Chapter 4

Noah pushed away one of the dusty tomes that had come from the great Demon library, an archive of their vast history and prophecies located in the dungeons of his castle home. There were three of the enormous books awaiting his attention, but he ignored them and began to pace the floor of the Great Hall in a sign of agitation he had found himself repeating far too often these past two days.

To say he was worried would have been an understatement. In spite of the fact that the Captain of his armies had gone missing, uncharacteristically without a single word to anyone as to where he would be, he should know Elijah well enough after all these centuries to realize the warrior was quite capable of taking care of himself. But these were volatile times. Enemies and prophecies, Druids being rediscovered and hybrid children born with potentially new and powerful abilities. Men and women suddenly Imprinting on one another with a frequency their race had not enjoyed for over a thousand years, if indeed they had ever enjoyed it at all.

This was why he was researching tomes of knowledge, history, and prophecy that had the dust of the ages on them. Some of them had not been opened in over a millennium, hiding secrets and thoughts that not even Gideon, a millennium old himself, knew about. He was hoping that within them he would find clarity in all of the chaos of the time. However, the archaic nature of the ancient Demon language made the going slow and difficult.

The best scholar for this task would be Isabella, the female Enforcer. However, despite the fact that Isabella's Druidic powers included the ability to easily translate the Demon language in all its forms through the ages, it simply was not possible for a new mother to devote herself to such an intensive study so soon after giving birth.

Scholars like the King were seeking the answers for problems in the present in the works and prophecies of the past. Destiny meant a great deal to Demonkind, both individually and as a society. It was very much like a religious experience for them, to follow the purest path to their destinies, watching prophecies become truth in the present, forming into wondrous history.

It was this that had made Ruth and Mary's betrayal of their people so hard to grasp early on. It was practically unheard of. Noah realized, however, that the female traitors bent on causing heartache and mayhem thought, in their warped perception, that their paths were just as destined as anyone else's. And, Noah supposed, there was probably truth in that. Not every path was destined to be one of moral good and soulful clarity. If that were the case, there would be no wars, no violence.

In the minds of these traitors, these acts of vengeance against their own brethren were justified, even righteous. The siege last May, just before Beltane, had been a brutal act of retribution aimed at Jacob the Enforcer at first, but then had spread like a virulent poison to include all of Demonkind. Since then, Demons had suffered under the hands of these turncoats repeatedly, victims of damaging guerilla tactics with little or no reason to them. If the past six months gave them anything to be aware of, it was that enemies were all around—some closer than they would have ever expected.

All of this lent a strong hand to a worry for a missing comrade the King would normally never consider worrying about.

There was a cry from near the fireplace across the Great Hall, and Noah immediately left his volatile thoughts behind and hurried to the delicate crib the cry had come from. He reached into it, scooping up the littlest bit of a baby into his big hands, taking a moment to tuck the infant girl into the crook of one arm, a blanket wrapped warmly around her.

"So, sweet," he said conversationally to her, "you have something to say about this?"

The babe, little more than two weeks old, who could barely hold her head in a single position for long, made her face squish up even tighter than it naturally was, making the Demon King laugh in spite of himself.

"You are going to be just like your parents, I think. Will you be my Enforcer one day, sweet? Fetching wayward Demons back to me for the punishment they so very much deserve?"

Noah turned his body to case himself into his favorite seat before the fire. The Demon lifted up his hand and playfully began to light his fingers on fire, making the flame jump from one fingertip to the next, with a speed that made the baby go wide-eyed. She thrashed arms and legs in her excitement, reaching for him, but he made sure he kept the playful lights far out of her reach. She screeched in infant frustration.

"Shh," he whispered. "If your mother knew, she would have my royal head."

Noah grinned and put out his flames with the same passing thought that had lit them. The Fire Demon then reached to stroke warmed fingers over the silky cap of black curls on her head.

"I am quite put out that your parents chose Elijah to be your Siddah over me. However, I understand they anticipate you will be too much of a handful for a man busy running an entire species. And no," he continued, stretching out his long legs and linking them at the ankles, "I most certainly did not appreciate your mother's jest about possibly having a family of my own by then. It seems she is taking a great deal of delight in watching one Demon male after another fall under the wily spells of you females."

The baby blinked newborn blue eyes at him, then reached to grab one of his thick fingers with an amazingly strong grip so she could force it into her mouth.

"I am glad you see this my way," he laughed. "I am beginning to regret ever encouraging your father into your mother's arms. Not that I could have stopped him. But since that woman entered this castle, things have not been the same. If this keeps up, Elijah is going to walk through that door spouting love sonnets and children of his own. Bad enough my sister …"

Noah trailed off, his humor fading as his thoughts turned back to the missing warrior. Frankly, it would have suited him fine if Elijah would walk through the door, no matter what circumstances. It was not like him to disappear and not tell anyone where he could be found. Especially not with danger looming all around them.

Elijah had behaved like a madman these past months, working himself into the ground trying to find out everything he could about the cult of human females plotting against the Demons and other Nightwalkers. Running himself literally ragged with exhaustion as he hunted for the Demon betrayers, even though policing their own fell to Jacob's jurisdiction. The warrior did not know that Noah was aware of the fact that he had been requesting a great deal of healing services from the Body Demons in his corps. Several of these soldiers had reluctantly approached the King, full of loyalty to Elijah and not wanting to go over his head but terrified he was pushing himself into serious harm. Every one of them had tried to underplay the seriousness of the situation, but their eyes had said everything they were unwilling to. It was why Noah had instructed Elijah to attend a meeting with him yesterday.

Elijah would never have missed such an appointment. He was correct to a fault when it came to Noah's protocols, and he never ignored a summons, even if he had to drag himself to the chamber while close to death. For all his casual manners, Elijah was fiercely loyal, and it showed.

Noah exhaled, trying to calm his thoughts as he did so, turning his attention back to the baby in his arm.

"It appears you are hungry, little sweet. Your mama needs to come feed you before you nibble off my finger."

The babe ignored him, continuing her nibbling.

"I hardly think a baby without teeth can do much nibbling."

Noah looked up, startled to realize he had been so distracted by his thoughts that he had not been aware of the Enforcers' arrival. His eyes immediately went to Jacob's serious countenance as Isabella leaned over to scoop her child out of his hold. Noah knew the instant he looked into those dark eyes that the male Enforcer's news was not going to be good.

"Nothing at all?" Noah asked, his troubled emotions coming through far too clearly with the question.

As soon as Bella had her infant in her arms and had moved aside, cooing softly to her daughter, Noah was out of his chair and approaching Jacob, who was standing back away from his family. The Enforcers had been out looking for any sign of Elijah. A sure sign that Jacob was as worried about him as Noah was, was that Bella had left her newborn babe to go with him, and Jacob had allowed it without protest. Of course, it could be said that what he did and did not protest meant fairly little to the Druid Jacob was married to. Bella was a rather independent, modem woman with a sassy attitude and a will of her own that, it was safe to say, drove her husband up the wall as much as it delighted the hell out of him.

Noah moved back to the desk he had left only minutes earlier, his Enforcer following close at his side with his arms crossed over his athletic chest and his dark head lowered along with his voice.

"I do not understand this, Noah. I should have been able to track him anywhere. It is what I have been doing for all of my life. Especially during Samhain. You know my skills are at their sharpest now. But I followed him to Washington and then lost him completely."

"It rains so much there, Jacob, and you were a full day behind him when you started. It is understandable."

Jacob made a sound that broadcast to the King that he was not so forgiving of his failure as his monarch was. But that was Jacob's way. He had been, and would always be, extremely hard on himself for his failures. It did not matter that they were few and far between. All that mattered to the highly moral Earth Demon was that one failure would always be one failure too many.

"Isabella cannot escape the feeling that he is in trouble," Jacob said tensely, running a hand through his long, dark hair. "She was having so many premonitions back to back once we got to the end of his trail that I thought she was going to pass out from the overload."

That news made Noah look up at the female Enforcer quickly, for the first time noticing her drawn complexion and the way she was cradling her child as if desperate for her warmth and affection. This had been a harrowing task, and this ambiguous result had clearly taken its toll on Elijah's friends.

"What kind of premonitions?" the King forced himself to ask.

"Of battle. Of pain. She kept saying that she was blinded by blood. Even without that information, she didn't have to tell me she was certain something bad will happen or already has happened. I could feel it myself. The only thing I am glad of is that neither she nor I can be certain if he is alive or dead. She cannot say for sure if he has been Summoned. Did Ruth know Elijah's power name, Noah? Could she have given it to one of the necromancers and had him Summoned and imprisoned?" Jacob's hand clenched into a fist. "I swear on my child's soul, Noah … if that bitch forces me into the position of having to kill Elijah, I will not rest until I have her black heart in my hand."

Noah understood the Enforcer's rage and fear. If Elijah had been Summoned, the worst of all fates known to Demonkind, he would probably already be perverted into a dark, soulless monster who would be a powerful danger to every creature within his reach. The magic-users used pentagrams drawn and empowered by their vile magic in order to imprison a Demon whose power name they had obtained. Once the Demon was in this trap, it was almost impossible for it to be saved. It was Jacob and Bella's painful duty to destroy these monsters. But if Elijah had become such a creature, the pain the Enforcers would suffer for being forced to kill the Demon they had chosen to raise their child during the Fostering would be unimaginable.

Elijah meant as much to them as he did to the King and so, so many others. The morale of all of Noah's forces, so driven, guided, and flushed by Elijah's very powerful presence, would have a difficult time rallying after a tragedy of that magnitude. The loss of a Demon of Elijah's power and brilliance would devastate their entire race, and there was no need to mention the open wounds it would leave in dozens of hearts, including the heart of a King.

Noah's head was aching and he rubbed at his pounding temples. The tension since he'd first noticed something was not right was packed tightly into those two points. Here they were, two of the most powerful of their kind, and they were at a loss? What a sad commentary on the future of their people, Noah thought in a rare, bitter moment of fatalism.

Noah pushed the feelings and the pain in his head aside as he felt Isabella's approaching energy. She was drained and worried enough without seeing him and Jacob looking thoroughly defeated. Of course, she could read her husband's mind and emotions as easily as she could read her own, but Noah was another matter. He was supposed to be the strength of his people.

Noah turned with a smile to look at her and her baby.

"Hey, how is my newest subject?" he asked.

"Hungry, as noted," she said with a laugh. "I need to feed her. I want you two to relax, have a drink, and wait till I get back before you hash this over any more. I am your Enforcer too, Noah, and I will not allow you to coddle me like some fragile bird. Is that understood?"

She gave them both an extremely no-nonsense glare that made them nod obediently.

"Good. If you are going to find Elijah, it's very likely you will need me to—"

Bella broke off, her entire complexion turning a frightening gray color as her eyes glazed over. Jacob reacted an instant faster than Noah, grabbing her sinking body with one arm while trying to catch the baby up against her with the other. He managed quite well, making Noah's helping hands seem superfluous as he reached to assist. As soon as she was down, Jacob handed Noah his daughter and bent over his wife to check her pulse and her clammy skin.

"This is too much. It is too soon after the baby for this to keep happening to her," Jacob bit out as he watched his beloved mate succumb to yet another harrowing vision, very likely about Elijah and the fate he had met. "Noah, I think we better call Gideon. The pregnancy was hard enough, what with Ruth's attack on her and everything else. I do not like her color, and her heart is racing at an insane pace."

"Legna is not here anymore," Noah reminded him. "The only way I can get her attention from here would be to set something near him on fire, and that is not exactly something I feel comfortable doing even with my skill."

"Well, I cannot exactly grow a tree under him either," Jacob barked, not marking the tone in his voice in his worry. "And I am too exhausted to drag him here as dust, even if he were not thousands of miles away. Put the baby in her crib and go find a Mind Demon who can either contact Legna so she can teleport them both here, or who can teleport him themselves."

Jacob and Noah both looked to Isabella when she uttered a hoarse, incomprehensible phrase. However, there was structure to it that Noah thought he recognized. Bella had an affinity for languages that had come with her Druidic powers, so it did not surprise him that a foreign tongue would be part of her visions.

Still, since neither of them recognized it offhand, it meant nothing to them until she came out of her visionary trance and could explain it to them. That was providing she could explain it. Bella's sight was often more cryptic than not.

"They get stronger and stronger and she gets weaker. What good is a hellish power like this?" her fearful husband asked bitterly. "Sometimes," he said hoarsely, "I wish I had never touched her. She would not be suffering like this if—"

"Jacob, stop it," Noah said sharply. "You do not mean that and you know it. You would be lost without her and you would not have this beautiful babe. I swear I am going to pass a law against the guilt you browbeat yourself with constantly. And Isabella will be happy to enforce it for me."

Noah moved across the room to settle the baby back into her crib. He twisted into a column of smoke a moment later, leaving his Enforcers behind as he sailed out of a window in search of help.

Magdelegna sat up out of a sound sleep with a loud, fearful cry. Instinctively, her hands slid over the little mound of her belly as if protecting the babe within from whatever had disturbed her. She was aware of Gideon coming awake beside her, sitting up and turning protectively toward her. Her husband instantly gathered her to himself, the warmth of his bare skin and fit, male form incredibly comforting as he wrapped his arms around her.

"What is it, Neliss ?" he asked softly, pressing gentle lips to the curve of her cheek.

"A dream … I think," she said.

Gideon pulled back to lock his silvered gaze with hers, his equally silver brows pulling down in a frown of concern.

"You keep having these nightmares. I am beginning to wonder if this is not a form of premonition like Bella's. We have been waiting for some other changes in your abilities, perhaps it has been here all this time." Gideon reached to stroke the backs of his fingers slowly down the copious length of Legna's coffee-colored hair. "Tell me what you dreamed, Nelissuna."

"It was about Elijah. Something was very wrong. I cannot recall specifics though. Sweet Destiny, I despise this," she said wearily, rubbing at her temples. "If this is what you suspect, I see now why Bella dislikes this particular type of ability."

Gideon reached to touch gentle fingertips to Legna's forehead, closed his eyes a moment, sending a sensation of calm and healing energy into her. It relieved her tension instantly as she smiled a soft, contented smile.

It lasted for a second, then Legna gasped harshly, almost cracking her head into her husband's as she sat up once more, her eyes wide and her hand slamming into her forehead as she was bludgeoned with a painful cry of distress.

"Noah?"

"Okay, this is not a dream," Gideon said darkly, hurdling over her to get out of bed and pull her to her feet. "What is occurring?"

"I do not know. We had better go. Right away."

"Agreed. Though I would recommend clothing before teleportation."

The jest was just what she needed, making her laugh softly in relief of tension. They dressed quickly and, minutes later, Legna was teleporting them the long distance to her brother's home.

Elijah was the first to wake well after night had fallen.

He opened his eyes and quickly became aware of his surroundings.

The first thing he noticed was that he was trapped beneath the weight of a heavily sleeping Lycanthrope female. His chest hurt, the healing wound being pulled by how she was sprawled over him, but he barely noticed it. Instead, he was fascinated by the slow creep of the soft tendrils of her hair as they slid over his skin.

He was completely entangled, between her hair and her limbs, but it was the touch of those living fingers of hair that truly held him still. The strands were twisted into satiny sheaves, snaking over his chest, around his biceps, over his hips and thighs with a breathtaking, subconscious sensuality. He had known about the changelings' living hair, unique to their species, for centuries, but only for purposes of defeating them. If the hair was bound up, the Lycanthrope could not change form. It could literally drive them out of their minds if they were left that way for a week or more. Also, if severed it could cause severe blood loss and could even kill them pretty much on the spot. A shearing of that kind would be similarly lethal to them as third-degree burns over a massive percentage of the body would mean almost certain death for a human.

He had never considered this, however—this silken caress that could stimulate a man from head to toe with its sensual touch. He was very aware of the agonizing response of his body, and that it seemed to draw the flirtatious touch of the curling locks. Elijah groaned softly as the ghosting caress skimmed erotically over the hardened steel of his aroused body. He felt the painful throb of his own pulse beneath that wicked, engulfing stroke. He could not even think, had no hope of devising a way of stopping this devastatingly perfect torture.

Siena literally purred in her sleep. The rumbling trill of sound vibrated from her entire torso, drumming like a gentle massage along the side of his body she was snuggled up against. Her leg slid restlessly over his, her calf slipping up toward his thigh, bringing her knee up between his legs. Elijah closed his eyes tightly, as if bracing for a dangerous impact, but he was not afraid of her causing him physical harm in the expected sense. He reached out to stay her with a hand on that traveling knee. Bad enough her hair was teasing the hell out of him, he didn't need the feel of her skin against him on top of it.

No matter how much he found himself craving it.

Elijah tried to take a deep, steadying breath, but all he did was fill his lungs with her sweet, tempting scent. He was sweating all along the left side of his body, where hers was so cozy against him. By virtue of her species, she was naturally several degrees hotter than his normal body temperature, but it seemed even more of an extreme in differences as she slept, her damp forehead rubbing restlessly against him. She reeked of their combined scents, just as he did, and he could not escape noticing how erotic and sensual a scent it was. His body throbbed deeply with surges of need, with inexplicable urges to roll over and slide her beneath him. Graphic fantasies played on from that point, involving her taste, her touch, and how hot she felt just along the outside of her body. It was agonizingly easy to understand just how that heat might feel if he were inside her.

His heart began to trip in double time as he realized he had better get as far away from her as he could before he made another Samhain-driven attack on her unsuspecting body. He was soon to realize, however, that disentangling himself from her hair was not going to be at all possible without her cooperation. Not unless he changed form, and, as she had pointed out earlier, it would not be the wisest thing for him to do. Wounds had a way of reopening and even worsening if not given proper healing before attempting such a shift in form. All but the iron wounds and the one in his chest had reached that healing point, but those remaining four would do enough damage.

His only choice was to wake her.

It was, of course, going to be incredibly embarrassing for her. If he could say he knew anything about her, he could definitely assure himself of that.

Elijah had a sudden idea.

He closed his eyes, concentrating carefully on the air in the room. He had to be very cautious, but he slowly lowered the oxygen level in the room. As the breathable air diminished, Siena's body reacted naturally with a cough reflex. She gasped slightly, her subconscious refocusing from whatever it was that compelled her seeking hair, to a more distinct self-preservation instinct.

He had gambled on those instincts, and they paid off.

She turned away from him restlessly, her hair releasing and surging into tight, protective coils around her. She coughed in earnest, surprisingly enough without awakening. Now that he was freed, everyone's pride intact whether it was realized or not, Elijah drew a fresh breeze into the room from the front of the cavern. Siena took several breaths immediately, the perspiration on her forehead evaporating in a minute.

Elijah launched out of the bed the minute he was able and backed away from her as if she were some kind of biological contaminant. But in a way, that was exactly what she was. The warrior found a fresh towel to wrap himself in, making a mental note to get himself something resembling actual clothing as soon as possible. He moved into the next room quickly, running both hands through his tangled hair. His own movements made him aware of the fact that her scent was all over him. He swore solemnly as he marched to the biting cold of the mineral pool. It would set him straight like nothing else could in that moment. Leaving his "clothing" behind, he dropped into the pool and completely immersed himself in its startling cold. Being of the air, Elijah was an expert at manipulating his need for oxygen. He remained submerged for several minutes, until he was chilled to his core, before surfacing. He stood to check his bandages, shrugging off the fact that he had a trail of blood and water sliding down his belly. It was minute and well worth the removal of the enchanting scent Siena trailed around wherever she went.

He had to get the hell out of there.

This would only get worse the closer they got to Samhain and stayed together under the influence of the full moon. Certainly, when she woke, Siena would agree with him about abandoning this place and going separate ways.

Provided she was well enough.

But if he was asked, he would have said she seemed too damned healthy as it was.

Legna sat down in her husband's lap with a sigh, her head dropping onto his shoulder as she searched for comfort. Gideon's hand went to her back and rubbed it soothingly.

"She looks so pale," she murmured.

Gideon turned his eyes onto the woman who slept fitfully in the bed nearby. Legna was correct. Isabella was far too pale. In fact, she was anemic. It was a common ailment in human females after giving birth, and it had been exacerbated by all the exertion she had taken part in since then. It was something Gideon could not cure her of. Anemia in humans, even human/Druid hybrids, was caused by a lack of iron in the bloodstream. Iron was the one thing Gideon could not manipulate. Not without making himself very ill. He couldn't afford to make himself deathly ill when his wife was expecting and their daily life in the Lycanthrope court was still so potentially dangerous.

He could have performed a transfusion from her sister, Corrine, under normal circumstances, but Corrine and Kane, her husband, were nowhere to be found at the moment. Jacob had tried to contact his brother through their own personal telepathic link, but the young Mind Demon had not responded. The link was not strong to begin with, being mostly supported by Kane's telepathic abilities, and apparently Kane was too distant and too preoccupied to notice the small plea for attention calling into the back of his mind. If he had noticed it, he would have teleported himself to Noah's home instantly. But these things were to be expected from a fledgling. Kane was close to his adult stage, about to reach his hundredth year, but in spite of his strengths also had many weaknesses to yet overcome.

"Jacob is fetching foods dense with iron and protein for her. It will help a great deal," he assured his wife, knowing she felt her friend's sickness keenly.

Legna's empathic abilities had intensified dramatically since their joining, a result of how a Demon Imprinting so deeply stirred together the male and female's power, as well as their hearts and souls. Being an Ancient, Gideon's supremacy of energy was phenomenal, and like nothing Legna could have ever expected. She was still adjusting to the overwhelming source of it six months later.

As a result, she was often besieged by the magnified feelings of those she cared about. She was learning to control the intensity of this growing potential but had not made enough progress as yet to keep herself from being swept up in the pains, as well as the joys, of others.

"I feel like a fledgling all over again," she complained, reading his thoughts straight out of his mind. Though she was not a telepath, by nature of her sex, she and Gideon shared a specially formed link that kept them constantly within one another's thoughts. It was the same for Jacob and Bella and all other Imprinted pairs.

"You are too hard on yourself, Neliss ," he soothed, pressing a kiss into her forehead. "You are in danger of sounding like Jacob," he teased, knowing that Jacob's constant self-reprisals had a habit of getting under her skin.

"Please, you will make me toss my cookies," she said wryly.

"Toss your cookies?" Gideon laughed at the phrase.

"I know, I know … I sound like Bella." Legna giggled in spite of herself. "I cannot help it. She used that term her entire pregnancy. It rubbed off."

"So I see," he murmured, reaching to cover her belly with one broad palm. His fingers looked graceful in that way he had, curving over their hidden baby with tenderness and affection.

That was the moment Noah entered the room.

Gideon was happy to see his wife did not move or react in any way. She had a terrible habit of jumping away from him whenever her brother showed up. But as Noah continued to accept their union, she seemed to be less self-conscious.

"I am simply too tired to move," she whispered defiantly.

"Then for once I am glad of your exhausted state," he whispered back.

"Hello," Noah greeted them quietly, moving closer to his sister and brother-in-law so he wouldn't disturb their patient. "How is she?"

"Weak," Gideon said. "And worsening. I put her into a deep sleep, but she still seems to be having her visions."

Noah turned to look at Bella, watching carefully as she twitched restlessly.

"Has she said anything useful? Do you know why she is being beat to death by her own power? I have never seen so much harm caused by one's own abilities."

"I believe I may have to resort to calling in a male Mind Demon. Legna's empathy is not enough to soothe her. Perhaps a full telepath will be able to set her apart from these visions."

"That would drive Jacob up a wall. A male Mind Demon would probably have to use hands-on techniques, and you know how Jacob reacts to other men touching Bella."

"I think he has gotten better over these past months," Legna said. "He actually reached a point where he was not at all upset when Gideon came to give her checkups."

"That is because he knew that an Imprinted Demon would never be a threat," Gideon said dryly. "I am yours lock, stock, and proverbial barrel, my sweet, and I could not look elsewhere even if I tried."

"True," Legna giggled, closing her eyes and snuggling even closer to her mate.

Noah watched the tenderness between them with a combination of joy and hurt. He was happy to see his littlest sister so content and well cared for. There was no one as powerful as the Ancient Body Demon who held her so closely, and she would be protected by him to his last breath if it came down to such a choice. This contented the King deeply. He could not have parted with Magdelegna as abruptly as he had if he could not be assured of her safety.

He had gotten over Legna's absence from his home for the most part. She had lived with him for almost three hundred years. He had raised her from a small child after their parents' deaths, so he had missed her terribly when first she had left him. But the adjustment was coming along quite a bit easier than he would have expected of himself.

So why did he feel so empty when he watched her and Gideon together?

He had not enjoyed the choice of mate Destiny had pressed onto his sister for many reasons in the beginning, but now he would have no other for her, after seeing how devoted to her Gideon truly was. So he could not blame the vacancies of his heart on the medic.

Noah shook off the feelings shadowing his soul before his sister became aware of them, and subsequently disturbed by them. She was taxed enough without adding his personal deficiencies to her worry load. He excused himself and went back down to the hall so he could brood over books he probably would not try to read in any sincerity, while waiting for Jacob to return.

"Anya, you worry too much. Siena always does this. Especially in the fall."

Anya turned to look at her companion with the flicker of eyes so dark they were easily labeled black. Syreena was unperturbed by Anya's glare and crossed her slim legs casually to add punctuation to her unconcerned manner.

Anya was a half-breed Lycanthrope who was the result of what happened when a human and Lycanthrope had children. Unlike in Demon society, mating with humans was not forbidden to changelings and not punished when attempted. But it was generally frowned on because it took a very special person to be capable of being brought into their fold, and it had to be a total commitment or none at all, because the risk of exposure to the public was too great. It was bad enough as it was with the hunters and magic-users pursuing their existence. It was a horrifying thought to consider what might happen if the entire human race came to understand that myths and legends were more often true than not.

A half-bred Lycanthrope could not shapechange, but instead maintained a human form with all the, mostly nonvisible, traits of the animal they could have become had they been full-bred. In Anya's case, she was part fox. She had the sleek, pointed grace of a vixen to her features, a beautiful delicacy that made her appear deceptively fragile. She was a redhead, though the color of her hair changed seasonally between bright auburn, brownish red, and various other degrees of the shade. At the moment that meant the myriad browns and reddish browns that came with the fall.

She was slim, petite, and one of Siena's most trusted companions. Anya was to the Queen what Elijah was to Noah. The head of her armies, her lead assassin and infiltrator, and the one person who could vex her and make her laugh all in the same breath. It was a distinction of rank no half-breed had ever had in the Lycanthrope court and royal family before.

The second female was Syreena, Siena's younger sister and heir to the throne in the event Siena did not have children. She had been called home and risen to the position of court advisor upon her sister's ascension to the throne for very clear reasons. Firstly, she was a wise counselor, a fearless advocate for her sister's wishes, and the only one who could gainsay the Queen without worrying about being banished from court. But what made her truly unique, one of the most unique Lycanthropes alive, was the fact that Syreena was the only living Lycanthrope who could transform into five distinct forms.

Every full Lycanthrope had three forms. The human, the Lycanthrope, and the animal, with the Lycanthrope being the Werecreature, half-human half-animal, like Siena's Werecat form.

Syreena had two others.

It was generally believed that the anomaly had been caused by a life-threatening illness she had suffered during her adolescence. It had almost killed her, this mysterious illness, but having survived it she had become mutated in some way that, once she became capable of changing, she realized she was privy to two different genres of form. It had often been jokingly referred to as the Lycanthrope version of a split personality. This description was not too far off from the truth on many, many levels.

To begin with, her two animal shapes could not have been more opposite of one another. The first was of a peregrine falcon, a sharp-eyed hunter in flight. The second was of a bottle-nosed dolphin, a playful water creature with inconceivable intelligence. Though characteristics of both these creatures were quite apparent in her human form, such as her keen judgment and her fearless predatory nature, it was the peculiar nature of owning two so opposite Wereforms that made her somewhat unpredictable.

As a human, Syreena was slim and light, looking very much like a delicate bird but moving with the sleek grace and speed of her dolphin half. Her hair was split down a center part, one half a beautiful multitude of feather-soft browns, the other a sleek iron gray. Her eyes were dual-colored as well, but like the harlequin, the gray eye was on the side where the brown hair was, and the brown eye in its opposite position. Though this seemed extreme, it somehow worked to make her look quite exotic and unique outwardly, a handsome reflection of her nature overall.

Syreena was an anomaly, yes, but she was a precious one. She was in great demand by those who considered her nothing short of perfection. To be one such graceful and wonderful form was enough to put her genetic code in demand, but two? The power her stock could potentially have was something many coveted, provided she could pass the mutation on to her young. But it was clearly a chance many were eager to take.

Syreena herself, however, felt harangued by the covetous attention she received, and as a result had completely buried herself in her work as her sister's advisor. She had made herself just as inapproachable as Siena had, but for very different reasons. Syreena actually craved a mate and family, but she trusted no Lycanthropes' motives or intentions. It was rather like wealthy and famous people who could never be sure what motivated others to become their friends.

"Siena does not disappear without a trace," Anya continued to point out to the counselor. "If she's going to spend time away, she always tells me so. You are only just beginning to become reacquainted with your sister. I have known the Queen all of my life and she does not always do this."

"I have been back to court since the war ended," Syreena said, her tone reflecting how she did not appreciate being reminded that the half-breed across from her could be considered more of a sister to Siena than the Princess and heir apparent could. "I think it is safe to say I have learned enough about my sister in the past fourteen years."

"No insult intended" Anya apologized in solemnity. "Forgive me, I am just worried."

"If you are so concerned, why not send out some of the Elite to search for her?"

"I would," Anya hesitated, "but if it is solitude she is seeking and I should happen to disturb it, she will be livid and I will find myself leashed to her throne."

That made Syreena laugh. The Princess tossed back her bicolored hair and grinned at Anya.

"What a pair we are. I do not believe we would know a vacation if it came up and bit us on the flank. What we should be doing is preparing for the Samhain festival."

"What are you going to do at the festival? Cross your legs and be a voyeur?" Anya teased her.

The Samhain festival always ended with hundreds of entwined bodies scattered behind the trees and bushes of the forest just beyond the castle and the village. Syreena had no mate, and due to the same restrictions Siena suffered under, she could take but one lover in her lifetime.

"You know, you are fortunate that our Queen adores you," Syreena threatened with a sparkle in her eye. "Else I would leash you to the throne myself." The Princess sobered quickly. "You have me worrying now. I think I will skim some of the territory."

Syreena stood up and tossed her hair over so that the gray side was buried beneath the brown. The brown hair immediately began to slip over her body. Feathers and wings replaced humanity, and in a breathless flash of speed that Anya could not help but admire, Syreena took wing across the throne room's vaulted ceilings.

She soared out of the underground castle in an instant, leaving Anya alone with her worries. At that moment, however, all Anya could do was marvel over the Princess's abilities. There was no Lycanthrope alive who could change that fast. Perhaps Siena, but she would have to work extremely hard at it or be startled into the change.

Anya both did and did not envy those who were full-blooded changelings. On the one hand, most changelings could change form at will. It was a handy skill that would have been a tremendous asset to the General of the Lycanthrope Queen's armies. And besides that, it seemed like so much fun to be able to experience the world as an animal.

In the con list was the tendency Lycanthropes had toward less controllable animalistic behaviors. Though those with great strength like Siena and Syreena could control most of these urges, the majority of the population tended to be less assertive over their baser natures. Anya enjoyed the instincts she had been born with; they made her a determined fighter and an excellent strategist. But she would hate being under the impulse of her instincts. Control meant everything to her.

In that moment, control meant taking some action of her own. Syreena had given her an idea. She could send out those of her Elite who were aviary. As birds they could skim the land quickly and out of immediate notice. Siena might sense one of them passing by, but so long as they kept going they would not disturb her if indeed it was solitude that had drawn her away.

If it was something else, Anya would not be able to forgive herself for not acting. Siena was indeed her sister, and she was a friend as well. She would be remiss if she did not think of the Queen's protection at all times. These times above others especially.

Siena was a remarkable leader with unequaled skill at her position. Though Syreena could step into her place if needed, the Princess did not have the same affinity with the people Siena did. Syreena had lived a great deal of her lifetime in the monastic enclosure of The Pride. Like those great and wise teachers, she knew more about her studies than she did about relating to others. This often showed during gatherings and it made others just as uncomfortable as it made her. Siena was the leader the Lycanthropes needed in this era. There could be no substitute, especially not the markedly antisocial Princess. Her time would perhaps come one day, but hopefully that would be a long time into the future, long after Siena's influence of peace and wisdom had erased the bloodthirsty legacy their father had left in his wake.

The remark about preparing for Samhain had been a jest. Syreena would not be found anywhere near the festivities and intense crowds of that celebration. Siena had thought to try and draw her out this year as insistently as she could, and this was why her absence sat so unwell with Anya. Siena could not coax her sister into joining the party if she was not here to do it, and it had been practically all she had talked about for weeks now.

No.

Something was not right.

Anya strode out of the throne room to find her Elite and see if she couldn't put that feeling of wrong back to right.