But when she felt the air around her move, Brannie had to grudgingly admit her mother was right. Because she should have realized something was wrong long before her attackers were in the room.

Brannie jerked back and the head of an ax landed on her pillow. She struck out with her fist, knocking her assailant back.

By the time she got to her feet, Aidan was up as well. He grabbed his weapon and tossed her the special weapon Rhona had given her. It quickly extended into a spear and Brannie blocked another blow from her attacker.

It was a male, dressed all in black with no armor or chain mail.

She twisted her spear in an attempt to get the blade from him, but he moved with her weapon and kept his grip. He struck again. Fast. Brannie blocked the strike with her forearm, shortened her spear to fit in the small room, and drove it up through his chin and into his head.

She yanked it out, turned, and cut the throat of the man behind her.

Aidan had three bodies at his feet and was moving across the room to grab their things.

“Get Keita and the others,” she ordered him.

He tossed her chain mail to her. “What are you going to do?”

Brannie quickly tugged on the leggings and carried the rest to the balcony. A small group of witches were surrounded by at least twenty of the killers dressed in black.

Without answering Aidan, she jumped over the railing and landed in the middle of the fight.

“Help my friends,” she told the witches. “Including the Riders.”

“And you, Captain?” one of the witches asked.

Brannie lowered her head and the spear in her hand thickened, extended to twice its length with a pointed blade on each end.

She swung the weapon, cutting across several throats.

The killers attacked and the witches ran, leaving Brannie on her own.

* * *

Aidan kicked open the doors to his friends’ rooms.

“Move!” he bellowed.

And they did, jumping from their beds and grabbing their weapons and travel bags.

They were both already dressed, having dropped on their beds fully clothed.

They came out of their rooms, weapons raised. They were awake and alert. Ready for battle. Just as they’d been trained.

“Keita.”

They went down the hall to Keita’s room but it was empty. There were, however, a number of assassin bodies littering her floor.

“Outside,” Aidan barked, and they moved.

They passed enemies along the way and executed them quickly and cleanly. Not wasting time with anything fancy or fun.

When they arrived on the first floor, they went out the front door—and froze on the top step.

Mouths open, Aidan and his brothers watched the legion of fighters marching toward them from the beach.

“Did you call them here?” he asked the witch closest to him.

“We did not.”