Chapter 1 PRESENT DAY--ENGLAND "YOUR TIMING BLOODY SUCKS," Simon Northam, Duke of Hurstgrove, said as his boots crunched on the snowy field. Charred ruins rose like specters in the foggy distance. Fat gray clouds and evening mist promised more bad weather. "Tell that to Mathias." Bram Rion brushed back his tawny wind-blown hair. "True," Duke, as Simon preferred to be called, conceded. There was no convenient time for Mathias d'Arc to attack Bram's home. But weeks ago, he and his Anarki army had descended on Bram's residence in the hopes of eradicating the Doomsday Brethren, a group of wizards devoted to ridding magickind of the evil sorcerer and his minions. Mathias preached equality to the Deprived class of magickind, but it was a ruse. He dealt in torture, plunder, and murder--all for ill-gotten power. The attack had nearly taken Bram, the Doomsday Brethren's leader, and the rest of the warriors by surprise. They'd barely escaped, and had been forced to abandon the house--their headquarters--to stay alive. Now, Bram had gathered Duke and two other warriors together at the estate's remains. Duke dreaded sifting through the piles of blackened stone, plaster, and brick scattered among so many discarded personal effects. It looked like the aftermath of a natural disaster. But there'd been nothing natural about this. "You're missing my point." Duke raised a brow at Bram. "Today is