The Dark

by Cheyenne McCray

  Out of all of the witches, Hannah managed to maintain a visible semblance of poise. “But it still doesn’t make sense. Why would he kill someone who was feeding him information, if that’s what she was doing? Even if she’d threatened to tell us, what would he care? He’s a duo-god, for Anu’s sake.”

  “We have only one option.” Cassia broke her own silence and everyone looked at her. “We each work with one of the PSF as a partner, and no longer work together as a Coven.”

  Shocked expressions from every one of the witches met Cassia’s gaze.

  Cassia kept her voice as calm as possible. “This sisterhood is broken.”

  26

  Three days later, as morning sunshine threaded through the fog and into the skylights, Cassia lay on her side on Jake’s mattress in his room. He wrapped his arm tight around her waist, his body pressed against her backside.

  The last few days were the hardest emotionally that Cassia had experienced since coming to the Earth Otherworld centuries ago.

  Each witch had been paired with a PSF officer, even those D’Anu who were married to Otherworld husbands.

  The witches avoided one another, walking around with their PSF partners like ghosts of the women they had been. Mackenzie’s death hung over them like the darkest of skies.

  Even when they buried Mackenzie in one of the sacred places in Golden Gate Park, with her ferret familiar beside her, none of the witches spoke.

  Sadder yet, their familiars stayed away from one another, too.

  Cassia had started sleeping with Jake—minus sex of any kind—since the day of the murder. She couldn’t go back to the room she had shared with Mackenzie and Alyssa.

  Not only because of the pall Mackenzie’s death had caused, but Cassia, too, was keeping her distance from any of the witches, and that included Alyssa.

  She frowned as she considered again the quiet witch who had always been the most timid member of the Coven, and Mackenzie’s best friend.

  Cassia had thought of Alyssa as delicate, fragile. Yet she had never discounted the strength within Alyssa that had served her well in every battle they had fought.

  Could Alyssa be the murderer?

  Cassia squeezed her eyes shut and settled more firmly against Jake, and he kissed the top of her head. Her mind constantly spun and ached as she asked the same question about every one of the witches countless times.

  Who is the murderer? The traitor?

  Why is the truth blocked from me?

  It was apparently blocked from Kael, too, as he discovered nothing when he followed the witches and their familiars.

  If Cassia returned to Otherworld, would the Great Guardian have the answers they needed?

  “Something has to be done.” Cassia opened her eyes and stared across the room at her chest of ceremonial items, which she had moved in from her old room. She traced every etching, every scar in the ancient wood with her gaze. “We can’t go on like this.”

  “We’ll find a way to draw Darkwolf out into the open.” Jake squeezed her tighter. “We’ll finish him like we’ve been planning in our strategy sessions.”

  Cassia sighed and rolled over in Jake’s embrace so that they were lying face-to-face and she could look into his blue eyes. He smelled so warm and spicy and masculine.

  She stroked Jake’s stubbled jaw. She liked the roughness of the shadow of his beard beneath her fingertips. Elves didn’t have facial or body hair. She found it incredibly sexy on Jake.

  “You don’t think it will be that easy, do you?” she asked.

  “No.” Jake clenched his teeth and she felt it through her touch. “But he’s not making any moves, and we’ve got to do something before he’s created so many Stormcutters we’ll never be able to bring him down.”

  Cassia’s insides twisted and sickened as she wished desperately that nothing had changed in her Coven. Right now all of the gray-magic D’Anu witches could have been in the kitchen, together, scrying to find any answers to the many questions spread out before them.

  “Are you sure the Mystwalkers are ready?” Jake asked as he rubbed Cassia’s upper arm. “That they’ll send the metal, too, so that we can try out that weapon?

  Cassia pushed herself onto her elbow so that she was looking down at Jake. “I’m confident in Alaia and her people. I will be bringing her to join us along with the weapons.”

  She thought about her last communication with the Mystwalker leader. “We established a strong mental connection and, when we’re ready for the Mystwalkers to join us, I’ll use my powers to bring them here as well.”

  Jake let her hand slip from his. “No one should know about them yet.”

  “I don’t like the idea of such a powerful weapon being in the murderer’s hands—she might manage to get it to Darkwolf, and he could figure out how to eliminate their threat.” Cassia clenched her fists. “And there isn’t a blessed thing we can do about it.”

  Cassia studied Jake. He looked tired like he did every morning after a restless night.

  Every now and then he would say something in his sleep, and Cassia knew he was having a nightmare about what had happened to his special ops team in Afghanistan.

  “You dreamed again,” she said as she stroked his jaw. “The same nightmare you have every night.”

  He looked surprised. “How do you know?”

  “Your sleep is always troubled.” She moved her fingers from his jaw into his soft hair. “You talk a little, shout some.”

  “Shit.” He shut his eyes.

  “Tell me about your dreams.”

  “Every night that op haunts me.” Jake opened his eyes and his gaze was filled with pain. “But it’s as much as I deserve for failing my men.”

  Cassia moved her hand to his shoulder and would have shaken him if he wasn’t so big. “When are you going to accept the fact that it wasn’t your fault?”

  “Never.” Jake’s throat worked as he swallowed. “There’s nothing that can take that pain away.”

  “You’re a good man, Jake Macgregor.” She moved closer to him and hugged him as close as she could. “If you’d known it was a trap, you would never have allowed them to get close to that place.”

  He said nothing, but held her just as tightly.

  Jake’s mind whirled with possibilities while he stood in the equipment room beside Cassia and Alaia as they looked at the pile of Mystwalker collars.

  Without anyone else’s knowledge, Cassia had used her increased powers to bring Alaia through the veil a few moments ago. Cassia had also transported the weapons from Otherworld into the large equipment room by the command center, where they now stood.

  What Jake was more interested in, though, were the bars of the gold-colored metal that Alaia had brought with the collars.

  He crouched and picked up one of the bars, and weighed it in his hand. “Not too heavy.”

  The material felt rough in his hand, but according to the metal’s properties, it would be as smooth as the Mystwalker collars when melted.

  He gripped the metal as he spoke. “We’ll have to find out if this is as durable as the Mystwalkers, Elves, and Fae seem to think it is.”

  “As far as it is known in Otherworld”—Alaia knelt beside Jake and picked up a bar—“there is no stronger metal. Few know of its existence, but the Mystwalkers are well versed in every other metal that has been discovered.”

  “The Drow, as well, believe there is nothing that can withstand what this metal is able to,” Cassia said. “The Dark Elves’ specialty lies in all materials mined in Otherworld, and I’m confident with their assessment.”

  “Excellent.” Jake looked from Cassia to Alaia. “I’m going to take this to my team so we can melt it down as soon as possible and start making the parts for the weapon I designed.”

  Hopeful for the first time since they’d begun this fight with Darkwolf, Jake picked up the other two bars on the floor and Alaia handed the fourth one to him.

  “Thanks for all you’re doing for the Alliance and our fi
ght against Darkwolf,” he said to her.

  She acknowledged him with a slight nod. “We hope our assistance will be enough to help you in your battles.”

  He blew out a breath. “It’ll definitely help.”

  Jake stared at Hawk, finding it hard to believe the warrior’s words. “Darkwolf has been keeping his army in the stadium all this time?” Jake asked.

  “We are certain.” Hawk moved his gaze to each representative of the Alliance who stood in the command center. “Silver scried the location and Copper dream-visioned the Stormcutters training and multiplying in the stadium. Copper and Silver are positive.”

  Damn bastards, Jake thought, using the San Francisco Giants stadium.

  He’d been a diehard Giant’s fan since he could talk, and seeing the abuse the stadium had gone through at the hands of the dark goddess and now Darkwolf was enough to piss off a fan big-time.

  Never mind all the other havoc they’d created.

  Copper and Silver, being blood sisters, were the only two witches who had refused to stay apart.

  A measure of energy thrummed through Jake now that he’d heard what the sisters had scried. It looked like the Alliance finally might have a decent lead.

  Rhiannon frowned. Despite the Coven being disbanded, she still served as a representative of the witches. “I haven’t had any visions of the stadium.”

  “How did those sisters mark the place all of a sudden?” Bourne said as he leaned his hip against a console. “From what you guys tell me, none of the witches had been able to see a thing before.”

  “Silver and Copper believe the traitor used dark sorcery to hinder all of the witches’ scrying sessions.” Hawk braced one hand on his sword hilt, which looked a little odd strapped to the waistband his Levis. “Now that they scry apart from the other witches, there is nothing to block their divination powers.”

  Cassia nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I sensed something dark and filled with malice among the D’Anu when I first returned from Otherworld after my extended absence. But I couldn’t place it.”

  She glanced briefly at Rhiannon before looking back at Bourne. Rhiannon narrowed her gaze.

  “Now that I think about it,” Cassia said, not meeting Rhiannon’s, gaze again “I’m not surprised the traitor managed to skew the visions.”

  Jake cued up a map of San Francisco on the large monitors and, with a few clicks on the keyboard, drew up a satellite image of the city. A few more clicks and he had the stadium filling the screen, and they could see each seat in the stands and every chalk line on the field.

  “There’s nothing here.” Jake straightened as he studied the map. “He could have his army hidden inside the building itself. But when we’ve considered it before, the D’Danann scouts didn’t find any signs of Darkwolf or his Stormcutters anywhere near the stadium.”

  “His god-powers.” Cassia focused on the screens. “With the strength of two gods and his own dark sorcery, there’s a good chance he’s been shielding the entire stadium.”

  “I bet you’re right.” Jake braced his hands on the table as he swung his gaze to meet Cassia’s. “Think that will keep us out?”

  “It’s difficult to say,” she replied. “It might just be a masking spell, and once we’re there we can break through his defenses.”

  “We need to flat out go after his ass.” Bourne pushed away from the console he’d been leaning against and moved beside Jake. “It’s not doing us any good standing around waiting for the bastard to do his thing and outnumber us before we can adjust our Jockey shorts.”

  Everyone in the room nodded or spoke their agreement, but Alaia remained quiet as she studied each one of the Alliance leaders. Jake had taken the metal she’d provided to his weapons team and they’d already gone to work on it.

  “We have a little surprise in store for the Stormcutters, too.” Jake nodded to Alaia, whom he had introduced when they first started the strategy session. “Alaia has brought with her some weapons that are going to be pretty damn useful in this fight.”

  Alaia explained how the weapons worked, and demonstrated with her own as she had in Otherworld. As they listened to her, Jake could feel the additional excitement rippling through the Alliance leaders.

  “The metal we talked about”—Jake nodded to Alaia—“she and the other Mystwalkers were more than generous and brought us enough to make a prototype.” He pulled the roll of parchment that Alaia had given him in Otherworld from his back pocket and spread it out on the map table in the center of the room.

  Bourne and Fredrickson pored over the information.

  “Damn,” Bourne said as he looked from Alaia to Jake. “I think you’ve got something here.”

  “Now to make that weapon,” Fredrickson said.

  Hawk gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. “But now we go to this stadium and fight.”

  Adrenaline pumped through Jake’s veins at the prospect of going one-on-one with Darkwolf again.

  “Let’s do it.”

  27

  San Francisco felt like a massive graveyard in the still night. Everything was eerily quiet and a shiver scurried down Jake’s spine.

  It was as if the Alliance was nothing but shadows and dust as the growing task force came at the stadium from all directions.

  Jake was beyond sick of screwing with all of this paranormal crap. This was his city, and hell if he was going to let Darkwolf win the war.

  The Alliance had taken out the goddess-bitch from Underworld, and one way or another, Darkwolf was going down, too.

  They’d waited till night for their offensive move so that the Drow warriors could join their ranks.

  The Drow stood at strategic points where they could best use their bows and arrows to take down as many funnel-men as they could before the Dark Elves joined in the fight with their swords.

  Twenty-two hundred Marines hunkered down, prepared to do their thing. The D’Danann were already positioned at the highest points of the stadium.

  All of Jake’s PSF officers were present, most of them wearing the Mystwalker collars.

  Jake hoped to God all of the Alliance fighters would be enough.

  His thoughts turned toward the D’Anu. Broken as they were, he wasn’t sure how much good they’d do in the battle. He was more worried about them being hurt than anything. The witches also wore the Mystwalker collars, and their familiars were at their sides, though, even Silver’s python.

  The traitorous murdering bitch among the D’Anu—he wanted to know who she was before—

  Before what?

  Jake’s blood ran thick and hot as he watched Cassia close her eyes. The collar around her neck glinted in the faint streetlight.

  He had refused to take one of the things, letting others use the limited supply. He was more comfortable with his Glock and his own dagger anyway.

  Cassia’s features took on an almost ethereal glow as she focused on bringing the Mystwalkers from Otherworld. She stood in a large open area in the middle of the stadium’s Willie Mays Plaza, Kael beside her.

  In the plaza there’d be enough space to bring in the hundred or so male and female Mystwalkers who would join the Alliance in the attack.

  While he waited for Cassia to transport the Mystwalkers, Jake checked in with the commanding officers of every unit via his mic. According to the commanders, no sign of movement or acknowledgment of their presence came from Darkwolf’s camp.

  But Jake had no doubt the warlock-god knew they were here. The traitor would have made sure of that by now. One way or another, she’d have figured out a way to contact him.

  Air began to shimmer around Cassia and low-hanging fog gathered in the plaza. In moments, figures rose from the mist.

  It still made Jake’s heart rate kick up a notch to see men and women appear out of nothing, even though he’d watched them do it in Otherworld.

  When the mist vanished and the Mystwalker warriors stood in the street, Alaia stepped out of the Alliance’s ranks and joined her people. Sh
e gave Cassia a nod then did the same to Jake.

  He returned Alaia’s nod just as lightning split the sky and thunder boomed across the city.

  Show’s on.

  Jake gave one long look at Cassia and tried to tell her with his gaze how much he loved her. If her answering expression was any indication, she was thinking and feeling the same thing.

  He focused on the mission and spoke into his transmitter. “Green light,” he said as he drew his Glock from its holster. “Don’t wait for an order to shoot. Remember what’s going to be coming your way and go after the bastards with everything you have as soon as they’re on your asses.”

  The moment Jake gave the order, the Alliance descended on the stadium.

  As planned, someone threw the stadium lights on.

  More lightning fragmented the sky, with bellows of thunder close behind. Rain poured down fast, heavy, and sudden, like a million buckets of water sloshed over the Alliance nonstop.

  If a man could wield that kind of power—it was no wonder Darkwolf had been so hard to find and destroy.

  The Alliance warriors maintained their air of stealth as they moved through passageways. They’d figured Darkwolf would want them in the open where he could use his Stormcutters, so the Alliance commanders weren’t too concerned about being attacked from behind. Still, each man and woman remained on guard as they flowed through the stadium’s arteries.

  When they burst onto the field, Jake’s gut clenched at what waited for them, clearly seen in the stadium lights.

  Thousands of water funnels.

  Battle cries, shouts, and the sound of gunfire tore through the rain-soaked night. The sour stench of the Stormcutters slammed into his senses, obliterating every other smell.

  Jake’s heart stuttered as Cassia shoved her way to the front ranks of the Alliance and met the Stormcutters head on. Brilliant flames whirled around her as she released her magic. Funnels evaporated and fire incinerated the men inside them in an instant.

  A moment’s pride flashed through Jake, but then a funnel was nearly down his throat and he had to focus wholly on kicking some Stormcutter ass.