Blue Ridge: Vol. 2 - The Search by Sophia Gray Page A

of the veil. He thought about Nadia and said a silent prayer for her safety, and her sanity. He hoped she wasn’t too afraid. He shut his door quietly and stood at the top of the stairs listening for the others. He didn’t want them to know what he was planning to do. It was forbidden for a person of mixed race to enter the realm alone before their twenty-one. Even after that, certain races, the ones considered more dangerous, were only allowed to enter accompanied by a member of the Fae or Sidhe. A member of the Sidhe currently ruled the Realm with an iron fist. Foster wasn’t sure why any other race would be considered more dangerous than one of the Sidhe. They were as cold and ruthless as they were beautiful.
     
    Foster walked silently down the steps and peered on either side of the open staircase as soon as he was far enough to see into the living room and dining area. He would just have to hope no one was lurking in the kitchen area or near the glass doors. The rooms were dark except for the flickering lights of a few dying candles. His mother loved candlelight and would burn several tall ones in the massive fireplace when it was too warm to light a fire.
     
    Foster tip toed to the front door and turned the knob. A voice spoke from the darkened kitchen; the words velvet and steel.
     
    “Where do you think you’re going?”
     
    Stefan . He was the uncle from the abyss, who only showed up in emergencies, and who appeared out of what seemed like thin air if a fight was brewing. He constantly itched for a fight. Yet, Foster could not completely dislike him. He was the only member of his father’s family that kept contact after he married a mixed breed of the Fae.
     
    Foster turned slowly and allowed his shoulders to slump in what appeared to be defeat. It was the same with a pack of wolves. Always show submission to an Alpha. “Stefan. Good to see you.”
     
    His uncle stepped forward and lit a cigarette. The light illuminated his features for just a moment and Foster was surprised to see the lines of age beginning to show. Stefan was only ten mortal years older than his own father. Would Derrick show age soon as well?
     
    Stefan slowly moved his hand back and forth, putting the match out. “You aren’t really glad to see me, now are you?”
     
    “I prefer you don’t meddle in this. I assume Dain or Father called you.”
     
    “You assume correctly. It was your father. He called two days ago.”
     
    “Why? There is nothing wrong here.”
     
    Stefan regarded him coolly. “Right. You broke the rules, Foster. It has caused quite a bit to be wrong .” He let the last word drip from his lips like poison. “No one from any of the ancient races can become involved with a mortal. You know this.”
     
    Foster felt the anger rising again. Alpha or no alpha; he was tired of these games. “That’s funny, because I thought that your kind depended on the involvement of mortals. It would be like some kind of Euthanasia to deny your selves that.”
     
    Stefan laughed out loud. “We are supposed to reproduce with other Nephilim, but alas sometimes mortal women are just too much for us,” he said giving Foster a sly look, “and sometimes the Fae as well.”
     
    Foster wanted nothing more at that moment than to stab his uncle to death. Instead he calmly replied, “Exactly when is the Council’s posse going to lynch Dain?”
     
    He snickered and reached out to slap Foster on the shoulder. “Dain only messed up locally once. It’s ancient history.”
     
    “Where’s everyone at?”
     
    Stefan opened the front door and flicked the butt of his cigarette outside. “The barn.”
     
    “Mother too?”
     
    Stefan nodded and Foster dropped his bag, bouncing out the front door and down the front steps before he could be stopped. Foster ignored his uncle’s protests and kept walking. Stefan took several long strides and walked behind him. The barn was lit by several oil burning lanterns, even though there was