Wicked Magic

by Cheyenne McCray

  Tryok bowed low.

  When he raised his head again, she said, “See that they are prepared to go to war on my notice.”

  “Yes, my goddess.”

  Ceithlenn flapped her wings and rose in the air. She clenched her fists at her sides and said to herself. “As soon as we locate Balor and retrieve the eye, we will go to war on San Francisco. And then the world.”

  She narrowed her own eyes until they were mere slits. “And I will find Darkwolf.”

  Chapter 37

  Darkness was nothing new to Balor. Nor was the hatred pumping through his heart.

  He felt his way down a sewage tunnel, his palms running along the rough surface of the stone-like walls. His bare legs and feet splashed through filth that reminded him of Underworld.

  He was sick of Underworld.

  For centuries he had plotted and planned with his Ceith, and for one glorious moment they had come so close to realizing their goals.

  To be the only gods of the old world to rule this Otherworld again.

  Balor let out a roar that echoed through the sewage tunnel.

  Then he paused, his entire body going tense.

  He felt the presence of his eye.

  Darkwolf.

  Somewhere … near.

  Balor smiled.

  Chapter 38

  By the time Rhiannon reached her apartment, she was ready to drop into a pile of complete and utter exhaustion. Her arms ached, her legs ached, her head ached. Actually, she didn’t think there was a place on her body that didn’t ache.

  And her gut hurt so bad to know that they’d lost the battle. Oh, they’d defeated the Fomorii that were there, but Ceithlenn, Balor, Darkwolf, and Junga were all free. Not to mention all of those people dead. Thousands of them.

  Her heart jerked with pain. They hadn’t saved all those people.

  And if her visions were right, there was a whole army of Fomorii ready to swarm her city.

  Some of the D’Danann, because of the iron-tipped claws, their wounds would never heal. A few had been killed and passed on to Summerland. Then the PSF officers—so many dead. And too many wounded to count.

  No sooner had she shut the apartment door behind her than she heard a loud knock. More like a thunderstorm. Dear Anu. She really didn’t want to deal with Keir right now.

  Rhiannon turned the knob and opened the door just a crack to see the big warrior in the hall. “Listen, I’m tired and—”

  Keir pushed his way into her apartment and caught her by her upper arms when she stumbled back.

  She was too tired and upset to be angry. “Not now, Keir.” He slammed the door shut with his boot, jerked her to him, and gave her a hard kiss that made her head spin.

  When he drew away, she widened her eyes at the look of tenderness on his face. Then he brought her to him, crushing her to his length with his embrace. “I do not know how I will be able to accept you putting yourself into danger any further.”

  “But you will,” she said against his chest. “You have to.”

  For a long time he held her, his big, rough hands stroking her face and hair. She allowed herself to sink into his embrace. It felt so good being in his arms. Letting him comfort her, letting him make her feel like everything would be all right—

  Even though she knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t going to be all right at all.

  In the hour before dawn, while it was still fairly dark outside, Rhiannon tugged on a lime green T-shirt and turquoise jeans before fluffing her hair and studying her face in the mirror. The sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks stood out in sharp relief against her pale features. Yesterday had taken a toll on all of those who’d fought, and she could see it in her own eyes and on her face.

  She wore her gold-and-onyx necklace, earrings, and ring as usual, and somehow they made her feel a little more secure.

  Yet her thoughts continued to turn to the dangers they all faced.

  Without help, how could the D’Danann and the D’Anu possibly defeat Ceithlenn and Balor? Never mind the horde of Fomorii still loose in the city.

  Rhiannon stuffed her feet into socks and then lime green running shoes. When she got up this morning, Keir had been gone, and she’d found herself disappointed not to have his arms around her when she’d woken. He’d just held her last night after she’d taken a shower. It had soothed her enough that she’d been able to fall into a deep, exhausted sleep.

  Rhiannon walked out of her bedroom and Spirit jumped out of his cat bed, meowed, and began running circles around her feet.

  The TV caught her attention, black and silent where it was positioned in the whitewashed entertainment center. The last time she had turned it on she’d been playing a video game and fighting spiders with a hobbit.

  In this war she felt like a little hobbit fighting a giant Shelob with only a small sword for defense. What was it that Frodo had on his side that she needed to defeat Ceithlenn?

  Intelligence. Fortitude. Determination.

  But she needed a whole hell of a lot of help against her giant spider.

  She thought of Keir being her Sam. Not exactly a good comparison. He was more like Aragorn but with a few—a lot—rougher edges.

  The moment she flipped on the TV her gut sickened she felt as if she was going to puke.

  Rhiannon flipped from station to station. On one channel a reporter spoke as a camera panned the rows and rows of the stadium. The fact that it was barely dawn didn’t keep them from seeing shriveled corpses and people with gas masks carrying the bodies to waiting trucks.

  Another channel showed a reporter talking about the “San Francisco Stadium Slaughter,” her features tight and drawn. “ … a terrorist attack using biochemical warfare is what law enforcement agencies are disseminating to the public.

  “This despite what was caught on camera during what should have been an exhibition game between the San Francisco Giants and the San Diego Padres. Footage that some have called nothing more than a poorly made sci-fi flick used to trick people into believing the attack was not by terrorists.”

  While Rhiannon’s mind reeled, the newscaster went on about panic. Riots. Curfews. Tight security. Martial Law. The Red Cross and other emergency response teams coming to the city to help with the devastation. Military units being deployed from all over the United States. Responses from foreign countries.

  It was all coming down like 9/11.

  What else could she have expected?

  Rhiannon’s knees gave out and she sank down onto her couch as the battle they’d fought yesterday was shown from one angle to another. It felt like she was standing outside herself as she watched the battle play out.

  Ceithlenn appeared on the mound. Bizarre and terrible all at once. When the witches and PSF officers charged onto the field, so many Fomorii flooded from the stands that it became hard to make out anyone. But then the D’Danann arrived, those who became visible when they folded their wings away and battled the Fomorii on the field. The D’Danann fought with swords that glinted in the afternoon sunlight.

  Rhiannon couldn’t stop herself from watching the news program. Demons crumbling, D’Danann vanishing to Summerland, PSF officers dying. More fighting. Witches flinging balls of light and glittering ropes.

  Seeing it on television felt completely surreal. And when she spotted herself and Keir fighting, it seemed even more so.

  All seven witches had been caught on film.

  Rhiannon swallowed. They weren’t safe. They would be recognized and either blamed for what happened or hounded by news reporters and people from all walks of life. The terror in the city would be so high their lives would be in danger.

  Out of morbid curiosity, she flipped to another station.

  The camera was focused right on Enchantments.

  Her jaw dropped as she saw the store and apartment building cordoned off with yellow police tape and police barricades—and hundreds of people yelling and shouting. Some carried signs.

  Rhiannon nearly jumped off th
e couch when her cell phone rang. She grabbed it off the end table and flipped it open. “Pack a duffel with some clothing and get to the back door to the kitchen of Enchantments right away,” came Jake’s voice. “And use one of your witch’s glamours when you leave the building. I’m calling everyone else. The D’Danann have already been notified. Hurry.”

  Rhiannon’s throat constricted. “I’ll be right there.”

  After she snapped her cell shut, she rushed to stuff some jeans and T-shirts, and underwear and socks into her pink duffel bag. She scooped up Spirit, who gave a loud meow, as she headed for the front door.

  The television was still blaring when she locked the door behind her and hurried down the hallway. Even before she made it all the way downstairs she heard the roar of a crowd. She grasped her belly and nearly doubled over.

  Oh, my goddess.

  A touch on her shoulder startled her so badly she almost dropped her duffel and Spirit. Rhiannon straightened to see Mackenzie, who was pale-faced and gripping an overstuffed backpack. Draped on one of her arms was her ferret familiar.

  “What are we going to do?” Mackenzie asked as she glanced behind them.

  Rhiannon followed her gaze to see Silver with a backpack in her hand and her python familiar curled around her shoulders.

  “We’re going to get the hell out of here, that’s what,” came Copper’s voice from the stairwell. Her honeybee familiar buzzed around her head, then settled on the curve of her ear.

  As the four witches made their way down to the first floor, they were joined by Alyssa and her owl familiar, Alyssa carrying her own traveling bag. Her arm was bandaged from the battle at the stadium.

  Cassia was the only other witch who lived in the apartments. Hannah and Sydney had their own homes in San Francisco. How were they going to get here?

  The noise was almost deafening when they stood just inside the apartment doors. Through the foggy windows, Rhiannon saw just what she’d seen on TV—police officers had cordoned off the street from the apartment building all the way to Enchantments’ front door. Law enforcement officers were wearing riot gear and carrying rifles.

  Jake slipped into the doorway dressed for battle. “Are you ladies ready?”

  Rhiannon sucked in her breath as they nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  Each witch ran her hand in front of her face, drawing a glamour. They could see one another, but humans couldn’t see them. Their gear, clothing, and even their familiars were protected by the glamour.

  “Works,” Jake said. “I sure as hell can’t see any of you now.”

  He pushed open the doors and the noise was nearly deafening. Shouts and cries came from the crowd that was filled with news reporters and cameras.

  “Witches!” someone cried. “Burn the fucking witches!”

  Now didn’t that take one back in time.

  They must have guessed they were witches by the shop they owned. Possibly by what they’d seen on TV. That might be a dead giveaway.

  What about Janis’s Coven? Had their place remained a secret in the chamber deep below Janis’s home? Rhiannon knew that at least that place was well protected with powerful wardings, and she was glad for them.

  But this—this was so not good. It wasn’t good at all for any Pagan witch when what they worked for was harmony and good in the world and the universe.

  Instead Ceithlenn had brought this upon all of them.

  The crowd and the noise were ten times as bad as what had been outside the theater. Jake strode to the back of the store, the witches following.

  When they slipped inside the shop, Hannah and her falcon were there, along with Sydney and her Doberman, and Cassia and her wolf. Several D’Danann warriors—including Keir, Hawk, and Tiernan—were also in the now very crowded kitchen.

  Galia fluttered over Keir’s shoulder, sprinkling pink Faerie dust all over him and probably making him smell like lilacs again. Another place, another time, Rhiannon would have thought it funny to see Keir covered in pink Faerie dust.

  His arm had been rebandaged, and she noticed bandages on a couple of the other D’Danann as well.

  Everyone, including Cassia, had a bag.

  “Where are we going?” Alyssa asked.

  Rhiannon knew exactly where before Cassia even said it. “Otherworld.” Cassia’s features had her normally calm expression and Rhiannon wanted to yell at her for not showing any kind of emotion. Their entire world was falling apart, for Anu’s sake!

  Cassia continued, “We will stay there until we find a new stronghold here in the city. But for now we need to go. We’ll think of some way to keep in contact with Jake.”

  It was still barely dawn as they slipped out the back door with the D’Danann. Goddess, the noise from the crowd was deafening.

  Rhiannon expected to walk to the park with her glamour for cover, but was surprised when the D’Danann each held on to a witch and took off into the sky.

  “Oh, no.” Rhiannon tried to back up as Keir wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’ll walk, really.” She had Spirit in one arm, her duffel slung over her opposite shoulder.

  “I will get you there safely,” Keir murmured in her ear just as he flapped his wings.

  It was all Rhiannon could do not to scream as she buried her face against his shirt and squeezed her eyes shut. She held Spirit so tight he yowled, but he didn’t struggle. She managed to cling to him with her other arm and keep her duffel over her shoulder.

  The roaring of the crowd gradually faded as they traveled farther from it. Rhiannon felt the rush of wind over her body and took deep gulps of air to try and calm her racing heart.

  Finally, they touched down in the park’s thick forest where the bridge to Otherworld spanned the small creek. She heard the voices of her Coven sisters and the D’Danann, but it still took her a few moments to pry her eyes open and step away from Keir. Her legs trembled just as badly as they had the first time they’d flown together.

  Rhiannon looked at the rest of the group. Everyone was solemn-faced.

  “This is it,” Copper said as she hitched her pack up higher on her shoulder. “Life as we’ve known it is truly over.”

  “I’ll escort those without Elvin blood, first, and the Faerie.” Cassia started by taking Hannah, Tegan, and Galia over the bridge. Next went Sydney and a D’Danann warrior Rhiannon didn’t know. After taking across Alyssa and another warrior, Cassia didn’t return as it wasn’t necessary since those witches left at the park did have Elvin blood. Of course their familiars all went with them.

  Copper and Tiernan crossed alone, as did Silver and Hawk—with their familiars. When it came time for Keir and Rhiannon to take their turn, they were the last. They looked at each other, then walked across the bridge as Rhiannon held Spirit tight in her arms.

  The now familiar sensations of crossing to Otherworld still made Rhiannon almost claustrophobic. She didn’t feel like they could breathe until they stumbled out into the sunshine. Spirit jumped from her arms and Keir steadied her.

  None of the other witches or warriors were around.

  Where was everyone?

  Rhiannon and Keir were standing on the transference stone. Rhiannon looked at Keir again, and he began to bend on one knee.

  She sensed the Great Guardian before she saw her.

  Rage spiked Rhiannon’s heart. She didn’t want to kneel. She wanted to yell. Scream. Tear out her hair and tear her clothing to shreds. How could she talk to this creature of peace when so much war crowded her mind?

  And yet, Rhiannon felt her knees bending. Felt her head lowering.

  “Rise,” came the serene voice of the Guardian.

  Rather than the calmness that being around the Elvin woman usually invoked in Rhiannon, what came out was all anger.

  “Why are we here?” she demanded as she straightened. “What do you want with us now? Nothing you suggested worked. We’re getting help from nowhere, and now we’ve even been kicked out of our home world. Everything is wrong. All wrong!”

&n
bsp; The Great Guardian looked at Rhiannon for a long moment. She didn’t seem angry at Rhiannon’s words, but her eyes held a blaze of urgency Rhiannon found unsettling. “Rhiannon Castle, D’Anu and Elvin, for you to gain the aid of others, you will have to learn how to open your heart.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding …” Rhiannon gestured wildly with her hands. “There’s a freaking war going on in my world with a bunch of demons and a soul-sucking goddess. What has opening my heart got to do with anything?”

  The Elvin woman moved closer and grasped Rhiannon’s hands. “Tell me your greatest burden, and all else will flow from that confession.”

  Rhiannon opened her mouth to talk about Ceithlenn, the devastation, the horrors they were facing, and the fact that they were no longer safe from even their own people.

  But that wasn’t what came out of her heart.

  “I don’t know if I can love.” She couldn’t believe the words that came pouring through her lips. What did they have to do with anything? But she couldn’t stop. The Guardian’s touch seemed to draw it out. Things that she was sure couldn’t relate to the war, but words she couldn’t stop.

  “The only love I know is what my Coven sisters have given me, and they mean everything to me.” Her heart felt as if it were tearing in half, pain squeezing her chest. “After being abandoned by my aunt, my parents, ex-lovers, my old Coven … I don’t think I’m capable of letting anyone else into my heart.”

  “You already have.” The Great Guardian smiled and released Rhiannon’s hands and motioned to Keir to step forward.

  When he was beside Rhiannon, the Elvin woman pressed their hands together. Rhiannon looked up at Keir and saw the warmth and caring … the love in his eyes. Her heart beat faster and a lump crowded her throat. Dear Anu, what were these feelings welling up inside her? The fierce ache in her heart and soul?

  “Rhiannon D’Anu and Elvin, what is your heart telling you now?” The Guardian’s words washed over Rhiannon like a sudden wave of confidence.

  “It’s telling me …” She licked her dry lips as her eyes met Keir’s. “It’s telling me that I love you, Keir. Everything about you from your arrogance to that gentle side you try to keep tucked away.”