The Storm Sullivan Saga: The Emerald Seer Series Box Set

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The Storm Sullivan Saga: The Emerald Seer Series Box Set Page 73

by Violet Patterson


  “Would you rather die, Uncle?” Storm frowned. This was not going to be as easy as she’d hoped.

  He laughed in her face. “And how do you propose to do that? You fed your power into me, how will you defend yourself?”

  “Not all of my power, I just spent enough to overwhelm you. You cannot hope to contain it let alone use it.” Storm thrust the book at him again. “Of course, you could just touch the book and be free.”

  “It was painful, I admit, but the power is exhilarating.” Nuada flexed his fingers. “And I am quite sure I can use the power effectively. Want to see?”

  Storm held up her hand. “I can restart the visions, Uncle. The best ones were just about to start.” Storm glowered at him. “I am offering you a way out, the alternative is death. You know you cannot maintain that much power. If I force the issue it will be quite painful.”

  “Oh, but I can and I will. I win. I finally have –“ Nuada broke off as a tremor rolled through his body. He shook his head and tried again but a bolt of emerald light flickered out of his hand. Nuada ignored it and tried to speak again but a second beam of light exploded from the side of his face. His eyes went wide with shock.

  “It has begun.” Storm shook her head. “There is not much time for me to stop it, Uncle. Don’t you want to see her again?”

  “She left me.” Nuada spat at her as another beam of light burst from the side of his neck.

  “She had no choice. You saw what you’d become. You saw what you did to her.” Storm frowned.

  Nuada grimaced then his face went slack and his eyes appeared chocolate brown with no sign of red. “Was it a boy or a girl?”

  “A girl. You’ve seen her, actually.” Storm continued to push the book closer to him.

  Nuada tremored and the flaming red color returned to his eyes. Then his head jerked and his eyes flashed several times. As they returned to the warm, rich brown color, Nuada whispered a pained “How?”

  “She has been around.” Storm chose her words carefully. Something was happening to her enemy and she recognized the extreme danger.

  Nuada’s head dropped, hanging limp on his neck and Storm could see green light coursing just beneath his skin. His muscles went tense then relaxed several times before a strained whisper escaped Nuada. “I cannot let go of it, my niece.”

  “Yes, you can.” Storm urged him again.

  Nuada’s head jerked up, his eyes blazing crimson and his face contorted in a mask of utter hatred. “You cannot free him, girl.” The voice was guttural and wrong, scratchy and cruel.

  Storm faltered. She realized for the first time what Damarra had meant. Her grandmother had gone in fighting her brother, saw his warm eyes and let her guard down. There was an evil in her uncle and it had a deep hold on him. The book and the ring, she needed them both but how did they work? Think, Storm, think. Stalling, she glared at Nuada and drew herself up, “Who are you?”

  Nuada cackled. “I am older than time and vaster than you can fathom, girl. This is my instrument and you cannot have him. He bound himself to me and to me he holds.”

  Storm realized the way. Without taking her eyes off the enemy, she called out as loud as she could, “Morgaine!”

  “You call another friend to die for you? You should see the bodies strewn across the meadow of your choosing. So many deaths on your hands.” Nuada shook his head. Another bolt of light escaped through his abdomen. Nearly half his body was now illuminated by emerald green light. Storm knew the book was doing it but not why it was necessary.

  “I am here, Storm Sullivan.” Morgaine appeared at her side.

  Storm nodded tightly and threw the new arrival a meaningful glance. She glared at Nuada and in her most commanding voice issued her order, “Show me Nuada, he deserves to meet his daughter just once.”

  Nuada’s body seized as another bolt of light burst forth from his arm. His head shook rapidly, rolling about on his neck as though an internal fight were being waged. Storm glanced at Morgaine and reached out for her hand pressing Damarra’s ring between their palms. Morgaine’s eyes flared with understanding. Storm squeezed so hard that the ring cut both of their palms. The warm blood pooled around the ring and Storm shifted their joined hands over the open pages of the book. Storm was prepared when Nuada’s head lifted to reveal the warm eyes of Morgaine’s father. He blinked at her, “Where is she?”

  “I am here, father.”

  Nuada’s head tilted toward the voice of his daughter and his features softened. Tears welled in his eyes as he recognized her. “You look like your mother.”

  “Yes.” Morgaine seemed to be holding back her own tears.

  Storm looked away, focusing on the blood dripping onto the pages of the book, whirling and blending with the parchment to form runes she could not read. She released Morgaine’s hand and slipped Damarra’s ring in her pocket. She wanted to save Nuada, she wanted a happy ending. Dammit. How could she trick him into giving up the ring with his blood in it? It was the only thing that wouldn’t be tainted by whatever held him and she needed it. Even now there was little of Nuada’s body not overrun by the emerald light and the spell in the book was beginning to work. Hell. She’d just make a go of it. Storm moved fast, snaking her arm out to snatch hold of Nuada’s ring-bearing hand. She ripped the ring free as Nuada’s head whipped around to stare at her, shock mingling with fury as his eyes became rimmed in crimson. It stuck on his knuckle for just a second but she tore it off as Nuada’s eyes turned full red. Storm leapt backward as Nuada sliced at her. Instead, he knocked Morgaine to the side. She landed hard on the floor and hit her head on the wall, crumpling into a ball. Everything happened quickly after that. Roane and Damarra leapt in front of her, barring Nuada’s charge. Her grandmother created a shield and Storm skidded to her knees beside Ryder.

  “What are you doing?” Ryder’s voice quaked with worry.

  “I know what I’m doing, Ry. Trust me.” Storm knocked the ring against the floor trying to dislodge the jewels.

  “That will not work, dear.” Damarra’s voice carried back, strained from the effort she was putting into the shield. “Hurry, now. I cannot hold him much longer.”

  Storm screamed at the page, “How!?” The blood runes swirled but revealed nothing. Dammit! Storm stared at the ring, a bit larger than her grandmother’s, in fact, Damarra’s could probably fit inside Nuada’s. Storm pulled the ring from her pocket and slid it into Nuada’s there was a click and then the rings released two drops of blood onto the page. Storm watched in awe as they rolled and twisted over the pages to align the blood runes.

  “Storm!” Damarra choked out her name as she and her shield collapsed. Roane leapt in front of Nuada to protect his mate and landed a few good hits before he was flung across the room and suspended mid-way up the wall. Ryder was already on his feet but Storm was faster. She jumped in front of him and thrust her hand out stopping Nuada in his tracks. The fury burning in those red eyes only served to feed Storm’s confidence. She could do this. Storm held the book out and the words of the spell seemed to rise up to her. With a jolt, the words clicked into place and tumbled off her lips in rapid succession.

  Nuada’s eyes flew wide and his mouth formed a silent shriek of pain as the beams of light withdrew into him and rolled around beneath his skin, pulsing and probing as it coursed through him. Thick, black smoke began filtering from his mouth and nose, tendrils that tried to flee but found themselves sucked into the book where they were devoured by the blood runes. Storm watched with morbid fascination as the dark tendrils fought the spell in the book, whipping and cracking as they were pulled toward the spine by an unseen force. The crackling red lightning came last, fighting to stay with Nuada and hissing as it hit the pages of the book. As the last ripple of red disappeared into the binding, Storm slammed the book shut.

  “Lock!” She shouted at the cover and two massive iron locks appeared. The book began to jump in her hands but Storm clung to it.

  “You must contain it.” Nuada’s voice quake
d with weariness as he collapsed into unconsciousness.

  “How?” Storm fought to hold the book as it lurched and wove trying to free itself.

  “Bless it.” The White Lady appeared beside her, placing a hand on top of Storm’s.

  “With what?” Storm looked around. There wasn’t a lot in here to bless anything with. No herbs or flowers or incense or waters of any kind.

  “Just say the words. I will help you.” The White Lady placed her other hand on the book, locking onto Storm’s eyes. “Bind the darkness to this tome. By the strength and wisdom of the Tuatha De, the grace and goodness of the Gods and Goddesses of old, and the sacrifices of our Emerald Seer, bless this book, let light take hold.” The White Lady nodded to Storm to repeat the blessing. She stumbled over the words a bit as she tried to hold the book steady. It fell still when she finished. Storm looked from the book to the White Lady and back again.

  “Is that it?” Storm tapped at the cover of the book.

  “Yes and no.” The White Lady released her hold on the book. “It must always be hidden, protected from any who would tamper with it as Nuada did so many years ago.”

  “That’s how this started? With a book like this?” Storm stared at the White Lady incredulously.

  “Not a book like this, this book exactly.” The White Lady frowned. “He found it. He opened it. He unlocked the darkness within it. The book must be kept safe where it cannot be found again. I no longer know of such a place.”

  Storm grinned. “I do. I know just the place.”

  Angeline

  Everything stopped. She was leaping through the air toward a hybrid that was trying to sneak up on one of the great bears when it happened. Some invisible force ceased her momentum and stuck her in the air. Angeline tried to open her wings but she could not move. A strange silence fell over the meadow and it was over. The invisible force fell away and she fell with it – right into the furry arms of a massive black bear.

  Angeline looked up into the grisly face, maw covered with blood and remnants of things she didn’t want to think about. His hair was matted in several places and there seemed to be an arrowhead protruding from his shoulder, but his eyes were warm and kind. She knew him by his eyes. “Hi Fred.”

  The bear whimpered an almost human sound and then gave out a roar that reverberated through Angeline’s body.

  “It’s me, Fred. Can you put me down though, you’re getting blood all over me.” Angeline smirked, trying to prove herself to her friend. This was going to be the hardest part about coming back. She had seen how Lucian looked at her. How would she explain? There was so much she could never tell. The massive bear set her on the ground and the air around him shimmered until Frederick stood before her.

  “Ang?” Frederick’s eyes bored into hers and she just smiled at him. “Am I dead?”

  Angeline laughed, a true, whole-hearted laugh that she’d rarely been capable of in her old life. “No, you’re not dead!”

  “Then, how? What is going on?” Frederick looked around them then and Angeline followed his gaze. All around them people were disappearing. People were there and then they weren’t. Then she understood. They were being sent back. It was all over and they were going to find out who won.

  “Just hold on, Fred.” Angeline reached out and took her friend’s hand. She clung to it as they were sucked upward. Her last thought was to hope she was returning to Dan as she’d promised.

  Lucian

  The silence descended on Willow Wood swiftly and unexpectedly but not a moment too soon. The Angels were looking gaunt, their normally luminescent wings fading to dusky hues. Lucian didn’t think they could hold the protections much longer. Then the banging had ceased with a shrill cry. The house stopped shaking with one final lurch.

  Sophia sat up with a start. “What happened? Is it over?”

  The Angels exchanged glances with each other and then with him. Nobody moved as they strained to listen. “I don’t hear anything.” Dan whispered urgently, scanning the line of broken windows for movement. There was none.

  “What do we do?” Sophia whispered in his ear.

  Lucian didn’t respond. He handed her the babe in his arms and crept to the edge of the white flame circle. He met the beast’s eye and it nodded. Sophia protested but Lucian gave her an apologetic look and mouthed “I have to.”

  A gap opened in the circle allowing Lucian and the Angels to creep out. They slunk along the wreckage of toppled books and lamps, avoided the larger pieces of the shattered windows and slipped out the back of the house. One of the Angels gasped at the sight before them. Bodies were strewn about broken tree limbs and the flagstones from the patio were cast haphazardly about revealing the damaged earth beneath. As they crept around to the side of Willow Wood, they heard a soft moan coming from behind the massive lilac bushes. Shane tapped Lucian on the shoulder and gestured for him to move on then slipped behind the bushes. Lucian kept close to the edge of shrubs with Dan on his heels. He scanned the grounds, choking back the bile in his throat at the gory remnants of the battle.

  “I had no idea it would be this bad here.” Dan whispered.

  Lucian did not respond. Blocking his progression was the body of the young witchling. Her abdomen gaped open with half of its contents displaced and her head hung at a grotesque angle. Then he noticed the demon head in one limp hand and just out of each of her other hand was a long, thin blade. Lucian kicked the head away with more force than necessary causing it to bounce several times before rolling to a stop. He scooped the tiny body into his arms with great care. Dan looked at him questioningly. “I can’t leave her like that.” Lucian retorted through gritted teeth. He tucked the girl’s body close to his chest and let Dan take the lead. They skulked along the side of the house, on guard for straggling enemies and hoping to find some surviving allies.

  The front of Willow Wood had received the brunt of the damage. Half of the manor’s face had been torn away exposing badly damaged rooms littered with more body parts and corpses. The lawn showcased mounds of bodies, most of them concentrated in two large piles. Nothing moved. There was no breeze and the metallic scent of blood mixed with sulfur was overwhelming. The front gate lay in shambles around gaping holes in the trees and vines that the wood sprites had labored over for so long.

  “It’s going to take months to repair this damage.” Lucian regarded the garage area which seemed to have survived more or less intact, a small solace.

  “If we even have a reason to repair it.”

  Lucian spun and growled at Dan. “Do not say such things to me. Ryder and Storm will come back and this place will be cleaned up and they will raise those girls here.”

  “You know I want that as well, Lucian.” Dan looked mournfully across the lawn. “But we have to prepare for the possibility that they don’t make it back.”

  “No. We. Don’t.” Lucian ground his teeth. Storm and Ryder would make it back. It was just a matter of when. He knew deep down that they had made it.

  A shriek echoed from the back of the house. Lucian didn’t wait for the Angel before sprinting, witchling bobbing in his arms, toward the sound. He skidded to a halt as he rounded the back corner of the manor and nearly collided with two figures leaning on each other. The back yard of the manor was filled with supernaturals, most of them wounded by the looks of it.

  “What the hell?” Dan landed at his side, wings flapping as if prepared for battle.

  The two people Lucian nearly collided with turned. One was Dorian and he was supporting a gravely wounded vampire whose neck had been shredded from ear to ear. Dorian appeared largely unscathed, a few cuts and bruises that were already healing. Then Lucian noticed the smoke rising from his sleeve, the one exposed to the random sunbeam breaking through the bent and broken arbors. That explained the shriek. It was terrible timing for the vampires to return. Dan’s eyes flew wide with understanding. He ran inside and began pulling the heavy curtains from the wreckage to set up a canopied pathway to the house. Lucian followe
d Dorian and his injured companion into the study. They shuffled toward the hall and several more vampires followed suit. Some found the way barred and skittered toward the outside of the house where Dan was covering them with the heavy curtains. That was a good sign. Storm still had to be alive. Lucian carried the body of the witchling to the hearth where he laid her gently on the rug. He folded her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. A few more vampires shuffled in and there were several more shrieks outside as some of their kin failed to reach shelter from the midday sun.

  “I think you can let down the flame now.” Lucian stepped toward the ring of fire and waited for it to admit him. The beast peeked over the back of the couch it shared with his mate and shook its head.

  “She will not let it down until Storm and Ryder return.” Sophia spoke so quietly he hardly heard her. The babes still slept, their tiny eyes flicking beneath their lids as they dreamt, unaware of the horror around them.

  “They’re alive, Sophia.” Lucian touched her shoulder. “Some of the vamps cannot enter.”

  “I know they are, Luc. I know. But she will not release her protection over the girls until they arrive.” Sophia shook her head. “She fears there is still danger until Storm and Ryder return.”

  Lucian did not like the beast but he knew better than to question it. “Fair enough. I am going to help. There are a lot of wounded out there.”

  The manor began to quake again. An earth-shattering rumble causing the entire house to shift and roll as though it were going to collapse. Lucian took hold of the back of the couch and moved to shield Sophia and the girls. The quake ceased as suddenly as it started and everything fell still once more.

  “What was that?” Sophia whispered. They didn’t move for several minutes, listening. A low moan emanated from outside but they stayed within the beast’s flames. The moan grew louder followed by a shushing sound. When the moan did not stop, somebody or something took matters into their own hands as a loud crack silenced the moaner. Sophia inhaled sharply.

 

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