by Ann Gimpel
“Bully for them.” Colleen’s voice dripped sarcasm, but she didn’t care. Pulling down a side street a block from her house, she shoved her car door open and got out. “We’ll walk from here.”
“I’ll ward us.” He rushed to her side of the car and pulled her close. “If it looks like we’ll need it, can you handle an invisibility spell?”
“Yes.” Her heart pounded hard. “Hurry. I couldn’t stand it if anything bad happened to any of them.”
Chapter Twelve
Duncan drew magic softly, subtly to create a ward; he didn’t want to alert anyone to their presence. Colleen led them to the back of a ramshackle three-story house. Lights blazed from inside. He felt her stiffen next to him just about the time he got a good, strong whiff of Irichna. She loosed a string of curses in her head, but he heard them.
“How many are there? I can’t tell. It feels like one huge clump of evil to me.” He shielded his mind voice just for her.
“Three.” She paused. “Maybe more. Hard to tell, but I sense at least three of the bastards.”
“Do we need help?”
She nodded, vibrating with outrage. “Bubba’s helpless, so either Jenna or Roz will be protecting him. At least they’re all still alive.”
Hoping against hope he wouldn’t raise Andraste again, Duncan released a distress signal. Colleen hooked an arm through his and pulled. “Let’s circle the house and see what we can.”
Because it was as good an idea as any, he followed her. Unfortunately, the house sat high above the street. To peer into the windows, they’d have to get much closer, which didn’t seem wise, since they hadn’t been discovered—yet. He drew her back to where they’d started and said, “I can get more information using magic.”
The air near them glittered oddly. Colleen raised her hands, ready to strike. “Wait,” Duncan said, his voice very low. “They may be on our side.”
He recognized fae energy, but not the pair who shimmered into being. Duncan draped magic about them to muffle conversation and inserted his body between Colleen and the newcomers. “Names,” he barked, wondering if they were Seelie or Unseelie.
The woman’s shoulder-length black hair bobbed as she shook her head in what looked like annoyance. Lines formed around the corners of her green eyes when she narrowed them in disapproval. A skintight black jumpsuit fit her like a second skin and her feet were bare. “Och aye, ’tisn’t enough we heeded your call?” she asked.
“No. It isn’t,” Duncan snapped. “I am one of the Sidhe Elders. I do not know you.”
“Duncan!” Colleen’s mind voice was sharp. “We scarcely have time for this. Either let them help us, or tell them to leave.”
The man inclined his head. His dark hair shimmied around him, falling to chest level. Eyes the color of gray smoke held an otherworldly aspect. Like all fae, he was beautiful, with a gamin’s face and a perpetually youthful look. In contrast to the woman’s formfitting garb, he wore a midnight blue robe, sashed with teal. “We are dark fae, from the Unseelie Court.” He held up a hand, no doubt in response to the antipathy flickering from Duncan’s eyes. “Ye hold no love for us, yet we consider the Irichna an enemy as well, or we would not have shown ourselves.”
“Aye, the demons have grown powerful. ’Tis a concern for us all,” the woman added. She set her hands on her hips. “What shall it be, Sidhe? Will ye swallow your misplaced pride—?”
Glass shattered. Jenna shrieked. Roz shouted. “Godless bastards!”
Colleen broke from behind him and sprinted for the house.
Not much reason for stealth now. “I don’t have time for the formal acceptance speech,” he told the fae. “Follow me. I have no idea how to weave my magic with yours.”
“We will figure it out.” Satisfaction ran beneath the man’s low, musical voice. Duncan wondered if he hadn’t invited the back half of a trap to snap closed behind them, but the die was cast. He reached the broken window, but Colleen was already inside. He heard her chanting. The fae dashed past him and catapulted through the window, graceful as gazelles. Duncan pulled magic and followed them.
The living room was a shambles. Furniture had been overturned. Broken glass littered the carpeted floor. Roz clutched Bubba in her arms. Blood ran down her face and arms. One of the Irichna stood inches from her. Duncan saw the witch’s essence fade as it flowed into the demon who lapped it like nectar. Bubba’s energy just felt…wrong. Where Roz was weak, the changeling was far too strong, almost as if he were helping the Irichna, or gathering strength from it.
Makes sense if Mathilde is linked to him.
Jenna lay on the floor face down. Were they too late to save her? Duncan pushed magic forward and felt a faint pulse as her life flickered. Colleen had pounced on one of the demons. They wrestled on the floor, shifting forms so quickly he couldn’t figure out quite what they were. Her clothing lay in shreds, scattered about. Obviously, she hadn’t had time to take anything off before she shifted.
“We will help the changeling,” the male fae said. He and the woman converged on the demon sucking the life from Roz.
Duncan raced forward. “Help the witch. I’ll take the changeling. He’s linked to the demons through no fault of his own.” Roz’s eyes widened in horror at his words and she thrust Bubba into his arms.
Duncan had just sent magic into the changeling to determine how to sever his connection with Mathilde when something hit his warding with a blast of magic from behind.
The third Irichna.
He’d forgotten Colleen had said there were three. Duncan flew through the air, frantically pulling magic to soften their landing, and flopped on his stomach, right on top of the changeling.
“Ooph,” Bubba grunted, but he wriggled beneath Duncan, which probably meant he wasn’t injured.
“Sorry.” Duncan kept his voice low. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. I’m going to crawl under the sofa,” Bubba whispered against Duncan’s chest. “Do something so no one will notice me under there. I feel the wickedness inside, but I think I can keep from surrendering to it—for a little while. Help Roz and Jenna and Colleen.”
Duncan shielded the changeling while he skittered beneath one of the dust covers at the back of a couch, and cast a don’t look here spell. He also sent up a prayer to Danu to watch over the little creature until he could get back to him.
Jumping to his feet, he sent power spiraling outward. The Irichna who’d attacked him moved closer, laughing. He looked like an innocent youth, with dimpled cheeks and blond curls, dressed in dungarees and a plaid shirt. Duncan scanned the room. It was hard to tell how Jenna was, beyond the fact that she was still alive. Roz and the two fae seemed to be holding their own against the demon. Roz’s energy was a little stronger, but blood still dripped from open wounds crisscrossing her face and arms.
Colleen and the demon she fought had morphed into wolves, snapping, snarling, and tearing at one another. At least she didn’t look wounded and her life force pulsed strongly. Duncan reached deep, channeling power he knew about, but had never tapped before. It came from the oldest magic and was damn near uncontrollable, which was why the Sidhe left it alone. When he had it as well in hand as he could, he loosed it at the still-laughing demon, masquerading as an innocent youth.
Duncan’s hair stood on end; every nerve frazzled as power surged through him. It felt as if he’d channeled lightning. But the simpering smile on the demon’s face faltered, and then winked out. The fine-boned youth’s form gave way to a pock-marked ancient with open pustules marking his naked body. Duncan understood he was seeing the demon’s true form for the first time.
Because it was working, he let power flow through him, wondering how long he could serve as a conduit for an energy source designed by the Celtic gods. If Andraste had tapped into it, it hadn’t worked for her, but it was working for him, which was all that mattered. His breath came in little panting gasps. All his muscles strained with the effort of channeling raw magic into the Irichna. Finally, when he
knew he’d have to release his hold on the magic soon, or be consumed by it, the demon folded in upon itself, wavered, and vanished.
Duncan wanted to sink to the floor, panting, but he took stock of the others. The Irichna that had threatened Roz was gone and the fae had closed on the battling wolves. Duncan joined them.
“Impressive, Sidhe.” The woman flashed him a feral grin that twisted her beauty into something fierce.
“Aye, and can ye do it again?” the male asked.
Can I? “Maybe.”
“You’ve gotta get Colleen away from the demon first.” Roz’s voice sounded like river-washed gravel coated her throat. She’d picked up Jenna from the floor and laid her on a couch. Roz sat next to the other witch, hands on either side of her face. Jenna’s eyelids fluttered.
One of the wolves glittered and shifted. Colleen stood, chest heaving, naked. “That was the easy part.” She sidestepped the demon, which was still in wolf form, and aimed a jolt of magic its way. The two fae slid between her and the wolf. It lifted its muzzle, scenting the air, and its lupine eyes widened.
“Och aye,” the female fae sneered. “Your fell companions have left. We like these odds much better.”
“Give me a minute or two and I’ll see he gets to Hell.” Roz rose from where she’d been seated next to Jenna.
The wolf skinned its upper lip back, bared its fangs, and snarled. Gray dust rose around it. When the cloud cleared it was gone.
Duncan blew out a weary breath. “Too fucking bad these three will live to fight another day.”
“Not the one ye targeted, Sidhe,” the male fae said. “I am not clear where ye sent him, but I know he is gone. I felt him dissolving. They canna return once what pins them together has failed.”
The female raised her head, nose twitching. “Damn it! We are not yet clear of them.”
“It’s not what you think.” Duncan stumbled across the room, lay on the floor, and fished Bubba’s inert body from beneath the couch. Colleen moaned and threw herself toward them, landing half on top of Duncan. “Aw, shit, shit, shit. Is he dead?” Her voice choked with emotion.
Duncan sent magic carefully into the changeling’s small body. What he found wasn’t encouraging; the changeling had gone deep, closing the upper levels of his mind to keep Mathilde’s magic from spreading, and to deny the witch access to him. Duncan placed Bubba on the couch, awed by his courage. “Not dead, but not far from it. He kept his word, though. The changeling has mettle. He contained the evil inside of him, and kept Mathilde out of his mind. And out of our midst.”
“What can we do?” Roz hovered. “I fear it’s beyond my healing ability.”
The fae drew near. “Whose creature is he?” the man demanded.
“Mine.” From where she sat on the floor, Colleen settled a hand on Bubba’s forehead. “Oh my God, he’s cold as ice.” She scooted closer, bent so her ear was against his chest, and listened. “His heart is still beating, but it’s too slow.” She straightened. Her anguished gaze, eyes shiny with tears, sought Roz’s. “If we’d known when we first got back here, maybe we could have—”
Duncan made a chopping motion with one hand. “What’s important is what we do now.” He glanced at the fae. “Are either of you healers?”
The man nodded. “Aye. That would be me.”
“Can you sense a demon’s marker within the changeling?” The fae nodded and Duncan congratulated himself for being correct about Mathilde’s treachery. “Do you have any idea how to remove it without killing him?”
The man muttered in Gaelic, and then switched to English. “I am not certain, yet this thing must be done.”
“Aye, at least if we kill him, he will die clear of demon taint,” the female fae said.
“How can I help?” Colleen looked from Duncan to the two dark fae.
“Since he is yours, you must hold him,” the male fae said.
“Aye, and ’tis tricky,” the female added. “Ye must take care, or the evil will lodge itself within you. Because witch magic is mixed up in this, ’twill have an affinity for you and the other two witches in here.” She shot meaningful looks at Roz and Jenna, who’d moved to a sitting position. Jenna’s face was pale, but her hazel eyes burned with fury.
Duncan didn’t like the sound of that at all. He moved to Colleen’s side and wove an arm around her. “Can I do this thing in her stead?”
The male fae shook his head. “Nay. Ye may sit next to her, though, and infuse power—assuming ye have any left—into her if ye sense her weakening.”
Still naked, Colleen scrambled to her feet, scooped Bubba up, and sat on the couch. Duncan took his place next to her and draped the changeling’s legs over his lap. “I’m ready,” she said through bloodless lips. Duncan felt her desolation—and her guilt—in the set of her body next to his. He wanted to murmur encouragement, but Bubba’s situation was grim and they both knew it. He felt Colleen ward herself and did the same.
“There is one thing else ye must know afore we begin.” The male fae hunkered so his smoky eyes were on a level with Colleen’s. “I canna predict exactly what will happen. Anything is possible. What is within yon changeling’s body will fight to retain its hold. Your creature will struggle. He may hurt you, but ye must not let go until I tell you ’tis safe.”
He switched his unnerving gaze to Duncan. “Ye are limited to infusing magic into the witch. If ye do aught else, ye will interfere with my summoning and binding spells.”
Duncan nodded tersely. “I understand.” Bubba’s body jerked; his head lolled to one side. “Hurry,” Duncan said. “I’m afraid he’s dying.”
Magic rose around them. It had a different feel from his own, yet it felt clean. Duncan wondered if he—and the rest of the Sidhe—had misjudged the Unseelie Court all these years. Bubba thrashed. An ungodly moan rose from him, followed by another. Colleen looked so broken, it opened a hole in his soul.
The changeling arched his back; his heels thrummed on Duncan’s lap, almost as if he were having a seizure. Who knew? Maybe he was. Fae magic deepened about them. Duncan’s heartbeat quickened. The Unseelie might hate demons, but they had their own agenda. He hoped to hell it didn’t include shanghaiing him and Colleen for some nefarious scheme he could only guess at.
The female fae got close enough to shake a finger in front of him. “None of that,” she snapped. “Weakens the spell. Ye must believe if we are to save the wee man.”
Colleen turned accusing eyes on him. “If you can’t help, go away.” She pulled Bubba’s body entirely into her arms.
Defenses leaped to his lips, but he swallowed them. “I want to stay. I will repress my doubts.”
“Is that good enough?” Colleen stared at the female fae. She hesitated for a long moment, then nodded sharply.
Duncan felt the fae’s magic, which had withdrawn, thicken again. He focused on the changeling’s weakening body, but kept his own magic contained. He remembered the fae’s instructions: he could only shore Colleen up if her magic looked as if it were failing.
Bubba’s eyes snapped open. Fire burned in their normally dark depths. He bared his teeth and made a lunge for Colleen’s neck. She gripped him tighter and held him away from her. He writhed in her arms, growling, snapping, and drooling like a rabid dog. Colleen’s expression reflected horror—and determination. Bubba laughed and gouged her, drawing blood wherever he made contact.
Duncan wanted to reach out to both of them, to soothe their pain. He ached for Colleen. If the changeling died, she’d have a hell of a time forgiving herself—if she even could.
Anguish etched deep furrows into Colleen’s face. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she held fast. Bubba raked his nails down her breasts. She tried to hold him farther out, but his arms were as long as hers.
A struggle played out on the changeling’s expressive features. One moment, he looked like a small demon, the next chagrin twisted his mouth and tears dripped down his face. “Sorry, Colleen. I’m so sorry,” slid out before something curv
ed his mouth into a grin that was wickedness incarnate, and he called her a bitch and a slut.
Bubba shifted in her grip and kicked her in the stomach. She winced and moved him; he kicked her in the side. Duncan had never felt so helpless. Colleen’s suffering ate at him. He felt it in his heart and soul and guts. He wanted to be part of whatever the fae was doing, so he could speed up the process, but the other magic-wielder hadn’t requested assistance. Stepping into the middle of someone else’s spell, especially when they were using unfamiliar magic, was a recipe for disaster.
Because he had to do something, he send a steadying blast of power into Colleen. Her grip on Bubba tightened and she nodded wordless thanks. An uneven gash opened in the changeling’s shoulder. Blood flowed freely, pouring onto Colleen, the couch, and the floor. Something dark and putrid followed in its wake.
“Strengthen your wards,” the female fae cried and herded the shadow with a spell of her own. It moved back and forth between her hands, and then headed for her chest, but bounced off. Bubba’s rigid body collapsed against Colleen. Both of them were crying, great choking sobs of relief.
“It is done,” the male fae said. “We must leave with the tainted particles we removed.”
Before Duncan could thank them, the Unseelie were gone.
Chapter Thirteen
Colleen rocked Bubba against her. She was naked, but there’d scarcely been time to fetch any clothes. The changeling still felt weak, but he was strengthening by the moment now that Mathilde’s fiendish magic was gone. Duncan plucked a blanket off the back of an overstuffed chair and tucked it around both of them.
“Thanks.” Colleen was too tired to smile.
Roz knelt and placed a hand over Bubba’s wound, which still oozed blood. “Thank Danu for healing I can manage on my own,” she sputtered with a return of her normally acerbic wit.
“Jenna?” Colleen looked across the room and locked gazes with the other witch.
