When Garran thought his head would burst from all that he had discussed with his two leaders, he pushed his chair away from the table and got to his feet. “We shall go to the troops now and speak with each commander.”
He faced Carden, who had also risen along with Hark. “I will be clear that you are my Steward while I am gone, and King should I pass on to Summerland.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Carden said, and Hark gave a deep nod.
“We will be going to war soon.” Garran’s gut churned as he thought of Ceithlenn and the Fomorii. “I will take one of the younger warriors with me to give notice when it is time to go aboveground to fight.”
“So long as it is dark in that Otherworld,” Hark said.
Garran nodded in agreement. “The humans, D’Danann, and I have discussed drawing the goddess and the demons out at night. We will come up with a plan and be prepared.”
Garran continued, “The Orb of Aithne will impart the following on you as well, Carden. The combined powers of all of our warriors will allow you to make the transference as one, without the use of the transference stone.”
Carden and Hark looked at him in surprise. “That has never been done,” Hark said.
Garran shrugged. “Such a great transference has never been needed before.”
A commotion could be heard outside the throne room—Hannah’s voice, loud, anger in her tone. “Let me see him now,” she said in an authoritative manner as he cut his gaze to the doorway.
“The King’s orders, my lady,” one of the guards said. They had blocked the entrance. “He is not to be disturbed.”
Garran couldn’t see Hannah, but he could picture the imperious expression on her face. His heart twinged and regret flooded him again. She would have made a fine queen.
“I don’t care what orders he gave you, I want to see Garran right this minute.”
“Allow Hannah to enter the room,” Garran called out to the guards before he nodded to Carden then Hark. “I will call for you when I am ready to visit the troops.”
Again surprised expressions. Obviously they had not expected him to change his plans at the demands of a female. In their world it was not done.
As the guards let Hannah pass, he faced her and almost smiled. Fire lit her eyes even though she kept her expression controlled. The Brooch of Aithne sparkled where he had pinned it to her shirt.
Had he made her his queen, she would no doubt have fought for changes in their world. The thought sent another twinge through his heart. Gods, how he would miss her when he passed on to Summerland.
When she reached him her lips were pressed in a thin line. She glanced at Carden and Hark and waited until they were out of sight, and the guards outside the door, before she spoke.
“You’re not going to do this, Garran.” She poked one of her fingers at his chest, pressing into his skin. “No way are you going to throw your life away.”
He caught her hand in his and brought her close, catching her by surprise so that she stumbled into him. Her lips parted as he brought her into his embrace and he kissed her before she had a chance to utter another word.
Instead of fighting him, she kissed him back with equal passion. Their kiss was deep, filled with desperation.
Hannah took her hands from his and wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching her body up against him.
He ached as she moved against him and she gripped his hair in her fists. The brooch on her shirt scraped his skin and added more magical warmth to their kiss.
Gods, she tasted of sweet, sweet woman and her scent was like the hint of wildflowers and spring rain. She made a needy whimpering sound that he had never heard from her before. He grasped her and pressed her tighter to him and he groaned.
Guards outside the entrance be damned—he had to have her here and now. He moved his hands between them and she gave a soft sound of surprise against his lips as he unfastened her jeans.
She didn’t stop the magic of their kiss, it only intensified as he pushed down her jeans and undergarment. The soft thuds of her shoes met his ears as she kicked them off.
Her jeans and undergarment dropped to her feet and she stepped out of them. He broke their kiss so that he could pull her T-shirt over her head and, he set it carefully aside with the brooch.
She unfastened the lace binding her breasts and let it fall to the floor, leaving her naked save for her socks.
“You are so beautiful,” he said as his gaze took in her naked body. His eyes met her dark ones and he pushed the blond lock from her face so that it joined her dark hair.
“Damn you, Garran,” she said before she kissed him.
He grasped her again and carried her up the dais and set her on her feet only long enough to unfasten his breeches and release himself. He sat hard on his wide throne and brought her with him so that she straddled his lap.
Hannah raised herself on her knees, grasped him in her hand, and eased down on him. She tore her mouth from his and gave a hoarse cry as she began riding him, taking him deep.
Another groan rose up in his throat at the feel of her heated core grasping him. He thrust his hips up every time she came down on him.
A powerful tightening sensation expanded in his groin, an oncoming storm of a climax approaching. He tilted his head up and she met his gaze and brought her mouth to his in another demanding kiss.
He took her by her waist and moved in and out faster. Her body began trembling in his hands and he knew she was close to orgasm.
Hannah broke their kiss again, a wild light in her eyes. She clung to his shoulders, digging her nails in his skin.
When she climaxed she gave a loud cry and shuddered against him. He continued to move inside her, feeling every spasm of her core.
She cried out again with another orgasm. With a few more thrusts he made her whimper and moan before he allowed himself to climax.
The power of his orgasm had him rocking against her, pressing his hips tight in between her thighs. His mind whirled and he felt as if he was on the transference stone and entering another Otherworld as he throbbed inside her.
Hannah collapsed into his embrace, her face resting at the curve of his neck. Smells of sex, sweat, and woman flowed through his senses as he held her tight.
“Don’t do it, Garran,” she whispered. “Don’t do it.”
36
Countless muffled screams caused Jake to raise his head up from studying the weapons schematics on his laptop.
His heart immediately started thundering at the strength and number of the cries.
“Ceithlenn and the Fomorii,” Hawk shouted from the middle of the warehouse. He projected his voice and it echoed against the metal walls. “Through mind-speak the guards stated they see the goddess and the demons attacking the tourist piers.”
Jake snapped the laptop’s lid shut and bolted from his room.
“Now, now, now!” Jake shouted to his officers as his body tensed, going into battle-mode. His wounded arm had been aching, and he’d been tired, but now he was wide awake.
His officers strapped on their armor and other battle gear, grabbed their rifles and handguns, along with shields and demo Tasers. With expressions of grim determination they dashed out of the warehouse.
As if the heavens above were just as furious as Jake, freezing rain and wind whipped up and assaulted them. They rushed into several SWAT vehicles and the armored Humvee tank-like transports.
The witches joined them, climbing into one of the vehicles, each with expressions ranging from fury to determination. Rhiannon and Copper already sparked with magic.
Screams grew louder as the trucks roared the short distance from the warehouse to the piers under attack.
Jake figured the D’Danann had already arrived when he saw demon heads flying through the air. No doubt the warriors were flapping their great wings as they flew above the Fomorii and swooped down to behead one demon after another.
But there were too many Fomorii. Too goddamn many.
As more demons rose from the bay onto the piers, the Fomorii attacked humans, killing them then discarding the bodies. The demon stench of rotten fish, along with smells of blood and magic, slammed into him, the rain doing nothing to lessen the smells.
Jake and his officers bolted out of their vehicles, the witches rushing out with them into the rain. The wind blew so hard the rain slashed sideways and stung his face.
“Positions!” Jake ordered.
Immediately his men and women lined up and began moving forward with riot shields in front of them, working to get close enough to their targets to use the heart-seeking bullets.
“Fire the moment you have a clear shot,” Jake called out to his officers as blood pounded in his veins. “Take these bastards down.”
The witches started using spellfire and magic ropes to bind or incapacitate some of the demons long enough for the D’Danann to behead them or PSF officers to use their bullets and destroy the beasts.
Sounds of guns firing, people’s screams, the sizzle of magic, pounding rain, and the roars and growls of the Fomorii erupted in the night.
If only it had started to rain earlier, not as many people would be out.
An explosion of red fire came from above, snapping Jake’s attention to the sky. Ceithlenn. Hair flaming, eyes glowing red, gliding as she circled the carnage.
The goddess struck. A D’Danann reappeared as he dropped from the air and the warrior shouted before falling into the middle of the swarming Fomorii. Iridescent sparkles rose above the demons—the beasts had killed the warrior.
Ceithlenn fired her magic in the air, probably going for the invisible D’Danann. From the way her fireballs shimmered and deflected, Jake was certain the invisible warriors were blocking the magic with their swords.
Soon Ceithlenn encased herself in a shield that shimmered in the artificial light and her own fire.
White and gray puffs, like streams of fog, rose from the battlefield toward Ceithlenn and she sucked them through the shield and into her body.
Souls.
Jake recognized exactly what she was doing. He’d seen her do it before. The bitch was taking the murdered people’s souls and making herself more powerful.
Jake raised his Glock and started to fire on the goddess but knew he’d only be wasting bullets. They’d just bounce off her magical shield. He’d have to let the D’Danann do their thing and he’d do his.
He jogged up a few steps and onto a stretch of wooden decking so that he was a little higher than the fighting. He ground his teeth and took a battle stance while holding his Glock steady with both hands.
Adrenaline kept his body so electrified that his wounded arm didn’t affect his aim. He systematically began shooting demons on the outside fringes of the battle. In most cases his shot was dead-on, exploding the hearts of several demons. Their bodies collapsed into silt.
One Fomorii barreled toward Jake and he barely avoided the demon’s claws by burying a bullet in the creature’s heart and turning the demon into silt.
More demons charged Jake’s officers, who remained steadfast and fired AK-47 rifles or handguns, depending on their positions. A few of Jake’s officers were taken down by the demons.
Fury made his aim even truer. Heat swept his rain-soaked skin and a pounding knocked at the inside of his head.
Sirens screeched through the night, red and blue lights flashing as emergency and law enforcement vehicles drew closer.
Not now. The emergency personnel and officers would only serve as more food for the demons and provide more souls for Ceithlenn.
Where were the Dark Elves? Jake glanced around. Where was Garran? Hadn’t anyone notified the Drow?
It was dark—the bastards should be here. Were they traitors after all? Were they going back on their word to help in the battle against the goddess and the Fomorii?
Sonsofbitches.
They’d better arrive real quick or this battle wasn’t going to last long. And it looked like it wasn’t the Fomorii or Ceithlenn who were going to be on the losing end—the Alliance was way outnumbered.
Jake moved his attention to a television news station van as it pulled up to a stop at the fringes.
Kat DeLuca climbed out of the van.
Oh, fuck.
37
“Your Majesty!”
At the sound of the urgent male voice, Hannah jerked her head up from where she’d had her face pressed to Garran’s warm chest. Heat flushed over her in a rush. She still straddled his lap, with only her socks on and his length inside her.
Garran snarled as he held her in a tight embrace. “Did the guards not inform you that I do not wish to be disturbed, Carden?”
Heat still filling her body, Hannah refused to look at the other warrior as he spoke. “My apologies, Your Majesty. But the Fomorii and Ceithlenn are attacking the San Francisco Otherworld.”
Both Hannah and Garran went rigid. “Take the men and transport immediately to the battle,” he ordered. “I will use the transference stone.”
“I must beg you one last time—”
“Go!” Garran’s expression grew fiercer. “Now.”
Carden’s tone was anything but agreeable, but still he said, “Yes, my king.”
Hannah eased down Garran’s body. Her heart pounded so hard her chest ached. What in Anu’s name was she going to do? She had to help her Coven sisters do battle, but she also needed to keep Garran from using the power the Great Guardian had given him.
Hannah scrambled to gather her jeans and T-shirt and tugged them on without worrying about her panties and bra.
Garran fastened his leather pants and strode toward the black door while she finished buttoning her jeans.
“Wait here,” he commanded as he made the door open, “where you will remain safe.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Hannah bolted after him, not taking the time to grab her shoes. “You’re not leaving me!”
Before the door closed behind him, she slid across the granite floor on her sock-covered feet, lunged inside the small room, and flung her arms around his waist just as he started the transference.
The suffocating blackness overcame her and she felt as if she had her arms around nothing. As if Garran were no longer there.
In the next moment ice-cold rain drenched her, while powerful winds whipped her wet hair across her cheeks. Screams and roars shrieked through her head as Garran steadied her and set her away from him.
“Fool witch,” he growled.
Hannah jerked her attention from Garran. It took her only a fraction of a second to see they’d arrived on the fringes of the battle, near Aquarium of the Bay.
And it took only a moment to recognize that the D’Danann, witches, and PSF were horribly outnumbered.
She held back a cry and looked back to Garran—
He was gone.
He’s left to kill himself!
She started to push herself through the screaming crowd, looking everywhere for Garran. It was impossible to see through the people shoving by her and almost knocking her down.
Red and blue strobes flashed and reflected over the scene. Fire trucks. Ambulances. Police cars.
When she burst out onto the street, she widened her eyes. Dear Anu! High Priestess Janis Arrowsmith and the rest of her white magic D’Anu Coven were there, too.
The white witches didn’t use gray magic and were virtually defenseless. They had spellshields and could perform a few charms that were not gray magic, but nothing that could help them here.
The high priestess was able to use her magical seeds that she tossed onto the ground. Immediately vines sprouted and bound some of the demons. But it wasn’t nearly enough.
It looked like the rest of the white witches were doing their best to use white magic to heal, but they were open to attack and vulnerable.
Fear and anger made Hannah’s whole body hurt like she’d been ripped apart. Fear and anger for all of her friends, the other people who fought the Fomorii, and the countless people bein
g ripped to shreds by the Fomorii.
And for Garran.
Where is he?
She caught sight of some of her sister witches. Sparks flew from their magic as gunshots rang through the rainy night. Swords clanged against the demons’ iron-coated claws. Cries of people being murdered and growls of Fomorii melded with the other sounds into one huge roar.
The whump-whump-whump sound of helicopter blades added to the noise as a police copter flew over the mayhem.
It streamed its high-powered light over the massive scene and a man using a loudspeaker continually said, “This is the police. Drop your weapons.” The order was nearly lost in the crazed mayhem on the piers.
Shouts of a different kind—like warrior battle cries—came from her right and Hannah snapped her attention toward it. The Drow. A legion of them had arrived.
But where is Garran? She shoved her way through the crowd, searching for him. She had to get to him before he killed himself.
Arrow after arrow silently whisked through the rain, piercing many of the demons’ thick hides. Like Garran had told her, if the arrow struck one of the Fomorii in the chest, exactly where its heart was, the head of the arrow exploded and the demon crumbled to silt.
Still more demons climbed out of the bay and joined the battle. Some attacked the Drow from behind, slashing the warriors with their iron-coated claws, which were deadly to Fae and Elves.
As Hannah dodged Fomorii and used her spellfire, she glanced up.
Ceithlenn.
Dear Anu, the evil goddess hovered above the fray, shielded by her magic as she drew in human souls. White and gray forms slipped through the rain straight to her chest.
Three D’Danann surrounded her in the air, but they couldn’t pierce her shield with their swords.
Rhiannon stood below Ceithlenn, her Shadows rushing from her body—but this time they couldn’t penetrate the goddess’s shield as they had before. Instead the Shadows crawled over the bubble of Ceithlenn’s protection, shadowy man-shapes trying to get past the shield.
The Shadows Page 32