don’t need those senses? What if they have another way of knowing where our charges are?”
Not wanting to follow Enya’s thought process, Aiden took a steadying breath. “You can’t mean that.”
Logan huffed. “And why not? Our own emotions aren’t that different from those of the humans we’re protecting. So what makes you think all of us can resist temptation?”
“But that’s what we’re trained for . . . ” Aiden’s voice died. He swallowed past the dryness of this throat. His next thought came out of nowhere. “But Hamish. You can’t mean that he . . . and the demons . . . ”
“He wasn’t there to back you up. And how did the demons find your charge anyway when you say you cloaked her?” Logan asked.
“Who better to know where you are at all times than your second,” Manus added.
“A traitor? You think Hamish sold me out to the demons?”
When the words left his lips, his heart clenched painfully. Aiden sought support from the kitchen counter, his knees buckling under the strain. It couldn’t be possible. Hamish was like a brother to him. A brother he occasionally butted heads with, but a brother nevertheless.
“We have to find him.” Aiden glanced at Pearce. “Find his cell. Maybe he’s hurt somewhere.”
He put all his hopes into his last words. It was better that the reason why Hamish hadn’t come to his aid was because he was hurt. The other possibility—that he had gone over to the demons—was too awful to contemplate.
FOUR
Barclay dropped the gavel and called for order in the council chambers. The mumbling of his fellow council members tapered slowly. When it finally died, he gazed into the faces of the men and women who sat around the table, which was built in a half-circle. All of them were experienced Stealth Guardians, seven men and two women with great knowledge and skill, who’d served their people well for many centuries. They had been hand selected to serve on the Council of Nine, the ruling body of their ancient race. Judge, jury, and executioner in one, the council bore a heavy burden. Yet each member wore their duty with pride.
Surrounded by ancient runes engraved in the stone walls of the chambers, and protected by the collective powers of the Stealth Guardians, this was the inner sanctum, a place where few other guardians were allowed to set foot. Important decisions were made within these walls, decisions that could mean life or death for humans and Stealth Guardians alike.
Whenever he sat at the center of the table, Barclay, as primus inter pares, the first among equals, felt the weight of responsibility on his chest. He sensed the winds of change, and he knew their world was at the edge of something new—something that would change all their lives for the worse if he and his fellow Stealth Guardians couldn’t stop it. If only he knew what it was.
Barclay cleared his voice and rested his eyes on the tall man, whose hazel eyes looked anxious and whose dark brown hair looked more disheveled than usual.
“Geoffrey, you called this meeting. The council is eager to hear your report.”
Geoffrey stood. “Brothers, Sisters, Primus—” He nodded toward Barclay. “—I have received disturbing reports from our emisarii. Information has surfaced that the demons have discovered a serum that may make humans more susceptible to their influences.”
A collective gasp rippled through the assembly. Barclay sucked in his breath, the thought of such a thing being possible, shocking him to the core. Was this the change he’d been sensing lately?
“Demons aren’t capable of witchcraft,” Finlay protested loudly.
“Never heard of such a thing!” Riona, one of the two female council members, interjected throwing her hands up in a dramatic gesture. “Besides, the witches are our allies, not theirs.”
Barclay pounded the gavel on the table. “Order! Order!”
His fellow council members fell silent as he lashed an angry glare at them. Then he cast his eyes toward Geoffrey. “Continue with your account.”
Giving a pointed look to Finlay, Geoffrey parted his lips. “Witchcraft no. That we agree on, my friend.”
Barclay was fully aware that Geoffrey and Finlay rarely saw eye to eye on anything. He’d had to mediate many a fight between the two guardians, who were as stubborn as they came. For once, he hoped that no such fight broke out at this meeting. Circumstances were too dire to have to waste time on a useless display of excess testosterone as if the two were green teenagers and not the hardened men who had