This was too real.

Definitely not just an illusion—the castle had come alive.

Pain sang through my middle as I bounced along, thrown over someone’s shoulder. I was being carried like this far too often lately.

I blinked, trying to clear my blurry vision and make out what was going on.

Everyone was dressed in old-style clothes. Like, really old style. But unlike the ghostly girl at the pub in Plymouth, these folks looked as real as me or Roarke. And they all smelled. Bad.

Where was Roarke?

I craned my neck, peering around, but the movement felt so slow and awkward, almost like I was underwater. Finally, I found him. Four men were carrying him, and still they struggled. Roarke was out cold, but he was a big guy.

Before I could formulate a plan, the man carrying me stopped abruptly next to a stone wall. A door creaked open, and suddenly I was flying. I slammed to the hard ground, knocking my head against stone.

The four men dragged Roarke inside. Before I could make it to my feet, a heavy wooden door closed, locking us in darkness. The air smelled stale, like this room wasn’t used often.

“Roarke!” I hissed as I wobbled to my knees.

The potion had me woozy, but I staggered toward him. When I bumped into his solid body, I finally had the presence of mind to raise my hand and ignite the lightstone ring that I wore.

The golden glow illuminated Roarke’s still face and the powdery potion in his hair. My heart thundered, and worry made my breath come short as I tried to brush the powder out of his dark locks.

“Wake up!” I shook his shoulder, still seeing double myself. This damned potion was strong.

Eventually, his eyes cracked open and he groaned, then sat upright. He loomed over me, and I reached up to pat his cheeks.

“Wake up, big guy.”

He blinked, his gaze finally focusing on me. It sharpened almost immediately as he threw off the effects of the potion.

“Where are we?” he demanded.

“Locked up. No windows.” I shined the light around the room, revealing a small square space with one door. There was nothing else in the room, but there was a strange sense of residual magic with a thousand different signatures that I couldn’t identify. Like potions had once been stored here.

“So this wasn’t just an illusion,” Roarke said.

“Nope. The place came alive.”

“That’s a strong enchantment.”

“Damned good hiding place for the demon. He’s got his own security force and everything.”

Roarke nodded and stood, then stalked the room, searching the walls and finally the door.

“We’re stuck.”

“Not for long.” He turned to me. “Try to figure out where the demon is. We need to head in the right direction when we get out of here.”

I nodded and sat down hard on my butt. I needed all the focus I could get since I was still a bit off from that potion bomb. Even standing wasn’t super easy at this point. As I drew a deep breath, I focused on keeping my magical signature repressed while I called upon my dragon sense.

It thrummed inside of me as I envisioned the Ubilaz demon’s ugly face, and I let my dragon sense roam. It tugged me from behind. And lower. Near sea level.

I opened my eyes and looked at Roarke, then pointed to the wall opposite the door. “He’s on the other side of this wall. Low, near the sea, I think. Though I’ve no idea why my seeker sense led me here instead of there.”

Roarke walked to the wall and pressed his palms to it. “This could be an exterior wall.”

“That makes sense. When we first arrived, I wasn’t sure the demon was even in the castle. But he could be on the other side. On that piece of protected land that jutted out into the sea.”

“Or down at sea level, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Give me a moment, and we’ll be out of here.”

“A castle this age, the walls are at least three feet thick and made of stone.”

“Not a problem.”

All right. I stepped back instinctually as black mist swirled around Roarke. When it faded, the dark demon stood with his back to me.

Up close, I could see that his wings were a million shades of gray and black, shimmering in the glow of my lightstone ring. Really pretty, actually.

He reached up and gripped the stones like one would grip elevator doors to pry them open. A second later, there was an explosion of rock as he tore his way through the stone wall.

“Whoa.” I stared, wide-eyed, at the gaping hole in the wall.

In the distance, the black ocean roiled on the other side. He’d been right. This was an exterior wall built along the cliff.

I approached slowly and peered left and right. In both directions, the castle’s outer wall was built up directly from the cliffside, which plunged into the sea below. When I peered down at the waves crashing into the rocks, I caught sight of notches in the stone wall. Like a narrow staircase.

My dragon sense pulled hard, indicating that the Ubilaz demon was at sea level.

The only way to access it was exactly the way that Roarke had—by blowing a hole in the castle wall. Maybe in present day, without the magic that had brought this place to life, this wall wasn’t even here.

“Go.” His voice was far deeper when he was in this form, like gravel scraping against gravel. “The noise may have alerted the guards.”

“Okay.” I climbed out the hole in the wall and stood at the precipice.

I knocked on my head, then made my way gingerly to the stairs that were carved into the cliffside. One wrong move and I’d be headed straight for the sea, going way too fast.

A door slammed, and I looked up, back into the room. Four figures streamed through the door.

“Go!” Roarke yelled. “I’ll hold them off.”

He grabbed one by the throat and threw him into the wall of the cell. Any hesitation I’d had about leaving him to fight four against one disappeared. He could handle himself, and someone needed to find this demon.

Anyway, Roarke could just fly out of there if he didn’t like the situation.

The wind whipped my hair around my face as I scrambled down the stairs as carefully as I could. I strained my ears to hear sounds of the battle above, but got only the sound of crashing waves. Wherever possible, I gripped stones that jutted out from the cliff wall. Dirt wedged under my fingernails as I clung on.

By the time I made it to the narrow beach at the bottom, I was sweating. My boots splashed in the waves, and I hopped off the step. Roarke landed next to me, looking scary as usual, but completely calm. The moonlight glinted off his shimmering gray skin.

Scratch that thought about him being scary. He was, but he also looked pretty damn good. In a monstery way.

Apparently I was weird.

“Get them?” I asked.

“Yes. And I rebuilt the wall. They won’t be able to follow for some time.” Golden light swirled around him, and he shifted back to his normal form. “Lead the way.”

I nodded, then followed the tug of my dragon sense along the beach. It was more of a narrow strip of pebbles than a beach. It wasn’t long before we turned a small corner in the cliff face. Ahead of us was the gaping mouth of an enormous cave, and my dragon sense went wild.

“Of course,” I muttered. “The demon is hiding out in the creepy cave.”

“He’ll know I’m after him. He’d want a good place to hide and a better place to defend. Be ready for him to have accumulated some demon followers.”

“Not many, I hope.”

“No, it hasn’t been long. There shouldn’t be many.”

Magic spilled from the cave mouth, seething and riotous. There were many signatures, both good and bad. The smell of grass, sulfur, rock, wind, cookies, and perfume all competed.

“There’s a lot of magic in there,” Roarke said. “Merlin’s Cave.”

“Merlin?”

He nodded. “Arthur was supposedly conceived at Tintagel. I’d heard there was a cave here called Merlin’s Cave. This must be it, considering the magic that surrounds the place.”

“Yep. I don’t like it.”

He grinned, then started forward. I followed. As we neared, the prickle of magic grew stronger.

“Protection charm,” I said.

When Roarke neared the mouth of the cave, he reached out, his face tightening as he did so. I’d bet being that close to the barrier was pretty uncomfortable.

“It’s penetrable,” he said. “Uncomfortable, but we can make it through.”

“You can’t break it?”

“It’s strange. I don’t think it will shatter like most charms.”

“So it’s meant to encourage you to stay out, not force you to.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then.” I gritted my teeth and started forward, pushing through the miserable feeling of the protection charm fighting me. Tiny knives stabbed me with every step, not leaving a mark but sure as heck feeling like they did.

As I entered the cave, the dim light of the moon faded almost entirely. I blinked as my vision adjusted and raised my lightstone ring.

It glowed, illuminating the huge space. The walls were uneven slabs of rock, with recessed, shadowed areas that made my muscles tighten. Wariness flooded me as Roarke stepped up beside me.

“I feel the demon,” I said. “Sort of. He’s near.”

“Perhaps—”

Roarke’s words were cut off as figures leapt from ledges and crevices of the walls—two, four, eight of them. More. Demons of all shapes and sizes

“Shit!” I drew my sword, fighting the urge to adopt my Phantom form.

Roarke’s magic swelled beside me as he shifted. He grew larger and stronger, his wings flaring wide at his back.

“Retreat,” he said. “I will handle them.”

“No!”

He pushed me backward, trying to force me to leave. I stumbled and hit a solid wall. My skin prickled fiercely. Surprise flared and I glanced behind me, expecting to see solid stone.

I saw nothing but the rolling ocean waves crashing on the beach outside the cave.

Shit. The protective barrier didn’t protect the cave from entry. It kept you inside.

My heart dropped to my feet. “It’s a trap.”

“Smart demon,” Roarke muttered.

In front of him, demons surged forward. I counted more than a dozen. Some wielded magic as glowing light in their palms, and others were armed with wicked looking weapons.

All looked ready for a fight.

“Party time,” I said.

Roarke turned and shot into the air, his wings carrying him toward the oncoming demons. He was massive and powerful as he grabbed two by their shirts and picked them up, then threw them into the walls of the cave as if they weighed nothing.

I charged, my sword at the ready. One of the demons hurled a fireball toward me. I ducked, lunging left as it hurtled past me. The heat seared my skin.

Damn. If I wasn’t careful, I’d get flamed.

The fire demons had skin of a burnished red, and their eyes were pits of flame. I leapt toward one, dodging the fireball that he threw, and sliced out with my sword.

It severed the demon’s neck, spraying me with blood. I gagged as the warm stuff hit my face and lunged toward another demon, severing its head. My borrowed blade felt awkward, but it was effective.

In the air, Roarke swooped and dodged, taking out demons left and right. I spotted another demon and raced for it, dodging the icicles that it threw. It was a pale, icy blue color, not unlike my Phantom form.

From the grin on its face, I could tell he was enjoying himself.

Freaking demons. I hated the things.

It danced backward, so I followed.

It drew back a massive arm, then hurled a spear of ice at me. I lunged to the side, but it threw another ice spear.

Damn, it was fast! I needed to shift into Phantom form, but Roarke would see.

I barely dodged the second icicle when the demon laughed and hurled a third. The projectile was nearly to me when a huge dark form swooped down and knocked it out of the air.

Roarke.

I surged to my feet and leapt toward the demon, swiping out with my sword. I cut through his waist, spraying blood, and he staggered, shock plain on his face. I lunged again, piercing his chest. I kicked him in the stomach to dislodge him from my blade and whirled at the sound of footsteps coming from behind me.

Two more demons charged, both armed with wicked serrated swords.

My favorite. I loved fighting sword to sword.

My mind cleared as they approached, the kind of eerie calm that was the product of years of practice. Whatever they were going to try, I’d seen it before.

“Careful!” Roarke yelled.

I laughed, and he growled in frustration.

The demons struck at the same time, one going low and the other high. The low one came sooner, so I leapt over his blade, then ducked under the blade that aimed for my neck. Their hisses filled my ears as I crouched and spun, sweeping out with my sword at shin level.

I sliced both their legs. As they staggered, I leapt up and finished the job with two well-placed slashes to their throats.

This time, I even managed to dodge some of the blood.

When I whirled to find more prey, I was feeling pretty good.

The sight of another dozen demons hopping off the walls of the cave wiped that feeling away real quick. Behind the horde surging toward me stood the Ubilaz demon, bigger and meaner looking than any of his minions.

The magic that swelled from him smelled like a garbage fire and made my stomach heave.

I swallowed bile and raced toward the oncoming wall of demons. In the air, Roarke destroyed a demon with his bare hands, then whirled and dove for the demons who charged me.

I’d nearly reached the closest demon when an unholy shriek sounded from behind me. It tugged at my memory, but before I could turn to see what had emitted the noise, something swept me up into the air.

The world turned a shimmery blue as I was lifted, spinning high into the cavern.

Panic closed my throat. What was happening? I could barely see. I was flying. I was lost.

I thrashed, trying to break the hold of whatever had caught me.

The sound of an unholy roar ripped through the cavern.

Roarke.

I screamed, trying to break free of the blue cloud that had enveloped me. But it was spinning faster and faster. I caught a glimpse of what looked like shimmery blue scales. Almost like dragon scales.

Magic trapped me. Magic that almost looked like a dragon, with fangs and brilliant blue eyes.

At the corner of my vision, I could barely see my arms, which began to slowly turn a transparent blue. Something tugged at my soul, a familiar sense.

No! I was being transported. While turning into a Phantom.

My heart thundered as I struggled, watching my arms fade even more. The tugging sensation grew as I spun and spun, like the magic was trying to pull me somewhere.

A powerful force sucked me into the ether and hurtled me through space. I crashed to the cold, wet ground a moment later. My head spun.

The blue light was gone. Darkness all around. Whatever force had thrown me here had disappeared as quickly as it’d come.

Where was I? I struggled to clear my mind, but it continued to whirl. My vision blackened entirely as I lay flat on my back, unable to banish the image of the blue force that had stolen me from the cave.

It’d been familiar. Strange, but familiar.

Memories dragged at me. I fought them, but a vision clouded my mind, sending me back in time to three months ago.

* * *

My deirfiúr and I were on an abandoned island off the coast of Scotland, fighting our way through a village to reach a huge manor house on the other side of town. The village was abandoned, full of creepy old houses that looked like the inhabitants had just walked out one day, leaving all their possessions behind. Magic seethed in the air. Wild, dark, scary magic that sent shivers across my spine.

As we crept through the empty streets, ghostly forms drifted from the walls of the houses.

Phantoms.

I shivered. I’d never seen a Phantom before—only heard of them from Cass. They were horrible creatures who fed on the misery of others. Their touch made you live your greatest fears. It was a terrible agony.

As they drifted out from the houses, the scene around us took on a haunted air. The sun had just dipped below the horizon so that the only light on the street came from the Phantoms’ ghostly blue glow. They crowded around us, dozens of them converging on the street.

“Hurry!” Cass yelled.

We needed to get past them.

But they barricaded the street, blocking our way. My heart thundered in my ears, my skin going chilly as we became prey. When one of them grabbed Nix, she shrieked in pain.

A Phantom dressed like a farmer swayed toward me. I swiped out with my blade, but it passed right through him. I tried again.

Nothing.

No!

We couldn’t fight them. Our weapons did nothing to their ghostly forms.

“We have to run through them!” Cass said.

“We can’t.” Aidan’s face was etched with pain. “It’ll tear us apart.”

The Phantoms surrounded us like a horde of zombies, their faces ravenous for misery and their claws outstretched. My deirfiúr’s faces were twisted with the agony of being near them, but I felt nothing. Why?

“Turn into a griffin!” Cass shouted.

“Can’t.” Aidan’s voice was tight with pain. “The Phantoms stop me.”

One reached out, snagging my shirt and pulling me into the crowd. Its arms wrapped around me, enveloping me fully.

It felt amazing.

Like coming home. Pleasure buzzed in my head, comfort and joy.

All around me, my friends cried out in fear and pain. But what were they complaining about? This felt great.

“No!” Cass screamed, lunging toward me.

My friends hacked at the Phantoms with their weapons, trying to free me from their grasp. Cass’s gaze was fixed on my chest, horrified.

I glanced down, my head woozy with pleasure. My chest was a transparent blue.

Shock snapped me out of my daze.

No! I didn’t want to be a Phantom. That was impossible! Terrible.

But my body had turned a silvery blue, and my sword glowed like cobalt flame.

My friends attacked the Phantoms that surrounded me, but their blades did nothing. The Phantoms were impervious. And more were converging on Nix, Cass, and Aidan. One of them grabbed Cass, and she shrieked in pain. They grabbed Nix and Aidan as well. Tears poured down Nix’s face.

These bastards wouldn’t take them, too!

Rage took over, clearing my confusion. I raised my fiery blue sword and sliced off the arm of a Phantom who held me. It howled, then collapsed.

My blade worked against them now!

It was in Phantom form, like me, and it made all the difference.

I whirled on the Phantoms surrounding me, slicing and jabbing. New speed and strength rushed through me as I cut down the monsters who had turned me into one of them. The Phantoms shrieked and fell.

I lunged for the one holding Nix, severing its ghostly head. Take that, you bastard.

With the heat of rage coursing through my veins, I plunged my sword into the shoulder of the Phantom who clutched Aidan, then jabbed at the side of the one who held Cass. It was surreal to watch my transparent blue arm and cobalt blade hack down the Phantoms.

“Run!” I screamed.

“Not without you!” Cass yelled.

“I’m coming.” I beheaded another Phantom. My friends were still human. I was the only one who could fight them. “Go!”

Indecision warred on Cass’s face, but she nodded sharply, then turned and ran. Aidan and Nix followed.

Good.

This was my fight now. I spun through the crowd of Phantoms, faster and more graceful than I’d ever been before. My silvery blue hair whipped around my face as I cut down my enemies. Anger filled my chest every time one laid a hand on me. Because it felt good when they touched me.

I didn’t want to be one of these monsters that fed on pain and misery. But they’d made me one of them.

I killed them all, filled with joy every time one of them fell.

When their ghostly blue forms littered the ground around me, some fading, some still intact, I turned to join my friends.

* * *

Cold dragged me back to the present. I blinked, staring up at the dark night sky. A chilly breeze whipped over the hill upon which I lay. There were no stars and just the faint glow of the moon behind some clouds.

Why had I just remembered the time I’d first turned into a Phantom? I’d never remembered it in such clarity before. When it had happened, I’d been so panicked that it had gone by in a blur.

But now I remembered. With a level of detail I never had before.

And it sickened me.

I’d liked being with the Phantoms. I’d been enraged that they’d changed me and afraid it was permanent, but I’d liked them. What kind of person liked such horrible beasts?

The memory of the ghostly blue force that had dragged me here flashed in my mind.

What had that been? It’d looked almost like a dragon, though it’d been made of wispy blue smoke. Not real, but made of magic.

And where had it taken me? Was it really gone?

My breath grew short and my skin chilled. The grass was wet beneath my hands as I struggled to my feet, and my burns ached. Damned fire-throwing demons.

I was in the middle of nowhere. But there was no ghostly blue force. A light rain fell, cold and damp on my face. I shivered, sheathing my sword and clutching my arms around myself.

Roarke was stuck back in Merlin’s Cave. He could handle himself, which was a good thing, since I had no way to get back there. And I had no idea where I even was.

Still, worry for him dogged me. Which was annoying. It’d be a good thing for me if he got offed by some demons. Right?

Logically, yes. I wouldn’t have the Warden of the Underworld on my tail.

But I really didn’t like the idea of him getting killed.

Fortunately, it was unlikely. And standing here worrying wasn’t going to do any good. I fiddled with the tracking bracelet on my wrist as I took in my surroundings, so desolate and dark.

Moonlight shined on the land that rolled gently into the distance in all directions. The ground cover was scrubby and hard to distinguish, but it was clear that there were few trees and no houses or roads. Here and there, massive piles of stone punctuated the horizon, crouching on top of hills like giant beasts.

They looked vaguely familiar. I had to be on a moor somewhere, and the rock-topped hills were tors. Possibly Dartmoor or Exmoor, both of which were close to Tintagel. Or I was all the way up in Yorkshire.

A wolf howled in the distance.

Right. Great. I was on Dartmoor, and that was the Hound of the Baskervilles. Even in my Phantom form, I didn’t want to run into some giant hellbeast.

I reached up and rubbed the golden feather charm at my neck for good luck, then pressed my fingertips to my comms charm to ignite the magic.

“Nix? Cass?”

“Del!” Cass’s voice came through clearly. It was so good to hear a familiar voice. I might throw myself at demons, but hanging out alone on a dark moor was creepy.

“Where are you?” Nix demanded.

“No idea. On a moor somewhere. I lost Roarke.”

The wolf howled again.

“Dartmoor,” Nix said. “That’s got to be the Hound of the Baskervilles.”

I laughed. “I made the same joke. But I don’t think that hound is real.”

“I don’t know. Sherlock was pretty clued in, for a human,” Nix said.

“Want us to use our dragon sense to find you? We can come get you.” There was a pause on the other side of the line for just a moment. “I think you’re still in southeast England.”

“It’s cool,” I said. “I’m too far for you to determine my precise location, so give me an hour to see if I can find my way to civilization. I’d rather not sit around out here waiting for you. If I can’t, I’ll call.”

“Fair enough,” Nix said. “In that case, you need to head downhill. Find a river and follow it downstream. That will lead you off the moor.”

“Then find a road sign and tell us where you are,” Cass said. “We’ll come get you.”

“And hurry,” Nix said. “Weather can turn foul real quick on a moor. You don’t want to get caught in a storm.”

She was right. I could take on my Phantom form and be protected from the worst of the elements, but it would still suck.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m off. Wish me luck that I find the shortest river.”

“You’ve got it under control,” Cass said.

“Call us when you know where you are,” Nix added.

“Thanks, guys.”

The connection broke, and I was once again alone. If only I had a tour guide to get off this freaking moor. It was cold and wet, and the desolate beauty was hidden by the darkness. This was going to be one miserable hike.

I set off downhill, disoriented by the lack of stars and the moon that kept hiding behind the clouds.

The wolves’ howling grew closer, sending goosebumps over my skin. There was more than one now.

But it was no big deal.

Two shadowy figures appeared on the next ridge. The wolves.

I stiffened as they headed toward me, ready to take on my Phantom form so that their fangs couldn’t sink into me. But when they neared, I squinted.

Those weren’t wolves.

They were dogs.

Two collies. A brown one and a black one. Their tongues lolled out of their mouths in what I assumed was a doggy smile.

Apparently I’d just been paranoid.

“Hi, guys,” I said.

This was the second time in recent memory I’d had dogs show up when I was in a pickle. About a month ago, I’d met a hellhound named Pondflower. Now these two were here. Dogs liked me, it seemed. And I liked them back. Better than most humans, in fact.

They weren’t as obviously magical as Pondflower had been. She’d smelled like brimstone. These two just smelled like wet fur and looked up at me happily. But there was something special in their eyes.

“Think you could lead me off the moor?” I asked.

They looked at each other, then turned and trotted down the hill. I shrugged and followed. Since they were headed downhill, I assumed they were leading me to safety. I’d been heading in this direction anyway.

“You guys are pretty nice,” I said.

They distracted me from my injuries. With the adrenaline fading, I could feel the burns more. The dogs trotted at my side, slightly ahead of me, glancing back every now and again to make sure that I was keeping up.

When we reached the valley between two of the tors, the dogs stopped at the river that ran between. They bounded toward it and slurped up water.

The water glittered in the moonlight, which made it look inviting. I reached up to touch my cheeks and felt the stickiness of demon blood. While I bent down to wash it from my face, the brown collie waded right into the stream, wallowing happily. When I stood, he bounded out again and set off downstream.

I smiled and followed, grateful that they headed in the same direction I did. I really didn’t want to leave them behind. Why were two collies on the moor in the middle of the night anyway?

About twenty minutes later, I caught sight of a glow in the distance. The dogs picked up the pace, and so did I, loping along in my wet boots. I prayed to magic that someone friendly lived in the house where the windows glowed brightly.

But when I neared, I saw that it was a pub.

Oh, thank fates.

A wooden sign blew in the breeze. I squinted and read the name Royal William Arms. Through the windows, I could make out the golden light of the lamps and the bar that was nearly empty save for a few hearty souls sitting near the crackling fire. They had the distinctive pale eyes of one of the nocturnal, supernatural species. Magic hummed around the place.

Jackpot. I’d stumbled on a pub owned by a supernatural. That’d make things even easier. Particularly since it was probably nearly morning. If this had been a human pub, it probably wouldn’t even be open.

The dogs ran right up to the wooden door, nudging it open with their noses, and I followed.

“Harvey and Holly!” a voice boomed. “What have you found on the moor?”

I stepped into the warmth of the pub. My clothes were clinging wetly to my skin and my nose felt red as an apple, so the heat from the crackling fire felt amazing. The interior of the pub was all dark wood and heavy, antique furniture upholstered in faded red velvet. This place had probably been here for five hundred years.

A rotund barkeep draped in a white apron was grinning at the two dogs, who grinned right back, their tongues lolling. The man’s friendly gaze met mine. His gaze was the same pale shade of gray—almost white—as that of the men sitting in front of the fire.

“I see our local fairy dogs found you?” he said.

“Fairy dogs?” I took a seat at the bar closest to the fire.

My injuries were now making themselves apparent, and standing was no longer an option. My shoulder ached from where I’d landed on the hard stone when those medieval jerks had tossed me into the cell, and my burns were stinging.

“Aye. They live in the village with a human couple. But they let themselves out at night to roam the moor. They’ve got a bit of magic in them and like to dance with the fairies on the tors at night. They go between that world and this world. Been around as long as anyone can remember. Immortal, probably.”

“The humans know about this?” Humans knowing about magic was strictly against the rules.

“Not a clue, bless them. But Harvey and Holly seem to like them, so they stick close by. Except at night, when they go out and find stragglers such as yourself.”

“Lucky me.”

“You shouldn’t be wandering at night.”

“No kidding. Where am I, by the way?”

“Merrivale. West side of Dartmoor.”

Dartmoor, with my two Baskerville hounds. I was living in a novel.

“Can I get you a pint?”

I nodded. Might as well, if I had to wait for Cass and Nix to show up. And it might dull the pain of the burns. I eyed the taps, noting a selection of real ales popular in the region. Good. None of that wimpy stuff Cass drank.

“Anything is fine.”

While he poured me the pint, the dogs gave me one last look, then headed out into the night again.

“Thanks!” I called after them. I pushed aside my worry over Roarke and reached up to touch the comms charm at my neck. Time to get the heck out of here.

But before my fingertips made contact, the barkeep put the pint on the bar.

“Thanks.” I dug into my pocket for my slim wallet. This place was old, but I’d bet they took a card.

“First one’s on the house, if Holly and Harvey approved of you.”

“Thanks extra, then.” I grinned and took a sip. Warmer than American beer and a bit flatter, but lovely all the same. Though my fave was boxed wine, I was a beer snob at heart when I actually drank the stuff. The weirder and stronger, the better, and this fit the bill.

“Not a problem. Now you warm up. Do you need me to call you a lift?”

“I’ve got it, but thank you.”

He nodded and turned. I reached up to touch my comms charm, but the door swung open.

I turned to see Holly and Harvey trot in, leading a tall, wet man.

Roarke.

He was okay. Tension flowed out of my shoulders.

Which annoyed me. I shouldn’t like him.

I looked at the dogs instead of him. “I thought you were on my side, guys.”

They grinned at me.

“You found another one, eh?” the barkeep said. “That’s a record!”

The dogs gave a bark, then turned around to head out into the night, probably to dance with the fairies. I smiled after them, but it slipped from my face as I looked at Roarke.

He strode toward me, back in his human form with his hand pressed to his side and his gaze worried. He stopped in front of me and lifted his other hand to hover it near the burns on my face. He didn’t quite touch, but the so-close sensation made my heart race.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Fine.”

He lowered his hand. “Then what the hell was that? You disappeared.”

“He giving you trouble, lass?” the barkeep asked.

“Yeah, but it’s okay,” I said. “We’re pals.”

The barkeep nodded, satisfied, and turned to answer a call from the back of the pub.

Roarke huffed a small laugh. “Pals?”

“What would you call us?” I asked.

“Not pals.” His dark gaze met mine, and it definitely wasn’t cruel. It was… interested.

“Uh.” My mind scrambled, then righted itself. “What happened back there? Did you see what carried me away?”

He frowned. “It was a strange blue cloud. Wispy. There was a pattern to it, almost like scales.”

“But did it have a shape?”

“Not that I could see. Though it was hard to get a good look during the battle.”

So he hadn’t thought it looked like a dragon. Which made sense, because no one had seen a dragon in centuries. Cass had four dragonets who occasionally helped her, but they were the size of cats and made of magic, not flesh and blood. Entirely different.

“Whatever it was, it was weird,” I said.

“Part of the protection spell on the cavern, maybe?”

I shrugged, though I didn’t believe it. That cloud had felt familiar. And if that wasn’t a weird sentence, I didn’t know what was.

“What happened with the demons?” I asked.

“Killed most of them before the Ubilaz demon escaped. He had a transportation charm.”

Damn. “It’ll take him time to collect another army, right? He only had a couple dozen.”

“Yeah. We’re good to recover for the night, then start tomorrow. He’ll have more on his side, but we should be able to handle it.”

“Not like we could handle him now, anyway.” My whole body ached. Roarke looked pretty beat up too. I rubbed the tracking bracelet on my wrist. “Then you tracked me here?”

He nodded. “To Dartmoor. Then the dogs met me.”

“How’d you get to Dartmoor so quickly? Was there an entrance to the Underpath at Tintagel?”

“No. But I made one.”

Wow.

I was about to ask how when the barkeep approached. “What will you have?”

“Whatever she’s having.” Roarke took the stool next to me, grimacing as he sat.

We were going to need a bit of recovery time before we picked up the hunt again. He accepted the beer from the barkeep, but his movements were a bit stiff. Again, the barkeep turned down payment.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Just a flesh wound.”

“Okay, Monty Python.”

“It’ll heal quickly. I just need to sit a moment.”

“Advanced healing?”

“A bit.”

“Nice.” Some supernaturals had the gift. I wished I did. But Roarke’s powers seemed to hang out in the realm of super strength and physical superiority, so it made sense that he had it.

“So, exactly how many did you off?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe a couple dozen.”

“All in a day’s work.”

“Exactly. Though I’m concerned. He accumulated a larger following than I would have expected.”

“He’s strong. And smart. He trapped us there.”

“Yeah. He knew I’d come for him.”

“Smart, powerful, and popular,” I said. “Among demon-kind, at least. Dangerous combo.”

“Yeah.” He drank half his beer in one long gulp. “They call them Cat 5s for a reason.”

I flinched, guilt streaking through me. I’d let that demon escape. Using powers I didn’t understand. I didn’t love that the Order was so suspicious of unknown magic, but they had a good reason. I hadn’t even intended to cause problems with mine, but look where it’d gotten us.

Roarke finished his beer and stood. “All right. Let’s get out of here.”

“How?” I polished off the last few sips of my own ale and hopped off the barstool, wincing when I hit the ground.

“I’ll create an Underpath entry.” He glanced around, his hand still pressed to his side. “I find I’m keen to return home.”

“Nuh-uh,” I said. “No way I’m going back to the Underworld with you.”

“My home isn’t in the Underworld. I live outside Magic’s Bend. On the river.”

A memory tugged at my mind. “Wait, you mean the house near the portal in the woods?”

“Yes. I commute to the Underworld for work.”

That was way less creepy than I’d thought. “I still don’t want to go there. I don’t know you. I’m not going to a strange dude’s house. I’m going home. Tomorrow, once we’ve recovered, we’ll start the search again.”

Understanding lit his gaze, and he nodded sharply and turned for the door. I followed him out into the dark night, both of us limping slightly. He walked to the edge of the building.

Tombstones stuck up out of the uneven ground within a small, fenced area. A graveyard.

“Is there an Underpath entrance here?” I asked.

“Not yet.” He held out his hand, and I took it, trying to ignore the shiver that ran up my arm.

The wind whipped across the moor, blowing my hair away from my face. This time, when Roarke held out his hand to create the passage, the magic that surged from him almost made me stumble. It was stronger than before, probably because there hadn’t already been a portal here.

He reared his arm back, then punched the air. His fist stopped dead, like it was hitting a wall, and a burst of light exploded as he ripped into the ether. The air glowed with light, and Roarke tugged me forward. I stepped in behind him, immediately caught by the rushing train feeling of the Underpath. Gravity disappeared and my head spun as we were sucked through space. I squeezed Roarke’s hand. He squeezed back.

Seconds or hours later—I couldn’t tell—Roarke tugged me out onto a dark city street. I blinked until my vision cleared, leaning on Roarke’s arm.

“That went better,” I said, though I was still a bit queasy. At least we were back in Magic’s Bend in the gross alley near Mad Mordecai’s. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“No problem.”

We left the alley and exited onto the bustling street. It was night here, too. We needed to stop hopping from continent to continent and avoiding daylight.

On the way to the car, Roarke moved more slowly, his limp more pronounced.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” His voice was gruff.

Hmmm. Doubtful. He’d expended a lot of magical energy creating the Underpath entrance—I’d felt it. If I had to bet, he’d weakened himself temporarily.

All supernaturals, except for my deirfiúr Cass, had a limited amount of magical power. Some had more than others, and I’d bet Roarke had a lot, but once it was used up, even he would likely have to wait a while for it to regenerate. The waiting time was different for everyone depending on their strength. That must be why he went through Mad Mordecai’s—to preserve his power for whatever battle waited on the other end of the Underpath.

By the time we made it to the car, I was dragging too. This had been a long day.

It didn’t take long to drive back to Factory Row, and we made it in silence.

When I climbed out of the car, Roarke grabbed a small duffle bag from the back and followed.

“You’re just walking me to my door, right?” Like this had been some weird, violent date?

“Something like that.”

Hmmm. I reached the green door, withdrew the key from my pocket, then let myself in. I turned to say goodbye to Roarke, but he stepped through the door, crowding me.

“Um, goodbye,” I said.

“No.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m staying. No way I’m letting you out of my sight.”

“I promised to help you tomorrow. You’re not coming up.”

“We aren’t partners, Del.” His voice was firm. “You’re still a fugitive. I’ve put that on hold so that we can catch the Ubilaz demon, but once we have, you’re coming back to the Underworld with me. I’ve never let a fugitive escape, and I’m not about to start now.”

My heart thundered. “I don’t belong there.”

“Then how did you end up there? There’s only one way to get to the Underworld, and that’s death.”

My brain stutter-stepped. I didn’t have an answer that would convince him to let me stay free, so I said, “Fine. But you’re sleeping on the couch.”

He nodded, satisfied for now. But as I climbed the stairs, my skin chilled. I’d started to like him. To think that maybe he liked me, too, and that he wouldn’t make me go back to the Underworld.

Apparently I’d been wrong.