Through a Crimson Veil

by Patti O'Shea

  He loved her.

  That was why he’d insisted she bond with him. Not because of the power-sharing, but because he’d wanted her tied to him in every way possible. If they were bonded, she might walk out and leave him, but she could never allow any other male to touch her while he was alive. It had been selfish as hell—and he’d do it again and again, because she was his. She always had been. And he was hers—heart, mind, body and soul.

  The Bak-Faru and the auric assassins broke into another argument. Each blamed the other pair for the failure of their attack—or at least to take out Conor’s shield.

  An assassin fired at the dark-haired Bak-Faru, and another mini-battle ensued. This time, Conor and Mika didn’t have the option of attempting to slip away; they were trapped against the building and their foes were too close.

  Despite the situation, Conor had the weird urge to grin. Mika was his woman. His mate. His world. Finally, he had someone who loved and accepted him. Someone who wasn’t afraid of his nature or his temper. Someone who wasn’t cowed by his distance. Hell, Mika was someone who refused to allow distance between them.

  Now that he’d figured out how much he loved her, he was damned if either one of them was going to die. Not tonight, not until they were old and had shared a lifetime.

  He reached for Mika. Kissing her, he tried to mesh their souls. That damn obstruction remained. And yet…he suddenly saw that it was insubstantial, and he ripped through it easily. Conor felt her surprise; then Mika welcomed him. And as her love surrounded him, he knew he’d found completion.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Mika wanted to wrap her arms around Conor and hold him forever. She felt his crushing loneliness—and she felt his quiet relief as it ended. Something had happened to make him trust her, to make him open up, but she was damned if she knew what.

  They’d have to talk. Later. Right now, they had four enemies who were still dangerous, even if high emotion had them acting stupidly. She needed to figure out how to share McCabe’s shield, and to tap into some of his other magic, then they could go on the offensive and stop cowering in this damn corner.

  At first, it was…awkward. There was some stumbling around before it clicked and she had his protection around her. The rest of his powers—well, she’d figure those out later. “Let’s go kick some butt.” Mika smiled. “Then we can go home and have hot, adrenaline-charged demon sex.”

  He shook his head, seeming amused despite himself. “Are you sure you can hold the shield?” he asked.

  If he wasn’t so sweet, she would have rolled her eyes—he still had to learn to trust her competence. But she appreciated his concern. “I’ve got it, I promise. If you’re ready, let’s go before they remember they’re here to fight us, not each other.”

  Conor grabbed her arm before she could race past. “That shield doesn’t make you invincible,” he reminded her.

  “I know. I’m the one who keeps telling you that.”

  He growled, a low, demonic sound. Poor McCabe. She frustrated him endlessly, and no doubt, would continue to do so for the rest of their lives.

  Shaking his head, he said, “Don’t send any energy toward the assassins—they’ll collect it and use it later. And don’t—”

  An arc of fire from one of the Setonians stopped him short. “Any more instructions?” she asked sweetly.

  “To hell with it. If you run into trouble, yell.” And with that, McCabe shouted some kind of battle cry and rushed forward, leaving Mika flat-footed. Cursing, she chased after him.

  The blond Bak-Faru threw a ball of energy at her. It hit dead-on, stopping her for a second. Mika didn’t know which of them was more surprised that it didn’t cause any damage, her or the Dark One, but she recovered first. After directing a whirlwind toward her assailant and his buddy, she glanced over at Conor. He’d taken on the Setonians, leaving the Bak-Faru to her.

  A side of her mouth quirked up. She knew why McCabe had zeroed in on the auric assassins. If she couldn’t use her powers against them, then that fight came down to sheer brute force, and as with humans, demon males were stronger than the females. The Bak-Faru were more appropriate for her to handle.

  And he obviously believed she could do it.

  “Haven’t you learned any new tricks?” the golden-haired demon asked. She still couldn’t get over how gorgeous he was. Evil shouldn’t be so pretty.

  “I’m Mahsei. I have to work with what I’ve got,” she replied. At least, she had to work with her own powers until she figured out how to use some of Conor’s.

  The other dark demon, the one with dark hair, growled low in his throat and muttered a complaint about too much talking. He shot a fireball at her.

  Mika started to duck, then remembered she was protected. It was an odd experience, one that held her enthralled. The energy hit her and evaporated, while she stood in a tranquil bubble. The intensity of the assault and her own shield astounded her.

  Conor had spoken of absorbing the power, of being able to use it later, so if she could collect this, she could do amazing things. Mika tried gathering it—and it worked! A short laugh of exuberance escaped her before she could stop it, and that pissed off the blond demon. He cast more magic at her, which she also added to her energy stores.

  How cool was this? And she doubted McCabe even gave a second thought to the talent.

  It was almost a disappointment when the Bak-Faru quit blasting her. She had a great deal of their power, and once she figured out how to gain access, she was going to use it. Mika grinned. Damn, this was almost fun—or it would be if the stakes weren’t so high.

  Quickly, she glanced over at McCabe—he was holding his own, even two-on-one—then movement jerked her attention back to her own foes. The pretty blond was rushing her.

  Mika shifted her feet so that her weight was evenly balanced, and braced herself. She didn’t have the smooth moves of a martial artist, but her dad had taught her some down-and-dirty street fighting. Just in case. She doubted the dark demon had an equal amount of skill. For one thing, he’d attacked openly, giving her time to prepare, and for another, the way he charged made her think of a frat boy spotting a keg. He likely was used to killings that were much easier than this.

  When he reached her, she easily deflected him with a forearm and, hooking her foot behind his ankle, pushed hard, tumbling him to the ground. Mika jumped back, evading the fist he aimed at her knee.

  As he started to climb to his feet, she took a couple of running steps forward and, with the full momentum of her body, kicked him in the groin. The noise he made was like nothing she’d heard before from either human or demon. The blond Bak-Faru collapsed back on the street and curled into the fetal position.

  But, demons recovered more quickly than humans, and Mika couldn’t risk him rejoining the brawl. She hesitated, cringing at the thought, but it was life or death, and she couldn’t play nice. Down-and-dirty, she reminded herself. And with her eyes open only enough to aim, she let loose with a roundhouse kick to Blondie’s temple. His head whipped to the side and he went limp. It was hard to hide her reaction, but she couldn’t display weakness, and that was how remorse would be viewed.

  Mika turned her attention to the other dark demon. She’d expected him to jump in and double-team her as she’d fought his partner, but he hadn’t. He stood nearby and appeared amused, as if he were watching a show. There might be some tension between the two Bak-Faru, and maybe she could exploit that.

  Before she could figure out how, though, he moved.

  Not normally, however—he teleported. It was a talent she had never seen before, and he went from twenty feet away to directly in front of her. His blow to the side of her head was hard enough to make her vision go black.

  Instinctually she ducked and wove, backing out of range until she could see again and fight. As she retreated, Mika’s heel hit the curb and she stumbled. That clumsiness saved her life. The Bak-Faru’s second blow would have broken her neck—if he’d landed it cleanly. Instead, her s
udden stagger threw off his aim, and while her shoulder hurt like hell, she was alive to complain. This Dark One was adept at hand-to-hand.

  Her vision was back but blurry, and she blinked a few times to clear it. Mika half-expected to see Conor bearing down with murder in his eyes, protecting her, but it was just her and the dark-haired Bak-Faru. A glance to her left showed McCabe had his own trouble.

  The Dark One took her by surprise. Instead of another physical move, an incredibly intense arc of fire erupted around her. Instinctively she flinched, but her shield held.

  He moved close enough for her to kick. She knew he’d be expecting her to aim for his crotch, so she delivered a thigh kick instead, her shin striking four inches above his knee. Her dad would be proud—it was the ideal place to land the blow.

  But Mika didn’t stop. While her opponent was recovering, she moved closer and brought her arms up. With one hand protecting her face, she delivered an elbow to his temple. It snapped his head back, and she caught him in the other temple with her opposite elbow.

  Certain he was reeling, Mika made the move for his groin, but he turned in time to evade. The force of her kick sent her staggering, trying to regain her balance, and the Dark One came for her throat. Bringing her forearm up, she knocked his hand away and took a swing. She grazed him, but didn’t manage the blow she wanted.

  “Aren’t you going to taunt me?” she jibed. Maybe she could rile him, cause him to lose his temper and make a mistake. “Or are you too busy concentrating on being beaten by a weaker demon?”

  The Dark One sneered. “You can do no better than that, Mahsei? Your verbal jabs are as feeble as your magic.”

  They circled each other, each looking for an opening. “I guess I haven’t watched enough WWE,” she joked. That earned her a blank look. “Professional wrestling,” she explained. He didn’t understand and she shrugged. “Guess you don’t get out of Orcus much.” Then she laughed, mocking him. There was a flash in his eyes as the comment struck home. She continued, “Luckily, I can come and go as I please. I don’t have to wait for a human to call me forth, don’t have to make pacts with them or owe them any favors. Not like you.”

  The Bak-Faru’s eyes were glowing now and Mika knew she was on the right track. “I could push you back through the gate and you’d be trapped in the Other World again. For all your great powers, you’re as helpless as the weakest of demons when it comes to the veil.” She laughed derisively. “What’s your debt to the human that summoned you?”

  She kicked out, aiming for his thigh, but he jumped back in time and it was nothing but a glancing blow.

  “We killed them,” he growled, his voice ferocious. “And ate their hearts.”

  It was supposed to scare her; instead, Mika laughed. “Poor Bak-Faru. Who’s going to call you out next time now that your stooges are dead?”

  Red burned in his eyes, and Mika blocked his next assault with her forearm, preventing the dark demon from striking her with the heel of his hand. They returned to circling each other.

  He snarled, “It’s unnecessary. The veil is coming down—if not by your Kiverian half-breed, then because of our alternate plan. There will be no need to summon me or any other of the Bak-Faru—Earth belongs to us, and we will rule it again as we did before our imprisonment.”

  Mika rolled her eyes. “That’s quite a speech, but I don’t see any walls down yet. Demons have tried since the beginning to free themselves, and haven’t succeeded. Your second plan is surely nothing more than another Bak-Faru joke.”

  Mika whirled away from his lunge. The Dark One was seriously pissed, and out for her blood. Her idea of enraging him had seemed smarter before she’d succeeded.

  Suddenly, he disappeared.

  Mika froze…and figured out what he was up to a few seconds too late. He’d transported himself directly behind her. His hands went around her throat, and his fingers tightened. She brought her own hand up, trying to wedge her fingers between her neck and his grip, but his hold was too secure. Swinging her elbow back didn’t work, either. He was too far away from her and, because of his strength, the Dark One didn’t need to use his body as leverage to strangle her.

  With no good physical response, she had to call on her magic. Now seemed like a good time to work out how to use the energy she’d collected. As her vision began to dim, she decided to go with instinct. She had nothing to lose.

  Mika thickened the air molecules around the dark demon, pressing them in on him. Gathering the power she’d amassed, she used that to intensify her own talent. She visualized the heavy oxygen atoms wedging in his lungs, crushing the delicate cells. She pictured the air outside his body pushing with the weight of the entire planet against his chest. Holding those images firmly in her mind, she directed her power to carry them out.

  The dark demon released her, and Mika fell to her hands and knees, gasping for breath. Her throat burned as if she’d swallowed a blazing sword, but she didn’t let up on the Dark One. Not until she heard yelling. One of the voices belonged to Conor.

  McCabe. She had to check on McCabe.

  Mika tried to raise her head, but it was heavier than her neck could lift. Gray mist obscured her vision, and she forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply.

  Gradually, her eyesight began to clear and she gained enough strength to search for Conor. He appeared bloodied, but he was on his feet and he was still holding his own. Good. She needed a few more minutes before she could stand. She coughed violently and her stomach heaved. Mika swallowed hard, not wanting to vomit all over herself. Okay, maybe it would take more than a few minutes.

  She hoped the dark demon was dead, since he hadn’t attacked again, but she knew she had to find out. Bracing herself, she turned until she saw him. Yep, he was dead. His chest was caved in.

  Mika’s stomach heaved again. Looking away, she did some more deep breathing—and some more hacking. She’d never killed anyone before, had never even tried, and she wanted to cry. Intellectually, she accepted that he would have strangled her without a second thought, that it was either kill or be killed, but emotionally…Well, it was going to take some time to come to terms with this.

  Thinking of what she’d done reminded her to check on the dark one that she’d kicked. She lurched over to him, and looked down. He was still out, and given the speed with which demons healed, that surprised her a bit. She couldn’t have…

  Mika stared at his chest, but she didn’t see it move. She tried to crouch beside him, but was unsteady enough that she ended up on her hands and knees. Tentatively, she reached for his throat, searching for his pulse. She couldn’t find one.

  Before she could double-check, she heard a triumphant shout and looked up. The Setonians had knocked Mc-Cabe down.

  Her heart in her throat, Mika lurched to her feet. This wasn’t good. He was vulnerable, prone. Anger bolstered her strength, and she ran toward her mate, intent on helping him. No powers, not against these guys, but they weren’t paying any attention to her. Mika adjusted her angle and lined up to strike one of the assassins.

  When she reached him, she let fly with a roundhouse kick. She caught the Setonian under his ribs, and his response was immediate—he flew off Conor and didn’t get up. She gave a cry of victory. No one hurt her vishtau mate without paying a price—not while she was able to defend him!

  Mika turned her attention to the second auric assassin, but he’d thrown himself at McCabe. The two were rolling around on the ground, each trying to keep on top.

  She was caught up in watching the fight, willing McCabe to take out the demon, when she sensed motion. The first Setonian was headed back for her.

  Despite the damage from the kick she’d delivered, the assassin still had the advantage. He outweighed her by a good seventy pounds, and he was close to Conor in height, which made him about half a foot taller. And he had training. The Setonian was a hired killer—he’d know many different fighting methods and be adept at them.

  He sent a burst of flame at her. It didn
’t last long. His facial expression didn’t change—not really—but something told her he’d figured out that she was sharing McCabe’s powers.

  The Setonian moved in. He didn’t grab her—that would allow her some leverage. Instead, he took a swing. Mika ducked, but it was a close call.

  His eyes were flat, sober, and held no glow. He was deadly serious, and she doubted he would allow himself to be taunted into precipitous action or distraction. Mika tried to take the offensive, but he countered her every strike. She almost ended up on the ground, and knew she couldn’t risk that. She dodged and weaved to avoid his blows. If he connected, if he knocked her down, she was finished. He wouldn’t hesitate to go for the kill.

  But she couldn’t continue to dance around. Conor was locked in his own fight, and she couldn’t count on his help anytime soon. She had to save herself. The question was how. If she tried to wield her powers against the assassin, he could amass the energy and use it against her.

  Mika took a punch to her side, not quite able to get out of the way in time, and wheezed as the air was driven from her lungs. Air. That was her area of mastery. She couldn’t direct her powers at him, but what if she worked on the oxygen outside his shield? He had to breathe.

  Estimating how far his protective bubble went, Mika started altering the molecules around it. Delving into the pool of power she shared with McCabe, she stripped the air until it held so little oxygen, no living thing could survive. Around those atoms, she created a dense wall to keep the thin air encapsulating the Setonian.

  At first, her foe didn’t understand what was happening. She saw his confusion, but he continued trying to reach her. Only, the more effort he put out, the faster he used up his oxygen.

  “Mahsei. Air and wind,” he realized.

  The words were soft, forced out between gasps, but she heard them. And now that he knew she was responsible, Mika prepared herself, ready for whatever he tried.

  His choice was unexpected. Since Conor had been so unconcerned about the auric blast, she’d assumed his shield held against it—yet that was the weapon he chose to level at her. He fell to his knees, but she sensed him continuing to call on his power. Mika glanced over at McCabe, but he and the other demon were busy. Cautiously, she backed away.