The Volatile Amazon

by Sandy James

  Now, it appeared her sisters were going to make this day more memorable. No wonder the only clothing she could find to wear to supper was a silk sari. Ian wore the MacKay plaid for the first time since she’d met him, which spoke volumes for how far he’d come from the pain of his past.

  “Very special.” Gina swept her arm out. “Welcome to your wedding feast.”

  “What are you talking—” The question died in Sarita’s throat when she saw the decorations inside the cavernous room.

  Garlands of flowers hung from the wooden rafters. Candles burned on the tables and the mantel of the stone fireplace. Delicious-smelling food was piled on the main table, which had been set with white plates and sparkling silverware. Several bottles of champagne chilled in ice buckets. A three-tiered cake waited for dessert.

  Her sisters had been very busy, no doubt with the help of Beagan and Dolan. Both changelings were dressed in green velvet vests and looked so much like leprechauns, Sarita had to suppress a giggle.

  When she and Gina first arrived at Avalon, Beagan and Dolan kept their distance. While they’d always made sure the Amazons had everything they needed, the changelings tended to show themselves only to Rebecca. Over time, they’d turned up more and more, and once the children arrived, Beagan and Dolan became an active part of the Amazon family, serving not only as nannies but as homeopathic doctors. The only time they shifted into rabbits and disappeared anymore was when someone yelled at them, which wasn’t often.

  Tears stung Sarita’s eyes. After having only her distant Aunt Kamala and Lalita in her life, she was overwhelmed by the love she felt flowing to her from these people—her true family.

  Gina smiled. “Since you had such a fast wedding—”

  “Fast being an understatement,” Rebecca added.

  “—we wanted to have a celebration to mark you and Ian being married.”

  “Thank you,” Sarita choked out, but the words were barely audible.

  Ian took her hand in his. “My wife and I thank you kindly.”

  Artair stepped forward, his gaze focused on the MacKay plaid. He cleared his throat twice before he spoke. “I want to welcome you to Avalon, Ian. I hope we can sit and talk sometime so we can put aside the past. You were wronged in so many ways...” He swallowed hard.

  “Aye,” Ian replied. “We should talk.”

  “’Tis good to see you wear the plaid I sent to you.”

  “Thank you for that kindness.”

  Ian’s hand was squeezing hers tight enough to cut off her circulation.

  While she wanted to butt in and demand the brothers patch up their differences now, she didn’t. Only time and understanding would bring Ian and Artair back together, although they’d made a good beginning. She saw both sides of the story, which neither of them could probably manage yet.

  If only she could heal them.

  Bonnie and Darian drew closer, and Artair crooked his finger at them. They grinned and hurried to his side.

  “This is my daughter, Bonnie,” Artair said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

  “’Tis good to meet you.” Ian bowed to her.

  She studied him with her big, blue eyes while her hands clutched her pink skirt. “You’re my Uncle Ian, right? Like Uncle Johann and Uncle Zach?”

  “Aye, lassie. Except I’m yer father’s blood brother.”

  “I’m Darian.” The redhead, dressed in his own MacKay kilt, thumped his chest with his thumb before shoving his hand at Ian.

  “I’m Ian.” He shook the boy’s hand.

  Bonnie stared at him, but she also took a step closer, which boded well. “Da says we should love you, so we’ll try.”

  “As I shall try to love you, lassie.” His tone might’ve been solemn, but a smile lit his face.

  “And me?” Darian asked.

  Ian tousled Darian’s red curls. “And you, laddie.”

  “Go to yer Ma,” Artair said. “’Tis time to eat.”

  Both children moved at their father’s command, but they kept glancing back at Ian, clearly fascinated with the newest person in Avalon. They sat at a small table with Megan’s daughter, Mina, and were soon talking and laughing.

  The brothers bowed to each other, a formal greeting they’d no doubt kept from days long gone. Then Artair ushered Rebecca to their places while Ian led Sarita to the empty place settings at the middle of the table.

  Tucking the train of her blue sari out of the way, Sarita let Ian help her into her chair. He sat at her side—the happy bride and groom.

  As everyone else took their seats, Beagan and Dolan hurried to fill champagne glasses and pass the platters of food around. Once everyone was eating, they piled their own plates high and sat at the table with the children.

  After the feast—which left Sarita so full she feared her waistband would pop—Rebecca tapped her spoon against her full champagne flute.

  The jovial conversation came to a sputtering halt.

  “I have a toast.” She raised her glass as everyone followed suit. “To Ian and Sarita. May you live long lives and be blessed with a house full of mischievous children.” She drank, as did the others.

  Beagan and Dolan approached cautiously, each hiding something behind his back.

  Sarita crooked her finger at them. They smiled and drew closer.

  “We have gifts,” Beagan announced.

  “For both of you,” Dolan added.

  “You’ve done so much already,” she replied. To Ian she said, “This is Beagan, and this is Dolan.”

  “We’ve met.”

  “Oh, yeah... When we arrived. I imagine my sisters did most of the decorating. But the food? That was all these two miracle workers.”

  Leaning down, Sarita grabbed Dolan’s face and kissed his forehead before giving the same tribute to Beagan. The changelings blushed furiously and stared at their shoes.

  “’Twas a wondrous feast,” Ian said. “One of the best I’ve eaten. Thank you for honoring us on our wedding day.” He bowed low to the little men.

  They shoved their boxes at the couple.

  Sarita opened her lid. “How beautiful!”

  She lifted a white gold ring from the box just as Ian did the same.

  “Such miracle workers.” Ian nodded at the changelings. “Thank ye for answering my wish.”

  He took Sarita’s left hand and slid the ring on her finger.

  Smiling in happiness, she returned the favor. Then she crouched to hug first Dolan and then Beagan as Ian patted their shoulders.

  Both changelings shifted into rabbits and hopped out of the lodge.

  Sarita laughed, the sound quickly echoed by her sisters.

  “Did I frighten them?” he asked.

  “No. More like embarrassed them. They don’t take compliments well.”

  His gaze followed the path they’d taken. “Donnae they need protection? Are there predators near? Wolves, perhaps?”

  Taking his hand, she led him back to their seats. “Not in Avalon. They’re safe here.”

  Megan carried over a plate with a large slice of cake and set it down in front of Ian. “Time for a few wedding rituals.” She glanced back. “Everyone, bring your glasses. Joeman? Can you please grab that bottle of champagne?”

  “If I drink anymore champagne, I’m going to need help getting home,” Gina said. “Zach and I finished the better part of a bottle already.”

  Zach wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. Then he planted a kiss on her lips that was probably too passionate, considering their company.

  When he pulled back, he smiled. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

  Sarita laughed, feeling Gina’s happiness—the same happiness radiating from Rebecca and Megan—a contentment Sarita now shared i
n her own life instead of vicariously.

  Johann refilled all the glasses then put the bottle aside. Megan raised her glass.

  “And now,” she said, “our wedding wishes to you both. To the happy couple—I wish you more smiles than tears.”

  “I wish you both long life,” Rebecca added, tipping her glass to the couple.

  Then Gina offered her toast. “And my wish is for you to always be as in love as you are today.”

  The clink of glasses was followed by a deafening explosion from the courtyard that shattered the windows of the lodge, sending glass raining to the floor.

  “Sarita Neeraj!” A familiar voice screamed.

  Helen.

  “Come to me or everyone in Avalon dies!”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sarita’s first reaction was to grab Ian by the arm and drag him to the floor, where she threw herself on top of him.

  The MacKays and Hermanns had hurried to the children, who had been taught long ago to be as quiet as mice whenever Avalon was under attack. Silence was the first rule for everyone until they knew the nature of the threat.

  Gina and Zach had hit the deck too far down the aisle for Sarita to talk to her sister. Her mental calls when unanswered, causing more panic to race through her.

  Sarita crawled off Ian and signaled to Gina. From the time they’d trained as Amazons, they’d learned to communicate with hand signals and their telepathic link. Since one was lost, she used the other.

  The last time Avalon was invaded, Helen had caught them unprepared. After that, Artair and Johann drilled new protocol into the Amazons’ heads.

  They were more than ready this time. Even the children knew what to do—they were already crawling to the trap door in the corner.

  “We should protect the children,” Ian whispered.

  “They’re heading to the safe room beneath the floor of the lodge. Beagan and Dolan will be there soon. They always protect the children.”

  “Those tiny men?”

  “They can combine themselves into a Sasquatch.”

  “A what?”

  She growled her impatience before remembering Ian couldn’t possibly know what she was talking about. “They become a monster.”

  “Then send that monster after Helen.”

  “They can only be a Sasquatch to protect people they love, not for an attack or to protect themselves.”

  “Come out!” Helen shouted again. “I have a present for you, Sarita! Come and claim it or everyone here dies!”

  The hair on the back of Sarita’s neck prickled.

  Artair was the only person armed, his sword constantly sheathed at his side. He rose to his knees, drew it and handed it to Rebecca. Then he kept his head low and headed toward the arsenal, Johann close behind. Zach had moved closer to the women. He crouched near the door with Gina and Megan as Sarita and Ian made their way over.

  They needed to plan their attack, but Sarita had to know Ian was in a safe spot first.

  “Go to the bunker with the kids and keep your head down,” she ordered. She pointed to the trap door in the floor that Bonnie was holding open while Mina and Darian crawled inside.

  “Nay,” he replied. “I’ll not disappear into some hidey hole. I must face her too.”

  “No, jaanu. No.”

  “I’m a man—I’ll nae hide with the bairns. I intend to fight at your side.”

  “You’re a mortal, and if you take on Helen, you’ll die.”

  “Then wouldn’t you die too?”

  “Your life is tied to mine, not vice-versa. Just stay safe and let me do my job.”

  “Sarita—”

  She didn’t have time to argue with him, and she doubted it would do any good anyway. “Then go help Artair and Johann get our weapons and grab yourself a sword. You can watch our backs. Okay?”

  An argument was in his eyes, but he nodded and hurried after the Sentinels.

  Sarita kept her head low and dropped down beside her sisters and Zach.

  “Any ideas?” Rebecca asked.

  “I wish we knew where she was,” Gina said. “Guesses?”

  “My guess is the climbing tower,” Sarita answered. “She’ll want to be able to see everything going on in the compound.”

  “She’ll be looking for Sarita,” Rebecca said. “But you know damn well she wants to kill us all. How did she get into Avalon?”

  “Her followers, I’ll bet,” Zach replied. “Johann and I have been watching the news networks. She made a big call for all her followers to head to their temples and pray for her to have strength, like she was sick or something. They were all worried she might be dying. It had to be a ruse to give her the power to come here.”

  “Oh, goddess...” Sarita’s heart was pounding so hard she could barely think. “You don’t think there were more human sacrifices, do you?”

  Zach shrugged. “Wouldn’t put it past her.”

  Rebecca’s gaze caught Sarita’s. “Even without sacrifices, the prayers will make her stronger.”

  “If she has every follower sending her worship,” Gina added, “we’ll never have the strength to kill her.”

  “Maybe not,” Rebecca said, “but we can at least get her ass out of Avalon, have Rhiannon shift the location again and put up a stronger shield. I won’t have my children in danger.”

  “If she’ll help us,” Zach said in a cynical tone. Not surprising after all the warnings that the goddesses were out of this fight.

  Sarita tried again to connect with Gina telepathically. She groaned in frustration. “The goddesses have truly abandoned us. Could be why I suddenly can’t reach any of you with my thoughts.”

  Gina gave her a curt nod. “Same thing I was thinking.”

  “What do you think Helen’s surprise is?” Megan asked.

  “I’m afraid to find out,” Sarita replied. “Let me go out first. Once I see where she is, I can signal information to Gina. Then you’ll know where to put Zach so he can bind Helen.”

  “I’m not letting you go out there alone,” Gina insisted.

  “All I have to do is keep her focused on me while you all get ready.”

  “What if she throws something wicked at you? Fireballs...or lightning?” Megan asked. “Can you hold them off?”

  “I think so.” Sarita wasn’t sure of the extent of her new powers, yet she was sure she could raise some kind of defense against any weapon Helen tried to use. Already, the white magicks made her feel stronger and more confident—almost giddy with the anticipation of kicking Helen’s ass. “Pretty sure I’ll be okay.”

  “Pretty sure?” Rebecca asked. “I’ve faced her before, Sarita—and I was a goddess at the time. She’s damned powerful.”

  “I can do this,” Sarita retorted. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just know I can hold a defense. I can block anything she tosses my way.”

  “Not like we have a choice,” Zach added. He flexed his fingers. “Let’s do this. I’m itching to tie that bitch up.”

  The final call was the Guardian’s. Rebecca studied Sarita intently, most likely trying to re-establish their mental link. Then, with a sigh, she nodded. “Keep her occupied as long as you can. Gina will get Zach in place and protect him while he binds Helen. Megan and I will guard your back.”

  “With these,” Johann said, setting several weapons next to them.

  Artair added to the pile, handing Rebecca a sword and a dagger.

  Sarita pulled out a sword. Her sari would make it difficult to move, especially if she had to run.

  Ian flopped down next to her then pressed a dirk into her hand. “Try this.”

  She sliced through the silk until her sari was a miniskirt.

  “Ian, you stay close to Artair,” she ordered.

 
; “Last chance, Sarita!” Helen’s voice boomed loud enough to make the windows shake. “Come out now or else!”

  When Sarita tried to rise from her crouch, Ian grabbed her arm. “Watch yerself, loving.” He cupped her neck and pulled her close for a quick, hard kiss.

  She glanced at each of her sisters and got to her feet.

  Confidence washed over her as she strode out of the lodge. “I’m here, Helen.”

  She’d been right—Helen stood atop the climbing tower. At least she thought it was Helen. The figure looming above the courtyard was draped in a black robe, reminding Sarita so much of the stereotypical portrayal of Death, she shuddered.

  Did benandantas have premonitions? Because all she could think of was Death had come to Avalon...

  “So. You are brave enough to face me.” The confidence in Helen’s voice didn’t shake Sarita’s confidence. “I had my doubts.”

  “You don’t scare me, Helen.”

  “Today is a good day for you to die,” Helen said, sending a cold chill racing the length of Sarita’s spine.

  “Yeah, well...I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon, so how about you show me your surprise and get the hell out of Avalon. I don’t suppose you noticed we don’t have a welcome mat out—especially for you.”

  Without being able to see Helen’s face, Sarita couldn’t make any guess over what she was thinking or feeling.

  A bundle that resembled a rolled up Persian rug rested at Helen’s feet—no doubt the promised surprise. Sarita wasn’t in any hurry to see it. Judging from the size, Helen had brought a revenant along to create havoc. Once her sisters were in place, then she could tell Helen to go ahead and let her freak flag fly.

  For now, she needed to keep her occupied.

  “Why the robe?” Sarita asked. “Did you get tired of trying to imitate Rhiannon and decide to go all Jedi on us?”

  Thunder rumbled and storm clouds gathered. “How dare you compare me to her!”

  Sarita had been right all along—Helen was jealous of Rhiannon. She stank of envy, and the way she copied all of Rhiannon’s mannerisms—even wearing her style of clothing—screamed that Helen wanted to be equal to the Lady of the Lake. “Hard to compare you to anyone right now. What’s with the robe?”