who makes the rules? Is there some all-powerful council that evaluates you and makes the decision?" Because if there was, he was going to find those bastards and make sure they understood what Alice deserved.

But she shook her head. "There is no one looking over my shoulder. It's just a part of the fabric of my being. It's like your Calydon destiny. It's just the way it is. A metaphysical force that is part of who I am. I don't understand exactly how it works. None of the angels do. We just try to follow the rules as we were taught."

"That makes no sense." He didn't want it to make sense. He didn't like the idea of fate controlling her the way it controlled the sheva bond. It was damn hard to break ties like that.

Shit, this was complicated.

Ian pressed her hand between his palms. "Why do you want to kill Catherine Taylor?" He was burning with the need to understand Alice. She was so complex, a woman of so many facets that he still didn't grasp all that she was, or all that she was struggling with. He felt like he needed to get a handle on it to figure out how to help her. "That can't be good for your soul, can it?"

Alice looked away, focusing on something on the horizon. "It's a long story," she said evasively.

"My calendar's pretty open for the next few hours. I've got time." Ian saw from the look on Alice's face that she wasn't going to tell him, so he leaned forward. "In less than a day, we're going to be in Cardiff's territory. I need to know what I'm walking into, Alice, or I can't ensure our safety."

She bit her lips and finally sighed. Not meeting his gaze, she said, "I promised her I would kill her."

Ian blinked. That wasn't the answer he'd expected. What was up with all these angels running around with demons and dealing with death? This wasn't the world of angels he'd have predicted. "Why?"

She finally looked at him. "I owe her."

"If you kill another angel, doesn't that put you over the top with regard to the purity you're trying to attain?"

Alice nodded, and she sat up straighter. "There's a good chance of that. Killing another angel is pretty high up on the list of things I'm not supposed to do."

"But you'll do it anyway?"

She grimaced. "I don't know if I can. She's extremely difficult to kill." She met his gaze. "I might need you to help me." He saw the relief in her eyes, and realized that she'd been dreading asking for his help this whole time, worried that he'd say no.

Ian ran his hand through his hair. "Why does she need to die?"

Alice shook her head. "I can't tell you. It's her secret to share."

Ian narrowed his eyes. "What kind of angel is she?"

Alice hugged herself, again looking past Ian at the horizon. "When my mother died, I freaked out," she said, avoiding his question. "I couldn't cope. Back then, I hadn't developed any protection from emotions, so I was eviscerated by her death and the fact I couldn't save her." Alice fought against the swell of emotion that was so dangerous to her. "I tried to kill myself, and Catherine stopped me. She could hear the demon shadows coming back, so she grabbed me and dragged me out of there. She saved my life that day. I owe her." She looked at Ian. "It's that simple."

"Asking your friend to murder you is never simple," he said. "Originally, you said you were going to rescue her."

Alice met his gaze. "I am."

"Killing her rescues her?"

"Yes."

Well, shit. What kind of situation was Catherine in? "Does she come back to life like you?"

"No. She dies only once."

Hell. Ian shoved his hands through his hair, trying to wrap his mind around what Alice was telling him. He couldn't commit to helping her. As an Order of the Blade member, he was sworn to protect innocents, and slaying an angel in cold blood didn't fit within those limits, no matter what the reason. Just as Alice had been unable to break the rules that bound her by giving Chloe an angel's kiss, he was unable to slay an innocent in cold blood. "All I can kill are rogue Calydons who are endangering innocents, and I can kill in self-defense. That's it, Alice, and I wouldn't violate that oath even if I could." He met her gaze. "Just as angels of life wield power of extraordinary means that could be abused with devastating consequences, so do the Order of the Blade members. There have to be lines we never cross."

She looked sharply at him, betrayal burning in those green eyes. "So, you won't help me? Really?"

He didn't want to disappoint her, but he knew there were limits to what he would do, and this was one of them. "I won't kill Catherine Taylor," he said. "I can't."

The anguish in her eyes was devastating, and Ian swore as he instinctively reached for her.

But Alice held up her hand to block him, and he stopped. She turned away, facing the front of the boat and cutting him off. Ian swore, his body starting to ache at the distance she was putting between them. But he knew it didn't matter what she did or how far she pushed him. He would not betray the oath he'd made to his family, to his father, and to the Order. It defined him, and it was what had made it possible to get through the last six hundred years.

There were no choices to be made.

So, what the hell happened now? What would happen when they got to Cardiff's? Were they still on the same team, or had he just acquired another enemy? He swore and thudded his fist into his hand. What next?