by Diana Duncan
“For ransom?”
“Blood sacrifices,” Archer said. “A lot of ‘em.” He banked the chopper in a wide circle. “They’ll have to perform a motherfucking atomic ritual to pull Balor out of the Abyss.”
She gasped. “How are the three of us going to save all those people from hundreds of demons?”
Rowan’s gut twisted. “With a kick-arse tactical plan.”
Archer glanced at him over Delaney’s head, face grim. “Hope you’ve got one.”
“Working on it.”
“Work fast.” He shoved the throttle forward. “I can bring ten, maybe twelve to the party.”
Damned impressive, considering how few Supernaturals were left after the mass slaughter. “What sort of Powers?”
“Lower level Supes, nothing close to ours. But dedicated. They’ll stand and fight.” The Guardian’s jaw tightened. “Or die trying.”
“I’ll want details.”
“You’ll get ‘em, if we plan as a team.” Archer swept the chopper in a fast, exhilarating arc over the slate gray ocean. “We got what we need here?”
“Aye. For the moment.”
Delaney tucked away the camera as the helicopter sped back inland. “If the bad guys can free Balor from the Abyss, then we can free Connor, too, right?” She pressed her palm to the window. “I’d give my blood for my brother’s life.”
Rowan’s stomach pitched again. “We can try. Without a blood sacrifice. But once someone who’s not a demon goes in…they don’t come out.”
I did.
An unheard of anomaly. Don’t count on it happening a second time, luv. “It’d help if we could locate his Mentor,” he said aloud. “To know which spells they cast.”
“I wish. It’s not like Mentors-R-Us takes out ads in the Yellow Pages.” She stiffened, then swiveled to face him. “Yellow Pages. Phone book!” Her hand slapped her forehead. “If I had a few more brain cells, I’d be dangerous. Connor told me how!”
Rowan nodded as realization dawned. “His cell phone.”
“He’d likely have called or texted this mentor, or they’ve phoned or texted him. Even if he deleted his call log, there are ways to access the info. I’ve seen it done, I’ve done it myself, for the DA’s office! All we need is his phone from the storage unit and a computer!”
* * *
Several hours later, Delaney parked her GTO at the foot of a twisty dirt lane ninety-one kilometers east of Portland. Rowan exited the passenger seat and glanced around. Surrounded by dense woods, Mt. Hood loomed high above them, a lofty sentinel brandishing a mantle of snow on broad blue shoulders. He’d cloaked their approach, and the only sound was a brook chattering uneasily in the distance. A pair of hawks circled in the sun-breaks overhead, suspiciously eyeballing Delaney’s ever-present raven.
He immediately caught the lush, elusive scent of the nearly extinct ancient Power they were dealing with, which both puzzled and disturbed him.
It took him a surprising three tries to trick the thorny tangle of wards before he and Delaney could traverse the lane toward a small log cabin banked by wide rivers of brightly colored flowers and rambling herb beds.
“I’m not expecting trouble from this one, but if anything goes wrong, play it by ear. ‘Twill be good field practice.”
“You still haven’t told me the species of this Ms. Sage O’Farrell.”
“Because I’m wanting you to hone your instincts. What do you sense?”
“Just…a weird quiet. All I feel is pervading, unearthly stillness, almost as if whoever resides here lives in suspended animation. Not ready to wake up.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sleeping Beauty.”
Movement flickered in his peripheral vision. Turned out Sage O’Farrell was wide awake…and fleeing on noiseless bare feet through the woods to their left.
What the feck? He’d solidly cloaked them. No way she could’ve alerted to their presence.
He evaporated into mist, then reformed directly in her path. Panting, she skidded to a halt. Near Delaney’s age, the lass was five foot four at the most. Her taut body was lithe and slender beneath a diaphanous lavender blouse and tan linen trousers. A wispy cap of sun-streaked caramel hair was tousled from running, and irises the same bright green as new spring grass stared up at him. Fear had dilated her pupils and bleached her porcelain skin milk white.
As Delaney ran up to flank his right, ivy snaked from the undergrowth to trip her flat. At the same instant, the massive oak behind Rowan wrapped him in gnarly limbs. Sage raced away in a zigzagging sprint through the trees.
Rowan summoned his sword and slashed off the branches entrapping him. The oak creaked and thrashed in pain. Already thirty meters ahead, Sage screamed and dropped as if she’d been shot.
He again materialized in front of his fugitive, then stared down at her curled in a fetal position at his feet.
Delaney quickly caught up. “What in the world—”
“Enforcer.” Sage O’Farrell shoved to her knees, looked up at him, her eyes brimming with dread…and soul-deep pain that stole his breath. “I know I broke Cabal law, but I was trying to help him. He came to me. Begged for my help! Kill me, just please don’t destroy my trees.”
“I’m not here with a terminate order, Druid. I merely have a few questions.” He raised her chin with the point of his blade, making her tremble. “Though I would caution you not to lie.”
Ease up, big bad Enforcer, Delaney arrowed into his head. No need to scare her to death. Ever heard of honey, not vinegar? “Druid?” she said out loud. “Okay, that explains the funky foliage.”
Rowan sheathed his blade. “Get up, lass.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Sage clambered to her feet. Her glance lingered on Delaney, and she gulped. “I’d recognize you anywhere. You’re Connor’s sister.”
“You heard what happened to him?” Delaney asked.
“Yes. I’m so sorry.” Troubled leaf-green eyes flickered back to Rowan. Raked him from forehead to boot toes, not missing a single detail. “These days, Enforcers are almost as scarce as Druids. Which Clan?”
“Rowan MacLachlan, Clan MacLachlan.”
“The MacLachlan?” She stumbled an involuntary step backward. “They said you were dead.”
“Only my brain.”
Delaney coughed to cover a smothered laugh. The Scottish brand of honey?
‘Tis the truth, is it not?
Sage looked from him to Delaney, and back. Suspicion and animosity radiated from the wee lass. “What do you want from me, Enforcer?”
How are you reading her? he silently asked Delaney.
Terrified and distrustful of you, but you know that. She cares about Connor, which makes her want to believe me. She’s sensing the connection between me and you…and is confused and scared by it. For some reason, she’s purposefully isolated herself here. But she’s lonely.
Bang-on assessment and exponentially more insightful than his own. His Power wasn’t the only one their mutual link had ramped up. We’ll get better intel if you question her, then. Take the lead.
Delaney brushed leaves and dirt off her clothes. “Sage, do you mind if we talk inside?”
“Damned straight, I mind.” Sage crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s not welcome in my house. We’ll talk out here.”
“All right. We just want to ask you a few questions. The answers might help Connor.”
“Connor is beyond help. Which you already know…since you’ve been in the Abyss. Although I can’t imagine how you boldly went where—with one previous exception—no man or woman has gone before.”
Delaney started. “How do you—”
“The proof doesn’t lie. There’s a shadow on your aura.” Sage jutted her chin at an area near Delaney’s right elbow. “A black hole depleting your energy.”
Rowan got the distinct impression this Druid saw a great number of things she wasn’t supposed to.
“Can it be patched, filled in…whatever?” Delaney asked.
“You’re t
hinking of trying again to retrieve your brother. You’re a lot like him. The man didn’t get the meaning of ‘mortal danger.’ I warned him. And warned him. And freakin’ warned him about a Power transfer attempt. But he was stubbornness personified, and he loved you desperately.” Sage frowned. “And for a novice, he was way in over his hard head.”
“Which doesn’t really answer my question.”
“The answer is no. Unequivocally no. As in, no way in hell. Even if you do manage to finagle your way into the Abyss again, the black hole will grow. Consume you, so you won’t ever be able to escape.”
“You’re sure? There’s not some out-clause incantation or loophole spell?”
“Trust me, I’ve done extensive Abyss study because of the one exception I mentioned. Finn MacCumhail, Erin’s great third-century warrior, fostered by my ancient Druid ancestors. He thought he could pop in and out like a jack-in-the-box. Until one day…poof. Gone forever, along with his entire battalion, the Fianna. Can’t get them back, though we Druids have tried, oh, about a thousand different ways over the past several thousand years.”
“Finn?” Delaney blinked. “Crazy Irish warrior dude? I’ve met him! When I was there the first time, Finn and his men saved both me and Connor!”
Sage’s hand flew to her throat. “Finn’s essence is still viable? And the Fianna? Connor, too?” Horror, and pity, trembled in her voice. “Imagine the nightmare of being trapped in the Abyss for infinity. I mean it, Delaney. Project that movie in your head. Don’t go dancing with disaster any closer than you already are.”
The Druid speaks wisdom, luv, Rowan added. Although he knew damned well Delaney wouldn’t heed either of them.
Sure, imagine the nightmare my brother is living. Tell me I should just write him off. Then tell me there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to help your cousins.
She had him dead to rights there.
He stepped closer to the Druid, crowding her. “I would be having the incantations you gave Connor.”
She rapidly retreated. “I— I…don’t remember exactly. We sort of colored outside the lines, threw in a pinch of Mage and a dash of Druid until we built spells that worked.”
“I’m not a rank novice, O’Farrell. Mage and Druid Magic don’t mesh. Try again.” He put a hard push of compulsion into the command. “The truth this time.”
Sage winced. “It is the truth! I’ve…em…I’ve also studied Mage Magic.” She held up defensive hands. “Yeah, it’s forbidden. But…my mother— Uh…I’m of mixed race.”
“Druid and Mage?” He let his skepticism show.
“I know, as compatible as a forest and a wildfire. Not a happy union.” Grief washed over her face. “Or a happily-ever-after.”
“You’ve subverted your Mage side well. I don’t sense it.”
“Safer for all concerned that way, including me. Until Connor found me. He sensed it, was drawn to it, don’t ask me how. I couldn’t not help him.” She grimaced. “You’d think I’d learn to subvert my dumbass urge to try to nurture people like plants. Which, especially considering who invaded my home—” Her glance sought his, suppressed anger seething beneath the surface. “Always lands me in hot water, ha, ha.”
Delaney coughed again. He held his stern expression, though he was beginning to like the sprite in spite of himself. “You will re-create the incantations and relinquish them to me.”
“I’ll give it my best shot. I need some time, though.”
“I’m short on time. You have twenty-four hours, max. Don’t try to rabbit. I have your energy signature now. There’s nowhere you can hide.”
“Believe me, I’m fully aware of your reach, Enforcer.” Bitterness edged her tone. “Maybe better than anyone.”
Delaney dug into her purse and produced a business card and pen. “Here’s my cell and home number, and I’m writing down the number of a club called Starry Night, run by a trusted friend of both Connor and myself. Archer suffers the same fixer-upper impulse. You helped my brother. If you ever need help—anything, anytime—don’t hesitate to contact either of us.”
“I— Thank you.” Sage’s fingers quivered when she accepted the card. “Delaney, I really am so awfully sorry about Connor. He was a terrific guy.” Moisture pooled in her eyes. “But I’m begging you, do yourself a favor and accept the fact he’s gone, okay? Take it from someone who knows…don’t waste your future trying to undo the past.” She enveloped Delaney in an impulsive hug. “Be careful,” she whispered so quietly anyone other than an Enforcer wouldn’t have heard. “Tangling with a Clan Enforcer, you’re risking a lot more than your heart.”
Delaney returned the hug. “I appreciate the advice.”
As Rowan escorted Delaney back to the car, he slid his palm up her spine and rubbed the taut muscles at the nape of her neck. “Lass, you should heed—”
“Let’s not go there, MacLachlan.”
Her cell phone chimed the song, “I Kissed a Girl,” and she riffled her purse again. “That’s Vanessa’s ringtone. Here, you drive.” She simultaneously pitched him her keys and answered the phone. “Hey, you, what’s up?”
Delaney climbed into the passenger seat, belted in while slanting him a saucy smile. “No need to worry, Van. It went better than expected after we left you in the club. I haven’t smothered him in his sleep yet, which I suppose is a good sign.”
Cranking on the powerful engine, he steered the GTO down the narrow road. He attempted to tune her out, but it was impossible not to listen. He surmised if she wanted privacy, she would’ve called her friend back later.
“My birthday party?” Sobering, Delaney bit her lip. “Uh…I was meaning to talk to you about that. You know I’m not the type who ever blows off my girlfriends for a guy, and we always spend my birthday together. But Rowan and I were thinking about…maybe taking a trip to the coast over the weekend. Trying to work things out. Would it be okay if we celebrated a little early this year, on the twenty-ninth?”
She sighed in relief. “Great, thanks! Yep, the park, as always…even if it rains. Ditto on dessert. No presents—you already bought me the kick-ass boots!” A pause. “Love you, too. Bye.”
She hung up, her second sigh heavy with regret. “I despise lying to her.”
“‘Tis necessary.”
“Yeah. So…” She shook herself. “What would you like to eat when we get home?”
The dashboard clock read nearly four. “It’s been a longer day than anticipated. No need for you to cook, is there? I’ll take a raincheck on the feast. Let’s snag a pizza, or three, to go.”
“Pizza it is. There’s a new place I’ve been wanting to check out, not far from my apartment.”
In the city again, Rowan followed her directions and parked at the curb in front of the pizzeria. As he exited the car, he automatically scanned the re-gentrified urban neighborhood, tall buildings washed golden by the setting sun. He glanced through a picture window into the small restaurant. Halted outside the door. “Mind going in alone? I need to stretch my legs, walk, think a bit.”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
“Here.” He pushed aside his long coat, dipped into his jeans pocket for four twenty dollar bills. “Get a large salad, too, would you?”
“I can pay for—”
“Take the money, sweetheart. I didn’t conjure it up, ‘tis real.”
“Did I in any way imply it wasn’t?” Rolling her eyes, she accepted the bills before shoving through the entrance.
He loitered at the corner of the store where the wall intersected the window. Sunlight glinted into his face, which meant it blinded anyone looking out from indoors. He was obscured, but could clearly view what was happening inside.
Delaney strode up to order, and the counter-guy’s eyes lit up brighter than the neon sign over the door. Late teens, blond, clean-cut, tanned…typical surfer type.
Rowan tautly watched Slick Surfer flirt with Delaney during the seventeen minutes while the pizzas cooked. She was friendly, but didn’t flirt back. The kid sta
cked three steaming cardboard boxes and a plastic container of salad on the counter, then rang up the cash register. When he handed her the change, his fingers lingered several beats too long.
Offer to carry them to the car, Rowan murmured.
Surfer complied. Delaney shook her head.
Insist, lad. Sell that false charm.
Delaney finally nodded in resignation at the lad’s winsome blather, and picked up the salad.
Rowan sauntered down the empty block, the few pedestrians having deserted the area in response to his subliminal suggestion. As the restaurant door opened, he turned into the alley, leaned a shoulder against cool brick.
Frowning, Delaney glanced around before opening the GTO’s passenger door. “Where did—? Just set them on the seat, please.”
Blondie deposited the pizza boxes. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I…my friend will meet me here. Thanks again.” Delaney put the salad in the car, shut the door. She strode down the sidewalk. Rowan, I got the food. You around?
Down the block, luv.
Surfer Dude silently tailed her on sneakered feet.
Aye, you slimy git. You know you want to follow her. Come along, he ordered.
She reached the alley’s mouth. Delaney, he transmitted, moving deep into the shadows. In here.
Frown morphing into a scowl, she marched up to him as he disappeared into vapor. “What the heck—”
Surfer slinked into the alley.
That’s it, wee lamb. Right this way.
Rowan flashed behind him, blocking his escape. Re-materialized.
Delaney’s jaw dropped as Rowan drew down her silver and garnet sword. He tossed the weapon to her. “Gut the wanker.”
Chapter 17
Blade lax in her hand, Delaney stared at Rowan. Her expressive eyes radiated horrified disbelief. “Are you out of your ever-loving—”
“‘Tis a demon.”
Her glance ricocheted from him to the terrified lad cowering against the wall, then back. “He’s just a kid! A nice boy, who carried pizzas to my car.”
