Then, the Draghar would walk the earth again. Then, all the power, all the knowledge the Tuatha Dé Danaan had stolen from them millennia ago would be restored. The Draghar would teach them the Voice of Power that brought death with a mere word, and the secret ways to move through time. When their numbers were many and strong, they would hunt the Tuatha Dé Danaan and take what should have been theirs long ago. That which the Tuatha Dé Danaan had ever denied the Draghar: the secret of immortality. Eternal life, no chancy rebirth necessary.

They would be gods.

Trevor studied the woman intently. Tiny little bit, she was, and he wondered how Giles had ended up going over that terrace. Had it been by choice? Had Dageus MacKeltar thrown him off? Surely the small female hadn’t done it. She didn’t amount to much. Barely topped five feet.

The Scot towered over her. The Draghar had been given a mighty vessel, his form strong, that of a warrior. Men would respond well to his innate authority. Even as Trevor thought that, he noted how the crowds parted for him, instinctively moving out of his way, and he strode as if he knew they would. No hesitation in the man, none whatsoever. Even from his safe distance, he could feel the power rolling off him.

When the Scot glanced down at the woman, Trevor’s eyes narrowed.

Possessiveness in his gaze. Protectiveness in the way he shielded her body from passersby, his intent gaze constantly scrutinizing his surroundings. Simon would not be pleased.

Before Trevor had found his calling in the Order, he’d run the con, quite successfully, and the cardinal rule of such business applied here: isolate the mark; the quarry falls faster alone.

He paced them, at a cautious distance.

They paused outside a bank and Trevor glided closer, dropped a few coins and bent to scoop them up. Listening, to see if he could overhear any conversation.

And finally he heard what he needed; they were planning to fly out to Scotland some time this evening.

He melted back into a small cluster of pedestrians and slipped out a cell phone. It would be a simple matter to have one of his computer-savvy brethren find out from which airport and when, and book him on the flight as well.

Speaking swiftly, he filled Simon in.

And Simon’s instructions were precisely what he expected.

Hours later, Trevor slid into a seat a dozen rows behind them. He would have preferred to sit nearer, but the flight wasn’t full, and he worried that the Scot might spot him.