Once more, it did nothing but ring and then go to voice mail. Charon shoved the phone into his pocket and let the drops of rain pelt him. “He’s fine,” Arran said above the roar of the storm. “He better be.” Charon didn’t want to think about Wallace getting his hands on Phelan. Ian clamped a hand on Charon’s shoulder. “Phelan is smart and cagey. He’ll be here.” They had been standing in the rain for almost an hour surveying the landscape. Charon pointed out where he wanted to box Wallace in, and then showed them the two places in the valley that could be potential problems. Charon was torn in his worry over his friend and his concern for Laura. She hadn’t been in a battle before. She didn’t know what it was like to face black magic. Or any magic, for that matter. How could he concentrate on doing his part in the battle if he was fretting about her? Because if something happened to her, Charon would never forgive himself. “It’s hell,” Logan said as he walked up.
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