Page 10 of Hunted By Darkness

We’d be traveling for several hours by motorbike to get to the meeting spot. He’d sent an enchanted stone, but I wouldn’t trust it. Nika was safer on the back of my Harley, and it gave me an excuse to have my lethal princess pressed up against my back.

Win-win.

The two of us started the several-mile hike to where I’d put my Harley, then it would be open road from there. She pretended to be all bothered and tired when my hand reached for hers, but our fingers twined and a ghost of a smile reached her pretty mouth.

After everything, it was these little moments between us I cherished. I’d nearly lost her again. If not for her nan and mydarling’s resilience, she’d be in the clutches of a demon wearing my brother’s face.

I watched the sunlight rain down on her in sporadic bursts. Her hand squeezed mine, and when I grinned at her, she returned it. The woman had been through hell, but you’d never know it. As we climbed, I vowed to protect that smile.

5

Nika

The gleam of sun-yellow hair greeted us when we arrived in the field where my father and Dugan met. Dugan’s familiar figure was outlined by radiant light, his front turned toward the bright sun with thousands of flowers sprouting from the earth until they disappeared along the horizon.

This was their special place. I recognized it immediately when Silas gave me the coordinates. Asking me to come to this place was a powerful statement. Dugan’s love for my father hadn’t faded. He hadn’t betrayed him. He still cherished the love they had.

My throat was tight with emotion and tears threatened to fall if I wasn’t careful.

It wasn’t immediately clear what Dugan already knew. Was he aware my father was dead? Had Father told him everything beforehand? Silas said he mentioned that I was a Soul Collector and I’d found my grandmother’s soul, so what else did Dugan know?

After collecting my father’s soul, I didn’t question whether there was a reason Father had involved him, or why he and Silas were already connected. My parents had gone through great lengths to prepare. They couldn’t stop fate, but they’d done what they could to give me the best chance at facing mine. Dugan was just another piece of that.

I paused when the man my father loved turned our direction, his soft brown eyes lighting up with relief and happiness at the sight of me. He let loose a breath and brushed back his golden hair so it wasn’t falling into his eyes, then he walked the short distance between us.

“Nika, darling. I’m…” His mouth quivered. “I’m so happy to see you again. I thought the worst when—” He cleared his throat and grabbed hold of my hands. “Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? What matters is that you’re here.”

Next to my father, who’d always reminded me of a dark forest, Dugan was a sunlit field of flowers. Maybe that was the reason this place where the two met was a perfect embodiment of their love. And like many times in the last half year, it felt as if another piece of fate had clicked into place.

Silas stiffened, but he didn’t stop Dugan from touching me. And while he grumbled under his breath about me being so touchy-feely with “unworthy wankers” when I cradled Dugan’s cheek and smiled at him, he didn’t stop that either.

“I’m glad you’re okay too, Dugan.” His pretty smile beamed back at me. It was the most Dugan thing he could ever do. “Orshould I call you Trevion?” I teased, and his smile faded. “Which name is the real one?”

“Sassy,” he grumbled. “Dugan, of course. Trevion…well, that was only an identity I assumed with—well, you know.”

“Me?” Silas supplied, sneering.

I ignored the annoyed oaf next to me. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” he whispered, covering my hand with his. “Much too long, darling.”

It’d been nearly a year since I last saw him. The longest we’d ever gone. He was a Light Fae, so Father met him outside of the Dark Fae Society, but he always found a way to visit. And when my schedule permitted, I’d go along with my father, but it’d been chaotic since we’d last seen each other.

Dugan might look my age, but he was several hundred years old, and he was much thinner than he had been when last I saw him. He used to fill out his clothes better, but now they hung off him, practically swallowing his thinner frame.

“I can’t imagine what you must’ve thought when I didn’t come for you. When those vile creatures tortured you for information. You must’ve felt so alone.” He visibly swallowed, closing his eyes. “When your father sent me that letter before the attack, I thought he’d gone absolutely insane. I never thought…it’s all a bit surreal, if I’m honest. I never imagined that everything would take place the exact way he’d written it.”

I giggled, finally dropping my hand. “Imagine how I feel.”

Amusement swam in his gorgeous brown eyes. “At least you haven’t lost your spark. I’d been worried the harsh world might take it from you.” He stole a look at Silas, whose arm had wound around my waist and tucked me in close. “But it seems a few things have changed since last we spoke.”

I glared at Silas, but the brute didn’t step away. He was determined to make a statement. It wasn’t a fight worth having,so I offered Dugan a one-shoulder shrug and moved on. “What was it that Father gave you?”

Dugan seemed to come out of his head and sunk a hand into the messenger bag he’d brought with him. Pulling out a little worn leather-bound journal from inside, he handed it to me. “He said you’d understand what was inside. I’ve never seen a language like it, so I couldn’t possibly know what it all means. Hopefully you do.”

I took the journal and flipped through a few pages. It was in our code, but it wasn’t written by Father. It was written by someone else. And after flipping from front to back and quickly scanning the content, its importance was made perfectly clear.

This journal was authored by both my grandmother and mother, and everything inside of it was meant for me, and me alone. Several entries spoke directly to me, and I wasn’t sure how. Not when Grandmother was meant to have died before I was born and never knew my name or face. I’d seen her handwriting before, so I knew it was hers. Which begged the question, how had she known that one day I’d need this journal? My mother’s clairvoyance was this powerful?

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