She studied Jake for a long moment, her heart pounding a little faster and the star birthmark beneath her navel tingling. The Elvin blanket only covered him from the waist down, baring his well-honed chest, carved biceps, and the eagle, globe, and anchor tattoo on his upper right arm. Through the thin blanket she could make out his muscular thighs, and—
Her cheeks burned. From the thickness and length of him beneath the soft material, it looked like he must be having a pretty good dream.
Time to change the channel, as Copper would say.
Jake had always reminded her of an Otherworld warrior—proud, fierce, powerful. He had strong, square, and hard masculine features with firm lips and stubble shading his jaw.
When open, his eyes were a brilliant blue. But over the past months he’d had an incredible weariness in his gaze, as had nearly everyone in the Alliance.
Kael lay on the wooden floor, but his head was high, his ears alert, as he watched her pace. “The human, Jake, will live, mistress. Why do you look so disturbed?”
“I am not disturbed,” Cassia said aloud as she glanced at Kael. She turned her gaze to Jake before meeting Kael’s blue eyes again. “I just—” She rubbed her arms with her hands. “I don’t—” She turned away from him. “Never mind.”
Thankfully, Kael didn’t press her. She went to one of the tall, arched windows with ivy winding around the columns of the arches. Weather never changed in the Elvin city, so windowpanes were not necessary.
As she looked over the sunlit trees, she wondered if they were missing something special with no rain or storms in this enchanted place. Along with the occasional sunshiny days, she had become used to fog, rain, and cold in San Francisco, and in some ways she missed it. Truthfully, she missed it a lot.
With a frown she shook her head. No, she missed what the city had been before the war with the demons. Now, nothing would ever be the same in the San Francisco Otherworld she had grown to love.
A hummingbird flitted nearby, drawing nectar from red blooms that were much like hibiscus on earth.
She braced her hand on the cool stone column as she leaned forward just in time to see Daire climb the steps leading to the entrance of the palace. Her throat grew dry. She hadn’t seen Daire since she’d left him the night of her ascension ceremony.
Cassia glanced at Jake. His jaw was dark and rough with stubble, his brown hair ruffled on the white pillow. Even in sleep, he looked rugged, powerful.
Her breathing quickened before she looked out the window to see that Daire was no longer on the stairs. No doubt he had entered the palace.
Cassia did not want him to come to her in the same room where Jake was recuperating. She had a feeling Daire wouldn’t be pleased to see her with the human.
She slipped out of the room and Kael immediately trotted at her side.
Maybe she was being a coward, but she was grateful for her familiar’s presence.
They moved down a short hallway and continued to the top of the staircase. Below, Daire looked up at her and she met his leaf green eyes. Her cheeks heated at the thought that the last time she had seen him he had been naked, prepared to lie with her.
“Cassiandra.” His words came out soft but husky. “I would see you now.”
Cassia sucked in her breath and centered herself. She had always taken care to keep her emotions in check, and now should be no different.
But her stomach still twisted as she walked down the smooth wooden steps. The bottom of her white robe brushed the tops of her feet and she gripped the finely carved wooden banister, harder than she normally would have.
Kael remained tight to her side. Daire glanced at the wolf, but said nothing.
When Cassia reached Daire, she looked at his eyes, trying to discern his emotions. He was so much taller she had to tilt her head back. He was beautiful with his perfect features, high cheekbones, and the blond hair that hung straight past his shoulders.
Shock made her rigid as he took her by the shoulders and lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was smooth, soft, and he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips.
She didn’t respond. She thought of Jake instead. What it would be like to kiss him. Confusion made her mind spin and her body tremble. Sparks crackled at her fingertips and in her belly, startling her.
From somewhere in the palace she heard something shatter.
Kael growled in Cassia’s mind, and she mentally shushed him.
Jealous males.
With an intent expression, Daire drew away. He raised his hand and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “You chose a human over me the night of your ascension.”
Cassia’s eyes widened. “Jake would have died. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Many humans die in their wars.” He dropped his hand away. “You cannot save them all. What makes this one so important?”
Cassia struggled even more to center herself. “He is essential to this war. It was not his time to pass to Summerland.”
“The gods make that decision.” Daire’s voice took on a hard edge. “It is not up to you.”
Anger rose in Cassia, and she had an increasingly difficult time keeping her tone even. “The gods would not have given me a vision of his near death if they did not intend for me to save him. I am a Guardian ascending now, Daire. You should not forget that.”
Daire studied her long and hard, and she met his gaze without blinking.
He straightened to his full height. “It is true. You have feelings for this human.”
“I’ve known him for a long time.” Cassia swallowed. “He has been part of our Alliance from the very beginning.” Daire shook his head. “It is more than that.”
When Cassia didn’t answer, he added, “Remember, it is an Elvin male of pure blood who you must mate with to complete your ascension. Or you will lose the new powers you have gained. And the fate of Otherworlds—”
“How could I forget?” she said quietly. “With you and the Great Guardian reminding me constantly, it is as if you believe I cannot think for myself.”
“Twelve days remain.” Daire bowed from his shoulders and straightened. “I will be waiting.”
Cassia watched him as he turned and walked toward the palace doors. He glanced over his shoulder and their eyes met briefly before he strode through the doorway.
Adrenaline pumped through Jake as he and his team moved through the darkness and dry air along a mountain’s rock wall near a small Afghan village. Everything had a green tinge to it through his night-vision goggles.
His men were virtually invisible in their black night combat gear.
He gripped his M-16 and motioned with a nod to Pacer to take the lead. Pacer’s instincts were usually as right on as Jake’s.
Where the team had deployed in the Bamiyan Valley, religious and artistic developments from the first to the thirteenth centuries were represented in the landscape and archaeological remains.
What his Marine paranormal special ops team searched for now didn’t belong here. It didn’t have anything to do with the natural order in this valley. In this country.
No, what they were looking for had to do with dark magic.
The darkest.
At one time, before they were destroyed by the Taliban, great Buddha statues had been carved into the solid sandstone walls Jake and his team now skimmed silently past. Caves had been hollowed out where entire monasteries had prayed and meditated.
Before.
Long before the evil they now searched for had tainted everything near this Afghani village and threatened to spread through the country like a virus.
And then who knew when, where, or if it would stop?
Jake’s breathing came a little faster as his ops team moved silently through the night toward one of the larger caves.
Earlier their reconnaissance team had located the target of their raid—practitioners of such evil that the thought of what they performed was nearly crushing in itself.
Water flowed through a nearby canal, di
verted from the Bamiyan River, giving the nearby Afghani villagers the water they needed to survive. To drink. To raise crops.
But if Jake and his special ops team failed—
Even that could end.
The sounds of the water blended with a few goats bleating in the night. The air stirred, brushing but not cooling the sweat on Jake’s forearms.
Jake’s whole being burned as he listened to constant sobs. The fact that magical healers and seers from around the world were being held as hostages and slaves by the dark sorcery cult was a constant fire beneath his skin. Hearing their soft pleas only increased his anger and determination.
His team would be in and out in minutes. They’d wipe out the cult and free the hostages.
And they’d do it now.
With a couple of hand signals, Jake had his men break up and move to either side of the cave’s entrance.
The crying sounds abruptly stopped.
An odor bled from the mouth of the cave.
The stink of dark magic.
Like the stench of blood, and something bitter and acrid, like roof tar.
Hair prickled at Jake’s nape. His heart rate spiked.
This is all wrong. Something’s wrong.
Before Jake had time to pull his team back, Pacer stepped on a corner of the opening to the cave.
An explosion slammed into every man on Jake’s team.
Pacer’s body was ripped apart.
Jake’s men were flung from the cave, their flesh burning from their bones.
Excruciating pain tore through Jake as he was flung into the Afghani night.
* * *
Jake woke from the nightmare with a jerk and barely held back a shout. Sweat coated his skin and he breathed hard as if he’d been running for miles.
It was completely dark. His hands shook as he brought them to his face and rubbed his eyes.
Shit. He hadn’t had that dream in months. That memory.
Pain sliced his chest as the images of that night pounded at his head over and over.
The smell of magic rushed over him and he automatically reached for his Glock—which wasn’t there.
At the same time he realized the scent now was of good magic, not black. The perfume of it was fresh, like orchids and the smell of grass after a good rain.
“Jake,” said a soft female voice that calmed him. Somehow that familiar voice caused his muscles to relax and his body went limp. “Sleep,” she said.
He faded away.
Damn, but he had the mother of all headaches.
Something pulled at the back of his mind, faint images and sounds, but he couldn’t focus on it long enough to grasp whatever it was.
Jake brought his fingertips to his temples and rubbed them before dropping his hand to his side and opening his eyes.
His gaze wavered in and out as he tried to focus.
A blonde woman. A smile. Fingers lightly brushing hair from his forehead.
“You’re finally awake.” Cassia’s voice, soft, lilting. “I was beginning to wonder if you would sleep the week through.”
Jake squinted and Cassia’s face came more clearly into focus. She sat in a chair beside the bed and she looked like an angel. Sunlight shone through the strands of her golden hair so that she almost seemed to glow. Her turquoise-colored eyes studied him intently.
He glanced from her to see that he was in some kind of room with ivy crawling on the walls and through arches. The walls were a shade that wasn’t white. Wasn’t blue, wasn’t green. Something different. Simple wooden furniture was tucked against walls and in corners. The bed had such a soft mattress that he could happily close his eyes and go back to sleep.
The scent of magic surrounded him.
Jake mentally shook his head. What the hell?
“Where am I?” His voice came out even, his tone controlled. “What’s going on?”
Cassia continued to look at him in that same calm, mysterious way that had always driven him crazy with the desire to shake her. Or kiss her.
She gestured toward the windows, where he could see tree leaves glittering in the sunlight. “You are in the City of the Light Elves, in Otherworld.”
He blinked. No way had he heard that. “I’m where?”
“Otherworld.” She rested her hands in her lap. “You don’t remember anything?”
Jake squinted, and didn’t have to reach far for memories of the attack in the park. He winced at the images and flinched as he remembered sensations of daggers stabbing him in his gut and chest. Another man had been driving a dagger toward his heart—
A female voice cut through the mayhem. Fire. Fire surrounding them. Crackling. Smells of burned hair and flesh, and that horrible musty, sour smell.
He brought his hand to his chest to find he was naked beneath the covers. He felt rough skin, like scars. Scars where the wounds would have been. “I should be dead.”
“You weren’t meant to die.” For the first time Cassia looked a little rattled. “I couldn’t let you.”
Jake scooted up in bed, the covers falling to his lap and baring his chest. He looked down at the thick pink scars and brought his hand up to touch them. He felt no pain except for the memory of the agony of the daggers driving into his flesh, piercing deep inside his body.
An odd sensation stirred in his gut as he returned his gaze to hers. “You saved me?”
“The Great Guardian and I, yes.” Cassia maintained that calm expression that still made him want to grab her and rattle her.
Maybe kissing her would do just that.
Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose before looking at her again.
More memories, these more vague, came to him—rain, thunder, pain, and Cassia cradling him in her lap before he was thrown into a spiraling sensation followed by complete blackness.
“You came for me,” he said with no doubt in his mind. “Not the Great Guardian.”
Cassia didn’t say anything.
Why did she come for him?
“What happened to the rest of those Stormcutters?” Jake asked as he thought about the fire circling them and the smells.
“Those funnel-beings?” She cleared her throat. “I eliminated them.”
“You killed the bastards?” Jake stared at her. “Gray witches never kill.”
“I am not a gray witch,” she said, her voice quieting.
“What—” Jake began, but she cut him off by holding up one graceful, delicate hand.
“You need to sleep now, Jake.”
She started to stand, but he stopped her when he reached for one of her hands and squeezed. Currents of electricity shot through him. The same currents he’d felt every time Cassia had touched him in the past.
“Thank you doesn’t seem like enough,” he said as she squeezed his hand back.
“I’m happy you’re going to be okay.” She smiled such a radiant smile that his heart beat faster.
Why did he want to draw her onto his lap and hold her?
Hell, he didn’t even trust her. She’d deceived the D’Anu witches in the past—she could still be deceiving them with everything she did or said. She’d just admitted to not being a gray witch.
So what is she?
There’d be time to sort all of that out later. Right now other questions had to be asked and answered.
Jake cleared his throat and released her hand. “How long have I been out?”
“Three days.”
“No fu—friggin’ way.” Jake started to climb out of bed but Cassia put her palm against his chest and frowned.
Tingles radiated from her hand and he hardened so much his balls ached. Jake gave another mental curse. He glanced down to make sure the covers hid that little fact.
Cassia was surprisingly strong as she braced her palm on his skin and kept him from getting up. “We repaired your internal organs, but they have needed the time to heal completely. Nothing can do that but rest.”
His whole body jumped like a l
ive wire, and not just from her touch, but from the need to get back to work. He had a lot to do to make his city safe again. Too much to do. He couldn’t stay in bed. God only knew what was going on back in San Francisco.
As Cassia removed her hand from his chest, Jake clenched his fists. “How is the man who was with me at the park? How is everyone else in the Alliance? Have there been any more battles with Darkwolf and those Stormcutters?”
“Rhiannon sent word that David Bourne is fine. His wounds were simple for the D’Anu to heal.” She leaned away from Jake and straightened in her chair. “I’ve let them know you are all right, too.”
When she eased back in her chair he got a good look at her for the first time. White robes opened at the slender column of her throat, the material parting just enough that her cleavage was exposed, showing the gentle curves of her breasts.
His mouth watered and he ached. He adjusted the covers to better hide his hard-on and mentally willed it down.
A stab of guilt hit him in the chest, in the same place as one of his new scars. Cassia turned him on big-time, but he had no business thinking the things he was thinking of doing to her. With her.
He should be thinking about Kat. He should be thinking about getting back to San Francisco and making sure she was okay—and that she wasn’t getting herself killed by trying to cover news stories involving the insanity in the city.
Jake looked over Cassia’s left shoulder to avoid her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. The fact that she wasn’t even human should be enough to squelch any other erotic thoughts about him and this beautiful half-Elvin woman.
Or was she half Elvin? She wasn’t a gray witch—so was she even a witch at all? She could be half dragon, or a friggin’ shapeshifting eggplant. What did he really know about Cassia?
Nothing but the fact that he’d seen her in battle with the D’Anu witches and watched her become the person all of the witches turned to for help and guidance. She had gone from pretending to be an inept apprentice witch to their leader.
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