The ground floor of the old barn was one long room, its stone walls and beams on full show and utterly gorgeous. The log fire blazed at one end, the kitchen and the stairs leading up to the next floor were at the other.
I walked around the large, comfortable-looking sofa and headed up. There were three rooms up here—two bedrooms and a bathroom. I walked into the latter, stripped off my stinking, putrid clothes, and switched on the taps, waiting until the water was hot before stepping under. I scrubbed at my skin with the flowery soap, needing to remove the stench and the grime from every part of my body. It was a task that took far too long and, even after I’d stepped out, I could still smell traces of the thick, foul sludge. But maybe that was simply memory playing tricks.
I headed out naked to look for my clothes and found them sitting on the bed in the largest room. Luc had not only gotten a couple of pairs of jeans and sweaters, but also bras, panties, and boots. All of them fit perfectly. Obviously, the brief time we’d shared a bed at the safe house Ginny had organized had not gone astray.
Once I’d pulled on the new clothes and boots and strapped on my knives, I headed back down the stairs. Luc’s gaze swept me and came up pleased. “Glad they all fit.”
I walked over, dropped a kiss on his cheek, then leaned past his arm to see what he was cooking. “Yum. Spaghetti.”
“And it’s just about ready. You want to grab some bowls? They’re in the drawer to your left.”
I got them out and, after he’d dished everything up, grabbed two of the bowls and walked over to the L-shaped sofa, handing Mo one before dropping down beside her.
“We need a plan of attack.”
Luc sat beside me, his thigh brushing mine and sending all sorts of delicious heat tumbling through me. “We tried tracking Max when you were snatched. He’s protected.”
“Against any magical means of tracking, yes.” I glanced at Mo. “But is it possible we can find him via his weight on the earth?”
She pursed her lips. “Possibly, but it’ll take some time. The bigger problem is the fact it will likely require a constant connection, and I’m not sure either of us have the strength to waste on something like that.”
“Meaning,” Luc cut in, “that Gwen has inherited some of your mage abilities?”
I swore internally. I’d forgotten I hadn’t gotten around to telling him that.
“It would appear so,” Mo said gravely. “But it’s not something we realized until she drew Elysian. There’d been no indication before then.”
“Does this mean she’s inherited your long life as well?” His gaze was on mine even though the question was aimed at Mo.
She hesitated. “At this point, that’s an unknown. But I would say most likely.”
I had no doubt he was thinking about sharing a life with someone who’d basically never age while he grew older and eventually died.
Would that fact kill our relationship before it truly got off the ground? Fate was all very well and good, but living with someone who’d barely age in any normal way would undoubtedly take an emotional toll, no matter how great love was.
“The males of my family are very long-lived,” he said eventually. “I guess I’ll just need to hope those genes were passed on to me.”
“That,” Mo said, voice a little wry, “sounds like an acceptance of fate to me.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “As you delight in reminding me, my fate was a foregone conclusion. We just all need to survive the current situation to put acceptance into action.”
Something I had every intention of doing. I scooped up more spaghetti and then said, “What about the wind? Would she be able to find Max for us?”
Mo smiled. “The wind—like all the other elements—is a force we can plug into and use, but she is not a dog. You cannot simply give her a ‘find’ command and expect her to obey.”
“Well, that’s damn well disappointing.” I paused. “What about Winter, then? If we could grab one of them, we could use him as bait to draw Max out.”
“Max wouldn’t fall for such a basic trap,” Luc said. “He’s many things, but he’s not stupid. Besides, we have no idea how many clones are out there, so capturing just one isn’t going to give us much leverage.”
I growled in frustration. “There has to be something we can do. We need to take the attack up to them rather than simply reacting.”
“I agree,” Mo said. “But Darkside has always had one major advantage over us—a place of safety to retreat to.”
“Have any witches ever tried crossing over to Darkside?” I asked. “Willingly, I mean, with the intent of attack.”
“There were mages once who tried.” Her face twisted. “It did not go well.”
“They died?”
“Five of the six did. Darkside might be a dark echo of this world, but her energies are very different. We are not equipped to deal with them. It twists the soul and sends you mad.”
“Is that what happened in the case of the one who made it back?”
She nodded. “He was … different.”
“In what way? Physically or mentally?” I asked.
“Both.”
“But was that caused by the power they’d tried to use?” Luc asked. “Or by Darkside itself?”
I looked at him. “It can’t have been the place. Max’s twins have both been there, and Rione, at least, hasn’t been affected.”
“Perhaps she was never taken fully into Darkside, but rather into some midpoint between our two worlds,” he said. “There have been multiple rumors of Darkside way stations over the centuries, though we’ve never found any evidence of them.”
“How would that be possible when neither side has any control over the forces that create the gates?”
“Darkside may not be able to control those forces, but it’s likely they’ve learned to manipulate them, at least to a certain extent,” Mo said. “The gateways are a necessity to them, whereas for us, they’re an evil that needs to be contained.”
“If these way stations do exist, why have we never attacked them?”
“Because we have never been able to find them.”
I finished the last bit of my dinner, then placed the bowl on the table. “Riona said Winter took her and Reign to Darkside to be schooled in demon script and magic. What if she meant a way station rather than Darkside itself?”
“I’m not sure either of them would be able to give firm directions,” Luc said. “They’re only young.”
“Riona is an old woman in a young body,” I said. “And I don’t think there’s much she’d ever miss. It’d be worth ringing Jackie and getting her to ask. We’ve really nothing to lose.”
Mo nodded. “You have her new number?”
I got out my phone and scrolled through the contacts. I’d listed Jackie’s new number as “hairdresser new number,” simply because I couldn’t risk Max getting hold of my phone and using the number to track her down. He’d know Mo wouldn’t hand his children over to anyone she didn’t utterly trust, and there were few enough people in her life that applied to.