After he had thoroughly kissed her, Sydney sighed as she looked up at him. His green eyes were dark again.
“We will finish this,” he repeated before taking her hand, opening the door that had been left ajar, and leading her out.
She raised her chin and walked through the doorway, all the while wanting to turn and run back into the pantry.
Heat prickled her skin. Her face burned so hot she had no doubt her cheeks were stained red as she faced the six people who had just witnessed the now most embarrassing moment of her life.
Mackenzie grinned. “Well, we don’t have to ask if you’re all right,” the petite blonde said.
Ian, the D’Danann warrior standing beside the entrance to the kitchen snorted. Alyssa cleared her throat and looked like she was trying to keep a straight face. Cael, the warrior at the back exit of the kitchen, grinned and winked at Sydney.
Hawk laughed, and Silver elbowed her husband before approaching Sydney. Silver had long, beautiful, silvery-blonde hair, and her gray eyes were filled with concern.
“You’re okay, aren’t you?” Silver took Sydney’s hands in hers and frowned as she turned them so they were palms up. She examined Sydney’s fingers before looking at her. “What in the world did you do to your hands?”
Sydney tried to look casual and shrugged. “It’s a long story.”
“Hold still,” Silver said as she released Sydney’s fingers.
Sydney complied, and Silver raised one of her hands.
Blue light radiated from her palm as sparkles of magic began healing the cuts and scrapes. The pain in Sydney’s fingers faded. The aches weren’t entirely gone and the scrapes would need a little more magical attention when the bunch of them returned to their current headquarters. But for now it was a huge relief.
“Much better.” Sydney tried to make her expression bright and pretend nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “So, how did you find us so fast?”
“That’s the weird thing.” Silver looked like something disturbed her, and she darted a glance at Hawk, who narrowed his eyes. “Hawk and I were searching our section of the city for Darkwolf when the warlock’s voice came into my mind. He said he wanted to make sure you and Conlan were found.”
A near growl came from Hawk, and Silver took his hand. She continued, “There’s always been some kind of mental communication between Darkwolf and me that I can’t seem to break. But this time he was doing something to help us. I don’t get it.”
“A trap.” Conlan’s gaze searched the kitchen. “The bastard probably planned to have us ambushed here.”
Hawk gave a nod to Ian and Cael, the warriors guarding the entrance and the back exit. “We thought as much. It is unfortunate that we do not have more warriors in San Francisco at this time to call upon.”
“Or witches,” Sydney added.
“Time to get out of here.” Mackenzie’s jogging shoes squeaked on the floor as she started making her way down one of the aisles in the chrome kitchen.
“Shhh!” Silver hissed and held up her hand.
Everyone went still and completely quiet.
Voices.
Distant at first but growing stronger.
The D’Danann warriors drew their swords. Conlan and Hawk went to the entrance, and each stood on one side of the thick doorframe. Hawk was next to Ian. They pressed themselves against the walls and held their swords up.
Conlan motioned with his hand for the witches to get down.
All the D’Anu witches prepared to do magic at the same time they hid at strategic points around the kitchen. When it came to fighting Fomorii demons, gray magic was in order. The gray magic Coven of witches used powers the white magic witches scorned and forbade—even though gray magic had saved their butts a few times, thanks to Sydney and her Coven.
Sydney’s heart pounded as she ducked and hid behind the chrome counter from which Darkwolf had taken the butcher knife. She peered around the corner at the entrance.
Even though they sounded like they were trying to keep their voices low, they became close enough that Sydney could hear a few of the people speak.
“This hotel is enormous.” A woman’s murmur. “How will we find them?”
A man, obviously trying to keep his voice down, too, said “Ceithlenn visioned that they would be in the kitchen.”
“Shush!” came a third voice.
For a moment silence reigned.
Sydney held completely still as she continued to peer around the corner, just far enough to see a group of men and women stride up to the kitchen entrance.
She could only make out the first three—a man dressed in a business suit, one beautiful blonde woman in a T-shirt and jeans, and a redhead in a sassy, short skirt.
“No one’s here and it’s far too quiet,” businessman whispered as he eased through the doorway.
“The pair might be hiding,” short and sassy skirt said. “Darkwolf and Junga could already know we’re here.”
Sydney frowned. It sounded like these people were looking for the warlock and the demon-woman, not for her and her teammates. Something didn’t compute.
“You two were fucking loud enough,” growled T-shirt and jeans.
Stealth was definitely not a Fomorii forte.
The first three intruders passed the D’Danann guarding the entrance so quickly that they didn’t notice the warriors. More men and women appeared in the doorway.
The woman in the T-shirt and jeans glanced over her shoulder. She whirled and shouted, “D’Danann!”
At the same time she shouted, the woman began to shift—
Into a Fomorii demon.
In seconds her features morphed from the beautiful blonde into a hideous demon. This one had a huge mottled head with three eyes, and four arms hung from its thick body.
Just as fast, the man and other woman changed into their demon forms. One was deep blue with two arms and ears that looked like a bat’s. The other demon was multi-legged and bright orange.
Other Fomorii poured into the room at the sound of the first demon’s cry.
Roars and snarls echoed in the kitchen, and the sickening Fomorii odor of rotting fish made Sydney gag.
Despite the stench, Sydney took a deep breath to try to calm her pounding heart before she shot from her hiding place straight for the first demon.
Sydney flung magic from both hands and wrapped the ropes around the demon, immobilizing its arms. In spite of its bonds, the demon snarled and came at Sydney with its gaping maw.
She whirled out of its reach just in time for Ian to behead the demon. Its body instantly crumbled into silt.
Around them, a small war waged. Witches’ spellfire balls flew, demons clawed, D’Danann hacked away with swords. Spellfire crackled and exploded into fireworks whenever it struck any of the chrome surfaces in the kitchen.
Sydney’s ears rang from the screeches and shouts, the crashes of bodies being flung against the counters, and swords striking Fomorii iron-tipped claws. Utensils scattered over the floor, frying pans sailed across the room. And Fomorii—they were everywhere.
Dear Anu, so many demons!
Another Fomorii turned its attention to her. Sydney flung her magical ropes at the creature, but it still charged forward. Sydney backpedaled. She ducked and barely missed being gutted as a demon at her side slashed at her with its claws.
Now two demons charged her.
Using one hand, Sydney threw a spellfire ball into the mouth of the first demon. Its head erupted into flames, and it screeched so loud her ears rang.
The spellfire wouldn’t kill it, as the demon would heal almost at once. Only beheading it or taking its heart would eliminate the beast.
Sydney whipped out a magic rope and tied it around the massive legs of the second demon, causing it to trip—and almost fall on her.
Sydney dropped and rolled under one of the shining metal tables, almost losing her glasses. The demon hooked its claws into her arm and sliced a path from her shoulder to her elbow.
She couldn’t hold back the scream of pain that ripped through her. Goddess, it was like fire! If she were Fae or Elvin, those iron-tipped claws could potentially be fatal to her just by entering her flesh.
The snarling creature swiped at her again. Sydney gritted her teeth and held her injured arm to her chest as she scrambled out of its way. Blood from her wound smeared the floor as she made it into the next aisle in the kitchen.
She got to her feet just in time to face yet another demon.
With a shout almost as loud as a D’Danann warrior’s cry, she launched a spellfire ball straight into the demon’s eyes. It roared and staggered backward into the path of Conlan’s sword.
The warrior lopped the demon’s head off, and it rolled onto one of the counters, trailing blood across the surface until the head turned into a small pile of silt.
As the rest of the demon’s body crumbled at their feet, Conlan and Sydney gave one another a quick look. His gaze took in the gash on her arm and the blood dripping down to her fingers.
His jaw tightened. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Fine.”
Battle lust mixed with concern was in his eyes before she turned away and ran toward a demon that Alyssa tried to fight off.
Sydney had no time to think. She nearly blew the head from another demon’s shoulders with a spellfire ball.
She might need to rein it in a tad.
Gray magic witches would do what it took to save their people from evil—almost anything. They would incapacitate, slow down, fight off, and bind demons.
They couldn’t and wouldn’t kill—they left that up to the D’Danann. Silver had killed a demon once—by accident— and it had nearly torn her apart.
Adrenaline pumped through Conlan, and he growled as he beheaded the closest demon. Before that demon turned to silt, Conlan had already taken out another Fomorii.
The entire time he fought, he never completely took his attention off Sydney. Whenever she battled a demon, his chest tightened and blood pounded in his ears.
And her arm. Gods, how bad was it?
The thought of her dying sent a black rage through him.
He beheaded the beast that had clawed her then jumped over the counter to take on the next demon she fought. The fact she had been hurt ripped at his insides. He should have been there to stop the demon.
With his centuries of training, fighting was as natural as breathing. He was keenly aware of all that went on around him and still kept Sydney in his thoughts.
The witches’ spellfire balls seared paths straight toward the oncoming demons. His brethren battled with swords and dodged Fomorii claws.
The demons knew one weakness of Fae and Elves, and had purposefully tipped their claws with deadly iron.
It seemed as if the battle lasted forever, hacking, slicing, clawing, magic burning. But it was over within what was but a breath of time to the D’Danann.
A quick glance around the kitchen told him the witches and D’Danann had fared well enough with the exception of Sydney’s arm.
That was until he saw the young warrior Ian drop his sword. It clattered to the floor as Ian grabbed his belly with both his hands.
“Ian!” Conlan’s gut churned as he jumped over the two counters between himself and Ian. Just as he made it to Ian’s side, the warrior started to pitch forward.
Conlan caught Ian to him and cursed in Gaelic. “Where are you hurt?” Conlan said.
Ian’s face was growing white. He opened his mouth and blood dribbled from its corners.
“Godsdamnit!” Hawk swept everything off one of the counters and it all went crashing to the floor.
Conlan lifted Ian and laid him flat on the counter. Blood coated both of them, but most of it was Ian’s. When Conlan moved Ian’s arms from where he’d been grasping his stomach, Conlan’s body went cold.
Ian’s belly was ripped open and blood poured from the gaping wound. Iron from Fomorii claws was already eating away at his vital organs. If it had been a surface wound, he probably could have been saved.
But not this.
“It is beyond any of our healers’ skills.” Conlan looked at Sydney. “Or your healers’.”
Ian groaned, and more blood bubbled up from his mouth to slide down the side of his face. His words were difficult to discern as he spoke. “I go to join my brethren in Summerland.”
He grasped Conlan’s hand. “Rest easy, brothers,” Ian said as he looked at all three men. “And D’Anu sisters,” he added before he began to fade away.
Conlan held Ian’s hand until there was nothing left to hold. Ian’s form wavered and vanished, leaving only a few sparkles where his body had been. They winked themselves out.
He was gone.
The shock of his death and the screaming pain in her arm made Sydney’s head spin. Her knees gave out and she hit the floor.
And fell into darkness.
6
Balor sniffed the stifling air in the sewer passage and grasped with his senses, reaching out for his eye.
Something shrouded the eye Darkwolf kept from him, yet it still drew Balor like a lodestone.
He ground his teeth, and fury caused such an intense heat that the sewage at his feet boiled. Filth coated his body and his loincloth, and the stench clogged his nose. But it was no worse than the place he had been used to before he had been drawn from Underworld by his goddess wife.
Where was she? He missed Ceithlenn’s fire, her body, her love.
With his hands pressed to either side of the rough brick sewer passage, he moved blindly onward toward his eye. The eye that should have been returned to the center of his forehead the moment he was brought to this Otherworld.
The eye he could use to slay thousands by merely focusing on them.
Balor’s magical powers were great even without the eye, but he needed it to make this world his. He would return to Ireland, where he had ruled among the other gods two millennia ago. The old gods had retreated to Otherworld.
Now only Balor and his wife would own this Earth Otherworld.
But Darkwolf and that bitch of a Fomorii demon had betrayed him. Somewhere the warlock was hiding.
Balor would find him. And kill him.
He came to an abrupt stop. All his senses burned with the knowledge. Darkwolf and the eye were leaving whatever sanctuary had shielded them so well.
The god clenched his fists and turned in the direction his eye was moving.
7
When the seven remaining D’Danann and D’Anu arrived at Sydney’s house, she thought she would collapse again.
Exhaustion hit her as her adrenaline rush faded. Hanging from the ledge, using the spells to get out of the pantry, fighting the Fomorii, and the wound on her arm—
Oh, and let’s not forget getting caught buck naked, sucking Conlan.
Just the memory sent a rush of heat throughout her entire body.
Chaos greeted them at the door with a whine and bark. Sydney could tell right away the Doberman familiar sensed her pain and her injury.
Normally he jumped up and planted his paws right on her chest in greeting. This time he trotted at her side, making whimpering sounds of concern as her friends helped her toward the kitchen.
The pain in her arm from the Fomorii claws was so great that her eyes watered and she had to grit her teeth.
When Sydney had passed out at the hotel, Silver had used magic to help stem the blood flow and begin the healing process. Conlan had taken off his leather tunic and wrapped it around her arm to further protect it until they reached Sydney’s home.
Silver immediately sat Sydney down at the kitchen table to work on her arm, Mackenzie and Alyssa joining them. Hawk and Cael headed off to take showers, Hawk in the downstairs bathroom and Cael upstairs. Conlan followed the witches into the small kitchen.
Unlike the six other gray magic D’Anu witches who had lived in an apartment building in the Haight-Ashbury district, both Sydney and Hannah owned houses. Hannah was w
ealthy enough to have bought her own, whereas Sydney had inherited hers.
Due to a great battle with the goddess Ceithlenn, the other witches and Hannah had lost their homes. Fortunately, Sydney hadn’t been identified as one of the witches who’d fought in that battle and her house had not been seized.
Since returning from Otherworld, the four D’Anu and four D’Danann had been using Sydney’s house as their base while they searched San Francisco for Darkwolf and Junga.
Seven now. There were only seven of them remaining. Sydney’s head swam and her heart ached at losing Ian.
Rage bubbled inside Sydney, pushing aside the pain. “Damn the Fomorii, damn Darkwolf and Junga!” she shouted and clenched her fists.
Witches didn’t believe in hell or damnation, but Sydney could think of no other words to describe her fury at them at this moment.
“I can’t believe Ian’s gone.” Sydney choked over her words as she looked at the faces of her friends in her kitchen. “And what will we do without him?”
From behind her, Conlan settled his hands on her shoulders. Her anger made her want to shrug out of his grasp, but she let him massage her neck and shoulders instead.
“We will send word to Otherworld of Ian’s passing on to Summerland.” Conlan’s hands worked magic with her tense muscles. “Another warrior will come to aid Alyssa.”
Ian had been Alyssa’s teammate. The witch looked shell-shocked as she sat in the kitchen next to Mackenzie, across the table from Sydney.
Mac had come out unscathed, but Alyssa had a gouge on her neck, and she was holding a bloodied cloth to it. Her T-shirt was shredded across her chest, exposing the body armor beneath—armor that no doubt had saved her life.
“Where are your healing supplies?” Silver asked Sydney as she went to the oak cabinets.
“To the left of the sink.” Sydney winced as a fresh wave of pain washed through her arm. Chaos laid his head on her lap, and she felt the power of his magic in the comfort he gave her.
The kitchen was one of Sydney’s favorite places in her home. It had oak cabinets, marble countertops, and a rack hanging from the ceiling above the kitchen island with gleaming copper-bottomed pots and pans. The kitchen floor was oak too, and Silver’s jogging shoes made soft sounds as she returned with several bottles and jars.
One Breath Page 4
