by Sariah Skye
He quickly darted over to me, my mother distracted. He sliced at the vines with the tip of his blade and my hands were freed.
Wrinkling his nose, he bent over me, gagging as he quickly tore the ritual cloth off my body, and tossed it with repulsion to the ground.
“What are you doing?!” My mother shrieked, as she stumbled against the force of magic, trying to walk over to me.
My father flung out a hand, releasing a sightless force that rippled the air, and slammed against her. She screamed, and fell backward.
The pain beginning to subside, I managed to smile weakly at him. He bent over me, winking. “That’s my girl.”
He quickly unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it off himself, and wrapping it around me. He was taller than me, of course, and the clothing fell mid-thigh. He scooped me up in his arms, holding me close.
A feral, tribal yell rang out, and I craned my head weakly towards the sound. With my mother distracted, the magic faltered, allowing the boys to free themselves. Mathias’ body enlarged, and ripped apart the vines. Fully enraged, he turned, and with one swing, knocked out the devil man behind him.
With a leap, he jumped forward and closed the distance between us. “Ava?” His red-rimmed eyes sought me out, and I nodded feebly.
He offered a thankful nod to Lachlan, before turning on my mother.
He was joined by the rest of them. Xander called for his lightning—somehow finding it even down here. Bash collected the vials and bottles on the dais, and began mixing them together. Trystan joined in laying out the devil men, stealing a mace from one, and slamming it against another. He called out threats in Gaelic as he bludgeoned one, and went to the next.
“It’s almost over…” My father whispered to me. “I need to help.” Xander was nearest to him. He handed me off to him, with a single nod, Xander understood.
“I’ll get her out of here,” he said. He looked down at me, as I rested my tired head against his lithe chest. Offering me that sideways smile, I grinned, a little more of the pain escaping my body. “Just rest now, Avie. We got this.”
I nodded slowly, and my eyes rolled back into my head, and I slumped against him as the world went black.
CHAPTER 35
Lachlan
Now that my daughter was safe, I was free to go after her mother.
Morgaine.
The bane of my existence for more years than I could be bothered to count.
Slighted because I didn’t share her affections, she eventually sought revenge. I was the first person cursed as an incubus after a successful battle with King Arthur and his army. Apparently, she’d taken to summoning demons from the Underrealms; Avalon behaving as a perfect gate between our worlds. Shrouded by mists, covered with strong magic, the isle was hidden to outsiders. In the right hands, the magic of Avalon could heal and restore; in the wrong hands, it could curse and kill.
Her mother, and mother’s mother were honorable, and I never could be sure quite what happened. Maybe the immense power the isle contained had finally corrupted. I didn’t know, but somehow, she was just…wrong.
“Morgaine.” I uttered softly, upon seeing her wretched face—her real face, the one I had known for hundreds of years, and not the glamoured Marian Dawson I’d met twenty-five years ago.
I turned to see the blond male mix a tincture of substances, and pour it over the grail that held the power of Avalon. Morgaine shrieked, as the remaining magic from the grail was sucked into the ancient bowl, after encompassing the evil witch and my daughter both. But the damage had been done.
I watched as Ava thrashed against the Asian man’s chest. Her face contorted and uncomfortable, but he held her tightly. He whispered something I couldn’t hear to her calmly, and she slowly relaxed. My heart hurt seeing her hurt, but I breathed easier as the unfamiliar—to me—stranger comforted her. I knew Septimus—Mathias—many years ago, but his friends were strangers to me. However, he was honorable, and whoever he chose to keep company with? I knew had to be honorable as well. The look in his eyes told the story: if it wasn’t love he felt for my daughter, it was pretty damn close. I knew without a doubt there was no way he’d purposely let anything happen to her. It was tough to admit that to myself—and I felt foolish at the same time.
I’d been watching over her for some time, and the overprotective side of me reacted when I feared for a split second that Mathias was taking advantage of her in that club (yes, I was the one that hit him over the head in the hallway). Or the blond when he was groping her on the motorcycle (the gutter pipe that fell? That was also me). I knew now that was a completely foolish mistake. Not only were these men seemingly decent, but Ava was intelligent enough to not get herself into something she couldn’t handle. She was also an adult, and I needed to respect that. Except for this—but it couldn’t be helped. Her mother was devious, and probably had plotted this for years.
A loud crash interrupted my thoughts, and I spun to find the source of the noise. The redheaded man with the feather tattoos slammed a mace against a wall, opening the cavern.
“Xander! Take Ava, and go!” He bellowed. The man holding my daughter—Xander, I guess—wasted no time, whisking Ava out of the horrible cavernous room, nodding at me briefly before disappearing into the dark.
I punched my fist into my hand, cracking my knuckles before I outstretched my hands, and released my magic.
I had the same invisible magic as Ava; but it was so much more than being invisible. It was the ability to warp the “air” around you, changing its appearance. In some instances, changing around you to shroud your appearance, in others, changing it to a tangible force to grab objects, and even astral-projecting, which is what I had done in Ava’s vision of Avalon. Ava’s abilities were raw, of course—I hated not being able to help her hone them over the years. I knew though if her mother ever caught wind of me, she’d do something terrible to Ava; either force the magic of Avalon in her before she could take it successfully, or something quite worse. So, I had to remain hidden for all these years. Even though it broke my heart. I tried to find the source of the power, but she kept it hidden somehow. Probably, in the bowels of the Underrealms in which she channeled now to bring the power back to life. In other words, a place I wasn’t allowed to touch.
The pulse of my magic thrummed out from my hands, rippling the air like rocks thrown into a stream, and hit Morgaine.
She was flung backward with a wounded scream; and the power released from the grail lost its hold on her and hissed, winding its way back toward the ancient receptacle.
“You! Cover it!” I pointed at the blond man with the potion skills. He nodded quickly, and even though the magic probably hurt, he grabbed the lid of the rusted pot, and covered it.
Morgaine fell to the ground, and the red-headed man, and Mathias were on her, pinning her arms behind her back and holding her on the ground.
“No! It wasn’t complete! What did you do?” She complained, thrashing against her captors, but Mathias with his inhuman strength was not going to let her go.
“As I said,” he said, towering over her, “I am going to kill you.”
For the first time since the ritual began, she noticed the red rimmed around Mathias’ enraged eyes, and was afraid. “You…you can’t.”
I sighed, sheathing the knife I carried. “Unfortunately, she’s right. You can’t kill her. She contains at least some of the powers of Avalon. The isle, not my daughter.”
The blond fumbled with a glass bottle he held, dropping it on the stone ground. It shattered, and he stood there staring at me, flummoxed. “Y-you’re her father? Lancelot? It’s true, then.”
I nodded. “It’s Lachlan Steele now; I haven’t been called Lancelot in many, many years,” I said wryly.
His head bobbed slowly, but he said nothing.
“Och, yer her father?” The redheaded man uncomfortably scratched at his neck, looking guilty.
I chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to go crazy on you. I might be her father in
blood, but that doesn’t make me a dad. I can’t really control her life.”
“But, ye came. You helped her—us—somehow,” he said, extending a hand. “That makes ye all right.”
I clasped his forearm. “Toilichte coinneachadh riut.” I greeted in his native tongue.
He flinched, surprised. “Trystan. It’s a pleasure to meet ye as well.”
“We can only subdue her for the time being. But killing her would release the remainder of power into the world, weakening the gate between here and the Underrealms, or it might find Ava, and there’s no telling what the full power would do to her,” I explained.
“She would be fine! You’d see if you hadn’t interrupted me! I could have drawn from it—helped you!” Morgaine protested.
I laughed shortly. “You’ve never done anything to help anyone else, ever. Least of all me. Just what would you hope to accomplish with the power of Avalon?”
She snorted. “I’d bring back my Sisters. We’d help anyone who came to us for healing.”
I shook my head. “For a price of course.”
She avoided my gaze, looking guilty, but only momentarily.
“Of course.” I scoffed, pointing at the blond. “I’m sorry—I didn’t really get your name. I only saw you briefly on your motorbike as you were snogging my daughter. You have great wards on your property, by the way.”
He stifled a choked cough. “Sebastian. I, ah—you saw that?”
I grinned impishly. “Of course, Sebastian. I’ve been watching over her for a long time. Morgaine’s wards kept me from her most of the time, but any time she left, her wards couldn’t follow. I kept track of her any time I could. Four men after my baby girl? How do you think a dad would react to that?”
The three men shifted uncomfortably, even Mathias’ eyes blinked quickly.
I joined Sebastian at the dais. “Anything useful to help keep these wretches stuck down here?”
Sebastian scanned the remaining items. “Not so much. We can hold her captive, and come up with something later. If I can get to my computer—”
I waved him off. “No time. I’m surprised she’s still here,” I whispered to him.
“What do we do about—” Sebastian said, motioning to the still bodies of Morgaine’s mindless witch allies on the ground. They were probably still alive, but barely. I knew Morgaine had kept them only alive to benefit herself; any more than that, they might gain power to overthrow her. Morgaine didn’t have allies; she had minions.
“Leave them. They’re little more than shells, anyhow,” I said. “They deserve a peaceful rest; it wasn’t their fault. They were controlled by Morgaine.”
The air nearby cracked, and I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Lan—err, Lachlan?” Trystan stood behind me, motioning behind him.
Mathias stood there, empty handed, looking bewildered. The ancient Roman was as aged as I was, maybe even older. Though, he didn’t appear over late-twenties at the eldest. We’d met many years ago on the battlefield. But that was a tale for another time.
“She…just…disappeared. Into thin air,” he said, in a bemused tone. “There was nothing I could do.”
I sighed outwardly. “I know. I’m surprised she was subdued this long. With the power of the Isle of Avalon she has now, it made her that much more powerful, I guess. Hopefully, it won’t last…” I dusted my hands off on my pants.
Mathias shook himself out of his angered strength rage, and stood slowly. He stepped towards me. “It is good to see you again, old friend.”
I opened my arms to the side, and we embraced briefly.
“I sent your friend off with Ava. I’m sure she’s safe, but you should probably find her and just…check,” I said, awkwardly. “Given everything that has happened, she’ll be more comfortable around you all, and not me.”
Mathias shook his head quickly. “I don’t believe it.”
“No, man. The look in her eyes…she was…relieved to see you,” Sebastian added. “Come with us back to our place. I’m sure that’s where Xander took her anyhow.”
“Aye. We have much to discuss.”
I nodded once in agreement. “All right.” We left the destructed scene behind, after a quick once-over to ensure nothing of use remained.
The cavern was deep underground—being so near the Underrealms, it wasn’t surprising. We managed to navigate our way through the many twists and turns, and eventually found ourselves in a noisy, bustling room.
“This must be the Underground,” Mathias had mused. It appeared to be a fancy bar, with several bartenders in extremely skimpy clothing, performing acrobatic feats with their liquor as they poured.
The room was dark, surrounded with red lights that outlined the walls and made a grid on the floor. Round tables were scattered about, and swanky club goers swayed in time with the music on the stage. A young woman, with questionable “human” heritage crooned into an old-fashioned, silver-bullet microphone.
Two other “people”—probably supes—danced in cages on either side of the stage. One of them, a nimble male with a trim waist, and dark skin and hair. “What do you think?” I said to the nearest guy—Trystan I think. “Nymph?”
Trystan eyeballed the gentleman. “Aye,” he agreed. “Strange place for him.”
“How about the other one?” I asked him.
His gaze followed mine to the pretty redhead in the other cage. She spun and shook her hips, a skirt riding low on her waist. His mouth went agape. “Enough about the redhead. See that girl dancing with her?”
I hadn’t noticed the tall, caramel skinned brunette with the crazy-tall shoes until Trystan pointed her out. “Summer.”
I exchanged a nod with the other men, and we made our way across the room to her. Mathias tapped her on the shoulder.
She was exasperated at the interruption, but softened when she saw the gladiator.
“You need to come with us.” Mathias didn’t ask—it was a demand.
Her eyes widened. “Ava?”
“She needs you.”
Looking panicked, she spoke quickly to the red head who nodded. They kissed quickly on the lips, and Summer flung a small purse over her shoulder. Mathias nudged her out of the door to the club, and we emerged into a dark hallway.
“Who are you?” She questioned suspiciously, just noticing my presence.
“Lachlan Steele.” I offered my hand, and she shook it quickly.
“Another one of Ava’s boy toys?” She asked, with a smirk.
Sebastian burst out in laughter. “Even worse! That’s her Dad!”
Summer’s eyes widened, as she covered her face with her palm, uttering a curse in Spanish that sounded a lot like, “Ay, dios mío…” Complete with Spanish curse words I didn’t understand.
“We better go. Ava must be…where is she?” Summer clamped on to the two nearest boys—Trystan and Mathias.
“Long story,” was all I said.
CHAPTER 36
Groggily, my eyes opened and shut again weakly, eyelashes fluttering against a cotton pillow, with a fresh scent I faintly remembered.
The last coherent thought I had, was being in a misty forest, with a man in armor, claiming to be my father. “Lachlan Steele…” I repeated in my mind over, and over again. I felt something heavy in my hand and craned my eyes open to see a blue gem in my palm, cold and comforting. “Lachlan…” I whispered again. I clutched the gem to my chest. He was real.
“Your father.”
I fought to turn over, towards the sound of the voice, instead inhaling a breath of thick fur. “Sierra?”
Sierra’s cold, wet, large, nose poked me in the face, as her slimy tongue lapped my cheek. “Ew!” I said, bringing a hand to my face, and wiping off her drool. I weakly reached over and patted her furry head as she lay on the pillow next to me.
I felt an arm snake around my midsection. I turned in the opposite direction, and the first thing I saw was Xander’s sexy smirk as he drank my face in with his eyes. “Oh, thank th
e Gods.” He stroked at the hair that fell in my eyes adoringly. “You were beginning to scare me for a bit.”
I raised a brow, groaning, trying to sit up. He urged me back down. “You need rest. Just sleep until the rest of the guys get here.”
“Guys?” I glanced around; I was in an unfamiliar bedroom, but judging by the white bamboo divider, black and white furniture, and the storm cloud mural painted on the opposite wall, I figured I had to be in Xander’s bedroom. “What was wrong with my bedroom?” I asked, with a grin.
He chuckled. “I didn’t want to let you out of my sight.” He leaned over and softly brushed his lips against mine. The brief touch sent sparks down my body, straight between my legs. My breath quickened, and I bit his lip lightly as he tried to pull away. Charged like a lightning rod, I was ready to go. “Please don’t stop.”
Xander groaned, and flung himself on his pillow, slapping his hands against his face. “Ava! You need to rest, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal. I’m not sure how all that power affected you.”
I eyed him, confused, and slighted that he’d deny my advances, when I noticed the large gash across his bare stomach. He was shirtless; his lean, sculpted muscles marred by mounds of bloody gauze that had been taped to him. I leapt upright. “Oh my god—you need to get to a hospital! Now! That might—”
Xander sat up slowly, wincing in pain. “No,” He said, his voice quietly strangled. He placed a finger on my lips gently. “No. I’ll be okay. Normally I would have healed by now, but the weapon was laced with some sort of anti-supe poison. I’ll be fine though; it’ll heal. Remember?” he said, with a wink. “Immortal.”
“But—” I protested helplessly. It was a nasty cut. Okay, gash. Wound. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was bad. I shifted my weight on the bed to be closer to him.