Sword of the Raven

by Diana Duncan

  She arched a brow. “An all-powerful Sorcerer…really? A gun boosted from an unconscious human is the best you can do?”

  “The detective will appear to be the victim of a random mugging. A pity, as no one but MacLachlan has to die today.”

  Everything within her rebelled at the humiliation of being marched into the enemy camp at gunpoint. A pawn, used to manipulate her teammates…and hamstring Rowan. Fulfill her Mage’s weak link expectation.

  She wouldn’t be anybody’s pawn. Refused to be the weak link.

  Delaney could no longer sense the connection that had bound her to Rowan. Had no awareness of his thoughts or presence. No lingering vestiges of her missing Powers. But that didn’t mean every trace was permanently gone. Rowan had taught her to look past what she could see, to think beyond perceived reality.

  Her blood was a part of him, his a part of her. And they shared a deep, intense bond.

  She reached out with her senses, groping blindly. Found a whispery vapor of mist. Her essence followed the nebulous trail, slowly at first. Then stronger, faster, picking up speed…until her essence collided headlong with Rowan’s.

  He was fighting like a whirlwind, sword strokes an icy flash as he beheaded dozens of demons. Using her Powers to ramp up his own.

  She felt his shock and surprise when she grasped onto her Power. Ha, found you! she gloated. Underestimated me, didn’t you?

  She ripped her Powers away from him.

  He swayed. Stumbled. To her horror, she saw him falter and sink to his knees. Saw a fresh horde of demons attack, overrun him. Her blood froze in her veins. Rowan! I’m sorry! I didn’t know—

  He flung up his shields and shut her out.

  Trembling violently, she blinked, refocused on Graves. She had to get to Rowan! She was furious with him, but didn’t want him to die!

  She called her sword, and the gleaming garnet hilt slid cold and hard into her palm. “Time to demonstrate my full potential. Put down the gun and face me like a Sorcerer.”

  “So we won’t need Ceard after all.” Sardonic amusement stamped Stanton’s aristocratic features as he tucked the pistol into his suit jacket. He produced a long, wicked blade, rapier thin steel jutting from an ornate gilded guard. Smirking, he whipped the tip in a figure eight. “Shall we play?”

  She didn’t have time for games. Rowan would soon be in Ceard’s ruthless hands. Hands that had torn out his father’s beating heart.

  Slippery fingers of fear and doubt crawled up her spine. Her trembling arms threatened to go numb and drop the sword. Rowan, what have I done to you?

  She shook off the numbness. If she surrendered to panic, he could die.

  Don’t think about Rowan. Use what he taught you. Delaney attacked, giving no quarter.

  She swung, Graves parried. Sparks erupted as steel clashed with steel. He outmatched her in experience and skill, but she was faster…and fueled by desperate resolve.

  The small landing left no room for error, complicated by having to leap back and forth over Zack’s inert form. Stanton blocked her next strike, drove her into the corner. Although he couldn’t hurt her, every wasted minute might cost Rowan his life.

  She danced aside, thrust beneath his blade like she had with the demon. He was ready for it, blocked her again. As his blade scraped up hers and whipped free, her pulse pounded in her ears, thundering with the ancient song of battle.

  Graves’ sword whistled past her face, and she reared back, dodging it. She tripped over Zack’s leg, went sprawling.

  Graves grinned. “Point to me, I believe.”

  Precious time was ticking away with every heartbeat, and with it, Rowan’s lifeblood.

  Shoulders drooping, feigning fatigue and intimidation, she slowly pushed to her feet. “You’re good.”

  “Done in already? How disappointing. I expected a better challenge.” Graves preened before executing an elaborate pivot.

  She charged his unprotected left side, swinging hard and fast. A slash opened in his suit coat over his ribs, oozing a slight swell of blood.

  Her stepfather tossed back his head and laughed at her. “Touché, little girl.” He saluted her with his sword. “You might just fulfill your destiny after all.”

  The arrogant bastard was still laughing when she rammed her blade through his heart.

  Delaney yanked out the dripping sword. She separated Graves’ head from his neck before his body hit the floor. “Rule One, asshole.”

  The stairwell doors unlocked.

  She sheathed her weapon, snatched the pistol from inside Graves’ suit and stuck it in her jacket pocket. Leaning over Zack, she tugged his backup piece from his ankle holster, shoved it into her other pocket. She grasped him beneath the arms, then dragged him into the main corridor. “Help,” she yelled at a group of medical personnel. “My friend’s been mugged!”

  In the ensuing pandemonium, she slipped back into the stairwell. Apparently, Sorcerers didn’t incinerate like demons. Nothing she could do about Graves’ remains, but that wasn’t her biggest worry at the moment.

  Delaney used Power to toss out a concealment spell, lock the doors behind her and enhance her physical strength while she sprinted to the top floor. She had the hospital switchboard on speed-dial to keep tabs on Connor. She hit the button as she ran. “This is Doctor Adams.” Giving the name of Connor’s neurosurgeon, she spiked a Power compulsion into her demand. “I need the Life-Flight team on the helipad, stat.”

  She beat the trauma unit to the rooftop, paced behind the chopper while endless excruciating minutes ground past. How badly had she hurt Rowan? She’d had no idea repossessing her Power would drain his strength.

  She tried to feel him. Sense him. Rowan, can you hear me?

  Nothing.

  She paced faster. Where was the damned medevac unit?

  Finally, two men and two women burst through the doorway.

  Delaney strode around the chopper, yanking out both guns. She aimed them at the stunned group. “Which one of you is the pilot?”

  A freckle-faced, redheaded guy stepped forward, chin angled in false bravado. “I am.”

  “Hop in, fire it up.” She waved the pistol in her right hand at the team. “The rest of you, over by the wall, face down on the pavement.”

  The engine roared. Rotors clacked overhead, blowing her hair around her. “Don’t move,” she yelled over the noise. “Don’t call for help if you want to see your friend again.” You won’t remember me, she broadcasted at them. Mage mind games might not work for her, but it was worth a shot.

  She stuck the backup piece in her jacket pocket, then clambered into the helo. Keeping the other gun and both eyes trained on the pilot, she awkwardly fastened her seatbelt and donned mic’d headphones.

  “L-look, Ma’am,” he stammered. “I—”

  “Shut it, Flyboy. You know where Cape Hope is?”

  He gulped. “Yeah.”

  “Get me there. Fast.”

  “Uh…I have to request airspace clearance.”

  “Do it. Lives are at risk, and not just your own.”

  “Ten-four.” He fumbled with the controls, spoke to the control tower. Clearance took another lifetime.

  At last, the chopper soared skyward. Delaney didn’t give a damn if it could cause a headache, she used Power to force the machine to fly faster. But no pain manifested. Maybe because the pilot didn’t know she was using Magic?

  The tense flight still took over thirty minutes.

  She ordered the pilot to circle the coastline until she spotted Zinter’s house. The battle raged below, a writhing swarm of demons and glinting blades.

  The pilot blinked. Shook his head. “Lord Almighty!”

  She threw another burst of Power at him. “You’re looking at a…ah…twenty car pileup on the coast highway.” She saw Rini and Natiri double-flanking the snarling beast that had nearly killed Rowan. Delaney pointed at the monster. No guts…no glory. “See that big…hill down there? Land on top of it. Hard.”

&nbs
p; “I’ll do my best.”

  The two-ton whirlybird dropped onto the beast with a sickening crunch. Delaney stared into the pilot’s dazed eyes. “Take off. When you get back to the hospital, you won’t remember where you’ve been or what you’ve seen.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She leapt out of the chopper, and it whisked upward.

  Rini nodded at her, then calmly slit the throat of an advancing demon.

  Natiri whooped and gestured at the crushed monster. “Nice entrance. Welcome to the party.”

  “I’m just getting started.” Delaney’s frantic glance swept the gory, shouting melee. “Where’s Rowan?”

  Natiri’s glaive whistled through the air and disemboweled, then beheaded another demon. “Haven’t seen him since the fun started.”

  A barely discernable connection between Delaney and Rowan flickered open, and dread crawled all over her. She knew exactly where to find him. “I need you both to follow me.”

  With the coolly lethal Elf and the ferocious Faerie at her back, Delaney pulled out Zack’s pistols. Firing with both hands, she ran toward Zinter’s kitchen door, shooting every demon in her path. Bullets might or might not kill the suckers, but the ammo sure as hell mowed ‘em down.

  Power detonated inside her, and her booted foot kicked in the steel door. Flinging aside the empty guns, she commanded her sword, rushed the hallway. Delaney kicked in the door to the basement.

  She froze on the top stair.

  The immense room boiled with chanting demons. At the far end, Rowan lay naked, wrists and ankles chained to the rock altar. His eyes were closed, his skin bruised and slashed everywhere, his limbs broken at horrifying angles. Blood trickled from the hundreds of cuts. More blood trailed from his mouth, down his chin to his neck. Lit black candles danced obscenely around him. Ceard and Zinter loomed over him, immersed in chanting. His own sword of ice pierced his abdomen, pinning him to the stone.

  Her breath jammed in her lungs. Her heart stopped. Dear God.

  She was too late.

  “No,” she whispered through numb lips.

  Though he couldn’t have possibly heard the faint exclamation, Rowan’s head slowly turned toward her. His eyes opened. The grief and regret on his face vanquished all doubts.

  Been waiting…for you. His silent message was weak and thready. Felt when…you…impossibly regained Power. Knew then…you’d come.

  Hang on. Hang on, Rowan. I’ll get you out of here.

  His gaze flicked toward the long wall of caged, terrified prisoners. Them first.

  Delaney glanced over her shoulder at Rini and Natiri. “Help me clear a path, then get the hostages out.”

  She charged down the stairway, yelling to break the Sorceress’ concentration, desperate to interrupt the ritual that was draining what remained of Rowan’s lifeforce. “Ceard!”

  Both women started, raised their heads to stare at her.

  “You.” Delaney pointed her sword at the woman she despised. “You will pay for every bruise. Every cut. Every ounce of pain you’ve caused him.”

  Scarlet flushed Ceard’s pale cheeks and she shrieked, “You’re not powerful enough to stop me.”

  “Hide and watch me, bitch.”

  A faint smile ghosted across Rowan’s lips, even as the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth flowed thicker.

  Delaney shoved aside the fear and horror that threatened to gut her as she cut a swath toward him through the demons. Watching from the corner of her eye, she saw Rini and Natiri fight to the cages. The Elf and Faerie sprang the locks, slaughtering demons who tried to prevent them from herding the prisoners upstairs to freedom.

  Natiri paused at the upper door, arched her brow.

  “Go!” Delaney shouted.

  Delaney had almost reached the altar when Ceard flicked her fingernails. A stinging blast flung Delaney backward. Rowan’s protection spell was weakening as he did. Ceard couldn’t kill her…yet…but she could make it hurt.

  Gathering her Power around her like a cloak, Delaney scrambled upright and charged again. She almost made it.

  A big horned demon leapt into her path, aiming a javelin. Grinning, he recoiled a muscular arm.

  “Halt!” Ceard ordered. “She’s mine. Retrieve the prisoners!”

  The demon scurried away.

  Delaney stepped to Rowan’s side. Raised her blade to Ceard. “What, you’re not going to have your flunkies do your dirty work for a change?”

  “You’re my kill.” Ceard snarled. “My hands will rip the life from you.”

  “Nay, Ceard,” Rowan whispered. “Delaney is mine. And she shall be the one…who finally sends Balor to hell.”

  His fingers sought Delaney’s free hand, clung. Delaney felt him gather her essence, using it to rally his own. Felt his Power ripple out. The steel door blocking the tunnel melted.

  Then he called the sea.

  A tsunami roared up through the tunnel, crashed through the windows and open door, flooding the room with cold salt water. Ceard and Zinter and the remaining demons screamed, floundered, tried desperately to flee. But every time they got close to escape, vicious waves slapped them back, dragged them under.

  Rowan squeezed her hand, so weak she barely sensed the pressure. Find...my cousins. Carry on…fight.

  You can do it yourself. Floodwaters swirled around her neck, but she wasn’t afraid. She trusted him. You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. You’re drown-proof.

  No…longer. Everything I have…everything I am…is yours.

  He speared all his Powers into her. Raw, liquid energy detonated inside her, jolted her with atomic energy that knocked her beneath the breakers.

  Delaney lost her grip on Rowan. She coughed, choked—then found herself breathing water as comfortably as air. She clawed to her feet and bent over him, everything and everyone completely submerged. The sea lashed at the ceiling as his Powers roiled through her cells, infusing her with superhuman strength.

  She struggled in vain to force the waves to recede. Rowan! Stop it! Gripping his shoulders, she frantically tried to force his Power back into him, but he’d reserved just enough strength to hold his incantation.

  I can get you out of here, Rowan. I can heal you!

  Not…this time. Pierced by my own sword. But Ceard…is defeated. Hunt Balor. Finish…it.

  Don’t do this! Don't die because of the woman who didn’t love you! Slowed by the surrounding water, she stroked his cheek. Please! Live for the woman who does.

  Beautiful silver eyes caught, held her in their embrace. Brimming with sorrow…and undeniable devotion. His smile did what Ceard could not. Ripped out her heart.

  ‘Tis…all right, my beloved. I’ve never feared…the water.

  No! Rowan! No!

  Helpless, shaking, screaming inside, she could do nothing.

  Except watch him drown.

  Chapter 20

  The sea began to recede the instant Rowan died. But not quick enough. Hurry! Delaney demanded to the waves. Clear his face!

  Urging the waterline to go lower, faster, Delaney watched in shock as huge black tentacles snaked in through the tunnel, wrapped around Ceard’s body and snatched it away.

  Delaney swam upward, braced her feet on the altar and carefully tugged Rowan’s sword out of his abdomen. It immediately vanished, so she used her own to slash through the chains binding his wrists and ankles.

  Please! Hurry!

  The moment the waves dipped below Rowan’s face, Delaney’s new Powers instinctively drew the water from his lungs before she started CPR. She desperately shoved Power into him along with every push, every breath.

  She pressed shaking fingertips to his neck, seeking a pulse. Nothing. Her own pulse stuttered. “Rowan, come back!”

  Delaney gave him more breaths, more compressions. Blasted every spark of energy she could summon into him.

  “I am not giving up on you.” She worked doggedly while perspiration sheened her skin, while her limbs turned to jelly and he
r own rasping breaths grated in her chest like shards of glass. She’d drop before she quit. “Breathe, damn you! Do you hear me, you stupid, stubborn Mage?”

  The upper door crashed open. She just kept working as heavy bootsteps thundered down the stairway.

  Archer’s stunned face appeared in her line of vision. “What happened?”

  “Ceard…speared him…with his own sword.” Breaths, compressions. Power. “He…gave me all his Powers.” Breaths, compressions. Power. “He drowned Ceard. Then he…drowned.”

  Archer swore, felt for Rowan’s pulse. “How long have you been at this?”

  “Don’t care.”

  “Delaney,” he said quietly. Too quietly. “His essence isn’t here.”

  “No!” Breaths, compressions. Power. “We’ll both…heal him! Guardians can…heal, too.”

  “Not if he was mortally wounded by his own weapon. Nobody can.”

  “Won’t. Quit. On. Him.” Breaths, compressions. Another Power push, weaker with every moment, as she weakened.

  “You’re hurting yourself now. He wouldn’t want that.” Archer grabbed her, swung her down. “Delaney, he’s gone.”

  She fought viciously. “Turn me loose!”

  “I’m sorry.” Unyielding bands of steel wrapped around her trembling, thrashing body. “Goddamn, I’m so sorry.”

  Delaney forced herself to calm. Saw Zinter’s body, and those of the demons smashed on the floor like storm-tossed driftwood. “We have to take him to the sea! By the lighthouse, on sacred ground. The sea will cure him, like before.”

  “Delaney—”

  “Don’t. Just shut the hell up and help him.”

  She could hardly bear to watch as Archer lifted Rowan’s broken body in his massive arms and jogged upstairs. Sobbing, praying, she stumbled along behind.

  When they reached the lighthouse, she stepped into the ocean, which warmed at her touch. She dropped into the waves. Archer placed Rowan’s body across her lap, then retreated up the beach.