Of course, he’d had first-hand knowledge of the castle, even before Himmler’s renovations, since this was one of the places Fer-Diorich had held him. Before the crypt had been installed, the underground area of several previous castles had been his prison, where he had undergone all sorts of torture.
“Why are we here?” he growled.
“Relax, wolf. While you remember this as your prison, it is now owned and occupied by Nazi filth.”
Émilien raised one brow as he gave the Fae a sideways glance. “Nazi filth? I assumed you would agree with their motives and death marches. After all, you excelled at them.”
“You assumed wrong. While I admire their determination, I don’t agree with their motives or how they’re going about it. Life is precious and shouldn’t be squandered on such a ridiculous theory as their Aryan race. There is no such thing.” He held up his hand, and Émilien snapped shut his jaws. “I create life, not destroy it.”
Émilien frowned as one word the Fae had just whispered resonated. “Wait...now? What year is this?”
“It is 1945. March third , to be exact. A familiar date to you, is it not?”
“Why are we here?” The roiling in his gut worsened, and Émilien almost wished he hadn’t asked the question. Sometimes, not knowing was the better deal.
“We are here to reverse what you did that day, wolf. I need those notes back. There was more in that book than you can conceive. I have spells for healing and creation, other than your kind, and even discovered how to reverse death. So many hundreds of years of experiments, only to have you ruin it all in one moment of stupidity.”
“Some things are not meant to be, Fae. You know this. Things like reversing death go against the cycle of life.”
“Yes and no. Have you ever asked why those who have good hearts and are worthy of happiness are killed, while the corrupt and evil live? I’ve thought about that concept for many hours, and if I can change even one needless death, I will.”
Émilien frowned at the man standing beside him. Fer-Diorich had either become a proficient actor, or he had truly changed. After what he had put him through so long ago, he doubted the latter. Fer-Diorich was overly ambitious and driven by something deep inside him, something relentless and unforgiving, just like the man himself.
“You sound as if you actually care, FD.” Émilien’s gaze narrowed. “Why aren’t you rescuing your own book? Why do you need me to do it for you?”
The Fae’s expression turned sour. “Because once that idiot of a human saw what he had in his hands, he had enough insight to spell the castle against all Fae.”
Émilien raised one brow. “And where would he have found a spell like that?”
Fer-Diorich scowled at him. “In my book—where else would he have found it? I used it to keep the other Fae from poking their overly inquisitive noses into my business.”
Emilien shook his head. “I think you’re all idiots. We are wasting precious time in finding Hel. What is my task?”
“I need you to enter and remain unseen, just as you did that day. Make your way to the lowest part of the castle and find the hidden door in the darkest section. Retrieve my book and bring it back to me.”
“You don’t ask much, do you?”
Silver eyes speared his. “I could ask so much more, but for now, this is what I desire of you. Youmustreturn my book to me. If not, your wife will pay for your failure. I may not know where she is now, but I will.”
“I knew you were still a bastard.”
The Fae’s brow rose. “Oh, I am so much more than that, my dear wolf. So very much more.”
18
Hel stared at Émilien from the corner of the room where she and Morrigan hid. Throwing a questioning glance at the Celtic goddess, she returned her gaze to the love of her life. While she had been in denial for the last millennia, she could no longer tell herself she was better off without him in her life. He was her everything. Her past, present, and future. She just hadn’t been able to see that through her resentment and anger.
“Please don’t let me be too late,” she prayed.
“It is never too late when you love someone. He still loves you, so fight for him as he fights for you,” Morrigan whispered in her ear. “He threatens one of the most dangerous men I have ever known—and does it for you. A love that true and pure is so rare. You are a very lucky woman, Hel.”
“I don’t feel very lucky most days. How is it possible we stand in the same room and can talk, but they neither see nor hear us?”
“My magic is strong, and when my sisters share their powers with me, together we are stronger than Fer-Diorich. Stronger than almost everyone, truth be told.”
Across the room, Émilien turned to the Dark Fae, stepping up to him with an angry snarl, but the immortal remained calm, taking whatever verbal abuse her mate gave him. The Fae’s black brow rose as he responded then turned on one heel and left the room without a backward glance. Émilien turned to where they stood, his black gaze narrowed as he stared at them.
“He is strong,” Morrigan said with admiration. “Only a few have the ability to sense beyond my shield.”