That is what we have been waiting for these past two days. One of our fighters stole the keys and made a copy.” He produced the keys from the pocket of his robes and handed them to Lorcan.
“No.” Dimitar shook his head as Lorcan reached up to place the key in the lock at his wrist. “I told you it is already too late for me.” As he spoke, Lorcan could see his canine teeth lengthening. Darkness must be falling already outside. “Save my master.”
Lorcan didn’t hesitate. There was no room for sentiment in a situation like this. Leaving Dimitar in his restraints, he turned to Jethro. “Unlock the manacles while I hold him.” He spoke over his shoulder and Ali hurried to do his bidding. Once free, Jethro slumped into Lorcan’s arms with a groan that indicated he was coming round.
“That’s a relief. I didn’t fancy carrying you out of here, my large friend.” Lorcan eased Jethro’s long body down so that he was resting in a near-sitting position against the wall.
“Lorcan? What the...?” Jethro sat up straighter, his half-closed eyes widening as they took in something behind Lorcan’s shoulder. “Watch out, she’s the one who got to me.”
Lorcan rose to his feet as a stunningly beautiful, voluptuous woman entered the dungeon. She wore the traditional garments of a belly dancer, and her honeyed skin had a sheen that cried out to be touched. Thick ebony hair hung to her waist, and above the half veil that covered the lower part of her face, her huge almond-shaped eyes were enough to melt any man’s heart. It might almost be worth eternity as a vampire just for a bite from her. Lorcan shook the temptation away quickly, aware that she was already getting inside his head.
“You are new.” She had shimmied across to him before he even noticed the movement. “And so very pretty.” Her grasping little hands reached for him.
“Sorry. I prefer blondes.” No sooner had he spoken the words than his wayward mind decided to dwell on the one blonde he knew for sure he could never have. It was amazing how often it managed to do that. Resolutely, he turned his thoughts away from Princess Tanzi and back to the matter before him.
“Oflinnan.” Lorcan issued the halt command and the vampire’s eyes flickered briefly with surprise before she froze, becoming a statue of loveliness.
“She has some nasty friends.” Jethro was struggling to his feet. “And they won’t be far behind. Let’s free Dimitar and get out of here.”
He turned to where Dimitar hung in his manacles. The halt command had worked on him as well and he was frozen in position, his mouth open, revealing new, fully formed fangs. Even behind the mask of blood that covered Jethro’s swollen features, Lorcan could see the pain on his face.
“They did this to him because of me. He lost his immunity when he switched allegiance. I won’t leave him here for them.” The words were wrenched from Jethro.
“We can’t risk taking a vampire with us. He will want to feed.” Ali’s voice echoed high and panicky around the dungeon.
“I want to get him out of here so I can stake and decapitate him. That way he can rest in peace instead of being in torment for all eternity.” Jethro’s response was hard, flat and—some might have said—uncaring.
Lorcan gestured to Ali for the keys and, once the manacles were opened, Jethro hoisted Dimitar’s stiffened frame onto his shoulder.
“These tunnels will take us beneath the city and closer to the coast.” With Ali in the lead, they made a silent, cautious trek through the tunnels. Some time later they exited out into the mimosa-scented Moroccan night.
“There is a fishing boat waiting near the lighthouse. It will take you to Barcelona. Until we meet again, necromancer.” Ali clasped Lorcan’s hand. The little sidhe gave Jethro, who still carried Dimitar’s body, a wide berth. Lorcan began to walk toward the beach. He was halted in his tracks when Ali called out softly. “I almost forgot! You asked us to let you know if anything happened to Princess Tanzi.”
“Yes?” Lorcan’s heart gave an uncomfortably loud thud. Just when he thought he’d trained it not to do that at the mention of her name. “What about her?”
“Word came from Otherworld earlier today. She has disappeared.”
Running away from home. Surely more the action of an angst-riddled teen than a mature adult? And certainly not one upon whom the political future of her dynasty depended. But Tanzi had agonized over her options before making this decision. There was no one in whom she could confide.
Vashti was recovering well from the injuries she had sustained during the battle, but she was still weak. And could her sister be trusted not to share Moncoya’s feelings in this matter? Although they were twins, they had never been close. We are too different. She sees black and white, I see color. We both choose the fast lane, but she focuses on the road ahead, while I enjoy the scenery. Vashti is our father’s daughter. I am said to take after the mother we never knew. No, Tanzi could not share her plight with Vashti.
Her instincts told her she could trust Cal and Stella. Intuition and certainty were two very different things, however. Did she want to give them more proof of her father’s depravity, even if it might lead to protection from the marriage he planned for her? The faeries were in turmoil, unsure of their loyalties, their confidence in tatters. Every day further proof of atrocities under Moncoya’s leadership emerged, yet he was still revered by his people. Tanzi felt the weight of her responsibility to the faerie dynasty and her sidhe heritage. She could not publicly denounce her father, no matter how villainous his latest scheme might be.
That left her with only one option. If she was to avoid this marriage, she had to get away from Otherworld. She must put her trust in Cal to do the right thing for the faeries in her absence. There was only one person she could turn to. As crazy as it seemed, Tanzi was going to put Lorcan Malone’s promise to the test.
The decision to seek refuge with him, once made, brought her a whole new set of problems. How would she find him? He had told her he would know if she needed him. But that must have been bravado. Something to impress the girl he had just rescued. Necromancers did not possess psychic powers. No, she would have to go in search of him. It was a daunting prospect. She knew little of the mortal realm. The only times she had interacted with humans in their own world had been when she was sent by her father to attack, assassinate or kidnap them.
There was talk of a place in Barcelona, a resistance safe house. So well guarded it was impossible to gain entrance unless you knew the right people. Cal was known to be a resistance sympathizer, so perhaps his best friend also had links with the freedom fighters. La Casa Oscura, the dark house that led from the mortal realm to her father’s Otherworld palace, was also a conduit in the opposite direction. It would take her directly to the mortal city of Barcelona. If she went there and asked for Lorcan, perhaps she could get a message to him. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all she had.
Moncoya had always forbidden his daughters from using the portal. He had instilled in them a fear of the mortal realm that remained strong in Tanzi, teaching them that the earth-born were the enemy of the fae. Those thoughts persisted as she made her plans to leave. Not that she did much planning. She didn’t have time. Moncoya would act swiftly. Tanzi must do the same.
That was how, two days after her meeting with Moncoya, she came to be standing on the Barcelona quayside, surrounded by
