by Dianna Love
“When we do find her,” Adrianna continued as she packed up her witch supplies with the precision of someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder, “Nadina is not going to be easy to corner, and it won’t be easy to convince her to take you into Mitnal.”
“She does not want to piss me off any more than she has.”
“That’s all good and fine, badass, but we need some major juice to pull this off.”
Evalle lifted an eyebrow. “Are you saying she’s more powerful than a Sterling witch?”
“Normally, no, but Hanhau is more powerful. If Nadina has cut a deal with him, I have no idea what we’re up against.”
“If we capture Nadina, can you cast a spell on her to do what you say?” Evalle asked.
“Probably, but she’d have to be incapacitated so that she couldn’t bespell both me and you first.” Adrianna walked around, systematically picking up her candles, thinking out loud. “We need someone like Sen to–”
“No!” Now that her arms and legs would function again, Evalle shoved to her feet and twisted out the kinks from that crazy out-of-body trip. If she helped Adrianna pick up this stuff, the whole thing would go faster.
Blue eyes slashed at Evalle with irritation. “I didn’t say to call in Sen,” Adrianna stressed, then stopped to shake her head when Evalle reached for a candle. “Thanks for the help, but don’t touch my things.”
Evalle lifted her hands and backed away.
Content that her majik toys were safe, Adrianna continued packing herbs and candles into plastic bags. “All I’m saying is we need some major power to pin down Nadina. If not Sen, who else do we know? Doesn’t a centaur own the Iron Casket nightclub?”
“Yes, that’s Deek D’Alimonte, but I can’t ask him for anything. I already owe him an open-ended favor.”
“Oh?”
“Not talking about that,” Evalle said, nipping that whole topic. Tristan had teleported her away from a Medb ambush, back to the nightclub where she’d left her bike. But he missed by about a hundred feet and she landed in Deek’s office uninvited, then tossed her cookies on the centaur’s pants and shoes.
Most people that unlucky or stupid didn’t live to tell about it.
Adrianna named a couple more, but Evalle nixed each one as either being an agent of VIPER and/or a Belador. She couldn’t bring the team into this. Macha could help her, but only if she’d had a lobotomy and could be convinced that Storm wasn’t a demon. Quinn could probably take control of Nadina’s mind, but he was in bad shape already. Evalle needed to go check on him as it was.
“Without some serious muscle, we have no plan,” Adrianna declared. Then she paused and snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it.”
Thank goodness, because they’d run through the entire registry of nonhumans that Evalle knew. “Really? What?”
“I’ll find out where Nadina is and you get that guy you know who makes mega blasters. He gave you one that stunned a troll when we had the Svart troll problem. If we can stun Nadina with one of those things, I can work a spell.” She paused to pull a cell phone out of her bag of tricks and hand it over.
Taking the phone, Evalle should be happy that Adrianna had an idea, but she was talking about Isak Nyght. Isak made custom weapons that killed nonhumans. He was one of the few humans in the city who even knew that VIPER agents and other preternaturals existed.
The last time Evalle saw Isak, she’d stopped him from kissing her and informed him that she and Storm were an item.
They were a lot more than that now if she was truly mated to Storm.
What had been Isak’s reaction?
He took it as a challenge.
The minute Evalle informed Isak that Storm was trapped in another realm, Isak would hold a party to celebrate.
“What?” Adrianna asked, evidently irritated at Evalle’s hesitation. “Do you or don’t you want to free Storm?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then why aren’t you on the phone calling your black ops buddy?”
“I’m calling now.”
But she had no idea how she was going to convince Isak to save the one person he wanted out of the way permanently.
TÅμr Medb, home of the Medb coven
Chapter 15
“How many of our coven have we released into the mortal world?” Maeve asked, hovering near the wall of precious stones, some the size of her head.
“Only a hundred,” Cathbad the Druid replied, walking from the throne over to where Maeve moved her hands slowly in front of the wall. “Half of them were sent directly to the area called Atlanta.”
“How is that going?” She glanced over to see that Cathbad had dressed in a black suit with a black shirt. He would have gleaned the way mortals dressed today from their warlocks who had traveled to the mortal world. His pale brown hair still had a bit of curl in it just as it had years ago, but he was wearing it shorter now. Brown eyes that had left women strewn in his wake smoldered when he caught her looking. He grinned and she knew why she’d allowed this druid to talk her into the prophecy.
“They’re surprising me with just how good they are at deceiving the VIPER agents, especially the Beladors. Have ya figured out how to unlock the visions stored in that scrying wall?”
Maeve smiled, enjoying how her reflection sparkled in the water shimmering its way down the rock face and pooling at the base inside a half circle of diamonds. She could have any appearance she wanted, but she preferred her black hair, lavender eyes and full lips. “I’ve made some alterations to the stones and water that allowed me to observe a few visions, but nothing useful. Of all the queens allowed to rule in my absence, Flaevynn may not have been the most intelligent, but she was definitely the more cunning based on the things we’ve uncovered. Unfortunately, she didn’t appear to have enough common sense to keep a slug alive.”
“Perhaps we should have fine-tuned the prophecy to have groomed a better lot to stand in for us,” he joked. “From what I’ve learned through interviewing warlocks and witches who survived Flaevynn’s rule, she depended heavily on her daughter Kizira.”
“Didn’t she die during the battle?”
“I’m not entirely certain. All I’ve been able to confirm is that she did not return with the Medb warriors sent to attack Treoir.”
Maeve turned to Cathbad. “What of this Kizira? I heard one coven member indicate Kizira was accused of being a traitor at one point and sent to the dungeon. Her father, the reigning Cathbad at the time, was rumored to be in conflict with Flaevynn, even allowing the girl a year to live where she chose before she had to accept her priestess position when she reached adulthood.”
“I’ve heard as much in my talks around TÅμr Medb. We need better information.” He stretched his fingers and grinned. “That only takes skimming into the subconscious to find hidden treasures.”
She waved him off with a hand. “That is your territory. I have no desire to wallow in the minds of those far inferior to me.”
“As always, I’m the one who must do the dirty work,” he said in mock despair.
“Oh, please. We gravitate to that for which we are best suited.” She winked at him and swung back around to the wall, waved her hand and watched as the entire surface turned into a view of mountains and a castle rising in the mist. Large creatures were flying again. “The gryphons are still loyal to Treoir. I don’t understand why, when they have Medb blood as well as Belador. How could they just change allegiance like that in the middle of a battle?”
She’d listened to several reports from warlocks who had returned from the siege on Treoir Castle.
“Perhaps they’re not all loyal to Macha and the Beladors, only thinking of self-preservation for the moment.”
“You have a point. That could be it.” Dismissing the view, Maeve floated back to the floor and strode over to the throne with Cathbad following her. She took in the room as she walked. “This room is not fit for a camp follower.”
“From what I heard, that is exactly what it was
suited for if the stories of Flaevynn’s sexual exploits are to be believed.”
“We are fortunate the prophecy ended with her. The Medb reputation would have suffered if Flaevynn had ended up immortal as the fool had believed would happen.” Maeve would have liked to have seen Flaevynn’s face as the Medb queen’s body warped into Maeve’s reincarnated one. Maeve and Cathbad had made a blood pact two millennia past and created a prophecy, which allowed Medb queens born after Maeve’s death to live six hundred and sixty-six years. Each would marry a descendant of Cathbad who carried his name.
None of the interim queens had dared challenge the prophecy until Flaevynn, but even with her meddling, the prophecy was still realized. The true rulers returned through an altered form of reincarnation.
Maeve chuckled to herself over the look on the face of Flaevynn’s Cathbad mate just before the druid’s body warped and he turned into Cathbad the Druid. The original one.
Cathbad suggested, “I can release another hundred witches and warlocks into that Atlanta city. I’ve had only one negative report on the first wave so the second group should be fairly safe.”
“What happened to that one?”
“My scouts said a Belador destroyed the mind of one of ours and the warlock was run down by a large transport.”
“I thought the Belador powers were weak right now?”
“This one is known as Vladimir Quinn and is said to have the ability to mind lock. A very powerful Belador.”
“What are we to do about him?”
“I’ve already begun a plan that will deal with him.”
“Does that mean you have our Scáth Force ready?” The Scáth would be an elite force gifted with abilities unlike any witches or warlocks before.
“Almost, and I think you’ll be pleased with what I’ve done so far.” Cathbad stepped back and lifted a finger he pointed at the spot on the stone floor between him and the double doors, which were only for those who could not teleport. “I introduce you to Ossian.”
The shape of a man solidified. He first nodded in acknowledgment of Cathbad, then stood very still as Maeve floated around him. She studied this person Cathbad believed capable of leading a deadly pack of Medb warriors. Short brown hair clipped neatly, hazel eyes that should be darker to fit his Mediterranean face. But the eyes gave him an exotic appeal. He was just six feet tall, but nicely built for an average body that just did manage to fill out the flimsy shirt he wore. Strange clothing.
She turned to Cathbad. “What’s he wearing? Looks like a servant.”
“Those are casual clothes for the masses of this era. They call the ensemble a T-shirt and jeans in the mortal world. Our Scáth must fit in to infiltrate.”
Maeve gave Ossian another sweeping look, picking up nothing that would draw attention or intimidate. “Am I correct in assuming that appearances can be deceiving?”
Cathbad’s lips spread with a smile of true pleasure. “Aye. Our warriors, both male and female, will receive some of the gifts I have bestowed on Ossian. Show your goddess another face and change of clothes, Ossian.”
“Yes, my lord.” Ossian merely turned to face Maeve and in an instant his hair thickened to a rich black, growing to touch below his ears. Thick lashes surrounded eyes the color of a deep sea that smoldered with the promise of sex and his skin deepened to the color of a Moor. He picked up three inches and his body filled out with plenty of muscle to gain the eye of any female.
“Much more impressive,” she murmured.
“The suit he’s wearing now will blend in as that of just another businessman in the mortal world, but will be deadly to the women, no doubt.” Sounding proud as if Ossian were a favored son, Cathbad said, “That’s nothing compared to his other gifts. Now, Ossian, let’s show your goddess what ya can do in battle.”
The warlock disappeared.
Maeve blinked. “Why did you send him away?”
“Did ya not tell me this morning ya did figure out how to view the pit?”
“Yes, I did.” She flashed out of sight for the tiny second it took to teleport to her scrying wall. “Give me a moment.” Lifting her right hand, she whispered words to the wall. Water trembled then cleared and a large room came into view with stone walls, a metal gate built of crossbars as thick as Maeve’s forearm and Ossian standing in the center of the paved stone floor, looking out of place in the battle pit.
“I believe we have a glatisant in our inventory, Maeve.”
“Three actually, but one can take down an army,” she pointed out, having taken inventory of all the creatures she now possessed.
“If it kills Ossian, then I’ll at least know what weaknesses to overcome when I create a new Scáth leader.”
“Very well.” She uttered a word that tasted ancient on her tongue. A rending creak announced the opening of the gate.
Loud barking erupted that sounded as if a pack of hungry dogs approached, picking up volume. A snarling monster emerged, its head and neck shaped as a muddy-brown serpent, but as it continued to enter, the rest of the body was that of a giant leopard with lion-like haunches. It stood eight feet at the shoulders and stretched twenty feet from head to the blunt tail.
Ossian calmly lifted one hand, sliding it from the top of his head, over his face and away. With that motion, he cast aside the physical appearance of a man as his body stretched and shifted until he was nine feet tall. He grew horns that stuck out from each side of his head and his body exploded with muscle. Dense fur grew between his horns and spread down along his shoulders. He stood upright on two cloven hooves, and more fur shagged along his hips and over his groin then feathered out above the hooves. A silver ring hung from his flaring nostrils.
She started laughing. “A minotaur?”
“Mostly, once ya mix it with Medb warlock. A Scáth Minotaur.”
Ossian roared, and the glatisant swiveled its head and opened jaws lined with fangs as it struck at the minotaur. At the last second, before the jaws would have clamped on Ossian’s throat and ripped it to pieces, Ossian swung a boulder-hard fist, knocking the head away.
Vicious barking spiraled through the pit. The glatisant lifted up on its hind legs, ready to throw its feline body down to crush the minotaur.
Ossian opened his jaws and a blast of fire shot forth, flames blanketing the glatisant, whose barking turned into dying cries. When the glatisant crashed to the ground, shuddering, Ossian held out his hand and demanded, “Glaive!”
He closed his fingers around a weapon that resembled a poleaxe except the blade was narrow, and he swung it with a fluid motion to behead the glatisant.
Lifting the bleeding serpent head with one hand, he turned and lifted his chin in Cathbad’s direction even though there was no way for anyone in the pit to view the queen’s room. Ossian called out, “Will that be all my lord and Goddess?”
Cathbad spoke in a normal tone, but the words boomed into the pit. “You’ve earned your meal. Go clean up and enjoy it.”
Maeve closed the viewing port and smiled her admiration at the druid before floating over to her throne. He would follow. Men had always followed her. “Very well done, druid. Now. What about our Alterants and gryphons? How do we get them back from Macha?”
“First we determine that she actually has control of them all. I don’t believe she does since the most powerful gryphon should be leading the flock. We either bring that one to our side or kill it and inform the next one in line of his or her options. It won’t take long at that point to bring the flock to our side.”
“That plan will work only if we can get our hands on the leader.” Maeve settled into the throne that appeared carved of a dragon, an actual beast that Maeve had placed a spell upon to serve as her throne before her death. The other queens had enjoyed its ability to observe when they were out of the room, but with Maeve back in power as a goddess, she could feel the throb of its heart pulse through the structure.
And its anger stirring.
“We’ll get to the leader when the time com
es,” Cathbad assured her. “But for now, what are you and I to do about leaving this place?”
She considered his question, tapping her finger on the arm of her throne. “You wrote the actual prophecy. Are you sure we won’t burst into flames if we teleport out of TÅμr Medb?”
Cathbad grabbed his chin and stared off, thinking. “The spell I placed on it was quite specific so that the consequences of breaking a rule prior to our reincarnation would only affect those we put here to rule until we arrived. We should be able to leave.”
“Should.”
“Yes. Spells are generally literal in execution. I have no guarantee that we will survive teleporting away, but I’m up for the ride.” He grinned at her and she remembered how a druid had come to seduce a goddess.
That sense of adventure was what she enjoyed about Cathbad. He feared nothing, which made him a strong partner as long as they always had the same interest in mind.
Maeve stood and stepped away, catching the dragon’s eyes on her. She told her dragon, “Don’t get excited. Even if I die, you’ll still be bound to spend eternity as a chair.”
His eyes glowed silver.
He should never have crossed her.
Stepping over to Cathbad, she took the hand he extended and told him, “If you’re wrong about this, we may explode the second we arrive in Atlanta. Our combined power could destroy the entire mortal world.”
Cathbad chuckled. “Either way, we’ll finally be done with the Beladors.”
Chapter 16
Blood oozed down Storm’s thigh.
He watched it with morbid fascination. The gash on his leg was trying to heal, but his body could no longer draw on his jaguar’s healing powers.
Not without shifting.
Hanhau had upped his game, sending four demons the last time. Storm doubted that Hanhau had noticed Evalle’s presence when she’d visited, but some of the demons had.