Wicked Magic (24 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

BOOK: Wicked Magic
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Head-splitting pain shot through Rhiannon's skull as she
felt Ceithlenn try to gain hold of her mind. The goddess was trying to control both her and the Shadows!
The Great Guardian's words flowed through Rhiannon's mind—
“If you stop fighting them, they will help you. You need to trust yourself, and in turn the Shadows will answer to you.”
Rhiannon ground her teeth, focused on the Shadows, and—let it all go. She stopped fighting and allowed the Shadows free reign over Ceithlenn.
She glanced at Jake and nodded. He returned her nod and held his .357 in both hands, his stance wide, and pointed it at the goddess.
Rhiannon dropped the shield.
“Now, now, now, now!” Jake shouted.
Shots rang out in the hallway as bullets went through Rhiannon's Shadows and pierced Ceithlenn's flesh. Spellfire ripped her wings as Sydney and Rhiannon flung fireballs.
The goddess let out a shriek that tore at Rhiannon's eardrums.
Ceithlenn's unholy red eyes met Rhiannon's. The goddess snarled, wrapped her wings around her battered body—
And vanished.
The Shadows immediately shot into Rhiannon's body.
She stumbled backward at the force of their entry. It felt strange and awful, like her body was made of electricity and someone was walking inside of her. Several someones.
Yet at the same time, it felt right. Like they
belonged
inside her.
She swayed, suddenly feeling tired and worn—like the Shadows had taken so much energy from her, worse than when they had attacked Keir.
“Fuck!” Jake motioned to his officers and they checked every room, kicking the doors in, grasping their rifles or handguns and sweeping the room.
The D'Danann kept their swords readied and the witches were prepared with their magic and their shields.
Nothing.
No more Fomorii. No Junga or Darkwolf monsters. No Ceithlenn.
Rhiannon stood where she was for several moments. She'd lost control of the Shadows, but they'd helped her fight Ceithlenn.
They'd
helped
her fight.
Another thought jabbed her heart hard. Those involved in the fight had to have noticed that the Shadows came
from
her. Returned
to
her.
Exhausted, Rhiannon felt her stomach twist as the Shadows stirred within her, retreating back to the place where she kept them hidden—only not as deep as they had been before.
She wrapped her arms around her belly and felt sick, like she might throw up. Dear Anu, how could such evil be good? And how could it come from her?
But her headache—it had been lessened, as if somehow the Shadows had weakened the goddess's hold.
Sydney touched Rhiannon's arm, startling her. “We've got to get you bandaged up,” Sydney said. “You're injured.”
Something else was in her eyes as her concern warred with a frown. After a pause, Sydney adjusted her glasses and added, “It looks like all of the Coven sisters are going to have to have a talk when we have a chance. I don't know what just happened, but I think you do.”
Rhiannon's heart sank and she squeezed her arms around her waist tighter.
Sydney didn't say anything more. Instead she took Rhiannon by the arm and led her to the penthouse living room with the other fighters. The team that had taken the right hall were already there.
“Not another damn Fomorii to be seen,” Tiernan said, his expression tight with anger. “What did you find?”
“The goddess bitch.” Jake holstered his handgun and winced. “But she got away.”
Rhiannon looked at Jake's chest. A smoldering hole in his T-shirt and the Kevlar exposed burnt flesh. The hole was about the size of an orange.
“You're hurt, Jake,” she said and almost moaned as she touched her own chest and felt the pain of a burn. “Let one of the witches examine you,” she managed to get out through gritted teeth.
“It's just a burn. Nothing serious.” Jake braced his hands on his thighs and glanced up at her. “Looks like she got you, too.”
Her own wound wasn't as bad as she expected when she checked. Like Jake, a large hole had been seared into her black body armor and the T-shirt beneath it. The Kevlar had a hole the size of a golf ball melted into it, right below her breastbone.
The body armor had saved her life, as well as Jake's.
And the Shadows … Goddess. They had saved
all
of their lives.
In the next second, Rhiannon was jerked around by her upper arms. Keir's gaze traveled the length of her, as if assessing her for damage.
“You fool of a witch!” His expression was furious when his gaze met hers. He shook her a couple of times. “Ceithlenn almost killed you.”
Rhiannon scowled and started to tell him off only to have Keir's mouth take hers. She fought him, but his kiss was harsh, punishing.
Rhiannon bit his lower lip hard, trying to get him to stop, but he didn't. Instead his kiss only became more intense.
She started to kiss him just as fiercely. And before she knew it, he had her backed up against a wall and she'd wrapped her arms around his neck. His stubble chafed her face and his body was hard against hers.
When he finally tore his mouth away, she could only stare into his dark, furious eyes. His voice was low and harsh. “She. Almost. Killed. You.
Never
get close to the goddess again.”
Rhiannon slid her arms from his neck, down to his biceps, and to his chest. She didn't have the strength to push him away. The shot of magic from Ceithlenn, the power of Keir's kiss …
She looked him in the eyes. “We all came here to do a job.” Rhiannon straightened her spine. “Sometimes the job comes with danger, but that's something we all have to face.”
“Not
you.
” Keir reached up and cupped her cheek. “Not you.”
Rhiannon shivered at the power of the tenderness in his touch and in his eyes. He'd gone from fury to a gentleness that tore at her heart.
She grabbed his shirt in her fists and rose up to brush her lips over his before drawing back. “You've got to understand, Keir. This is my fight just as much as it is anyone else's.” She brought her hand to her cheek and touched the Fomorii scars that burned even now. “It's not only this, it's the fact that my friends' lives are at stake. Countless other people's lives are in danger. And if this entire city could be blown off the map, then who knows what's next?”
Rhiannon brought her fingers to his lips when he started to speak. “This is not going to change. Instead of fighting me, fight
with
me. I'm a strong witch, but together, as a team, we'll really kick some ass.”
Keir wrapped his arms around her so tightly that he smashed her face against his shirt. She inhaled his comforting male scent.
“A stór,”
he whispered and pressed his lips against her head. “Now that I have found you, I do not want to lose you.”
Rhiannon closed her eyes when she felt the pinprick of tears. Oh, how she wished this could last forever.
She pushed away and avoided his gaze. “I think there's probably work to be done now.”
He let her slip away from him. When she turned to face the room, some of the witches, in addition to Hawk, were staring at her and Keir. Heat rose in her cheeks, but Rhiannon walked over and stood next to Sydney. “Find anything?” she asked.
“No.” Sydney fingered the burnt edges of the hole in Rhiannon's T-shirt. “You and Jake could have bought it. You could have died.”
“Hey.” Rhiannon looked to everyone who was watching
her. “This isn't just a bunch of small skirmishes that we're involved in. This is outright war. The only way we're going to win is if everyone works together. It's the risk we all have to take.”
Silver flung her arms around Rhiannon's neck. “I didn't save your butt months ago just to lose you now. Be more careful.”
“Okay.” Rhiannon drew away from Silver, who had tears in her eyes. “We'll
all
have to be more careful.”
Silver rubbed Rhiannon's arm and gave a small smile. “That means everyone here. All we have is one another.”
Rhiannon hugged each of her Coven sisters until she came to Hannah, who glanced at the hole in Rhiannon's vest and back to her face. “We need to get you and Jake to Cassia.” Hannah cleared her throat. “To make sure you're properly healed.”
Rhiannon sighed and nodded. “You're right.”
Hannah raised her hand until her palm was level with Rhiannon's wound. “Sorry about invading your little box.” Hannah's voice took on her usual sarcastic tone. “But this time just shut up about it.”
Rhiannon opened her mouth then closed it as green sparkles radiated from Hannah's hand to the wound on Rhiannon's chest. Immediately, the burning sensation eased and she took a breath of relief.
“Go on.” Hannah backed away. “Get to Cassia.”
Rhiannon nodded. “Thank you.”
She turned and shook her head. What was the world coming to now? Hannah was concerned about her?
And Keir … she couldn't even begin to think about his part in all of this. And exactly how she felt about it … about him.
Ceithlenn burned with fury.
In the cavern beneath Alcatraz, she crouched on a ledge with her palms braced between her thighs. Far below her was the army of Fomorii, Basilisks, and three-headed dogs from Underworld.
Ceithlenn growled as she thought about what had happened only hours ago. She had come face-to-face with the bitch who had invaded her mind and her sanctum.
Rhiannon
. Her mind should still be broken, and she should have died from the blast of Ceithlenn's magic.
“Why isn't the bitch dead?” Ceithlenn said aloud.
Her own wounds had healed, the tears in her wings mended with her regenerative powers. The only reason she had suffered any damage at all was because she had drained herself transforming Darkwolf and Junga into her special weapons. Too bad she had already transferred them here, to this rock of an island, or those who had dared to attack her would have suffered a sure defeat.
No matter.
Her lips curved into a smile and she licked her fangs. She would defeat the human law enforcement, D'Danann, and those
witches.
She had devised a plan to lure them out in order to do so. And she had come up with the perfect venue. One where she could draw on many souls before the battle was finished, allowing her to bring Balor
back. There were relatively few of her enemies in comparison to her legions that it would not take her entire force to defeat them. She would save the bulk of her army to devour San Francisco.
Below the ledge where she perched, the demons of her army sharpened their nails, which they all had dipped in iron heated until it was a fiery liquid. Before today, only a few of the Fomorii had iron-tipped claws. But now all the demons would.
Her gaze landed on Darkwolf and Junga. She had put the pair to work commanding her legions.
Ceithlenn flapped her great wings and pushed herself from the ledge. Air rushed past her now-healed face. She soared above the legions, her gaze taking in all who served her. From one end of the cavern to the other, she assessed the demons.
Her eyes narrowed as she honed in on the bodies of multiple dead humans being dragged into the cavern by a group of Fomorii.
She dove toward the leader of the group. Paa, Ceithlenn thought her name was.
She landed before Paa and the Fomorii demon immediately bowed her scaly, hideous orange head. “How may I serve you, my goddess?” Paa asked in the guttural language of the Fomorii.
Ceithlenn's hair flamed higher, burning with the force of her anger. “Where did these humans come from?”
“One of the tour boats, my goddess.” Paa raised her head. “We found much flesh to feed the Fomorii.”
“You idiot!” Ceithlenn held out her hand. A burst of magic shot out and slammed into the demon's chest.
Paa was flung back several feet and struck its head on the stone wall. The demon held its hand to its chest, where it was seared so badly the heart was exposed.
“I did not give you permission to harvest humans!” She stalked toward the demon. “We cannot have too many humans missing. Yet. Only I may take their lives and their flesh.”
Paa trembled, and its three eyes were wide with fear. When Ceithlenn stood directly in front of Paa, she reached out, grabbed the demon's pulsating heart, ripped it from Paa's chest, and sank her teeth into the organ. She ate as she watched Paa die.
The demon screamed, but the sound faded away as it crumbled to silt on the cavern floor.
Ceithlenn turned to the demons that had gone quiet as she punished the legion leader. Blood dribbled down the goddess's chin, and she took another bite of the heart. The heart of a Fomarii did not turn to silt if it was ripped from a living demon's chest.
With the D'Danann it was much the same. Their bodies would vanish, but their hearts would remain if torn from their chest before they died.
“No eating humans,” Ceithlenn shouted to the legions. “Harvest only fish. No more whales. I do not wish to have a trail left that might expose us before we are ready to attack.”
“Yes, my goddess,” came the replies, the roar of voices equal to the roar of the ocean.
Ceithlenn swallowed the rest of the heart.
Using great nets, her demons had been capturing fish and other sea creatures from the bay and as far out as the ocean for food. When she had been in her penthouse lair, the Sara part of her had listened to what was called a television. It pleased Ceithlenn to hear the frantic concern about the gradual depletion of the bay's creatures. Once the Fomorii had brought in a whale, and several times sharks and octopi.
Ceithlenn soared over the heads of the demons and shouted out commands to the remaining legion leaders. “All beings in this sanctuary must train each waking minute of every day.”
Her creatures bowed so low their faces touched the cavern floor and she smiled.
The Fomorii practiced using speed to get to their enemies and jumps to snatch D'Danann warriors from the sky. They would dig their nails into the warriors' flesh and destroy them with the iron on their claws.
Basilisks and the three-headed dogs of Underworld were worthless to train, but very useful in battle.
She would gain massive power from devouring the souls from the San Francisco Giants' exhibition game in the baseball stadium.
Ceithlenn glided back to her ledge, landed, and crouched again with her palms on the rock's bumpy surface. She smiled. She would soon call forth Balor.
When her beloved arrived, she would take the eye from Darkwolf's throat. She would present it to her love, her husband. Without his eye he was blind. With it, he could kill legions with just one look.
He had lost his single eye when a prophecy came to pass and his own grandson, the sun god Lugh, had shot the eye from Balor's head.
But the eye, all these centuries later, had been retrieved.
Once Balor had his eye, all within his line of sight would perish.

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