Chapter One
Ivor
The warp to the small town of Canon Beach, Oregon left Ivor Bellerose so disoriented and breathless he dropped his satchel and fell to his knees, his jeans landing in a puddle of mud. Salt from the ocean air was sharp on his tongue, and he focused on that rather than on the way the trees were spinning whenever he opened his eyes.
“Well, shit,” he muttered as he wobbled to his feet then bent at the waist to try and get his breath back. His jeans were toast, partially wet and covered in mud. Some of the mud had splattered on his favorite beige cable knit sweater, as well.
This was going to make a good first impression.
He scowled up at his laughing best friend Emory, who was mud free and looking none the worse for wear in his black slacks and gray sweater. The angel’s overnight bag was still on his shoulder next to his white wings. His wavy blond hair danced in the sea breeze as he threw his head back and cackled. Emory absolutely loved instantaneous travel.
“You’re a freak,” Ivor muttered.
“It’s a wild ride, and I adore it.” Emory took a shaky step. “Still leaves my legs feeling weird. Doesn’t last long, though.”
Lake, the warper wizard who had brought them to Oregon, took a few moments to recover, made sure they were okay, then disappeared back to Seattle. With the world thankfully back in place now, Ivor picked up his bag and looked around the tree-lined road. They’d arrived out of sight of the home, but according to the map, it wasn’t far down the lane. Glancing at his muddy pants again, he frowned. He hated showing up to a place dirty.
“So just what do we plan to say to this family?” Emory asked as he stepped onto the paved road next to them and started walking. “It’s not like we can just stroll up there and say a draugr is on the loose.” He chuckled. “Nor can we claim to be traveling bodyguards, though that idea is humorous.”
“Maybe stay back and watch the house? Kind of at a loss myself.” They’d come here because the draugr—basically an animated corpse—could be after stolen treasure, and that put this family in danger.
The house came into view. A large, two-story red brick home that obviously had a private path to the beach behind it.
Ivor whistled. “Bet this property is worth a pretty penny.”
Emory stopped and raised one eyebrow. “What is it with you and property values lately?”
Ivor shrugged and blew out a breath. “I’m looking into buying a place of my own. I’m tired of renting apartments.”
“Ahh, the urge to settle down happening? Only took you four hundred and some years.”
He scowled at his friend. “Hey now, I’ve owned houses before. It’s just that I feel settled where we are now, and with Dax making Seattle more permanent, I don’t want to leave. You don’t plan to leave, do you?”
“No plans for that right now. I love this job. And I love Seattle. Besides, for two hundred years, the three of us have been tight. I don’t see that changing, and if you’re both permanently settling there, then that’s where I want to be as well.
Ivor couldn’t help but smile. He, Emory and Dax had been close for a very long time. The two were his best friends—his family. Dax had recently discovered his soulmate and was planning to move into Everett’s place. Ivor was so damned happy for Dax, who had always been the sort to cherish relationships over Emory’s preferred variety.
Ivor, too, enjoyed a variety of lovers, though his were more out of necessity than choice. As an incubus, his magic fed on sex, so he needed a lot of it to remain sharp.
They had all recently learned that humans could be soulmates, and this had given Ivor a little hope because he longed for one for himself. But the truth was, he could never just feed off sex with one human. It wouldn’t be enough. When he fed, he drained energy, and tapping a lot of partners kept him from overfeeding on one person. Not that it was a problem now—not without a soulmate.
His thoughts abruptly broke off when a loud scream sounded from inside the house.
He looked at Emory, who met his gaze with a fierce frown. “It’s here,” Emory said.
Ivor usually kept his daggers strapped to his back but hadn’t wanted to scare these people, so he knelt to rummage in his satchel for them. Then they both took off running toward the house.
They hurried up the stairs leading to the porch and front door, and Ivor tried the knob to find the house unlocked. Another scream came from inside, so they didn’t bother to announce themselves, running inside.
“That way,” Emory pointed to the right.
They ran through a living area to a room that could have been part of a museum. Display cases filled the large room, but it wasn’t the cases that captured his attention. Three humans were there—two women with red hair and freckles, who cowered in another doorway, and an older man who was being held up against a wall by the draugr.
Seemed they’d arrived just in time.
The draugr looked like a ragged zombie from someone’s worst nightmare. Tattered clothes barely hung from a bone frame that still had bits of dry, leathery skin. Its head was mostly skull, though there were still a bit of leathery scalp and a few tufts of white hair. The worst was the smell. Like garbage that had been left to rot on the hottest summer day.
The man against the wall was turning purple as he struggled for air with the draugr’s hand around his throat. He was kicking, strangled gasping noises escaping his mouth.
