“Wait.” He ran to the door as a flurry of scratching noises sounded outside. “They’re coming.”

“What?”

He opened the door and her cat raced inside, hissing.

“They’re coming!” He stepped outside to grab her sash and knife.

“Zoltan!” She leaped out of bed. “You must leave!”

He slammed the door shut, bolted it, and handed her the knife. While she slipped it back into the sheath attached to her leg, he quickly knotted her sash together. “Put this back on and tie it over the other knot so it won’t show.”

She grabbed the sash. “Stop worrying about me. Get out of here now.”

He looked about the room. “I don’t want you to be in trouble.”

“Zoltan, they’ll kill you if they find you here.” She quickly tied the sash. “Go out the back window now!”

He grabbed one of Frederic’s books off the wooden chest and handed it to her. “Tell them you couldn’t sleep and came here for a book. You were reading in bed.”

Voices shouted outside, followed by the screeching sound of swords being pulled from their sheaths.

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Panic seized Neona, and she shoved Zoltan toward the back window.

“I’ll be fine,” he whispered, pausing to grab the plastic container of food off the floor.

A fist pounded on the door.

“Neona!” the queen shouted. “Open this door!”

“Just a minute.” Neona made sure Zoltan was at the back window before she slid the bolt. She cracked open the door. “Is there a problem?”

Queen Nima flung open the door, and Neona jumped back. She glanced over her shoulder, but Zoltan was gone.

“Who was here?” the queen demanded as she circled the room, her sword drawn and ready.

Neona lifted the book in her hands. “I was just—”

“No one outside.” Winifred paused in the doorway.

“Did you check this window?” Nima pointed her sword at the back window.

“I did.” Freya stepped into view outside and peered at them through the open window. “I was here waiting, but no one came out.”

Nima frowned at her daughter. “What are you doing here? Why does the owl keep telling me there’s an invader?”

Neona swallowed hard. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” At least that much was true. “I shared my house with Minerva for so long, and now she’s not there. So I came here, thinking a book might help.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Freya gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s hard on you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Freddie.”

Winifred nodded. “It was bad enough to lose our mother and Farah.”

Queen Nima surveyed the room, then sighed. “We had the cabin surrounded. We would have seen someone leaving.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with that owl lately. Freddie, put the fire out, then you and Freya take a quick look through the woods.”

“Yes, your majesty,” the two women murmured.

“Neona, take the book home with you. No more leaving the valley in the middle of the night.”

Neona followed her mother out the door, with Zhan trotting alongside her. She glanced toward the woods, wondering if Zoltan was running to the nearest village. He had a good head start, so he should be able to arrive without Freddie or Freya catching him.

But they had surrounded the cabin. She glanced back at the house. How had Zoltan managed to escape?

Zoltan watched from the top of a tree as Neona accompanied her mother back to the rope ladder. Two of the warrior women were below, searching the hillside.

A sour taste of self-disgust lodged in his throat. He felt like a damned coward, leaving Neona alone to handle the fallout. But she would have been in a lot more trouble if he had stayed. Not to mention the fact that they had looked ready to skewer him first and talk later. These women took their no-men-allowed rule seriously. Before he made himself known to them, he would need to prove that he was on their side.

He teleported straight to the library in his castle, then called Milan to have him investigate the area in Tibet where the women of Beyul-La lived.

“We need to safeguard the area for them, make it off limits to any outside development,” he told Milan as he e-mailed the coordinates from the GPS tracker on his cell phone. “Get as much surrounding territory as you can.”

“I understand,” Milan answered. “You realize this could cost in the millions?”

“Yes, I know. Keep me apprised.” Zoltan hung up and called Angus. “Were you able to track down Frederic Chesterton?”

“Aye,” Angus replied. “He died here in London during a bombing raid in the second human world war. I’ve located his son, Franklin, and he’s agreed to meet me tomorrow. I was going to call to see what ye wanted me to ask him.”

“You’ll have to be careful. Franklin may not remember anything from the first six years of his life. If he’s who I think he is, his mother was one of the warrior women of Beyul-La. Calliope. She died six years ago. He has sisters, Winifred and Freya, who are still alive. If he remembers them, he might enjoy hearing about them.”

“Verra well. I’ll use some mind control first to see what he remembers before proceeding.” Angus paused. “Howard told me what he knows, that these warrior women are hiding something that Master Han and Lord Liao want. Any idea what it could be?”

Zoltan paused, not ready to divulge his suspicion that the women had some sort of fountain of youth. Neona’s strong reaction had seemed to confirm it. “I’m working on it. And working on gaining Neona’s trust. I was wondering if Emma would be—”

Angus chuckled. “We were thinking the same thing. Since they doona trust men, we could send our own warrior woman. Emma’s ready to go.”

“Good. I’ll let you know when.” Zoltan hung up, then paced about the library. He gave the bellpull a tug so Domokos could bring his late-night bottle of warmed-up blood.

As he wandered about the room, he wondered how to go about making a good first impression on the women of Beyul-La. Gifts, perhaps? But what would they like? He thought back to what Neona had said about the long winters. They made their clothes. Should he give them some bolts of silk? Some embroidery thread? They also practiced their fighting skills every day.

Of course! Weapons. He had some new hunting knives in the armory they might like. And perhaps a supply of arrows? Some new swords?

What else? His gaze drifted across the bookshelves in his library. The books in Frederic’s cabin were practically falling apart from heavy use.

He sat at his desk, and on the computer, he located an online bookseller. But what to buy? Apparently, the women had enjoyed Ivanhoe and A Tale of Two Cities, so he ordered a few books by Sir Walter Scott and Charles Dickens. And Neona had said Pride and Prejudice was her favorite, so he bought some other works by Jane Austen.

Domokos shuffled inside and set his tray on the table by the hearth. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my lord?”

“No, I’m fine. There should be a package arriving tomorrow. Books.”

“Yes, my lord.” Domokos filled a wineglass with synthetic blood.

“Do you know of any authors similar to Jane Austen?”

“Excuse me?”

“I need some books like Pride and Prejudice.”

“Ah.” Domokos gave him a curious look. “Have you taken a sudden interest in Regency England?”

“I’m buying some gifts,” Zoltan muttered. “I need to make friends with a group of women.”

“Women?”

“You heard me.” Zoltan gave his steward an annoyed look as the old man brought the wineglass to him. “Any ideas?”

“My wife likes to read historical romance novels.” Domokos handed him the wineglass. “I believe they are quite similar.”

“All right. I’ll get some of those.” He took a long drink.

“My wife is also particularly fond of vampire romance.”

Zoltan swallowed so hard that his eyes watered. “Are you serious? Do people really write those? And read them?”

“I’m afraid so, my lord. They appear to be quite popular.”

“Why?” Zoltan set the glass down. “We’re dead half the time. And until recently, we couldn’t father children.”




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