Wicked Paradise (33 page)

Hours later, more refreshed and invigorated than she’d felt in days, Morgan stretched out the cricks in her sore muscles. Ryan stepped away to refill their waterskins. Mouth watering, stomach grumbling, she reached for one of the citrus fruits Ryan had brought with him. She was just about to bite into it when he rounded a thicket.

“No!” he shouted.

Startled, she jumped, her defensive power rising. “What’s wrong?”

Ryan scrubbed his hand over his face, chuckled. “Don’t eat the skin.”

She looked askance at the rainbow fruit. “Why ever not?” Reality dawned and her face flushed. “Oh! Is that what caused my blackout?” She threw the fruit on Ryan’s backpack and wiped her hands on her T-shirt as if the fruit was wormy. “That left me vulnerable so that whoreson was able to capture me.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Ryan enlightened her about the mysterious fruit and coaxed her into eating a few bites of the sweet meat for an energy spike. He split the rest with RavenStar, burying the peels to keep the foal from eating them. The foal’s joy at her return hadn’t abated, and she didn’t want to create a delirious monster.

“Why did you think you could kill the Fomorian on your own?” Ryan slugged down a cup of spring water, white knuckling the coconut shell.

Morgan swallowed a pistachio nut, nearly choking on it as the moment of truth rapped the back of her hands. Like when her father used to tap his training wand on her hands when she took advanced liberties in her sorcery training and had to explain her motives. Rarely failing at the advanced spells, she might add. Now, she wasn’t so sure Ryan would understand her intentions.

She cracked open another nutshell. “With the island’s magic bound to me, I held a potent mix of all four elements necessary to imprison WindWraith like I did in the volcano. Then after a recharge of magic, I’d use spells my father imparted to me that joined with air, fire, water, and earth magic promised to destroy it forever.”

A muscle throbbed in Ryan’s neck. “Then why’d your father say you needed my power if you could decimate WindWraith on your own? Or was that just a ploy to get me here?”

Morgan thrust forward, fingers landing on Ryan’s thigh. “Please don’t think that. Father knew I was unhappy living alone. He only wanted the best for me and he knew we were meant to be together. He envisioned it, and it all came together—”

“Killing two birds with one stone?” Ryan grimaced.

Morgan laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth before sitting back, sobering. She plucked at the grass, a flush rising up her neck.

Ryan groaned, twined his fingers in hers. “Now what?”

Morgan tossed the blades of grass aside. “Father wanted me to use the alternate plan only if something happened to you.” Her voice grew somber. “If I had used the spells to kill WindWraith, they would have drawn all my magic out forever, leaving only my bond to you if you remained alive.”

Ryan looked as if a she’d grown scales and a forked tongue. “Sweetheart, why would you have done that?” He closed the distance and pulled her into his arms. “To save me?”

“Of course to save you,” she cried, slapping his back with the flat of her hand. “Your bloody plan would have killed us all and sent the Fomorian on his merry way to your land. In my body, no less.”

He shook her as if he wanted to shake sense into her. “That wouldn’t have happened.”

Morgan squeaked out a frustrated cry and pushed out of his arms. “Ryan Almighty knows everything. No, thank you. I’d rather take my own chances with my body and my life. Let’s get on with killing it before you have another harebrained idea to turn us into killer toads.”

Ryan rose off the grass, his pack clasped in his hand. “Okay. You’re probably right.”

“Probably?” She snickered, rising to face him.

He held her face and she wallowed in the feel of his hands on her skin, the promises he held in that simple gesture. “I love that you would sacrifice so much for me, for us. I won’t ever take your sacrifices or you for granted. Nor will I ever fail to take your intelligence and knowledge into consideration.” He leaned in, his mouth a hairsbreadth from hers. “You believe me, my little raven?”

Melting against him, she placed her heart and soul, her life in the hands of this man fated for her. “I believe you. And yes, I would have sacrificed my magic for your love.”

The whole of Ryan’s joy spread across his face in his smile, in his lively eyes. It stopped her heart. “I’d do the same for you.” He clasped her hand in his warm grip and held for a long moment. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Not wanting to break contact with him, she hugged his arm as they walked into the volcano’s cavern. Not so much for his protection and support, but because her entire body tingled happily whenever she touched him now.

He’d fashioned a smaller set of leather shoes from one of his satchels to protect her raw feet from the spiky rocks littering the ground inside the cavern.

The air shroud encasing WindWraith pulsed frailly in the far corner. The Fomorian’s power had diminished since it no longer siphoned magic from them and the island. The grayish shadow had shrunk to the size of a large man. A simple wind spell enabled Morgan to guide it out of the volcano without breaking the casing.

WindWraith bounced fiercely above the Druid circle in futile attempts at avoiding death. Using tethers of shimmery air, Morgan anchored the cocoon a few feet over the eight-point circle and looked to Ryan across from her. He nodded once.

They voiced aloud the spells to invoke their individual magic. Ryan pulled from the first stars in the deepening twilight sky. Morgan drew from her elemental magic, and then called forth energy from the island, fusing it with hers. Immense power swamped her, more than she’d ever wielded naturally. Crackling pleasure burst throughout her body. Bluish-white star power emanated off Ryan, illuminating the ground surrounding them.

“Concentrate on the crystal energy,” Morgan instructed. “We say the spell together, sending your power into me, and mine along with the island’s power into you.”

Sweat filmed Ryan’s bare torso. “Are you sure you can take the ether?” Apprehension pulled the lines tight around his mouth.

Morgan blew out an exasperated sigh. “We’ve been over this, Ryan.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Do it.”

In unison, they spoke the words of the transference spell. Once the last word left her lips, Ryan’s power whammed into her, knocking her off balance. She hastily regained steady feet and noticed with amazement the same had happened to Ryan when her power meld crashed into him. His mouth hung ajar.

The three powers gyrated inside her, dangerously close to erupting outward if she didn’t forcibly dampen them. The twisted energy showered the air like dry rain.

WindWraith wrestled within its prison. Morgan cut the air tethers and the bubble dropped into the Druid circle. WindWraith’s shrieks ripped into the night, sending RavenStar into a noisy, scampering bolt toward the jungle. Birds took flight, screeching and cackling, unable to drown out the earsplitting sounds of rage and terror.

“Now,” she shouted over the din.

They spread their arms to the stars, calling down the sky’s magic. Together, they blitzed a destructive bomb of ether, fire, air, and earth magic on WindWraith, decimating every cell of evil.

Euphoria roared through Morgan seconds before her knees turned to slippery seaweed, and her world whirled away.

* * *

“It’s done.” Lauren brushed past the gloating Overlord. She strode to the immaculate kitchen at the rear of the gothic mansion and slid the offensive box on the granite counter. Wiping her hands on the silk pants she’d discovered in an attic trunk in the former ritzy O.C. neighborhood, her muscles grew taut with apprehension.

Alexander approached from behind. His arms encircled her waist, tugging her roughly against his solid body. He mistook her tremor of revulsion for lust and rubbed his growing erection against her ass. She knew it wasn’t her body that turned him on, but the killing act, the blood and gore, the thought of Michael’s death. The power over the Druids he would attain—the only humans left on Earth, he and his soul-sucking minions were able to kill only in traditional physical ways. Bitterness rose in her throat. She plastered on a smile and turned in his arms.

“Don’t you want to see what’s inside the treasure box?” she asked in a lilting, sweet voice.

“I’m dying to.” Alexander planted a sloppy kiss on her mouth then shoved her out of his arms. “I smell Michael’s blood.” He licked his lips, his eagerness now a palpable fire inside him, glowing through his eyes as if the fire burned behind them.

Lauren wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, avoiding a smear of blood staining her ring finger. She slipped her purse off her shoulders and dug out Michael’s ring. The ring signified loyalty and leadership to the Druid who possessed powerful magic to wear it. It hadn’t circled the finger of anyone but an O’Rourke for centuries. Lauren studied her own family ring, the cushion set moonstone that denoted the dominance of the Blackwell women for less than a century. Her grandmother had killed off the last Westerfield rival who’d ruled their coven, after they originally stole the power from the Blackwell family.

“It’s yours now.” She tossed the O’Rourke ring on the black granite. It clinked and skidded against an empty wrought iron napkin holder. “The last O’Rourke is dead.”

“You really did it.” Rare awe laced Alexander’s rich, bass voice. “I had my doubts.”

“Why? I thought we trusted one another.” Lauren rubbed her arms, chasing gooseflesh. “From one Druid to another.” Little did the asshole know she’d pegged him as a Fomorian from day one. The covens had conducted their research before the Wars, and she’d known for two years that he was the Alasoron Overlord. As much as he tried to hide his true form, it was unmistakable when he forced her to give him hand jobs and his eyes went all fiery red. Was he a stupid-ass Fomorian or what? Only the potions her master alchemist made her drink everyday kept her mind and her true feelings hidden. But she had prepared for him to reveal his true nature tonight. After all, he wouldn’t be able to put the ring on if he was a Fomorian.

Alexander opened the box and clucked his tongue. Lauren moved to the other side of the counter to witness his smarmy face as he died and released the poor marked humans from demon hell to a miserable post-apocalyptic life. At least those humans would have their will back, if nothing else.

Without touching the box, Alexander leaned down and sniffed the heart, drawing in the bite of Michael’s blood. Ebony darkness suffused the whites of his eyes, and his mouth distorted in a cruelly gleeful grin. His face turned ruddy, and she swore he’d spew in his shorts if he took another whiff of the blood.

Lauren’s heart sank to the dregs of her stomach. Sweat dripped between her breasts. While he fawned over the heart, she slipped her hand inside her purse and grasped one of the bespelled vials of demon poison. Years of work and testing had gone into preparing the vanquishing potion. Despite the devastation of Earth’s plant life, her people had scoured North America for the ingredients obtainable at most of the former herb stores. But it was the combined power of herself and Michael that stirred the brew into the mega potency of its current solution.

“Druid to Druid, you say.” Alexander’s voice grew throaty. “I do have a little Druid blood in me. Enough to wear the ring, I’m sure.” He seemed to grow larger. Was that an illusion, or her mind playing tricks?

“What...what do you mean, darling?” Lauren managed a fake smile. Hands trembling, she uncorked the vial inside her purse.

“Your silly potion won’t work on me,
darling
.” Alexander’s face reddened dangerously. Steam wafted from his collar. “Did you think I didn’t smell it?” His straining erection pierced his trousers. His penis had morphed hideously, barbed, humongous. It took all Lauren had not to flee and throw up her guts in the dead flowerbeds in the backyard.

She sensed Michael’s hidden presence outside the French doors behind her. He sent a wave of shielded ether to bolster her vast power. Alexander counterattacked with a tainted barrier to thrust the magic away.

With inhuman speed, the Overlord stood beside her. Lauren screamed, a half-animal, half-human sound. She jumped back, invoking a protection shield. Alexander walked through her barrier, splintering it asunder. An arrogant sneer inched across his crimson face. His power engulfed hers and swallowed the entire house, locking Michael away.

“Did you really think you’d triumph with your paltry attempts to fool me?” Long, ragged claws pinched Lauren’s shoulders, tearing her blouse into tatters.

Blood rushed from her face, and she struggled to raise her shackled magic.

“Did you think I fell for your subterfuge?” Alexander pressed closer, his body growing larger, burning hot, slapping its evil around her, suffocating her. “Did you think I didn’t feel his
shielded
presence outside, even though
his
heart lay in a box?” He clicked his tongue, shook his head. “Wonderful work. You’ll have to enlighten me on the magic you used to pull it off. And you will, my love, you will. Once I bond you to me, you’ll spill all your little secrets.”

“Alexander,” Lauren gasped out. “You have it all wrong. I want you. I want to meld my power with yours, rule with you. To grow the ranks of the Alasoron with my people just like we planned.” She writhed beneath his powerful hands, straining to hold onto her sanity, reaching for the ties to Michael she no longer felt. “The Druids need
you
to unite them, not that second-rate O’Rourke. I have so much to offer. You know that. Only my people can give you the magic and genes you need to create your new race.”

Alexander’s head tipped back. His abrasive laughter boomed out, echoing up to the vaulted ceiling, a rumbling thunder along Lauren’s eardrums. The Alasoron incubation farm was faltering, the Fomorians unable to procreate among their rank. Not even marked humans and Fomorian minions bore fruit. After capturing one of Lauren’s young female guards just before the outbreak of the Horde Wars, the Alasorons discovered the woman was a perfect breeder. After she’d birthed triplets with Alexander’s seed, the Alasorons captured a Druid male guard. Using his sperm, they impregnated several of their female freaks, all birthing babies at full term. All the offspring appeared human on the outside, beautiful innocent babies, but they carried the super DNA of a Fomorian and Druid mix. A master race of unfathomable evil. A master race the Fomorians tried to create centuries ago.