How had they found her? How did they even know about her?
Fury laced her fear and somehow tangled in the threads of her power. She felt something new … something old pulse within her, strengthen. As if her power was centering itself. Staring hard at the incoming helicopter, she sent one more bolt of lightning at her enemies and this time she scored a hit. A small, jagged bolt slapped the tail rotor of the chopper, sending the machine into an uncontrolled spin. Torn between elation and fear, Teresa watched as the pilot struggled for control. She didn’t want to kill anyone, but damned if she’d stand still and be shot, either.
The pilot recovered, the chopper continued on and the gunman took up position again. Teresa braced herself for the inevitable.
She looked up into the face of death—the incoming chopper—and lived.
A wall of fire appeared in front of her and the bullets flying at her embedded themselves in the flames instead. Teresa staggered back in surprise, looked up and met the pale gray eyes of a warrior. Fire surrounded his body, enveloping him in a living wall of flame. His features were drawn tight in concentration and his muscled body swayed with the impact of more bullets, but still he stood between her and danger.
“Hold on to me,” the stranger ordered.
Teresa didn’t even think about it. She jumped into the fire that covered the man, hooked her arms around his neck and shouted, “Go, go, go!”
And in another bright flash of flames they were gone.
Chapter 2
Rune felt an immediate drain on his strength reserves, but fought past it. The fools in the helicopter had known enough to use white-gold bullets in their guns and the man-made metal alloy was affecting his magic.
Pain was nothing new to him. Centuries of existence had inured him to it. And despite the agony of white-gold bullets tearing up his back, as an immortal he would survive. If those bullets had hit Teresa instead, his witch would be dead.
And the world would not have survived his fury.
Flashing his woman to a small house on the edge of Sedona, Rune held her a moment longer than necessary. He’d waited years for this. Had hungered for the feel of her pressed along his body. Through the pain dragging at him, Rune braced himself for his witch’s panic. Her questions. Her fear.
“What took you so long?” she demanded. Pushing out of his arms, she glanced at her surroundings, then glared up at him. “Those guys nearly killed me.”
Despite the pain of his bullet wounds, astonishment rose up. He hadn’t counted on this. Hadn’t expected it. He was prepared to deal with her panic. Her confusion over what was happening to her. Grimly, he acknowledged that he hadn’t been looking forward to a hysterical female. He remembered all too well how only last month his fellow Eternal Torin had been driven to distraction by his mate, Shea. Torin had had his hands full trying to protect her from both her enemies and her own refusal to accept her new reality.
His own mate, it seemed, was not only aware of the situation but felt free to condemn him for a perceived slight. Annoyance chewed at him even as he scowled at her accusation.
“You know who I am?”
“Yeah.” She took a breath and blew it out in an indignant rush. Then she pushed her tangled black hair out of her eyes and brushed at the sand nearly covering all of her. “You’re my Eternal, right? Supposed to be my bodyguard for the big ‘quest’?”
More than annoyance ran through Rune now as he tried to make sense of her reaction. The pain in his back was a distraction, but it was not enough to stop the hundreds of questions racing through his mind.
“I am Rune and yes, I am your Eternal,” he said, his frown deepening. “How can you know about this? Your powers have only just awakened.”
“And were nearly snuffed out,” she added, taking the time to have a thorough look around her. “If you had taken any longer to show up—”
“I had to wait until your true power erupted.”
“That was three days ago,” she snapped.
“No.” Rune reached out, cupped her chin. The tingle of her skin on his almost deadened the pain ratcheting up from the white-gold bullets that were slowly draining his magic. He fought past the pain, the slow drag on his power, and said, “Your magic quickened three days ago. Your awakened power happened only today—when you gathered your strength and managed to hit the helicopter. Now, tell me, how do you know of Eternals?”
“My abuela,” she said, then shrugged and translated. “My grandmother.”
“I know the word,” he assured her. Suddenly he understood a lot more about his witch. Of course Teresa’s grandmother would have known. Witches throughout the centuries had handed down the knowledge of the last great coven. Teresa’s ancestors would have passed along the legends of atonement and of the Awakening—when the reincarnated witches would reclaim their magic and try to set right what had once gone so wrong.
He knew that Teresa’s grandmother was a powerful witch herself. Of course she would have prepared her granddaughter for her destiny.
This meeting wasn’t going at all as he’d expected it to. For years, he’d kept watch over her. He had done so for centuries, through every one of her incarnations. In this life, she was—as always—obstinate and independent.
He looked at her now, his gaze moving up her lush body until it finally locked onto her steady gaze. He saw pride there, and self-confidence. But beneath those traits he recognized in her, there was also a touch of vulnerability that called to him. Brought out every protective instinct he possessed.
With the time of the Awakening upon them, Rune had felt the pull of her soul to his more strongly than he ever had before. In all the past centuries, he had been torn between his undeniable need for her and the longsimmering rage at her coven for what they had brought upon them all.
If she and her sisters had not hungered for power … none of this would have happened. They had thirsted for knowledge that came at too high a price. He and Teresa would have mated centuries ago and this time of Awakening would never have been necessary.
What, he wondered, would the world have been like if only his witch and her sisters had chosen wisely? And how could he get beyond his old anger to accomplish what they now must?
“My grandmother told me you’d be coming,” Teresa said, and Rune’s wandering thoughts arrowed in on her again. “She didn’t mention the fire, though. For a minute when I saw you, I thought I’d stumbled into a vortex.”
Teresa pulled away from his touch and Rune let her go. For now. Though his fingertips itched for the feel of her. Despite her bravado, Teresa’s fear was so thick he could sense it, graying her aura, fraying the edges of her control and patience. But her strength was more than a match for that fear, he told himself, pleased at the set of her squared shoulders and the defiant tilt of her chin.
She would need that strength and more in the coming days.
“You really took your time riding to the rescue,” she said softly, scraping her hands up and down her arms as if looking for warmth.
“You were never in real danger,” he told her, stung by her accusation. Hadn’t he been watching over her for centuries? From one incarnation to the next, she had never been out of his reach. “I was nearby.”
“Right.” She dropped her hands to her sides and frowned down at the sand that still clung to her clothing. Nodding to herself, she took another deep breath and asked, “So where are we?”
He winced at the pain in his back. “In a house near the edge of Sedona.”
“Whose is it?” she asked, instantly wary.
As she should be, he thought. Her magic was alive and already the federal agencies were aware of it. Suspicion would be her closest friend now.
“It’s mine,” he said and watched her tension relax the slightest fraction. She was still taut with residual uneasiness and the remnants of her own power rushing through her. He felt a quick flare of admiration at her strength of will.
But it wasn’t only her character that caught his attention. R
une looked at his witch and felt his body stir in appreciation, despite the agony of the white-gold shards still trapped beneath his skin. She was tall, though since he stood six feet five inches himself, her height was negligible to him. She wore faded blue jeans, dark brown cowboy boots and a forest green T-shirt that clung to her lush curves. Her eyes were the color of dark chocolate and her skin the shade of rich coffee with cream. Her wildly tangled black hair hung past her shoulders. It was all Rune could do to keep his hands off her.
He had already waited several lifetimes for her—another few days while she accustomed herself to the fact that they were mates wouldn’t kill him.
He walked to the closest window, peeled back the edge of the curtains and looked out on to a rainy scene. No one was about, which was all to the good.
“You own a house in Sedona?” she asked. “How long have you been here?”
“I bought this house when you were a child. To be close by if you had need,” he said, not bothering to tell her that he hadn’t stayed here all that time. He was an Eternal, after all, and besides his duty to his witch, there was also a duty to all of those with power. He and the others like him were the strongest barrier standing between witches and the enemies who would destroy them.
“Where were you, then, when Miguel came into my life?” she murmured.
Rune stiffened at the mention of the abusive man who had made Teresa’s life a misery for several months before she freed herself of him. The moment she became involved with the male, Rune had left Sedona. He couldn’t force himself to stay near her and watch her with someone else.
“I didn’t realize what he was until after you left him,” he said softly.
She threw him a quick, haunted look that disappeared in a flash. “Doesn’t matter. I took care of myself. I always do.”
Her bravado didn’t hide the pain in her eyes and Rune felt another sharp stab of regret slice at him. Miguel had left town after Teresa showed him the door and Rune hadn’t wanted to leave her to find him. But one day, he assured himself, there would be reparations made with Miguel.
He watched her gaze sweep the room and knew what she was thinking. Spartan, the house held only the bare necessities. He had no need for luxury. And drawing attention to himself or this house hadn’t seemed wise. So he had stocked the place with only what he needed. There were couches, chairs and tables. In the kitchen, there was food, though he rarely required sustenance. There was a bed, extra clothing and the emptiness that always filled a place where nothing was shared.
Where nothing mattered.
Until now.
“If this is your house,” she asked quietly, “won’t the feds know to come here?”
“They know nothing of me. It’s you they’re following,” he reminded her and asked himself how the agents had known about her so soon after her power had awakened. “They have no way to connect you to this place, so you will be safe here.”
“For how long?”
He shrugged and winced at the pull of his muscles slicing against the white-gold bullets invading his body. He had to get them out. Soon. The drain on his powers was steadily increasing and he couldn’t afford any amount of weakness should their enemies find them. “We won’t be staying here. But the house is in a dark zone, so we’re safe enough for the moment.”
“Dark zone?” she repeated, frowning. “What is that?”
He almost smiled. “You live in Sedona and know of the vortexes but nothing of the dark zones? I have much to tell you, Teresa, but now is not the time.” He walked toward the bathroom, tugging his black T-shirt off over his head as he went. The simple action of stretching his arms above his head sent new shards of pain through him.
“Oh, my God.” Teresa was on him in an instant, grabbing hold of his arm to stop him, then sliding one hand across his torn-up back.
A flash of heat swamped him at her touch, but still he whirled away fast enough to keep her from coming into contact with the white gold.
“Don’t touch them,” he warned.
Her face paled and her eyes glinted with fury as understanding dawned on her. “White-gold bullets. They were using white-gold bullets and you took them all to save me.”
He nodded, then turned again for the bathroom. “The feds learned fast how to stop us. Or at least how to slow us down.”
Teresa followed, her footsteps quick. “I know. Silver is an earth element. It focuses our powers, makes us stronger. But white gold …”
He glanced at her. “Yes. It does the opposite. Gold can’t hurt us. But white gold is a man-made alloy. The chemical makeup of the alloy is poisonous to us. It drains magical ability.”
“So it’s working on you right now,” she said softly. “Which is why we have to get those bullets out of you. Fast.”
“I will,” he told her, not bothering to look back at her.
“How? How can you dig around in your own back?”
Rune looked at her then, hearing the dismay in her voice. He wasn’t yet sure how he would get the bullets out, but he would find a way. His own magic wasn’t as strong as that of the witch he was destined to protect and defend. But it might be enough to allow him to push the bullets free of his body. “It will be fine.”
She hurried to a window and took a look outside. The storm over the desert had rolled into the city. Rain pelted the windows and wind tore at trees, sending a crumpled newspaper hurtling down the familiar street. She smiled to herself and nodded. The hideous threestory house on the corner had made all the newspapers when the owners built it. The neighborhood had been up in arms over the modern monstrosity ruining the Spanish feel of the town.
Turning back to him, she said, “I know where we are now. My friend’s a doctor. Her office isn’t far. I can get there and be back in ten minutes.”
“No,” he said flatly, his tone brooking no argument. He allowed the flames that made up the very heart of him to flicker in the depths of his eyes.
Teresa paid no attention. “You’re in no shape to protect me, Eternal, so you’re in no shape to stop me, either.”
“You think a few pieces of white gold are enough to contain me?” he countered, insulted at the idea. Yes, they caused him pain. And drained his magic. But he was still more than the human mind could contemplate. His inborn strength had been hewn from the center of the sun and molded by his god, Belen. Rune and his brethren were unlike anything else on this earth. And it was best if his witch learned that now.
“Humans don’t worry me,” he told her. “But they should worry you. I’m immortal. You’re not.”
“Yeah, but I am a witch,” she countered. “And you got shot saving me. So I’m going to get the help we need so you can save me again, okay?”
He stalked across the room, ignoring the jabs of pain in his back. Those small pieces of white gold were as nothing to him in the face of his witch’s rebellion. As his gaze caught hers, he grabbed her shoulders and held on. “You’re not to go into the streets. The feds are out there somewhere, looking for you.”
“And the longer we stand here arguing, the closer to town they get.”
“You’re not foolish enough to believe they are the only ones on your trail, are you?” he argued. “There are more. Already in the city. Looking for you.” The men in the desert were no doubt still in the air, headed for the city—but their compatriots could be anywhere. “Here, in the dark zone, it will be nearly impossible for them to track you. Magic is muted here, so whatever they’re using to locate you won’t work in the zone.”
“How big is this zone?” she countered quickly.
“Several blocks.”
“Then we’re still good. My friend’s clinic is two blocks from this house.”
Irritated almost to the breaking point, Rune demanded, “Who is this doctor?”
Teresa gave him a fast, brilliant smile as if she knew she had won this round. “Elena Vargas. She’s two blocks over. She’ll help. I know she will.”
Rune still didn’t like it, but he like
d even less the idea of his power draining further. There was a question he must ask, though. “How do you know this friend isn’t the one who turned you in to the Magic Police?”
She laughed and the sound was so unexpected, it jolted through Rune like a hot, luscious summer wind.
“Not a chance. Elena’s known I’m a witch since we were kids.”
He didn’t like it, but she was right that the longer they waited, the more dangerous it was. And if he were to go with her, they would only attract more attention. Even in a city the size of Sedona, a man like Rune wouldn’t go unnoticed. His size alone would attract attention.
The idea of her venturing out alone went against every one of his instincts, yet the sooner he was rid of the white gold, the sooner his witch would be safe again. “Fine, then. Go. But hurry—and speak to no one but your friend.”
“I’m not an idiot, Eternal,” she told him, already headed for the door. “And if we’re going to be together through this quest of ours, then you’d better get used to the idea that I don’t take orders well.”
She opened the door, slipped out and was gone an instant later. So she didn’t hear Rune mutter, “But take them you will.”
Chapter 3
He hated letting her go alone, but if he refused, he risked her safety anyway. When a choice is not a choice, all that is left is fate.
Trusting in fate was not something that came easily to Rune. Through the centuries he had chafed at the years of atonement that had followed the coven’s disastrous actions. His witch and her coven had sentenced themselves to centuries of separation from their magic. The Eternals had been condemned to remain on the fringes of the lives of the women they had been created to protect—and to love.
Now that the long wait was over and their time was finally here, he trusted only himself to keep Teresa safe.
He looked out the window, scowling at the driving rain, and experienced for the first time a sense of helplessness that nearly crushed him. He wasn’t accustomed to encountering any situation he couldn’t muscle his way through. Now, his woman was out on the streets while he was forced to wait.
Visions of Skyfire Page 2