Remnants of Magic (The Sidhe Collection (Urban Fantasy))

by S. Ravynheart

  “And just what’re you going to do with me? What’s the big plan? Take out your revenge against Rico on me, who’s never done one thing against you? You’re going to kill me?”

  “I’m going to make you give me the Touch.”

  “Is that all?” Kieran snorted. “You just want the Touch? Nothing else?”

  “Nothing else. Just the Touch. Just make this longing go away.”

  “Okay, sure. Pull over. I’ll Touch you.”

  London furrowed her brows. “Just like that? You’ll just give me your Touch?”

  “Sure. If that’s all you want. I’ll give you the Touch and you let me go. Call it a day.”

  London pulled over onto the shoulder of the road. She shifted the car into park, unbelted herself, and turned around to look at him. “You’ll Touch me?”

  “Yes.”

  She reached out and cupped his cheek, the only bare skin she could easily reach. She braced herself for the impact of the magic. She trembled with the anticipation of the wash of pleasure that would lift her out of her despair and carry her away like a riptide. Only nothing happened. Her thumb caressed the smooth skin over his high, defined cheekbone. “Touch me.”

  “Small problem.” He shrugged. “Silver prevents magic.”

  “If I remove the cuffs, you’ll vanish. Teleport away.”

  “No, I won’t.” Even as he said it, London knew he was lying. His expression gave him away. Eyebrows raised a little too high. His eye contact was too focused, unblinking and not shifting in the slightest. The pitch of his voice rose when he protested.

  “You’re lying.” London turned around and dropped into her seat. She shifted back into drive.

  “No, I’m not!” he insisted. “I’m not, really! Just let me out of the cuffs and I’ll Touch you.”

  London pulled back onto the highway as soon as the traffic cleared. “I’ve studied microexpressions. You have all the classic signs.”

  “Awe, come on!” Kieran struggled against the seatbelt and the cuffs, throwing himself about and growling with frustration.

  “Be still or you’ll hurt yourself.” London accelerated up to speed.

  Kieran leaned forward again, as close as he could with the restraints. “If you won’t trust me when I’m not wearing silver, then how the bloody hell do you think you’re ever going to get the Touch from me?”

  He had a good point. Damn it.

  Normally, she was more levelheaded. Normally, she would have thought out her plan well in advanced. Thus far, all she could think of was finding and catching a Sidhe. Now that she had one, she wasn’t sure what to do with him. Or more importantly, how to get the Touch she needed without giving him a chance to escape.

  London fumbled in her jacket pocket for her cell phone. She dialed Selena’s number. The day was late. Some of the cars on the road even turned their headlights on in anticipation of dusk. Perhaps the vampire mistress would already be awake.

  No such luck. London left a message in her voicemail. “Hey, I’m going out to the manor. Call me when you get this.”

  “Listen to me, lady. You better just let me go right now. You don’t know the trouble that will come for you.”

  “Are you referring to this Donovan that everyone is whispering about?” London turned off on the next exit, following the road farther away from civilization. “Even he won’t be able to find you where we’re going.”

  Chapter Three

  The headlights illuminated the path and the overgrown verge only a few feet ahead of the car. Reaching blades of grass arched into the trail and slapped against the sides of the car as they bumped along toward the manor. Finally, the pathway opened into the lawns that surrounded the manor, the outbuildings, and the moon garden that curved around the side and back of the main building. The motion detectors flicked on the electric floodlights in the courtyard. London stopped a few feet from the front porch. “This should work perfectly.” She switched off the engine. “Selena has wards against teleportation and Glamour.”

  She retrieved her gun from the door of the car and then holstered it at her lower back. Taut with the expectation of a struggle, she went around to the other side of the car to fetch the Sidhe. Bracing her forearm against Kieran’s chest, she reached across him and released his safety restraint. Then she drew out her gun and kept it down by her side, ready to use if need be.

  “Alright, Kieran. Get out. Slowly.”

  “No.” He sat there as though he intended on sitting there for the rest of his life.

  She raised the gun and aimed it low, at a leg. “Get out.”

  “Are you going to shoot me now? After all this trouble to snatch me? Risk killing me, when you need me so desperately? I think not.”

  “Kieran, get out of the car.” She reached in and grabbed a handful of his shirt.

  He twisted away and kicked out, catching her hip and driving her back. The power of it sent her falling backward. Before she could recover he caught the door with his foot and slammed it shut. He shouldered the latch into place, locking it.

  London smacked the window with the flat of her hand in frustration. “Damn it!”

  Without the seatbelt pinning him, Kieran moved quick as a pixie. He slipped his bound hands under his bum and brought them up before him. In his haste to climb into the front seat, his hand hit the car horn, the blast of it startlingly sharp in the silence of the countryside. London dove for the front door, but he beat her to it, locking it.

  “I have the keys, you know!” She fumbled for them in her pocket even as Kieran bent under the dash and started hotwiring it.

  “Selena?” A voice called from the manor.

  London scrambled with her keys, jamming the right one into the lock. Kieran grabbed the latch from the inside so the key refused to turn. Risking a glance over her shoulder, London recognized the man framed in the doorway. As he stepped out onto the porch, more people filtered out after him. “Stephan?” The engine made an attempt to turn over, then died. “No!” London tried the key again, but Kieran gripped the latch when she went for it.

  “Having a spot of trouble?” Stephan laughed. With the merest gesture four of his wolves vaulted over the railing. They charged the car before London could protest. One of them gripped the edge of the hood and flung it upward, breaking the metal latch. Even as the engine tried to kick over again, he tore away the distributor cap and wires and flung them toward the bushes. The other three wolves descended upon her car, shoving her out of the way. Both front doors were ripped from their hinges and cast aside. Kieran fought, but to no avail. They flung him down to the ground before Stephan. Kieran made to scramble up, but two of the wolves tackled him and forced him back down onto his hands and knees.

  Stephan dropped down each step on the porch with a heavy thud of his boots, and the effect of it was like a judge’s gavel, silencing the growls of his men. “London, I see Selena’s keeping your hands full. Did she send you all by yourself with this treat?”

  London crossed between him and her prey. “Stephan, this one’s not for you.”

  “Surely Selena would not deny her guests the full hospitality of her home.” He grinned at her, the wolfish canines all too evident. Not the fine points of the vampire fang, these fangs were designed to rend flesh, not cleanly pierce a vein.

  London drew her weapon. “This prey is mine.” The growls around her answered her challenge. She was alone, trying to defend the prey she’d caught. They were a pack, with the power and determination to take it from her.

  Stephan only laughed and then inclined his head toward her trashed car. “You aren’t taking him out of here in that.” He inhaled deeply. “Fey? Now what could a human want with a fey? Did you swipe him from Selena’s stash?”

  “This one is mine. I caught him.” She squared off with Stephan, raising the gun toward him. “Silver bullets, Stephan. I suggest you back off. Now!”

  He tilted his head at her, winter-blue eyes watching her, gauging her. “What do you want with him? Selena has
n’t embraced you, has she? You don’t want his blood, so what, then?”

  “I need him for his magic. I’ll die without it. Don’t think I won’t kill for it. Stephan, please. You care about Selena, and so do I. Let’s not quarrel.”

  Stephan’s eyebrows rose. “His magic? Just what manner of fey have you snared, London Lassie?” He sidestepped her to get a better look, but she moved to stay between him and Kieran.

  Her need to protect Kieran spiked like an unreasonable fury within her. “Stephan, back off!”

  “Sidhe?” His eyes practically shined with the guess. “You’ve been Touched?” Stephan tisked. “Careless of you.”

  A body blow struck her from behind. The impact knocked the gun out of her hand with enough force to send it bouncing into the high grass. The collision with the ground drove the breath from her lungs. Stephan’s wolf drew her hands behind her and then forced her to kneel beside Kieran. London gasped, still struggling to reclaim her breath. “Stephan! You know I’m Selena’s friend. Don’t do this!”

  He waved off her concern. “London, no one will harm you. Just prevent you from harming anyone else. Nor will we slay your precious Sidhe.” Stephan crouched before the fey. Gripping a handful of Kieran’s hair, Stephan yanked his head back until he bore his throat. He sniffed Kieran’s neck, and then growled hungrily. His nose brushed through the Sidhe’s hair as he inhaled his scent. “No, we would never slay a prey as desirable as the Sidhe.”

  “Let him go, Stephan!” London jerked her shoulders away from her captor, but he recovered his grip on her before she could escape. “Your wolves will turn feral at the scent of Sidhe blood, much less the taste. They will kill him!”

  At her warning, Kieran struggled, but it only heightened the excitement of the wolves. If he broke free, they would instinctively run him to ground, and then there would be no saving him from slaughter. She shouted, “Kieran, be still! Yield! Submit or they’ll tear you apart right here!”

  Although still gasping frantically, he stopped the struggle. With his eyes squeezed closed, Kieran let him keep his throat arched toward Stephan, the sign of submission to which the canine mentality responded predictably. The snarls from the wolves calmed. London might only have what little knowledge of the fey she’d managed to glean since Rico cursed her, but she knew wolves and vamps better than many knew themselves.

  The growl from Stephan, at the throat arched before him and the stillness of the yielding prey, sounded almost as sexual as it was bloodthirsty. He might have had his prey right there, in the open air with the wild scents around them, if London hadn’t warned him of the dangers. Instead, Stephan ordered, “Bring them.”

  They hustled London ahead, so she couldn’t see Kieran, though she imagined they manhandled him as roughly. She heard Stephan order, “Take him upstairs. Lock her in the basement.”

  London fought to escape, though it was wasted effort. The wolves had height and strength on her, not to mention fangs and claws when they wanted them. Right now, they all remained in human form. Just more proof that they didn’t think her a threat. They shoved her through the basement doorway. Had she not been prepared, she might have tumbled down the stairs, possibly getting injured in the process. Instead, she caught the railing. By the time she recovered her balance and charged the door they slammed it in her face. London pounded on it. “Stephan! Let me out!” The wolves outside laughed at her futile effort, but she didn’t care. Let them think they’d trapped her.

  London jogged down the steps as quietly as she could, digging her cell phone from her pocket. She dialed Selena again. “Come on. Come on. Pick up.”

  The basement appeared like most any other at a casual glance. Selena had the manor specially designed and constructed a few decades ago. The concrete walls and floor secured from easy access and from inadvertent light exposure. Loads of old furniture and boxes littered the area, making the basement seem like nothing but storage space. London knew better though. Vampires watched the old movies; they knew the would-be-slayers liked to corner them in basements and other such places. While it provided a good bunker against light and attack, no vamp wanted to get cornered like that. Selena least of all.

  The cell phone couldn’t keep a signal so London switched it to ‘silent mode’ and stuffed it into her pocket. Along the back basement wall a bank of shelves held all manner of tools and bits of hardware. London grabbed the hidden switches that released the secret door and swung the entire shelving unit open on silent hinges.

  The rooms beyond provided a safe place to hole up for the daylight hours in comfort. The two bedrooms, one on either side of the hallway, might be a little dusty, but they were still elegant. Nothing in Selena’s living quarters was ever anything but plush, even her fallout shelter. The closet at the end of the hall stashed a small arsenal of weapons. London holstered one at the small of her back, another under her blazer beneath her left arm. She’d selected the non-silver bullets. She wasn’t out to kill the wolves, or the Sidhe in the crossfire, just wound them if she needed to. They’d heal up soon enough and wouldn’t hold too much of a grudge for it, considering this was a justified battle over prey rights, at least to the mindset of the wolves.

  Through the hatch at the end of the hall, London found a narrow passage leading straight up. The ladder fixed into the wall carried her from the basement up to a covered, faux chimney. She climbed out and used the uneven bricks for hand and footholds to descend to the roof. London checked her phone again. At least she had a signal now. She dialed Selena.

  Selena answered immediately. “London, why are you going to the manor? You’ve never gone to the safe house before. I’ve loaned it to Stephan while he’s visiting.”

  “So I’ve noticed. Selena, I caught a Sidhe. Stephan’s taken him from me.” London eased her way down the roof, heading for the trellis.

  Selena released a long string of colorfully blended curses. “We’re on our way.” The line cut off. London stared at the screen on her phone until it went black, acknowledging the end of the call. This was bad. Worse than she’d expected. Selena had said ‘we.’ She meant to come in force, with enough vampires to handle a houseful of crazed werewolves whacked out on the magic in the Sidhe’s blood. Not the phone call to Stephan asking him politely to hand over her prey and send her about her business that she’d hoped for. The Sidhe were rare, nearly extinct after the Collapse of the Mounds, and it looked seriously like this one was about to spark a race war to claim him.

  ‘Oops’ didn’t begin to cover this screw up.

  Chapter Four

  London crept down the trellis to the second floor veranda. The motion detector lights had switched off and only the stray light from inside cast a faint illumination out into the pitch of the night. Even still, she crouched low and moved on the balls of her feet, quick and silent. The first window looked into Selena’s master bedroom, right next to her vanity. London peeked inside.

  The window had been partially raised. Selena never installed screens. The upper half of the bed was the only thing she could see and it was vacant. The voices from within reached her easily, though from this angle she couldn’t see anyone. She heard a startled hiss through teeth, and then Kieran said, “Ah! You know what? Huh? How about we talk about this, you know? Maybe… Maybe work a deal, right?”

  London poked her head inside, ever so slowly. Leaning in just far enough to glimpse past the vanity’s mirror, she could barely see someone’s back, but then he stepped forward out of view. She heard the sneer in Stephan’s voice. “What do you have to offer that I can’t simply rip from you?”

  London jolted back at the sound of fabric tearing violently. She couldn’t help but wince at the sound of Kieran’s outcry.

  “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.” She hissed under her breath. She ducked down and hurried to the next window in the line. This one overlooked the room from the other side of the bed.

  “You’re right. You’re right,” Kieran said, desperation making his words tumble out in a jumbled rush. �
�You could just tear me to shreds, but you don’t want to do that, right? Right? You don’t want to kill me, right? You want to keep me around for a while. But here’s the thing; if you spill my blood you’re going to have a real mess on your hands. I mean, not my blood, which would be a mess, yeah. But a much bigger mess, right? Like that lass said, your buddies will go ballistic, right? Come charging in here and kill you and me both, most likely. Have you seen what the smell of Sidhe blood can do to a wolf? Huh? I have. Trust me, you don’t want to go there. Seriously. Trust me on this. You gotta trust me on this!”

  Oh, geez. If talking his way out of this was all he had, Kieran was as good as dead. London’s heart shuddered with a fear unlike anything she’d ever known. No time to question it. No time to fight against it. Even if it meant her life, she couldn’t let Stephen kill Kieran.

  London rose from her crouched position to peek in through the second window. From here she could see everything. The chain of Kieran’s handcuffs had been slung over a light fixture high on the wall, stretching his arms over his head. His shirt was in tatters. Apparently, Stephen enjoyed tormenting his prey. The wolf lightly dragged his claws from Kieran’s right shoulder diagonally across his smooth chest, but didn’t draw blood yet. The Sidhe flinched away, gasping at the hint of pain and anticipation of worse. Stephan deliberately primed Kieran with adrenaline. No doubt that would only make the effects of the magic-laced blood hit harder when he finally consumed it.

  Stephan ignored Kieran’s babble. His voice practically purred with a hungry growl. “Should I take the blood from your neck? Or straight from the source?” He placed a claw against Kieran’s jaw and turned his head to the side.

  As his head tilted, the Sidhe’s gaze hit London. The force of those eyes sent something rushing through her. Desperation. She had to get him out of there. She raised her fingers to her lips, a gesture for him to stay silent.

  His eyes narrowed, not trusting her. The panic sweat glistened on his skin, making him shine in the light. So perfect and handsome. Stephan wouldn’t leave him like that and London figured Kieran knew it as well as she did. Unlike vampires, werewolves didn’t feed from single fang pricks. They fed from open gashes.