“Dude”—I use the word deliberately—“I am wearing an invisibility cloak.”

“Ryodan and I will make the climb with Ms. Lane at dusk,” Barrons says. “Jada, you will remain here with the Keltar.”

“The bloody hell we will,” Dageus explodes.

“Bullshit,” Drustan agrees.

“No,” Jada says flatly.

“You only increase the odds of us being heard or seen as we make the climb.”

“He’s blood. Like it or not, we attend,” Drustan says softly.

“Not even you can foresee the myriad possibilities,” Jada says to Barrons. “I didn’t come this far to remain behind. The Hag might kill you both, leaving Mac dangling on the cliff. Any number of things could go wrong. There are reasons the military takes backup when they go on a dangerous mission. There are reasons you brought us. Don’t second-guess the decision you made now.”

I can’t say in front of the Keltar, yes, but Barrons and Ryodan will come back. Dageus and Drustan won’t.

“We could all be killed, lass,” Dageus says to Jada. “Any time. Any place. Think you that means a man should never go to war? War is a natural way of life.”

“I said the three of you will remain in the car,” Barrons says, and his voice resonates in the confines of the vehicle like a thousand layered voices.

Dageus laughs. “Aye, right, try that one on two druids trained in Voice since birth.”

Drustan snorts.

Even Jada appears unaffected. Damn, the woman is impervious as Ryodan.

“Looks like we’re all going,” I say dryly.

We spend another miserable eight hours packed in the car waiting for nightfall. I consider trying to slip off for a private moment with Barrons but instead we end up playing musical seats. Twenty minutes after we agreed on our plan, Jada tried to freeze-frame out with gear. She’s been firmly sandwiched between Barrons and Ryodan in the backseat ever since, with Dageus and Drustan in the front and me sprawled out on top of the gear, brooding out the rear window. At least I got a little sleep.

Night descends.

And a full moon rises. No clouds. Not one fluffy little bit of mist in sight. The moon is rimmed with crimson, casting the entire mountainous landscape an eerie blood-black hue.

“Son of a bitch,” Dageus curses.

“We could wait a week, or for a cloudy night,” I say.

“Nay,” Dageus says. “ ’Tis now or never. We do this tonight.”

Drustan eyes him curiously. “Ken you something of these events from your travels in time?”

Dageus mutters darkly, “Only that things get worse the longer it takes us to save him. Much, much worse.”

Dageus starts the Hummer and follows Ryodan’s directions, lumbering slowly toward our destination so as not to rev the engine and make more noise, then parks beneath another rocky outcropping.

“You will cooperate with our plan,” Ryodan tells Jada. “And you will not deviate.”

“I accept that,” she says with slow precision, “for one reason only. As all of you have agreed upon it, should I deviate, it would jeopardize the mission and all participants. I am not the rash child you once knew. You have my compliance. For this event.” She pauses a moment then adds softly and with the first trace of humanity I’ve seen in her cool countenance, “Never has anyone willingly taken such agony upon themselves to spare me a difficult choice. Christian was my hero when I needed one. I’ll see him freed and the Hag killed.”

I glance at Ryodan. A muscle is working in his jaw. Oh, yeah, he didn’t like that hero comment.

Then we’re all getting out and loading up cables and hooks and spikes and lacing our hiking boots tightly.

34

“Walking the cliff’s edge, going over, going over”

MAC

If I allow myself a moment of completely serious sincerity, though I often bitch about my current companions, I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

None of them.

Over time I’ve developed a grudging admiration and respect for Ryodan. Recent events have further honed it into something close to affection. He’s become the older, irritating brother that drives me crazy, but I’d defend him the instant someone else tried to criticize. I’ll never let him know that. I’m glad he keeps the men together. Someone needs to. I’ve also finally acknowledged to myself that I think he’s one hell of a sexy man. I thought so even before I met him, merely from his voice on the phone, the mysterious IYCGM. I’d resisted liking him with the same fervent intensity I’d devoted to disliking Barrons. I’d known from the first I could like them both more than I wanted to.