Master of the Shadows by Lynn Viehl

worthless now. There was no hope of completing her mission unless she returned to the city, found Locksley, and retrieved the book. She would have to use Will one last time.
    But to leave Rosethorn under siege…
    What the Italians and the English did to one another was not her concern, her father would say. These were matters in which they did not become involved. Their duty was to the mortal world, and the threat to innocent lives.
    The scent of clover teased her nose.
    Slowly she pushed herself up from the floor and silently followed the sweet fragrance, which led her to a third and final set of stairs, these concealed behind a large group of crates. They inclined sharply down to a single, dark tunnel.
    This one, Reese knew, had been built under Locksley’s land, and would likely be more than a mile in length. It had not been in the building plans, but Father had assured her it would be there.
    “After the jardin wars, they always installed an escape tunnel,” he told her. “It will be at the lowest point of the stronghold. If something goes wrong, find it and it will lead you to a vehicle you may use.”
    As Reese entered the tunnel, she saw the glimmer of electric torches and smelled other scents blending with that of the clover. The women, she realized, had escaped the house, and even now were hurrying toward freedom.
    And Rebecca, who had been so kind to her, was leading them.
     
    Will worked quickly to manage the humans caught up in the attack on the gallery, aware as he did that Robin had deliberately revealed himself to Chris in order to separate her from the others. Will didn’t approve—unwitting or not, the meddling federal agent had provided both Guisbourne and the contessa with the perfect opportunity to rout his master—but he had no more say in the matter than he suspected she did.
    Once he had dealt with the police and the gallery patrons, he used his contacts in the Atlanta Police Department to complete the arrangements and obtain the location of the patrol unit that had taken Robin and Chris away. He took the limousine and caught up with them on a deserted stretch of highway just outside the city.
    Will saw Robin holding Chris, both of their garments disheveled, as the policeman escorting them walked back to his unit. He parked behind the patrol and got out.
    As he approached, Will saw how furious the mortal female was, and how determined his master looked.
    “How did you make him do that?” Chris was demanding.
    “I promise you, I shall explain everything when this is over.” Robin saw Will and turned to him. “Were you able to deal with all of them?”
    “I sent the police back on patrol; they were most obliging. Our friends in the department will see to any records. The guests are locked inside the building. They will sleep until dawn and have no memory of the attack. The ice should be melted by then, and then our friends will go around and finish tidying up.” He indicated Chris. “She is the only one left.”
    The mortal’s eyed narrowed. “You’re not drugging me.” She fought against Robin’s grasp.
    “Tell me his name,” Robin said, “and I shall release you.”
    So she had been a part of this plot. “Let me have her, my lord,” Will said, removing one of his blades. “She will tell me what you wish to know.”
    Chris eyed Will’s dagger and then addressed his master. “His name was Paul Sherwood. Now let go of me.”
    “I said I would release you,” Robin advised her. “I did not say I would do it now.” As she began writhing against him, he said to Will, “Be aware that l’attrait has no affect on her whatsoever. I am none too sure that our talent does, either.”
    “I could kill her,” he offered. “That would solve the problem.”
    Robin frowned at him and then saw Chris’s expression. “He is only joking,” he told her. To Will, he said, “Take us back to the penthouse.”
    On the journey back to the Armstrong building, Will kept the divider window down