“No, we’re not,” she declared, narrowing her eyes in annoyance.
Gloria didn’t look too pleased. “You put a hole in the plaster!” she exclaimed with a humph. “I hope you’re going to fix that.”
“Are you going to invite me in?”
“You don’t need an invitation, dear,” she said turning her back and shuffling her way into her apartment. “You’ll just push in, anyway.”
Closing the door behind her, Gabby said, “It’s important, Gloria. You’re the only one who might be able to help.”
“In trouble, are you?” she asked with a roll of her eyes as she sank down into her floral armchair.
“You know about unscrupulous things,” Gabby began, taking a seat on the matching settee.
“Obviously, considering the topic of our last conversation.”
There was no use hedging around the question. “What do you know about wraiths?”
“Wraiths?” she exclaimed, her eyes practically widening to the size of saucers. “Nothing at all. You had best leave.”
Gabby didn’t like the idea of bullying a little old lady, no matter how crooked she was, but there wasn’t any other option. Gloria didn’t want to help, either that or she was afraid of what would happen if she did. The only way she was getting answers was if she made some very specific threats.
“You know, Gloria,” she began. “I have a friend with a very peculiar talent. An expert tracker with a blue fire that steals a witch’s light. I’m sure you’ve heard of her.”
“The Witch Hunter?” Her mouth fell open, and she began to panic. “You wouldn’t!”
“Then help me,” she said. “Gloria, you know something. I can see it written all over your face. I don’t need to be a witch to tell you’re afraid. We need to stop them before it’s too late.”
“No, no, no,” the witch said, pouring herself a cup of tea. Her hands shook so much, the pot almost ended up on the floor. “Wraiths love hallowed ground. They don’t care about the hallowed part. Nothing keeps them out.”
Gabby shivered, her gaze turning toward the window and the church that sat next door. St. Augustine’s. A ley line must run underneath it, which meant…
“Gloria, this is important,” she said firmly. Taking the witch’s hand, she poured her good intent into her flesh, hoping her power would soothe the elderly lady. “Those wraiths… Right now, they’re scratching away at survival, completely powerless until they leech off a ley line. They want to be resurrected. They want their human bodies back. I think you understand what will happen if they achieve their goal. No one will be safe.”
Gloria’s gaze fixed on hers, and her grasp tightened. Power began to hum from the old witch, and Gabby smiled.
“I was at the farmer’s market,” she began, her voice wavering. “The jam was plum this month.” She swallowed, pulling Gabby closer. “I felt this God-awful chill pass by. That’s when I saw her. She was walking among the parishioners, large as life itself. She had this look of satisfaction on her face like she’d eaten the most spectacular meal and her belly was full. Then she stilled, her smile fading…”
“What happened then?” Gabby prodded gently.
“She turned and looked straight at me. Her eyes were like storm clouds…and it was if she knew what I was and what I’d been doing.”
“What did she look like?” Gabby already knew who the woman was, but she needed Gloria to say it. She needed the earth witch to make her fear a reality.
“She was young, a wisp of a thing, her hair was the color of chestnut, and it flowed around her in a mess of wild curls…”
“Eleanor.”
“I’ve known evil, dear, and she was more than that. I knew what she was without having ever seen it before. She was a wraith.”
“Did she try to hurt you?” Gabby asked. “Did she speak?”
Gloria shook her head. “I left immediately and came home.”
“I’m trying to stop them,” she said. “Anything you know about wraiths or that woman, I need you to tell me. They want something that’s being held in a place they call the Keeping Place.”
Gloria narrowed her eyes and pushed out of her armchair. Shuffling into the kitchen, she busied herself in the cupboards, taking out a teapot and some cups and saucers. Opening the refrigerator, she picked up a pint of milk and hesitated.
“You’re looking for a place. A building or a point on the earth,” she finally said, arranging all the items on the kitchen table. “There are many other places something can be kept.”
“Then what else could it be?” Rising to her feet, Gabby went to assist her. Picking up the electric kettle, she turned on the tap and began to fill it.
“I think it’s—”
Behind her, the china rattled, and a cup fell to the floor, shattering on the parquetry. Dropping the kettle into the sink, Gabby turned and found the elderly witch leaning against the table, her entire body quivering.
“Gloria?” she asked, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
She turned, her pink slippers shuffling on the floor, and when her gaze met Gabby’s, it was full of raging storm clouds. Gabby gasped in horror as the little old lady’s forehead flared, a rune burning into life. She hadn’t escaped Eleanor at all!
“Gloria?” She grasped Gloria’s hand and readied her power. “Gloria? Can you hear me?”
The witch moaned softly, then her head snapped to the side, her neck breaking in one swift motion.
“Gloria!” Gabby exclaimed, rushing forward to catch Gloria’s frail body in her arms.
Gently lowering her to the floor, a curse slipped from Gabby’s lips. There was nothing she could do. Gloria was gone.
Closing the witch’s eyes, she knelt over her body and whispered a prayer in the witch language. Eleanor had used the poor woman as a spy in her twisted game. Gloria wasn’t an innocent, not by a long shot, but no one deserved to be used as a puppet. No one.
Gabby racked her brain, trying to think of what she’d said to Gloria. If she’d let something slip about their plans, it would be bad. Very bad.
Knowing Eleanor was on the prowl and that it would only be a matter of time before she came her looking, Gabby pushed to her feet. There was nothing she could do for Gloria’s memory. Not right now. No, at this moment, she was more worried about Reed, who was outside waiting for her while a crazed wraith was stalking the streets. She wasn’t ready to face Eleanor, not yet. She’d have to grab the vampire and run.
Striding from the apartment, she lingered on the street, looking frantically for Reed.
As if on cue, the sleek black sedan came rolling down the street and stopped before her. When she didn’t move from the stoop, Reed got out of the driver’s side and rounded the car.
“What’s—”
He didn’t have a chance to finish asking his question. She forced him up against the side of the car, holding him in place with all the power she could muster. Grasping his face, she peered into his eyes, searching for any sign that he’d wrangled with a wraith while he’d been out here waiting for her.
His chest heaved against hers, his confusion clear, but he didn’t try to fight her. He sank into her touch with a willingness that excited yet terrified her. Either he was an extremely good judge of character or he trusted way too easily.
Forcing her earth sense into his body, she pulled apart every inch of his consciousness she could grasp, sifting through each layer but came up empty-handed. Eleanor hadn’t gotten to him.
Letting him go, she stepped away, her power retreating.
He stared at her with a quizzical look. “What was that about?”
“We need to get out of here,” she replied, her body tingling from the memory of his pressing against hers. “Eleanor is lurking around here someplace. My contact was compromised.”
“Bloody hell,” he cursed. “Get in.”
Sliding into the back as he took the front, she cast one last look at Gloria’s apartment and frowned. Who else needed
to die before this was over?
She did know one thing. Whatever Gloria was about to tell her was important. They must be getting closer to figuring out the Unhallowed’s plan. The problem was, Gabby still didn’t understand what it was.
Chapter 6
Isobel reclined in the passenger seat of Nye’s car, fiddling with the pendant he’d given her.
It was a pretty silver and gold Celtic knot with a stunning ruby in the center, but she wondered why he had it. Had it belonged to someone in his family?
Ever since they’d left the manor in Hampstead, he’d been tight-lipped, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead of them. Outside her window, rolling green countryside flashed past as they powered down the motorway, traveling farther and farther away from the sprawling urban landscape of London.
Studying the facets cut into the ruby, she sighed softly. She had better get used to wearing it if she wanted to keep the curse from eating her insides out. What a way to die. Just falling asleep and never waking up…
“You okay?”
She glanced up at the sound of Nye’s voice and smile thinly. “I’m okay.”
He peered at the pendant for a moment before returning his attention to the road ahead.
“So who are these wolves?” she asked, dropping the pendant back down her blouse out of sight. “What do they have to do with the Unhallowed?”
“The Triskele,” he replied. “They have a long legacy in this country. Their pack can be traced back well over fifteen hundred years.”
“That long? Wow.”
“They have a great deal of traditions,” he muttered.
“So…is the whole werewolf myth true? The moon, the strength…”
“Pretty much,” he replied.
She snorted and glanced out of the window. “So they might know something about the Unhallowed?”
“Their alpha used to be acquainted with Eleanor,” he replied.
Her head spun back so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “What?”
“I knew her long before I cut off her head,” he replied stonily. “Eleanor ran in some unusual circles for reasons I never quite understood. It was a different time, and it was much easier to hide what we were…and what we were doing.”
“Aren’t witches meant to hate werewolves?”
“Not really,” he replied, glancing at her. “It’s just vampires who get the bad rap.”
“So she was friends with an alpha wolf from the Triskele,” she mused. “So the ancestors of this wolf might know about the Unhallowed through their traditions and stories?”
Nye smiled to himself and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. We’re going to see the same alpha.”
Isobel frowned, not understanding. “But werewolves are only meant to have a human lifespan. How…”
“Because the Triskele’s alpha is more than just an ordinary wolf.”
“It’s the same alpha? How does that even work?” Isobel wasn’t sure why she was surprised considering the things that kept happening around her. It seemed absolutely anything was possible.
“Like I said, there’s history with Eleanor and the Unhallowed.” He gestured toward the right-hand side of the car. “We’re here.”
Isobel didn’t have time to ponder the situation further because the moment Nye turned the car off the road onto a private driveway, her gaze flew forward with interest. She never knew werewolves existed until few hours ago, let alone knew how they lived.
When a real life bona fide castle came into view through the trees, Isobel’s mouth fell open. The bluestone structure was crumbled in places along the parapet, but it was otherwise intact. As they emerged through the forest and onto the grounds, she could see the medieval building had been built upon over the centuries, and now it looked like a large compound. Other buildings had been added to the original walls, and further afield, whitewashed cottages with thatched roofs pinpricked the clearing. If it weren’t for the modern fixtures lingering here and there, Isobel would’ve thought they’d stepped back in time.
“They’re quite fixed in their ways,” Nye said dryly as he brought the car to a standstill. “And quite closed off to the modern world. They keep to their own, Isobel.”
“Is that code for ‘don’t leave my side’ because I wasn’t planning on it.” She stared through the windshield and up at the castle, wondering how many rooms there were inside. “I learned my lesson back in Oxford when that creep Aed kidnapped me, thank you very much.”
“Best not mention that, either,” he said. “Or about our current situation…and especially not your curse.”
“So it’s best not to open my mouth at all?” she snapped, irritated he thought she was that stupid.
“I didn’t say that.”
“If you were going to order me around like an imbecile, why did you allow me to come?”
Nye moved faster than she could follow, grasping her face in his hands. “I don’t think you’re an imbecile,” he said, lowering his lips toward hers. “Far from it, actually.”
“Then why do I feel like a moron right now?” she muttered, captured in his gaze.
“You shouldn’t,” he replied before leaning closer.
His lips met hers, and finally, he kissed her. A blaze of heat erupted through her body at his touch, and she curled her hands around the lapels of his suit jacket and tugged him closer. Entirely forgetting where they were, she almost threw herself into his lap.
A sharp knock on the window broke them apart, and Isobel started at the sight of a heavily built man standing outside the car.
“State your business,” he growled, his eyebrow raised.
Rolling down the window, Nye said, “We’re here to see your alpha.”
He stooped down so he could peer across at Isobel, then nodded. “Come with me.”
Sliding from the car, she met Nye at the front, his hand finding hers. Together, they followed the beast of a man across the threshold and into the castle. All around them, Isobel could smell the scent of wood smoke, earth, and the dampness a structure made completely with stone permeated. Here and there, tapestries depicting great battles of the past adorned the walls, and rugs in various stages of wear and tear coated the floor.
The man left them at the door of what appeared to be the main hall of the original castle, and she followed Nye inside, not wanting to be left behind with that creature. He was positively terrifying.
Immediately, her gaze fell on a woman who was sitting alone beside the open fireplace. Her presence was overwhelming, and Isobel didn’t have to be a genius to know she was someone who had a very supernatural way about her.
“Nye Saer,” she purred, rising to her feet at their entrance. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“After two hundred years, that’s the welcome you give me?” he drawled, putting Isobel on edge. She knew he’d had a life before her, but she knew so little it made her uneasy.
The werewolf’s attention turned to her, and she glanced at Nye.
“I am Sheera,” the wolf declared, jutting her chin upward. “I am the Triskele alpha. And who are you?”
She was the alpha?
“I’m Isobel,” she replied, her voice betraying her rising annoyance at the vampire who stood next to her.
The alpha looked like a Viking with her strong shoulders and athletic build. Her waist-length blonde hair had been twisted and plaited, braids holding the strands away from her face, which was also striking. Blue eyes stared at her with interest, her freckled nose twitching as her gaze lowered to Isobel’s neck and back up. Great…did werewolves like human blood, too?
“You seem surprised,” the alpha said to her. “I wasn’t who you were expecting?”
“No, not at all… I…” She faltered, her resolve bending under the wolf’s scrutiny.
“Who said an alpha couldn’t be a woman?” Sheera declared.
“It’s very twenty-first century,” she offered.
Sheera stared at her for a moment, and Isobel began
to fidget, thinking she’d stuck her foot in it completely this time, but the alpha began to laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Some might say I was well ahead of my time,” she went on. “Those born into the pack who swear allegiance to me will never be held accountable to the moon. We are a free people. I sacrificed my mortality so they could live without chains. A man would never do such a thing.”
“Oh, don’t try to sugarcoat it,” Nye said with a snort. “You bind these poor sods to you so they can escape their transformation, but you never disclosed the fine print. Not in the time I knew you.”
“Careful, Nye. There might be history between us, but I won’t let it stop me from tearing off your head.”
“She’s their sire,” he said to Isobel, completely ignoring the alpha’s threat. “She tells them what to do, and they have no choice but to obey. Trained puppies.”
“Is that natural?” was her reply, and Nye shook his head. It was most definitely not.
“If you’ve come here looking for favors, then you’re not winning me over, Nye Saer,” the alpha spat.
Rising to her feet, she prowled toward them, her eyes trained on Isobel. Standing before her, Sheera picked up the pendant that hung around her neck, hidden under her blouse. She stared at it for a moment, then narrowed her eyes before returning her gaze to Isobel’s with renewed interest.
Isobel glanced at the wolf, then at the pendant. Triskele… Nye had given her a Triskele pendant. A pendant she had to wear at all times to stop her from wasting away. A pendant that she got the feeling had belonged to the woman standing before her. An immortal werewolf, no less.
Asshole!
“Sheera,” Nye began, but Sheera held up her hand to silence him.
Isobel began to feel a chill spread through her bones and edged backward. The movement loosened the pendant from Sheera’s grasp, and it fell back into place.
“I won’t hear any talk from you today, vampire,” the alpha said, her gaze still locked on Isobel’s. “Business can wait. Tonight, you are my guests.” She snapped her fingers, her attention moving to that of a young man who appeared at her beckoning. “Hastings, take these two to our best guest room in the castle. Then let Uma in the kitchen know there’ll be a feast tonight. Then spread the word.”