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“New Mexico makes sense, as hellhounds tend to like the heat. Don’t they need to be close to the entrance to the Underworld?”
Brie shook her head. “No. They can pretty much shimmer from wherever, and they move between the worlds. She’s not certain that she doesn’t want to try and strengthen our ties to the Phantom Fire and their main stronghold is in the Winds. Are Scott and Kyra settling in?”
“As if Windsong had always been theirs. I did get a call from Jax telling me to reel Kyra in where the Resistance is concerned. She thinks with Strode’s downfall, they’re resting on their laurels.”
Brie shook her head. “I think Kyra may have the most difficult job of all.”
“Agreed. I console myself with the fact that she has Scott by her side and those at Windsong to support her. How’s Adriana?”
“She and Salem have struck up quite the friendship, although it’s more like a partnership. Adriana has been teaching her witchcraft, and the two are sort of exploring together what it means to be wolf.”
“Cullen called and wants me to urge Adriana to join them at Ghost Moon Manor.”
“I think she and his pack are safer if she stays here, and this is where she wants to be.”
“The latter, of course, is the most important, but I also don’t think it’s wise to have the only two witch/wolf hybrids in the same place. There might be others, but there’s not so much as a whisper about it.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. I know you thought I dismissed your idea of having a second beta to sort of coordinate our efforts here in the UK and Europe, but what do you think about asking Adriana?”
“If she’s not opposed, I think she’s an inspired choice. She brings a different and fresh perspective to the work you do. You and Caye have always been shifters. Adriana knows what it’s like firsthand to be turned and to wake up as something entirely different. She’s also got a good head on her shoulders.”
“All of that is true. It might also keep her from focusing on finding Eoghan and wiping him from existence.”
“You mean killing him.”
Brie shook her head. “Not just killing him but sending him into the shadowlands. Apparently, banshees get cranky when you harm one of their own. And while she might no longer be a pureblood banshee, she means to see he never does this to anyone else—in this life or the next.”
“It never ceases to amaze me how people refer to females as the weaker sex,” Colby said with a chuckle. “I’d rather go up against a pissed off man than a righteously angry woman any day of the week.”
“And rightly so,” she agreed and snuggled into his arms, nuzzling his neck as she laid her head on his shoulders. “With the League in turmoil, I’d like to focus the work of the Shadow Sisters back on helping female shifters get out of bad situations. When we were driving back from the village, Caye, Adriana, and I talked about expanding our mission to include those who aren’t shifters—witches, vampires, fae, humans—all of those who don’t have a voice or ability to free and protect themselves.”
“You’ll have to be careful about how you handle humans. They aren’t always reliable about keeping the secrets of the various paranormals they discover.”
Brie nodded. “I don’t disagree. But how do we turn our backs on some human female being sold into sexual slavery? I’m not sure any of us could stomach that. You started being who you are because you realized there had to be someone to provide justice to those who don’t fit neatly into the right niche.”
“True. I’m not saying it isn’t worth doing, but I do think you’ll need to be careful and selective. You might easily find an ally in Greg. He started life as a human.”
“But Halsey turned him to save his life.”
“He did, but he still has an understanding of what that might be like.”
“Speaking of our fair-haired doctor, were we that bad?”
“As Greg and Adriana? Not a chance. We were much more circumspect.”
There was a moment of silence before they both burst out laughing. There was no way to know what was in store, and Colby suspected St. Piran’s Abbey would become a hotbed of intrigue and danger, but those who lived here were prepared to take it on—partly because they had no choice, but partly because they did and chose to do so.
Greg
Ten Years Ago
Greg Summerlin had only seen armed conflicts on television or in the movies. He had never expected to experience the horror that was real battle or its aftermath. Never expected to be in one, but then Oliver Halsey had shown up on campus, talking to pre-med students about enlisting in the armed services, and it had sounded like a good deal. Enlist and get the rest of your training paid for by the U.S. government.
It was a special program, and those who were accepted would be orderlies and ambulance drivers assigned to hospitals—either on a ship or an army base. They weren’t even given proper training—the need was too great. When Halsey had shown up at Ramstein Air Base and asked to speak to him, Greg had been flattered.
“Commander Halsey? The attending said you wanted to see me.”
The tall, imposing special ops commander had crossed the room and shaken his hand. “Have a seat, Greg. I wanted to talk to you to see if I could twist your arm a bit. Would you like a beer?”
