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Glancing down, she spotted Ethan’s lighter where it lay among the pine needles on the forest floor. She bent and picked it up, flicked it on, then off, ran her fingers through the blue flame.

She looked up to find Catrin watching her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I need to know,” she said. “This thing is not going away. If he doesn’t come through tonight, then he’ll find another way.”

“Then let him.”

She shook her head. “Once I know, then I can work out how to fight this thing.”

She looked across the clearing and Caleb caught her eye. He looked from her to the bonfire and then came on over.

“What’s going on?” he asked, coming to stand beside them.

“We’ll never have a better chance to finish this,” she said. “We have a hoard of vampires and a pack of wolves at our back.”

Regan took a step toward the pyre, and Caleb reached out and grabbed her arm. He stared down into her eyes, searched her face, and then nodded.

She flicked on the lighter and touched it to the wood. The flames flared to immediate life.

They both stood back and watched as the fire took hold. Soon, a roaring conflagration reached up to the night sky. The scent of burning resin filled the air, and the heat of the fire warmed her face. For a minute, it appeared as though nothing further would happen. Then, in the heart of the fire, the flames darkened to deep crimson.

They gave out no heat now, and the night grew cold around them. Regan shivered, hugged her arms around herself, and inched closer to Caleb. His arm came around her, and he pulled her back against the warmth of his bare chest.

“Come away,” he whispered in her ear.

But she stood transfixed. As she watched, the crimson turned to midnight blue, darkening until she stared into a pit of blackness. Regan couldn’t look away, her eyes fixed on the shape that slowly materialized out of the flames.

A man on a huge, black horse leapt from the fire, a stream of hounds following, until the clearing appeared full of the wildly baying creatures.

Caleb forced her backward, and the horse tossed its head and pranced beneath its rider, while the pack of hellhounds swarmed about its hooves. The rider raised a hand and they fell silent.

Regan took a deep breath, forced her gaze upward, and her heart stopped beating.

For years, she’d dreamed of him, and in her dreams, he’d looked just like this. Golden skin, glossy black hair that fell to his shoulders, eyes a pale green flecked with gold and pupils slanted like a cat’s. He smiled down at her, and a sharp pain stabbed through her heart.

The horse danced beneath him, but he held it with ease, almost seeming at one with the wild creature.

“Regan,” he murmured, and his rich voice was filled with warmth. Then his eyes narrowed on her before shifting to Caleb, who stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. The smile slid from his face, replaced by a cold, cruel mask of loathing. Regan fought the urge to pull free. Instead, she pressed herself back against Caleb, and as she felt him along the length of her body, a measure of calm returned.

“Sardi,” she said, “I thought you were dead.”

“Obviously not.” He glanced around the clearing, then back at Regan. “Where is Ethan Stone?”

“Nowhe’sdefinitely dead,” she replied.

He raised an eyebrow. “You killed him?”

“I did.” Caleb dropped his arm from her waist and stepped forward.

Sardi studied him. “Who are you?”

“Caleb Stone.”

His eyes widened. “You killed your own father.”

Caleb nodded.