Wicked Paradise (17 page)

She snorted. “He’s just a baby.” She crouched and stretched her hand toward the black foal.

The winged horse scrambled toward her and buried its head in her lap. Ryan snorted in disbelief. Morgan lifted her head, her smile worth all the stars in the midnight sky. Her face gleamed with a new mother’s joy. He flogged down his apprehension and watched her in awe.

“That must have been his mother you saw.” Sadness swam in her eyes. “Oh, dear. That creature killed his mother when she protected the foal. Weakened from birthing, she could not escape.”

Ryan’s eyebrows slid up his forehead. “You speak to animals, too?”

“The foal and I seem to share a mind link.” She smoothed the baby horse’s charcoal hued mane and scratched behind its tiny fluttering ears. “This island does strange things to my magic.”

“A psychic connection. Now what?” Ryan rolled his eyes. “Little raven, you’re freaking me out.”

An eerie, shrill whistle soared above the busy jungle music. The area dimmed as though a cloud sailed across the sun. Except Ryan hadn’t seen one cloud the whole time he’d existed on the island. The darkening jungle started to blot out the clear skies.

Damn. “WindWraith’s out there, Morgan.” He reached for her hand. The winged horse shrank away and growled at him. “Let’s go.”

“We can’t leave him here.” Wrapping her arms around the foal’s midriff, she tried to boost it up on its spindly legs.

Ryan gently eased her away and coaxed the animal to its feet. The foal hissed at him and edged against the boulders. After a few attempts, he got it to stand on its stick-thin legs, but its knees wobbled and buckled. The winged horse lifted its head with the most incredible dismay on its face. It grunted in frustration, and a white star-shaped patch on its forehead wrinkled.

Morgan rubbed the foal’s head. “I’ll use a bit of shielded restorative magic,” she announced.

Without waiting for Ryan’s response, light streamed thinly from her index finger. A palpable air current nudged the foal’s belly, swirled around its haunches. The glow disappeared, and the animal stood stable on all four legs. Tail swishing, it took a few tentative steps, pranced, testing out its dexterity.

Ryan gave her an appraising look. “Close your magic off.”

She smiled grimly. “I did.”

He grabbed her hand and led the way, the foal trotting alongside Morgan. They headed toward the grotto, retracing her original path. Silent, she remained as close to Ryan as possible, one hand on the winged horse’s neck.

A warm wind picked up, sweeping leaves and sticks into the air like tiny lost souls. Noon sunshine penetrating the tree cover dulled into the gloom of sundown. The Fomorian grew and expanded with the energy it zapped from them every moment they were exposed to its invisible tentacles. If what WindWraith had said in his nightmare was true, the island also fed it. If true, what was the island doing to Morgan? A band squeezed Ryan’s chest.

They plodded forward, slowed by the encroaching jungle. Vines, living ropes of magic, twined and unwound around their arms and legs. The jungle tumbled into darkness to rival dusk by the time the first airstream of evilness prodded their backs.

Morgan scooted between two palms into another small meadow. “Will the jungle protect us?” The ominous emerald mass absorbed the colors of the trees and bushes. The jungle fell behind in shadows.

“Don’t count on it. We’ll need our magic.”

A risk they’d have to take. It opened the door for WindWraith to suck out more power or possibly consume one of them completely if it had gained sufficient strength.

They guided the foal into a thicket, hiding it with fronds. Morgan patted its head. “Baby, stay here.” She clasped his hand, her palm damp and shaking. “What shall we do?”

They had to raise their voices to hear over the creaking and whirling of increasing wind in the trees. Palm fronds rasped together. Leaves, dead and alive, swirled thick as a blizzard.

Ryan enclosed them in a shield until they were ready for defense. “I’m working on it,” he yelled.

Morgan rose on her toes, her lips grazing his ear. “What kind of power do you possess? Can we combine our magic?”

He realized he’d never told her the extent of his magic. Or what he intended to do with it. How could he tell Morgan he didn’t want the powerful, ancient Fomorian destroyed?

Chapter 18

Morgan sensed Ryan’s hesitation in the muscle twitch under her hand. He tucked her into his side, his mouth at her ear.

“Elemental fire and,” he hesitated, his nervous expression stilled and grew calculating, “ether.”

Starfire? Something invisible crawled across her skin. No one possessed ether magic any longer, not even in her time.
Oh Goddess!
Ancient Druid blood ran through his veins, whether he knew it or not. Only an Ancient had the power to wield ether. Yet, she sensed he held something back, a puzzling innate ability within his elemental magic.

They traded bold, assessing stares, ignoring the dissonant noise raining upon them. Ryan’s eyebrow peaked in a questioning slant.

“I command fire, air, and earth magic,” she said in his ear, knowing her combination of elemental magic was nearly as rare as his ether.

Ryan’s jaw dropped, and he rasped his fingers over his chin thoughtfully. At least they could combine their firepower to escape.

WindWraith wavered in a smoky cloud, alternately expanding and diminishing. The ghostly form encased them entirely. Venomous depravity plagued the air outside Ryan’s barrier. Trees and vegetation undulated eerily in the chaotic wind. Vines shrank away, rolled into balls. Flowers closed and hid behind leaves. The island’s intangible angst seeped into her bones. The winged foal whispered his fright in her mind. Evil penetrated through tiny holes in their cocoon, sipping air from the bubble.

“It has a strange mix of powers for a Fomorian, even if it is part Druid,” Ryan said. “Fomorians in my time can shift into or possess bodies, but I’ve never seen a shadow-shifter like this.”

“It has lived many years to develop such powers.” An invisible spark struck Morgan’s leg. “Now, Ryan!” Her fingernails jabbed his arm. “It’s breaching the shield. Let’s start with fire until we determine what it can do.”

His eyes were ocean cool against his serene angular face, but his muscles coiled for a fight. The dragon tattoo tensed on his straining biceps.

“I’ll have to dissolve the shield for maximum contact, then blast up with fire. You follow with a second blast,” he shouted above the roar of seething trees and the shrill keening of the heaving cloud. “Then we blast together. Shut down your magic after each shot. Give it no opening to forge a bond.”

She released his arm, readying her power. Malevolence thickened the air inside their fortress. More invisible sparks flew at Morgan, concentrating foremost on her, seeming to ignore Ryan.

Ryan’s hair lifted like spider webs floating in the air. He dropped his invisible wall and thrust his arms toward heaven. A white ball turned to golden fire on his palm and exploded from his fingertips. He waved his arms in circles, encompassing the enormous evil shadow in his magic. Bullet-sized holes split WindWraith’s mass where Ryan’s scorching fire struck. The Fomorian howled, a deafening hurricane, determined to drown out the island’s myriad sounds. The dense shadow bore down upon them. Air scraped Morgan’s throat with every inhale.

Ryan flexed his muscles, preparing his inner body for another onslaught. “Now!” Diffuse blue magic shimmered off him.

Morgan drew forth fire. Thrusting out her arms, she twirled her index fingers in circles, shooting one invisible bolt after another of damaging magic. They blasted alternating waves of exploding fire at the evil blob.

WindWraith splintered as if torn apart by wild beasts. Its bloodcurdling screams resonated throughout the jungle. Gale force wind knocked Morgan on top of a trampled fern, interrupting her concentration. She rammed shut her external door of magic but she wasn’t quick enough.

A chunky black arm wrapped about her, separating her from Ryan, from the island. An invisible rope shackled her wrists. She cried out, but the sound died inside her. Horror paralyzed her.

Ryan shot spheres of fiery magic at the sundered parts of the evil shadow. Each mottled bit of evil detonated into white puffs and drifted away until the specks disappeared. He dropped to his knees before her shadowy prison. His lips moved, but the wind whipped his words away. Morgan no longer felt the island, and her links to Ryan and the foal had been severed. WindWraith’s remains concentrated on her, arrogantly discarding additional threats from Ryan.

The Fomorian touched her like a familiar lover. Tongues of opaque air picked apart her tunic and leggings, and she was unable to raise a finger to stop it. WindWraith’s seduction returned her to a state of arousal, preying on her memories of Ryan as though it held none of its own. She was defenseless to prevent her garments from disintegrating into useless threads, carried away on the malicious winds.

Ryan grabbed at the pulsating gray mass, yanking his hand away. His magic was useless without risking harm to her. She fought the seduction, tried to concentrate on escape. Light and shadows penetrated the gray void and Ryan disappeared from view. She no longer felt her heart beating. All feelings but one left her body numb, although part of her mind remained alert. An indistinct windswept voice infiltrated her head, crammed it with ancient images, pagan rituals, and magic spells.

Air spiraled memories within her mind. Water swished ancient magic into the hurricane. Earth powers erupted, capturing the air and water greedily into a cauldron of information. The three elements swirled chaotically in Morgan’s brain, bereft of one missing element. Fire.

WindWraith nipped her bare skin with a lover’s mouth, fueling urges she battled. Her breasts tingled and her nipples ached. A smooth, fingerless hand tickled her scars, glided along her quivering stomach toward her thighs. Morgan thrashed on the ground, infuriated with her body’s reaction to this foul creature of darkness, unable to end the maddening hunger fueling her blood. The Fomorian forced memories of Ryan caressing her to the front of her mind. It used those images against her, tricking her body. Confusion pounded in her head. She tried to push at the mass, but her limbs refused to move.

A male voice filled her mind, raspy with age, thick with conceit. “I once loved a powerful sorceress much like you,” the voice held the distinct British accent from her land.

Avalon’s Shadow. Talking telepathically? Morgan’s throat closed on the words begging to tumble out.

“She possessed the fire magic that complimented mine. We were to wed and bind our magic in a powerful alliance. A perfect union. We planned to conquer the world together. Intended to love one another far into the Afterlife.” His voice grew regretful. “Alas, she kept great secrets, and hid an element of magic, which she knew could destroy me if we were to mate and fulfill the binding. In the end, her lies and betrayals, her promise to her coven to steal my magic and kill me to increase her own strength, worked to destroy us both.”

WindWraith’s agitation pressed on Morgan’s senses in a morass of anger, sadness, and guilt. Empathizing with his agitation, she finally found her voice. “Why did you want her after learning of her duplicity?” The pressure eased up, although WindWraith continued to caress her body. “She didn’t deserve your magnificence.”

A pleasurable sigh escaped him, almost as if he were grateful for Morgan’s interest, preening for her compliment. “I loved her beyond reason. I long desired her for my wife. Our magic completed each other in ways no other could. We epitomized the traditional roles of the ruling High Priest and High Priestess. We had it all in our midst. Love. Honor. Happiness. Duty. Peace and riches. A multitude of subjects across the lands who loved us, begged for our union to return joy and prosperity to their dismal lives.”

An air strap tightened around Morgan’s throat as if she were the traitorous woman of whom WindWraith spoke. She gasped for oily air, gagged on the evilness clogging her throat. The band loosened and WindWraith continued.

“The night before our nuptials, she drugged me. The whore seduced me, instigating the binding ritual. My precious lover filled my body with her dark magic. Stealing the night from me, forcing me to crave sunlight in order to cleanse her impurities from my body just to live another day. Until the dark magic congealed again and the cycle began anew.” WindWraith made an odd guttural scream of rage. “Little did I know until the moment of her betrayal that she possessed the one element unable to meld with my magic. She lied to our subjects, told them that
I
came from the wrong line of Druids.
I
sought to destroy them if allowed to live. She was the one spawned from a Sluagh mix, the foulest, manipulative demons of the dead. Even the Underworld rejected the vile creatures. She wanted to feed upon my magic to make her the most powerful being alive.” WindWraith’s high-pitched snickers pelted Morgan’s mind. “Alas, her plans failed. During the binding, my body cleansed her darkness, diluted her taint. Before I killed the betraying hag, I drew out the Sluagh bitch’s magic and made it my own breed of power.”

WindWraith’s seduction magnified and his caresses became more intimate. Unable to halt her ecstasy, she cried out and writhed on her bed of ice. Visions of its former human body making love to a voluptuous red-haired sorceress stuffed her mind. Spread eagle, the Sluagh’s wrists were tied to the posts of a massive sumptuous bed while WindWraith assaulted her naked body in ways Morgan had never seen. Cringing at the brutality, she tried to shutter her mind to the visions, but the door refused to budge.

“After I imprisoned her, I spent several fortnights loving her mind, body, and soul. Filling her with my seed over and over, making her beg for it time and again. Making her beg for a spoonful of magic to fill the empty cavities beneath her skin and bones. Forcing her to understand the error of her selfish ways. Not long afterward, her belly swelled with my child, and she vowed to be a good mother, truly promised to rule by my side, to obey me without abandon. The day she told me she loved me, and meant it, was her last day walking the earth.”