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And then his voice swirled around me like a flurry of leaves. “Cicely. Look deep inside. Find the part of yourself that connects to the owl. Find the Uwilahsidhe within you.”


I sank deeper, following the path inward. The slipstream seemed very far away now as I lowered myself into my core, as I let his voice lead me into myself. Past the jaded exterior, past the fear, past the weariness, past the loss, deep into my center where I felt a warm glow. And there…there waited my owl. There waited my father’s blood.


“Draw on that strength. Draw on that reserve. You have so much power there for the using. Feel your spirit rise, lifted on owl wings. Do not shift in body, but draw on your owl to carry you aloft, to free you from the weariness, to buoy you up. Can you do this?”


I inhaled deeply and connected with my owl. And then a rush of energy raced through me—of renewal, the rush of wind in my hair, of wind beneath my wings, the exaltation of being aloft, and yet I did not transform.


“Can you feel it?” His voice slid over the words, sultry and seductive.


“Yes,” I whispered.


“Claim it. Coax it out. Let it be your source right now.”


And so I claimed the Cambyra side of me, and my doubts slid away, my worry that I might not be worthy of the blood. And as it did, I began to rise, back into the slipstream.


“Come back now. Return to here, to now, reenergized, refreshed, aware of your inner power, and your connection to that power.”


As his words drifted away, I slowly rose through the slipstream and out, and opened my eyes. The weariness was still there but much diminished, and my body didn’t ache nearly as much as it had. Best, my mind felt clear, replenished, and I realized that I could think again.


“Thank you.” I took Grieve’s hand and pressed it to my lips. “I love you so much.”


“You are my everything.” He reached out and stroked my face. “I mean it, Cicely. You are why I have resisted Myst, why I have had the courage to still live, even as the monster I’ve become.”


“You’re not a monster. You’re a Fae Prince. The sentinel in Lainule’s secret chamber called you the Wounded King. And so you are. You are wounded, deeply, but even with all the dangers you’ve faced, the hell you’ve been through, you waited for me, and you’ve done your best to harness the wild blood that runs through your veins.” I pressed my lips against his hand again. “We will perform the ritual and do whatever we can to free you from Myst’s chains.”


“If Myst should die…I think I could control this much easier.”


“She will. We will find her weakness, and we will exploit it. I pledge to you with my life, I will do whatever it takes to destroy her.” As I gazed into his eyes, my heart swelled, my love for him sweeping through me.


“Come, we’d best be off. Altos will need us. Even though the enemy came to us, I don’t trust them allowing him to reach the station unharmed.”


Grieve rose and, taking my hand, headed for the door. I followed, ready to face whatever it was that waited for us on the other side.


The guards escorted us out to our cars. Lannan’s crew followed us. We were in the big limousine. Lannan sat in front with the driver, while Grieve, Chatter, Rhiannon, Peyton, Kaylin, Wrath, and I sat in back. We’d left Luna, Zoey, and Rex behind. Rex was in no shape to fight, and Luna and Zoey were preparing for the ritual.


Lainule’s warriors—the survivors—were to meet us at the building. They would not travel via car, but they assured us they would be okay. The surviving members of the Consortium, including Ysandra, rode in another limousine, under the protection of more of Lannan’s guards.


The streets were a silent shroud of snow, sleeting down with bulletlike intensity. I wondered if Myst knew yet just how many men she’d lost. And if another contingent had been dispatched to the radio station. We’d find out soon enough, one way or another.


As the limo glided over the snow and ice, the tension built. Regina had stayed back at the mansion. The Emissary could not knowingly walk into battle without approval from the Queen of the Crimson Court. But she had promised to contact the vampire queen and ask for advice.


We approached the WorldCom Building, which was in downtown New Forest. The streets were empty, under a curfew that Lannan had ordered. My heart sank as I realized just what the beautiful little town had come to: a haven for terror, a horror-movie director’s wet dream.


As the cars pulled to the curb, parking, we cautiously stepped out of them. A third, fourth, and fifth car arrived, filled with vampires who immediately formed a protective circle around us. We slowly began the walk to the building. I could feel creatures watching from the shadows of the alleyways and the hidden recesses, nooks, and crannies that we could not see, but that I knew were there.


“They’re here. I can feel them.” I glanced over at Lannan.


Grieve nodded. “I can, too. My blood is singing with recognition.” He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me close.


“Cowards.” Lannan stared at the shadows. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, and show yourselves.”


But nothing moved, not even a whisper. We approached the building, Lannan’s guards going first. They were joined by a group of approaching Fae warriors. Ysandra and her witches stayed near us. The guards unceremoniously yanked open every door in the hallway, peering in to see if anybody was hiding, and we slowly made our way to the studio. The guards fanned out, covering every entrance to the building.


Lannan cautiously entered the radio station. He glanced around, but there seemed to be nothing amiss. As the workers in the booth fired up the mike, he motioned to me.


“I obviously cannot see myself in a mirror, so attend me. Make certain I look the part and do not fail me. While I may not be on camera, I want to feel as if I could be without embarrassing myself.” His voice was cool, but I recognized a faint tremor in his voice. For once, he was nervous.


I managed to tidy him up and brush out that glorious golden hair—it was like silk in my hands. Peyton watched me, and at one point Lannan stared at her till she looked away. No words passed between them. None were necessary.


“Fifteen minutes, Lord Altos.” The camera man motioned to the clock.


“No.” Lannan shook his head. “We go on now. Trust me.” He took his place in the booth. The announcer scrambled, the radio lights blinked, and the rest of us huddled outside the glass. The aide gave the five four three two one sign with his fingers, and Lannan turned to the microphone.


The announcer took a deep breath, then said, “Citizens of New Forest, we are interrupting our regularly scheduled programming for an important announcement from the Regent of the Vampire Nation, Lord Lannan Altos. His speech will be simultaneously broadcast on television and will be replayed throughout tonight and tomorrow. Please listen carefully. This concerns the safety of every person within this town. And now, Lord Lannan Altos.”


Lannan leaned forward. “Citizens of New Forest, we are facing a grave danger. As you know, there have been a number of unexplained deaths over the past months, and we have identified the killers. But they are at large—and there are many of them.”


As he launched into a simplified explanation of the Shadow Hunters, I began to notice an uneasy feeling creeping up on me. There were too many whisperings on the slipstream. I looked over at Grieve and Chatter, who both nodded at me, and we moved off to the side.


“Something’s up. I can feel it.”


“You’re right—but I can’t catch the words.” Grieve closed his eyes. “I do sense the Shadow Hunters near, but they are not…in the building, I think.”


Chatter paled. “It’s a trap.”


“You’re sure?” I turned to him, horrified. Had we walked right into their plans?


Just then, Lannan’s voice echoed through the intercom. “I urge you, tonight lock your doors and stay inside. Tomorrow pack up your necessities and get out of town. Take what you can and run. The danger is far too great. Be you yummanii, magic-born, Were, or Fae, leave this town—”


And then, at the precise moment when he’d originally been scheduled to deliver his speech, a low rumble began to shake the station, growing into a loud roar like a freight train. The building quaked as the roar grew into an explosion, and suddenly bricks and wood and stone were falling everywhere.


Rhiannon let out a short scream, but she looked unharmed as the lights flickered against the crumbling walls. And then we were plunged into darkness, and the destruction went on and on and on.


Chatter, Grieve, and I had been standing near the door. When the lights vanished, I felt a hand on my wrist and suddenly found myself being dragged out into what was left of the hallway. The lights were off, and it was impossible to see. I began to cough. Dust was swirling everywhere, and my throat felt like it had been burned dry. I was tempted to call on the winds, but if the underpinnings to the building were damaged, that might bring everything toppling down on us.


Grieve held on to my wrist, his hand never wavering, and Chatter held on to my other elbow as we stumbled through what had been the lobby. A flickering light began to shine. One of Lannan’s guards was holding a flashlight and he motioned for us to follow him. He shone it down at the floor, so we could do our best to skirt the toppled plaster and beams. The building hadn’t collapsed in toto but it had been severely damaged.


I tripped over a large chunk of something—whether it was stone or wood I couldn’t tell—but Grieve and Chatter righted me. We reached the door, where one of the guards was waiting. He hurried us out to the limousine. I could hear fighting a few yards away, but when I turned to help, the vampire yanked my arm and shoved me into the backseat, along with Grieve and Chatter. He slammed the door, locking it, and ran back to the building.


“What’s going on? We have to go back for the others!” It was a relief to be in the comfort of the car, but all I could think about were the rest of our friends, trapped inside. I struggled toward the door, but Grieve and Chatter held me firmly, while the driver peeked into the backseat.


“Stay here.” His voice was gruff, and the vampire looked big enough to enforce his command. “The guards are searching for the rest of your party.”


“They planned it. They planned for the station to blow right before Lannan began his speech, but he started early.” Grieve shook his head. “If he hadn’t started fifteen minutes early, the word would never have gotten out. But it’s going to be a bloody night. People are going to try to get out of town now, even though Lannan told them to wait until morning. Especially since they had to have heard the explosion over the air. The Shadow Hunters are going to have a field day.”


I cringed. He was right and there was nothing we could do. Hanging my head, I couldn’t stop thinking of the slaughter that was imminent.


A few moments later the door opened again and Rhiannon and Peyton climbed in, covered in dust. Neither looked seriously hurt, though Rhia was sporting a nasty bruise on her forehead. Chatter immediately opened his arms and she crept into his embrace. Another tense period passed—I don’t know how long it was, it seemed to take hours but it could have been minutes—and Wrath, Kaylin, and Lannan stumbled into the car.


I glanced out the window. The building was burning, flames lighting up the sky, and I realized I’d been hearing sirens without noticing it. Firemen moved in, their hoses aiming toward the fire, as we pulled away from the curb.


“The mansion.” Lannan’s voice was muted and even he looked wiped out. He glanced over at me and for once, his gaze wasn’t focused on my boobs or my body, but instead, was haunted. “I knew we had to go early. I wish I’d thought to make it even earlier, but at least the word got out.”


“We were kind of embroiled in a little war earlier.” Peyton gave him a quick shrug. “At least you warned them.”


Lannan nodded at her. “Yes, but was it enough?”


“What about Ysandra? The Consortium members? Wrath, what about your warriors? Did they escape?” I pressed my lips together. Nothing was going right.


He nodded. “I think so, but I can’t be sure. If they did, they’ll go back to the mansion. But it’s clear that the war has begun. And it’s not just against the vampires. Myst is out to conquer. And she’ll do whatever she has to in order to win.”


As we drove through the streets, even now we could see families piling into cars, carrying a hodgepodge of suitcases and backpacks. At one point, we heard screams but by the time we found where they were coming from, there was only a grisly blood smear left on the ground and a few mangled limbs. I didn’t want to know how many the Shadow Hunters had taken. I didn’t want to know how many would die tonight at Myst’s hands.


We pulled through the gates and a shout startled us. As we emerged from the car, we could see the guards fighting off a handful of Shadow Hunters.


Furious, raw from all we had witnessed, I shook off Grieve’s hand and ran forward, reaching deep inside to where I could feel the fury of the winds, waiting. I focused, mustering up all the energy that I could summon, and without a word, I was walking in the middle of a funnel cloud. Narrow and precarious, it was still a danger, and so I drove it forward, aching to sweep away the death and destruction that had laid siege to the town.


As I reached the fight, the vampires got out of the way quickly, leaving me a straight shot in mowing down the Shadow Hunters. I pulled on every ounce of energy I could, and sent the twister out of myself, giving it freedom, aiming it right down the center of their little group. As it raced toward them, they tried to run but they weren’t fast enough and the vortex swept them up, spinning them round with the dust and debris that I’d managed to pick up on the way, and then, as my anger grew, the cloud grew more vicious, and the Shadow Hunters came flying out, hitting the ground with a dull thud as necks and backs snapped.