"I've created a wall in front of them," she said.

"And they are?"

"Defenders. I'll explain later."

She scooted along a warren of tunnels, never hesitating as she forked left, then right, then went straight. After a time he heard dripping water. They hurried around to the right, and they were going up a flight of stairs cut into the rock. The little light ball kept glowing merrily away. She ducked into another hole cut in the rock, and he saw a proper little room-a camp bed, a propane stove, and a very elaborate witch's altar presided over by a statue of the Virgin Mary, lavender and white candles, a spray of lavender tied up with a white string, some colorful crystals, and a seash.e.l.l. She sent the glowing ball to the candles, and they lit up one by one. She looked older. She looked as if she had been through a lot.

She sank to her knees and bowed her head, speaking in a language that wasn't Latin, Spanish, or English, and waved her hands about. Witchy matters. He came up beside her. She reached up, found his hand, and squeezed it. "Are the others okay?"

"Holgar's fine. Gone off with Jenn and Antonio." Then he realized that she probably didn't know about Eriko. He didn't want to tell her. Not now, anyway. "What are Defenders?"

"Like golems. I doubt our 'friends' will get through my wall. I've gotten quite good at them," she said, with a hint of pride. "How did they find you?"

"I don't know. I think finder's spell." He winced. "Father Juan gave me a scrying stone to find you, but I dropped it back in that tunnel."

"Oh, dear." Her eyes grew wide. "They may be able to trace us."

"You got backup?" he asked, grimacing as he pictured his lost weapons back in the hard saddlebags of the bike. "Witch mates? I traveled here alone."

"Backup." She took a breath. "Jamie, we're on White magick ground. You know the code."

"An it harm none,'" he intoned. Then he frowned at her. "Leave off. Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds were throwing lightning bolts at me, and we're not supposed to harm them?"

"L-lightning bolts?" she echoed, looking terrified.

"Yeah. That some signature of his?" he asked. "Your ex, what was his name? Est-"

She covered his mouth with both her hands. "Don't say it. Names have power. He might hear you."

He shifted his weight. "Maybe he's the one I shot."

"I hope so," she blurted; then she paled and looked down at her white robe. The spangles were moons and stars. She looked like people he'd seen etchings of about to be burned at the stake or getting their heads chopped off.

"We have to do something," he said. "If they do break down your wall and overtake those Defender lads, we're in big trouble." He picked up one of her candles and mimicked the sound of gunfire. "Take that, you big mean, bad person! I harm you not with my candle!"

"Show respect," Skye snapped, taking the candle from him.

"Skye?" said a voice. There was a girl in the doorway, also dressed in a white robe. She had dark hair and skin. "Who's this?"

"Farrah, this is Jamie. He's one of the Salamancans. Farrah is one of my-my coven sisters."

"Your Salamancan coven?" Farrah said, looking askance at him, then down at his Uzi. "Why are you here?"

"Coven?" Jamie repeated, narrowing his eyes. Skye reddened and kept her gaze averted.

"Skye's with us now," Farrah said, moving protectively toward Skye. "Not you lot."

"What?" Jamie cried.

Skye grimaced. "No one asked me to make a choice."

"It went without saying," Farrah retorted.

"But I belong to both. It was that way before-"

The boom of an explosion shook the earth beneath their feet. Pebbles and chalky dirt sprinkled down from the ceiling. Farrah cried out and grabbed onto Skye. For his part, Jamie checked his Uzi.

"Nice try, witchy, but I think they may be coming through your wall," Jamie said, as a second explosion rocked them. "Come on."

"What's going on?" Farrah asked.

"He was followed," Skye said. "I made a wall-"

Farrah's shock was obvious. "Followed? Weren't you going to come and warn the rest of us?"

"He just got here. Farrah, please, get the others. These men are Dark Witches. I set out two Defenders, but they could get past them."

"How did they know about the tunnel?" Farrah demanded. "How did Jamie? Did you reveal it?"

"Hey, leave off. I've seen that trick before," Jamie cut in. "Thought I'd take a chance. I was scrying for her, and-"

"Scrying?" Farrah shook her head in disbelief. "Is there anything about our Art that you haven't shared with the Salamancans?"

"She didn't. Our priest did," Jamie snapped, not liking the witch at all. Farrah looked bewildered. "Talk later. Time to sound the alarm. a.s.semble your people. We may have a nasty fight on our hands. These lads were hurling lightning bolts at me."

Farrah took Skye's arm. "We have to get out of here, Skye," she said. "Move to safety."

Jamie blinked. "There is no 'safety.' There's fighting."

"Not like this. Not White Witches," Farrah said firmly. "Skye, let's go."

"You don't know what they're like," Skye told Farrah. "My ex allied himself with the Cursed Ones. He's done their magicks. They've changed him."

"All the more reason to leave," Farrah insisted. "Let's go."

Skye looked from Farrah to Jamie and back again. It was clear she was torn. Jamie was incredulous. He was about to remind her of the vows she took as a hunter-to hunt, to attack, to destroy. That was their mission. Not to protect. Not to defend. But to fight-to the death, if necessary. Suicide mission with one, but if only these witches would take a stand- "Jamie, I'm with you," Skye told him. "Farrah, please, get the others."

"It's the wrong thing to do!" Farrah cried.

"If it's . . . him, we can't outrun them," Skye shot back. "Just tell the High Priestess. Tell her. That's all I ask."

Farrah frowned. Then she nodded, obviously coming to a decision.

"Thank you." Skye took a deep breath and looked at Jamie. "I can try to create more Defenders. Maybe they can hold the line until my coven sisters reach the cavern."

"Agreed," Jamie said, flashing her a look of approval.

Together they negotiated the warrens and tunnels by way of her little glow light. Another explosion shook the tunnel, and one of the supporting timbers broke free.

The two stone Defenders stood a few yards ahead of them, shifting on their ma.s.sive feet. Skye's wall before them seemed to wobble and shimmer, and Jamie's hair rose up as if he'd just walked into a field of static electricity.

"They're breaking it down," she said.

"Does that mean they've breached the outer wall?" he asked. Grimly she nodded her head. "Then they've got my weapons and, if they find it, the scrying stone." He raised his Uzi. "Get ready. The only way out for us is through."

"Right," she said, raising her arms. She began to chant.

"Don't hold back," he warned her. "They ain't."

She kept chanting. A wind whistled past him and rushed around the room. He grinned at Skye as the evidence of her power manifested.

The wall jittered. The two Defenders took another giant step forward. Jamie wished he had a rocket launcher. Or twenty.

He could almost see through the wall. See a dark-haired man lying outside the cave, and three others aiming streams of energy at the stone.

"Is that . . . ?" he asked.

"Yes," she murmured, sounding stricken. "But he's not the one lying down. You didn't get him."

Jamie swore under his breath.

The Defenders took another step.

"But Jamie," she said, her voice tight and high. "Jamie, thank you. Thank you for coming to get me."

For getting you killed, more like, he thought. He got ready. Thought of Eri. Clenched his teeth.

"Come on, then, you b.l.o.o.d.y b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!" he shouted.

The cold wind howled all around him, like a dervish. He staggered, losing his grip on the Uzi, and the weight of it spun him in a circle. Then he was falling end over end over end, crazily, as the wind howled and screamed around him. He flailed for Skye, crying out for her, but his words were lost in the chaos.

He slammed against a hard stone floor, nearly knocked senseless, and it took precious seconds to catch his breath and survey his surroundings. He was in some sort of chapel. And he was surrounded by women in white decorated robes like Skye's. As one, they were glaring down at him. If looks could kill . . . well, he'd have taken care of Antonio and Holgar years ago.

"Here she is," said a voice. Farrah.

The white robes parted as Skye was escorted like a prisoner by two more white robes, one on her left side with ginger hair, and a blue-black dye job on the other.

The trio stopped and looked down at Jamie. Skye was freaking out. She reached down a trembling hand to him, but he got to his feet on his own. No sense looking weak. He figured the witches had magickally transported him and Skye from the cave to somewhere else. It would have been a bad fight, them outnumbered and outgunned, but he withheld his grat.i.tude for the moment. He figured he had not been saved because they wanted to save him.

"Blessed be, Jamie O'Leary," said an old lady wearing a white veil over her hair. "We bid you welcome."

"He's not welcome," said another woman. "He led evil to our door."

"It wasn't intentional," Jamie said in his own defense, although it kind of was. He looked around. "Where are we?"

"A secure place," the old lady replied. "I am the High Priestess of this coven. You saved our sister. You also tempted her to break her vows."

"You mean to fight for her life?" Jamie sniped. "Those lads were coming through, one way or another, and you do know they're lackeys of the Cursed Ones, right?"

"We have taken a vow. All of us," the High Priestess said. She looked at Skye. "We have agreed to continue to fight by healing our wounded, providing information, and casting spells of protection. But not to directly harm. I know our path can be difficult. But as you can see, we're all safe and no one's been hurt."

"Not this time," Jamie argued. "But they'll keep coming until they get her. Am I right, Skye?"

Before Skye could answer, the old woman held up her hand. "And we will continue to protect her, as we have done. She is our sister."

"She's gonna be your dead sister." Jamie felt the rage building inside him. "I had a sister. Werewolves tore her apart while I was forced to stand by and do nothing. And I'm not going to twiddle my thumbs while Skye's in danger. And as long as those lads are breathing, she's in danger."

"Your way is not our way," the High Priestess said, and all the white robes nodded their heads in solemn agreement. "And only those who follow the code may remain here."

"I'm sorry," Skye said to him, cheeks scarlet.

Jamie's lips parted in complete, total shock. "So that's it, then? I risk my life to find my teammate and she's gonna stay and play the nun?" He scowled. "Just so you know, Skye, Heather's gone missing, Salamanca has been destroyed, and Eri is dead. Your place is with us, and we can't stand to lose anyone else."

As he spoke, he realized with a start that he wouldn't be heading off to Northern Ireland any time soon. His place was with the Salamancans too. He was devastated.

"She's . . . dead?" Skye whispered. "Eriko's dead?"

"Yeah, and she wouldn't-" He clamped his mouth shut. He was going to say that Eriko wouldn't be dead if only Skye had been there. It wasn't in his nature to pull his punches, but there was enough going on at the moment.

"Skye York has given up her warlike ways," said the High Priestess. "She's been welcomed back into the fold of White magick. Her spells and incantations will heal the Earth, and stop the hatred between humanity and the vampires."

"Dream on, sister!" Jamie shouted. "Oh, Skye, Skye, you can't believe this drivel!"

"High Priestess," the ginger-haired girl began.

"Be quiet, Soleil," the High Priestess said.

There was a long silence. Then Skye glanced at the girl named Soleil and the dye job, and Jamie realized that the two were holding her up and supporting her, instead of restraining her.

Skye cleared her throat. "I want to believe this 'drivel,'" she said, and the High Priestess nodded encouragingly at her. "But I also know that he will stop at nothing until he finds me. And I believe that sometimes you have to take a stand, and that to protect you must attack. And so . . ." She lowered her head and sank to her knees. "I'd better leave with Jamie."

There was a murmur of shock through the coven. The High Priestess's forehead creased, and she pursed her lips.

"Think this through," the High Priestess said. "If you walk out that door, we'll cast you out, and none of us will call you sister ever again."

Skye gasped as if the old b.i.t.c.h had punched her in the stomach. The other witches muttered darkly as his teammate lifted the voluminous robe over her head. Then she handed it to the High Priestess with two shaky hands, and the old git took it without so much as a by-your-leave. Stared straight ahead like the cold-hearted statue she was.

Soleil and Dye Job made motions as if to remove their robes, but Skye laid a hand on each of them. "Soleil, Lune, this is my path, not yours," she whispered, voice raw with emotion.

Soleil started to cry. Lune shook her head and mouthed the words "no, Skye, please." Farther back in the room, Farrah bit her lower lip and made circular motions with her hands. That got her a dirty look from the witch beside her, and Farrah lowered her hands to her sides with an air of defeat.

"Right, then," Jamie said firmly. "Let's go. There's lots of people waiting to hear that you're found."

The two walked toward the door. Skye was all hangdog, her shoulders round, her head bowed. Whipped she was, by the ones who'd called her sister.

"We ostracize you!" the High Priestess cried. "So mote it be!"

"So mote it be!" the witches cried.