Free Dark Victory by Brenda Joyce Page B

now.”
    “It will cause hysteria,” Sam said, heading for the door. “We have to find him before one of the vigilante gangs does.”
    Normally, Nick didn’t mind the dozens of violent vigilante gangs in the city. They were no match for the demons, but they sure as hell helped the war effort—even though their activities were against the law. CDA, the cops and the Feds all looked the other way.
    He wasn’t looking the other way now.
    The Highlander was wounded—and from all accounts, on the run. He needed their protection. “Let’s go find the holy warrior,” he said. “And see if we can help our medieval friend.”
     
    H ER NEWSPAPER TUCKED under her arm—she usually glanced at the front page in the teachers’ lounge when her class was in fifth-period music—Tabby walked into the school where she taught first grade. She greeted a half-dozen other teachers as she strolled toward her classroom, still trying to get focused on the day to come. She loved children and she loved being an elementary-school teacher, especially in public school, where many of the kids so needed direction andguidance. But she’d slept badly last night. Her dreams had been anxious and stressful—they’d all been about the dark Highlander.
    She’d awoken with the certainty that he was in trouble, more so than ever, and that he needed her.
    One strange visit to the Met and her life had changed so quickly, she thought.
    And something was up. Sam hadn’t come home that morning. She worked at night—evil played after dark and hid in the daylight. But she was usually home at sunrise. Tabby knew she should assume whatever Sam was doing was routine, but her senses were telling her otherwise. Something was happening, and she wished she knew what.
    Tabby entered her classroom and some of her anxiety vanished. The room’s walls were covered with the kids’ cheerful and colorful paintings and pictures, their latest spelling assignments, and maps of the city, the state and the country, with important landmarks flagged. Some articles they’d discussed from newspapers and magazines were also taped to the walls.
    She always had a really good vibe when coming to class, and that hadn’t changed. First period was current events, so Tabby laid her copy of USA Today down on her desk, and with it, the article she’d clipped for the kids from the New York Times.
    She glimpsed the paper’s headline and cried out.
    Sword Murderer Threatens City. Tabby sank into her chair, scanning the article, somehow already knowing what she was going to find. A man dressed in a medieval Highland costume had murdered a man in Tribeca last night. He had escaped the authorities, but he was wounded, armed and dangerous.
    Tabby began to shake. He was in the city, and he was hurt.
    She closed her eyes and whispered, “I can help you.”
    Come to me, she thought, straining for him. Come to me.
    “Hello,” a cheerful voice called to her.
    For one moment, Tabby was so focused that she heard the woman but couldn’t move or open her eyes. Then the woman spoke again and Tabby came back to the present.
    She got up, drenched with perspiration, and faced a woman she had never seen before. The woman had very fair skin and hair, and she was wearing a beige suit that gave her an oddly bland appearance. “Are you okay?” the woman asked.
    “I’m fine—I was lost in thought,” Tabby said, aware that she’d spoken the truth.
    “I’m filling in for Marlene, and I just wanted to pop in and introduce myself,” the woman said, smiling. “I’m Kristin Lafarge.”
    Marlene was vice principal, and she was on maternity leave. Tabby smiled in return, walking forward so they could shake hands. “Hi. I’m Tabby Rose, although you probably already know that.”
    “I do,” she said pleasantly. “And I’ve heard great things about this school. I’m looking forward to my time here.”
    “It’s a great faculty and a great group of kids, for the most part,” Tabby said.
    Kristin