stabbed out with demon bone, giving Veritas something else to be cross with me about. No, mate. Stay close.”
“Where do you think we are?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“Hopefully, just inside of Durham,” Ian replied.
“Durham, North Carolina?”
He chuckled. “No. Durham, England.”
Chapter 21
We continued to walk. After twenty minutes, I saw lights beyond the trees. I floated up until I was past the forest canopy to get a better look, surprised by how much effort it took. I must have exhausted most of my energy splitting and holding that acid lake in the netherworld.
Oh, well. No deadly lake to deal with here. Just a stately manor with flowering vines creeping up past the second floor, giving the manor a red hue even though it was constructed from beige and gray stone. Some of the architecture dated to the fifteenth century, while other additions were clearly newer.
“English manor ahead,” I said when I was back on my feet.
“Good. Then I didn’t miss my mark.”
I shot furtive looks at Ian as we continued to walk. He must be in worse shape than I was, not to have flown up and checked for himself. Was it exhaustion from the effort it took to teleport us? He’d said Phanes’s realm had extraordinary shields blocking all from entering except Phanes and whoever Phanes brought with him. Ian had clearly found a way around that, but how? And how did his strange new scars factor into that?
As soon as we were safe, I intended to find out.
Lights blazed from several directions as soon as we left the shelter of the forest and stepped onto the manicured grounds of the estate. I gave a slight wince at their brightness, but Ashael cursed and leapt back into the tree line like his ass had suddenly been set on fire.
“High voltage UV!” he snarled. “What the fuck, Ian?”
“Eh, those must be new,” Ian replied in an unperturbed tone. “Still, this is why I told you not to go ahead of me. There are multiple salt bombs stationed around the manor, too.”
Even from the tree line, I saw Ashael’s glare. “Where have you brought me? A demon-killing headquarters?”
I raised a brow at Ian, too. Motion-sensor UV lights were not your average backyard décor.
He waved an unconcerned hand. “Nothing so dramatic. They’ve just had unpleasant experiences with demons before and don’t want any repeats. Still, stay here until I have them turn off their UV lights.”
With that, Ian continued toward the manor house. After an apologetic look at Ashael, I followed. Ian walked straight down the middle of the wide stretch of grass between the tree line and the manor; another security feature, though more subtle. Still, the lack of hedges, gardens, gazebos, and other lawn décor commonly found on such properties meant that anyone approaching the manor from the yard had nothing to hide behind.
We had just reached the portico that bridged the driveway and the steps leading to the front door when I caught rapid movement in my peripheral vision.
Ian caught it, too. He stopped and raised his hands in the universal gesture for surrender.
“Don’t get antsy, lads. If I were an enemy, I wouldn’t walk straight up to the house. Tell Charles that Ian is here.”
Must be Charles DeMortimer. My former dossier on Ian had included his closest associates, so from it, I knew that Charles had been a member of British aristocracy back when he was human. Guess he’d kept his ancestral estate these past three centuries.
One of the guards repeated Ian’s directive into his communications device. Moments later, the manor’s front door swung open, revealing a tall man with spiky black hair and ivory-colored skin.
“Ian!” Charles said, sweeping down the stone steps.
“Double-check!” a feminine voice shouted from inside.
Charles stopped before he reached us. Ian saluted in the direction of the open doorway behind Charles.
“Good on you, Denise, for making sure I’m not an imposter, especially now that we have more than shape-shifting demons to fret about. An illusion master is on the loose, so don’t settle for only seeing if I can cross the threshold without invitation. Demand more proof.”
With that, Ian hopped up the stairs, walked inside, and walked back out; something no demon could do.
“Now,” Ian said. “Ask me something only I would know.”
“Where’s your piercing?” Charles asked.
Ian laughed. “Mate, thousands of people know that answer. Try again with a less obvious question.”
“Now I know it’s you,” Charles muttered. “Since you insist, what’s the name of the ship that took us to New South