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A child’s high-pitched laughter. The song of a bird. “Annie, catch me if you can!”


Ariane jerked up straighter in her seat, drawing in a sharp breath. For the briefest instant, she had been… somewhere else. But the moment it left her, she could do nothing but snatch at empty air.


All that lingered was the inescapable sense, real and bittersweet, that she had just touched something dear. Something long gone.


They turned off the main street, then again onto a drive that stopped short at a tall, spiked wrought-iron fence. Beyond, through the trees, Ariane could see the lights of a large Victorian mansion twinkling. The glow was homey despite the estate’s obvious size.


There was a call box set up just before the gate, but Jaden didn’t bother to press the button. All he did was look up at a camera mounted in the branches of a tree that overhung the drive and give a small wave, and the gates began to swing open.


“Have you gotten the place buttoned up pretty well now?” Damien asked. He sat beside her in the back, and though there was plenty of space, he’d sprawled out with his foot touching hers on the floor.


“Pretty well,” Jaden agreed, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “The property is fully fenced now, and we’ve got lots of security out here. Cameras, sensors, and the guard, of course. The humans in town have decided that Lily’s gotten a little paranoid since her, ah, abduction, so she’s supposedly bought all of these highly trained guard dogs. Which I guess the wolves might pass for, as long as it’s dark and you don’t get too close. That being the point, of course.” He grinned back at them. “It’s genius, really. People already think she’s running some kind of weird Goth-y B and B. It’s not like having huge creepy dogs roaming the grounds at night is a big stretch past that. So between the fact that Lily is still very well liked despite being the town eccentric and, well, the public’s fear of being eaten by slavering beasts, we’re keeping most curious mortals at bay. Except, of course, the Bay. Did I tell you she got a dog?”


Damien groaned. “No. Not that I’m surprised. I’m going to stop coming here, Jaden. I swear it. I’m sure she brings the bloody thing over.” He looked at Ariane balefully. “Bay is Bailey Harper, Lily’s friend. She is fixated on creatures that slobber. Though there are more of those around here than there used to be. I’m a little amazed the new Lilim deal with it as well as they have.”


Jaden’s look grew guarded. “Well… it was a little rough at first, but it really is getting better. The few scraps we’ve had have led to some new respect on both sides.”


“And probably a lot of torn flesh,” Damien said. “Still, once you get past the immediate instinct to hunt and kill one another, I expect having werewolves working for you does have some benefits.”


“They work alongside us, not for us,” Jaden said pointedly. “And, Damien, Eric is in this month’s rotation of guards. I’m asking you now, nicely, to stay out of his face. He and Lyra have come a long way with each other, and he’s finally started to loosen up a little since all the shit that went down. Leave him alone, okay?”


“Oh, the Puritan is here?” Damien’s eyes lit up. “How… interesting.”


“I mean it,” Jaden said, his voice hardening.


Damien looked unperturbed. “I’ll take it under consideration,” he said smoothly. “Jaden, I’ll never understand how a woman like Lyra could be so closely related to a humorless hardass like him.”


“Just because he didn’t appreciate the singing Strip-O-Gram…”


“Bloody prude,” Damien snorted. “I’ll bet you a thousand dollars he’s a virgin.”


Jaden looked in the mirror again, his eyes pleading. “Don’t ask him. Seriously. For me, this once, don’t.”


They pulled into a small parking lot beside a beautiful brick Victorian as Jaden and Damien bickered amiably about a man who Ariane gathered was some cousin of Lyra Black’s. Ariane craned her neck to get a look at the grounds while Jaden parked. Despite being so near the town square, the property seemed extensive and the house was set back quite a way from the main road. Old trees bordered the property, giving it added privacy, and even from here she could see that there was a lush garden behind the house.


He’s here. Sam is here.


As she thought it, her heartbeat picked up and nerves twisted knots in her lower belly.


She could even smell him faintly, the same familiar, comforting scent that had surrounded her as she’d awakened for the first time in the desert. Even then, she had thought he smelled of incense and ancient secrets.


Out of instinct, Ariane reached for him with her mind and sensed him, even though he was, as always, closed off. But he knew she was here. He was indeed waiting.


She slid out of the car silently when Damien came around to open the door. He studied her closely, offering a small half smile that was full of the same inscrutable emotion she’d seen on the plane.


“Last stop, kitten. Come on.”


Jaden carried most of the bags to the house, with Damien still dragging his own suitcase. The four of them headed up the steps, and out of the corner of her eye, Ariane could see dark shapes loping across the grounds, eyes gleaming with curiosity as they watched the newcomers. She found herself just as curious—she’d never seen a werewolf.


When they reached the top step, one of the gleaming wood doors flew open and a tall, gorgeous woman with bright gold eyes launched herself at Jaden with a husky growl. He dropped the luggage at once, laughing as he caught her. Ariane watched in wonder as the woman wrapped her legs around Jaden’s waist, gave him a big, noisy kiss, and then leapt nimbly to her feet.


“Missed you, hot stuff,” she said to him. Jaden simply stood there wearing a silly grin.


“I’m going to assume this is your wife,” Ariane said, unable to help her smile at two people so obviously crazy about each other.


“Yeah. Anyone else does that, they meet a slow, painful death,” the woman said with a grin, and stuck her hand out. “I’m Lyra Black.” Her eyes, shrewd but friendly, gave Ariane a thorough once-over as they shook hands.


“Your friend has been waiting,” Lyra said. “Damien knows how to get himself situated. Come on with me and I’ll take you to Sam. He’ll need to sleep again soon. He doesn’t complain, but… the healer can only do so much for the pain.”


Ariane nodded, swallowing hard. Any warmth she’d felt quickly evaporated at the look Jaden and Lyra shared and at the tense, unspoken emotion that passed between them.


She followed Lyra without another word, cold crawling over her skin. She’d wanted answers. Come what may, she had a feeling she was about to get them.


Chapter Nineteen


THE BEDROOM WAS SHROUDED in shadow.


Ariane barely heard the door shutting quietly behind her. At first, in a darkness broken only by the flickering light of a single candle, she noticed just the basic setup of the room. A single nightstand. A washbasin. A massive four-poster bed.


Then she saw the wings.


They were beautiful, smoke gray tipped with jet black and covered with feathers that looked as though they would be as soft as silk to touch. They spread out across the snow-white linens of the bed, a display of such perfection that for a moment Ariane could think of nothing else. Huge, majestic, inspiring wings. She had never seen their like.


But then a flash of violet caught her eye and she saw him, her Sam, propped against the pillows watching her progress into the room. He was bare chested, covered from the waist down so that the wings could be accommodated.


His wings. She had never seen them. Now she understood why.


Her own wings, all other wings, were pale shadows compared to his.


“Will you be afraid of me now that you can see me as I am, d’akara?”


His tone was gentle, but there was a hint of vulnerability she had never heard in him before. And looking closer, she could see that the alabaster luster of his skin had dimmed. His face, always such cold perfection, now showed strain.


It was a shock to realize he wasn’t as invincible as she’d always thought him.


Her nerves vanished, and she crossed the room quickly to climb onto the bed and throw her arms around him, pressing her cheek into the cool comfort of his skin. Her eyes stung, surprising her. She didn’t cry, rarely even thought of crying… but then, things had changed since she’d left the desert.


“I missed you,” she breathed. “I thought you were dead… and then… I didn’t know.”


Sam’s voice was gruff when he spoke, rumbling through his chest against her ear. “And I thought you would be safer at the compound until Lucan and I had finished what we set out to do. I should have known you wouldn’t sit idle.”


Ariane shifted to a sitting position, staying close. She looked him over and finally saw the reason for Sam’s weakened state. There was an ugly, jagged band of crusted blood carved into his left wing, marring the gray. It curved from the top of the wing to very near the bottom.


It was one thing to hear he’d almost had his wing severed. Seeing it, though, drove the point home in a way nothing else could have.


“Sariel has gone insane to do this. It’s healing, isn’t it? Please tell me it can heal.”


“It will take some time yet, but yes, d’akara. The wing will be whole. By the time the Council meets, we will be ready.”


Ariane frowned, not understanding. “We?”


Sam gave a small shake of his head. “In time. There are some things we must speak of first, Ariane. Some things I need you to understand.”


“Like why you vanished without a word?”


Sam sighed softly, the candlelight creating deep shadows beneath his eyes. “As I said, I assumed you would be safer at the compound. And far safer not knowing,” he said. “I still believe you might have been.”


Ariane’s hand bunched and unbunched the coverlet as she remembered the odd way Sariel had acted that last night. It hadn’t made sense at the time, but it did now.