by Susan Illene
He’d gotten tired of trudging through the snow and taken to flying in the sky—invisibly, of course—since we left the village. It had given me a break from his incessant complaining so I hadn’t minded.
“No, we can’t just leave him.”
“What are these two doing here?” the guardian asked, giving both men a disdainful look.
“Apparently they felt like taking a walk through the woods with us.”
He shook his head. “Earth races are strange.”
“We are here because we’ve located the whereabouts of your father,” Yerik said, glancing down at me.
I came to a standstill. “Where?”
“He has set up a hideout for his group in Indiana. My spy says he and most of his people are away at the moment, but they should return by the end of the week.”
A thrill ran through me. After all these months, we finally had a lead on my father. I could confront him and take him down for good.
“Who is your spy?” I asked.
“Honor,” he paused. “I believe you met her when you fought to regain Fairbanks last year.”
He didn’t make that clarification for my benefit. Lucas didn’t know Honor had been the one to introduce me to Yerik in New Orleans or that we’d been making plans behind his back. Plans that involved revealing supernaturals to the world and invading Purgatory to rescue the nerou who’d been trapped there since they were children.
Micah was part of the plan as well and was working behind the scenes to get things ready. I wished we could tell Lucas his brother was safe, but the archangel Remiel watched him too closely. Unlike Ariel, who was helping us, Remiel would put a stop to the plans. It was why they were forcing me to keep secrets from the man I loved. They needed my cooperation because only I could lead them to the nerou in Purgatory quickly once we broke in there.
“Yes, I remember Honor.”
I started walking again in the hopes it would push away the tightness in my chest. Keeping things from Lucas wasn’t easy.
“It took some time,” Yerik continued, “but she has managed to infiltrate Jerome’s group and has been with them for almost a month now. Unfortunately, she couldn’t get away to report back to me until a few days ago.”
I hurried up the pace, wanting to get the troll mission over with. “Any idea what they are up to?”
“No.” Yerik’s lips thinned. “Honor hasn’t fully gained his trust yet and they’ve restricted her movements. She fears whatever they are doing, it could be worse than anything they’ve done yet.”
“We’re going to have to be extra vigilant,” Lucas said.
Kerbasi gave me a pat on the back. “At least we know where you got your evil ways from.”
“Shut up, guardian.” I elbowed him in the ribs.
He grunted. “My point is proven.”
In the cold light of day, I could finally see the troll up ahead through a break in the trees. As Kerbasi had described, he was walking around in circles. No wonder the trail had meandered so much.
The sick feeling in my stomach grew stronger with each step. I’d thought it was a combination of the troll’s aura and my dislike for lying to Lucas, but now that we’d gotten closer I realized it was much worse than that. Sometimes it was aggravating that the elements of a spell didn’t come to me until I was near it—such as now.
“Sable, go back to the Jeep,” I ordered.
The cat cocked her head at me.
“Go!”
She still hesitated for a second, but she took off.
“What’s wrong?” Lucas asked.
“The troll is sick and whatever he has can be passed to any fae.”
That made it almost worse than the werewolf version since the fae were made up of multiple races. This strain of the illness could be passed to any one of them including trolls, fairies, pixies, and my shape-shifter cat. I had to hope Sable hadn’t picked up anything from the ground.
Yerik’s brows drew together. “What are you talking about?”
“There was a case earlier this morning. We found a werewolf who was sick with something we’d never seen before. It was clear he was suffering and wouldn’t live long so Derrick put him out of his misery.”
Lucas put a hand on my arm. “Werewolves don’t get ill enough to die.”
“They do now,” Kerbasi said, flashing his teeth.
I gave him a disgusted look and turned my attention back to Lucas. “I’d planned to call and tell you, but I got sidetracked by the missing troll. Whatever illness this is, it’s been enhanced with demon magic so it targets certain supernatural races. I guess whoever is spreading it wants the fae taken out, too.”
“Demon magic?” Lucas asked.
“Yes,” I answered, stopping about twenty feet away from Bambi’s husband. “Though I have no idea why demons would target supernaturals or how they got to Earth to do it.”
They had to be summoned and most required a host body to possess—preferably one with a weak mind. Plus only humans could perform the ritual, which ruled out most suspects unless…
“Hey, is it possible Jerome and his group could be causing this?” My father enlisted the aid of humans before to bring demons to Earth, but that had been for an entirely different purpose.
Yerik scratched at his beard. “It’s doubtful. Honor would have told me if she sensed a demon, but it would be wise not to rule anything out.”
Exactly. I couldn’t put anything past my father. Plus the fact that the disease couldn’t affect sensors or humans looked rather damning. It’s how he’d want it manufactured.
“Do you have any idea what the disease is?” he asked, narrowing his gaze at the troll.
“No. It has to be naturally occurring or my senses would tell me. Paula is working to figure it out now.”
“Over the hill and through the woods to grandmother’s house we go…” Bambi’s husband carried on as I got my first good look at him.
The troll—who couldn’t have been taller than four feet—was not only walking around in circles but singing as well. He must have become delirious, though with his race that kind of behavior could be seen as normal. There was sweat on his brow and his dark hair was plastered to his oversized head. I thought I could make out some redness and swelling around his neck, but it was hard to tell through the layers of dirt that covered his skin.
“Well, we’ve got to figure out how to round this guy up and get him to Paula’s place. He’s not as bad off as the werewolf so maybe she can figure out a way to help him.”
And where had this guy contracted it? Trolls didn’t travel much and I was sure this one hadn’t left the area anytime recently. He had to have caught it in or around Fairbanks, but how?
Yerik sighed. “I suppose I could take him. If this is the second case in one day, it could turn into an epidemic.”
“Have you guys ever seen anything like it?” I glanced between him and Lucas. They’d been around long enough that if it had happened before they’d have surely seen it.
Lucas frowned at the troll. “It is difficult to tell by looking at this one, but I do not recall anything similar.”
Yerik used magic to freeze the man and stepped closer to examine him. He made a full circle around the troll and studied his swollen neck and the black dots on his nose and fingernails. If I hadn’t known the troll was sick, I might have thought it dirt or ash he’d gotten into.
“There have been a couple of outbreaks among the mortal supernatural races in the past that have been deadly,” Yerik said, turning away from the troll. “But I recall little of the details. It’s been many centuries since something like this has occurred. I’d have to check my journals.”
“You keep journals?” I asked.
“Of course. When you live as long as I have, it’s easy to forget things after a while. Even immortal minds aren’t perfect and we have far more memories to fill our heads.”
“Right. I guess I’ll have to remember that.” I nodded at the troll. “So you’ll take care
of this guy?”
“Not without some reservations, but yes, I’ll see to it he gets to Paula’s house. We can meet at your place after that. There is a lot to discuss.”
At least the daimoun was proving useful—whether I liked him or not.
Chapter Five
Lucas
He loved watching her. Melena had always been beautiful, but immortality had given her grace and a subtle power that drew him even more. It was in the glow of her fair skin and the sparkle of her blue eyes. After the ill way he’d treated her for years it still amazed him he’d won her over. During a time when they’d been hunting demons.
Now they may have to hunt them again.
Lucas leaned against the door frame, fresh from a shower in the other bathroom. He’d put on a clean pair of pants and a blue button-up shirt before coming to check on Melena. She had insisted he wash immediately after they arrived at their house. Even going so far as to spray sanitizer on the wood floors where they walked.
As a man who had been immortal for his entire life he’d never concerned himself with germs or disease all that much. It amused him to watch her react so strongly to something that could affect neither them nor Emily.
“I hope Sable doesn’t get sick from the troll,” Melena said, glancing up at him with a worried expression.
She continued rubbing the yowling cat with a towel. Sable’s paws failed to gain traction on the tile as she attempted to escape Melena’s grasp. The shape-shifter hadn’t gone near the troll. Lucas doubted Melena had anything to worry about, but it was hardly his area of expertise. His twin brother might have known more—if he wasn’t missing.
“You washed her with an entire bottle of antibacterial soap,” Lucas said, nodding at the empty container. “I’m more concerned with her getting sick from that.”
“And I’m going to put flea powder on her later in case she picked up any in the troll village.” Melena swiped away an errant strand of wet hair from her face. “Did you put our clothes in the washer?”
“Yes.”
If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was trying to domesticate him.
“We should have boiled them.” She let Sable go and stood as the cat raced past his legs.
There was only a towel wrapped around her. What would she do if he ripped it off?
He adjusted his pants. It had been too long since they’d last been together. “You are being over-cautious.”
Perhaps he shouldn’t have gotten dressed again after his shower, but he’d assumed Yerik would have arrived by now.
“The disease affecting the troll was spelled to target fae. I can’t take any chances with her.” Melena moved to the sink and grabbed her brush.
He took it from her and ran it through her long auburn hair. There were few opportunities to touch the silky locks since he was gone far more often than not. He didn’t want to miss his chance. It wasn’t easy staying away from her while he searched for his brother. Lucas regularly struggled with where he should focus his attention, but his brother had watched over Melena while he was confined in Purgatory. He owed it to Micah to find him.
“Two cases of the plague do not make for an outbreak. I saw no sign of anyone getting sick elsewhere,” he said, speaking close to her ear.
She leaned into his chest. “Maybe it’s just Fairbanks. We’ll have to hear what Paula thinks.”
“Perhaps in the meantime…” he began, setting the brush down and kissing her neck.
She stiffened. “Yerik’s here. He’s in the living room.”
Lucas swore under his breath. Couldn’t the daimoun have taken a little longer?
“He can wait.”
Lucas trailed a finger down her bare arm.
“No, he can’t.” She turned around and looked up at him. “We need to discuss my father and how to take him down.”
The tiny freckles on her cheeks stood out against her pale skin. She’d spent too much time in Alaska and had lost all signs of a tan. Once he found his brother he planned to take her places—ones with plenty of sun and warmth. He’d also enjoy seeing her in a bathing suit.
“Very well, we shall speak with him,” Lucas replied, stepping away.
“You go talk to him. I’ll meet you guys down there in a minute after I get dressed.”
“Is that an order?” Lucas lifted a brow.
She gave him an imperious look. “Yes.”
Melena was the only woman on this Earth who could give him an order and he’d consider obeying it.
“Very well.”
He ripped the towel off of her and took it with him as he left the bathroom. He couldn’t allow her to believe there weren’t consequences to ordering him around. She might think he’d gone soft.
“Lucas!” she squealed.
He flashed away before she could attempt to take it from him. A naked Melena wrestling him for a towel would tax even his mighty discipline. If Lucas got hold of her Yerik would have a long wait before seeing them.
He reappeared in the living room a moment later and tossed the towel onto the back of a chair. Yerik gave him a questioning glance, but didn’t ask. The daimoun wasn’t wearing his kilt anymore and had changed into jeans and a black t-shirt. He’d even shaved.
“You didn’t travel to Scotland, did you?” Lucas asked.
That was where Yerik’s mate lived and it would require little of the daimoun’s power to go there—though it would nearly sap Lucas dry to do the same from Alaska.
“Hardly,” the daimoun replied, stretching an arm across the couch. “Paula insisted I wash up and let her sterilize my garments, which required me to find something else to wear. She fears the worst with that disease going around.”
Lucas took a seat on the coffee-colored leather sofa across from Yerik. “Does she have any idea what the ailment might be?”
His expression darkened. “The plague.”
“Is she certain?”
Yerik shrugged. “Not yet, but all the symptoms point to it. She’s running tests to be sure.”
Lucas wished once again his brother was here. He would be more familiar with the disease. Most immortals didn’t bother to study such things since nothing could affect them, but Micah enjoyed those sorts of pursuits. He damned Zoe for the thousandth time. If only the bitch could have left well enough alone and not taken Micah. He’d love to give her the plague if it were possible.
“Is there a cure for it?” Lucas asked.
“She says there is medicine for humans that works most of the time if caught soon enough, but this is a more virulent form. It’s too early to tell if antibiotics will help.” He looked out the window. “We can’t afford for this to be happening right now.”
Lucas was rather certain it was never a good time for the plague. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” Yerik shook his head. “Ignore the meanderings of an old man.”
One who looked no older than Lucas, but he understood the point.
“What about a vaccination?” He might not keep up with human ailments much, but he knew the plague still occurred in the world. One would think the humans would have come up something to prevent it by now.
“There are a couple options out there, but the results have been mixed. Between this being a different strain and supernatural immune systems working differently Paula doubts the available immunizations will do any good. We’re going to have to make our own and that will take time.”
“How long?” Lucas asked.
“Possibly years.”
He turned at the sound of footsteps approaching.
“Oh, good. You changed out of that kilt,” Melena said, coming into the room. “Every time I see you it feels like I just stepped into a Highland romance novel.”
“A what?” Yerik glanced at Lucas.
He shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Never mind.” She waved a dismissive hand. “So is there nothing else Paula can do?”
It was easy to forget Melena had heightened hearing now. She
would have heard every word they said from upstairs. He liked her being stronger and more capable, but it would take time to get used to it.
“There’s not much more she can do at the moment,” Yerik replied, “but I’m checking into it. In one of my journals I’d written briefly about a previous instance. There was some talk back in the 1300s of a plague spreading among the supernatural races in Europe and parts of Asia, but I was away at the time and missed it.”
Melena looked at Lucas. “Do you remember anything?”
“I slept through most of that century,” he replied, truthfully.
She cracked a smile. He could almost see the old immortal jokes running through her mind. Lucas gave her a look that dared her to say any of them. She moved over to sit next to him on the sofa and patted his knee.
“It’s good to know you sleep sometimes. I imagine at your age you need a lot of naps.”
He took hold of her chin and tilted it toward him. “Keep it up, sensor, and we’ll see who has the greater endurance.”
Yerik cleared his throat. “As much as I’d love to watch this play out, we do have more important things to discuss.”
Of course. It was easy for Lucas to get distracted around her. He never would have admitted it a few years ago, but she’d always done that to him—stolen all his attention to the exclusion of everything else. Even when he’d believed he hated her.
“So where is my father’s hideout?” Melena asked, looking to the daimoun.
“He’s leased a handful of warehouses in a suburb near Indianapolis. The property has a fence around it with a gate, but that should be easy enough to break past. Only his group is using the facilities so we shouldn’t have to worry about any humans coming to harm as long as we keep the battle contained.”
“Good.” She drummed her fingers on Lucas’ leg. “Is there any chance we can get photos of the place? Maybe a layout? It would help with planning our strategy.”
“Let me worry about that. I’ll tell you when it comes time to attack.”
Melena stiffened. “No. I need to be the one planning this. It’s my father’s group and there’s no way I’m risking something going wrong.”
Lucas should have known she’d want to take control. Not that it mattered. He couldn’t imagine Yerik ever letting someone as young and inexperienced as Melena strategize an attack of this importance. Lucas wasn’t sure he’d let her do it if it were his decision. She wasn’t the only one seeking revenge against the group.