“Hopefully, they think an animal hit the wards,” Kiera muttered.

“They’ll be looking for us,” Stacy realized aloud.

“Don’t worry,” Kiera inserted. “I’ll cast illusion magic over us so anyone on lookout won’t see we’re coming. That is, they won’t see people moving around, though the shadows might look weird to a trained eye.”

Rowan turned to them after a few tense, quiet moments. “These wards are intricate and old. Whatever the hell he is, Victor has been here a long time. That, or whoever came before him knew what they were doing.” The dryad’s work to undo the magic took time and was taxing. Finally, enough space opened for the trio to slip through.

Kiera went first, muttering something about hoping not to get smoked again. Stacy and Rowan followed. As they each stepped onto the other side of the wards, Kiera cloaked them in magic, instructing them to stay close to her. “My magic can only reach so far,” she explained.

The incline went up another several yards, then flattened out. Stacy managed to keep her breathing even and sidled close to Kiera without encroaching so much on the fae’s space that she couldn’t move. The trio headed for the iron gate with the courtyard and the main entrance to the house beyond.

How the hell are we supposed to get through the gate? Stacy wondered. She did not remember seeing it among the information Amy had passed her.

Rowan beckoned for Stacy and Kiera to look toward the stone wall. There was a small opening at the bottom. Kiera scowled, realizing Rowan wanted one of them to crawl through it and unlock the gate from the other side. I’m too big, his eyes said.

Fine, I’ll do it, Stacy decided with no small amount of dread. However, Kiera stopped her. It wasn’t wise for Stacy to crawl through since she didn’t know how to use invisibility magic. Kiera slipped through the hole, and Stacy didn’t know she was there until the gate swung open on silent hinges. At the far end of the courtyard, four guards turned in alarm.

“Hey, how the hell did the gate open?” one demanded. “Did Garth forget to fucking lock it?”

Stacy didn’t know who Garth was, and she didn’t care to find out. She and Rowan strode through the gate as Kiera appeared in front of the guards, waving her fingers. “Good evening, boys.”

She struck. First with magic in the form of shadows that punched and wrapped them in cords they could not break, then with her knife when another resisted and launched at her with a spear.

A fucking spear? Stacy thought. What about guns? Wasn’t that more customary guard weaponry? Yet they were at a very old house with very old magic. Why not use old weapons, too?

Rowan engaged one guard with his magic while Stacy’s shield flared, and she shot out at another. In the space of the minute Stacy required to take her guard down, Kiera had disabled two, and Rowan got the last.

“Do you think they heard us inside?” Rowan asked.

“One way to find out,” Kiera replied, inclining her head at the entrance.

The double doors were massive and, like everything else, quite old. Rowan fished a ring of keys off one of the guards, then focused his magic on the shimmering wards over the doors. A minute or two later, they fell, and Rowan inserted a large brass key into the lock. He struggled to turn it but managed at last. Magic flared through wood, stone, and iron. Rowan set his jaw, and Stacy realized the magic was affecting him.

Come on, Rowan, she urged silently.

At last, a click sounded as the doors unlocked and swung open. Fortunately, they didn’t creak, thanks to whatever magic was woven through the materials.

Stacy did not have much time to consider what lay inside.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” a voice growled before a figure leaped from the shadows within. Stacy hardly had time to fling her magic and fend off the strike of a sharp blade. Beyond the blade was a face twisted in hate. Human, though. Not werewolf, thank fuck.

Stacy shoved the attacker back, and Rowan hit him with a blast of magic that careened him into a far wall with enough force that he fell unconscious.

He wasn’t the only guard inside.

Kiera vanished into the shadows, and Stacy heard the sounds of alarm and struggle from several guards in the fortress. She and Rowan hurried after Kiera, and other protectors of the house soon engaged them.

The guards did not seem able to wield magic themselves, but it protected them. Their armor shimmered, and they used magical weapons. Mostly guns, but a few knives and swords as well.

Stacy had stepped into the hallway with barely a second to reinforce her shield before she was pummeled with bullets. She shoved back against the force of them on her shield before lashing out with her magic.

Streaks of bright white light shot through the hallway, hitting targets. Then, Kiera’s shadows struck them, and they fell. Rowan engaged other guards who wielded blades, slashing with his own and evading the strikes as they came. He was practically dancing. So was Kiera.

Stacy doubted her fighting movements were as graceful, but she was still on her fucking feet, so that was something.

The wide stone hallway’s hardwood floor creaked beneath her feet. The walls were bare except for a few tapestries. Stacy did not have time to make out the details. She spun and whirled, her magic flaring in orbs and points, penetrating and exploding against her attackers. Finally, they reached the end of the hall and another massive door. This one was covered in runes and sigils. More protections.

Rowan pushed past Stacy and Kiera and placed his open palms on the door. They glowed with the surge of his ancient power. Strain showed in his muscles, and Stacy wondered how much longer he could keep this up. She had no doubt Rowan would have to dismantle more barriers as they went.

Finally, it dropped, and Rowan straightened, breathing hard. Stacy cast a glance over her shoulder at the pile of bodies. Though some had met a bloody end, many were merely unconscious. Either way, they were out of the fight.

One more line of defense, then we’re in the heart of Victor’s stronghold, she thought as they surged into the next room.

It was a wide, open space. The ceiling was high, with windows placed far over their heads. Silvery moonlight shone through, illuminating the line of defense waiting for them there. Stacy counted seven guards, and they were not like the ones they had left behind.

They were over six feet tall and wore white masks, concealing their faces. Dark cloaks swished around them, and they brandished gleaming swords. Victor’s last line of defense over his home.

What were these people? Did they have magic?

Stacy didn’t care. They were prepared to fight to the death, and she felt a white-hot wrath welling up. She summoned her magic like a tidal wave and imagined Victor at his gala, surrounded by flocks of the wealthy praising him for his various investments and business choices. She thought of those left on the streets, barely clothed and hungry. She thought of Amy and Spencer in the thick of his lair.

“Do it,” Kiera insisted.

“We’re right behind you,” Rowan added.

Stacy sent her magic crashing through the room.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The sounds of the crowd grew muted to Victor as he pulled out his phone. He clenched the stem of the champagne glass he was holding, steely eyes flicking over the message not once, but twice. Then, a third time.

The message was brief and cryptic, giving him the barest information.

Assault on Aurora home. Guards incapacitated. Send reinforcements.

No word on who had done it or how many, but Victor knew who was behind the assault.

It took everything in him not to smash the glass against the nearest wall. He had the urge to storm out of the hotel, take the fastest car to his oldest estate, and face the witch himself.

What happened? He’d done everything to ensure she would come here. He had laid the perfect trap, and she had…

Fucking stepped around it.

Gone to his fucking house.

Laid the trap for him instead.

Victor seethed with fury but managed an outward appearance of calm and nonchalance. The last thing he should do was allow anyone to see his sudden alarm and distress. That was not the Victor he’d presented to these people for the past several decades. That was not the Victor his father and grandfather would approve of.