Sword of the Raven

by Diana Duncan

  Delaney gathered her Mage into a tender embrace. “Wake up, Rowan.” Murmuring waves lapped around him in concern as she caressed his face. “Wake up, now.” She gave him a little shake. “You’re going to be okay. You’re strong, stronger than anyone I know. You can fight your way back to me. If anyone can do it, you can.”

  She encouraged, begged, threatened, all the while wan daylight slowly crept across the clouded sky.

  As the longest hours of her life painfully crawled past, she kept talking, though her throat went raw, her voice hoarse and cracked. She rocked him. Sang his grandmother’s lullaby. Kept singing.

  While she talked, while she sang…she waited for Rowan’s chest to move with a breath, watched for his throat to throb with a heartbeat.

  The sky eventually darkened. Orange streaks smeared the horizon, then bloodied to crimson. The sun’s edge dipped into the water, staining it red.

  Archer’s footsteps crunched across the sand. He squatted beside her, and she hugged Rowan tighter.

  “Delaney.” Gentle sorrow vibrated in his voice. “It’s time.”

  She shook her head.

  “Honey, you have to let him go.”

  She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Delaney bent, rested her cheek on Rowan’s. His skin felt too cool against her tear-damp cheek.

  Anguish choked her.

  But she had to.

  She closed her eyes. Words rose from deep within her, resonating with the Power and courage of generations of Clan MacLachlan. Strength Rowan had bequeathed her.

  Her face pressed to his, she haltingly whispered the ancient Gaelic blessing to send her Mage on his way in peace and love. She drew back for a final lingering look at his beloved face. Kissed his forehead one last time.

  Then she opened her arms.

  Waves lapped delicately around him. The ocean lifted him in its breast, reverently carried him out to sea.

  When nothing more than his faint shadow floated on the horizon, his body sank into the water alongside the dying sun.

  Darkness descended.

  * * *

  Floating in oblivion, Delaney fought regaining consciousness. She’d had a horrifying nightmare.

  Just another nightmare.

  The smell of percolating coffee assaulted her nostrils, reluctantly tugged her closer to the surface. She’d open her eyes and see Rowan bringing in her first morning cup. He’d snuggle beside her in the antique bed, steal a kiss, then tease her about her vivid imagination. He’d wish her happy birthday. They’d make love.

  Until she woke up, yesterday hadn’t really happened.

  She clamped her eyelids tighter, tried to will herself back into blankness.

  But denial could only take her so far. The mellow java fragrance wasn’t Rowan’s nuclear brew. The bootsteps in the cabin’s kitchen weren’t his near-silent glide. The soap-scented steam drifting down the hallway from a recent shower wasn’t his breezy ocean scent.

  No matter how hard she wished otherwise, she had to face this day. And the next. Face all the days that followed.

  Without him.

  Delaney forced her eyes open. Rain streamed down the windows, the elements weeping for their fallen warrior.

  Laying in the bed alone, where she’d once lain with Rowan, was beyond endurance. Like ripping off a bandage, she flung back the covers. She shuffled down the hallway, everything she saw slamming her with memories of her Mage. The big claw-footed bathtub. The braided entry rug. The kitchen table.

  She dropped into a chair at the table.

  Archer turned from the stove, where he was sliding a tray of biscuits into the oven. “You’re up. How are you doing?”

  She shrugged.

  “Want a coffee?”

  She shook her head.

  “I know, Delaney.” He strode over to stand behind her. “I’ve walked in your shoes. Brutally losing someone you care about shreds your guts.” He stroked her hair. “Believe it or not, the pain eases. Never goes away; but it grows bearable. Sorta. Eventually.”

  Maybe if she lived another couple centuries. “Is…” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Do we have cell service?”

  “Did when I called Rini a while ago. She took a nasty hit yesterday, but she’s recovering. Why?”

  “I have to check on Zack. Graves attacked him.”

  Archer’s fingers massaged her aching shoulders. “I got a call from a pissed-off Cabal official this morning. Seems their cleanup crew had a hellacious job sanitizing the hospital stairwell. Took ‘em a couple hours to bust the spell you cast to lock the doors and cloak Graves’ body. They weren’t thrilled.” He squeezed gently. “Zack’s gonna be fine, though.”

  “Cleanup crew? How did the Cabal know?”

  “Those freaks have eyes everywhere. Besides, a big-assed Power boom draws attention. The mortal world believes an unknown assailant attacked Zack on his way to visit Connor. He doesn’t remember anything, can’t ID him. The cops have zip. No evidence, no DNA.”

  No blood. She stared down at her hands. The reality of killing her stepfather would hit later. At the moment, she felt mercifully numb. “You knew about Graves? About me, when you ‘adopted’ me and Connor?”

  “Yeah. The Creator’s number one commanding officer personally charged me to watch over you. Apparently, you’re vital to the big picture.”

  “So guarding me was your job.”

  “At first.” His thumb rubbed the nape of her neck. “Then it got way more personal. You’re very important to me, too. I love you and Connor like my own flesh and blood.”

  “What am I, Archer?”

  “I’m not privy to that intel, baby girl. But right now, you’re packing stronger juice than any Supe I’ve seen roaming this earth. Hot damn, you whacked Stanton Graves. Ceard couldn’t even take him out, it’s why they joined forces. Blows my mind.”

  “What good are superpowers if I wasn’t able to save Ro— Rowan…?” Saying his name wrenched her insides. “What does the Man in Charge want from me? Why me?”

  “I expect we’ll find out in due time.”

  She dropped her weary head onto her folded arms. If she’d chosen to ignore the raven, she’d be celebrating her birthday with Van right now. Blissfully ignorant.

  And Rowan would still be alive.

  She blinked away scalding tears. Stay numb. “You said Rini was hurt? What about everyone else, how did the battle go?”

  “We lost the wolf and the bear, and one of the cougars.” Archer cleared the gravel from his voice. “Came too damned close to losing the entire squad. But after MacLachlan wiped out Ceard and Zinter, the fight deflated outta the demon platoons. We cut them down faster than a bulldozer rolling through a field of daisies.” He kissed the top of her head. “Rowan was a brave soldier and a fucking awesome Enforcer. He didn’t die for nothing.”

  Her heart twisted. No, Ceard had tortured him and then spitted him on his own sword because Delaney had repossessed her Power while he was fighting for his life.

  Because she now shared all Rowan’s memories as well as his Power, she’d felt every cruel abuse Ceard had inflicted on him. Experienced his family’s murders as vividly as if she’d been there. How could she condemn him for stealing her Power and sacrificing himself to kill Ceard? Had Delaney been in Rowan’s place, she would’ve done the same.

  She shoved to her feet. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “Could stand some fresh air myself. I’ll go with.”

  “I need to be alone.” Delaney stumbled toward the door.

  “At least take a coat,” Archer called. “And shoes.”

  She stopped. Glanced down at her pajama-clad body and bare feet. Oh. Archer must have changed her into pajamas. She shrugged into a random jacket from the coat rack, stuffed her feet into a pair of hiking boots sitting beneath it.

  Outside, icy sheets of rain slapped her face as she trudged to the beach. Gunmetal clouds snarled overhead and violent waves battered the rocky shoreline. Fog roiled above the water, the mist
as cold and thick as her grief. The ocean had always been her refuge. Now she’d never again look at the shifting waves, smell the salty tang without recalling the Mage she loved.

  “I know,” she whispered to the furious sea. “I miss him, too.”

  Shoving chilled, trembling hands in her pockets, she plodded through wet sand against the driving rain, following hissing breakers along the long, barren strand. One painful step after another.

  Would never knowing him have been better than this unending heartache?

  No.

  Even the brief joy they’d found together was worth any pain.

  Frozen, exhausted, she glanced up, saw the lighthouse spearing into the stormy sky. A raven paced on the widow’s walk above.

  Her raven.

  A big, still form had washed up on the beach near the lighthouse. Delaney’s breath caught. Was it…?

  She broke into a jog. Not daring to hope, but hoping in spite of herself, she ran toward it. Skidded to a stop.

  Driftwood.

  Only a driftwood log, bent limbs mired in dark seaweed, hurled ashore by the tide.

  She sank to her knees. “It’s not fair,” she screamed as sorrow burst free. “I waited for him all my life, and you took him!”

  All alone with the water slapping the sand, she cried. Raged. Sobbed until she was spent.

  Finally, a gentle tug at her hair jerked her upright. The raven stood there. Sympathy glinted in its ebony gaze.

  Delaney wiped her eyes. “I know. You warned me.”

  The raven cocked its head. Fluttered its wings.

  “What?” Delaney frowned at the bird.

  It hopped several yards, looked back at her.

  “All right. What’s left to lose?” She got up and followed.

  It led her to the sheltered cove where Rowan had been healed after the gryphon-like beast attacked him. To the remains of her beach fire.

  Delaney spread her hands. “I don’t understand.”

  The raven jumped onto a burned log. Pecked.

  “Leftovers from my fire. So?”

  Delaney could’ve sworn she saw exasperation on its face. Sooty feathers flapped, stirred up sodden ashes.

  “Burnt wood and ashes. I repeat, so?”

  The raven nodded.

  “What are you try—” Delaney swallowed hard. “Oh. My. God. How slow could I be?”

  Delaney pivoted and raced for the cabin.

  She exploded through the front door. “Did the team travel to the battle in your chopper?”

  Archer jumped and the mug he was washing shattered in the sink. “Shit! Uh, yeah. Why?”

  “Good! Light it up!” She dashed down the hallway, flinging off soaked pajamas and kicking off the boots. Running into the bedroom, she tugged on jeans and her fisherman’s knit sweater, crammed her feet into socks, then returned for the boots.

  She ran back into the kitchen, where Archer waited, hands on hips. “Delaney, what the hell?”

  “Take me to Connor. Now!” When he just frowned, she shoved him toward the door. “Move!”

  He grabbed her arm. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but—”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing. Rowan broke the law by giving me his Powers, same as Connor. He’s trapped in the Abyss, same as Connor. I’m going after him.”

  Archer scowled. “Baby, it won’t work. You found your way into the Abyss the first time only on a fluke. Only because you had a connection to Connor, who isn’t dead.”

  “How’d you hear about that?” She shook loose his hold and sprinted to the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Rowan told me when he informed me he’d taken your Powers…supposedly along with your memories of him. He warned me to watch for weak spots in your aura.”

  “I’m fine. Let’s go, dammit!”

  “It didn’t work before. You couldn’t bring back Connor.” He stalked after her onto the porch. “The Abyss is frickin immense. It overlaps thousands of time portals. Even if you could get in again, there’s no guarantee you’ll end up in the same era, or be able to find—”

  “We’re linked. I can find Rowan. I will find him.”

  “Delaney.” Archer caught her arm again. “Rowan is dead. There’s no connection left for you to follow. Heaven only knows where you’d end up. As your Guardian, I can’t let you do this.”

  She blasted him with a jolt of Power that sent him flying into the grass. “Try and stop me.”

  * * *

  Delaney paused in front of the glass panel leading into Connor’s room to compose herself. Archer was in the waiting room, fuming. He’d flown her to his private helipad on the rooftop of Starry Night, then driven her to the hospital in his Jeep, arguing the entire trip. He’d conceded only because he believed she wouldn’t succeed…but knew she’d try anyway, whether he brought her or she came on her own.

  She fought to batten down the emotional typhoon threatening to swamp her. She refused to bring negativity into Connor’s room.

  Especially considering the perilous journey she was about to undertake.

  She breathed deeply, grounding herself the way Rowan had shown her. She arrowed up a prayer. Then slid the door open and walked inside.

  Delaney dragged a chair to the bedside. “Well, here we are again, big brother.” She sat and clasped Connor’s hand. “The man I love more than life itself is in the Abyss. I want you to bring me there, like before.”

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated every sense, focused her now formidable Powers on seeking Rowan’s essence.

  * * *

  Delaney opened her eyes. Damn, her head hurt. She rubbed her tender temples.

  She looked up…saw the clock on the wall. Over three hours—and she’d gotten nowhere. She studied her brother’s expressionless face. Watched his chest lift, then drop as the chugging ventilator pumped oxygen into his lungs.

  Maybe Archer was right. Maybe she couldn’t locate Rowan through Connor. Muscles stiff and sore, emotions scraped raw, she rose and paced the claustrophobic space.

  There had to be a way.

  She staggered into the waiting room, avoiding the empathy in Archer’s umber gaze. “I need to borrow your Jeep.”

  “You’re not driving anywhere.” He rose, stretched his massive body. “I’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”

  “All right. But I don’t want, or need, any commentary.”

  On the way out of the city, Archer hit a drive-through for sub sandwiches, and Delaney ate only for the same reason she hadn’t zapped Archer on his ass and stolen his Jeep. She needed energy. Even with extra Powers on board, she was drained after the past three hours of attempting contact with Rowan.

  She gave Archer directions to Sage’s cabin. Jaw set, he ate and drove in silence.

  He parked in the dirt lane. “Whose place is this?”

  “Just wait for me in the car.” She got out and started up the path. Weird. She couldn’t even feel the wards anymore.

  “Dammit, Delaney!” Archer caught her and spun her around. “Talk to me. How long do you think you can keep this up?”

  “Until I find him!” she shouted. “Or until I friggin’ die myself, okay? Does that tell you what you need to know?”

  “Afraid so.” He slowly nodded. “This wouldn’t be Sage O’Farrell’s cabin?”

  “How did you— You know Sage?”

  “Not exactly. But I know she’s not here.”

  “What do you mean?” She ran toward the cabin and burst through the door. Her disbelieving stare swept the dark, cold room. “Where is she?”

  “The Druid is gone.”

  “Gone?” She rounded on Archer. “Where?”

  “Come with me.” He held out his hand.

  “I’m not going home.”

  Sadness tinged his smile. “Yeah, I got that.” He walked into the kitchen, opened cupboards until he located one filled with dried herbs. Carrying several packets, he stalked out the doorway.

  Curiosity drove her to follow him into the wo
ods.

  She had to jog to keep up with his rapid strides through the thick forest, finally stopping beside him in a secluded clearing bearing the faint outline of a circle worn into the grass.

  Chanting a lovely mystical language she didn’t recognize, he walked the circle’s perimeter, sprinkling herbs and salt. He stepped into the center and again held out his hand.

  This time, she took it.

  The instant she stepped into the circle with him, a twelve-foot wall of blue flames shot up, crackling around them. The intense heat that should’ve fried them both didn’t cause any discomfort. “Archer? What are we doing?”

  “Having a—mostly—private conversation.” He wrapped a brawny arm around her shoulders and spoke quietly into her ear. “Sage came to me the night before the battle and asked for safe passage out of the territory. That’s what I do, what the club is a cover for. It’s built over the Shanghai tunnels for a reason. There’s an energy node there. I transport Supernaturals out of the city through them…off the radar.”

  “You’re running a Supernatural underground railroad?” She pulled back a few inches to look at him. “Why haven’t you ever asked me to help? I would’ve.”

  “That burden isn’t yours. You’ve got enough to handle.”

  She was forced to agree. “Off whose radar?”

  “Everyone’s. But especially the Cabal’s. They’re not all good guys, Delaney. Imagine a combo of the Senate and CIA, with unlimited wealth, weapons, power…and universe-wide reach. And zero accountability.”

  She shivered in spite of the fire. “Sage was afraid of Rowan? He’s not Dark.”

  “No. But his presence is sanctioned by the Cabal, and they issue his orders. Sage needs to avoid all Cabal and Enforcer notice.”

  “So you got her out. But you can put me in contact with her, right? I won’t endanger her.”

  He sighed. “Once I send a refugee to the next safe house, I don’t know where they end up. Better for all concerned.”

  “I have to talk to her! She’s studied the Abyss, knows the spells. She has the info I need!”