The Awakening (Immortals)

by Joy Nash

  Communicating with a series of grunts and whistles and body motions, the largest creature, clearly the leader, herded his pack in the direction from which Christine had just come.

  They halted directly in front of deLinea. They seemed to be waiting, craning their necks as they peered upward. Christine eased away from her sheltering doorway and looked up.

  The sky was angry—at first she saw nothing but an amorphous dark blotch against a grimy background of lowhanging clouds. The wind howled. As she watched, the stain on the sky grew larger, resolving into a writhing mass of bodies and wings. Christine’s stomach turned. More Unseelies. Hundreds of them.

  They dropped out of the sky like a rain of brimstone, trailing fire in their wake. Several landed on the roof of the gallery; others crowded the street or hung from the window casings and eaves, banging eagerly on the glass.

  The Unseelies in the street shrieked and rushed deLinea’s front door. White energy flashed, then dimmed. Kalen’s wards held—one monster dropped to the pavement, shrieking. His companions were undaunted; they rushed the doorway in a second assault. A barrage of elfshot met them; Kalen’s Sidhe had joined the fight. A brief exchange of fire and light ensued. One vivid blast left several Unseelies writhing on the pavement. The rest drew back, communicating with whistles and grunts. Regrouping, they fell into a wedge formation and charged the door.

  It gave way with a crash. On an upper level, a window shattered. The creatures screeched, clawing each other as they fought to get inside. Christine stood frozen, her fist pressed against her mouth. Kalen. Would he stand by while the Sidhe fought? Or would he join the fight? If he killed even one of these monsters…

  She darted back down the street, all thoughts of her own escape forgotten. She had to get to Kalen. Protect him…A hysterical laugh rose in her throat as she realized how ludicrous that thought was. Still, she had to try. She had to be with him.

  Three steps and she stumbled on her heels, wrenching her ankle. Cursing, she tried to kick the shoes off. Before she could loosen the straps, a claw caught her arm.

  Sharp talons dragged across her skin, scraping like blades of fire. Christine cried out, trying to pull free, choking on a foul stench. An Unseelie loomed over her, yellow eyes aglow. A line of slobber dribbled from the corner of its mouth.

  She didn’t have time to think. Gathering her magic, she drew what power she could from both the sea spray necklace and the water hidden in the Unseelie’s own body. With a cry, she focused the magic and sent it blasting toward her attacker.

  The Unseelie recoiled with a shriek. Christine wrenched herself from its grasp and lunged in the direction of the gallery. Before she’d taken two steps, three more of the monsters dropped into her path. She spun about, only to find that her first assailant had recovered and was closing in from behind.

  She was trapped.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Unseelies were storming his gallery.

  Inconceivable.

  And yet, it was happening. The creatures had crashed through his perimeter wards and attacked his Sidhe guards. Mac’s clan was meeting the challenge. Fiona had reacted with her usual efficiency, herding the guests onto the gallery’s center dais and deploying a defensive circle around them. The rest of the clan were battling the Unseelies at the doorways and windows and Kalen was confident they’d soon deal with the invasion. Unseelies were essentially undisciplined, while Mac’s clan battled with deliberate, exacting strategy. They were the best fighters in the city. Kalen should know, he’d trained them himself.

  He had no doubt his guards would repulse the monsters. More troubling was the fact that Christine hadn’t yet emerged from the ladies’ room. Kalen ducked across the foyer, aiming a burst of cold, white energy at a knot of Unseelies just inside the door. He was careful not to actually hit any of the creatures. He couldn’t risk causing a wound that might prove fatal.

  He slammed open the ladies’ room door. “Christine?”

  No answer. Damn it all to Hades. The room was empty.

  Water sprayed from one of the sinks, and there was a lingering aura of glamour magic. Cold dread seeped through Kalen’s senses. Christine had asked questions about the building and its magical security system. He’d thought she was frightened—what an idiot he was! While he’d been mooning over her like a lovesick puppy, she’d been planning her escape.

  With his wards in place, the only way she could have left the building was through the front entrance—and to do that, she had to have passed him in the foyer and slipped out the front door. There’d been a man who’d hurried past, a human he didn’t recognize. At the time, Kalen hadn’t paid much attention. Now he knew he should have.

  A fear unlike any he’d ever known caught hold of his throat and squeezed. Christine was in the street with the Unseelies, alone and unprotected. Cursing, he flung himself through the shattered entranceway.

  The scene that greeted him was like a kick in the gut. Four of the slavering monsters had cornered Christine. She fought them off with blue waves of energy—drawn from the sea spray necklace, Kalen realized. He sent silent thanks to the merfolk.

  One Unseelie took a swipe at Christine, opening a gash on her shoulder. Pure, primitive anger, raw and fierce, erupted in Kalen’s gut. Bloodlust. An emotion he’d thought he’d banished. An emotion that could doom him for all eternity.

  He found he didn’t care.

  He flung a burst of white energy at the monster. He’d aimed to kill, but at Christine’s scream the thing twisted, catching the bolt on its arm instead of square in the gut. It yelped in outrage, swinging toward Kalen with murder in its yellow eyes.

  “Bring it on, scum.” He aimed his second shot.

  “No, Kalen—don’t kill it! You can’t!”

  Christine’s cry pierced his concentration—his blast went wide. The Unseelie rushed him. With an oath, he grabbed it with his bare hands and tossed it aside—but not with enough force to kill it. The bloodlust was fading. A measure of sanity had returned.

  Christine swept her arm in a horizontal arc, sending a wave of blue energy toward the remaining three monsters. The Unseelies recoiled only momentarily. A heartbeat later, they resumed their slow advance.

  Kalen swore, eaten alive by his helplessness. Christine’s magic, focused by the sea spray necklace, was strong, but three Unseelies were more than any human witch could hope to defeat.

  One of the creatures shifted on its feet, preparing to lunge. Kalen flung himself in front of Christine as the Unseelie leapt, taking the brunt of the monster’s attack on his upper back. He snatched Christine into his arms and spun about, shaking the beast off and giving it a vicious kick. No sooner had its body collided with the pavement than one of its comrades sprang up in its place. Worse, a second pack of the creatures had caught wind of the fight and were racing to join the sport. Now he had seven of the things to contend with. Kalen couldn’t hold them all back, not without killing some of them.

  He could translocate and take Christine with him. But the preparation would leave him vulnerable for three long seconds. He could keep the Unseelies at bay, hoping they’d eventually tire. But the chances of doing that without casualty were slim.

  His third option? Blast the fucking things to bits and be done with it.

  Christine shot a bolt of blue energy at one of the creatures. Abruptly, Kalen realized she was trying to protect him. Gods. As if he weren’t emasculated enough.

  “Get behind me,” he said tersely, setting her on her feet. “I’m going to blast through them.”

  “No!” Christine clung to his arm. “You can’t!”

  “I can and I—” Air abruptly vacated his lungs as an Unseelie leapt onto Kalen and sunk its foul claws into his shoulder. He ripped the creature from his back and flung it into the street.

  “Disgusting slime.” He eyed the others, noting a subtle flick of a webbed hand, an answering whistle and nod. The things were communicating. Working out a plan of attack. Unbelievable. The Unseelies he’d face
d seven centuries earlier had been mindless brutes. Mac was right—someone was guiding them, training them as an army. Tain? The notion sickened him.

  He felt Christine gathering her magic. “I’ll take the three on the right,” she whispered urgently. “You hold back the four on the left, but for the gods’ sake, don’t kill any of them.”

  “I will if I have to,” he muttered.

  “No.” Her beautiful eyes were stricken. “I couldn’t bear it. Promise me you won’t.”

  “You’ll stay back. Behind me.”

  “I won’t! You need me—”

  Her protest evaporated in the deafening roar of a motor. The blinding glare of a headlight arced over the scene as a motorcycle sped around the corner, tires squealing. The machine’s front wheel burned as it skidded in a tight half circle, spewing green sparks. The Unseelies scattered, screeching. The driver lost control of the vehicle; he leapt free as four hundred pounds of metal and chrome shot across the pavement and slammed into a streetlamp. Sparks showered all around the driver’s tall, leather-clad form.

  “Mac!” Christine’s eyes were huge. “How—”

  “No time to chat, love.” The demigod sent a blast of elfshot at the last lingering Unseelie. The emerald stream left a gaping hole in the center of the creature’s stomach. The monster looked down, whimpered, and collapsed in a smoking heap.

  Christine let out a shuddering breath. Kalen felt her knees go; his arm tightened around her, holding her upright. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, running his free hand over her limbs.

  “No,” she gasped. “I’m fine.” She leaned heavily on Kalen as her gaze found Mac. “How did you know—?”

  “I was following them,” Mac replied grimly. “They’ve been wreaking bloody havoc.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I tried to talk some sense into her, but…” He shook his head. “She’s in deep. Deeper than I’d guessed.”

  “Who?” Kalen asked, frowning.

  “Leanna. She’s turned demonwhore. The demon she’s servicing is the one who freed the Unseelies from Uffern. The entity has given Leanna dominion over the Unseelies.” Screams spilled from the gallery. Mac’s eyes cut toward the building. “They’re inside?”

  “Yes. Your clan’s dealing with them.”

  “Bloody hell.” Mac was already stalking toward the door. He paused to send a glance toward Kalen, then Christine. “You’d better take her out of here.”

  Kalen knew it was Mac’s way of helping him save face, but the dismissal still stung. “I’ll be back once Christine’s safe,” he told his friend.

  Mac’s eyes were grave. “Don’t risk yourself, Kalen.”

  “It’s my gallery. My people.”

  “Mine as well, mate. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of things. I had a good teacher.” With a parting wave, he turned and darted for the gallery entrance.

  “Wait!” Christine twisted out of Kalen’s arms and started after Mac. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Hades.” Kalen surged after her and caught her by the wrist. “Forget it, Christine. You’re coming with me.”

  Mac disappeared through the door, ducking past a barrage of elfshot. A second later, an Unseelie climbed out of a third-floor window, dragging a screaming woman. The creature bashed its burden against the sill. The women went limp, her screams silenced. Kalen swore silently. What was going wrong in there? The Sidhe should have had the Unseelies routed by now.

  “Oh, Goddess,” Christine breathed. “Let me go! People are being killed.”

  “Let Mac handle it.”

  “He’ll need help. I’ve got to go back in!”

  “Why?” asked Kalen tersely. “You were eager enough to get away. So eager you skulked past me disguised as a man.”

  Guilt flashed through her eyes. “You didn’t give me much choice.”

  “I offered you eternity in Annwyn. With me. I thought…” A wave of profound hurt washed over him, making it hard to keep his voice steady. Where was the fearless warrior now? His tone hardened. “Never mind what I thought. You’re coming home with me. Now.” He let his magic drop in preparation for the jump to his castle.

  Christine’s eyes widened. “No. I won’t go back there.”

  She sent a blast of water magic straight into his chest just as his power reached its lowest point. Caught unaware by the sheer force of her blow, he staggered backward with a grunt.

  Christine twisted out of his arms. “You go back to the castle. I have to stay here.”

  “You don’t honestly think I would allow that.”

  “It’s not your choice to make!”

  “It certainly is,” Kalen said through clenched teeth.

  “I won’t run while people are in danger.”

  But you would. The unspoken words hung in the air between them. Centuries of shame and impotence hit Kalen like a kick to the solar plexus. And in that instant, he knew what he had to do, consequences be damned.

  Understanding flared in Christine’s eyes, then turned to panic. “No, Kalen. You can’t. I didn’t mean—”

  He cut off her words, clamping a hand on her wrist and jerking her across the street to where a small crowd of human onlookers had gathered. The Edinburgh parapolice had just arrived and were in the process of erecting both physical and magical caution barriers. Kalen thrust Christine roughly toward the largest policeman.

  “Look after this witch,” he told the man. “Don’t let her in the building. If I see her enter, I’ll come back out here and kill you. Do you understand?”

  The policeman’s eyes bulged. He swallowed visibly. “Yes, sir.”

  Christine didn’t take her eyes off Kalen for a second. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Don’t risk yourself.”

  “What do you care?” he asked her. “You were leaving me.”

  “I had to! Don’t you understand? What you wanted for me wasn’t right!”

  “What you want for me isn’t right, either, Christine.” He looked toward the building. “I have to go back. It’s my gallery. My responsibility.”

  “But—”

  He turned and faced the battle, Christine’s pleas fading to nothingness in his mind. His spine straightened as his emotions fell away. His mental turmoil faded. In its place rose a warrior’s instinct, as ancient and as sure as the earth beneath his feet. An instinct he’d never quite been able to repress.

  His senses sifted through the sounds and vibrations of the battle going on inside the darkened building. Warenergy pulsed, shifting and moving like a living thing. Like a creature of death. And Kalen understood it as if it were a part of him.

  His world narrowed, his vision sharpened. Mac and his Sidhe were making progress, but the threat was still vivid. Humans were at risk. The Unseelies were unbelievably strong, drawing power and intelligence from some dark force outside themselves.

  A man shouted a curse. It was followed by a female sob. The sounds propelled Kalen to action. Bloodlust rose, but this time Kalen didn’t let the emotion overshadow his rational mind. A balance of logic and passion was needed to win a battle. He’d often faced a battle with both those weapons in his arsenal. Tonight, however, a third, all-too-human emotion threatened to disarm him.

  Fear. It was as palpable as his own heartbeat. For the first two millennia of his life, he’d never known it. Then came Gerold’s betrayal. The moment Kalen had arrived in the monastery crypt to find the monk with his knife poised over his own child’s heart, Kalen had learned the meaning of true terror. Imprisoned by Uni, not knowing if his confinement would ever end, he knew the emotion as his constant companion. And since his release, he’d lived with the fear that one act of irreversible violence could put him back in that cell for all eternity.

  An acid tide of panic burned Kalen’s veins. Fear for Christine, for Fiona and the other Sidhe, and even for Mac, the son of his heart who had given Kalen the loyalty that Gerold hadn’t. Under it all, a swift current running, was fear for himself. Fear of an eternity passed in deadening numbness.

  A
nd yet, he could not turn from this fight. Would not. Not with people dying. The instinct to protect was deeper even than his terror.

  He drew a deep breath and plunged into the battle.

  There was no way Christine was going to stand by and let Kalen doom himself for eternity.

  With a silent apology to the parapoliceman, who thought he could keep her on the safe side of the barriers, Christine touched the sea spray necklace. It was easy enough to cloak herself with a look-away glamour. Easier still to bypass the Edinburgh parapolice’s wards and protections. She darted across the street and burst through deLinea’s doors at a full run.

  The scene inside was straight from hell. She paused, chest spasming against a lungful of oily fumes. Demon smoke clogged the foyer; she could see almost nothing. She bent double, coughing, desperate to expel the poison from her lungs. Overhead, fetid blasts of fire spattered, falling in an odorous spray on her head. She clutched the sea spray necklace. It enabled her to fight at a distance—an advantage she was sure to need in this battle.

  Sounds of fighting erupted from the upper level. An errant dart of elfshot sizzled out of the screen of smoke and hit the wall above her head. She bent her head and ran in the direction of the stair. Finding it, she sprinted to the upper level.

  Here, the smoke was less opaque. She could make out the forms of Sidhe and Unseelies at battle. A yellowish, oneeyed beast emerged from the cloud, its veined wings beating a cloud of smoke. Turning abruptly, it spied her.

  With a single beat of its wings, it was on her. Christine screamed as its claws dug into her shoulder. She managed a blast of power, momentarily stunning it. Scrambling backward out of its reach, she came up hard against the railing that overlooked the lower level. The Unseelie lurched upright with an enraged hiss. It shook its hand wildly, hopping about and screeching as if the appendage were on fire.

  With a spurt of horror, Christine realized her necklace was tangled in its claws.