“Let me get this straight.” I looked around the library, where dragons and witches were gathered. If anyone had ever told me we’d be working together like this one day, I would’ve told them they were daft. Or worse.

Iris lifted an eyebrow. “Go on.”

I tilted my head to the side to get a better look at the symbols in the book. Faded, all of them, some more so than others. How Electra and Iris hadn’t gone blind yet was a mystery, as they’d spent hours poring over the books, even while Dallas and the others were still halfway down the mountain.

No wonder they both seemed to be in poor spirits. Then again, Iris generally had a chip on her shoulder.

With this in mind, I chose my words carefully. “You told us the runes lay out a story of the witches running from those who wished them harm. They were in danger; they were being burned and otherwise murdered. They had no home.”

“That’s right,” Electra agreed. She looked exhausted, the circles underneath her eyes pronounced after so many hours of studying. At least Pierce and the other dragons who called this particular mountain home had placed extra lamps around the room, so the witches could read more easily.

“They owned treasure which they needed to store someplace.”

“Also right.” Iris rubbed a hand over the top of her head. “It doesn’t say anything about what the treasure was, not specifically. And that’s as far as we’ve gotten up to this point. But we know there was a treasure, and they needed help with it. As well as help in keeping themselves safe from those who would do them harm.”

Hecate leaned over the thick tome with its time-weathered pages, so delicate and thin. “I always wondered about the history of those in the coven which left for the New World. We lost all contact with them and have no record of where they went or what they did after arriving here.”

“Now we know—to a degree,” Callie murmured, sounding mournful. “Poor things. Our sisters, all of them, and they suffered so.”

“You’ve made a great deal of progress.” Hecate beamed. “I’m really proud of you. I know Mother would be, too.”

“I still don’t understand how you can possibly understand this. ‘Tis nothing but a bunch of symbols.” I tilted my head this way and that, studying them.

“No written language is anything other than a bunch of symbols.” Iris smiled. “You do know that, don’t you? The only difference is you were taught to read English.”

“And Gaelic,” Dallas added.

“All right, all right. I give.” I turned away from the book. “What’s next?”

“We keep studying.” Hecate put a hand on Iris’s shoulder and squeezed. “You need the break, and I feel like I’ve been slacking on the work that needs to be done.”

“You were trapped in the storm,” Iris reminded her. “I would hardly call that slacking. If you were sheltering in a fabulous hotel…”

“The last time I checked, there aren’t any such places along the mountainside. Though we did find a cave. Not quite the same.” She kissed Iris’s cheek. “Go rest. You too, Electra. Your eyes will cross soon if you don’t take a break.”

This left me with Dallas, Hecate, and Calliope. The witches exchanged a look. “I suppose this means we’d better get to work.” Callie shrugged. “It’s why we came, after all.”

“You need more rest, too.”

“No, I don’t. Remember? I’m practically healed, and my energy is already better now that I’ve eaten and slept. I feel much better.”

Hecate stroked her sister’s hair. “If you’re sure. I’ll shower and have something to eat, and then I’ll join you.”

I eyed Dallas. “What of yourself?” With his new mate working, he would be unable to engage in the sort of activity new mates normally busied themselves with. Something told me we might have interrupted them.

Well, we hadn’t been called across the ocean just to mate up and get tangled up in sheets together.

He shrugged. “I thought I might take a look at their communications setup. There’s always room to learn about new equipment.”

I’d already done so when we arrived, while he was busy falling in love with Hecate and sharing his blood with a wounded witch. “I might patrol a bit. Or do some exploring. Couldn’t do that during the storm, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Dallas grimaced. “The mountain did not look so lovely from our perspective.”

“I can’t imagine. We barely made it up, ourselves.” I had to get away from him. I could hardly stand looking upon him and Hecate after nearly killing them.

But Callie was the worst. It was Callie who might easily have died in the crash, who suffered crushing injuries as a result.

The guilt was enough to make me feel like I was choking. I’d paced the mouth of the cave nearly enough times to wear a groove in the earth, waiting for them to return. Every minute without them had been a minute closer to my breakdown.

“You can’t go looking for them,” Miles and Gate had warned when I’d decided to go after them. “Not in this storm. You could be killed out there.”

“What of them?” I’d demanded. They might have been killed, too, while the rest of us had waited in comfort and luxury.

“I can’t allow it,” Pierce had decided, standing between me and the world outside.

At that very moment, a towering pine had crashed to the ground and blocked the entrance to the mountain road. As if Mother Nature herself had stood against me.

None of them had understood, and I hoped none of them ever would. The sense of guilt crushing their chest, knowing their stupidity might lead to the deaths of those they were meant to protect. The desperation, the need to do something to help.

I needed to put them behind me for a while, if only while hiking the mountainside. There would still be downed trees in the way, but the skies were clear, and any wind was long gone. I was accustomed to walking the woods in the dark back home, and there was no reason to believe this would be any different.

The storm had passed a day earlier, and from the news reports Isla and Leslie had been watching that evening, it seemed no one was prepared for the force or longevity of the violent wind, rain, and hail. Homes and businesses in the valley were no more. Lives were lost. Flood waters were still receding.

“They weren’t calling for anything half as strong,” Isla had mused aloud. “I don’t understand. Do you think it has to do with us?”

Such a thing was impossible. Then again, our very existence was supposed to be impossible, as well, yet there we were.

Could Isla have a point? Did the storm occur because of our approach? The notion was laughable.

Why, then, was I not laughing? I wasn’t in a laughing mood, I supposed, as I walked the length of the long tunnel which wound its way around the inside of the mountain, the floor slanting so gently that it was easy to forget one was climbing out of a cave.

Then again, the cave itself was equipped well enough to make one forget they were in a cave at all. Even more so than the one I’d spent my entire life in, which I’d had a hand in updating with the latest technology.

Pierce and his group had outdone us. Just another reason for me to feel I was about to crawl out of my skin. Nothing about this trip had left me with anything but a sour taste in my mouth and a pit in my stomach.

Not that we’d flown across the ocean for the sake of a holiday. Not that I’d expected to enjoy myself. We were here to protect the witches, who were here to translate the runes. Nothing more.

Though I’d be doing quite a bit of updating to the security system when we returned home, for certain.

The first breath of fresh air upon stepping out into the dark, damp night was like heaven.

I’d always preferred the out-of-doors, away from recycled air and fluorescent lighting. Filling my lungs, I looked about and found most of the valley at the foot of the mountain chain was dark. They were still without power, poor humans. The generators that kept the cave powered were running smoothly, and praise be for that.

I could almost imagine, looking down at the scant smattering of lights below, that we had stepped well back in time. To a time when the area was sparsely populated, and the dragons lived in greater solitude than during the present day.

We’d lived that way in Scotland, sure enough, but modern times had crowded in, along with enough humans to fill Edinburgh and the surrounding area to bursting. We were still well away from there, but it seemed they crept closer with each passing year. So long as the coven managed to fortify the spells cast on the surrounding wood, we’d be safe.

What of this mountain, however, and this branch of the clan? What was still keeping humans away? I knew they hunted here from time to time, but none of them drew near enough to the peak to pose a threat. At least, not according to Fence, who’d given me the rundown on their patrol habits.

Fence was currently in the sky, somewhere overhead, circling, watching. I couldn’t see him, but I heard the flapping of his wings. It was almost comforting. I’d heard it my entire life, after all.

Over a thousand years.

I hadn’t flown about yet, and, in fact, felt the need to.

The thought of volunteering to patrol had crossed my mind, as I needed something to occupy my mind, and taking flight had always gone a long way toward easing any mental or physical distress I happened to be struggling with.

There was nothing stopping me, now that Dallas had returned. I had nothing holding me in place. I could shift anytime I wished and take flight over the mountain peak, where none below would be able to see me. Just the same as it had always been.

Anything to get away from the guilt. I had almost killed them all. I was the responsible one. None of them appeared to hold it against me, yet there was no telling their private thoughts.

My dragon sensed discord, though. Whether it was of my own creation or no was still up for question.

I looked down the mountain, into the darkness.

And saw a light.

At first, I was certain I’d imagined it. No one in their right mind would venture up there after a storm like the one we’d just lived through. Besides, I very much had the sense that most people around those parts would have been too concerned with rebuilding to spend time camping.

Then, I saw it again. A flash, brighter this time. Like the light from a fire, but one that was small and contained. A campfire. What in the name of everything was a person doing out on a night such as this?

What if they were trapped somehow? Unable to make their way down because of the damage?

I started toward the fire, careful to keep my footing on the rain-soaked ground. A human would have found himself hopelessly mud-slicked by the time he took a dozen steps, but that was not the case for one with my coordination and reflexes.

All the while, I kept the fire in my sights—along with the understanding that whoever happened to be there might be foe rather than friend. Not that I couldn’t handle all comers.

So long as they didn’t carry automatic weapons. How long would it be before I managed to forget that bloody, horrific day?

The wind blew in my direction and carried with it the scent of a human female. Female? A woman? What was she doing out here? I moved with greater confidence once I was certain she was alone and only her scent was on the air.

The fire was a modest one, yet it provided enough light that I could see her.

Short, at least compared to me, with a lean build. She wore traditional outdoor clothing: cargo pants, hiking boots, a thermal shirt beneath a bright green down vest. Long, dark hair in a ponytail. Her posture did not give the impression of fear or uncertainty. She was accustomed to the outdoors, even in such conditions.

I moved as silently as possible, all but holding my breath to keep from being detected. If she was in danger, there would be no choice but to offer help—but it might put the rest of us in an awkward position. How would I explain my presence?

I barely had the time to form the question in my mind before she shot up from the log she’d been using as a seat and whirled on me.

In her hands was a pickaxe which she held poised over one shoulder.

“Okay, buddy,” she spat. “What do you think you’re doing here, and what gives you the right to sneak up on me like that?”