Wicked Fantasy (38 page)

The force of Sean's attack drove Conall back even as he realized what that strange feeling had been.
You're in a world of shit, O'Rourke.
The bitch goddess had double-crossed him.

He was really human. And unless he came up with something fast, he was soon to be really dead.

Morrigan and Sean had been lovers. A man might not recognize the signs, but a woman always would. It was there in the way Morrigan had said his name and the expression on Sean's face when he'd spoken to her. Gerry figured that could only be bad news for Conall.

And as he crossed swords with Sean, her worst fears were realized. Conall was a powerful man, but Sean beat back Conall's attacks with ease while the demon slowly forced him to retreat.

She watched horrified as Sean's sword sliced across Conall's arm, drawing first blood.

“Doesn't seem too fair, does it? Morrigan knew a human couldn't take out a demon.” Ganymede plunked his ample bottom on the toe of her shoe. “Makes you want to cheat right back at her. Too bad the rest of us promised Conall we wouldn't interfere.” He peered up at her from sly amber eyes. “Did
you
promise?”

“No.” Rage heated her blood. She felt the slide of her fangs.

“There you go.” Ganymede sounded as though everything was perfectly clear now. “I'd say a human and a newbie vampire against one demon makes things pretty even.” He glanced at the buffet. “I'm in love. I want to marry the cheesecake.”

“What about Morrigan?” If Gerry had the power, Morrigan would be a dead goddess. She winced when Sean drew blood again, but this time Conall sliced across the demon's stomach, drawing a scream of fury from him.

“I'll pad on over to the goddess and sit beside her for a while. I guarantee she won't meddle in the battle.” Ganymede stood and stretched. “I promised not to help Conall fight the demon. I never said I wouldn't sit next to Morrigan and jam her power cells for a little while.”

Gerry didn't even see Ganymede leave as she crouched and began to stalk Sean. The babble of vampire voices rose higher and higher. Probably betting on the winner. Too bad they didn't know a wild card was about to mess up their bets.

She was so close now she could hear what Conall and Sean were saying. Sean never noticed her. Eric must still be in the demon's mind.

Sean's eyes glowed with bloodlust and triumph. “This is the way it should've ended eight hundred years ago. I've had all those years to think about how it would feel when I killed you. I could've just shot you, but the sword is more personal. Now I get to look into your eyes as you die.”

“What happens if you fail, Sean?” Conall's words came in hard pants.

“I can't fail. I'm a demon, stupid. Poke me full of holes, but I won't die. Sure, it'll put a hurting on me, but I'll survive. One of my demonic perks.” He swung his sword and then laughed as Conall stumbled back.

“No, I mean what'll happen if you don't kill me?” Conall wasn't swinging his sword with enough strength to force Sean to retreat toward the hearth.

“Isn't going to happen. But if it did, I'd still be okay as long as I didn't go back to hell. Haven't been back since I got sprung as a demon. If I go back, I won't be let out again. I was supposed to check in five hundred years ago. The devil gets pissed when his demons mess with his schedule. Lucky for me, I'm not high enough on the ladder of evil to warrant a search party.” He was so busy talking that he let Conall slip under his guard.

Conall thrust hard, driving his sword into Sean's chest.

“Well, shit, that hurt.” Sean glanced at the wound and then up at Conall. “Give it up, O'Rourke. All you're doing is making me madder.”

Gerry watched the demon almost drive Conall to his knees with a blow. She could see Conall's fatigue, the growing heaviness of his sword arm. Time to go into action.

She glanced at Eric. He nodded. Okay, Mr. Sulfur Breath would be able to see her now. Time for the undead to rise and kick some demon ass. She launched herself at Sean.

The demon saw her at the last minute and leaped back in time to avoid the worst of her strike. She did leave two painful puncture wounds in his sword arm, though. Reminders of what a vampire's fangs could do.

Sean's eyes widened as he realized she wasn't dead, but he recovered nicely. “So now you need a woman to help you fight. You've gotten soft, O'Rourke.” For all his sneering, he looked wary.

Gerry didn't glance at Conall. He was bound to be ticked at her interfering. She could almost hear the sound of crumbling ego as she moved in on Sean.

“Conall and I are partners. We work together. I'd say this makes things a little more even. You're a coward, Great-times-ten-Granddaddy. You didn't have the guts to fight Conall when he was immortal. You're the rotten apple on my family tree, and it's time someone knocked you off your branch.” She chanced a quick glance toward Conall. “Sorry, this is a family thing.”

Surprisingly, she didn't read outrage or anger in Conall's expression. Nothing but grim determination.

She timed her next attack to follow right after Conall swung his sword. It was like a one-two punch.

“What's your point, vampire bitch? You can't kill me. Even if I don't get your man this time, I'll get him when you aren't around.” He backed up a few more steps.

Just keep on moving toward the fireplace, you bastard.
“Maybe it's about making you look like crap in front of all these people.”

Gerry was so busy talking she misjudged her distance from Sean, and he got her in the shoulder with the tip of his sword. Owie, owie, ouch. Good thing Conall was the warrior in the family, because she didn't do pain well.

When he saw the blood welling from her shoulder, Conall roared his rage and charged Sean, driving the demon back until he stood right in front of the open hearth. Now all they had to do was make Sean take that last step.

Sean wasn't into last steps. Fifteen minutes later, he was still going strong. “Tired, Conall? You're human now. You can't go on forever. And when you fall over from exhaustion, I'll knock your vampire bitch aside and skewer you. Her fangs can't compete with my sword.”

Conall didn't waste his breath in answering him. Gerry had enhanced everything, but Sean was right. If the demon wasn't armed, she'd have a chance, but he was an experienced swordsman. What to do? Her thoughts ran in panicked circles.

That's when she saw Jinx. He was wiggling his way across the mantel above the fireplace. A ruby ring circled his little green body. In a few seconds he'd be directly behind Sean and about a foot above the demon.

She locked gazes with the snake. A silent understanding passed between them.

Unfortunately, she took her attention off Sean just long enough for him to drive his blade deep into her thigh. The pain doubled her over.

Conall shouted his fury as he swung his sword with berserker rage. At the same time, Jinx dropped onto Sean's head.

Sean wasn't a snake person. Cursing, he lowered his sword arm and reached for the snake. Jinx being Jinx, he bit Sean's finger and held on.

Sean flapped his hand trying to make Jinx let go at the same time he stumbled back into the fireplace to avoid Conall's sword.

Before Sean could recover, Edge chanted the words that would open the portal to hell.

Gerry saw everything happen through a haze of pain. Jinx released the demon's finger, slipped to the floor, and slithered away. He'd lost the ring.

Suddenly, a bloodred vortex formed beneath Sean. Sounds of chaos rose from deep within the vortex. The demon screamed as he realized what was happening. The force of the vortex held him in place, though, when he tried to scramble out of the fireplace.

Ganymede didn't need any chanting. He crouched in front of the hearth and simply stared at Sean. As he met Ganymede's gaze, the demon's eyes widened in terror. Then the vortex sucked him down. His panicked shriek echoed distantly and then was gone.

Edge once again chanted, and the vortex disappeared.

Everyone in the great hall was silent for the moment it took to realize what had happened. Then everyone started talking at once.

Conall knelt in front of Gerry. “What can I do? Do you need Eric or Donna?” Fear for her shadowed his gaze.

Good. As long as he was worried about her, he wouldn't be working up a mad at her for interfering. “No. I'm fine. I'm already healing. It just really hurt.” Fine, so she was a wuss. “We still have a loose end to tie up.”

The loose end flapped her wings, rose into the air, and landed in front of them. Evidently Operation Tail Feathers was complete. “I'm reinstating the curse I removed. Consider yourself recursed, O'Rourke. I didn't even get a chance to reminisce about old times with Sean.”

Gerry glared at Morrigan. “You can't do that, you double-crossing old bitch.”

“Of course I can. I'm a goddess.” The crow's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “If you weren't such an insignificant nothing, I'd curse you, too. But you're not worth the effort.”

Conall seemed too involved with checking Gerry's body for wounds to understand the full horror of what Morrigan had done.

The hall had grown strangely still. Gerry was so wrapped up in hating Morrigan she hadn't noticed. She did now. Following everyone's gaze, she stared at the suit of armor that stood at the entrance to the great hall.

A cat sat atop the armor. Sleek and elegant, her spotted coat gleamed smoke-colored in the dim lighting. She watched them from almond-shaped, pale green eyes outlined in jet black.

Asima leaped onto the buffet table to mentally broadcast her exciting news.
“Bast, protector of cats and women, patron of sensual pleasure and secrets, and a superior goddess in every way”—
she shot Morrigan a vindictive glare
—“has honored you with her presence.”

Morrigan huffed. “Big deal.”

Gerry met Conall's gaze. He hid his emotions behind an expressionless mask. Well, she didn't care who saw the hope in her eyes. Could Bast force Morrigan to release Conall from the curse?

Bast leaped from the armor and seemed to flow toward them, all sinuous grace.

“Yo, beautiful mama, you make me forget my cheesecake.” High praise from Ganymede.

“You won't be forgetting it for long when I shove your leering face into it.” Sparkle making her intentions clear.

When Bast reached Conall, she looked up at him. “I've come to you in my cat form, Conall. Do you remember me?”

Conall's heartbeat quickened. So much of what he'd experienced during eight centuries had faded from his memory. But yes, he did remember this cat. “Egypt. Near the Nile. A lion.”

Bast nodded, clearly pleased. “You came upon a lion you thought was threatening me. Ignoring danger to yourself, you picked me up and escaped from the lion. That was a brave thing to do.”

Conall shook his head. “Not so brave. I was immortal. That was my only trip to Egypt. The Kavanaghs I protected didn't wander far from home.” His lips tipped up at the memory. “You made my visit memorable.”

“The lion was my sister, the goddess Sekhmet, and we were having a sibling disagreement. I wasn't really in danger, but that didn't lessen my appreciation for your act. You showed a caring nature, so I took an interest in your history.” She cast Morrigan an enigmatic glance.

Morrigan cocked her head. “What?”

“I don't like to interfere in the curses of other deities, but I think eight hundred years is long enough for any human to suffer. I want you to release Conall.” She cast Morrigan a dismissive look. “Oh, and you really need to find another hairdresser.”

“No. My curse, my decision.” Morrigan wore her stubborn-crow face.

Bast sighed. “I so hoped you'd see reason.” Without warning, the elegant and possibly even gentle goddess morphed into Evil Cat. Eyes glowing, she bared her teeth in a snarl. Her low growl echoed to the farthest corners of the great hall.

Then the lights went out, throwing the hall into complete blackness. Gerry's childhood fear of the dark chose that moment to manifest at its panicky best. Chaos reigned in the great hall. The vampires seemed to know what was coming, because they stampeded for the exits. With everyone around her shoving and screaming, she got turned around. For a few frantic moments, she felt like she was lost in the hell Sean had just returned to. Terror clogged her throat even as she tried to convince herself that vampires weren't afraid of the dark.

Then she felt someone wrap his arms around her. Gerry didn't need him to speak. She recognized the warm comfort of his hard body, his familiar scent that promised safety. Wrapping her arms around Conall, she hung on.

Conall held her close. No matter what happened here, he'd made his decision. Morrigan could huff and puff until she keeled over from hyperventilation. He wasn't giving up what he had with Gerry. They'd find a way to make a life together no matter how much Morrigan tried to interfere. The goddess could issue thou-shalt-nots until she ran out of breath, but he and Gerry would find ways around her attempts to make their lives miserable.

“Hang on to me, sweetheart. Things are about to get ugly.” He moved Gerry as far away from the two goddesses as he could without actually leaving the hall. This was all about their future, so they needed to stay.

“What's going to happen?”

“Bast and Morrigan are going to mix it up. We're the Bast cheering section.” He ran his hands up and down her back to soothe her. Conall wouldn't admit it, but he probably needed some soothing, too. This was the closest he'd gotten to freedom in eight centuries. “Oh, and thanks for helping me out, partner.”