Sword of the Raven

by Diana Duncan

  Nothing jump-started a morning like B&E on a federal judge’s house.

  She and Rowan had periodically surveilled Zinter’s place from a distance between training sessions, but had seen no activity. Which didn’t mean Zinter was gone. The judge could be holed up licking her wounds and plotting revenge.

  Delaney stepped onto the porch, into crisp fall air canopied by a gleaming lapis sky. Pungent wood smoke curled from the chimney to mingle with the scents of spicy apples and brisk evergreens. A glossy raven circled the horizon, gliding on downdrafts.

  A sweater the color of dark pine hung on the railing. Stripped to the waist, Rowan was engaged in a graceful sword kata on the lawn. Bronzed, tensile muscles undulated as he circled in rhythmic movements, sunlight igniting the sword of ice. Sparkling jade waves behind him silhouetted his sculpted body and sunbeams haloed his black mane. He advanced, then retreated, all steely sinew and coiled strength.

  She watched, mesmerized, as the lethal dance flowed from one fluid battle maneuver to the next. The blade whirled in a shining arc as he pivoted, every agile thrust deliberate. Disciplined. Rowan MacLachlan’s raw power and beauty stopped her heart.

  Her Mage was a living, breathing weapon.

  He spun. Spotting her, he vanished the sword, then strode to the porch. She fought the urge to stare. Failed. His accelerated breathing expanded and contracted the wide chest directly in her line of sight. Perspiration sheened his taut body and roped forearms.

  Everything inside her clenched in yearning.

  Rowan’s smoky silver glance roamed down her body, then back up. He swallowed, cording the strong column of his throat. When he finally spoke, his burr was husky. “That was quick.”

  “I didn’t want to keep you waiting.” She raised her gaze to his.

  Mistake. Irises blazing with sensual green fire compelled her more dangerously than his imposing physique.

  Hunger leapt in the air between them.

  His gaze shifted to the lashing sea. “Let’s get to it, then.” He retrieved his sweater and tugged it on. “Do you remember the cover spell?”

  “Yep.” Looking down at herself, she invoked the incantation. Her body shimmered, then blurred, merging with the ruby and gold forest foliage. She didn’t need to wear camouflage colors for the spell to work, but they made it easier for a beginner. And unlike Rowan’s cloaking spell, she couldn’t yet render herself totally invisible—only very difficult to see.

  Rowan murmured in Gaelic and faded to a misty silhouette. He’d explained his form was invisible to everyone else. She could see him for the same inexplicable reasons they could share thoughts and feelings…they were somehow linked.

  He could’ve made her disappear within his fogged shield like he had at the hospital, but then she’d have to stay shackled to his side during the recon. And she needed to learn to handle Magic, and whatever Gift she was going to get, on her own. Rowan had been burdened with the responsibility to protect all of humankind. He couldn’t babysit her once she was proficient.

  The certainty of his departure left a hollow ache in her chest as she walked into the woods.

  Jeweled leaves crunched beneath her boots, and high in the sky, the raven followed. Several times, her peripheral vision caught the movement when Rowan reached for her hand, then abruptly pulled back. Her compulsion to touch him was just as intense. The sensual awareness between them grew more highly charged by the hour.

  Although Zack was a hot guy, an excellent kisser, and she was strongly attracted to him, she’d never had a problem maintaining control around her ex. Or any other man. But put her anywhere in Rowan’s vicinity, and she started thinking about playing Jump the Mage.

  An extremely dangerous game…with consequences she didn’t dare risk.

  Apparently, neither did Rowan. He’d been badly wounded, physically and emotionally. She’d lost her brother, but he’d lost his entire family in the Dark Uprising, then been imprisoned and tortured. They both carried internal scars. Neither could afford complications.

  Losing focus now could be fatal.

  “Rowan? What was it like growing up in Victorian era Scotland?” While he’d discussed many other topics with her during their nightly chats, he’d avoided personal history.

  His vaporous profile swiveled toward her. “Though my grandparents and parents are…were…Mages, my boyhood was the same as many other lads.”

  “What were your favorite things to do?”

  “Swimming, by far. I would’ve lived in the loch if Mum had let me. My cousins and I also fished and hunted alongside Grandda and Da and our hounds. We grubbed about in the dirt with our toys, went to school, played games, got into scuffles, had campouts and told ghost stories. Did the usual things wee lads do, got into the usual scrapes.”

  “Sounds nice.” Thrilled he trusted her enough to open up, she proceeded with caution. “You mentioned you and your cousins were close. You spent a lot of time with them?”

  “Aye, our extended family lived in the same village. Braden’s mum died when he was young, and he was a bit of a handful. Had quite the temper, did our Braden. So his da relinquished him to the Clan Chieftain, my da, to foster. He and I became true brothers.”

  Knowing a small measure of the suffering he’d experienced over the past year, she was glad his childhood had been happy. “And yet you grew up to become a demon slayer. When did you realize you were…different?”

  “From the time we could walk and talk, the four of us knew our destinies and undertook rigorous training. Though we didn’t come into our full Powers until age thirteen. Our families understood ‘twas important for us to assimilate with the mortals we’d eventually swear an oath to protect before we became Enforcers. They aimed to teach us to be moral, compassionate, and responsible…with varying degrees of success.”

  “You were lucky to have wise and caring parents.”

  “I was, that.” His wide palm settled comfortingly on the small of her back, and although it didn’t appear solid, his hand felt solid—warm and secure. “I’m aware everyone isn’t so fortunate.”

  His family had surpassed their aim. They’d raised an intelligent, caring man and dedicated soldier. The murder of three other Clan MacLachlan Mages who’d possessed Rowan’s phenomenal attributes was a tragic loss.

  He fell silent, immersed in his own musings as they strode side-by-side through the forest. As usual, the closer Delaney got to Judge Zinter’s house, the worse her palms sweated and the more cold dread churned inside her.

  “Feeling anxious?” Rowan asked softly. “It’s an aversion spell. Makes you think you don’t want to go anywhere near the place.”

  “Well, that explains why I always struggled with surveillance here. I could never get this close by myself. Good to know I’m not just a wimp.”

  “You’re anything but, Delaney.” He stroked her back. “And the spell would’ve hit you harder before you received your full Powers. Humans are repelled about four times stronger than Supernaturals.”

  Thinking of herself as “non-human” still made her uneasy. “Since I’ve acquired Powers, will I live longer? Will it be harder for me to die?”

  “I don’t know for certain.” Another considering look. “With Balor hunting you, I hope so.” For both our sakes.

  “Is there a way to test it?”

  “Aye. But that’s not a test you want to be failing.”

  When the boxy silhouette of Zinter’s modern two-story concrete and glass monstrosity became visible through the thick foliage, he held up a transparent hand. “Stop,” he said, his voice low.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Look.”

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “With practice, you’ll be able to pick up source trails left by Magic, similar to seeing jet trails in the sky. Use your other sight, like when you looked at my Aillidh.”

  She opened her senses to the dense landscape around the huge house—designed to hide the structure from prying eyes. Buzzing vibrated i
n her ears. An arm’s length away, crisscrossed, glowing black-barbed lines suddenly appeared. The invisible barrier encompassed the entire property. “A protection spell?”

  “Zinter’s wards. Also blurs the identities of her visitors to outsiders. The wards won’t let anyone through, we’ll have to breach them to get closer.”

  She bent to get a closer look.

  “Don’t!” Rowan snapped.

  Too late. A stinging electrical charge slapped her face, knocked her on her butt.

  “Ouch! Holy crap, I didn’t even touch it!” Rubbing her singed nose, Delaney shakily grasped Rowan’s offered hand and let him tug her upright. “How do we hack through that?”

  “Ordinarily, neither of us could.” His lips curved into the wicked grin that tripped her pulse. “But I have a plan.”

  “Does this plan involve a full moon and naked chanting?”

  He gently kissed the tip of her nose, instantly healing it. Warm lips as velvety as his misty form drifted across her cheekbone, replacing pain with glittering pleasure. “Would you like it to?”

  “I think…” She inhaled unsteadily. “You should explain your strategy.”

  His hand cupped her face. “Better to show you.”

  Leaning down, he feathered his mouth over hers. Slowly. Sweetly. He lingered over the seduction until her eyelids drifted closed. Until she could do nothing but open to the thorough possession of his silky tongue. Open to their searing connection.

  His arms wrapped around her waist. Held so tightly to his big body, his heartbeat thundered against her sensitized breasts. The exquisite pressure of his mouth intoxicated her. Urgent, answering need built as she savored the exhilarating fresh essence that was only Rowan.

  Hot and languorous, his tongue enticed hers to dance, to mate. Raise your Powers, luv.

  Yes. A whispered a sigh of surrender. She wound her arms around his neck. Matched his drugging, potent rhythm…mouths and bodies intimately joined. His need intensified her own. Secure in his embrace, she wanted more. Couldn’t get enough. Languid heat flooded her veins, and she clung to his broad shoulders, never wanting to let go.

  Aye, Delaney, we fit perfectly.

  Delaney knew the instant his Power surged. She felt every sensation as he did. Felt the tidal wave of Rowan’s passion slam against his control as he took all she had—and then gave her back even more turbulent pleasure.

  His desire magnified hers. Spun her senses. Stole her breath.

  Their Powers mingled. Caught in the kiss, they whirled in dizzying circles, her feet not even touching the ground. Bright, sizzling sparks erupted around them, nipping erotically along her skin.

  She gasped, and Rowan broke the kiss.

  Panting, disoriented, she struggled to catch her breath, struggled to discern Rowan’s expression through his hazy mask. “Why did you—”

  “Look.” He took a step back.

  They were standing on the inside of the supernatural barrier. She stared in wonder at the huge jagged hole in the glowing barbs. “The sparks… They happened when we broke through?”

  “Aye.”

  “You’ve done this before to breach wards?” The idea of him kissing another woman with such tender regard, sharing his Power with someone else, scorched her. Beside her, a lush rhododendron blackened and crumbled into ashes.

  His low chuckle rumbled out. “Lucky for me I’m thinking, nay. I haven’t.”

  “So you knew we wouldn’t get fried, how?”

  “Educated guess.”

  “Risky stakes on a guess.”

  “I turned us and backed into it myself first. Had I gotten shocked, I would’ve stopped.”

  Which rankled more than jealousy. “A near miss slammed me down. If your spine had actually touched it… Damn you, Rowan, you shouldn’t have jeopardized yourself! It might have paralyzed you. Or killed you.”

  “I’m not that easy to kill, luv. I figured it’d work. All essences are comprised of energy, and Magic springs from energy. Wards are woven from the maker’s energy to repel foreign essences—like the way two oppositely polarized magnets are unable touch. Merging our essences bonded our dual energies into one neutralized charge, which shielded us as we slid through the wards.”

  Delaney got the distinct impression he was sauntering around the perimeter of the truth. Again. “It sounds plausible. But…why would combining our energy neutralize our Powers? Wouldn’t it make them stron—”

  “You’re hanging out there for all the world to see.”

  “Say what?”

  “You’ve dropped your camo spell.” Mere inches away, his clouded body was angled between her and the house, obscuring her from anyone who might be inside. “You need to learn to operate Magic on a subconscious level, and not let other tasks distract.”

  Tasks. If only her subconscious—and every other mental and physical faculty she possessed—hadn’t short-circuited during his breath-stealing, heart-trembling kiss. “Shut out all distractions, like you just did. Whatever it takes to get the job done.”

  “Aye.”

  Delaney recast the concealment incantation. “Okay…I get it.” Icy fury vanquished her sensual high. “The sexy lip-lock was merely a tool to break the wards. Business, not pleasure.”

  “Sweetheart, kissing you was my pleasure.” He lightly brushed a callused thumb across her lower lip, making her belly clench again.

  She jerked away. “No, you don’t get to do that. Pretend to kiss me all sweet and tender while using me for your own purposes.” She flung a blast of Power at him hard enough to make him stagger. “Try it again and I’ll stomp your ass.”

  He regained his balance. Shook his head. “If I hadn’t wanted to kiss you, Delaney, I’d have found an alternate route through. I didn’t exploit our attraction.” A shadow darkened his eyes before he averted his gaze toward the house. We should stop talking until we discern for certain if anyone is inside the house.

  Best idea you’ve had all day.

  Spiky, forbidding plants that hid the house from outsiders now concealed their covert approach. Crouching beneath window level, they sidled around to the back door.

  Sense anything? Rowan asked.

  She stretched out her Powers, which seemed to vibrate inside her clearer, easier, stronger since their kiss. No.

  Rowan placed his palm on the black steel panel. Nor do I. But we’re screwing with a bloody powerful Sorceress.

  She edged her reply with a warning. I’m not about to forget.

  Rowan circled his index finger in the air. The deadbolt clicked, then the door slowly, noiselessly swung inward.

  Careful, Rowan. It seems too easy.

  It does, that. It could be a trap. Or could be Zinter didn’t expect anyone to have enough Power to compromise her wards. Remember Rule One. Arrogance can be lethal, on either the enemy’s part or ours.

  Delaney followed him inside. The stale smell of disuse permeated the house. A pristine stainless steel and black kitchen opened into a vast main floor dominated by a black granite fireplace and chrome furniture. The austere rooms were all black, white, and gray, with echoing vaulted ceilings.

  She wrinkled her nose. Ugh. Nothing homier than décor done in contemporary Abyss.

  Rowan’s shoulders shook in soundless mirth as he cat-footed ahead of her down an adjoining hallway, boots silent on the cold marble floors. Don’t hold back, what do you really think?

  The first doorway revealed an immense library crowded with leather-bound volumes. All appeared to be about Magic and Supernaturals.

  An ancient tome titled Celtic Potions and Invocations drew her interest like a magnet. Mindful of the worn spine, she reverently opened it and scanned pages. I wish I could spend a week in here, reading. Do the good guys have a library?

  Mages don’t keep written history. Nor do Guardians. We don’t divulge classified intel.

  No doubt smart, but disappointing. She re-shelved the book.

  The library stepped-down into a hexagonal office. Floor to ceili
ng windows overlooked rocky cliffs with rolling blue-green waves slapping at their feet. A laptop sat on a massive black desk in the room’s center.

  Hello! Delaney pulled a high capacity flash drive from her hoodie pocket. I came prepared.

  Brilliant, lass. Rowan cocked his head, listening. Still no signs of anyone. You access Zinter’s intel while I scope out the rest of the top two floors. Contact me if you need me.

  Delaney waved distractedly, already sliding into the leather chair and booting up the unit. Employing her Powers to ferret out the password didn’t occur to her until after a succession of dead ends.

  Ah, open sesame. She grinned as she easily penetrated the firewall and Zinter’s files appeared onscreen. Encryption thwarted her from immediate reading, but nothing stopped her from downloading them onto the flash drive. You’d think a Sorceress with aspirations to take over the world would have better security.

  Intent on her task, she barely registered Rowan’s low chuckle inside her thoughts. Or the soft rustling noises in the background. Until something thumped the bottom of a bookcase.

  Her head jerked up. A scream jammed in her throat.

  Dozens of huge rattlesnakes slithered across the floor toward her.

  The scream burst free, echoing off the windowpanes as she scrambled onto the desktop. Rowan, help! Hissing vipers reared up, mouths gaping red as dripping fangs struck inches from her feet.

  Terrifying seconds passed before she summoned her sword. Delaney swung left, right, her frantic chops unable to hack off the triangular heads faster than they attacked. Blood and venom sprayed her boots. Rowan!

  Hold fast, luv. On the way.

  Oh, God, hurry!

  Fog boiled through the doorway and he materialized—dead center in the writhing mass.

  “Look out!”

  “Sugh!” He slapped his palms together.

  Loud crackling noises erupted from the huge snakes’ scaly bodies. Squirming and hissing, tails rattling, fangs snapping, they began to shrivel…then evaporated to nothing but empty skin.

  A thick, musty reptilian smell hung in the sudden silence. Rowan’s boots crunched on dried husks as he strode to where she stood trembling on the desktop. “Were you bitten?”