Darkwolf never took his eyes off Ceithlenn. She was in some kind of trance, eyes closed. Her features twisted from furious to pleased to furious again. She clenched her hands into fists, deep growls rising from her throat. Her body shook, and her lips thinned into a tight line.
Whatever was happening, it didn’t look good at all.
If that wasn’t the understatement of the century.
She let loose a terrible laugh that grated along Darkwolf’s spine. Like the screech of a Banshee.
Then her face turned from hideous delight to blackness.
She jerked out of her trance and gave a scream that rang in Darkwolf’s ears. She thrust out one of her arms.
A bolt of magic shot through the dusk across the island.
It slammed into the last tour boat that had just pulled away from the dock.
The boat exploded.
Screams and cries rent the air. The tourists on board had been either blasted into tiny pieces or burned alive. He saw park rangers running for the boat.
Darkwolf tried not to flinch. Elizabeth-Junga stirred beside him. From the corner of his eye he saw what he thought was fear in her gaze.
Fire reached for the sky, licking at the fog like a demon’s tongue. Sounds of bodies splashing into the water and constant screaming met his ears.
Not a great way to end the day with this bitch.
“So close. I almost killed her and the one she has feelings for.” Ceithlenn’s hair was mostly flame now, matching the fire on the water. Her eyes glowed red, her incisors dropping down so that she looked like a vampire having a serious bad hair day. “The witch shoved me out!”
Way to go, witch, Darkwolf thought but held back his smirk.
“I’ve got to get more souls.” Ceithlenn actually sounded panicked now, her eyes wide. “I used up too much of my energy transporting those worthless demons for the attack on the witches.”
Her gaze went to the tour boat. “Those souls were mine to take. Now that’s all fucked up! I don’t even know if I can get us back to the penthouse.” Her voice lowered to a growl. “I used up my power and not one of the witches died.” Her attention snapped to Elizabeth-Junga. “Your demon soldiers failed. You selected worthless scum for the attack.”
The flames raging on the water highlighted Elizabeth-Junga’s features. “My apologies, my goddess. I picked those who have shown the most strength as we have prepared for the great battle to come. When we will retrieve Balor.”
Ceithlenn sneered and moved closer to Elizabeth-Junga. “Obviously your soldiers need more training. Apparently you have not been doing as well as I had thought.”
“Yes, my goddess.” Elizabeth lowered her head, but Darkwolf saw fury on her face as she looked down. “I will go below to the cavern at once to work on their training.”
Ceithlenn gave a growl that sounded like a beast from Underworld. “No.”
Elizabeth’s head jerked up and both she and Darkwolf stared at Ceithlenn. By the tone of her voice, he had no doubt she was up to something.
“As I have mentioned before, I have plans for the two of you.” Her voice became eerily serene, her expression focused and calm.
Darkwolf’s gut churned. Aided by the essence in Balor’s eye, Darkwolf had participated in, even commanded human blood sacrifices to call the Fomorii from Underworld. He had influenced or forced powerful witches to become warlocks. He had corrupted, stolen, killed.
But the way Ceithlenn sucked souls from large groups of people, leaving withered husks, and the way she ate flesh from her living victims sickened him like nothing else had.
Even with Balor’s eye hanging from the chain around his throat, Darkwolf regretted summoning the Fomorii and ultimately Ceithlenn. Nothing was working out the way he had planned. Not a Balor-bedamned thing.
The goddess’s hair turned from flames to punk red and her incisors retracted. “I need another venue,” Ceithlenn said. “A greater number of souls that I can devour in order to follow through with my plans.”
Darkwolf’s stomach tightened even more. He had an idea that he wasn’t going to like any of her plans one damn bit.
Chapter 17
Rhiannon couldn’t sleep. Images of Ceithlenn and the Shadows filled her mind. The thought that the Shadows had almost murdered Keir made her want to throw up and cry at the same time.
What have I done? She pushed herself up on one of her elbows to look down at Keir, who was still sleeping. With every rise and fall of his chest she felt both relief and remorse. She reached out to touch his stubbled jaw that felt like sandpaper beneath her fingertips.
After Cassia had used her potions, leaving them smelling of lavender, mint, and chamomile, she and the others had left to allow Rhiannon and Keir to rest.
But she couldn’t rest. The pain in her head and chest was too intense.
I’m so stupid. How could I have let the Shadows escape? How could I have let them come so close to hurting, to maybe even killing Keir?
A knot formed in her throat and she had to fight back the sting of tears behind her eyes.
As Rhiannon had grown up, the Shadows had also grown in strength. They’d occasionally rattled and knocked against the lid of the mental box inside of her. Especially when she’d been in danger.
But, still, they’d remained safely locked away—
Until that day in the common room when she’d had to fight them back.
The first time they’d wanted to go after Keir.
She’d known then that Ceithlenn had been the one who’d found the key to the box …
And today the goddess had had the power to open Rhiannon’s mental box and use the Shadows against her.
Rhiannon moved her hand from Keir’s jaw to her mouth and choked back a sob. He could have been killed. The dark power inside her could have killed him.
Keir stirred and opened his eyes. She dropped her hand from her mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his T-shirt again.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She turned so that her cheek was against his chest. “You could have died.” He didn’t say anything, but stroked her hair as she cried. “The goddess—the Shadows—too strong. I couldn’t hold them back.”
“Shhhh,” he said and wrapped his arms around her so that he was holding her tightly. “It is all right. I am all right.”
Rhiannon drew out of his embrace. He was flat on his back and she rested on one hip, bracing herself with her palm on the bed. She caressed his cheek and slipped her fingers into his dark hair. “I’ve always been able to control them. Since I was a small girl. Sometimes it was hard, but I made them stay inside—until now.”
He furrowed his brows and gave her a puzzled expression. “What have you kept inside?”
“The Shadows,” she whispered. “The one that tried to choke you and the one that barricaded the door—they came from me, not C—the goddess. She shoved them out, but they’ve always been there. Waiting, I think.” Rhiannon shuddered and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ve never told anyone about the Shadows. No one. Not even my Coven sisters.”
His dark eyes studied her. “This is some kind of power you have?”
Rhiannon wanted to look anywhere but at him, but forced herself to meet his gaze. “I discovered the Shadows when I was a little girl, but I learned to control them.” Then she whispered, “They’ve tried to come out. But I controlled them. Contained them. Until now.”
She put a hand to her head. “I don’t know what to do, Keir. I can’t tell anyone. What if they’re disgusted by what I really am? A witch with something evil inside her.” She kept her gaze on his. “Will you tell them?” She shuddered. “How one of them almost killed you?”
Keir pulled her back into his embrace and kissed the top of her head. “No, a stór. That is for you to share when you are ready.”
Rhiannon sniffled. Even as he held her tight and comforted her, she was afraid of what he thought of her now. “Do you think I’m a monster?” she wh
ispered.
He rolled her onto her back so that his hands were braced on either side of her chest. His hips were between her thighs, but he held himself above her. “You are not a monster.” His voice was almost a growl. “You are a woman with a good and pure heart. I know this. No matter what has become entangled deep in your soul, you are Rhiannon, my treasure.”
Keir lowered his head and his lips met hers. He just brushed them lightly across her mouth. Taking nothing, demanding nothing.
Right now she wanted to forget everything else—to push it away and be with this man. The fact that she could have lost him made her chest ache in ways she couldn’t define.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down so that their lips met harder. He groaned and teased her lower lip by biting it and she opened her mouth and let out a soft moan. He worked magic as he delved inside her mouth with his tongue and and tangled it with hers. He bit her lip again, so gently, so sensuously, it made her shiver.
His cock pressed against her belly, and she wanted to feel its length and girth inside her. She wanted the healing of their lovemaking.
She whimpered as they kissed and she brought her hand between them and rubbed the jeans covering his cock. He groaned and she undid the top button of his Levi’s and tugged the zipper down. He didn’t wear any underwear, and his cock slid out to meet her hand and she slipped it up and down his erection.
“Make love to me now, Keir.” She moved her lips along the scar on his cheek. “Please come inside of me.”
With a low growl, Keir pushed up her blouse and pulled on her bra, causing her breasts to jut out. All thoughts of pain and hurt and fear fled her mind as he suckled each of her nipples. She moaned with every lick and light bite.
He tugged at her skirt so that it was around her waist. He moved his hips up and down, rubbing his cock against her belly and her drenched panties. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his long black hair.
Keir grasped the side of her panties and yanked it so that the delicate material tore. He did the same to the other side of her underwear, then tossed the scrap away.
Rhiannon could barely breathe. His look was so intense … and caring.
He wrapped one of his hands around his erection and pushed his cock into her core just a fraction. She shivered, knowing what was coming next. Anticipating it. He reached up and took her arms from around his neck and laced his fingers in hers. He stretched her arms way over her head at the same time he drove his cock into her core.
Rhiannon gasped, then sighed at the pleasure of having him inside of her. It felt so good, so right.
His T-shirt brushed her nipples, making them beyond hard and sensitive. She wrapped her legs around his hips and felt the powerful flex of his taut ass beneath his jeans as he took her. She fell into the pleasure of the rhythm of his movements and under the spell of his gaze as his dark eyes met with hers.
Everything else slipped away for the moment.
His cock touched that sensitive spot inside her and she felt a climax building so fast it was like a storm rising within her. A storm that matched the intensity in his gaze and the growing power of his thrusts. With her arms over her head, her fingers interlocked with his, she felt both helpless and empowered at the same time.
Keir murmured words in Gaelic. Somehow hearing him speak in a language she didn’t understand made her hotter, pushed her that much closer to reaching orgasm.
She clenched her thighs tighter around his hips and cried out with every brush of his chest over her nipples, every stroke of his cock in her core.
Everything seemed to spiral inside her at once. Sensation gathered in her abdomen, deep heat grew into a blazing inferno that shot its flames through her from her pussy to the ends of her fingers and her toes. She cried out louder than she had before. Her other climaxes with Keir had all been so unbelievable, but this one was different. It rocked her in ways that none of the other orgasms had done. And, yes, it was almost … healing.
She was so lost in the sensations, the feelings, the fire, that she barely heard Keir’s shout, barely felt the pulse of his cock inside her. She shuddered with another wave of pleasure as he released her hands and drew her close, his cock still inside her as he pulled her with him.
Rhiannon snuggled up next to him. It might be temporary, but at this moment, all she cared about was being in Keir’s arms.
And forgetting the terrors dwelling inside her.
The following morning, Rhiannon made her way into Enchantments. A heaviness had settled in her belly as soon as she woke to find Keir gone.
She hadn’t even had the desire to dress in vivid colors like she normally did. She’d dug out a simple white blouse, blue jeans, and blue jogging shoes. As usual she wore her jewelry, but she didn’t feel as protected this time.
Her head ached and her chest hurt, and she knew Ceithlenn and the Shadows were there … waiting.
Spirit silently ran circles around her feet as they went to the New Age café/store. When she glanced down at him she could swear a reproachful look was on his face, as if he didn’t think she should be out of bed.
Once she was in the store, before she went to the kitchen, Rhiannon stopped at the jewelry counter, where a college student was manning the register. The witches, of course, couldn’t begin to have time to run the store—certainly not while fighting evil. So they hired college students as employees. Their Coven needed the income and it gave a semblance of normalcy to what was currently an abnormal life.
She smiled at the student briefly before going to the back of the jewelry case and opening it. She withdrew a gold pagan protection-knot pendant on a long chain and slipped it over her neck. She needed all the help she could get.
After the employee had logged in her purchase on the computer, she headed to the kitchen. She nodded to another employee handling the café business then pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen with Spirit at her heels.
Rhiannon came up short as she saw that all of her Coven sisters were sitting around the table with their divination tools, and Galia was perched on the back of Cassia’s chair.
They all glanced at her. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Sydney asked, concern on her features.
Rhiannon’s belly twisted and her body flushed with heat. She hoped the anger and hurt didn’t show on her face. “You’re divining without me?”
Cassia gave Rhiannon a look that was nonjudgmental. “If you think you’re well enough to join us, then we would have it no other way.”
Rhiannon raised her chin and pulled up a seat between Alyssa and Cassia.
Cassia said to all the witches, “When it’s your turn to divine, put the remaining piece of fingernail near you so that it’s possible to get readings from it that will help with your visions.”
Rhiannon shuddered and goose bumps sprouted on her skin at the sight of the fingernail. The pain in her head and chest was almost unbearable.
“I’ll go first.” Alyssa used the small tongs off the table to place the nail near the red taper in front of her. She set the tongs down and adjusted the dragon candleholder. “I’ve chosen red to summon defense against that which threatens or opposes.” Alyssa used a match to light the candle, sending a breath of the apple-scented candle as well as the smell of sulfur Rhiannon’s way. Alyssa added, “The dragon is for protection, love, and healing.”
Alyssa’s soft brown curls settled around her face as she gazed into the dancing flame. Her talent was causmomancy, the ability to see the past, present, or future in fire. Rhiannon’s heart rate picked up as she watched Alyssa’s light complexion grow paler.
When Alyssa looked up at the circle of witches, her brown eyes were wide. Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I saw her. It was C—the goddess, just as Copper, Silver, and Rhiannon have described her. She did get on that bus and suck the souls out of all those people.” Her voice trembled and a tear rolled down her cheek. “And she ate—she ate—”
Alyss
a pushed away from the table, bolted for the sink, and retched. Cassia went to her and gently stroked Alyssa’s curls as she helped the witch catch her breath and rinse her mouth out. When Alyssa returned to the table she stared blindly at the taper, her face whiter than pearls.
Rhiannon squeezed Alyssa’s hand under the table. “It’s okay, honey. We know. You don’t have to think about it anymore.”
Alyssa nodded, but a tear still tracked down her cheek.
The next person to go was Hannah. The matter-of-fact, pain-in-the-ass witch had her black scrying mirror in front of her. After she used the tongs to move the fingernail to her, she took a vial of sea salt crystals and poured some onto her palm.
Hannah held her hand high and studied the patterns of the salt crystals in the air as they trickled from her hand. When each crystal had landed on the mirror, she turned her attention to its dark surface.
Like always, the salt scattered across the surface of the black glass, but not one grain fell off its edges—part of the magic of the mirror and Hannah’s divination talent. The mirror was held within an ornate frame of two dragons, each biting the tail of the other so that it was a never-ending circle.
Hannah’s single chunk of blond hair swung forward as she studied her mirror and the salt crystals. With an annoyed expression she swept the hair behind her ear to join with the dark brown hair. Her talent was alomancy, the ability to analyze the grains of salt as they were tossed into the air and the patterns they made as they fell on the mirror.
That’s Hannah. Always analyzing, Rhiannon thought.
Hannah’s lips thinned and her brown eyes narrowed. When she raised her head, a scowl shadowed her beautiful features. “More Fomorii than we thought escaped Underworld before the door was shut. Not to mention other wicked creatures I can’t define in my mirror. We’re outnumbered. Way, way, way outnumbered. There aren’t enough D’Danann, PSF officers, or witches to fight them all.”
Wicked Magic Page 15