One Light and one Dark stood together closest to Dorcha as they listened to him. The other Light and Dark stood a couple of steps behind their counterparts. Rordan’s gaze moved to who appeared to be the leaders of the four. He studied the Dark, the sides of his head shaved and a pompadour style on top that looked much better than Dorcha’s.
Something about these Fae made Rordan think of when Dubhan and Kyra had run into a mixed group of Fae who had then attempted to attack them. They believed that the group was an offshoot of the Others. Dubhan and Cathal had both said the group was very powerful. These four certainly fit that description.
“Do you have what we requested?” the Dark demanded.
“I’m almost certain, but I need more time,” Dorcha told them. “Things are coming together. I can’t rush any of it.”
“We’ve given you more than enough time,” the Light Fae stated in a cold voice. His black hair was long and loose, his clothes high quality.
Dorcha shifted nervously. “I’ve only recently found it. The last one turned out not to be what you sought. I want to make sure this time.”
The lead Dark turned his head and looked directly at Rordan. Rordan might be veiled, but he knew better than to move. He didn’t know how the Dark knew he was there, but it was obvious that the Fae did. The more Rordan watched them, the more he suspected the group’s powers might be close to those of a Reaper.
“Please,” Dorcha begged.
The Dark swung his head back to Dorcha. “Have you gotten Patrick and Casey settled yet?”
“I’m working on it,” Dorcha answered.
The Dark just stared. It was the Light who said, “Need I remind you what we’re holding?”
Dorcha shook his head. “I’m well aware what you have.”
“We’ll be back in two nights. You’d better have what we seek by then,” the Light stated.
Three of the Fae teleported out, but the lead Dark remained, his gaze once more focused in Rordan’s direction. Several tense seconds passed as Rordan waited to see if the Dark would throw magic to uncover whether someone was veiled. Finally, he left. Rordan watched as Dorcha ran a hand down his face to wipe away the sweat and then sighed loudly. After a couple of minutes to compose himself, Dorcha plastered on a smile and started back toward the manor.
Rordan jumped to the small cottage he’d been renting and called Dubhan’s name. The Reaper didn’t take long to appear. The moment he did, Rordan asked, “Tell me again about the group of Fae you and Kyra ran across when you went to visit Max.”
Dubhan’s brows snapped together, and his red eyes filled with concern. “There were eight of them. Four Light, four Dark. But there seemed to be a leader for both.”
“Did the Light have long hair?”
Dubhan thought a moment, then nodded. “Aye. The one in charge of the Dark had the sides of his hair trimmed very close and—”
“A pompadour hairstyle,” Rordan finished.
“You found them.”
Rordan briefly raised his brows. “It looks as if I did.”
“So Dorcha is involved in this new group of Others as Erith suspected.”
“I don’t know specifics yet, but I’m going to find out.”
Dubhan’s red eyes grew intense. “You need to be careful. These Others are powerful.”
“I know. I was veiled, but the lead Dark still kept looking my way.”
“If they discover a Reaper is here, they’ll go straight for you.”
“That is if they know about Reapers,” Rordan replied.
Dubhan snorted loudly. “Always expect them to know. It’s better that way. You shouldn’t be on this mission alone. You need someone to watch your back. The others can handle their search for Xaneth. I’m going to stay with you.”
“If I need help, I’ll give a shout. I can handle this. I’m just gathering information.”
Dubhan bowed his head. “Watch your back, brother.”
After Dubhan left, Rordan sat in his cottage for another few minutes before teleporting to the manor.
Dubhan jumped back to Barcelona, where the Reapers were gathered. Eoghan took one look at him and motioned him over.
“What happened?” the leader asked.
Dubhan ran a hand down his face. “The same Others Kyra and I ran into showed up at Moorehall.”
Eoghan’s quicksilver eyes briefly flared. “Erith was right, then. Dorcha and that family are involved with the Others. What else did Rordan tell you?”
“Nothing. I told him I’d remain and watch his back, but he said he could handle the mission. This group he’s looking into is formidable.”
“Rordan is undercover, which means we can’t pop in or have him come to us. If he gets into a bind, he’ll let us know.”
Dubhan shook his head. “That group knew Kyra and I were there. And they sensed Rordan tonight. If they suspect a Reaper is near, they’ll hunt him.”
“You’re speculating that they know about the Reapers.”
“I’d rather not underestimate them. The Others knew of us. If this group is an offshoot of them—or worse, the same group with different members—then they know.”
Eoghan flattened his lips as he nodded. “Good point. I’ll speak to Erith and Cael.”
“Xaneth?” Dubhan asked.
Eoghan blew out a deep breath. “Nothing. Yet.”
“We’ll find him.”
“I’m not sure what state he’ll be in when we do. We’re assuming he left Usaeil’s house on his own. All we could discern for certain was that he had been there.”
“He was there, and he left,” Aisling stated as she walked past.
Dubhan watched her. She was the first female Reaper, but to the rest of them, she was a sister.
“She’ll be fine,” Eoghan said, referring to Aisling. Then he slapped Dubhan on the shoulder and teleported out.
“Well?”
Borgar crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at his Light counterpart, Hemming, dressed in his all-white ensemble. It made him want to gag. “Someone was there.”
“A Reaper?” Hemming asked.
“They were veiled.”
Hemming’s nostrils flared. “We could’ve taken him right then. A single blast of magic would have revealed them. You know this.”
Borgar shook his head. “If it was a Reaper, they would’ve come at us.”
“Or they were spying.”
“You’re the one who believes the way to the Reapers is through Dorcha’s meetings. I think it’s shite.”
Hemming rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know perfectly well what you think.”
“If we were the ones making decisions, nothing would get done because I believe your ideas are shite, and you think the same of mine.”
“Definitely,” Hemming stated emphatically.
Borgar inhaled a sharp breath and released it. “We put the pressure on Dorcha. If there is a Reaper at Moorehall, he’ll show up in two nights.”
“The beginning of the end of them,” Hemming said with a smile.
Chapter Ten