Wicked Magic

by Cheyenne McCray

  “Go on.” Hannah backed away. “Get to Cassia.”

  Rhiannon nodded. “Thank you.”

  She turned and shook her head. What was the world coming to now? Hannah was concerned about her?

  And Keir … she couldn’t even begin to think about his part in all of this. And exactly how she felt about it … about him.

  Chapter 26

  Ceithlenn burned with fury.

  In the cavern beneath Alcatraz, she crouched on a ledge with her palms braced between her thighs. Far below her was the army of Fomorii, Basilisks, and three-headed dogs from Underworld.

  Ceithlenn growled as she thought about what had happened only hours ago. She had come face-to-face with the bitch who had invaded her mind and her sanctum. Rhiannon. Her mind should still be broken, and she should have died from the blast of Ceithlenn’s magic.

  “Why isn’t the bitch dead?” Ceithlenn said aloud.

  Her own wounds had healed, the tears in her wings mended with her regenerative powers. The only reason she had suffered any damage at all was because she had drained herself transforming Darkwolf and Junga into her special weapons. Too bad she had already transferred them here, to this rock of an island, or those who had dared to attack her would have suffered a sure defeat.

  No matter. Her lips curved into a smile and she licked her fangs. She would defeat the human law enforcement, D’Danann, and those witches. She had devised a plan to lure them out in order to do so. And she had come up with the perfect venue. One where she could draw on many souls before the battle was finished, allowing her to bring Balor back. There were relatively few of her enemies in comparison to her legions that it would not take her entire force to defeat them. She would save the bulk of her army to devour San Francisco.

  Below the ledge where she perched, the demons of her army sharpened their nails, which they all had dipped in iron heated until it was a fiery liquid. Before today, only a few of the Fomorii had iron-tipped claws. But now all the demons would.

  Her gaze landed on Darkwolf and Junga. She had put the pair to work commanding her legions.

  Ceithlenn flapped her great wings and pushed herself from the ledge. Air rushed past her now-healed face. She soared above the legions, her gaze taking in all who served her. From one end of the cavern to the other, she assessed the demons.

  Her eyes narrowed as she honed in on the bodies of multiple dead humans being dragged into the cavern by a group of Fomorii.

  She dove toward the leader of the group. Paa, Ceithlenn thought her name was.

  She landed before Paa and the Fomorii demon immediately bowed her scaly, hideous orange head. “How may I serve you, my goddess?” Paa asked in the guttural language of the Fomorii.

  Ceithlenn’s hair flamed higher, burning with the force of her anger. “Where did these humans come from?”

  “One of the tour boats, my goddess.” Paa raised her head. “We found much flesh to feed the Fomorii.”

  “You idiot!” Ceithlenn held out her hand. A burst of magic shot out and slammed into the demon’s chest.

  Paa was flung back several feet and struck its head on the stone wall. The demon held its hand to its chest, where it was seared so badly the heart was exposed.

  “I did not give you permission to harvest humans!” She stalked toward the demon. “We cannot have too many humans missing. Yet. Only I may take their lives and their flesh.”

  Paa trembled, and its three eyes were wide with fear. When Ceithlenn stood directly in front of Paa, she reached out, grabbed the demon’s pulsating heart, ripped it from Paa’s chest, and sank her teeth into the organ. She ate as she watched Paa die.

  The demon screamed, but the sound faded away as it crumbled to silt on the cavern floor.

  Ceithlenn turned to the demons that had gone quiet as she punished the legion leader. Blood dribbled down the goddess’s chin, and she took another bite of the heart. The heart of a Fomarii did not turn to silt if it was ripped from a living demon’s chest.

  With the D’Danann it was much the same. Their bodies would vanish, but their hearts would remain if torn from their chest before they died.

  “No eating humans,” Ceithlenn shouted to the legions. “Harvest only fish. No more whales. I do not wish to have a trail left that might expose us before we are ready to attack.”

  “Yes, my goddess,” came the replies, the roar of voices equal to the roar of the ocean.

  Ceithlenn swallowed the rest of the heart.

  Using great nets, her demons had been capturing fish and other sea creatures from the bay and as far out as the ocean for food. When she had been in her penthouse lair, the Sara part of her had listened to what was called a television. It pleased Ceithlenn to hear the frantic concern about the gradual depletion of the bay’s creatures. Once the Fomorii had brought in a whale, and several times sharks and octopi.

  Ceithlenn soared over the heads of the demons and shouted out commands to the remaining legion leaders. “All beings in this sanctuary must train each waking minute of every day.”

  Her creatures bowed so low their faces touched the cavern floor and she smiled.

  The Fomorii practiced using speed to get to their enemies and jumps to snatch D’Danann warriors from the sky. They would dig their nails into the warriors’ flesh and destroy them with the iron on their claws.

  Basilisks and the three-headed dogs of Underworld were worthless to train, but very useful in battle.

  She would gain massive power from devouring the souls from the San Francisco Giants’ exhibition game in the baseball stadium.

  Ceithlenn glided back to her ledge, landed, and crouched again with her palms on the rock’s bumpy surface. She smiled. She would soon call forth Balor.

  When her beloved arrived, she would take the eye from Darkwolf’s throat. She would present it to her love, her husband. Without his eye he was blind. With it, he could kill legions with just one look.

  He had lost his single eye when a prophecy came to pass and his own grandson, the sun god Lugh, had shot the eye from Balor’s head.

  But the eye, all these centuries later, had been retrieved.

  Once Balor had his eye, all within his line of sight would perish.

  Chapter 27

  Strange sensations twisted Keir’s gut as he stood in Rhiannon’s apartment and watched Cassia treat Rhiannon’s wounds with creams that smelled of chickweed, aloe, and comfrey. Blue sparkles radiated from Cassia’s fingertips. The burned area lightened and no longer looked charred, yet remained red and blistered.

  The feelings inside him—gods, he had never felt this way about anyone in his lifespan. Centuries had passed and suddenly one woman arrived in his life who practically wrenched his heart in two by almost being killed.

  “It won’t completely heal for a couple of days.” Cassia taped a pad to Rhiannon’s chest, covering the burned area. “But it should feel better.”

  Rhiannon’s chest rose and fell as she took a deep, audible breath. Keir found himself taking a breath with her.

  “Who’s treating Jake’s wound?” Rhiannon asked as she leaned back in her bright blue overstuffed chair.

  “Silver and Hannah have him covered,” Cassia said.

  Spirit kept twining himself around her ankles and making soft mewling sounds. Keir went to Rhiannon’s kitchen, used a can opener, and put cat food in Spirit’s bowl. The cat immediately ran into the kitchen, rubbed against Keir’s leg, and purred.

  “The wound on my chest is already beginning to feel like it’s not there,” Rhiannon was saying as she started buttoning a bright pink blouse over that thing she called a bra. She had showered and her hair was damp. He thought about the ruined T-shirt and the strange body armor that human law enforcement used. He thanked the gods for that armor or his treasure would have been lost.

  Cassia gathered the small vessels she had brought with her then paused to look at Rhiannon. “You must speak with your Coven sisters soon,” she said, and Rhiannon’s face fell from a smile to a look of s
adness as Keir watched her. “I know of the power within you, and it’s time your sisters know, too. And of your heritage.”

  “I’m not ready,” Rhiannon said in a husky voice and Keir moved behind her and gripped her shoulders as he studied Cassia.

  The half-Elvin witch’s voice lowered. “You must be ready. They need to know.”

  Rhiannon nodded and Cassia smiled at her, then Keir.

  “Take care of her, Keir,” she said before walking around them both.

  He barely heard Rhiannon mumbling, “I don’t need to be taken care of.”

  His gaze landed on the carved bird he had given her in Otherworld. She had set it upon a small table at the end of her couch and it pleased him to see it there.

  After Cassia slipped out of the apartment and closed the door, Keir massaged Rhiannon’s shoulders for a bit and she sighed and let her head loll forward.

  When he believed she was a bit more relaxed, he let her go and moved in front of her, crouched on one knee, and pushed her thighs apart to get closer. She wore a short article of clothing she called a skirt, and it showed a great deal of her beautiful legs. It barely hid the soft flesh beneath the material.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered as he took her face in his hands.

  He captured her mouth in a swift kiss, the only answer he needed to give. Rhiannon moaned into his mouth as he brushed his lips over hers.

  Keir rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She tasted sweet. Like apples and cinnamon from the tea she’d been drinking as Cassia tended to her wound.

  Rhiannon moved her hands to his chest then slipped them around so that her palms were on his back. She clung to him like one might cling to a tree limb when being swept down a river. He bit her lower lip softly and she moaned again.

  Gods, the feelings inside him had already stolen his breath and swept him down the same river. He could get lost in this woman. A sense of being off-balance, almost dizzy, had him spinning into a whirlpool of desire.

  He moved his hands slowly over her body, tracing her curves. She shivered and raised her chest, offering herself to him as he drew small circles around her nipples with his thumbs. He took great care to not touch her wound.

  When his palms rested at the indentations at her waist, he drew away from the kiss. Rhiannon’s eyes were heavylidded, her mouth moist, and her lips swollen from his kiss.

  “Don’t stop.” She gripped him tighter and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “I want to bed you, a stór.” He stroked her from her waist, past her skirt, to her bare thighs and knees. “I want to be inside of you.” He needed the closeness, needed to know she was alive, to feel her alive. But he said, “I fear for your injury.”

  “I’m okay.” Her green eyes grew to a shade of emerald darker than the ones on the High Chieftain’s rings. “We can avoid touching my burn. Just take me to bed.”

  Keir kissed her hard again, then slipped his hands under her ass while she continued to cling to him with her arms and thighs. He rose up with Rhiannon cradled in his embrace, taking care not to hold her too close. It was but a few strides to make it to her bedroom, where he pushed aside her tangled sheets and blankets with one hand then carefully laid her on the center of the small bed with her head on a pillow. She smiled up at him, and his heart twisted again.

  Rhiannon began unbuttoning her blouse as he pulled off her skirt and tossed it aside. She was already barefoot. He went back to draw down her undergarment but saw she’d finished unbuttoning her blouse and helped her shrug out of it. She had shown him how to unclasp the undergarment that hid her beautiful breasts. If he had any say in the matter, she would wear nothing beneath her clothing. But with Rhiannon … she was so stubborn he did not know if she would do as he requested. Perhaps if he used that word “please” that she seemed to like so much.

  When he removed her bra and other undergarment, for a moment he could only look at her. He studied her lovely body from her short auburn hair, to her breasts and the hard peaks of her nipples. The bandage just below her breasts caused a tightness to squeeze his chest.

  Keir forced himself not to linger on it and instead swept his gaze from her belly to the full flare of her hips and the auburn curls of her mound. He could already scent the musk of her desire and his cock grew even more painful against his breeches.

  “Your turn.” Her smile made his gut turn inside out.

  He shucked off his boots, untied his leather breeches, and stepped out of them, then practically ripped his shirt over his head. When he was naked she studied him as he had studied her.

  “You are so beautiful,” she whispered.

  Taken aback, he paused. He certainly had never been called beautiful before. A great lover, aye, but not beautiful.

  Lise’s comments came to the forefront of his mind as he knelt beside the bed and stroked Rhiannon’s hair from her face.

  “I wonder what kind of woman it would take to tame you?” Lise had said.

  Was he tamed? The warrior inside him wanted to say no, but his heart said yes.

  Keir slipped onto the bed beside Rhiannon, propped his elbow on the mattress, and touched her face with his free hand. He trailed his fingertips along the scars on her cheek and anger flared through him again at the thought that the Fomorii Queen had done this to her.

  His anger faded, however, as she brought her hand up to his head, and ran her fingers through his hair. She made him shiver with longing and need from just the touch of her fingers on his scalp and the brush of her hand on his shoulder when she reached the ends of his hair.

  He cupped her cheek and brought his mouth to hers. He wanted to take his time and explore every inch of this precious woman. Gods, he could have lost her today. Every time the thought crossed his mind, it made him feel as if a boulder was weighted in his gut.

  Those thoughts vanished when she moaned and slipped her fingers around his cock. It jerked in her hand and he bit her lower lip with the promise of passion. She slid her hand further to cup his balls and gently fondled them, making him groan. The need to part her thighs and drive into her was so great that he thrust his tongue hard into her mouth and plundered it like he wanted to plunder her tight channel with his cock.

  She gave a sigh as he moved his lips along her chin to her earlobe and bit it. He darted his tongue into her ear and she shivered in his arms. At the same time he moved his hand from her face, exploring the curves of her neck and shoulder to her waist and the flare of her hip. He cupped her ass and drew her closer to him so that his cock was against her belly, his hips tight to hers. But he was ever aware of her burn, and careful not to let their chests touch.

  “You are mine, a stór,” he murmured as his lips moved from her ear to the softness of her neck.

  Rhiannon gave soft sighs and moans as he touched her, kissed her, made love to her. She had yet to admit that her heart and soul belonged to him, but he was certain it was only a matter of time. She was his.

  He slid down her body so that he could move his lips to the hollow of her throat. “Has anyone ever told you what a wonderful lover you are?” she murmured.

  Keir simply continued his gentle lovemaking with Rhiannon. He had been told many times what a skilled lover he was, but he had never made love before. He’d fucked countless women, but he had never wanted to explore a woman so thoroughly, to become part of her, to cherish her, to please her in a way that would steal her breath and his.

  Her fingers slid up his cock to the head, where she stroked the slit at the top with her thumb. “Maybe you’re such a good lover because you’re part Mystwalker,” Rhiannon said in a teasing voice. “Didn’t the Guardian say something about Mystwalkers being known as incredible lovers? Maybe I’ll keep you around for a little while.”

  Keir grunted as his lips moved over the curve of one of her breasts. He would keep her a long while—an eternity. He licked her nipple in gentle strokes and Rhiannon gripped his cock more firmly as she cried out and tilted her h
ead back. He almost couldn’t breathe from the hold she had on his erection and he sucked her nipple hard in response. That only made her grip him tighter and her cries grew louder.

  Keir moved his mouth to her other nipple and licked and sucked it. She sighed, she moaned, she made soft mewling noises. All the sounds made his urgency for her even greater than before.

  Rhiannon raised herself up and pushed at Keir’s shoulder. He let her force him onto his back as she straddled him, her folds slick against his cock.

  “I want to taste you, a stór.” He gripped her hips with both hands. “You steal from me what I most want.”

  Rhiannon smiled. “You can have your turn next. But first I get to taste you.”

  With a groan he allowed her to slip between his thighs, her body brushing over his painful erection as she moved lower. When her mouth was level with his cock, she looked up at him and smiled again. With her eyes fixed on his, she slipped his erection into her mouth.

  His hips bucked up in reaction. “Gods above,” he managed to get out.

  Her mouth was warm and moist and when she softly sucked he let out a loud groan. She fondled his balls with one hand while using her other hand to move up and down his shaft in tandem with her mouth.

  He gripped his hands in her short, silky hair and held her while his hips bucked up to meet her. She took him so deep. And the way she watched him while she slid his cock in and out of her mouth … he knew he would climax soon.

  “I am going to spill my seed,” he said in a voice so rough he almost didn’t recognize it as his own. Rhiannon sucked harder and pleasure radiated around his cock and balls. The intensity of the pleasure grew within him until he felt as though his eyes had crossed and his mind had fled.

  His orgasm arrowed through him, to every limb of his body, to every hair on his head. She drew his seed from him until he was so sated he thought he might never move again.

  She grinned as she crawled up to lie beside him. “Is my warrior tired?”