Shadow Magic (17 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

BOOK: Shadow Magic
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CEITHLENN APPRAISED HER NEW living arrangement. She had saved her strength by having the Fomorii do the work in securing the opulent location—the way a ruler should.
The wooden blinds of the new luxury apartment were slightly open, allowing strips of moonlight to line the burgundy carpeting at an angle. The Fomorii she had brought with her had just finished overtaking the bodies of the man and woman who had lived in this apartment before Ceithlenn made it her home.
Smells of food still simmering in the kitchen made her stomach churn. The demons would be happy to eat whatever the humans had been cooking, but Ceithlenn had no stomach for it.
She wanted flesh. Human flesh.
And their souls, she needed their souls.
Her muscles actually ached from the weakness that continued to master her body as she waited for a group of Fomorii to return with food for herself and for the demons. They could all stand to fill up on what they preferred to eat.
Ceithlenn shook her short punk-red hair back. She was in her human form, the warlock formerly known as Sara, which she found much easier to maintain while she struggled with her powers. In the cavern, where over half of her Fomorii legion remained, she always appeared as her true goddess self.
To see her as such struck fear in the hearts of the demons and other beasts and helped her control them.
The smells coming from the kitchen—Polish sausage along with boiled potatoes and cabbage, her Sara-self told her—now gave her the urge to vomit. If she wasn't waiting for the five Fomorii to return to her with her true dinner, she would leave this foul-smelling place until it was cleaned up and aired out.
A smile of satisfaction curved her lips. Almost half her legion of Fomorii had infiltrated San Francisco. The demons had taken over the bodies of highly placed military and law enforcement officials, as well as those of senators, congressmen, wealthy businessmen and women. Anyone in anyplace where she could get a foothold to be prepared for her next attack.
Soon, because of her newfound control, martial law would be lifted so that humans would again roam the streets at all times. Events would be held such as rallies and parades. Those with great wealth would ensure the events carried on, and the military and law enforcement branches would not stop them.
She sensed the return of the Fomorii and that alone gave her strength—to know she would dine and regain at least some power.
The time when she and Balor would again rule over the Old World, including Ireland, would soon come. With no interferences from any of the gods and goddesses who had left for Otherworld when she and Balor were banished to Underworld.
Ceithlenn scowled as she summoned some of the last vestiges of her strength to jerk open the door with her magic, allowing the Fomorii to stumble in with their prey. As usual, she had chosen nighttime for their feeding. But instead of having her demons travel a distance away, so as not to raise suspicion, this time she didn't care. The food they pushed in through the door were humans obtained from other apartments in the building.
The Fomorii remained in their demon forms as they pulled, shoved, or carried the humans into the apartment. The five Fomorii each carried two of the pathetic creatures so that there were ten in all. The demons dumped the humans in the middle of the burgundy carpeting. The Fomorii had used human methods to restrain the creatures to bring Ceithlenn fresh food, binding their bodies and muzzling their mouths with duct tape.
Ceithlenn salivated at the sight of the bound and gagged people and she sucked in a deep breath of the sweet smell of their succulent flesh combined with the even sweeter scent of their fear.
“Ah … this one.” Ceithlenn knelt before the largest of the humans. His fat spilled over the waistband of his gray sweatpants.
She summoned some of the strength she had left to transform into her goddess form and watched as the humans' eyes widened in even more terror. Within mere seconds, her hair turned to flame, large leathery wings sprouted from her back, her hands extended into claws, and her teeth lengthened into sharp fangs.
“This one, and”—she smiled as she pointed to a businessman in a two-piece suit—“that one are mine. You may share the rest.”
Before Ceithlenn even had the opportunity to feed, the demons had already started. Smells of blood and flesh served as an aphrodisiac that caused her belly to rumble.
And then she was rocked to her very core.
Souls rushed at her. Souls of the humans the Fomorii were killing. Strands and puffs of white and gray entered her body—
souls
.
Always before, she'd had to
take
souls by murdering the humans herself. This time, her demons making the kills released the souls and Ceithlenn could draw them in faster and easier than ever before.
As the sound of muffled screams, growling, smacking, and of flesh being torn from bone met her ears, Ceithlenn
closed her eyes and sucked in the humans' essences. Power flooded her, filled her, so great that all weakness and exhaustion vanished.
Pure euphoria lifted her and her formerly clouded mind cleared.
She scraped her claws along the fat man's throat.
A vision slammed into her and she almost collapsed.
Her cavern. The one she had created below Alcatraz Island.
Empty.
No Fomorii. No Basilisks. No Handai. None of the three-headed dogs of Underworld.
Only vast emptiness.
A shudder of fury shook her body.
She shrieked and barely recognized that the room had gone silent at the sound of her scream.
Ceithlenn wrapped her wings around her body and transferred to the cavern.
She arrived on the shelf she always used to preside over her legions.
The cavern was empty.
Just as she had envisioned.
Another shriek tore from her throat and she shoved herself from her perch, taking flight. The fury roiling up inside her caused her to feel as if her entire body burned with flame like her hair. Her vision grew even redder than usual when in her goddess form and her claws had extended until they hurt.
She soared around the empty cavern, somehow knowing her legions had been sent back to Underworld. But how could such a great feat have been accomplished?
The stench of the Fomorii had faded and she smelled only the bay outside the cavern—
And something more.
Something that gave her pause.
Human.
Elvin.
Both had been in her cavern. How many?
Ceithlenn gave another cry and made a round of the cavern again.
Something caught her eye. Metal.
She flew to the rock shelf where a long dagger had been discarded. When she landed, she picked up the weapon by the hilt and almost dropped it. Elvin made. But not of the Light Elves. She would not have been able to hold it if it had been one of theirs.
No, this blade could only have been fashioned by the Dark Elves.
Traitors!
The Drow had turned on Balor, the Fomorii, and Ceithlenn when the door to Underworld had been opened.
She raised the blade to her nose and caught a strong scent. Definitely Drow.
With her eyes closed, she gripped the hilt of the blade and searched for the memory of the weapon.
The darkness behind her eyelids exploded into images.
Garran. King Garran of the Dark Elves had wielded this very blade.
Her fury grew hotter with every image her vision revealed, of what had taken place in this cavern. Garran fighting the Fomorii. Fending them off alone. Garran scrambling over the rocks. Reaching this very spot. Standing. Delving inside himself for magic.
A great burst of power encompassing the entire cavern. So powerful that even the image almost knocked Ceithlenn against the wall.
Silver brightness faded.
The cavern empty.
Garran collapsing.
Darkness.
Ceithlenn's hand shook so hard with fury that she almost dropped the blade, but she maintained her grip and felt Garran stir. He heard a female voice.
Opened his eyes.
And saw one of the D'Anu witches.
It was one of the witches Ceithlenn had battled in the stadium.
The witch's name came from Garran's mind.
Hannah
. A D'Anu witch who communed with the Dragon Elementals, their power strong within her.
Dragons
…
And this witch meant something to King Garran.
Deep inside, his soul recognized her as his mate.
Ceithlenn's eyes snapped open and she narrowed them.
She knew exactly what she was going to do to the fucking King of the Dark Elves.
ICE-COLD WIND TUGGED AT Jake's hair and felt bracing against his skin as the PSF's streamlined watercraft headed toward Alcatraz Island in the fog-shrouded night. Thousands of lights glittered from Marin County ahead, and from the shores of San Francisco, which they had left behind them.
Rhiannon stood beside Jake, her hands tucked into the pockets of her bomber jacket. As soon as a couple of the D'Danann got Hannah and Garran settled in the back rooms of the warehouse, Jake and his team had left to check out Garran's story.
Jake furrowed his brow as he gripped the boat's cold handrail while they neared the island. What would they find? The night smelled of brine—but none of that strong rotten fish stench of the Fomorii was present.
Or the stench of evil magic that he caught whenever Ceithlenn was near—not at all the same as the Fomorii stench. The goddess's power was as evil-smelling as the magic that had slaughtered his men in a small Middle Eastern village when Jake had been Special Ops in the Marines. The foul odor always made him want to puke.
Yeah, magic definitely had a smell all to its own, depending on what kind of magic. The D'Danann and D'Anu had a different magical scent, a kind of signature. It was fresh—almost like the wind after a good rain.
The magic of the Dark Elves was more puzzling. Since
they weren't necessarily evil, they didn't smell like Ceithlenn. But they didn't smell like the “good magic” beings, either. More mossy and earthy with a hint of an unidentifiable spice.
Jake glanced over his shoulder at those who accompanied him on the mission tonight. His elite team included five of his officers as well as Rhiannon of the D'Anu; along with Hawk, Tiernan, Eavan, and Keir of the D'Danann.
“I don't understand why you feel the need to do this.” Rhiannon's words were almost whipped away by the wind as he turned his head to meet her eyes that were dark in the night.
“I have to see for myself that Garran's story isn't a lie.” Jake glanced to Alcatraz Island then back to Rhiannon. “At least we can verify that the Fomorii that were in the cavern are gone—if that part of his story is true.”
However, if the demons
were
there, Jake and his team would get the hell out in a hurry.
Irritation darkened Rhiannon's eyes. “Hannah backed up what Garran said, and my vision told me the same thing.”
“For all we know, Garran could have put some kind of dark spell on Hannah and maybe influenced your vision,” Jake said. “I wouldn't put it past him.” At Rhiannon's frown, Jake added, “No offense, Rhi. I know he's your father …”
“But I haven't known him long and he is the king of the Dark Elves.” Rhiannon looked thoughtful, as if puzzling out something in her mind. “It sure doesn't make sense how hundreds or thousands of man-eating demons could vanish—or how Garran was involved.”
“Since you inherited some kind of dark power from him, maybe you can use that connection to sense what really went down at Alcatraz.” Jake moved his hands from the cold railing to his pockets. “If the demons
are
gone did Garran use his own dark magic to send the Fomorii somewhere? And if he did, exactly where did he send them?”
Rhiannon stared at the island as it grew larger the closer they got to it. The expression on her face said that she was miles away in her mind.
Without looking at him, she said, “You're right. It doesn't matter that Garran is my father. Do we really know if he's on the up and up?” He barely heard her low voice. “Or could he still be an enemy on Ceithlenn's side? Could he be planning to have his Drow warriors attack us the first chance they get?”
“I don't know,” was all Jake could say in response. “All I do know is that we need to cover our asses every step of the way.”
Rhiannon gave a slow nod before her eyes met his again. “It's hard for any of us to trust him. But I've had a chance to talk with him some, get to know him a little better since I found out he's my father. Maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Jake's muscles flexed as he tensed. “I don't want to take any chances and let our guard down.”
She stared ahead at the island as they closed in on it. “I understand.”
He looked over his shoulder at his officers. The team wore sleek scuba gear designed to keep them warm once they entered the icy water. The boat sliced its way through the swells to the area Rhiannon told them to go. She had visioned they couldn't be seen in that location and it would lead them directly to the mouth of the cavern. Every one of Jake's officers carried a flashlight, a dagger, and a water-resistant handgun at his or her side, the guns loaded with the special heart-seeking bullets. If they needed the weapons, he hoped to God it would be enough.
For a moment Jake's thoughts turned to Kat. He hadn't spoken with her since she'd come to his office. His body heated at the memory of being inside her, yet at the same time concern clenched his heart hard enough it hurt.
What he felt for Kat … hell, he had no idea. The sex was great and he admired her wit and intellect. They'd enjoyed each other's company for the first six months or so of their relationship—until all hell had broken loose with the warlocks and the Fomorii. Months ago.
What he did know, was that he cared about Kat and her safety. He prayed like hell the demons wouldn't get a hold of her. She was a high-profile news personality, and there was no telling what Ceithlenn had in mind. The goddess had already infiltrated the government. What about the news?
Yeah, he cared about Kat. But she had never filled the soul-deep emptiness he had carried with him as long as he could remember. With drug addicts for parents and an uncle who kept his mother and father supplied with cocaine, heroin, and alcohol, Jake had never felt like he belonged anywhere or with anyone.
Except for his job. Being a Marine and now working with the Paranormal Special Forces was what kept him going.
The air around Jake seemed to grow colder and he rolled his tense shoulders within his snug jacket. Right now it wasn't doing a damn bit of good to think about Kat or his shitty childhood. He needed to focus on the job.
When he looked toward the railing, Rhiannon faced away from him again, huddled at the bow in her bomber jacket. Her chin-length hair whipped around her face and he saw her shivering from the cold. She had been certain she'd visioned the exact location of the mouth of the cavern. Even though no one had wanted to put Rhiannon in danger, they needed her. The kickass witch refused to be left behind, anyway.
“There.” Rhiannon pointed to a sharp ripple of the sheer rock to the left side of the island. “Make your way to the other side, and you'll find it.”
When they were close enough to drift near the location Jake ordered the lieutenant to cut the engines. In just a matter of moments, he and five team members dove silently into the bay. The three D'Danann flew overhead, landing where Rhiannon instructed them to.
Jake was first to reach the almost hidden lip of the cavern. He rose out of the water, pushed up his face mask, and listened for the slightest sound of the Fomorii.
Nothing. Only a very faint, lingering demon-stench and a
steady
plop
,
plop
of dripping water from somewhere in the cavern.
Without making a splash or a sound, Jake eased his way onto the cavern's lip and drew his water-safe gun. Once he was on his feet, he peered around an outcropping of rocks, into the cavern.
Even though Rhiannon had visioned that Garran was telling the truth, Jake hadn't been able find it in himself to believe the Drow king without hard proof. He had to check matters out for himself. Call it cop-think, or covering his ass, or looking out for “his people,” police and otherwise.
It looked like Garran had been clean.
At least about the Fomorii no longer being in the cavern.
Jake motioned for the others to follow him and signaled to the hovering D'Danann with a wave. Because he was human, he couldn't see the flying warriors when they were in winged form, but he knew they were there. It still jolted Jake every time one of the warriors suddenly appeared next to him.
He led the way into the silent cavern. He pointed to a few piles of silt—dead Fomorii remnants—around the entrance of the cave. But that was it, only a few areas had the silt as if the demons had dropped while battling Garran, as he'd said.
As Jake's team slipped deeper into the cavern, sweeping it with their flashlights, Jake saw there was nothing left. Other than dried feces in one corner, carcasses of what had to be whales and sharks, not another sign of the Fomorii or any other beasts remained.
Hawk came up beside him, followed by Rhiannon. Jake wiped water from his face. “Looks like the sonofabitch was telling the truth.”
The D'Danann warrior scanned the cavern. “It appears so.”
“Do you really trust Garran?” Jake asked as he studied Hawk.
The warrior paused before he gave a slow nod. “Garran made a great sacrifice to save Silver's sister from the Fomorii and Darkwolf.”
Jake shook his head. “I'm not sure I feel the same way.”
“Things in Otherworld are never as straightforward as in this place, your Otherworld.” Hawk propped one booted foot on a rock as he spoke. “I think you would do well to expand your thinking, to sharpen your instincts about all manner of potential allies.
“Even those with darkness in them,” Hawk continued as he gave Rhiannon a pointed glance, “can win through to the light, in the right circumstances.”
With a frown, Jake nodded. “Maybe you're right. But for now, let's get the hell out of here.” He motioned to his team. “If Ceithlenn shows up or any of the demons, I don't want to be caught with my pants down.”
Hawk gave him a curious look then glanced down at Jake's scuba bottoms, but Hawk didn't answer before he started walking toward the entrance.
Jake swept the cavern one more time with his flashlight then followed Hawk and his team out into the bay and the breaking dawn.

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