Midnight's Flight: The Cynn Cruors Bloodline Series, #8

By Isobelle Cate

Mistrust. 

It was all Adara did.

Fear.

It was all she ever knew.

Adara Kerslake has kept her identity a secret from the Cynn Cruors for as long as she can remember. When Cynn Cruor warrior, Luke Griffiths, comes hurtling into her life, she flounders. Afraid of dealing with the Cynn Cruors and the man who captured her heart, she leaves, burning bridges in the process. Until a loved one forces her to rebuild those links that brings her back into the world she fought so hard to escape from.

Luke goes into a spiral after Adara leaves and it is only by the strength and love of his Cynn Cruor brethren and their women that keeps him from tripping into insanity. To forget her, he prepares to leave for the Ancients' Faesten in Anglesey on a mission that can lead to his death. When Adara returns, the last thing Luke wants is to get involved again. But he can't stay away. What's more, someone in the Ancients' Faesten in Anglesey knows who she is and is out to kill her.

Two missions merge to one. A desire to know the truth becomes entangled with the desire that never waned between Adara and Luke.

Until a spectre from Adara's past threatens them both…and brings in a new enemy for the Cynn Cruors.

***CONTENT WARNING: This story contains adult situations and intended for audiences 18+ ONLY*** While characters from the other books have cameo roles in this novel, this book can be read as a standalone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Isobelle Cate
• Release date: Sep 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781393104841

Book preview

by

Isobelle Cate

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

MIDNIGHT’S FLIGHT

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2018 © Isobelle Cate

Cover: Down Write Nuts

Formatting: Down Write Nuts

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

Contents

Glossary of terms:

Playlist:

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Nine

Epilogue

About The Author: Isobelle Cate

This novel is written in British English and the nuances in dialogue are based on the characters’ sense and sensibilities.

Mistrust.

It was all Adara did.

Fear.

It was all she ever knew.

Adara Kerslake has kept her identity a secret from the Cynn Cruors for as long as she can remember. When Cynn Cruor warrior, Luke Griffiths, comes hurtling into her life, she flounders. Afraid of dealing with the Cynn Cruors and the man who captured her heart, she leaves, burning bridges in the process. Until a loved one forces her to rebuild those links that brings her back to the world she fought so hard to escape from.

And to the warrior whose passion haunts her every sleeping and waking moment.

Luke goes into a spiral after Adara leaves and it is only by the strength and love of his Cynn Cruor brethren and their women that keeps him from tripping into insanity. To forget her, he prepares to leave for the Ancients’ Faesten in Anglesey on a mission that can lead to his death and the banishment of the Manchester Cynn Cruors if he isn’t careful. When Adara returns, the last thing Luke wants is to get involved again. But he can’t stay away. What’s more, someone in the Ancients’ Faesten in Anglesey knows who she is and is out to get her.

Two missions merge to one. A desire to know the truth becomes entangled with the desire that never waned between Adara and Luke.

Until a spectre from Adara’s past threatens them both...and brings in a new enemy for the Cynn Cruors.

Glossary of terms:

Dinnae fash – Do not worry

Gur math a thèid leat – Good luck

Ifrinn an Diabhuil – Devil’s Hell

Ifrinn – Hell

I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug! – I’ll give you a slap in the ear!

Ken/kent – Know/knew

Je ne sais pas ce qui se passe – I don’t know what is happening.

Thawb – ankle length garment used by Arabs similar to a kaftan or tunic

Playlist:

Naked – James Arthur

They Don’t Own Me – Richard Ashcroft

Little White Lies – Betsy

Cross Your Mind – Sabrina Claudio

Passport Home – JP Cooper

What About Now – Daughtry

Disappear – Evanescence

Never Let Me Go – Florence + The Machine

On My Side - Gordi

Natural – Imagine Dragons

Whatever It Takes – Imagine Dragons

Born To Be Yours – Kygo & Imagine Dragons

Change of Time – John Ritter

You Are The Reason – Calum Scott

Too Good at Goodbyes – Sam Smith

Fires and Flames – Tinashe

Someone To Stay – Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Wildfire – Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Faded – Alan Walker

Prologue

Cambusbarron, Stirlingshire

Scotland 1597

Adara watched the nightmare unfolding in front of her from behind the row of trees. The thick branches of evergreen camouflaged her. Neither the whistling of the wind on this unforgiving and rainy night nor the water that continuously trickled down to interrupt her vigil would make her leave.

A solitary figure broke away from a group of soldiers carrying torches held aloft to light their way. He banged the butt of his sword against the flimsy wooden door. Adara jerked involuntarily at the sound.

Open up!

A wail and then a scream issued from the tiny hut. The soldiers looked at each other uneasily. Adara’s lips flattened. Serves them right to hear a woman’s agony when in labour. That should plant the fear of pain their mothers, sisters, nieces, or daughters endured when they had to bring life into the world.

A guttural scream followed by choking sobs placed Adara’s teeth on edge and caused shudders to lick down her spine. The soldiers were not immune either. They ran their hands against their napes as though they were rubbing the fine hairs that rose at the sound.

The soldier butted the door once more.

Open up in the name of the king!

The door swung open. The soldier staggered back, his eyes filled with fear at the sight of the gentle features of the woman who greeted him. Unsheathed swords hissed against leather and wooden scabbards. Indrawn breaths of those present reached Adara’s ears.

Boann.

Would ye care tae help me bring a bairn into the world? Boann’s slight amused voice speared through the soldier who became redder under the fire’s glare.

Boann! The woman screamed from the confines of the hut. Please!

The husband came out, sweaty and ashen. His clothes were askew, as if he had been wringing them with his dirt encrusted hands. His thin face scrunched with worry when he saw who their visitors were. His visage, however, cleared when he approached one soldier wearing a cloak that hid his countenance.

The bairn is breached. Please dinnae let my Fiona die.

Adara didn’t dare breathe. Remembering what Boann taught her, she cloaked herself from the eyes of mortal men. It didn’t matter if it tired her. She could escape right now and leave everything behind.

She could not leave Boann to her fate.

No child. Ye canna be seen. Boann’s voice admonished her through the wind.

Adara watched the soldier remove his hood, his hand flicking it back. She stopped breathing glad she could do so for a length of time. The Kinaré would allow her to stop for as much as an hour as long as she remained still. Her gut didn’t need to tell her what to do or not to do—the face of the man was more than enough.

The same man Adara thought had died because she’d gutted him when she escaped his cruelty almost five years before. If Boann recognized him, she didn’t give it away.

The woman inside screamed once more.

Please! The husband begged.

What felt like an eternity was just a matter of seconds. The cloaked soldier relented with a stiff nod. The husband’s thanks were followed by his rush to his sobbing wife. Adara watched the soldier approach Boann who remained by the door.

See to your last victim, witch. You burn at the stake tomorrow.

Tears spilled down Adara’s cheeks while she watched the monster bark orders at his men.

Boann, look at me. Please.

Nay, child. I willna give ye away.

I’m so sorry.

Boann’s mouth lifted in a shadow of a smile before she returned inside the hut.

It isna yer fault.

Adara clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs and froze when the soldier suddenly looked at her direction. One of his men called out to him, breaking his focus, and he walked away.

Adara closed her eyes both in relief and anguish as her tears cascaded down her face.

Remember all that I taught ye, Adara. Find those who are just the same as ye.

Ye ask that of me, even after all this?

Aye.

Why?

Because ye doona ken how lonely life can be when yer alone.

Doona make me do it!

Ye must! Boann’s voice was firm, then more gently, Ye must.

Adara let her tears and sobs fall freely behind her hands, weeping as the woman who had been her mother—more than the one who birthed her—resigned herself to her fate with dignity.

Boann I canna let ye die!

My day has arrived, my child. I hae always kent this time would come. I just dinnae see it would be at the hands of the Cynn Cruors.

Chapter One

Manchester Faesten

Spring

––––––––

Luke stared out the window of his bedroom, his fingers curled around the object on his palm. He was trying not to crush it while he stared down the murky waters of the Rochdale Canal.

For once, he didn’t care there were four walls boxing him in. He could stay inside this luxurious room in the Faesten until hell froze over or they came to put him inside a casket. He didn’t fucking care.

Mullioned windows made up one entire wall. The special glass allowed light to come through without the harmful effects of the sun even on a cloudy day. It wasn’t the aesthetically correct design that made Luke remain inside. It didn’t even bother him that he was inside four walls. Unless he had to go out, he’d rather stay inside the vacant room that was no different from his increasingly empty heart.

There was a knock on the door before Roarke entered.

You okay?

Yeah, I’m fine. Luke replied in monotone.

You sure?

You planning on giving me the third degree, Dux? It’s not going to work.

Roarke closed the door behind him and joined Luke by the window. His massive frame and Luke’s slightly leaner one stood immobile while silence reigned. In the end, Luke expelled the breath he had been holding, afraid that if he let go, the physical pain would bring him down to his knees. The more he exhaled, the more intense the burn inside his chest became. Resigned, he let it in allowing the torment of loss take over like a black spectre blocking whatever light remained.

At least he was still standing.

I bared my heart to her, Dux. He couldn’t stop the bewilderment and hurt roll through him. I thought we had something.

Roarke let the silence drag on and for that, Luke was grateful. The last thing he needed was for his brethren to patronise him. He was going to make bloody sure he’d bounce back from this.

We can always try and find her.

Luke barked out a laugh. Like that’s going to solve anything. And how can we do that when there’s no link forged between us? Adara’s been successful in hiding from the Cynn Cruors for so long, do you think we have a chance in hell finding her now?

Roarke glanced sideways at him before moving away.

Suit yourself, he said. If you change your mind, let me know. In the meantime, we need your arse down in the nerve centre. The Hamilton will be linking up soon.

Luke grunted, shaking his head. The Hamilton? How the hell could Roarke call his own father by his patronym?

Roarke chuckled, hearing his thoughts. Because that’s just the way it is. Still can call him Da’ if I wanted to.

Luke stayed a little while longer by the window before he braced his arms on the sill, his shoulders slumped and his head hanging between them.

Fuck. He’d been so sure where they were going. Saw the signs he thought he saw until the rational side of his mind slung an upper cut into his brain.

It was what he wanted to see as opposed to what it really was.

Bloody shit.

After the Christmas dinner, neither of them wanted to return to his room, both suddenly shy. They prolonged the inevitable which just ramped up their desire. So he had taken Adara to look around the library, stealing kisses along the aisles until he found the small reading room just off the door leading to the warriors’ living quarters. And when he had taken her there...

Christ, it had been different. Adara hadn’t withheld anything. They both came not to strengthen the Kinaré in each other but to explore and enjoy each other’s bodies in the way they wanted. Luke just wanted to put his mouth on her, all over her. He wanted the taste of her skin and the sweetness of her mouth on his tongue. His fingers wanted her sweet nectar coating them, crowing in the knowledge that he had caused her pussy to weep. And when she came undone...Ancients! The way her pussy squeezed his fingers enough to make him want to find his own release.

But this was the woman he loved. The woman he knew in his heart was his mate. So Luke sought her pleasure first before his own. Every whimper Adara made, every cry and thrust of her pelvis against his pistoning cock, her breasts pillowed against his chest filled him with satisfaction that fuelled his lust. And sweet Jesus, he’d never seen a woman so beautiful when she came undone.

Back in his room, she had pleasured him, taking him into her mouth, pampering his head like it was her own special reserve ice cream.

He watched her pink tongue slide and glide over his hard shaft, hissing when her lips closed over the head. He lay back staring at the ceiling, his thighs and buttocks straining on the bed at the intense pleasure Adara blessed his sensitive cock with. She stroked his shaft just the way he liked it, that he blew his load over his stomach which she immediately licked.

Fucking hot.

She straddled him after, her eyes closed and lips parted, as she sank herself on him. Luke held her waist, letting her decide how fast or how slow she wanted him in and out of her warmth. When her pace increased and she was becoming incoherent and uncoordinated because she was in the throes of her release, Luke rolled them around so that she was under him and he took over, thrusting his cock in the angle she wanted. Adara’s cries increased begging him to fuck her hard when he bent her legs closer to her shoulders, allowing him to drive deeper into her.

Just. The. Fucking. Way. She. Liked. It.

Adara screamed his name and it was enough for him to tumble into pleasurable oblivion, his cock jutting out streams of his seed into her. Bathing her. Marking her.

Mine.

Later he spooned with her, something he’d never done before. Her warmth emanated through his body, strengthening him with her scent and her essence until he fell asleep with her in his arms.

When he woke, Adara was no longer in bed. Thinking she’d gone downstairs ahead of him for Boxing Day breakfast, he followed only to find his brethren with sombre faces and uncomfortable dispositions.

Until Roarke took him to the nerve centre and showed Luke the footage of Adara leaving the Faesten, her head covered by her coat’s hood. She crossed Princess Street briskly moving towards Canal Street, the rain pelting down on her. She didn’t even turn to look at the Faesten for the last time, dismissing them all as though the Faesten and the people inside it were not worth her time.

Refusing to believe she’d left, Luke had rushed back to the room that now had Adara’s imprint everywhere he turned. And there, under the tangle of sheets, was the pearl and diamond bracelet he had gifted her. Leaving it behind, it now had the patina of a piece of evidence in some Gone Girl crime scene. A tawdry trinket left, cast aside without value.

Stupid fool that he was, Luke waited. And waited, even after Roarke and the rest tried to ignore the elephant that had taken over the lobby, believing she’d come back or he’d wake up from this fucking nightmare. Only when New Year’s Eve came and went did he stop hoping she’d return.

Happy Fucking New Year to me.

Turning away from the window, Luke made his way to the door but not before he tossed the pearl and diamond bracelet on the bed.

A token of his love for the woman who didn’t love him back.

He ambled to the grand staircase, the tapestry of the Cynn Cruors origins blurring by. In the cloudy morning light, the corridor was dim, gloomy, appeared haunted and catered to the vampire side of his DNA. And like a spectre rising in front to meet him, Adara’s face appeared, with his heart rapping him not to give up so easily. Arguing with his psyche as though it was a living and breathing clone of himself etched a pull down of his brow. He refused to admit there was still a chance she would return. He wouldn’t have been adamant if Adara had waited for him to wake that fateful day so they could talk it over. They were two adults who didn’t need the element of subterfuge. After all, didn’t he consider the ramifications of asking Adara to wait for him while he spied on the Ancients? But no, she just hied off and left without even an I’ll-see-you-around.

He hadn’t told her then, too intent on making the most out of Christmas by making love to her. It should have been the best Christmas he could have had in his present life. Scratch that, in his entire life because he was with the woman who had his heart. And man, what a night! Adara had taken him to that place beyond rapture with her as she did with him. And though they hadn’t exchanged blood, Luke didn’t push. He believed it was going to be the first night of many nights he’d share with her so there would be time for that. Turned out it was going to be his last and he now knew why.

It was her way of saying goodbye.

Luke had hoped that by giving Adara the bracelet, she would see how precious she was. She left it instead. He should really feel relieved. By leaving that tangible piece of his heart on the side where she had slept, she’d offered him a way out for him to concentrate on the damnable mission that was asked of him. Hell, he might not even return alive if the Ancients knew. There was no truth in coincidences but this one might just be an exception. It would fill the chasm Adara had carved inside him by her departure.

When he reached the lobby, his gaze trained on the Manchester Faesten’s seal on the marble. The symbol of the brotherhood he now belonged to. He saw the women in the kitchen and they all looked at him and waved.

Eirene opened the glass door.

Griffiths, if you want any of the bacon you better get in here, she said in mock warning. I can’t guarantee there’ll still be any left in the next five minutes. Then again, you can settle for coffee, tea, or some eggs and Cumberlands.

Luke’s lips pulled up to a wry grin. He sauntered towards her. Don’t you know your favourite food is a highly volatile source of bad cholesterol?

Yeah so sue me. She shrugged, her thick grey merino jumper falling off one shoulder. She smiled but not before Luke caught the brief sadness darkening her sable coloured eyes for a split second.

Next to Deanna, Eirene was the second mother hen. She always wanted everyone to be together.

His stomach growled the minute he entered the kitchen. The aroma of coffee, bacon, Cumberland sausages, mushrooms, eggs, waffles and maple syrup assailed his nose. Kate, Graeme’s mate, passed him a plate filled with food, her eyes crinkling in amusement.

Ta. He took the plate and the mug of Americano that Phoebe, Blake’s mate, prepared for him. He moved back to the door and pushed it open with his shoulder, giving them all a short smile before making his way to the library. Despite the welcoming ambiance in the kitchen, he just couldn’t do it.

Because, by staying with them, he saw the women’s glow from being loved by their warriors and that just made him all too aware of what he didn’t have. Fact was, Luke was certain he’d never be able to bestow that kind of glow to a woman at all.

The warriors turned the moment the nerve centre’s glass doors slid open. Graeme took a look at Luke’s plate and his mouth widened to show even teeth.

Eirene allowed you to swipe the bacon willingly? Graeme whistled. If only I was that lucky.

You could be if you kept your hands off it in the first place and waited for her to offer it to you. Blake deadpanned but laughter lurked in his stare.

Graeme snorted. You’re just as bad as I am, Strachan.

Blake lifted a shoulder. I’m the prodigal son. She cuts me some slack.

I’ll concede that round. Graeme shook his head with a rueful smirk.

Let’s begin. Roarke broke their ribbing. He sipped his whisky-infused coffee.

Finn approached Luke offering to lace his coffee with the living water that sharpened their minds. Luke raised his mug gratefully accepting the libation. While he wasn’t looking, Zac took a rasher from his plate.

Hey! Luke pushed him.

Call it a welcome to the brotherhood token, Zac grinned unfazed while he slowly chewed, showing Luke how much he savoured the rasher with the requisite hhhmmmm.

I see yer all in good spirits.

Not exactly, sire, Luke replied, a sly glance at the medic and sage. Zac’s just messing with my breakfast.

Och, the welcome to the brotherhood ritual. The Hamilton nodded his face breaking into a smile. Tho that’s no’ something done in all Faestens. Just in Manchester.

Why is that? The minute Luke glanced at the screen, Graeme tried to swipe a strip. Luke growled low and menacing. There were a few snickers.

It started with Eirene. Bacon now is part of your Faesten’s lore. The Hamilton cracked a rare smile. You’ll get more ‘o that, Luke. One down four to go.

Luke groaned before snatching his plate and keeping it close to his chest. The warriors laughed in good humour.

But Luke remembered another life, right after he had been able to escape his watery grave. Dragging himself out of the Boston River, he hid in the shadows of the nearby forests hell bent on returning to his childhood home. He kept to the paths still unused by many patriots but well known and used by Algonquin scouts. The lessons he learned from his adoptive mother’s people had come in handy.

His father had taught him how to gather food from the wild but having fought his way out of his water logged coffin, his mouth watered and his stomach growled at the smell of meat roasting on spits. Using his speed and gift of moving through space, Luke had cut a chunk and escaped to the woods before anyone noticed. Taking his fill, he used his gift once more to return to the hut where he had lived the early years of his life. There, he ate what he stole, the meat held close to his chest. His stomach was finally full, but his heart was completely empty. Because the hut was completely deserted, the windows were gapping teeth on a face pock marked by time and the elements and Ezekiel was no more, dying of a broken heart after Luke had been branded a traitor to the patriots.

There was nothing left to tie him to Boston.

Fast forward three centuries and Luke still had to fight for his food. He was sorely tempted to spit on his plate to stop the greedy fingers.

Zac made another attempt to swipe from the slowly dwindling amount of bacon on Luke’s plate.

That’s it. No one really messed with is food and got away with it.

Luke spat.

Zac’s fingers recoiled in shock.

Luke grinned, challenging the rest of the warriors’ incredulous looks.

Not. My. Food. His voice was deceptively calm but edgy.

Are we done with putting our scent or spit on our territory? The Hamilton’s voice boomed but there was no mistake that he was enjoying what he was seeing.

I beg your leave, sire. Finn requested and turned away. Moment later he faced the plasma once more. Eirene is making a shield load of bacon and waffles to bring here.

Your mate’s a saviour, Zac said in appreciation and gratitude.

And my angel. Finn acknowledged before crossing his arms over his chest and leaned against the mantle.

Right, The Hamilton began. Ye all ken why the lot of ye are here.

Finn looked away. Still doesn’t sit well, sire.

When D’Argyl died, we all assumed that we’d see the end of the war or at least close to it. The Hamilton began as though Finn hadn’t spoken.

The bacon was now having a difficult time sliding down Luke’s throat. He could practically see himself gulp like a looney tune.

Granted it wouldna be overnight but the elation most Cynn Cruors have because of Herod’s death strengthens the possibility of the war ending soon. The Hamilton paused. Blake are ye okay wi’ this?

They all looked at the youngest Cynn Cruor who sat on one of the ergonomic chairs by the Faesten’s newly upgraded computer system where a huge computer table replaced the bank of computers.

I’m good, sire. Blake’s smile was short. Dinnae fash about me.

The Hamilton grunted and ingested a lungful of air. When Dac stayed wi’ Herod they had a visitor. This visitor informed Dac the real reason for securing Specus Argentum in La Nahuaterique. The visitor also told Valerian that Zac had developed the serum tae make all Cynn Cruors immune tae any silver’s effect. That visitor was a Cynn Cruor.

A wave of swear words abounded.

Fuck! Graeme roared, his eyes changing colour.

All of their eyes followed suit.

Luke’s abandoned eating all together.

Did Herod give you a name? Finn asked straightening for his lean-on-me position by the mantle.

The Hamilton shook his head. I ken ye find it hard tae accept. Herod was my friend, Finn, more than he was a fellow personal guard of the Ancients. I suggest ye leave yer skepticism by the door for the time being.

Finn startled while exchanging glances with Roarke.

Aye, sire.

Luke, The Hamilton turned to him. I dinnae ken what is inside the thumb drive ye brought wi’ ye.

Thumb drive? Blake asked, an eyebrow raised. Since when did The Hamilton know that word?

"Ye want me to haul yer arse back to Perth, Strachan? Yer Dux willna be able tae stop me. Or I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug!"

Graeme snorted and reddened in trying to rein his laughter in. Blake’s hand slicked the back of his head before he held his ear sheepishly.

Aye sire.

Glad yer getting yer humour back. The Hamilton sighed noisily.

The contents of the ‘thumb drive’ are copies of the Cynn Cruor chronicles lost in the siege of Hamel Dun Creag. Roarke said his mouth twitching. Graeme and Eirene have begun extracting the files so we can have hard copies for Hamel Dun Uiamh, Anglesey, and here. Kate and Phoebe can go through it with a fine tooth comb.

Good. The Hamilton nodded, pleased. We need to ken what Dac’s Achilles’ heel is. Why he’s so hell bent on destroying humans.

And you think it’s somewhere in those records? Roarke quirked a brow.

Maybe.

Finn shrugged. We don’t need to check the records. It’s simple. Dac wants to lord over humans and keeps on being stalled by us.

That’s a given. The Hamilton replied. But if he wanted to do so, he should hae wrestled leadership from the Ancients long before he made the attempt on the Eald’s life. Opportunity was rife before the Ancients formed their personal guard. He frowned in thought like he was deciding on which chess piece to move. Nay. I believe there’s something more.

I shouldn’t be spying on the Ancients, then. Luke interjected. I should be spying on Valerian.

No, The Hamilton shook his head, pinning Luke with a glare. Keep tae this plan.

Fine. Luke chewed through the word. Though what you’re asking is going to take a long time.

Doesna matter as long as we find the truth, The Hamilton said. Are we agreed?

One by one the warriors nodded their heads, save Zac.

The Hamilton’s brow pulled in but the medic was stoic.

Zac has another mission. Roarke informed his father.

Och, yes, searching for more firebinders, The Hamilton said. "I have tae say this Marek has done well with Mackenzie though I cannae say I like his attitude. Thank ye, Zac for convincing him tae gie away some of his valuable time."

Luke snorted.

What was that, Griffiths?

He almost choked. Served him right biting on a huge chunk of his bacon sandwich. He reached for his coffee and drank half of the piping hot liquid.

Nothing, sire.

The last time we were there, Mack looked better. Zac broke his silence, perching on the sofa’s armrest and dragging The Hamilton’s attention away from Luke.

Aye, he is but he still relapses. Not as much because of Marek, but aye.

Sire, asking Luke to spy on the Ancients is like putting us on a boat to Bikini Atoll to be flayed alive by the sun. Finn stated steering the convo back.

The Hamilton grunted. Yer point, Qualtrough?

Finn leaned back once more against his favourite place by the mantle. I’m saying if we’re going to do this, we need all the allies we can get. We’re not only putting our lives on the line here but that of our women.

And?

Finn looked around before speaking. Next to Blake, Colin Butler was one of the best trackers we’ve ever had this side of the British Isles. I think we should bring him in.

He broke the law, Finn. Roarke frowned at him.

And you think that spying on the Ancients isn’t? Finn scoffed. Mack was turned against his will and Colin knew what would happen if the Ieldran found out. There won’t be an iota of forgiveness from those who consider things in black and white. He straightened. We, on the other hand, know what we’re getting into and we still do it because there’s a Scatha mole in our midst.

Roarke opened his mouth to say something exhaling when he didn’t, his face tight.

"I knew you’d see its logic, bráthair." Finn’s voice was less harsh. Deanna would have received an even worse fate if the Ancients didn’t forgive her.

Keep her out of this. Roarke growled, eyes flashing.

Finn’s mouth tightened. He didn’t say another word.

Only because I told them she wasn’t a spy. Luke added finally eating his food. I agree with Finn, but and this is a big but —

You’re butt’s skinny. Not big. Graeme commented.

Shut up.

Och get on wid ye! The Hamilton growled. I cannae stress the need tae find Cynn Cruors we can trust not tae tell on us—especially on me when I may no’ hae a chance in Ifrinn tae come out of this unscathed.

Why even start this, Da? Roarke huffed, troubled and disbelieving. You’re starting a schism within Cynn ranks that will only weaken your position with the Eald just because Herod told you something?

The Hamilton’s face hardened, his jaw clenching like he’d bitten on a jawbreaker.

You owe us that much, sire. Roarke spoke quietly not backing down.

Luke stopped chewing, like everyone was waiting on bated breath for the cliff hanger in some day time soap.

The Hamilton ran his hand down his face before loosening his hair from his queue. Long waves of jet black hair with a few strands of grey at the temples flowed around his massive shoulders. He threw the piece of string on the table and leaned back. Emotions flickered across his face no different from how candlelight exposed the various facets of a gem stone.

Sire?

Herod wasna a willing transfuge. He began quietly. He was asked by the Ancients to do so.

Say that again? Graeme cocked his head presenting one ear like he didn’t believe what he’d just read.

You’re shitting me. Finn scowled.

Qualtrough –

I can’t help it. Finn defended. That’s a ginormous accusation right there!

It is, The Hamilton agreed and he suddenly looked old. And do ye ken why the Ancients commanded him tae do so? Because they wanted tae find out Dac’s weakness and use that against him. Problem? Herod couldna find what he was looking for until it was too late and he was enticed by the Scatha tae become truly one o’ them.

He paused, his gaze encompassing all of them.

Ken Cynn Cruors, that I dinnae make the decision lightly tae spy on the immortal I would lay me life down for. The Eald kent that Herod would do whatever he asked of him. All his personal guards would do so but I dinnae expect him tae ask Herod to turn into the verra thing he wanted tae remove from the world.

Luke placed his delicious, half eaten bacon strip down on his plate. His brethren didn’t bother swiping it either. After what The Hamilton said, he’d lost his appetite but gained an understanding of what his mission was all about.

It seemed like he had something in common with the dead Cynn-turned-Scatha-back-to Cynn Cruor.

Did Herod find out what Dac’s weakness was? Finn asked.

The Hamilton smiled briefly and he nodded. Herod said it was a pair of crutches.

Finn snorted, skeptical. Crutches? Bloody hell, throwing his whole life just to find out it equated to a pair of crutches. Forgive me, sire, but I don’t see how that could be Dac’s weakness.

Neither do I. The Hamilton agreed.

And I don’t see how this ties in with the Eald ordering Herod to become a traitor, Finn added.

Herod was the only one Dac had a semblance of a friendship with before HE turned traitor. Dac would only listen tae Herod.

And that’s why the Eald decided to use him. Good choice.

They all turned to Zac who returned their stares. Think about it.

Luke moved his head slowly from left to right, unable to believe what he was hearing. Then again why not? It was one of the tricks he used to set up a fall. The only difference between this world and that of the humans was sharper canines and becoming a hot blooded tamale that howled with a strong desire for sex come the full moon. Similarities? They were still human with