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want to know where he is,” Quinton said. “The bastard who sold these bomb parts is responsible for all these deaths. And he’s going down when I find him.”

E ERIE , T ENNESSEE

    Vincent Valtrez clenched his jaw at the sight of the vulture perched on the edge of the windowsill. The bird of prey dipped its bald head and began to clean its feathers, licking pieces of carrion from its black wings. Then it lifted its beak and pierced Valtrez with its insidious eyes as if gloating over a victory.
    Legend had it that a vulture’s appearance meant death.
    He cursed as a sharp wind rattled the panes and made the tree branches scrape the glass. The arrival of All Hallows’ Eve had definitely brought in evil with a bang.
    Vincent closed his eyes to the horror of the news footage scrolling across the TV screen. Clarissa had warned him earlier that something horrible was about to happen.
    She had been right.
    And in Savannah, Georgia, the town where he’d just learned one of his brothers lived. Quinton. Another Dark Lord.
    Coincidence or not?
    He didn’t think so.
    God, he hadn’t even known he had brothers until recently. Until his dead mother had told him.
    According to his information, Quinton worked for Homeland Security.
    But he also belonged to a secret unit, one that the government would deny any knowledge of.
    Quinton was a cold-blooded assassin. A Ghost who killed for hire. He’d been a trained sniper in the military. And he had continued carrying out vigilante killings ever since.
    Quinton probably had no idea he even existed.
    He had to set up a meeting. But he’d have to be careful.
    His gaze veered to the seemingly endless footage of the dead. A ghostly gray mingled with the smoky haze, a gray he now recognized from his wife Clarissa’s insight as spirits, Soul Collectors, who’d descended upon the refuse of bodies to offer immortality to the lost souls who lingered in shock over their sudden demise.
    Was Zion responsible? Was his father rejoicing in the mass destruction and the number of soldiers he’d gained from the weak who traded their souls and joined him?
    Clarissa moved up behind him and slid her arms around his waist. She fed his soul with her goodness, kept his dark side at bay with her tender loving.
    Kept him satisfied in bed as he’d never expected.
    For he craved sex constantly. And she never failed him. He would never grow tired of having his hands on her breasts, her flesh against his, her heat milking his cock.
    “There are demons everywhere,” she said in a low voice. “They slipped through the portal last night. I heard the cries of the lost souls as they struggled over immortality.”
    He nodded, fear making him edgy. Painful emotions that he still had trouble dealing with bombarded him.
    Feelings he hadn’t wanted any more than he’d wanted to fall in love with Clarissa. But he had, dammit.
    Each night the black holes clawed at him. He heard the whisper of evil in the death-scented air, the footsteps of the demons clamoring to steal innocents, the screams of those who tried to escape but failed. The joyous cries of others as they broke through the gate barring their entrance to the mortal world to wreak destruction.
    “I’m going to contact Quinton.” He leaned forward with a sigh. “If he had something to do with those deaths…”
    She stroked the tension from his shoulders. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Vincent. Hear him out. Another demon might be responsible.”
    He nodded. “True. All the more reason he needs to know about our parents.”
    And their destiny.
    But if Quinton had lost himself to the dark side as their father had, blood wouldn’t matter.
    Vincent would have to destroy him.

T HE K EYS : N OVEMBER 1

    Sweat trickled down Quinton’s back as he aimed the M24 sniper rifle at his target, but he ignored the moisture as well as the insects buzzing around his mud-covered face.
    Years of honing his concentration paid off on a mission like this. Nothing could