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Authors: Kresley Cole

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The line went dead.

17

“Y
our brother's in Louisiana, my liege.”

Lachlain's fingers paused on the last button of his shirt.
“Louisiana?”
After a quick shower to wash away evidence of the fight, Lachlain had called Harmann back to his room and asked where Garreth was.
Of all the places in the world.
“What in the hell is he doing there?”

“Louisiana is packed with the Lore, and many Lykae live there now. I'd say half your number reside in Canada and the United States. Most in Nova Scotia, but with a number farther south.”

This news bitterly disappointed Lachlain. “Why did they leave their homes?” he asked, taking a seat near the balcony. A breeze blew in, smelling of the forest and of the sea that abutted his land miles and miles away. He was actually in the Highlands, looking out over the grounds of Kinevane. With his mate in their bed.

Harmann pulled up a chair as well, shifting into his normal shape, that of a behorned, large-eared Ostrander demon, so named for his extended Ostrander family. “When the clan thought the vampires had killed you, many refused to stay so close to their kingdom in Russia. Your brother assisted them with the journey, then stayed on in New Orleans to help them rebuild what they could.”

“New Orleans?” This just got better and better. “Can you no' contact him? It so happens that I've got a coven of Valkyrie, in
New Orleans,
intent on peeling my family.” And Garreth was the last member of his immediate family still living. Demestriu had seen to that—Lachlain's father dead in the last Accession, his mother dying of grief, and his youngest brother, Heath, setting out to avenge them all . . . .

“Valkyrie?” Harmann frowned. “Dare I ask?” When Lachlain shook his head, Harmann said, “Garreth made me vow to contact him the minute I learned anything of you. He was . . . well, he didn't take the news of your presumed death as we'd hoped, especially after losing so many of his . . . of your . . .” He trailed off, then said, “So, of course, I tried to reach him as soon as I closed the gate behind you. But I was told he's gone off by himself for a few days.”

Lachlain had a flash of worry for Garreth, being alone and unwarned.
Hunting for Celts' pelts
. No. No way could they catch him. Garreth was as wily as he was fierce.

“It's imperative that I find him. Keep trying.” His brother was the only one he would trust to protect Emma while Lachlain went to mete out his revenge. “I want all the information you've accumulated on the Horde since I've been gone, and anything we might have on the Valkyrie. I want any media that will help me acclimate to this time. And keep my return secret from the elders for now. Only my brother knows.”

“Aye, of course, but may I ask what you mean by acclimating to this time? Where have you been?”

Lachlain hesitated, then admitted, “In the fire.” There was no need to describe the catacombs. He could never convey how horrific it was.

Harmann's ears flattened, and as often happened when he was distressed, the last shape he'd shifted into wavered
over him. For a moment he looked like the young human male he'd presented to Emma before he returned to his wiry, demon frame. “B-but that's just a rumor they spread.”

“It's true, and I'll tell you of it another time. Right now, I canna think of it. I've got only four days, four
nights,
to convince Emma to stay with me.”

“She doesn't want to stay?”

“No, no' at all.” A vague memory of her trembling in the shower, eyes squeezed shut to what he was doing to her, flashed into his mind. His claws sank into his palms. “I have no' been . . . good to her.”

“Does she know how long you've waited?”

“She does no' even know she's my mate.”

Time was dwindling. Lachlain would need her so badly with the coming full moon. He knew about the effect it had on any Lykae who'd found his mate. Lachlain figured if he hadn't scared her away by then, he certainly would on that night, unless she was more used to him.

And no longer virgin. He would never have thought he would be so dismayed to find out his mate was untouched. Emma was so soft and gentle, and the thought of spilling her virgin's blood when she was still healing and he was in the grip of the moon horrified him.

Soon the elders would descend upon Kinevane with their hatred toward her undisguised. He and Emma had to be joined by then. She had to be marked by him so they knew they couldn't harm her.

Yet how could he expect her to face these things with him when he hadn't begun to make up for all that he'd done to her? “I want you to find everything a twenty-four-year-old female would desire in her home—anything that would appeal to her.”

If she was truly part Valkyrie, and the rumors of their acquisitiveness were true, then perhaps she could be softened with gifts. Hadn't she been intent on getting to her jewelry? He could give her a new piece every day for decades.

When Harmann picked up the clipboard and pen he always carried, Lachlain said, “Study her clothing and buy her more in similar sizes and styles. Replace anything that has been damaged.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck, thinking of all he had to do. “She must be protected from the sun.”

“Aye, I thought of that. The drapes in your rooms are thick and will suffice for now, but perhaps shutters? That automatically open at sunset and close at sunrise.”

“Get them installed—” Lachlain broke off and did a double take. “Automatic?” At Harmann's nod, Lachlain said, “Aye, then, as soon as possible. I want every window in Kinevane protected, and have porticos built over all exposed doorways.”

“We'll begin work on it in the morn.”

“And her music player, her . . .
iPod
? The vampires destroyed it. She needs a new one—truly needs it. In fact, she seems to like all the things of this time, gadgets, electronic objects. I saw you'd modernized my rooms. The rest of the castle—”

“Is completely modernized. I've retained the full staff here, from cook to maid to guard, and we've kept Kinevane ready in case of your or your brother's return.”

“Keep only the most trusted servants on, and tell them who and what she is. Also inform them of what I will do if she is harmed in any way.”

Lachlain must have begun to turn at the idea of her being hurt, because Harmann stared, then coughed into his hand. “O-of course.”

After an inward shake, Lachlain said, “Are there any
vulnerabilities I should know about? Anything concerning finances or encroachment?”

“You're richer than you were before. Exponentially. This land is still protected and hidden.”

He exhaled with relief. Lachlain couldn't have found better than Harmann. He was honest and clever, especially with humans, using his shape-shifting abilities to appear to grow old around them. “I appreciate all you've done,” Lachlain said—an understatement, for his home and his wealth had all been protected by this being. As always, Lachlain found it ridiculous that shifters were plagued with a reputation for dishonesty, called “two-faced” as an insult for so long that the term had finally migrated to the humans. “I owe you much.”

“You've given me generous cost-of-living-index raises,” Harmann said with a grin, then tilted his head at Emma. “The little one—she's truly a
vampire
?”

Lachlain crossed to her and tucked a blond curl behind her ear. “Half-Valkyrie.”

Harmann raised his eyebrows at her pointed ear. “You never did like to do things the easy way.”

*  *  *

Car alarms still resounded from miles away.

Though Annika had finally been calmed and the lightning that threatened to rupture the manor had quieted, that
thing
still had her Emma.

She tried to shake the rage free—vomiting energy as she had was only harming the entire collective of Valkyrie who shared power, a dozen of whom sat together right now in this great room. They looked to her for answers she would have to give. Answers Furie should be here to supply.

Regin was back on the computer, accessing the coven's database once more, this time researching this Lachlain.

Impatiently pacing, Annika let her mind wander to the day that Emma had first arrived. The snow outside had been packed so high it covered half the window. Not surprising, in the old country. By the fire, Annika had cradled the baby, falling each second for the golden-haired girl with her tiny pointed ears.

“How are we to care for her, Annika?” Lucia had murmured.

Regin had sprung from her seat on the mantel to snap, “How can you bring one of those among us when they slaughtered my people?”

Daniela had knelt beside Annika, peering up at her, giving her a rare touch—and the stinging of ice from her pale hand. “She needs to be with her own kind. I know this well.”

Annika had shaken her head determinedly. “Her ears. Her eyes. She's fey. She's Valkyrie.”

“She'll grow to be evil!” Regin had insisted. “Damn if she hasn't snapped at me with her baby fangs. By Freya, she already drinks blood!”

“Trifling,” Myst had interjected in a casual tone. “We eat electricity.”

The baby had clutched Annika's long braid, as if saying she wanted to stay. “She was Helen's, whom I loved dearly. And her letter begged me to keep Emmaline from the vampires. So I am raising her and will leave the coven if that is your collective wish, but understand—she is as my daughter from now on.” She remembered how sad her next words had sounded. “I will guide her to be all that was good and honorable about the Valkyrie before time eroded us. She will never see the horrors we have. She will be protected.” They'd all quieted, reflecting. “Emmaline of Troy.” She'd rubbed noses with Emma and asked the baby, “Now, where's the best place to hide the most beautiful little vampire in the world?”

Nïx had laughed delightedly.
“Laissez les bon temps roulez . . . .”

“Okay, here it is!” Regin said. “Lachlain, king of the Lykae, disappeared for two centuries or so. I'm just going to update the database and say that apparently he's back at the desk.” She scrolled down. “Brave and vicious on the battlefield, and he appears to be in
every
battle the Lykae ever engaged. What was he doing? Trying to earn merit badges? And, uh-oh, careful, ladies, this big boy fights dirty. He'd just as soon end a sword fight with his fists and claws, and hand-to-hand with his fangs.”

“What about his family?” Annika asked. “What does he care for that we can use?”

“He doesn't have much of a family left. Damn. Demestriu killed them all.”

When she paused, continuing to read, Annika waved her on, until Regin exclaimed, “Ooh, the chicks in the New Zealand coven are
evil.
They've noted here that though they haven't engaged him, they've seen him fight vampires, and barbs about his family will make him go mindless with rage, making him easier prey for a skilled killer.”

Kaderin laid one of her swords flat in her lap, her diamond hone file finally at rest. “He's hurt her, then. If he thought she was one of the Horde.”

Regin said, “He'd had no idea she was a Valkyrie. She must be trying to protect us. Boneheaded little leech.”

Lucia murmured, “Can you imagine how utterly terrified she must be?”

Nïx sighed. “The Saints aren't going to make it to the playoffs.”

Gentle, fearful Emma, in the hands of an animal . . . Annika clenched her fists and two of the lamps closest to her—just
fixed along with the chimney by a Lore contractor today—burst, shattering glass twelve feet into the air. Valkyrie in the way casually sidestepped or lowered their faces, then shook out their hair and resumed whatever they'd been doing.

Not looking up from the screen, Regin said, “It's the Accession putting all these pieces into play. It's got to be.”

Annika knew it was so. A protracted imprisonment had just ended for the Lykae king. Kristoff, the rebel vampire leader, had taken a Horde stronghold just five years ago and was dispatching soldiers to America. And the ghouls, led by a fierce and occasionally lucid leader, had begun making a power play by infecting as many people as possible to build their army.

Annika crossed to the window and looked out into the night. “You said Lachlain didn't have much of a family. Then who?”

Regin put a pencil behind her ear. “He's got one younger brother left. Garreth.”

“How do we find this Garreth?”

Nïx clapped her hands. “I know this one! I know this one! Ask . . .
Lucia
!”

Lucia looked up sharply and hissed at Nïx, but there was no true venom behind it. She answered in a monotone, “He's the Lykae who saved our lives two nights ago.”

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