by Tena Stetler
“You do that. But first I think a few hours of sleep would make you more persuasive.” He kissed the top of her head and released her even though it went against all of his being. What he wanted was her in his bed. Where she was safe and secure with his arms wrapped around her soft, sensual body. Okay, that wasn’t the only reason I want her in my bed. Who am I kidding?
Synn trudged down the hall with Storm trotting behind her. She pushed open the door to the guest room and paused. She turned blew him a kiss and closed the door quietly.
He hoped there’d be no nightmares. The hold Baltizar had over her was troubling not to mention the abilities he was able to wield from the seventh level of Hell. What could Baltizar do should he break free? An icy cold chill shot up his spine. It didn’t matter he was going down one way or another.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Time has Come for the Return of Magic and the Powers that Bind
The sun was high in the sky when Synn’s eyes blinked open. What was that God-awful noise? Someone was clanking pans. The delicious smell of bacon and coffee assaulted her senses. She kicked the covers off, sat up, and stared at the clock. How could it be one o’clock in the afternoon? I gotta be at work in three hours. She howled as her warm feet touched the cold hardwood floor. Storm thundered up the hall and pushed her way into the room, all wiggles and snarfuling at her feet and legs.
Laughing, she bent down and rubbed behind the pup’s ears. “Good morning to you too.” Sliding her feet into her cozy slippers, she padded to the closet and pulled out a black pair of jeans, red sweater, and black boots with fringe at the top. Quickly she dressed and bounded to the kitchen. Yipping and barking, Storm cut in front of her nearly causing her to trip and go sprawling on the floor. Wouldn’t Gavin have a good laugh? Too bad, didn’t happen.
She rounded the corner into the kitchen. Gavin stood next to the stove stirring a pan of scrambled eggs. He scooped out the steaming food onto the plates next to a couple pieces of bacon. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Her mouth watered at the enticing aromas.
“You needed your sleep to be your best when you meet with Tristian at three this afternoon. He’ll be waiting at the pub for you.”
“You set up an appointment for me with him?” Her voice had an edge of irritation to it.
“Nope. He called this morning. Set up the meeting. Mary told him you were scheduled for work by four. Said it wouldn’t take long.” He shrugged.
“Crap.” She eased into the chair by the window and watched as the breeze swayed the trees. Conflicted, she considered her options. On one hand she wanted her power back. On the other, she worried she may not be ready. I’ll just have to trust that Tristian knows best. She shivered. That in itself was a scary thought.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Taking a pitcher of orange juice from the fridge, he poured the liquid in the two large tumblers on the table. “Toast should be up soon.” He picked up a steaming mug of coffee, wrapped his hands around it, and stroked the handle with his thumbs as he slipped into a chair beside her. “Changed your mind?”
“No,” she snapped.
“Touchy this morning. Huh?” He took a sip of the coffee. The toast popped, and he pushed up from the chair, buttered the toast, and brought the slices over to the table.
“Nooo. Wonder what he wants?” She forked up a bit of eggs, popped it in her mouth then reached for a strip of bacon.
This time he sat down across the table from her, set his coffee mug down, and picked up a glass of orange juice. He eyed her over the rim for a moment. “Better to get it over with than brood over it all day.”
“I don’t brood. But you’re probably right.” She finished her meal and took the plate to the sink, paused, walked to Storm’s bowl scraped a couple pieces of egg into her bowl, then rinsed her plate, and put it in the dishwasher. “Are you scheduled at four too?”
“Yep. I’m going to go on in as soon as the kitchen is cleaned up. I’d like to know what he wants too.”
“He wants to talk to me—not you.” She rinsed the pan, flicked the remaining droplets of water in Gavin’s direction, and put the pan in the dishwasher.
Gavin took the dish towel from his waist and snapped her arse with it. She swung around to swat at him, but he’d ducked out of range.
Wiggling his index finger at her he grinned wide. “Too slow, lassie.”
****
When they arrived at the pub, Tristian was already there seated at the bar, rolling a pint mug between his hands while conversing with Tim. The wind caught the heavy wooden door and banged it shut behind them. Tristian turned and nodded, motioning them to the stools beside him. Hannah was nowhere to be seen. A few early customers milled around finally settling at the bar or sliding into a booth. Monday’s were traditionally slow at the pub.
“A little early to be drinking,” Gavin teased.
“It’s root beer.” He took a large gulp. “Want something to drink?”
“Nope. Just finished breakfast.” She perched on the bar stool to his right. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” He wiped the condensation from his mug with a napkin and glanced at Tim. “Might we use your office for a few minutes?”
“Sure. No flying objects. You break something… you replace it.” Tim’s lips turned up in a lop-sided grin. “Only messing with you.”
Tristian raised an eyebrow, eased off his stool, and jerked his chin toward the office.
She climbed off the seat and followed him turning to toss a triumphant glance in Gavin’s direction before flouncing after Tristian.
Tristian paused, letting her go ahead of him, and looked over his shoulder. “Gavin, you’re free to join us.”
A slow smile spread across Gavin’s face. “Be right there.”
Tim shook his head and turned back to the stout he was building. He finished it up and slid the pint across the bar to an awaiting customer. Foam from the beer sloshed over and ran down the side of the mug. Tim grabbed a towel and mopped up the mess. Gavin snickered, before getting off the stool and sauntering down the hall.
Tristian took a seat behind the old wooden desk motioning to the two chairs in front of him. “I’ll get right to the point. Bruce is concerned at Baltizar’s ability to track you. For him to be able to physically move you across the room while projecting a hologram—not an ability we’ve seen. Hell, a hologram form should only be able to appear and at times talk. He—it should not have any physical attributes.”
She plopped down on the chair, all frivolous thoughts and banter with Gavin forgotten. “What do you mean?”
He leaned back in the chair. It ground out a squeak. “I mean Baltizar is drawing magic from this world while he’s in the underworld. A dangerous situation.”
Gavin stood behind her resting his hands on her shoulders. “So what are we going to do about him?”
“Bruce and I discussed it at great length last night.” Tristian paused shifting his gaze from her to Gavin and back again. “We’ve decided to return your powers.”
She pumped a fist in the air, then let her arm drop to her side. He’s not going to like that. Magic coursed through her body like lightning striking a tree, splitting it apart, and setting it on fire. She reveled in the feeling but feared being unable to control it once her magic is restored completely.
Eyes narrowed, Tristian held her gaze. “Not something to be taken lightly or celebrated. It’s serious business. You must temper your emotions lest the power get away from you and harm innocents.”
“It’s just us,” she argued.
“But you had no control. It was a reflex action. Not a metered or a calculated response. The combination of your full magic merged with that obtained from Baltizar is an unknown.”
“It won’t happen again.” It seemed like she was saying that a lot these days. Tristian was right. She’d needed more control. “Can he control me though his magic? Can I control him?”
“I don’t know. It appears he is using it as a conduit to tr
ack you. If he could control you, I think he would have tried by now.”
“Good to know. What about me? Could I use his magic against him?” Her lips twitched at the thought.
“Another unknown. Bruce and Angie will be here by week’s end. We will challenge you at every turn until your responses are automatic. Then we will gauge the strength of your magic and ability to control it with ease. Hopefully, we’ll discover if you are tethered to Baltizar through his magic in any way. Gale, Erin, Hannah, and Tiarnan will be involved testing you when you least expect it.”
“Oh goody. Work is off limits. Right?”
“No… Well…at first…in keeping our existence from the mortals. But what better place to test your abilities than when your attention is divided?”
“But what if I fail—here in the pub.” She got to her feet, raised her hands, and spun around. “And the magic is observed by customers who know me—mortals?” She blanched then stared directly at Tristian. “You’ll have to dispatch me.”
Tristian chuckled. “My reputation must be worse than I thought.” He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t let that happen. While we’ll all be testing you, we’ll have your back too. Failure is not an option.”
“Yeah, right. Remember who you are talking to.” She paced in front of the desk. Still her confidence didn’t wane. The magic wanted to snap and sizzle at her finger tips, but she held it back with little effort.
“You have changed so much from the demon that I—we—knew over a year ago. You’ve gotten in touch with your Fae magic. It’s strengthened and settled you. I can see it in our training sessions. You’re hardly recognizable. I see no reason to expect anything different now that all your magic has been returned. But Baltizar’s magic—we’ll have to wait and see its effects. Once you’re ready. We’ll plan our attack and carry it out when the time is right.”
“How much time do I have?”
Tristian frowned. “Not much. Training starts tonight after your shift.” An evil grin twisted his lips. “Maybe during your shift.” He leaned over, rested his elbows on the desk, and tented his fingers.
“You can’t.”
“Oh, believe me I can and I will.” He rose and strode toward the door.
“Wait a minute.” Gavin held up his hand. “Tomorrow, I’m taking Synn away from all this for a few hours. Can we let her at least have that without tests and training?”
Tristian was silent for a couple beats. “No guarantee. Remember her life as well as yours may one day soon hang in the balance.”
“Understood. But I’m not telling you where we are going.”
“Fair enough. If we can find you two—game on.” He yanked the door open and walked out into the hallway. “Until tonight.” A flick of his wrist and he was gone.
Gavin wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her close. “You got this.”
“I know. But at what cost to everyone I care about?” She squared her shoulders and strode out the door and down the hall.
At the end of the hallway where it opened into the pub, Bridget stood tapping her foot. “We have a full pub, and you pull a disappearing act?”
“No. Tim knew where I was. Had a meeting.” She glanced around. Not a stool or table was empty. “Where’d they all come from? On a Monday no less?”
“I’m sure I’ve no idea.” Bridget tossed her an apron, pad, and pencil. “Break time’s over.”
She caught the apron, tied it around her waist, and stuck the rest in the pockets. Felt good to get back to something familiar. I can handle this. I have to handle this. Never had she wanted anything so badly as to settle in this little town in Ireland, have friends, family, and fit in without fear stalking her.
Anxiety zinged through her most of the night. A tray of mugs crashed to floor and shattered, she jumped and whirled around magic snapped from her fingertips. She fisted her hands to hide the reaction. Her heart pounded in her chest. A shoving match erupted. She cringed. Gavin told them to take it outside, and they did. Waiting, watching for something to happen made her one big ball of nerves.
Two hours into her shift, she changed her attitude. If Tristian meant to get under her skin by his innuendos in the office, she’d let him, and it couldn’t continue. She straightened, squared her shoulders, and marched up to the bar gave Gavin her drink order and waited.
Gavin shoved a tray with a glass of wine and four pints toward her. “Off you go.” He winked at her and moved down the bar taking orders and making change.
If this was a weekend night, she expected the crowds, but for a Monday, it was insane. Customers were crawling out of the woodwork. It was standing room only. She shoved through the crowd, taking orders, delivering drinks, making small talk, and trading barbs with the regular clientele. By the end of the night, her feet hurt, and her voice was hoarse from trying to converse over the boisterous voices who’d had too much to drink. A quiet fell over the pub as the last customer walked out the door, and Gavin clicked the lock.
He leaned with his back against the door. “Whew, what a night. I wouldn’t have believed it, if I hadn’t seen it with me own eyes.”
Tim counted down the till and put the funds in the floor safe. “Good job. Now the lot of you get out of here.”
“Da, remember to make the deposit in the morning, I won’t be in. We have the night off tomorrow.” He shot her a grin. “We have plans during the day, and Ma is watching Storm.”
Tim swept his hat off his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “So I’ve been told.” The back door banged open. Steady footsteps sounded as someone made their way through the kitchen and pushed the swinging door open. All eyes met Tristian’s gaze as he paused inside the room.
“What?” He glanced at the group staring at him and crooked a finger at her. “We have a date.” His lips twitched, and a rare mischievous grin turned the corners of his mouth. “Don’t tell my wife.” He chuckled.
“Don’t tell me what?” Hannah danced through the doors a couple beats behind him.
“We apparently have a date,” she teased. “Can’t it wait. It’s been a hell of a night, and I’m beat.”
“Nope. Time waits for no one, and we’re burning starlight.” He held one of the swinging doors open. As he passed by Hannah, he stopped and gave her a searing kiss. “See ya later.”
She caught him around the neck and returned the steamy kiss, then turned attention to her da. “Ma sent me to remind you that you two have an early day tomorrow.
Tim nodded. “Aye.”
She sighed and tipped her head back to look skyward. “Let’s get this over with.”
With an eyebrow raised, Tristian leveled his gaze at her. “One would have thought a display of more excitement would be in order at having the remainder of your powers restored.”
“Oh wow. After the initial—you meant to plant the seed of possibility in— Never mind. I’m ready.”
“I did indeed. Took a while for you to settle down, but after you did…good job. Looking for trouble is not being prepared for trouble.” He motioned her impatiently through the door. “I’ll have her back before dawn.”
“Better be before that, she needs a few hours’ sleep to enjoy the day I have planned,” Gavin growled.
“The day you have planned may be a bit different than anticipated,” Tristian shot back on his way out the door.
****
It was the wee hours of the morning when she trudged up the stairs into the house. She took her boots off outside the door so as not to wake Gavin. It had been a grueling three hours. Her returned powers blended seamlessly within her. All was well until Tristian disappeared and reappeared behind her deliberately scaring the bejeebers out of her. All hell broke loose.
Her fingers flared sending sparks as far as the rocky coast line. Wind whipped around her enclosing her in a small tornado. To top it all off, thunder and lightning seemed to come from nowhere crashing all around her and huge rain drops dotted the landscape. Tristian stood frozen in place for what seem
ed like hours. In reality, it was only a few minutes. Finally, he’d shouted. “Take control. You’ve got to control all the magic. Rein it in—NOW.”
Try as she might, the magic had a mind of its own. In the end, Tristian froze the scene, reached through the wind barrier, cracked it releasing her. Lightning bolts were stuck from midair to the ground, big rain drops were suspended all around them some in mid splash on the ground. The scene was surreal but beautiful at the same time. Tristian’s irritated voice had cut though her observations. He didn’t appreciate the moment. A tired grin turned up one corner of her lips at the memory.
It had been a massive failure. Eventually she’d been able to rein in her magic, control it, and clean up the mess. Subsequent exercises were more successful. She shook her head as she undressed. Never had she commanded so much powerful magic. Exhausted, she crawled into bed as a satisfied sigh escaped her lips. I did it. In the end, I met Tristian’s expectations. A feat in itself. Snuggled deep under the covers, she drifted off to sleep. She tossed and turned through several nightmarish scenarios, waking often, until… surrounded by evil she couldn’t identify, she screamed herself awake to find a gleaming silver sword floating over her. Storm howled in her crate, and Gavin burst through the door to the room.
“What in the hell?” He skidded to a halt at the foot of her bed.
In all the chaos, she was calm. Her sheets damp from sweat that beaded on her forehead. The sword glinted in the ray of sunlight streaming through the curtains. The jewels encrusted on the handle sparkled as the weapon slowly lowered toward her, handle first. When she reached out, Gavin made a strange sound in his throat. She touched it and wrapped her fingers around it. It was warm. A sudden sense of well-being flooded through her, then the sword disappeared.
“Well, that’s quite a rush first thing in the morning. What the hell was that?”
“I’ve no idea.” She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “Came with some of the ancient magic I inherited? Didn’t feel like demon magic. Maybe we should contact Tristian.”