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  “Everything’s fine,” Amelia told her. “Why don’t you go back in the living room?”

  Bryn didn’t even acknowledge the request. Daire watched her eyes widen. “It’s just like…”

  He turned to the door.

  Two wolves stalked down the hallway toward them.

  Chapter 10

  Britain. AD 726

  “Grab his legs!”

  “Don’t let him escape!”

  “Get him to the Bishop, friends.” The magnanimous voice bellowed over all the others. “The boy must pay for his crimes.”

  Darren squirmed against their hold. Sleep still clouded his mind. His face itched where it had been pressed against hay on the floor of the horse stall. And the centurion’s sword still buried under the straw.

  “I didn’t do anything!” His voice came out high-pitched. Somewhere in his mind it seemed the greatest of injustices that he should still sound this way after so many years.

  Not to mention the fact that against four men he was basically defenseless. Skinny. Far too short. Still.

  Hundreds of years since the druid had set his world on fire, and he’d grown barely a foot.

  Darren gritted his teeth. “Let go of me!”

  One of the men chuckled. His grip on Darren’s arm squeezed to the point he lost feeling in his fingers.

  “It’s to the Bishop with you, boy.”

  Darren cried out as they carried him along dirt-packed streets to the church, the only stone building in town. He’d never liked stepping foot in there. The air inside was damp, thick with incense.

  They strode around the back of the church. He fought their hold still, trying in vain to loose himself from their grip. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Someone stole the Bishop’s purse.”

  “It wasn’t me!”

  They pulled him through the door. Darren’s head clipped the frame. His thoughts swam like the time he tried to get across the river when it was flowing too fast.

  “…pay for this. Why not you?” the man by his right shoulder said. “Strange boy. No one knows you ‘round here. Course you’re a thief.”

  They threw him to the floor. Darren landed on the stone and cried out.

  “This is our culprit?” The Bishop had a slightly foreign accent, probably Gaul. He’d arrived only a fortnight ago and was due to leave in the morning. He stood and brushed off the seat of his robes. The ring on his finger glinted in the torchlight as he smoothed down the hair swept across his head and eyed Darren.

  These people just wanted a scapegoat. He gritted his teeth and rose to his knees. “I didn’t do anything!”

  A meaty fist smacked against his temple. Darren fell to the floor, head hanging. He was centuries older than these men. They were children compared to him.

  “Thieves must be punished.”

  Darren lifted his gaze and met the man’s hard stare. A glint of something in the man’s eyes left him with no confusion about what was going to happen next. “You aren’t a man of God.”

  The life experiences he’d had taught him that men—no matter how holy—were all the same. Ready to throw another in the fire in order to save themselves.

  The man beside him took two tromping steps in his direction. “Disrespec—”

  The Bishop lifted his hand. “Justice will be served. God’s judgement will fall on this boy.”

  Darren lifted back up to his knees. “You first.”

  The Bishop turned to the man beside him. “Leave the boy for the beast.”

  Terror rippled through him. “No.”

  Meaty hands lifted his body and dragged him from the room. They stepped outside and he gasped in clean air. His head thumped. He was jolted with every step, all the way back across town to the cave.

  Dried blood coated the wall. The floor. The metal shackles forged by the town blacksmith. The whole place smelled like burned flesh. They swung his body and threw him down. Before he could gather the wherewithal to fight, they had secured him in.

  From deep below the earth a roar came.

  Hot air blew through the cave, out into the crisp air of morning.

  Chuckles from the men drifted to him as they walked away. Darren pushed himself so his back was pressed against the wall. Jagged edges of rock pressed into him. Still, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  The chuckling continued. After it had gone on for the length of a thought, Darren opened his eyes.

  Stood over him, dressed in the robes of a magistrate, was the face of death. His greatest enemy.

  Gold hung around his neck. The length of his beard touched his chest. He stared down with those black eyes at the boy whose life he’d changed forever. “Food for the beast?”

  Darren said nothing.

  “Suppose he does not chew you sufficiently,” he wondered aloud. “Think you that you would end up alive, in his stomach?”

  His fingers itched for the centurion’s sword.

  “There is murder in your heart, is there not?”

  “No less or more than yours,” he croaked out, voice breaking in the middle of the sentence.

  “Perhaps this is judgement.”

  “Then you should prepare yourself.” Darren lifted his chin. “Did you steal the Bishop’s purse?”

  “Me?” The old man chuckled. “He merely misplaced it. He’ll find it in the morning and not even spare you a second thought.”

  He glanced aside, then continued, “I have everything I ever wanted. And I wonder why I am yet unsatisfied.” He turned back to Darren, a crinkle in the skin of his forehead. “Do you not feel it? Scratching out a living in the dirt. Moving from town to town to hide the fact you age but months in a century?”

  Darren said nothing.

  “I could kill the bishop for you. But I do not think you would accept my offer.”

  “I would not.”

  “Maybe I’ll kill the whole town. Just burn it to the ground, one piece of straw at a time.”

  “Leave.”

  “You don’t wish me to set you free before you are eaten?”

  If there was a way to get out, he would find it himself. Almighty God would grant him freedom if it was His will.

  The old man sighed. As he reached the mouth of the cave, a single leaf floated back in. It landed on Darren’s left knee, then rocked back and forth as though with a gentle breeze.

  The roar sounded again. As though the earth itself cried with the killing fury.

  Once again, the flames came.

  Chapter 11

  Paradise Valley, NV. Present Day

  Bryn judged the distance between the wolves and Amelia. Maybe eight feet of hallway stretched from left to right in front of her. She was behind the threshold trim that divided the hall from the living room. Between her and the man who’d shown up was more like five feet. A straight shot forward to the kitchen.

  Would she make it across the hall before the wolves snapped at her?

  Bryn pushed aside all thought and ran at him. His eyes widened the second before she collided with his frame. He was bigger and taller than her. She felt a flash of fear at his size, then grabbed handfuls of his jacket and spun him away from the door. He didn’t know about the wolves.

  “Last night.” She tried to tell him. “They.” He shouldn’t get between the wolves and Amelia. That would spell disaster.

  Bryn lifted her arm where one had nipped at her, and pulled back the sleeve. The red gash on the inside of her forearm was crisscrossed with white lines. “They’re protecting her.”

  The man frowned. Daire, he’d said his name was. He looked more like some kind of Victorian scoundrel—apart from the leather jacket—than anyone’s uncle. Bryn wasn’t about to look into those dark eyes. So dark they looked like black pools. Midnight right there in his gaze, along with everything that happened in that hour of the night. None of which she wanted to think about right now.

  Too many nightmares had come to life in the last twenty-four hours.

  “Amelia
.”

  One of the animals lunged, teeth bared. It growled at him.

  Daire stepped back and bumped into her. He glanced back, but didn’t do much more than send her a dismissive glance. One she didn’t like at all. Bryn was trying to keep him from being mauled by a wolf pack.

  “They came to the cave last night.”

  He didn’t turn, or acknowledge her words at all.

  “I think they were guarding the entrance all night. Keeping her safe.”

  She shuddered at the memory of the wolf that had wandered inside. The one that had forced her to back off when she’d stood between it and Amelia. And then the man had come.

  “Don’t get between them.” She blinked, and shook her head. This morning she’d thought that whole thing had been nothing but a dream. Bryn held her right forearm, and the gash there, with her left. “It was real.”

  She looked at the wolves now. Two pack members holding flanking positions behind him. She blinked and they were still there. “This is real.”

  Amelia glanced at her. “Of course it’s real, Bryn. What did you think?”

  Daire shot them both a look.

  “What?” Amelia asked. “What don’t I know?”

  That was what Bryn wanted an answer to. She had no idea who he was, or where he’d come from. There was no way she could find out answers to either of those. She had no contacts, and no one she could call for help.

  She was alone.

  And here.

  Daire turned. “I can’t get to you. Is there something you can do, Amelia?”

  She shrugged one shoulder, stood in the middle of the hallway. “Besides call animal control?”

  The wolf kept its guarded stance. Those lethal teeth bared, its silver eyes watching every movement. Bryn wanted to move closer to Daire’s back. To take refuge behind someone bigger and stronger than her. She was a trained fighter, but who couldn’t use a shield? These wolves were in the house.

  “We have to get them out,” Daire said.

  “What is it?” There was something in his eyes Bryn couldn’t decipher. “What’s going on here?”

  “They came for a reason.” Amelia actually pouted. “Why not wait and figure out what that is?”

  Bryn looked at the girl. Like last night?

  Amelia looked thoughtful, almost. Not scared by the presence of two wild animals in her house. Animals that could rip a person apart on their own, let alone in a group. “Tell them to leave.”

  If Amelia walked toward the door and kind of…shooed them out. But with the command presence you had to have with high intensity dogs. There was a chance they would listen to her, right? Maybe they’d be receptive because of whatever connection seemed to be between her and them.

  It was crazy, and a long shot. But what other choice did they have? “Make them go,” Bryn said.

  Amelia held out a hand. What was she doing? The alpha wolf padded on huge paws toward her. His muscled but lean body rippled as he moved. The animal licked the inside of her wrist, where a small scar pinked the skin.

  Daire’s body stilled. “They’ve tasted your blood.”

  “What?” Bryn glanced between the two of them, trying to make sense of this.

  Whatever he’d been about to say, he caught himself before he finished. He navigated the conversation back on track by stubbornly repeating himself. “These wolves have tasted your blood, haven’t they?”

  “Her what?” Bryn asked. Did he think saying the same crazy thing over and over made it make sense? She took a breath and tried to hold on to her composure. It was far too easy to allow fear to shut her down. She would dissolve and find herself unable to combat what was happening around her.

  Been there. Done that.

  No matter how insane this situation got, nothing could be as bad as what had happened to her. At least, what she remembered of what happened.

  What was worse, were the nightmares.

  “I have to go.” Bryn took a step toward the stairs so she could run and grab her things. Then she could get out of here, and far away from these crazy people.

  One step. Then a second.

  The wolf in front of Amelia lunged.

  Daire grabbed her. Bryn screamed as the wolf jumped up and made a snap-snap sound with his teeth. Daire pulled her back into the kitchen, behind him.

  Amelia yelled, “No!”

  The wolf retreated, its gaze on Bryn.

  Daire said, “Tell me what happened. Explain this connection.”

  “I was hiking,” Amelia said. “I fell, and I was bleeding. They came to me. I screamed at them to back off but one licked my wound. They stayed with me until I got up, and then they walked with me back to the house.”

  “Are we sure that I’m not just dreaming all this,” Bryn said. “Because I thought I was dreaming last night when the wolves showed up. But the bite on my arm still aches. They really came to the cave, didn’t they?” She gripped Daire’s sleeve. “You’re here now. Is this real?”

  His dark gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. “It’s real, Bryn.” He turned back to Amelia. “Try telling them to leave.”

  His back was stiff, poised to move as soon as the moment presented itself. Right now Daire was as stuck to this spot as Bryn was. All of them, trapped by two wild animals. How could it end well? How could they possibly get free of this stand off without being mauled? They needed help.

  Amelia squared her shoulders. “Maybe I don’t want them to leave. They helped me. They’re my friends, and they’re here for a reason. Like, maybe they think I’m in trouble or something.”

  Daire let out a long sigh. “You can’t have wolves here when you have guests.”

  Again with the logic. None of this was about logic for Amelia. She was lonely. And, well…Bryn could understand that.

  A resigned look came over Amelia’s face and she straightened. “Out.” She pointed at the door.

  The wolves didn’t move.

  “Out.”

  The alpha looked back at the door. Growled. A second later he turned the rest of his body around. The other wolf did the same.

  A shadowed figure filled the door.

  Bryn wanted to run. Every muscle and sinew in her body itched to break from this spot and just go. Her mind screamed. The hollow echo of her will, demanding for her to escape, rang in her head. Daire leaned around the doorway. Bryn leaned around him.

  Daire growled, “Roy,” low in his throat.

  “What…” Amelia’s voice trailed off.

  Daire’s body flinched. “I killed you.”

  This “Roy” person took a lumbering step inside. Then another. He gained momentum as he moved toward the wolves. Blood matted the front of his shirt. His hair was mud colored. Dirt streaked across his face in hard set lines of determination.

  “I killed you,” Daire said again. “Why is this happening now? Did he send you here? Is he commanding you?”

  Roy said nothing.

  The wolves braced. Growls filled the hallway, louder even than Bryn’s thoughts. She leaned around Daire again to get a better handle on what was happening. Roy’s gaze found her. Dead eyes. So familiar.

  But not his. The dead eyes she’d seen belonged to another.

  A shiver rolled through her.

  Roy made a growling sound of his own. “You.”

  Bryn took a step back. There was nothing else she could do. She had to go. Now.

  Daire reached back and grabbed her arm. Like he knew exactly where it was even though she’d let go of him. She tugged. Let me go. The words wouldn’t form. She tugged against his grip again, but he held her fast. Why wasn’t he letting her leave?

  “Don’t.”

  He couldn’t stop her. She should tear herself away from him. Hit the back door running and make a break for it into the woods.

  No. There was no refuge there.

  Here she was behind a bigger, stronger person. One who seemed fully capable of protecting her.

  But from a supposed dead man, and rabid wolves?
Surely some things were too much for even him to handle. She couldn’t stay.

  Amelia said, “Roy, what are you doing here? I told you not to come around anymore.”

  Daire shifted his grip on her and pulled a sword from the back of his shirt, inside his leather jacket.

  A sword.

  “Don’t move.” Daire shifted his sword so it was in front of him, held with both hands. Likely he didn’t need both to hold it steady when it wasn’t big. He seemed at ease with the weapon. Not enough to make Bryn feel secure. Where was a gun when she could use one?

  She couldn’t rely on him to save her. After all, she had to consider the enormity of what had happened. Maybe she was just as alone as Amelia. Everything in her had said flee. Just like at the hospital.

  Run.

  “What are you…” Bryn took a step away from him and eyed the kitchen door. She didn’t need this man to tell her what to do. If she’d wanted that, then she’d have stayed at the hospital.

  Amelia said, “But—”

  “No. Stay there.” Daire shifted to get between Amelia and the wolves to face down Roy, who had moved closer to them now.

  Bryn backed up another step.

  Roy’s head whipped around to stare at her. His eyes narrowed.

  Bryn pushed off the wall and turned around. She ran as fast and hard as she could for the door.

  Amelia yelled, “Bryn!”

  Daire erupted in a roar. The wolves howled. Roy cried out. Animal teeth snapped together—another viciously fast snap-snap that couldn’t herald anything good.

  That was the last thing Bryn heard before her feet landed on the grass outside. And then all she heard was the rush of wind in her ears. The sound of her own breaths. She didn’t want to see anyone else die. Couldn’t be a witness to another gruesome death. Not again.

  Her heart pounded in her ears. She stepped on a spiky branch in her bare feet and hissed. Her knee gave out and landed on a rock.

  A roar sounded behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Roy was running after her, another nightmare coming to life.

  She wasn’t going to stay here with the weird wolves and the crazy maybe-dead man and the handsome uncle. She had enough problems.