He rubbed his free hand over his face. Godsdamn.
“For now you must return to the San Francisco Otherworld where you are needed,” the Great Guardian said.
Rhiannon straightened. “Has something happened?”
“Step on the transference stone.” She gestured toward the round, flat platform with the runes etched on it. “I will send you back, now.”
He and Rhiannon obeyed, both giving slight bows before stepping onto the stone.
The Guardian added, “I will send word when it is time to return.”
“Okay,” Rhiannon said, her words sounding rough, as if she needed a drink of water.
Keir nodded. “Aye.”
As the transference began, Keir’s thoughts tumbled through the revelations.
Gods. His Mystwalker mother not allowed to spend time with him because of his sonofabitch father. He easily believed his father to be so callous.
His woman half-Drow. He almost laughed at the thought of a D’Danann/Mystwalker/Drow/D’Anu witch child should he and Rhiannon have one.
The thought truly did not bother him. For Rhiannon to have his babe would be his second greatest wish. His first was to have Rhiannon as his own.
Chapter 22
As she studied them in the penthouse suite, Ceithlenn felt the heated thrill of conquering Darkwolf and Junga. Both had strong wills and had mentally fought submitting to her, but she had broken them.
“Leave us,” she ordered the Fomorii in human shells who were in the room. Ceithlenn waved the demon-men and women off to the left hallway where their rooms were when they were in the penthouse. These were the Fomorii she would replant throughout San Francisco to replace those killed in the sewers.
When all the demons had left the room, Ceithlenn returned her attention to Junga and Darkwolf.
One more task and they would serve her in a way that neither could begin to imagine. That no one would expect—least of all the D’Danann and witches.
Her fangs elongated as she looked from the warlock to the Fomorii Queen. “I’ve devoured ten more souls and their flesh, and it will give me the strength to accomplish today’s task. A task that involves you both.”
Darkwolf, as always, masked his feelings, his features blank. She narrowed her gaze as he said nothing. Perhaps she hadn’t broken him enough.
Junga gave a low bow but her expression had a hint of anger. Ceithlenn would soon change that.
Satisfaction charged through Ceithlenn, enhancing the beginning of her Change. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. Heat boiled the blood in her veins, worked its way up from her toes through her body until it reached her hair. Flames licked her scalp as her fingers stretched, turning into talons, and her already long nails lengthened.
A hiss spilled from her lips as her leathery wings pushed their way through her clothing. When they had stretched out and she felt the pleasure of her full transformation, she lowered her gaze and looked at Junga and Darkwolf. She no longer saw in full color as she did in Sara form. Instead, her vision was a mixture of gray and red—but she had the ability to see a being’s soul. The Fomorii Queen and the warlock both had strong souls. A rumbling grew in Ceithlenn’s mind and her belly.
“Be prepared for my return.” She hissed again. Her voice had changed to a different pitch than the host body she shared with Sara. Lower. Thicker. Lustier.
She wrapped her arms and wings tight around her body and readied herself for transference. Tingling sensations radiated through her body as she focused on her destination, a location Elizabeth-Junga had shown her earlier.
The penthouse suite spun out of sight until she was in a void of fire and ice. She pressed her mind onward and arrived inside the theater behind the very back row, close to the doors.
She smiled at all the life she saw before her. Life that would soon be her own. Interesting how some souls were strong and pure where others were dark and soiled. She cared not which kind she devoured, so long as she had many to draw from.
Ceithlenn took a deep breath, inhaling the smells of sweat, popcorn, spilled sodas. She heard many hearts beating and blood flowing through veins, as well as explosions and car chases in a movie playing on the big screen at the foot of the rows of delicious people. All that noise was convenient.
As she slowly unfurled her bat-like wings, she smiled at the irony. Her Sara host told her what was playing on the screen was a Batman movie.
The blood she heard and smelled called to her belly, the souls called to her own black soul. She needed the flesh and blood to quench the hunger in her stomach, the souls to fill her with powerful magic.
With a mere ripple in the air, she made herself invisible to human sight. Then she worked her way down one of the aisles. An electric feeling bolted through Ceithlenn and she almost roared. She would be so fast she would steal as many souls as she wanted without anyone realizing what was happening. In time.
She stopped at the front, turned, and sucked deeply of air and human essence from an entire row at once. Soft gasps were the only sounds the humans made as she stole their souls. She watched in fascination as bodies withered until dry skin clung to bones.
She swept row after row, faster than anyone could react. She drew in and savored every single bit of the human essence that became hers. The more she gathered, the stronger she became, the faster she could steal what was now hers—what would give her the power she needed to perform her next task.
Ceithlenn relished every moment, enjoyed everything about her feat. It almost seemed as if she was finished too soon. A theater employee entered and made a small cry, but in seconds Ceithlenn had her soul, too.
When all but the four humans in the last row were taken, Ceithlenn’s growling stomach made her lick her lips. She dropped her shield so that the humans could see her, then focused on her meal.
With a smile, she raised her hand and sent a burst of energy to the four people. All became instantly motionless, but dropped whatever they were holding. A bag of popcorn tumbled over a man’s lap, its contents scattering. Two drinks slipped from grasps and crashed to the floor. The rush of soft drink rolled and trickled over the steps.
Ceithlenn walked to the first human and tapped her shoulder. The woman came out of her stupor, looked up and screamed. The sound echoed throughout the theater but could barely be heard over the squealing car chase in the movie.
Ceithlenn showed her fangs as she grabbed the human by her shoulders. The woman screamed again as Ceithlenn sank her fangs into the woman’s throat. A gurgling cry bubbled up and blood rushed over Ceithlenn’s tongue. She savored the flavor as the human slumped. Ceithlenn tore the woman’s flesh from her bones with her teeth. It was so sweet, so delicious, so satisfying.
When she had taken the flesh, blood, and souls from her last four victims, Ceithlenn wrapped her wings around her body and began the rush of transference.
She arrived back in the penthouse in moments. Elizabeth-Junga sat regally on one leather couch, but her fingertips tapped on the couch’s arm in a nervous rhythm. Darkwolf was pacing the length of the room.
Darkwolf paused mid-stride, his gaze riveted on Ceithlenn. Junga stopped tapping her fingers.
Ceithlenn licked the blood from her lips and smiled.
Chapter 23
Darkwolf’s body went cold when he saw the look in Ceithlenn’s eyes. Whatever the bitch had in mind, he knew he wasn’t going to like it one damn bit.
Ceithlenn drew up to her full height. She was not a tall being whether in her goddess form or in her Sara body, but the flame hair and black wings made her appear taller and, he had to admit, more frightening.
The stone eye at Darkwolf’s neck heated against his chest and pain seared his head. He fought to keep his face expressionless. The lidless eye on the metal chain glowed a brilliant red, which matched the intensity of Ceithlenn’s own red eyes.
Ceithlenn’s gaze rested on Elizabeth-Junga, and she said, “Shift.”
The demon-woman got up from the couch and approached the center
of the penthouse’s enormous living room. The once beautiful woman’s hands and fingers turned into ham-fisted hands with hideous claws. Her body slowly morphed, bones shifting, her body elongating and thickening, until she was at least the size of a gorilla. Her arms hung down to the floor, and she had bulging eyes and an earless head.
Seeing her like that … Darkwolf turned his head away and focused on Ceithlenn.
The goddess smiled and stretched her arms out, her palms facing Junga. Darkwolf’s attention jerked back to the demon. A black light streamed from the goddess, striking Junga in the chest, then spreading over her body like a black fog. The demon began trembling—
And then she grew. Grew. Darkwolf watched, trying to keep from his face what would surely be a look of horror if he allowed it. Right before his eyes, the demon’s body pushed up to the ceiling and her girth tripled. The pop and crunch of bones and ligaments moving made his blood ice-cold.
Junga’s teeth became longer, wider, and looked as if they had been filed to sharp points. A pair of horns thrust up from her head. Her snout expanded and looked like a pig’s, only larger, and her now crimson eyes grew until they were large and round.
He held his breath as Ceithlenn turned her satisfied smile on him. It was a lot harder to maintain his expressionless mask when he knew what was coming. He had no doubt in his mind what she was going to do to him.
He couldn’t stop the “umph” that came from his mouth as her magic slammed into him. It was a living thing, crawling over him like a million black spiders. His body shook and trembled and he lost control and shouted from the pain as he began to morph. He looked down at his hands, which widened and thickened, and nails burst from his fingers.
The pain!
It was so intense as it ripped through his body. He felt as if his skin would tear as he expanded. He felt his features shift. His hair lengthened and hung over his face, lank and stringy. Smells became sharper and his vision turned so that everything was red and gray. He thought it was likely the chain holding the stone eye would break, but when he looked down, the chain links were thicker, longer.
And the eye was bigger.
Horns exploded from his head and matching pain burst in his mouth as he felt his incisors lengthen until they were outside his lips. He tried to shout his fury at Ceithlenn, but it came out as a powerful roar.
Like Junga, he had been fully changed into something inhuman. An enormous monster.
The goddess lowered her arms and shifted easily back into her Sara form. When she was completely transformed she sank into a nearby chair, slouching down in the seat and appearing exhausted, as if she had used up so much of her power that she couldn’t stand, much less sit up.
Now he should kill her. Darkwolf roared again and clenched his massive fists.
Ceithlenn’s gaze narrowed on both of them. “Kneel.”
Darkwolf let a fierce rumble rise out of his chest and Junga growled.
The goddess’s features changed to one of fury. “You will always bow to me. Kneel now!”
She straightened in her chair and focused first on Junga. The demon’s knees dropped to the floor and she prostrated herself.
Just as Darkwolf was wondering if Junga operated under her own volition, he felt Ceithlenn’s magic ram into him like a telephone pole pounding on his head. He barely contained a shout as his own knees gave out and a force like a gigantic hand pushed him so hard his torso slammed to the floor, his arms straight above him so that he was positioned exactly like Junga.
He raised his eyes. Ceithlenn reclined in her chair again with a satisfied smile. Her gaze met Darkwolf’s. “Now that’s much better.”
Chapter 24
By the time they’d left Otherworld and made it back to the apartment building, Rhiannon had worked herself into a major snit. It would have been so satisfying to throw a spellfire ball at each Chieftain’s ass.
A Drow king was her father! One of the Dark Elves. And she was supposed to embrace the Shadows and allow them to help her. The Drow and the Shadows were nothing short of evil, no matter what the Great Guardian said.
The fact that she’d inherited such perverted dark magic lay in her belly like a heavy weight. The Shadows were evil, just like her birth father.
She couldn’t tell her Coven sisters about the Shadows, and she certainly wasn’t ready to tell them about her father being Drow.
On top of everything, the head-splitting pain returned the moment they crossed over from Otherworld. The thought of Ceithlenn being in her head made the weight in Rhiannon’s stomach heavier.
When Rhiannon and Keir arrived in the common room, her jaw nearly dropped and her eyes widened.
High Priestess Janis Arrowsmith, of the white magic D’Anu Coven, stood in front of most of Rhiannon’s friends, who were all members of the gray magic D’Anu Coven. None of the PSF officers or D’Danann were in the room.
Janis’s frosty eyes still had that you’re-scum-beneath-my-feet look as she met Rhiannon’s gaze. Her gray hair was pulled back so tight it stretched the skin around her eyes and made her look like she’d had a face lift. She was tall, taller than Rhiannon and all of her Coven sisters, and had a way of looking down her nose that made Rhiannon want to slap her. Since she couldn’t singe a Chieftain’s ass, maybe Rhiannon would get Janis with a good spellfire ball to her backside.
Mackenzie and Alyssa stood beside Hannah, Sydney, and Silver. Cassia and Copper weren’t in the room. Most of the witches didn’t look too pleased to have Janis there.
Silver, though, maintained a polite expression—despite the fact that she had been the one who had been thrown out of the D’Anu white magic Coven for using gray magic. Rhiannon, Cassia, Sydney, Mackenzie, Alyssa, Hannah, and Copper had left with Silver, and the eight of them had formed their small gray magic Coven.
Mortimer, Janis’s mouse familiar, peeked out of the High Priestess’s forest green robes and Spirit hissed from across the room. Rhiannon’s gaze snapped to her familiar, who perched on the arm of a couch, his tail twitching.
To her immense surprise, Galia was sitting on Spirit’s back, her small fingers clasped in his hair, as if he were a horse. The Faerie was studying Janis with a frown on her petite face.
Spirit turned his head to glance at Rhiannon in a way that let her know he was ticked at her for leaving him behind when she went to Otherworld. His gaze returned to Mortimer and he crouched, looking ready to pounce the first chance he had. Galia patted Spirit’s side and the cat relaxed his position a little.
“What can we help you with?” Silver said in a calm tone that reminded Rhiannon of Silver’s and Copper’s mother. Moondust was one of the fallen in their battle against the Fomorii on Samhain.
Apparently Janis had just arrived. “I had a vision.” Janis focused her attention on Silver. Her voice was strong, yet her lips twitched in an almost nervous manner. Was the High Priestess a bit shaken up over something?
“Go on,” Silver said quietly.
Janis cleared her throat. “I visioned a great host of demons. I saw a being with hair of flame and the wings of a bat gather the souls of many, many people. That evil creature freed a force even more powerful than she.”
The room was entirely quiet.
“I saw panic as well as riots when people started to learn of mass murders being committed by this creature,” Janis said in a shaky voice. “People of the city thought it to be a terrorist attack.
“I saw more death.” Her hands actually trembled at her sides. “I saw San Francisco’s devastation.”
Goose bumps rose on Rhiannon’s skin. Janis was a more powerful visionary than she. It didn’t mean the vision would necessarily come to pass. The outcome could be changed.
But Janis having this vision—it wasn’t good. It really wasn’t good.
All of the witches in the room looked as stunned as Rhiannon felt. Everyone knew how powerful Janis’s visions were.
“This future can be prevented.” Janis met Silver’s gaze. “All my D’Anu Cove
n can do is pray and meditate, chant and heal what damage has been done or comes to pass. We can use the white magic we have at our disposal that does not venture close to the gray. You know this.”
Rhiannon took a step toward Janis. “What exactly are you saying?”
The High Priestess raised her chin. “I can only tell you of my vision. I can only warn you. I cannot and will not ask anything of you.”
“Because we use gray magic.” Copper pushed her way past Rhiannon and Keir into the common room, obviously having just come in from the outside. Her walking cast thumped as she moved forward to confront the High Priestess.
Janis’s eyes widened. “Copper?”
“Alive and kicking.” Copper looked down at her ankle cast. “More or less.”
“You were missing so long …” Janis said, a shocked expression still on her face.
“Took gray magic to get me out of the mess.” Copper narrowed her eyes. “And then I get back to learn you kicked my sister out of the Coven.”
Janis straightened and her expression became steely again. “As I expressed, I came only to share this vision with you.” Her robes swished as she turned and walked past Rhiannon and Copper. When her gaze landed on Keir she narrowed her eyes. “D’Danann.”
“One who helped save your ass on Samhain, from what I was told,” Rhiannon said.
Janis raised her chin and swept out the common room door and out of their sight.
“Whoa.” Sydney looked at her Coven sisters. “I can’t believe Janis told us about her vision.”
“She did come to me not long before Copper made her way back home,” Silver said. “Only Janis didn’t make any dire predictions.”
“I remember you telling me about that.” Copper took an audible breath. “So just how deep are we?”
“I’d say pretty deep.” Rhiannon moved from the doorway to drop her duffel on a couch. She plopped down beside it. “The Chieftains said no. They won’t send any more help.”
The witches stared at Rhiannon.
Galia’s little face twisted with fury. “Those idiots!” She stood on Spirit’s back. But then a puzzled expression replaced the anger. “I will be back,” she said before she zipped out of the room in a poof of pink dust.
Wicked Magic Page 20
