Absolution (8 page)

I’ve got a gun.

Without that demon killer ammo, you’ll just annoy him. We need to take his head. Damn, I knew I should’ve done a more thorough job.

Take his head? We don’t need an axe. We need a chainsaw.

So find one. I’d like to live through this
.

“Yeah, right. Find a chainsaw, my ass.” Luc grabbed Allana’s hand and jerked her with him. He hated leaving Rice to dance with the monster, but he had to save her. He released her and shoved her from him. “Teleport somewhere, anywhere, just get the Abyss out of here.” He waited long enough to see her vanish and bolted for the woodpile.

For Goddess sake, get back here before you’re fighting a Fomorii looking like me
.

He yanked the axe free of the chopping block and charged toward the melee.

For a moment, he stopped short. Rice stood, legs bent. Where his blade met Fomorii flesh, it opened oozing wounds on its arms and bulging stomach that didn’t heal, but did little else. At this rate, the creature would walk into Cave of the Fallen as one of them and no one would be the wiser, assuming he got through the Goddess’ shields. Given the way his life was going, the thing would be welcomed home like the conquering hero.

“Nice of you to join me.”

He swung the axe at the Fomorii. “Shut the fuck up, Rice.” Each swing barely nicked the creature. An acrid odor filled the air. Black, inky fluid dripped onto the snow and instantly melted it. A second later, there wasn’t a mark on him. Shit, he needed a demon-forged blade and some demon killer bullets. Even then, he doubted it would be enough.

Keep him busy, Rice.

What in the Abyss do you think I’m doing?

Just keep him off me. I need to get behind him
. At Rice’s jerky nod, he faded into the trees and worked his way around them. As he entered the clearing, one of the stalk-eyes swiveled toward him, tracking his movements, while the other stayed on Rice.

“You didn’t think I’d fall for that. Really, Luc, even Earl wasn’t that stupid. And my name isn’t Earl.”

Luc raise both arms over his head, his left hand at the base of the three-foot handle and the other near the blade. As he brought the axe forward, his right hand slid down the shaft to meet his left.

The Fomorii whirled and parried the shaft with one swipe of his gorilla arm, nearly sweeping the weapon from Luc’s hands.

Pain ripped through his shoulder. He arm hung useless. “Be right back.” He raced to the nearest tree and rammed his shoulder back into place. A lightning bolt of agony shot from shoulder to his balls, and stars danced before his eyes. It took all his power to stay upright.

“Luc? Is this what you needed?”

“I thought I told you to get—” His gaze narrowed on Allana’s hands. She struggled to lug the most beautiful chainsaw he’d ever seen. It had to have a twenty-inch bar. “Where in the hell did you get that?”

“There’s a logging camp in the next village. This was the biggest one I could lift. It’s gassed and ready. I borrowed it,” she said in a whisper.

He grabbed the saw with one hand and thrust the axe at her with the other. “If we fail, go to hIfreann and have them get you to Cave of the Fallen.”

He jerked the cord. The saw jumped in his hands and roared to life. Shit, he didn’t know if he could control the sucker. It was heavy and bucked in his hands. He advanced on the Fomorii.

On stalk eye followed the whirring blade. The creature started to rotate toward him.

Rice lunged, his blade sinking deep into the Fomorii’s chest.

With a bellow that drowned out the chainsaw’s motor, he flung out his arm, sending Rice careening into a tree. Then he reached for the knife hilt to yank it from his chest.

In that moment of distraction, Luc slid to his knees, and dragged the chain across the Fomorii’s Achilles tendons. The monster pitched forward. The knife slammed deeper into his chest.

Realizing he had seconds to finish the job before the tendons healed, Luc raced to the back of the Fomorii’s head and lowered the saw blade. It bit deep, severing spine and tentacles.

The Fomorii’s body shuddered. The head rolled free. Acidic, black blood sprayed the area, burning everything it touched, snow, trees, and him.

Blood and husk dissolved into ash and disappeared in the swirling snow.

As the motor quieted, Allana joined him. “You’re hurt.”

“I can wait. See to Rice first.”

***

Before they breached the wood’s edge, Rice shook free of their assistance. “Thanks. I’m all right. I’m healed.”

Allana reached for him. “It’s too soon.”

“I said I’m fine. I’m heading for Cave of the Fallen to introduce myself to the Cáidh Arm. We’ll meet at Eagle Eyrie and compare notes. If Farley thinks I’m alive, we’ll go into camp together. Otherwise, I’ll stay out of sight with Fritz, and you can reach me by telepathy.”

Luc handed Rice his knife. “Thought you’d want this back.”

He shoved it into its sheath under his coat. “Good thing about Fomorii, you don’t have to
Glanavana
your blade.”

He touched Rice’s temple and initiated the telepathic access he had squelched over the last few months, creating a private channel.
Can Farley teleport or create portals?

Not that I’m aware of. That isn’t one of the Gulgari power
, Rice responded, cementing their personal channel.
The situation is dicier than we thought. If Allana could scent I’m a daemon through my glamour and dampener, then probably so can Farley. Let her think I’ll join you, but—

You won’t. You’re right, stay out of sight. I’ll contact you before I go after him.

Don’t forget, he’s mine
. Rice pulled back from him. “Be careful. Earl was right about one thing; the child’s mother will tell whoever passes for the law hereabouts what happened to them. Expect a visit from a lynch mob when this storm lets up.” He stepped away and turned to face them. “And you, Allana, trust only Luc, me, or the gargoyle Fritz until you join the Cáidh Arm and your Fae family.”

Luc shifted uneasily. She had been quiet, too quiet while Rice and he had talked. When a woman like Allana remained silent in the face of an order, he worried. “You going to tell Deva we found one of the lost princesses?” he asked Rice, but watched her for a reaction. If he’d blinked, he would have missed the slight shiver he suspected had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with Rice’s words about her family. Seemed she did not want to be found. Strange, considering the Light’s resources.

“Hell, yes. I’ll also warn her and her mate to stay the hell away from Farley. He would like nothing more than to get hold of
that
power.” He faced Allana. “I appreciate all you’ve done—the information on my family, too. I’m sorry you’re our target and bait to flush out Farley.”

With a wince, Luc turned from Rice to Allana. A frisson of worry spread through him. Once again, she seemed to have no reaction. Not a wrinkle marred her face. She tilted her head and looked at both of them, yet didn’t seem to see them. It was as if she were receiving inner guidance, and he suspected he wouldn’t like the outcome.

Her spine straightened and shoulders went back. “With me in tow, you have a shot sending Farley’s blackened soul to Gohorah for eternity. No more women will lose their husbands to him. No more children will suffer abuse for his aims. No more families destroyed.”

“You do realize I wasn’t—aren’t going to actually give you to him?” A sudden cold chill in Luc’s stomach twisted in a knot at her silence. The blasted woman planned to march into Farley’s camp. Like hell! “Rice and I can handle this. You have children of your own to find and protect. I release from your oath. Go find them.”

“No. If we don’t defeat Farley, they may be his next target.” Her eyes locked with his. “Do you really think he will stop or be satisfied with whatever magicks he happens to find? He won’t. He needs power, craves it the way drug addicts do their next fix. From what I learned while in hIfreann, the reversal of his aging will become shorter each time he drains a life. Soon he’ll need daily hits to just maintain.”

Her face showed nothing, but he felt waves of her tightly leashed anger. “This may be a one way mission, honey. Your daughters need your guidance and love.”

A small twitch at the corner of her mouth accompanied the rise of one eyebrow. “Such odd words. You actually seem worried.”

“No shit, Druid.” Rice growled before he vanished within a blink of an eye.

Luc grimaced and pulled his jacket tighter. “Damn him to the Abyss!”

“Where did he—”

At Allana’s shocked expression, he sighed. “He said he wants to meet the new Cáidh Arm. I bet he’ll try to get approval from a higher power to take out Farley on his own.”

“Will he get it?”

“Not a chance. By the way, how much do you know about Otherworld?”

“Nothing, I was exchanged for another and taken from there within hours of my birth.”

Cripes. Talk about a convoluted mess of people all related to each other. If he survived the Farley debacle, he would have to perform the introductions. Better start now with who’s who. “The Cáidh Arm is married to the heir to the throne of Otherworld, Padraig O’Neill. Your brother.”

She seemed to ponder his comment without a flicker of overt emotion. He understood her hesitation. To be thrown into a family—a royal one at that—would be overwhelming, maybe even intimidating. It was natural to worry whether she mattered, or in fact, was even wanted. After being alone for so many years, she’d wonder how she or the family would consider or accept a sibling who suddenly appeared out of the ether.

All valid possibilities, though he didn’t think they were the real reason for her silence. Given her focus on her daughters, it probably hadn’t occurred to her to reach out to other family members, people she didn’t know or trust yet. After all, her foster father, along with Raziel, had kept all knowledge of her past from her.

“You said my brother’s wife is Deva?”

He heard the quiver in her voice. With a nod, he draped his arm over her shoulder and tugged her beneath the shelter of his jacket. “If we don’t get out of this storm, we won’t have to worry about the sheriff or Farley. We’ll freeze to death.”

His tucked her against him as they plowed through the snowdrifts. “How much do you know of Earth?”

“Earth? Over the past hundred years, I’ve visited often in times of great need, healing where I could.”

“Really, do tell.” Her response was superficial and sparse, an effort to answer without answering. At least it distracted them from their dire predicament. In less than thirty minutes, a foot of snow had fallen. Visibility was near zero. White flakes whirled about them in a swirling gale, unforgiving if they didn’t heed warning signs.

Darkness below, given the cabin was off the beaten track and tucked up in one of the hollows of the Appalachians, with this crazy weather and high elevation, they might not get out of here before early Spring—several long months from now. Not even his earthborn powers could melt a path to escape in the SUV. She could teleport them out, but they needed the car. Short of Fritz creating a portal for them to drive through to the Interstate, they were stuck.

Something told him it would come down to Fritz’s help. Farley wouldn’t sit around waiting. One of his daemons, assuming they were still alive, would teleport him here.

He cast a sidelong glance at her. Her face was taut, her mouth drawn tight against the storm’s fury, yet, a glow around her beckoned him, warming areas of his heart he didn’t know existed.

Spending time, even a week, alone with Allana in an isolated, snowbound cabin might not be so terrible.

Assuming Farley didn’t locate them before they were ready to take him on.

CHAPTER 8

Luc threw another log on the fire and silently thanked the cabin’s owner for his foresight in stocking the half cord of wood stacked on the porch. He glanced over at Allana, who stared out the window. The watercolor of her hadn’t done her justice.

He frowned. Two hours and neither of them had spoken more than a couple words. First, they’d found the dead husband and moved him into the shed, then they had gotten into the argument about her entering Farley’s camp with him.

His cause hadn’t been helped when he said her life was more important than her help, as was finding her daughters and getting the three of them to safety. In hindsight, even he realized his approach had been stupid. If those glowers she shot him were an indication, her attitude toward him hadn’t thawed.

He moved to the stove. Thank the Goddess, Crocker’s sister had a well-stocked larder and a freezer full of meals. “Dinner’s ready.”

Ignoring her sigh, he ladled beef stew into two bowls and carried them to the rough-hewn table. He pulled out a chair and stood behind it, waiting. “You plan to starve? In this weather, I’d have to wait until late spring to bury you.” He suppressed a grin at her scowl. “Come on. You can eat while you try to figure a way to circumvent my desire to protect you.”