Wicked Magic

by Cheyenne McCray

  Her fingers circled her clit faster and faster. She could picture his features, that look of arrogance that made her want to slap him and fuck him all at the same time. His scarred and rugged face, his deep black eyes, and his well-defined body.

  She came closer and closer to climax as she pictured what the man would do with her. To her.

  With a low cry Rhiannon came, her orgasm fast and furious. Her mind spun and her body rocked against her hand.

  She opened her eyes and slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor, her knees bent, her chest rising and falling with the heaviness of her breathing. She released her nipple and braced her palm on the wooden floor. She slipped her other hand from her panties and brought her fingers to her nose to catch the scent of her musk.

  It was the first time she’d let any man kiss her since she’d caught Derrick with his pants down, getting a blow job in his office from one of his coworkers.

  Rhiannon shook her head as she pushed herself to her feet. She couldn’t believe she’d let Keir kiss her. And now she’d given herself an orgasm while fantasizing about sex with him.

  She was definitely losing it.

  Chapter 7

  From behind the wheel of Jake Macgregor’s black sports car, Rhiannon watched Jake check his homing device as they waited for “Congressman Dentworth” to leave his office for the day. Jake had positioned himself outside the revolving glass doors to the building. Keir, Tiernan, and Sheridan were perched atop the building, waiting for their mark.

  It was a dreary gray day—in other words, a normal day for San Francisco. A light mist coated the car’s windshield and the fog lay low and heavy. Like the others, Rhiannon was dressed all in black.

  Rhiannon was incredibly aware of Keir, no matter that he was so far above her. Heat rose to her cheeks at the thought of the kiss earlier.

  What had Alyssa meant by saying Hannah won the bet? Rhiannon had toasted Keir’s nuts. Why would anyone think she’d let him kiss her? Especially Hannah?

  Why had she let him kiss her?

  Because he’s totally hot and I haven’t had sex in way too long.

  Rhiannon banged her head against the steering wheel and closed her eyes. She had to get the memories of his kiss and his promise of exactly what he planned to do with her out of her mind.

  A promise her body was primed to help him keep.

  With a groan she raised her head, opened her eyes, and forced her attention back to Jake, who was still positioned by the front doors. She fiddled with the earpiece she would use to communicate with him and the other D’Danann.

  Rhiannon reached up and touched her cheek when she felt a twinge of pain from just thinking about the demons.

  “The congressman is moving.” Jake’s voice came through the earpiece loud and clear. “I’m picking him up on the scanner. He’s pretty close.”

  “There he is.” Even though Jake couldn’t see her, Rhiannon gave a quick nod to the man just exiting one of the huge buildings on Market Street. “He’s carrying a black briefcase, wearing a striped black and red tie, and he’s blond.”

  “Got him.” Jake started following the man through the crowd of people leaving work for the day.

  Rhiannon knew Jake had tucked a gun and a sheathed dagger at the back of his jeans. He wore a loose black shirt over his black T-shirt—the shirt also hid the body armor he’d chosen because it was designed to be good in a knife fight. Fomorii claws and knives were close, but Fomorii claws were definitely deadlier.

  Bullets had proven to be almost worthless against the demons, unless they were still in human form. Daggers and swords were the most effective for decapitation and carving out the Fomorii hearts. Otherwise the demons healed almost instantly.

  “What the hell? It looks like he’s taking BART,” Jake said as he began to follow the Fomorii man down the steps to where the Bay Area Rapid Transit trains would take its passengers all over the city and the Bay Area. No telling if the demon was going to where the congressman had lived, or if he was meeting with other Fomorii.

  In San Francisco traffic, it would be impossible to follow the man with a car. When Rhiannon had first dropped Jake off, she had to circle the building several times to find a parking spot. She finally settled for parking illegally in front of a fire hydrant, and had to use her magic against two different policemen to avoid getting a ticket.

  Rhiannon tapped her fingernails on the steering wheel. Bless it. Why is the demon taking BART? As a “congressman” wouldn’t he have a personal driver?

  “He’s getting on the transit headed north,” Jake said, his voice crackling through the receiver. “I’m going after him.”

  “We’ll follow.” Keir’s clipped words came through the communication device and a shiver trailed Rhiannon’s spine. “As soon as he disembarks, we will be ready,” he added.

  Rhiannon decided to sit tight until Jake told them where the demon was going. She hoped it was close. After her little run-in with Keir today, she could use a good battle. Letting loose a few blasts of spellfire would relieve some of the frustration inside her.

  Keir had studied multiple maps of San Francisco, including its transportation routes. He had an excellent memory and knew the location of each BART station in the Bay Area.

  He used his magic to unfurl his wings through his leather tunic. He flexed the muscles in his back as he spread his wings wide before lifting himself from atop the building and into the foggy sky, invisible to human sight.

  On one side of him traveled Tiernan. The warrior had been a lord of the court before he gave everything away for the human witch Copper. Keir was not sure a woman was worth such a price, but he had great respect for Tiernan, who had given up much for what he desired, for the one he loved.

  Love. Keir shook his head at the thought of such nonsense.

  Sheridan flew to his other side. Her wings were as blue as her eyes. The beautiful blond warrior Fae favored the sword. She had the ability to solve disputes with a few calm words—but if someone were to anger her, she could, as the cop Jake would say, “kick some serious ass.”

  Soaring northeast, Keir enjoyed the rush of wind over his body, the moisture from the fog coating his face, the feel of his wings pumping. Blood lust raged through him at the thought of taking down another Fomorii.

  But inevitably his thoughts returned to Rhiannon. She vexed him like no other woman or Fae being ever had. Keir was used to having any unattached female he chose and he always found new partners regularly. He enjoyed his freedom far too much to obsess on one woman.

  This witch, though … He wanted her like he’d never desired a woman before. After he had driven them both crazy with his kiss, she had fled. He’d had to slip into the men’s restroom, where he stroked his cock and visualized taking her hard and fast. He had managed to climax, but afterward he realized that the whole incident only made him want her more. Perhaps once he bedded her, he could get the wench out of his system.

  He would have to do something soon. He was so frustrated that his muscles remained tense and his jaw ached from clenching it so tightly.

  Keir pumped his wings harder. Like other women in his past, Rhiannon, too, appeared to have no interest in a longterm relationship. Why then did she resist him?

  While he and his comrades circled over the piers and back to the Embarcadero BART station, another thought came to Keir. His frown deepened.

  Why was it so important to him to bed this witch? To pull down her emotional barriers? Why did she intrigue him in ways no other woman ever had?

  Because Rhiannon was like no other woman in his past.

  Something about her drew him in, made him want more.

  Absurd. He shook his head and focused on the city as he circled, waiting for Jake’s report.

  Keir’s gut told him Embarcadero was the right place. As former sea gods, the Fomorii would be close to water if it were possible.

  Within minutes Jake’s voice crackled in the earpieces he had given each of them, and confirmed t
he correct location was the Embarcadero station. “He’s on foot, so I’m after him,” Jake said.

  “I have him in sight.” Pleasure at the thought of battling the Fomorii filled Keir as he flew above the blond demon who was working his way through the crowd at the end of the station.

  Unfortunately they had to track rather than kill this one—but the night was young.

  The demon headed away from the station toward a group of buildings. Keir sailed high over the Fomorii. Keir and his comrades were invisible to humans but not magical beings. The demon paused for a moment and looked around as if he thought he was being followed. Fortunately he did not glance up.

  Just as the man started walking again, Keir cast a look over his shoulder. His heart stuttered and then his blood set to boiling. Rhiannon was hurrying to catch up with Jake and they were just outside the demon’s range of vision. The witch had not gone back to the apartments as he expected her to. As a matter of fact, he had demanded it of her before they had left. She had said something about “ripping him a new one” if he did not back off. Whatever the Underworlds that meant.

  The demon continued making his way along a series of streets until he stopped in front of a circular piece of metal in the concrete, what Keir remembered to be a manhole cover.

  After taking a quick look around, one of the demon’s hands and arm began to shift into a malformed long green appendage with claws that were clearly tipped with iron.

  The demon easily hooked his claws in the holes of the manhole cover, raised it, and set it aside. A blast of sewage and the rotten fish stench of the Fomorii flooded Keir’s nose. The demon climbed down the ladder and shifted to its Fomorii form as it moved and pulled the manhole cover over its head.

  Keir, Tiernan, and Sheridan touched down, so quiet their boots made nary a sound. They each folded away their wings, which slipped into their clothing and inside their backs. The trio became visible again to humans as soon as their wings vanished from sight.

  Jake and Rhiannon crested the small hill to the right.

  “You’re not protected well enough.” Jake kept his voice low as he spoke to Rhiannon.

  “My magic is more than enough protection.” She glared at Keir when she and Jake reached the D’Danann. “Don’t you start, either, Keir.”

  A low rumble rose up in his chest.

  Sheridan and Tiernan flashed each other amused glances before turning their attention to the manhole cover.

  “The stench is strong,” Sheridan said as she crouched and used her strength to remove the cover.

  Rhiannon scrunched her nose. “Gross.”

  Since he could not dissuade the witch from joining them, Keir insisted on climbing down first, followed by Tiernan, Sheridan, Rhiannon, and Jake. The cop was determined to watch Rhiannon’s back, which won him more favor in Keir’s eyes.

  The hair on Rhiannon’s scalp prickled when they all stood at the foot of the ladder. Gross, gross, gross, she thought as sewage swished over her boots and the smell clogged her senses.

  The only light came from the open manhole cover. “Damn, it’s dark in here,” Rhiannon said.

  “D’Danann do not require light to see,” Keir said in his arrogant tone and Rhiannon wanted to slug him.

  “Well, humans and witches do.” She held her hands up and with her magic cradled a dancing gold light in her palms.

  “Works for me,” Jake said.

  Keir started walking in the direction of the rotten fish smell.

  The Fomorii stench grew stronger and stronger as they made their way along the tunnel, through the sludge. The curved walls were not made of metal, but of brick, showing the age of this part of San Francisco’s sewage drains. Much of the city’s sewage systems were more than seventy years old, and other parts had been around a hundred years or more.

  They had to crouch as they worked their way down the tunnel, passing an occasional metal drain as they crept along.

  Keir raised one of his hands and brought them all to a full halt. “Extinguish the light, little one.” Keir’s voice in Rhiannon’s mind almost made her yelp in shock.

  Instead she let the small light fade until it was completely dark. For a moment silence reigned and then Rhiannon heard it—grunts, snorts, and growls from somewhere ahead.

  In the darkness, Sheridan found Rhiannon’s fingers and squeezed. “Hold tight, Rhiannon,” Sheridan said. “Take Jake’s hand in yours.”

  Rhiannon fumbled behind her until her palm rested on Jake’s chest. He took her hand, just as Sheridan started guiding them forward.

  “Stop,” Keir said in Rhiannon’s mind. She felt like tilting her head to the side and smacking her ear to get rid of his voice. “I will scout ahead to determine the number of Fomorii and if Ceithlenn is there. The human transmitters may be too loud to use. Tell Jake what I am going to do, as I cannot mind-speak with someone who is not magically inclined.”

  After allowing Keir’s words to take a moment to register, Rhiannon whispered the message to Jake, who gripped her hand tighter in response.

  Rhiannon focused on her powers, letting the gray magic build inside her. But she kept the Shadows buried deep.

  Keir’s heart thundered with blood lust as he left the others behind. He crept forward until he reached a fairly large chamber where several sewage drains came together to flood into one larger tunnel. There was enough space for them to take on the demons here if they had to.

  In the darkness he could clearly see at least ten Fomorii in their deformed shapes and varied colors.

  No flame-haired goddess. He had witnessed Ceithlenn’s transformation in the battle at the gate to Underworld, a sight he would never forget.

  He relayed his observations through mind-speak to his comrades. “Damnation,” he added when he saw what slid in from another tunnel. “They have a Basilisk.”

  The only thing more deadly to Fae than iron was a Basilisk’s poison.

  Keir stilled his breathing as the Basilisk raised its head, flicked its tongue, and scented the air.

  Garbled noises came from the Fomorii, but from the way they were looking at all the tunnels, Keir had a good idea what the beasts were saying.

  He kept himself pressed against the brick wall of the sewage tunnel as one of the Fomorii looked his way. “It appears we are in for a fight,” he told his comrades in mind-speak. To Rhiannon he said, “Stay clear. It will be dangerous.”

  He thought he heard her respond, “Bite me,” and he would have smiled if the situation were not so dire. As it was he wanted to protect her, to keep her from harm.

  By the gods! This obsession was going to kill them all if he did not get his mind on the pressing matter at hand.

  The Fomorii and Basilisk turned to face Keir and his comrades. The heat that always came before battle flooded his body and his energy doubled. Tripled.

  “On my command,” he said in mind-speak. The eyes of the Fomorii glistened as they moved closer. “Now!”

  Tiernan was at his side in an instant. As one they drew their swords and charged the demons, giving the D’Danann battle cry.

  Keir cut his sword in an arc and decapitated the first Fomorii he reached. The demon crumbled into dust to be swept out with the sewage. A bright ball of light appeared above them, illuminating the chamber. Rhiannon.

  The light distracted the next Fomorii and Keir easily took its head with his sword. While he battled, he was aware of Sheridan and Tiernan fighting beside him.

  Shouts and cries filled the large chamber to the point Rhiannon’s ears rang. Her heart pounded as she flung a spellfire ball straight into the chest of a demon next to Keir.

  The moment Rhiannon threw the spell, the Shadows threatened to burst from her. She caught her breath and nearly screamed from the power trying to push its way forward. She could barely focus on the fight for a moment, as she struggled to keep the Shadows tight inside her. With all the effort she could muster, she slammed the Shadows back. She wavered for just a second, then regained her concentration on
the battle. Why now? Why would they come forth when she’d always kept them locked away? Controlled?

  Rhiannon saw that Keir was too close to swing his sword at the burning, screaming Fomorii that her spellfire ball had hit. Instead, he lunged with his dagger and carved out the demon’s heart.

  The Fomorii dropped. As it became silt the demon’s remains were swept away with the sewage.

  The Basilisk raised high above the fray and hissed. Green poison gleamed from its fangs. It darted its head toward Keir.

  Rhiannon’s heart raced even faster. Keir raised his sword.

  Too slow!

  Gunshots reverberated in the chamber from Jake’s handgun. Blood squirted from both of the Basilisk’s eyes. It reared with a scream, tossing its head back before diving blindly forward.

  Rhiannon followed the shots with a fireball that slammed into the Basilisk’s nostrils, causing it to shriek again.

  As Keir raised his sword to behead the Basilisk, another demon charged him. The Fomorii lashed out with its massive claws, but Keir backed into the wall, dodging the strike.

  He grasped the hilt with both hands and swung. The demon skillfully avoided the blade and charged.

  Keir tried again to swing his sword at the Fomorii’s neck, but the beast rammed him against the wall. Pain burst through Keir’s head as it struck brick, but he ignored it as he raised one booted foot and shoved the demon away—but not before the beast raked its claws across his neck.

  The pain ripping through Keir was enough to infuriate him even further. He sliced his sword toward the demon, but missed the beast’s neck. His blade bounced off the demon’s thick hide.

  Again the beast shoved Keir up against the wall, only this time with its terrible jaws open, jagged teeth prepared to rip flesh from Keir’s neck.

  Keir was ready for it. He drew his dagger again, and in a lightning fast motion he sliced it deep into the roof of the demon’s open mouth.

  The Fomorii staggered, black blood pouring from its mouth. The beast had fallen far enough back that it was in sword range. Before it had the opportunity to recover, Keir beheaded the demon with one clean sweep of his blade.