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carrying on. Was the owl still out there or did the horse see a coyote, bobcat, or rattlesnake?
    He slipped on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and cowboy boots, picked up his Colt .45 and walked outside on the porch. The gun was more for nostalgia from his Gold Rush days than a weapon. A man back then had to protect his land and belongings. But if there was a predator after his horses he’d chase it off. Mostly he used the gun for target practice now. He stuffed it in his waistband and peered into the darkness.
    The desert night was clear, stars shimmered brilliantly against the ebony sky. The dim light from a moon, half full, cast shadows across his yard and corral. The two horses, with ears pinned back, snorted as he approached. Skittish as usual, especially when he came too close.
    When he reached the gate, they circled the corral, tossing their heads. “What has you two so spooked?” They were usually quiet at night. Unless an animal or snake was near the corral. Dante scanned the area, sniffed the air with his heightened senses. Beyond his ranch, was nothing more than miles and miles of red-earth desert. He smelled creosote bushes, pinesap from the cypress trees and the musky scent of his two horses, but no predators. No sign of the owl. A knot twisted inside his gut. Maybe the horses were afraid of him, goddammit.
    After he was satisfied that no predators were around, Dante strode back to his cabin, kicking a post on his way onto his porch. It was him. The horses had sensed his collection of chi. That was why they were riled up.
    Pulling up a wooden deck chair, he plopped down and rested his feet up on the railing, then slipped the gun under the chair. In a couple hours it would be dawn. Sleep would do Haley good and help replenish her energy. By morning she might remember a sexy dream, or a fantasy. He wasn’t sure if she’d remember their lovemaking.
    A creak on a deck board made him freeze. The log cabin was old. He knew every creak and moan. The sound came from the weight of heavy footsteps around the side of the wraparound porch.
    Slowly, Dante reached under his chair and picked up the .45 and cocked the gun.
    Another creak. Darkness engulfed the porch, but he could see with his demon vision. What about the intruder’s sight? The gun was on Dante’s lap, but the business end pointed in the direction of the sound.
    A shadow moved around the corner and stopped. “If you’re going to shoot, go ahead on. It could be interesting.”
    Valdon. Dante released the trigger and clicked the safety back on. “You almost got a first-hand demo, Valdon. What the hell are you doing here?” He stood to greet the senior Drone.
    “I’m here to give you a message from the demoness.” Valdon’s form was menacing in the dark. He was a few inches over six feet, broad and solid with long blond hair. “The demoness is growing impatient. She wants you and your horses on Anartia as soon as possible.”
    “But I have two weeks to prepare them for the journey.”
    Valdon dragged over a chair and sat. His hair hung down his back in a ponytail. “Can I see them?” A woman appeared from around the corner of the cabin.
    “Natesa? I can’t believe you’re here.” He couldn’t believe Gwyllain would part with her private slaves and singer. Natesa’s singing was one of the few things the demoness indulged in between offerings. She was sleek and tall with exotic features, brunette hair and dark, seductive eyes.
    Natesa smiled. “Gwyllain is getting desperate when she allows her favorite slaves to become Drones.”
    “Tarik will enjoy taking your offering,” Valdon fumed. “How does the demoness like that?” Jealousy seemed so unlike Valdon. Sitting on the porch railing, Dante watched them both closely. He didn’t trust either of them.
    She shot Valdon a hard, cold look. “I have to expel my offering in the laboratory.”
    Dante laughed. “Then the demoness does know about you two.”
    Natesa ignored him. “It’s worth it. I