by Ann Gimpel
She picked her way back to the bed, cursing when she stepped on one of the high heels she’d discarded earlier.
“Are you all right?” He sounded worried.
“Uh, yeah. Just stepped on something sharp. Give me a second to get back under the covers. It’s cold in here.” She pulled the duvet up to her chin. “Okay, all set. What’s up?”
“I just got this feeling...” His voice trailed off.
Cassie sat up straighter in bed, not feeling at all sleepy anymore. Something in her friend’s voice was...unsettling. Jeremy was almost her only friend; she’d known him forever. Psychic like her mother, he definitely marched to his own drummer.
“Whatever it is, just spit it out. Sometimes it’s easier that way.”
A sigh rattled through the cellular network. “It’s hard to explain, but I felt something...dark and thought you were in danger.”
Cassie sucked in a breath. For the briefest of moments she considered telling him everything but reined herself in. No point in getting Jeremy riled up about Tyler’s threats. This wasn’t his problem. Besides, she was embarrassed about fessing up to her own stupidity.
Yeah, I was so desperate for a guy to want me, I didn’t read the fine print.
“Cass? You’re pretty silent over there. It’s not making me feel any better.”
“Huh? Oh.” She forced a light laugh. “Tyler held a séance earlier, but I’m sure they’ve mostly left by now. I could go look—”
“No!” The single word thundered in her ear.
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to shout.”
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He cleared his throat. “I probably shouldn’t have bothered you. Promise me you’ll stay in your room until daylight.”
“Sure.” Confusion and an uneasy sensation made her feel ill.
“Call me tomorrow.”
The sick feeling didn’t get any better. Jeremy had never felt the need to check on her before. “I’m spending all day working on e-Ouija.”
“Okay, I’ll call you then. Sleep well, Cassie. Sorry to wake you.”
“Jeremy?”
He wasn’t there. To her surprise, she could barely keep her eyes open. Then she realized he’d probably cast a spell to make sure she stayed in her room.
Damn it.
Last thing I need in my life is two meddling men using magic to control me.
Chapter Two
Jeremy sat on the edge of one of the straight-backed oak chairs that ringed his dining room table, staring at the cell phone in his hand. Cassionetta hadn’t told him everything.
Hell, she barely told me anything.
He slammed a fist down on the table. The circle of lit candles jumped, flames flickering. Jeremy took a deep breath and let it out. Then another one. He had to get his temper under better control, or it would interfere with his seer gift. Needing something to do, he stood, picked up a stick of blood-imbued charcoal, and re-drew the pentagram scribed on the floor around the table. The simple movement calmed him.
He always checked on Cassionetta. Usually around midnight. What he’d found tonight unnerved him. A darkness had settled around the old brick mansion that stank of fae magic interwoven with Irichna demon castings. The Irichna worked for Abaddon, Demon of the Abyss. Evil didn’t get much worse than that.
Even so, he’d paced with the phone in his hand for a while, feeling desperately torn. He owed allegiance to the Druids, which meant his hands were tied, but what about Cassie? He loved her, even though she didn’t know it.
He finally called one of the younger Arch Druids, a Bard, and received the answer he both dreaded and expected: “Do not interfere. This is not your problem. Besides, we have our hands full elsewhere this night.”
“But Eleanora is in that house too.”
“Eleanora isn’t a Druid, either. I told you,” the Bard sounded exasperated, “we have bigger problems. Stand ready to assist if called.”
“Assist with what?”
But the line was dead.
He stared at the cell phone, sick fear gnawing a hole in his guts. Mumbling a hasty prayer to the goddess to forgive him, Jeremy tossed caution to the winds and punched in Cassie’s number. He’d been unspeakably relieved when she answered. The phone had rung so many times, he’d been ready to jump in his car and drive over there. Would have if he hadn’t been able to reach her.
Jeremy belonged to the worldwide Druid Council. He’d petitioned them over and over to be freed from his vows of secrecy, so he could tell Cassionetta more about what had happened to her mother. Never mind telling her the Council was working nonstop to figure out a way to bring Eleanora back before the fae killed her. His pleas were always denied. As was his request to court Cassionetta. Druids married other Druids and that was that. Occasional dispensation was granted to join with other magic wielders, but never to marry one who had no gifts at all.
Worshipping Cassie from afar and settling for just being her friend hadn’t been so bad until Tyler showed up. It had been slow torture to watch her get suckered in by him. He couldn’t stand the thought of her in Tyler’s arms. Let alone the two of them actually making love. When he conferred with other Druids, they counseled him to pray for inner peace and extolled the virtue of acceptance. Jeremy didn’t care much for the inference he was letting weakness get in the way of his duty to his fellow Druids.
He reached for his power, relieved when its sweet, clean tang filled his nostrils. Too keyed up to be still, he emptied his silver scrying bowl at the sink, refilled it with pure spring water, and waited for the surface to settle. Once it did, he chanted, calling up a vision of the front of Cassionetta’s home. It looked better than it had earlier—the darkness had mostly dissipated—so he waved a hand over the water, breaking contact.
Before Eleanora became trapped in the fae realm, they’d often communicated through their scrying pools. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to see inside the house since that monster moved in.
Jeremy paced up and down the generous length of his living room. He lived in an old house on Queen Anne Hill that his uncle, another Druid, had given him before moving back to Ireland. Borrowing a page from Uncle Ian, Jeremy kept the outside of the house looking nondescript to discourage those who might simply drop by. Much of his time was spent working on magical projects assigned by various Arch Druids. As an Ovate, the Council often had need of his seer gift and his ability to think through thorny problems. It wouldn’t do to have strangers walk in on him in the midst of things.
The inside of the house was another matter. Furnished with eighteenth and nineteenth century American antiques, it was a cozy lair, a retreat from a human-saturated world. Still pacing, he stopped long enough to toss another log into the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. It blazed merrily, reminding him of the power of the four elements: fire, water, earth, and air. He sent up a brief prayer to Gaia for his affinity to two of them—fire and earth. Most Druids only controlled one element with any level of proficiency.
His phone trilled. He snatched it up and looked at the caller ID. A frown drew his brows together. Why would Breen, highest of the Arch Druids, be calling? Breen was a master of telepathy. He never resorted to phones.
Suspicious of some sort of demon-spawned trick, Jeremy readied magic to blast whoever was at the other end of the cellular line before cautiously tapping the answer key.
Breen’s unmistakable gravelly voice skipped over amenities. “We have problems. You must come now.”
“Where?” Excitement pinged through him. Jeremy loved a good fight. There was something exhilarating about drawing power from fire and earth, feeling the raw elements thrum through his body.
“Open yourself to me once you are out of doors. My energy will lead you here.” Breen’s tone sharpened. “Do not tarry. Bring your Seraph blade.”
“My Seraph blade? I sensed Irichna demons earlier. Does this have anything to do with—?”
The line hummed; the Arch Druid had hung up. Jeremy dropped the phone into t
he pocket of his corduroy coat. He barked a word, and the magical Seraph blade materialized by his side. He bound it to his upper leg in a thigh sheath. Banking the fire, he ran out the door casting a protect-this-house spell over one shoulder.
The velvety blackness of a moonless, starless night closed over him. A quarter moon was up there, but obscured by clouds. He opened his magic, questing for Breen’s whereabouts. Understanding socked him in the guts, and anxiety threaded with anticipation. The battle wasn’t here. Not on this world. No wonder he hadn’t sensed its emanations. If he hesitated, he’d be lost, so he focused his power, splitting the veil separating Earth from many border worlds.
And came face to face with three Irichna.
Breathtakingly beautiful, with iridescent golden skin and deep whirling pools for eyes, they lured prospects with a song worthy of Odysseus’s Sirens. When their victims came willingly, they sucked their souls free of their bodies and discarded the corpses. It was how they fed.
He ripped his gaze from the Irichna and took in a scene worthy of Hell.
Many Druids he’d known forever lay dead or dying on an endless plain spread beneath a deep violet sky. It was clear the battle had raged for hours, possibly even days. Sorrow for those he’d not see again until the afterlife vied with fear for the Arch Druid, who’d been like a father to him.
Breen strode toward him. Jeremy locked gazes with the older man, taking in his snow white hair, harsh blue eyes, and black monk’s robes. The Arch Druid stood tall, his hands raised channeling power, but he was clearly fading. Slapping up what he hoped were impenetrable wards, Jeremy raced to his side.
“How can I help?”
“Mind link with me. Lend everything you’ve got to this casting. We must stop them here before they do more damage.”
Jeremy didn’t hesitate. Humans didn’t realize it, but Druids stood between them and certain annihilation if Abaddon grew strong enough to loose his crew on the world.
The demons must’ve been weakened by the magic they’d expended. Maybe because Jeremy was fresh, their song, while still compelling, was no longer irresistible. He didn’t stop with linking his powers to the Arch Druid’s casting. He wove himself into the fibers of the working until their magics became indistinguishable.
It was a bold move. If he expended too much of himself, he’d never be able to separate from Breen again. Worse, if one of them died, the other would too. The other Druids who were still on their feet were depleted. None were strong enough to levy more than token resistance.
Jeremy ground his jaws together and strengthened his bond to Breen. All or nothing. No holding back.
The demons worked as a group, lobbing death in a huge circle. Anything they touched went up in greasy, noxious smelling flames. The need to mount a defense practically obliterated offensive maneuvers, and Jeremy bounded from side to side, light on his feet as he kept the demons’ strikes away from both him and Breen.
The border world heaved and groaned beneath him. Clearly the land resented the demons’ presence and wanted them gone as well.
“Help us,” he exhorted, directing his words to whatever guardian held this world. The earth beneath the demons’ clawed rear legs developed a life of its own, and they struggled for balance.
“Yes!” Jeremy met Breen’s exhausted gaze, and the older man nodded back.
“Aye. We’ll take help from any quarter.” Breen refocused power on the middle demon. “Help me corral that one. He’s the strongest.”
The contest was close, so close Jeremy wasn’t certain they’d succeed until they finally contained the demons within a magical net. So much power ran through him, every cell vibrated with the effort of directing it to his bidding. Breen nearly succumbed to the haunting music before they were done. If Jeremy hadn’t been joined to the Arch Druid, the older man would be dead.
“Thank the goddess,” he muttered. He wasn’t certain, but he suspected if the Irichna had won tonight, it would’ve given Tyler the strength he needed to finish off the Ceobbinn women. Maybe that was what the darkness around Cassie’s house had meant.
Indeed. And if I’d died, it would’ve left Cassie and her mother totally vulnerable.
Yeah, but I didn’t.
Resolve straightened his spine, and he curled his lips into a snarl. No one would harm Cassie—or Eleanora—not on his watch.
“We’re not done yet.” Breen directed sharp words at Jeremy.
“No. We’re not.” Jeremy drew the Seraph blade from its thigh sheath. “No wonder you told me I’d need this.”
Breen drew a matching blade from within his robes. Specially forged with goddess blood and dragons’ fire, they were the only weapon effective against Irichna.
“To me!” Breen cried, and the remaining Druids moved to his side, blades flashing. Some limped, some moaned softly as they marshalled what little power they had left to heal their wounds.
He and Breen and the others held the demons at bay with Seraph blades before binding them with iron. They were just finishing with the second demon, when the third one blasted Jeremy with flame and slipped its bonds.
“Fuck!” One of the other Druids cried, sprinting after the fleeing demon.
“Let it go,” Breen ordered. “It will leave this world behind before you can catch it. Besides, we’ll have our hands full killing these two.”
“Yes, Arch Druid.” The other man jogged back to their ragged circle.
“All of you, join your magic to Jeremy’s and mine,” Breen commanded. “Hold it no matter what happens. They’ll try to sing you to insensibility. Draw power to plug your ears if you must.”
Jeremy met Breen’s gaze asking a silent question.
Breen nodded. “You take that one. I’ll manage the other.”
“With pleasure.”
Jeremy closed on his appointed demon, blade at the ready. Its song was beautiful, mesmerizing, but he ignored it, intent on the ritual unfolding by his hand. He sliced both jugular veins. When black blood geysered, coating him in fluid that smelled like a charnel pit, he moved on to the femoral veins. Thank God the fucking song was fading. He felt as if he was killing a helpless child, but recognized it for illusion spawned by the demon trying to save itself.
A glance out of the corners of his eyes told him Breen was doing the same thing.
The other Druids held their spell until all essence was drained from the demons. Turning in upon themselves, they dissipated in a choking cloud of black debris.
Jeremy wiped his blade on shrubbery and shoved it back into its sheath. “Jesus, but I’m glad that’s over.”
“You and me both, lad.” Breen wiped blood from blue eyes that shone with the flush of victory.
“We’ll leave now,” a Druid announced.
“Yes,” another said. “And we’ll take our companions with us. Bad enough they died here. No reason to leave them in this world for eternity.”
Breen just nodded. “Find your homes. We did a good piece of work this night. Tomorrow is soon enough to honor our dead.”
Jeremy waited until everyone was gone, the stench of death and rot thick in his nostrils.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“I tried. Most of my magic was tied up, so my telepathic powers were weak.”
“That was why you used the phone? How did it even work across the veil?”
Breen cracked half a grin. “Who knows? Maybe they have 4G here too. Far more importantly, thank you, lad. I owe you my life. You displayed great courage.” Laying a hand on either side of Jeremy’s head, Breen kissed his forehead and murmured a Celtic prayer.
There’d never be a better chance to get answers out of the usually close-mouthed Arch Druid, so Jeremy said, “The Irichna are linked to the fae, right?”
“Sadly, yes. Why do you care?”
“Because the woman I love is in grave danger, threatened by one of the fae. As is her mother, Eleanora Ceobbinn. Surely you remember her. She’s a Celtic magic wielder, like us. Many of us have bee
n working to free her from fae ensorcellment for this past year.”
“I do recall authorizing that, but it’s been months ago.” Breen met Jeremy’s gaze with eyes that were sad and ancient and worried. “This woman you love is the same one you petitioned the Council about.”
“Yes.”
“We’ll speak of her, but first I’ll answer your questions about the Irichna.” The Arch Druid set his jaw in a hard line. “I figured some things out during this battle, mostly because there were fae here during the early part, and they blab like stuck pigs to save themselves.” He laughed bitterly. “It didn’t work. We killed the ones that didn’t run—after we interrogated them. What they had to say corroborated all our suspicions.
“The fae courted Irichna by feeding them human souls, bartering them for power. It’s possible this particular fae has targeted your lady love, and her mother, for such an exchange.”
Sick horror spread through Jeremy. “Please, Breen. I can’t let that happen. You must let me—”
Breen held up a hand. “You have my blessing, and that of the Council. Do whatever you must to rid the Earth of both demons and fae.”
“Cassionetta?” Jeremy held his breath.
“You’ve loved her for years, son. Follow your heart.”
Jeremy hugged the old Druid hard. “Thank you!”
“Don’t mention it. Now let’s get out of here.” He sheathed his blade and split the veil, motioning Jeremy through ahead of him.
Chapter Three
Cassie rolled over and pried one eye open. Gray, morning light streamed into her bedroom and she realized she hadn’t closed her curtains the night before. Given what an upsetting evening she’d had, she was amazingly rested. She slid across the bed, thinking she’d get out on the side closest to the bathroom. Her foot ran into something. An outraged yowl from Hector told her he’d spent the night on her bed.
“Sorry.” She sat up and scratched his ears. The attention seemed to mollify him, so she headed for the shower. Maybe if she got out of the house early enough, she could sidestep another confrontation with Tyler—at least until she got home tonight.