Gabriel woke with a gasp, his heart slamming against his ribs.

"Hush. You're home."

He blinked at Jeremiah, startled. "Home? Homestead?"

"Yes."

He let his Brother lay him back on the bed and smooth his hair. "How?"

"You were wandering the woods. You must have been so worn out you couldn't tell which way was true."

He tried, desperately, to remember...anything. There was nothing clear after the arrow stopped a Darkling's attempt to drink ....

"Thomas." Gabriel sat up again, too agitated to lie still.

"He is alive, Brother."

He closed his eyes. "Was I too late?"

"There is no Taint upon him," Jeremiah assured him. "He has a cut across his face and bruising to his throat, but they did not drink of him."

"And me?"

Jeremiah held his eyes. "You are as Pure as you've always been."

Gabriel fell back into the pillows, drawing a shuddering breath. "You came back for us," he realized.

Jeremiah perched on the edge of the bed. He pulled up a light blanket and smoothed it across Gabriel's bare chest. "I came back for you," he admitted. "That you had Thomas was incidental. I am not ashamed of that. You saved us all. He would have led us into a slaughter."

Gabriel rolled his head on the pillow. "I don't remember anything. I don't know how I stopped three Darklings, Jeremiah. I passed out, and then I was...mounted. I...don't know if I'm...Untainted."

"There is no mark anywhere on you, Gabriel. They didn't touch you."

"They don't have to touch us to Taint us." Tears slipped from his eyes, running into his hair. "I can't have battled and defeated them all and have no sign of it on me. I can't have."

Jeremiah leaned close. "When I found you, you were out of your mind with exhaustion. Your bow was strung and the quiver was nearly empty. You are the fastest, most accurate bowman in the Order."

He let that knowledge sink in a moment. "No one doubts you fought and won, Gabriel. Even from a distance, victory is a victory. God spared you before. Why can't He spare you again?"

Gabriel grasped the kernel of hope springing to life in his heart. "Can one be so fortunate?"

"You are."

It would have to be enough, Gabriel decided. He let go of the fear he carried since coming to himself on Thomas's horse. Jeremiah would tell him the truth. The Fathers would have him confined in one of the Towers, to burn in the sunlight. No one even suspected of being Tainted was allowed to remain within the walls of Homestead. Most went to the Towers willingly. He knew he would.

***

Perched in one of the many towering oaks surrounding the castle, Kaspar had the black tome open on his knees. The dappling of sunlight that came through the leaves revealed the scrolling words on the pages. The silver edging burned his fingers but left no marks on his skin. The sun was warm, not comfortable, but not dangerous. He felt no fear, and he felt no need for sleep. He would rest when his quarry rested.

Finding the Hunter searching in the forests was fortunate indeed. The image of the place called Homestead was blurred in his Hunter's mind. The way back was crossed with alternate paths. Finding the right one took more time than he thought it would. Spotting the white-cloaked figure crawling with his nose nearly in the dirt was as close to a blessing as his kind could wish for. All it took was sending the horses toward him. He knew he lay in a small room on the north side of the building.

Taj's blood gave him so many new skills, he kept surprising himself. He watched his Hunter be carried within and wished he could follow undetected, simply to see where they laid him. A blink later he was there, gliding along silently, following the corridors until a door was thrown open. Within a heartbeat, his senses returned to him, and he was still sitting here, roosting like a vulture. The image made his lips twitch. To compare himself to a carrion eater was low praise indeed. With a sigh, he returned to the book, shifting to bring more light onto the page. He only skimmed the first page. It listed the names of people he presumed assisted in creating the book. He flipped through a few pages and stopped cold when a line of text caught his eye.

To these Chosen, we give our Blood Bond. They guard and defend as we sleep. They ease our thirst. The Chosen keep secret our resting places and destroy any who dare to betray the Trust.

He read the passage again. Breathless, he flipped back to the beginning of the book and read every word with greater care.

***

Myka sat in his chamber, casting his gaze at the wide expanse afforded by the tower's height. He could see several fathoms out on a clear day. He often sat here and watched the goings-on below. Only a few ever made the climb to see him, and most he didn't care to see. He sipped a special blend of tea; the leaves grew on the roof of this tower. Behind him, Daniel ranted at him for allowing Jeremiah to ride out.

"How dare you interfere! I was interrogating him-"

"He committed no crime," Myka put in softly, stopping the tirade.

But only for a moment. "He abandoned two of his team members and failed to complete the mission."

"The absence of that posturing cock, Thomas, would be an improvement to the ranks. I daresay few –if any- would miss him."

Daniel stared open-mouthed at him. He leaned forward to refill his tea. 

"Jeremiah 'abandoned' no one. Gabriel chose to go back for your pet. Both boys are alive and in relatively good health. You are overset because I set foot in your precious Church."

Daniel snarled at him. "A wonder you didn't burst into flame in the presence of God."

Myka lifted a sable brow at the other man as he added a spoon of honey to his tea. "God doesn't live there. No matter how hard you preach it, it will never be so."

"Heretic!" Daniel hissed. "Blasphemer! Tainted!!"

A cold smile lifted the corner of Myka's mouth. "Betrayer."

Daniel gasped.

"Oath Breaker," Myka mouthed very carefully. Rage flared from his rich dark brown eyes, turning them to molten gold.

Shaking in fury, Daniel turned on his heel and slammed out of the rounded room.

Myka drew a deep breath and talked himself intostaying in his chair to finish his tea. Killing that fool now would not servehis purpose.