Maven groaned as the beeping receiver woke her up. She rolled to her side and threw her pillow at the far wall of the officers’ quarters at the sound. It did no good. The beeping continued.

Darius rubbed his temple’s and let out an exhausted sigh. His head hurt, the same way it always did when he exerted himself.

Abigail searched the area surrounding the old mining town, and it didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for: a hidden entrance at the top of a waterfall leading underground. It was covered by a number of huge stones, and it took them a good thirty minutes to clear the area.

“What is the meaning of this?” Captain Queston asked, settling back into his chair and glaring at the monitor. On the other end was Captain Emilio Finch, traitor, and turncoat to the Republic. “You would dare stop my ships?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I just…when I was walking toward the demon, something told me it wouldn’t hurt me.” “A guess?” “A feeling,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t explain it.”

When morning came, Quinton prepared them a meal of vitamin-enriched oatmeal and a loaf of stale bread. Vivian found the food distasteful, but once again Traq devoured his—and her—helping like a starving child.

Haatim pulled off to the side of the road about half a mile outside the city. He kept the car idling, divided by the raging emotions inside his heart and mind.

“Who? The duke?” “Uh-huh,” she said, looking worried.  “Does that mean I’m a demon worshipper?”

“I’ll kill you when I find you, you little bastard!” Petro Marok sat in the shadows of his alley hiding place, nursing his bruised hand and sobbing. He was low to the ground, hidden behind the butcher’s shop, tucked out of sight and forgotten.