The Awakening (Immortals)

by Joy Nash

  The Unseelie succeeded in dislodging the strands of sea spray with a vicious shake. The necklace sailed through the air. Christine made a jump for it and missed. It arced over her fingers and disappeared into the smoke on the lower level.

  A low snarl snapped her attention back to the Unseelie. The thing had gone still, watching her with an unnerving intelligence in its red eyes. Christine gripped the railing at her back. She could jump, but the drop was at least twenty feet.

  The Unseelie hissed and started slowly forward, its wings rising malevolently. Christine held her ground, intent on the creature’s every movement. Without the necklace, she’d have to touch it to use her magic. If she could only lay hands on it before it killed her…

  The creature lunged. She dove at the same instant, grabbing hold of its clawed foot. Sharp, wiry hairs bit into her palm, sending sparks of pain up her arm. She ignored it and held tight. Unseelies, unlike demons, were flesh and blood. She drew on the water in the creature’s body, centering her power on it.

  Life magic burst through her fingers. The Unseelie reared with a hideous screech, twisting and flailing. It was young, she realized, recently spawned and not yet secure in its power. She’d wounded it gravely. Twisting out of her grip, it launched itself with a bone-chilling screech over the railing, plummeting into the thick smoke below. There was a dull thud, then silence.

  She leaned over the rail, searching for movement. Nothing. Had she killed it? A sharp pang of regret twisted in her chest. The thing had been hideous, a creature of darkness, but it had been alive. And now it wasn’t.

  She had no time to dwell on the thought. A soul-curdling scream—human—split the air. She spun around. Not ten feet in front of her, another Unseelie had staggered out of the smoke, dragging a hysterical human male behind it. Before Christine could react, the snarling monster scooped the man up and wrenched his head from his shoulders.

  Blood spewed. With an eager hiss, the Unseelie fitted its gaping maw over the corpse’s mutilated neck. Its distended throat worked as the monster swallowed greedy gulps of its victim’s blood.

  “Holy Goddess,” Christine breathed. The Unseelie must have heard—it looked up, grunted, and dropped its prize. Its filmy gaze fixed on Christine as a long, slimy tongue snaked between its thick lips to swipe a trickle of blood from the corner of its mouth.

  With a hiss, it loped toward Christine. Horror rose, choking her. No time for tender feelings—she wanted the thing dead. Now. She dove, sliding through slick gore to catch hold of the Unseelie’s lumpy leg. Calling the deepest wave of power she could muster, she blasted the full force of it through her hands. The thing shrieked as the living magic hit. It crashed to the floor, writhing in pain and fury.

  “Gods in Annwyn, what the holy fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  A blast of elfshot whizzed past Christine’s ear. It struck the Unseelie in the chest, burning a hole through its tough blueblack hide. The thing convulsed, then lay still. Rough hands grabbed Christine from behind and hauled her to her feet.

  “Mac,” she panted. “Thank the Goddess.”

  “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  “Helping you and Kalen.”

  He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “Help? Is that what you call this? Believe me, love, Kalen and I don’t need this kind of help. Everything’s under control”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” Christine said dryly. She gripped Mac’s shoulder as a wave of vertigo spun the room.

  “Whoa, love.” Mac’s arm tightened around her. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. But where’s Kalen?” The fear she’d been holding back erupted. “Oh, gods, has he—?”

  “Killed anything? No. He’s there, see?”

  Mac jerked his chin to the left. Christine followed the motion. The smoke had dissipated enough for her to make out what was going on. With sharp relief she spied Kalen on the gallery’s center dais, holding a protective shield around the humans who’d taken refuge there. The Sidhe were scattered about the room, blasting the Unseelies. Many had fallen—others were diving out the windows. The tide of the battle had indeed turned.

  “See?” Mac said. “No worries. We’re just about through here.”

  “No worries? I just saw a man decapitated!”

  “Yes, well, that bloke wouldn’t stay behind Kalen’s shield, now, would he? Humans.” He gave a disgusted shake of his head. “The lot of you have the hardest time taking orders.”

  The last of the Unseelies leaped into the night. Mac shouted orders for the Sidhe to give chase. Christine breathed a sigh of relief, only to suck in her breath again when Kalen appeared, his handsome face twisted with rage. He grabbed her by both shoulders and shook, hard.

  “You! I told you to stay outside.”

  She stiffened her spine. “Yes, well, I was hardly going to sit quietly by while you were in danger.”

  Kalen swore. “You little idiot! You could have been killed.”

  Their eyes met. Clung.

  “You risked far more than I did,” she said quietly.

  “Christine.” Kalen’s voice was raw.

  A noise in the foyer drew Christine’s attention. “Bloody hell, look who’s here,” Mac said, looking over the railing to the level below. “I am going to kill that fucking bitch.”

  Christine peered around Kalen to see Leanna gliding up the stair, a translucent white mantle wrapped seductively around her voluptuous body. She looked like a Greek goddess. Four Sidhe half-breeds, including the phooka driver, climbed the steps behind her. Leanna stepped daintily over an Unseelie corpse, advancing until she stood face-to-face with Kalen.

  “Why, my dear Immortal Warrior. You really should have invited me to your little party. After all, I went to so much trouble to liven it up for you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “You,” Kalen spat. “You did this.” Gods. How had he ever thought Leanna desirable? Now, with very little provocation, he could kill her. If Mac didn’t wring her neck first.

  Leanna surveyed the gallery with an air of satisfaction. Kalen followed her gaze, focusing for the first time on the damage the battle had wrought. The paintings, including most of Christine’s, were damaged beyond repair—drenched in slime, slashed, or covered with blood. Furniture was no more than charred leather and chrome, silver serving trays littered the floor. The surviving humans huddled on the dais, too frightened to move.

  But by far the worst was the sight of the dead bodies sprawled across the gallery floor. Most were Unseelies, but some—some were not. Humans lay in puddles of their own blood. He caught sight of a ripped faerie wing and the bloodless face of a Selkie, half hidden by an overturned table. Bile rose in Kalen’s throat. These were his guests, his responsibility. And he hadn’t protected them.

  A smile tugged at Leanna’s red lips. “I say, quite a show. I’m so sorry to have missed it.”

  Mac looked as though he were about to explode. “You’re dealing with forces you don’t understand, Leanna.”

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, big brother. You may not understand—how could you, being so far removed from death magic? But I? With my Sidhe heritage and tainted human blood? I draw power from depths you could only dream of.”

  “Demonwhore,” Mac ground out. “Where’s your mistress? Here? Lurking outside? Let’s have her come in and face me rather than sending her slave to do her bidding.”

  Leanna’s laughter drifted like an obscenity over the carnage. “Ah, so passionate.” She licked her lips. “Too bad you never put your wilder emotions to good use, brother. I certainly have. The Unseelies are just the beginning. Just a little display, Kalen, to show you how displeased I am with you.” Her gaze flicked to Christine for the first time. “You chose this mousy little witch over me? You’ll toss her aside. Because if you don’t, the future will be far, far worse than what happened here tonight.”

  “Don’t try it, Leanna,” Kalen warned.

  Mac started for her. “You’ve gone too far th
is time.”

  “Not nearly far enough.” Leanna swung about, facing Mac, and raised a hand. A subtle red aura sprang to life before her, curving like a shield.

  Mac struck it and recoiled, cursing. “Demon magic.”

  Leanna dismissed her brother with a sneer. “Stay in your place, Mackie.” She turned back to Kalen, her pale eyes taking on a sultry glitter. Her power gathered, potent and alluring.

  The erotic magic was stronger than it ever had been. Stronger and more compelling. Leanna was a dream, a goddess, impossible for any human man to resist. Kalen couldn’t tear his gaze from her as she shrugged the loose mantle from her shoulders. The fine fabric sifted over her ivory skin. It slid down her arms, whispered over her breasts, and crested her taut nipples. Grazed her hips and pooled in a shining puddle at her feet. His human blood boiled. His lower body clenched, his phallus thickening and lengthening.

  Magic poured from her, sexual magic, muse magic, impossible for Kalen’s human half to resist. She was naked before him, her body a magnificent work of art, finer than any nude displayed in oil on canvas. She ran her hands up her body and cupped her breasts, offering them to his touch.

  He fought the urge to accept her invitation. Against his will, he lifted one hand. His palm hovered above her breast.

  “Kalen.” Mac’s voice was low and urgent.

  Dimly he became aware of Mac and Christine standing on either side of him. Mac, who had no human blood, was unaffected by his sister’s magic. Christine’s reaction was one of unadulterated disgust. The emotion poured from her in waves. It snapped him back to himself.

  His hand fell to his side. “No.”

  “No?” Leanna’s denial was a shrill screech. “You cannot deny me! I have what you need. What you crave.”

  “You have nothing.”

  “Have you given up your dream of creating a masterpiece? You know you need my magic for that.”

  Christine drew in a sharp breath. “What do you mean?”

  Leanna’s attention grazed her. “I’m leannan-sidhe. A love muse. Men sacrifice their lives and their souls in return for my inspiration. Kalen, Immortal though he is, is no exception. His talent is mediocre at best. He craves my touch. My magic.”

  “Is that true?” Christine’s whisper was raw. Kalen felt her horror, her shame. “Oh, Goddess. You said I was your inspiration. Did you mean that your talent wasn’t your own? That it came from me?”

  “Christine—”

  “You used me. You made love to me for my magic. And I never even realized it.…”

  Leanna’s pale eyes sparked. “Ah, now I begin to understand how you were able to reject me so easily. You thought to replace my muse magic with hers. That’s why you took her.”

  “I took her to save her from you.”

  “But that’s not why you kept her, is it?”

  Christine’s eyes were on him. He couldn’t lie to her. “No. That’s not why I kept her.”

  “You don’t need her anymore,” Leanna breathed. “You have me. Give me your Immortal child and create a masterpiece beyond anything you’ve imagined.” She approached him, running her hand down his chest. “Fuck me. Here. Now. In front of your human whore.”

  He drew back, startled beyond disgust. “You’re insane.”

  “No. I’m a force to be reckoned with. Give me what I want, Kalen, or my Old One will punish you.”

  “Bring the demon in,” Mac growled. “I’ll fight her.”

  “Oh no, I think not. We have another plan. One that concerns all those little faeries and halflings camped by the ocean waiting for the Gates of Annwyn to open. Just think of them, trapped there in that cove. When the wards break, as they did on this building, there will be quite a lot of lovely blood.”

  Mac made a sound of absolute fury. “You won’t harm a single one of them. I’ll see you dead first.”

  Leanna laughed. “My death won’t stop the carnage. Kill me, and my master will only attack all the more quickly.”

  “No,” Kalen cut in. “There’s been enough killing. I won’t allow any more. I’ll give you what you want, Leanna. But not here, in the midst of all this death. Meet me at your hotel, at sunset.”

  She eyed him. “And you’ll give me an Immortal child.”

  “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “How do I know you’ll be there?”

  “You have my word.”

  “Your word,” Leanna sneered. “How quaint. I’m sorry, but that’s not good enough.”

  Kalen crossed his arms. “It will have to be, Leanna. Sunset tonight or never. You choose.”

  She searched his gaze for a long moment; then her lips thinned. “Sunset. Not a minute after.” She cast a derisive glance at Mac. “I know my brother can’t open the Gates that quickly. But if I don’t get what I want tonight, there will be carnage before dawn. You may take that as my word.”

  “Understood.” Kalen stepped back. “Now go. We have work here.”

  Her gaze swept the ruined gallery, lingering on the huddle of terrified humans on the dais. She smiled. “But of course you do. Until sunset, then.”

  Turning, she swept down the stair, still regally, brazenly naked. Dougal and the other half-breeds closed rank behind her. A moment later, she disappeared through the shattered doors.

  Mac let out a long breath. “You can’t mean to go to her.”

  “I can’t let her unleash an Old One on a refugee camp.” Kalen glanced at Christine, then sent Mac a long, hard look, willing him to hear what he didn’t want to say out loud. That he didn’t intend to impregnate Leanna. He intended to kill her and the Old One she served.

  Mac’s brows rose. The lad was quick; he shut up directly, though his expression promised an argument later.

  Kalen turned to Christine. “I’ll take you back to the castle now.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh no. You’re not getting rid of me that—”

  His tone could have cut steel. “You’ll return to the castle. Mac will take you to Annwyn tomorrow.”

  “How thick is your Immortal skull? I’m not going back to your castle, and I’m not going to Annwyn. If I’m going anywhere, it’s to Seattle.”

  The thought of Christine preparing for a battle with his youngest brother and gods knew what other fetid followers of darkness made Kalen’s blood run cold. He took in her determined expression and made a decision. He only hoped she wouldn’t curse him for it.

  “All right, then. I’ll take you to Adrian. Get ready for the jump.”

  She blinked. “Right now?”

  “Yes.”

  All the color drained from her face. “No. I don’t want to travel by portal. I—”

  “No arguments, Christine. The only way you’re going to go to the States is if I take you there, my way.”

  She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  Kalen’s arms came around her in a bruising hold. Christine closed her eyes and braced for the nauseating rush of his magic. Portal travel seemed to take longer the farther the distance involved was. How long would it take to get all the way to Seattle? She felt his power fade—one, two, three long seconds. Then came that brief instant—the one she’d taken shameless advantage of outside the gallery—when Kalen was no more powerful than a mundane man.

  When his magic surged back, it was with a vivid blast far too strong for any mortal flesh to contain. A portal opened. The floor fell away, her stomach heaved, and a screeching roar sounded in her ears. Her body detonated. For a terrifying stretch of time, only Kalen existed, her anchor in a maelstrom.

  Much more quickly than she expected, she felt a solid surface under her feet. She sagged against Kalen. Now that she was finally here, in Seattle, she didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want to admit her time with him was really over.

  “Steady,” he whispered, guiding her a few feet ahead to a cushioned seat. Her fingers spread on brocaded silk and intricately carved wood.

  Her eyes flew open. Kalen was kneeling before her, an expression of d
eep concern on his face. She looked past him to the image of the Mona Lisa, casting her secret smile over Kalen’s bedroom.

  A deadweight pressed her chest. “You lied to me.”

  Guilt flashed through his eyes. “For your own good. I won’t let you sacrifice yourself. I need you safe.”

  She resisted a surge of nausea. “You need me safe? Or my magic?”

  When he didn’t immediately answer, she drew a harsh breath and continued. “You used me. Like you used Leanna.” She was an idiot not to realize she had muse magic. After all, she’d had the same effect on Shaun as on Kalen. “You never loved me for myself, did you?”

  He wouldn’t look at her. “That’s not true.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t keep me here for my magic?”

  He rose. “I did at first, I admit.” He seemed to want to say more, but in the end he set his jaw and crossed the room to the bellpull. A few moments later, Pearl appeared in the doorway. Her sharp eyes widened as she took in Kalen and Christine’s gory clothes and bedraggled appearance.

  “Prepare a bath. Immediately.”

  The housekeeper nodded. “At once.”

  The brownies appeared almost instantly, dragging the copper tub to its place by the fire, scampering back and forth with buckets of water. Christine watched them dispassionately, too tired to move. Her heart was aching, both with the revelation that Kalen had used her and the knowledge that he’d soon return to Leanna’s bed.

  “Are you really going back to her?”

  He still didn’t look at her. “I have no choice. I can’t risk her loosing an Old One on Mac’s refugees. But I don’t mean to give her a child. I only mean to keep her occupied until Mac can get the Gates open.”

  Keep her occupied. With lovemaking.

  She wanted to beg him not to go. But she didn’t, because she sensed it would do no good. There was a new severity about him, a harsh look about his eyes and mouth that told her his decision was made. He couldn’t fight and kill to save innocent souls, so he would do this.

  And she couldn’t hate him for it.

  “I love you,” she said simply.