The flight to London was short, though it took him several frustrating hours to locate The Belthew Building. He’d not been in London before, with the exception of the airport, and it was confusing to him. He stood outside the unlit building for some time, studying it from back, front, and all sides. It was a large warehouse constructed of stone and steel, with four floors, but from what Trevor had confessed, that which he sought would be found belowground.

He took slow, even breaths of the chill, foggy night air. Moving briskly, silently, he approached the building and worked the lock with a softly murmured phrase. That made twice today that he’d used magic, and he dare use it only sparingly henceforth.

Even now the beings within him were stirring. He could sense them reaching out, as if trying to fathom their surroundings.

He opened the door and slipped partly in, punching the code into the keypad. He was prepared; he had lifted all the knowledge he needed from Trevor’s mind and committed it to memory. He knew every sequence of numbers, every alarm to circumvent, every passkey.

Stepping across the threshold, he felt a sudden pinching pain in his chest, deep in a ridge of muscle. He shrugged his shoulder, trying to work the kink out, but it didn’t go away and, bemused, he glanced down.

For a moment the sight of the silver dart quivering in his chest simply baffled him. Then his vision swam alarmingly and narrowed to a dim tunnel. Blinking, he stared into the dark room.

“A tranquilizer,” a cultured voice informed him politely.

A few moments later, cursing viciously, Dageus crashed to the floor.

He roused—he had no idea how long later—to the sensation of cool stone against his back. As his drug-induced stupor receded slowly, he became aware that he was securely restrained.

He felt strange, but was unable to pinpoint exactly what it was. Something was different inside him. Mayhap the lingering effects of the tranquilizer, he decided.

Without opening his eyes, he flexed minutely, testing his bonds. He was chained to a stone column several feet in diameter. Thick-linked chains bound his arms behind him, around the column’s circumference. His ankles were chained together as well, bound again to the base of the column. Without calling upon magic, he could move naught but his head.

Keeping his eyes closed, he listened, noting the different voices that spoke over the next few moments, tallying the numbers of his enemy. Half a dozen, no more. Had they not drugged him, they would never have taken him, and if he could get free, he would have no problem escaping. He reached out with his Druid senses, testing the strength of the chains.