’Twas truth that he didn’t wish to have to be concerned about damaging the mirror, but even more truth that he didn’t want to be in such close proximity to the Dark Hallow any longer. He suspected its strange pull had been working subtly on him the entire time he’d been driving home, peaking when he’d opened up the back of the SUV. He had no desire to spend what could be hours driving around, with the Hallow no more than a few feet away from him, in an enclosed space.

Tossing his head back, he bellowed, “Drustan!” with enough volume to rattle the eaves.

“Christ, Dageus, I’m right above you,” his brother replied, wincing. “There’s no need to go shouting the walls down.”

Dageus glanced up. His twin was standing at the balustrade that overlooked the great hall entrance, gazing down. “How was I to know that? Why are you standing there, Drustan?”

“Why are you talking to a mirror, Dageus?” Drustan said very, very quietly.

“I said ‘wait for me!’ “ Gwen cried at that moment, from somewhere down the corridor behind his brother.

Dageus shook his head. He had no time for explanations. The woman’s name, Cian had told him as they’d crossed the lawn, interspersed with his increasingly pissed-off demands to accompany him back down to Inverness, was Jessica St. James. She was an innocent in this—whatever “this” was—and she was in mortal danger.

He had to go. Now.

Propping the mirror against the wall near the door, he waved a hand at it and clipped, “Drustan: Cian MacKeltar. Cian: Drustan MacKeltar.”

“Dageus,” Drustan’s voice was soft as velvet, never a good sign, “why are you introducing me to a mirror?”

“Look in the mirror, Drustan,” Dageus said impatiently, angling it a bit so he could see into it from above.

His brother’s jaw dropped.

Dageus smiled faintly. ’Twas nice to know he wasn’t the only one utterly discombobulated by the sight of a man inside a mirror. “I doona believe he can get out, Drustan, so he shouldn’t present a danger. However, you may wish to store him away from women and children until we know more.”

Drustan was still gaping, speechless.

The mirror growled, “Away from women and children? I’ve never been a threat to women and children, you lummox!”

“Verily, kinsman, we know naught about you,” Dageus retorted. “So why doona you try explaining things to my brother while I’m gone? Then mayhap somebody can explain them to me when I return.”

“Doona leave me here,” Cian hissed. “Take me with you.”

“I said I’ll find your woman, and I will.”

Above him, Drustan finally found his tongue. “Cian MacKeltar!” he exploded. “Mean you our ancestor Cian? The one from the ninth century?”

“Aye. And ’tis the Dark Glass, Drustan, one of the Unseelie Hallows,” he imparted tersely. His brother didn’t contain the vast knowledge of the Draghar within him, and Dageus doubted his ability to recognize it for what it was. “You may wish to keep your contact with it to a minimum. It works on the magic in our blood, enticing us.” He added a final aside: “I inadvertently left his woman unprotected. I must go get her. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

Without further ado, Dageus turned and raced from the castle.

20

Jessi polished off her third hamburger, balled up the paper wrapping, and tucked it back in the bag.

“Better, lass?” Dageus asked.

“Oh, yes,” she said with a contented sigh. She’d never tasted such scrumptious, decadently juicy, perfect hamburgers in her entire life, though she suspected not having eaten in over twenty-four hours might be biasing her the teeniest bit. She gulped thirstily at her super-sized water; all the walking and worrying she’d done today had left her feeling dehydrated.

Leaning back against the seat of the SUV, she stretched out her legs. She was feeling tremendously better, buoyed by food, heartened by the discovery that Cian was somewhere safe, and quite frankly delighted that she wasn’t going to have to sleep beneath a bridge somewhere tonight using newspaper for blankets.

“Och, Christ, have I told you how sorry I am?”

“Only about a hundred times now,” she told Dageus dryly.

“‘Tis but that I feel like such an ass, lass. I’d ne’er have taken the mirror if I’d thought ’twould leave you in any danger. Please believe that.”

“I do,” she assured him. “And it’s all right. Everything turned out okay. I’m here, Cian’s safe, and no one’s the worse for wear.” Although, she appended silently, she wasn’t going to feel a hundred percent okay until she saw Cian with her own eyes.