Dageus tsked mockingly. Though he couldn’t understand their language and didn’t know what the Draghar’s intentions were, Simon didn’t know that. Sowing doubts could be a useful weapon. If he could keep him talking long enough, mayhap enough of the drug’s effects would pass that he could risk probing Simon’s mind. “They want bodies, Simon, and they will have the power to return to their own. Once you release them, how will you stop them from going back? You won’t be able to control them. They may destroy your Order the moment I change. What use have they for you? They’ll return to their century, keep the war from happening, and utterly rewrite the past four thousand years of history.” Dageus laughed. “Like as not, none of us will ever even be born by the time they’re done changing things.”

Och, aye, the men in the room looked decidedly uneasy. Uneasy was good. Violent dissension would be even better.

“You’ll be releasing a power that you can’t possibly begin to understand and have no hope of mastering.” Dageus gave him a chilling smile.

After a tense silence, Simon waved a dismissive hand. “Enough. I am not going to fall for your ruse. The Draghar would not try to return because they would run the risk of being imprisoned again. They will never risk that.”

“So you say, when in truth, you know nothing about them. I do.”

Simon’s jaw set and he motioned to two of the men standing nearby. “I will not be swayed from the course of the Prophecy. It is my sworn duty to fulfill it. And I may not know as much about the Draghar as I’d like, but I do know much about you.” He glanced at the men. “Bring her,” he ordered.

The men hastened from the chamber.

Dageus went rigid. Her—who? he nearly roared. There was no way, he told himself. Chloe was safe and sleeping within the castle’s warded walls.

He was so very wrong.

When they returned a few moments later, his gut clenched. “Nay,” he whispered, lips scarce moving. “Och, nay, lass.”

“Och, aye, Keltar,” Simon mocked. “A lovely woman, isn’t she? We tried to get to her in Manhattan. But fear not, you may have all of her you want once you’ve yielded to the inevitable. I suspect the Draghar will be hungry for a woman after four thousand years.”

The men roughly half-dragged, half-carried Chloe forward. Her hands and feet were bound and her face ashen, streaked with tears.

“I’m so sorry, Dageus,” she gasped. “I woke up when I heard the car door slam and ran outside, trying to catch you—”