“I don’t think so.” The newest member of our party was standing beside me, looking down at the poster of Lee. “I dream about him at night. I think this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
Dean Malone was a twenty-three-year-old wizard we’d picked up along the way. According to Kelsey, he had something to do with the prophecy about Myrddin. Kelsey was carrying a book that she claimed held the prophecies of the witches of Arete—a plane where witches ruled. It was in the pack on her back, and she’d vowed to do anything to keep it in her possession.
This particular prophecy foretold that two people in all the planes held the power to kill Myrddin Emrys. Myrddin had avoided one by having his pregnant mother kidnapped and sent off plane. If Kelsey was right, that young man was Dean Malone. Myrddin had manipulated the other man into a situation where he’d been killed.
Where I’d held him as he lay dying. Kelsey’s father, my guard, Lee Owens. He’d been the one who the prophecy identified.
Myrddin didn’t know that the Heaven plane had offered me a gift—Lee’s soul in my child’s body, the chance to give one of the best men I’d ever known an easier life.
Fucking prophecy.
“Is there any way to use the painting to get back to where we came from?” Dev was asking. “If we can get back, we can talk to Summer. She might have a way to get us to the proper time.”
“I can’t go back.” Dean stood up taller. He was a young man with stark white hair and crystal blue eyes—a sure sign that he wasn’t entirely human. The magic he wielded was another clue. He was at least a foot taller than me, almost as tall as my faery prince husband. “This is where I’m supposed to be. The wizard has conquered the supernatural world—the world I was born to defend. I need to find Lee Donovan-Quinn.”
“But you don’t,” Daniel said in that annoyingly soothing tone he used when the world had exploded and he was trying to keep everyone calm. “If we go back to the proper time, I can end whatever coup Myrddin was planning. I’ll know what’s happening going in, and I’ll kill him myself.”
Danny might be using a calm tone, but his fangs were out. The King of All Vampire took his crown seriously. After all, we’d fought a war for it once. We could take care of a minor battle this time.
I was all on board with this plan. I let the poster drop from my hand. I never wanted to see it again. I wanted my sweet little boys and girl. I wanted Fenrir, Kelsey’s son, to be the baby werewolf he was, the kid who didn’t like to wear pants. “Let’s do it. Dean, Dev is right. If we can get home, we’ll take care of the problem and then you won’t have to do anything but enjoy the Earth plane.”
It was that moment that I was reminded I hadn’t come through the painting alone. There was a butterfly attached to my hair, a ruby-red pixie, the queen of her kind. She had been a constant companion for years, as I was also known as Her Grace when I was in Fae society. Devinshea was the High Priest of Faery, and I his acknowledged goddess.
Arwyna fluttered her wings and flew for the door Kelsey guarded.
“That’s not what the prophecy says,” Dean replied stubbornly.
I didn’t care about prophecy. Prophecy had gotten us into this clusterfuck in the first place.
Kelsey looked at me, a grave expression on her face. “The world will fold and bend in on itself and you will be left on the wrong side.”
I felt anger rise quick and true. She wanted to throw that at me now? “I don’t want to hear anything about a trick or a trap. Gray’s been peddling that nonsense for years. I’m not going to let it stop me from trying to fix this.”
Grayson Sloane was one of two prophets who walked the Earth plane. He was also Kelsey’s other husband. Like me, she had two. Trent, one of the strongest werewolves in the world, and the dark prophet, Gray. For the last several years he’d warned us of a coming evil—a trick and a trap.
I was not going to allow myself to be trapped here.
“I know this one by heart,” Kelsey continued. “Years will pass. Your wolf will howl but he will remain steadfast.” She pointed to the wanted poster featuring Trent. “My wolf has protected your pack. This is the event Gray foretold, and we now have parts to play. You know Gray’s prophecies can’t truly be altered. They can only guide us.”
Arwyna was flying around the room, seeming to look for something. We stood in the room that used to be the armory. It was in the lower levels of the building, under Ether, the club my Fae husband ran. Now it seemed to be some kind of office and storage area.