“O’Shea. Let me look in first, then I’ll give you the okay.”

He ducked his head inside the crack before I could stop him. “There isn’t anything, just a slab of rock.” He reached out and tapped said slab with his sword. That would make this easier. O’Shea didn’t have any natural ability to cross the veil, at least not without help.

“Go check down there.” I pointed to another tunnel off the main branch, one that didn’t have any light going down it, handing him the flashlight. “I’ll backtrack and see what I can find, maybe we missed something.”

I watched him walk away, his sword raised as if it were a gun. The flashlight held at the handle gave him lots of light as he stepped into the tunnel’.

Two strides and I was inside the crack I knew was the entrance I needed. Squinting my eyes, I looked past what this side of the veil showed me and got a good look at what was really there. A doorway painted a deep maroon and boasting a large lock stood between me and India. I tried the handle, knowing before I did that it wouldn’t be so easy. It didn’t move, not even a slight jiggle. Fuck, why was I not surprised?

Putting one hand against the door, wishing I could just bust through, I considered my options. One, I could try to force it, using my sword as a hammer on the lock. But this wasn’t one of my swords Milly had spelled for me, so it was unlikely it would hold up to that kind of abuse. Two, I could try to figure out the spell they had locking this down, but again, without Milly helping, that would be impossible. Unless there was an even simpler solution than that. More mundane.

“Keys,” I muttered. There had to be a key somewhere.

Like on the two Coven members we’d dispatched.

Bolting out of the crevice, I ran back to where we’d left them. The woman was still breathing, but I doubted she’d have the key on her. He was the one in control of things; that much had been obvious. A quick frisk of his pockets and I had a small key palmed, a feeling of relief coursing through me.

“Hang on, India, just a little bit longer,” I whispered as I ran back to the crack in the wall. Slipping in, I put my hand on the door.

His flashlight didn’t give as much light as he would have liked, and the mineshaft was darker than anything he’d ever dealt with before. If he’d had his way, they wouldn’t have separated, but on this front, Adamson knew what she was doing, and for the first time in his life he was starting to trust his partner.

Wow. Trust and partner in the same sentence; how had that happened? And with Adamson, of all people? There was no longer the driving lust he’d felt from the spell, though he could admit she was a beautiful woman; now it had more to do with her dedication to finding this kid, even when the case was so obviously similar to her little sister’s. She didn’t get distracted by anything. Once she decided a kid needed rescuing, even he and the FBI couldn’t deter her. That was worth something to him. Not to mention she had saved his ass a number of times already.

Something on the wall caught his eye. Lifting his sword and light up, he was shocked at the symbols etched into the stone; and it wasn’t just one, it was hundreds. Chills swept him, a visceral response to something his body knew was dangerous. Deadly.

She had to see this.

“Adamson?” O’Shea called out softly.

I cringed as his voice echoed through the cavernous space. “Here.” I didn’t want him to get suspicious.

“I think I found something.”

What the hell? He couldn’t have found anything, unless . . .

“It’s a trap!” I spun on my heel and ran toward his voice. Shit, I hadn’t even considered he’d be able to set off booby traps. They should have been keyed only to supernaturals, one of which he definitely was not.

I sprinted toward the tunnel I’d sent him down, cursing myself for my idiocy. I should have checked first, should have made sure it was safe. His death would be on my shoulders.

Breathing hard, I sped toward the small pinprick of light I could see, knowing it would be too late.

O’Shea turned to face me as I skidded to a stop in front of him, fear making me sweat more than the run, my face damp with perspiration. He looked okay, the planes of his face were sharpened by the way the light hit him, but I didn’t see any wounds, no gaping holes or the smell of spells being prepped.

He motioned to the wall, not noticing I was totally freaked out, for which I was grateful.

“Check this out; do you know what it means?” He shone the flashlight on the wall.

I sucked in a large gulp of air. It was a hieroglyph that looked eerily like the pictures India had been drawing all her life. There were stick figures, their bodies neither male nor female, surrounded by orbs. As O’Shea followed the picture’s progression with the flashlight, the orbs grew more and more numerous until they completely covered the stick people.

I could guess at what it meant, but didn’t really want to. Seeing it like this and not in a child’s colourful crayon drawings made me re-think what exactly was going on. Possession was an ugly thing, and if those orbs weren’t the kind and loving souls of those who’d gone on before us, then they were the souls who’d been cast down into darkness and were looking for a second chance.

“It’s bad. That’s what it is.” I suddenly didn’t want to cross the veil without O’Shea at my side. It had been a long time since I’d been really afraid, but the idea of being possessed, or dealing with people who were possessed, was a hard one for me to swallow.

“Come on, I found the way in.” I jogged back the way we’d come. He followed and I felt him pause as I headed toward the crevice in the wall.

“What are you doing?”

“You have to trust me. This is the entrance,” I said, slipping into the crack.

He followed right on my heels. “You were going to go in without me.” His accusation hit the mark, but I didn’t flinch.

“You have no idea what this all is, the supernatural is something you don’t understand, which makes it dangerous not only for you, but me and India.” My anxiety grew and it was apparent in my voice. This was taking too long. At any moment, we could be dealing with more of the Coven members, looking for their missing people. “If you’re going to come with me, you’re going to do what I say, when I say it. Got it, Agent O’Shea?”

Jaw clenched, he gave a curt nod, but said nothing.

Letting out a breath, I turned my back to him and put my hand on the lock he couldn’t see. “Hang on to me, and close your eyes until I tell you otherwise.”

His hands grabbed the waistband of my jeans, fingers brushed against my spine. I fit the key into the lock and turned the handle, the mechanism clicking as it unlatched, but otherwise it was quiet.

I stepped through, O’Shea tight behind me, his hand not loosening on my jeans. The veil shimmered around me and I glanced back at O’Shea. His eyes were dutifully closed, but his face twisted in a grimace like he’d smelled something bad. I took one more step, which pulled him all the way across and his face eased as did my tension.

Reaching back, I loosened his fingers. “You can open your eyes.”

He did, and I took the opportunity to look around myself. The thing with crossing the veil was you never knew where exactly you were going to end up. Today, it looked as though we were in a medieval castle. Carved stone walls partially covered with expensive tapestries and oil paintings. Other than that, I couldn’t tell where exactly we were. For all I knew, we were in England or France.

“Where . . .” O’Shea started to ask.

I lifted a finger to my lips. Reaching for India, I could feel her life force stronger than ever, pulsating with a steady rhythm that would have given me hope if not for her lack of emotion. She was alive, but no one was home.

Pressing up against the wall, I skirted the edges of the room. I didn’t have to look back to know O’Shea would be doing the same.

Now that I was on the same side of the veil as India, I could pinpoint her with ease. Following the pull of her life force, I jogged, wanting to get to her as fast as possible. Distracted by my concern for her lack of emotions, I wasn’t paying attention as I should have been; took a sharp right and ran straight into the back of a tall, cloaked figure.

I had a moment of uncertainty, back pedalling as if I could take back my blunder, putting distance between us.

The figure turned; his face only partially visible in the light flickering around us. He looked like someone I knew, or had known a long time ago. Eyes that spoke of pain and suffering, yet light and beauty also captured their azure depths.

“Well, Rylee, it seems the Coven was right. You did turn up after all.” His voice was smooth, and I had images flashing through my mind of black satin bed-sheets, rose petals and crisp white wine. I struggled against his hold on my mind. Except for the Unicorn, no one had been able to turn my gifts on me before. Yet, while I’d had no doubt the Unicorn meant me no harm, this man could hurt me without a single moment of lost sleep.

Something pulled me back and I blinked, unaware I’d been slowly moving toward those blue eyes and hypnotizing voice.

“Adamson, focus!” A growl rumbled in my ear, O’Shea pulling me back to myself.

With a speed that surprised even me, I whipped my sword up, pressing the point into the hollow of the cloaked man’s throat.

He lifted his hands as if he meant no harm. The bright slash of a silver ring on his left hand caught the light as he moved. “I won’t try to stop you; go rescue the child if you want. It’s of no consequence to me.”

My mouth was dry. “Who are you?” Not that it mattered, not to India, but I had to know.

He smiled, the edges of his lips creeping up over a glimpse of white teeth. “I don’t think I’ll tell you. Not today. Rylee.”

A shiver rippled through me; my name on his lips made me want to throw my clothes on the floor, and writhe na**d against him. Trembling, I fought the urge, but again, it was O’Shea who snapped me out of it.

“Let’s go.” The agent shoved me in the back, jabbing at my spine to prod me forward and around the man who’d so fully caught me in his snare. That thought was what it took to drive me out of my stupor.