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“Sorry this has been so rough on you,” he breathed.

I let out a choked laugh. “Me? You’re the one who’s gotten slashed up, shot up and beaten to a pulp recently.”

He waved a hand, as if those were only minor nuisances. “I’ve been through much worse, and for a lot longer.”

That’s right, Demetrius had spent decades training Adrian under extremely brutal circumstances, all so Adrian could become the most lethal Judian who’d ever lived. Half-Judian, a dark inner whisper reminded me. The other half was demon. His lineage literally consisted of “evil” and “more evil.” What would Adrian do once he found that out? Would it change his determination to help me fight against demons and minions? Could he bring himself to stand with me against Demetrius, if he knew that Demetrius was his real father?

I pushed those thoughts back. Half, whole, whatever Adrian was, I trusted him. More than that, I loved him. That’s why when he murmured, “Stay here, Ivy. Costa’s cell is soaked, so I need to get to a phone to call my friend,” and then left me alone in the park, I stayed.

Two hours later, I was worried enough about him to regret this decision. I started heading out of the park, determined to look for Adrian, when I saw a figure running toward me and realized that it was him.

“I’ve got a car waiting at the entrance,” he said, grabbing my hand. Then he yelled out, “Brutus! You need to follow us.”

The gargoyle, who’d waited with me while Adrian was away, chuffed in understanding. Then he flapped his great wings and soared above us as I followed Adrian out of the park.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

BY “CAR,” ADRIAN meant limousine, I soon found out. All the mirrors on it had been removed, and in the plush interior, on one of the leather seats, a long coat, new clothes, shoes and, more important, food, were waiting for me. I’d mostly dried off by now, but I still changed into the new bra, underwear and ankle-length pink dress while holding the coat over me for modesty’s sake. Adrian turned away as well while I changed, but that was probably to hide his smile. Yes, I knew I was being ridiculous, and yet still, I couldn’t bring myself to strip naked in front of him. Plus, though the driver’s privacy window was up, there was someone else in the car with us, too.

Adrian must have changed clothes on the way to getting me. He’d traded his denim pants and T-shirt for a pair of black slacks and a formal white shirt that looked like it could’ve been paired with a tuxedo. I would’ve asked where he got such nice clothes for the both of us, but the delicious smells emanating from the plastic covered container took priority.

After I wolfed down the food, which turned out to be an unexpectedly fancy meal of filet minion, mashed potatoes and mixed grilled vegetables, I finally put on my new shoes. Once I did, I decided I might never take them off. My poor feet were bruised, cracked and split in so many places from running around barefoot, a pedicurist would scream in horror if she saw them.

Now fed, clothed and properly shod, I asked the obvious question. “Who is your friend in this city? Donald Trump?”

He snorted. “No. He’s a hotel manager. This is the hotel limo, and he got our clothes and food from the hotel, too.”

“Oh.” Made sense. Then I added, “I hope he doesn’t get in trouble for all this.”

Adrian gave me a sideways smile. “He won’t. He’s on good terms with the hotel’s owner.”

“What’s that for?” I asked, gesturing to a large cooler shoved against the limo’s other section of seats.

Adrian glanced at it. “Hunks of raw meat for Brutus, in case he doesn’t get lucky with fish in the bay later.”

I leaned back against the leather seats. Even with Adrian’s large frame filling up half this section, it was so spacious that I almost could’ve stretched out. I didn’t, of course. I was so tired, I’d probably pass out, and we still had work to do.

“You found out where the old chapel site is?”

He nodded, looking thoughtful. “It’s at an old estate in Jericho, Long Island. Actually, I, ah, know the place.”

“You do?” I asked in surprise.

For some reason, he seemed uneasy about the topic. “Yes, but I didn’t notice anything special about the chapel back then.”

“What is this place? Why were you there?”

He shifted in his seat, as if suddenly having trouble getting comfortable. “It used to be a huge chateau, but it nearly burned to the ground back in the 1960s. There’s not much left of it now. Just servants’ quarters, stables, that sort of thing.”

I didn’t know if this really was a sore subject for him, or if my being overly tired was the reason why it seemed like he was avoiding my question. “And how did you know it?” I repeated.

His face became shuttered, confirming my suspicions. “Because Demetrius was the one who set it on fire.”

“What?” I asked with a gasp.

His shoulders tightened. “The sixties were around the time that I started exploring the human world. Long Island wasn’t far from the Bennington realm, and the couple who owned the chateau traveled a lot. So, when I was in the area and they weren’t home, I used to stay there.”

My mouth was still agape. “You squatted in their house?”

He gave me a glare that was half defensive, half arrogant. “I was used to ruling my own realm. It gave me expensive tastes, but I didn’t want to leave a money trail that Demetrius could follow. Needless to say, he didn’t encourage my explorations in the human world.”

I could figure out the rest. “So, when Demetrius found out that you regularly crashed at this chateau, he burned it down out of spite?”

Adrian’s smile held all the iciness of a demon realm. “And told me he’d do the same to any other human place I frequented.”

That sounded like Demetrius, but I was struck by something else. “You realize that you happened to stay at two out of the three places where the staff has been,” I pointed out.

He opened his mouth to speak, then paused. “If the staff’s at the old Graenan estate, that’s true,” he finally said.

I grunted. “Proving once again that fate has a twisted sense of humor.”

The staff might have been right under Demetrius’s nose when he set that fire, and he hadn’t known it. Thank God that demons didn’t have the ability to sense hallowed objects, or Demetrius could’ve sent the realm walls crashing down decades ago.

Beyond the window, buildings and urban areas were starting to be replaced by trees and a much more rural-looking setting.

“Let’s hope the staff is still there,” I said, giving Adrian a tired, if impish, smile. “If you send Demetrius a selfie of you holding it next to that house’s ruins, he might combust with rage and save us the trouble of killing him.”

* * *

THE FORMER CHATEAU was on over ten acres of land in an area where the other estates also had a lot of elbow room. Obviously, this area still catered to the wealthy. We had to park outside the estate’s closed gates, and if we’d been in a regular car instead of a limo, I felt sure that someone would’ve called the police to report an attempted robbery.

Of course, our fancy ride wasn’t the only thing that helped. The late hour did, too. At just after three in the morning, any normal resident would be in bed. If I didn’t have a life-or-death task in front of me, that’s where I’d be. Jet lag had nothing on realm lag. I’d been bouncing back and forth between so many time zones without sleep; if I started speaking in tongues out of sheer exhaustion, I wouldn’t be surprised.

That’s why I didn’t object when, safely out of sight from our limo driver, Adrian had Brutus land and then we climbed on his back. I might not like traveling via Gargoyle Airlines, but I didn’t think I had a ten-acre trek in me at the moment.

Brutus had barely taken off when my hallowed sensors started to perk up. They grew stronger over the time it took him to fly us to the ruins, and when he set us down next to the charred remains of an abandoned chateau, they were vibrating.

“Feel anything?” Adrian asked.

“Yep,” I responded. “For starters, now I’m awake, and the readings I’m getting feel stronger than the ones in France.”


Tags: Jeaniene Frost Broken Destiny Fantasy