by Ann Gimpel
“We might actually get a few things done in Fairbanks.” Jenna tipped the last of her coffee into her mouth and gathered wrappers. “May as well ditch our trash since we’re still here. This isn’t quite all of it, but good enough.” She got out of the car and jogged to a nearby garbage can.
Once she was back inside, Colleen started the car, rolled into a gas station right next door, and filled the tank. She turned their plan around in her mind, hunting for flaws. Once they were headed north again, she said, “The only possible glitch is if the ferry doesn’t have room.”
“Or maybe finding someone to move the car from the Bellingham ferry in Ketchikan to the one that goes into Haines,” Jenna said.
“Maybe we can, um, persuade them,” Roz said. Colleen glanced in the rearview mirror; the other witch was grinning.
“If they’re full, do you expect they’ll simply offload someone else’s car into the Pacific?” Colleen asked.
“If I ask nicely, that’s exactly what they’ll do.” Roz sounded smug.
“Enough.” Jenna’s tone was sharp, but Colleen knew her well enough to understand she was worried. “Coming up with a game plan for the car was a piece of cake. What are we going to do about the Irichna? And about having alienated Mathilde?”
Bubba looked up from his breakfast. “When those other witches raced out and grabbed her, it didn’t look like they agreed with her.”
“No, it sure didn’t.” Colleen worried her lower lip between her teeth. “I was surprised she allowed them to herd her.”
“She’s very old and very powerful,” Roz said. “Strong enough to flatten that entire house and everyone in it.”
“Her witches probably know that,” Colleen murmured, “which is why they won’t even attempt to corral her with magic.”
“What will they do?” Bubba crumpled the paper that had held his sandwich and threw in on the floor.
“Pick that up and put it in the trash bag, honey,” Colleen told him.
“The other witches were giving us a chance to get out of there,” Jenna said.
“Probably so,” Colleen agreed. “Once they sensed we were gone, I’m sure they stopped humoring Mathilde and turned her loose.”
“Which means she could be waiting for us in Fairbanks,” Roz pointed out, voice sour.
Colleen hadn’t considered that, but it made sense. Mathilde had been close to apoplectic. For one witch to send killing magic after another for any infraction, let alone something as minor as not moving quite quickly enough, was unheard of. “Not much we can do about it,” she said.
“Damn straight,” Roz cut in. “I’m not going to let her, or anyone else, run me out of my home or my business.”
“Why would she know where the house is?” Bubba asked.
“Good thinking. She wouldn’t.” Colleen jumped on the changeling’s question. “She could always track us with magic, but she’s never been there.”
“We can surround the place with an invisibility spell,” Jenna mumbled, “so long as we get there first.”
“All righty.” Colleen glanced at a passing highway sign that said Bellingham was another twenty miles. “That’ll be our first order of business, once we get rid of the car. It’ll freak the neighbors out, but what the hell.”
“What the hell, indeed.” Roz chortled. “They think we’re odder than a flock of geese in the dead of winter as it is.”
Chapter Ten
“What do you mean she’s not here?” Duncan thundered. He stuffed his booted foot in the front door of the Witches’ Northwest headquarters to discourage the male witch on the other side from slamming it in his face.
“She and the other two, and their creature, left early this morning.” The witch kept his voice mild. Duncan sensed a placating spell beneath the words. “Please.” The slightly built man bent toward him, talking low. Brown hair chopped to uneven lengths fell over his hazel eyes. He looked truly young, maybe not much over eighteen.
“Please what?” Duncan matched the witch’s muted tones.
“Things are a little difficult just now. It would be best if you left before Mathilde—”
“Oh no you don’t,” a strident female voice called from somewhere upstairs. “Mistress said she was particularly interested in the Sidhe if he came back.” Footsteps sounded on the risers.
Duncan drew his boot out of the way and moved off to one side. The male witch nodded tersely and pushed the door closed. His words, “It’s not what you think,” would have been muffled by the thick, glass-fronted door, but Duncan had exceptional hearing.
“What do you mean, it’s not what I think?” the woman demanded. “I sense Sidhe magic.”
“Well, I don’t. You must be mistaken, Adrienne.”
Duncan pulled invisibility about himself and settled in to eavesdrop. Something happened here after Colleen returned around dawn. He wanted to know what it was.
The male witch went on, “It wasn’t the Sidhe. It was just the religious right hawking pamphlets. They’ve somehow decided we’re evil incarnate.” Adrienne brayed laughter.
Understanding what the young male was trying to do, Duncan intercepted bits of his spell and added to it. The youngster’s work was far from elegant, but the other witch didn’t realize she was being hornswoggled.
“How’s Mistress doing?” the male asked.
“Eh. So-so. She’s gotten over her snit from this morning, but she just doesn’t seem like herself.”
“Not to me, either.” The male witch paused a beat. “I’m pretty new here. Do you have any idea what’s wrong?”
Adrienne exhaled breathily and murmured. “Not exactly, but things began changing several months ago when she developed a fascination with the Irichna. At first, she talked about joining up with the trio from Alaska to hunt them, but that didn’t last long.”
“Curious.”
“That’s one word,” Adrienne said. “The one I’d pick, though, is disturbing. We’re all bound to obey Mathilde. I’ve known her for over twenty years, and it feels like she’s lost her mind. In my worst moments, I think she’s in league with the demons.”
“Possessed?” The male witch’s voice was a hoarse, horrified whisper.
“Possibly, but don’t breathe a word. Her magic is so strong it’s scary. If she’s not one hundred percent on top of things, she could do huge amounts of damage.”
“Maybe I’ll come up with a plausible excuse,” the male witch said a bit shakily. “Leave for a while…”
“Hmph. Not a bad idea. Perhaps I’ll join you. Mathilde has the right to kill us if we’re accused of breaking any major tenets of the covenant. That could be a problem if she starts seeing things that aren’t there. You should have heard her this morning. She actually attacked one of the Alaska witches. The one with long, reddish hair.”
Duncan stopped breathing. He balled his hands into fists. If Mathilde had harmed Colleen, he’d teleport into the building, track her down, and tear her limb from limb. Consequences be damned. He’d sort them out later.
“Aw, crap! Did she get hurt?” the male witch asked.
“Not hardly. She fought back. Told Mathilde off, gathered the others, and the bunch of ’em hightailed it out of here.”
Thank the goddess. Duncan shook his head. Colleen was strong, courageous, and resourceful, but still… If something hideous happened to her because he wasn’t by her side, he’d never forgive himself. A sense of calm descended, welcome counterpoint to the welter of confusing feelings he’d battled since walking into Colleen’s shop two days before. In that moment he knew what he needed to do. There wasn’t any rush, but he’d track Titania down again, tell her he was mated to a mortal, and let the chips fall where they would. He wasn’t quite sure what the process was to sever him from his immortality, but he’d do whatever he had to.
Colleen was worth it.
A smile tugged at his lips. Now all I have to do is get her to say yes.
He walked briskly down the steps, still shrouded in invisib
ility. Where would the women have gone? Supposedly, there were Irichnas nearby. Would they have gone after them? He stopped in the shadow of a stand of evergreens across from the Victorian that housed Witches’ Northwest and sent tracking magic tumbling outward.
He followed it back across the street to a parking lot behind the Coven’s building, which probably meant the women left in a car. Roz must have arrived that way; it made sense they wouldn’t want to abandon her vehicle. Duncan tried to imagine what he’d do in Colleen’s place.
“Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t chase down some demon to please Mathilde,” he muttered. “Not after she laid into me.”
Anger simmered. Part of him still wanted to storm Coven headquarters, solve the problem of what was wrong with Mathilde, and kick her from here to Faerie. But a bigger part wanted to find Colleen. Had the women decided to return to Fairbanks? It had to be better than two thousand miles. Quite a car trip for beings who could teleport and be there in minutes.
Something caught his attention. It was subtle, just a whiff of evil, but he stopped in his tracks, and warded himself more tightly. Was it a demon? Or Danu forbid, two of them? Before his experience yesterday, he would scarcely have noticed the faint miasma eddying in the air.
If it is a demon, what the hell do I do? Assuming I can even corral the thing, will the gatekeeper let me into Hell?
Duncan slipped between two lobes of an elaborate hedge system fronting a mansion, and borrowed plant energy to mask his own. He sent a stealthy tendril of magic toward where he’d felt the wrongness. It was definitely there, and much stronger this time. Worse, at least one hapless mortal was snared in whatever trap the demon—or demons—had set.
I have to do something. Walking away would be wrong.
He activated a telepathic version of 911, and prayed to whoever might be listening that there’d be at least one Sidhe close enough to help.
“For the love of Danu, what is it?” A female voice, thick with annoyance, sounded in his mind.
Duncan identified himself and outlined his problem, before asking who’d responded to his summons. “Andraste,” the Celtic goddess of victory announced. That one word held such a patronizing note, Duncan winced, but the goddess wasn’t done. “I fail to see why you bothered me. We do not meddle in mortal affairs. In case you’ve forgotten, neither do the Sidhe.”
“That’s normally true.” Duncan chose his words with care. “If we don’t do something, the Irichna will overrun Earth. This has gotten bigger than just a mortals’ problem. It belongs to all of us.”
Andraste was silent so long, he feared she’d severed their mind link. He readied himself to approach the demons and their prey, when he felt Celtic energy pulse near him. Duncan let go of the invisibility cloaking him just as Andraste’s form materialized. Taller than him, she was built like an Amazon warrior, with broad shoulders and slim hips. Her long, blonde hair was braided into two plaits to keep it out of the way. She might have been beautiful, but for the severe planes of her ageless face. Her sharp, blue gaze nailed him. “This grates against my better judgment, yet I am here.”
“Thank you for heeding my call.” Duncan bowed formally. “I had hoped for another Sidhe. That you are here is a gift, since you are much stronger than any of us.”
Andraste rolled her eyes. “Pretty words from a pretty man.” She stared at him with evident interest, and licked her lips. A predatory grin spread over her face. “Once we have bested this demon, we shall spend a bit of time together.”
It hadn’t been a question, but now wasn’t the time to tell her his heart belonged to another. It might piss her off and Duncan needed her help. “Maybe so, my lady.” He bowed again.
“Heh! A spot of motivation to get this over with.” Andraste’s nose twitched. She craned her neck in one direction, then another. “The demon is that way.” She tilted her head.
“I know. We need a plan. Do you think there might be two of them?”
The goddess eyed him as if he had the intelligence of a kumquat. “I shall immobilize the demon—and I sensed only one—for a short time. You rescue the human.” She dusted her hands together. “Game over. We go home.”
Duncan felt appalled, but tried to mask his concern. “The demon will just move on to the next likely human.”
Andraste blew out a breath. “By then, you won’t be near enough to rescue whoever is stupid enough to fall into the Irichna’s trap.” She shook her head, temper obviously on a very short tether. “It’s damned difficult to get rid of any variety of demon, but Irichna are the absolute worst. Sorry, but I don’t have time for a trip to Hell today.”
Guess I’ll take what I can get. Duncan clamped his jaws together. “Lead out.”
“We go together. It’s impossible to sneak up on a demon, so we’ll storm the wards it’s hiding behind.”
Duncan hadn’t considered a direct, frontal attack. “Will we have enough juice to blow right through its wards?”
She arranged her full lips in a parody of a smile. “I never fail in battle.”
Duncan remembered the Irichna from yesterday, opened his mouth to issue a warning, and shut it again. Surely Andraste had faced demons before. He tightened his warding. “Ready.” An image of their location flashed into his mind. He pulled teleport magic and joined the goddess.
In the moments it took them to get to the demon, Duncan girded himself to be prepared for anything. It didn’t work. Horror filled him at the sight of the Irichna—thank Danu, there was only one—in a cowled black robe, obviously masquerading as a holy man, which was probably how he’d lured his victims. A mockery of a cross sat off to one side, with two crosspieces rather than one, and a live serpent winding its way amongst the staves.
Two youngish teenagers, both female, knelt before the demon, crying, begging, pleading. Blood ran down their faces and dripped to the ground. The air was thick with its coppery smell. Duncan looked closely for wounds and realized the Irichna was draining the girls’ essence through their eyes, which ran red. One of the victims swayed alarmingly, her face paper white. The other put a steadying arm around her friend’s shoulder.
Andraste lunged in front of the demon, hands extended, chanting furiously in Gaelic. It didn’t even slow the creature down. At the shocked look on the goddess’ face, Duncan knew she’d expected the thing to capitulate to her spell. She barked a word and a javelin appeared in one hand. She balanced it for a moment and then threw it at the Irichna. It went right through the demon, opening a hole in his robes, which closed right behind the spear’s passage.
Duncan deployed magic. Maybe if he mixed earth and air with her fire, they might have a chance. Andraste had obviously been in his mind. “Do it,” she hissed. “It’s either that or call in reinforcements, which will turn this into an all-out war.”
The demon threw back its head and laughed. It was an eerie sound, like glass scraping against itself. The cowl dropped away, revealing a face so heartbreakingly beautiful, Duncan had trouble tearing his gaze away. Blue-black hair framed Greek god features. No wonder the Irichna had been able to entice the girls mewling in fear before it. Was this the demon’s true form, or merely another illusion? Ice chips skittered through Duncan’s blood. His mouth was dry, his muscles so tense, they felt like rocks.
“On my count of three,” Andraste shouted. “One, two…”
Duncan gave it all he had. He shoved as much as he could into the goddess’ working. For one long, terrible span of time, he was afraid the best they had wouldn’t be good enough, but then the Irichna’s smoky eyes glazed and it wavered on its feet.
“What are you waiting for?” Andraste swatted him across the back. “Grab those girls and get them out of here. They’re as good as dead, but at least they can die in better company.”
Duncan swept the girls into a teleport spell and moved them to the one place he hoped might save them. Collective gasps surged around him as they materialized in the middle of the University Hospital’s emergency room. With an arm supporting e
ach girl, he pushed through double, swinging doors.
“Sir. Stop! You can’t come back here,” a nurse yelled at him.
Duncan spun toward her and cast an obey me and then forget you ever saw me spell. “Take care of these girls.” He imbued his voice with an impossible to resist sweetness. “They’ve both lost a lot of blood.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
As soon as the nurse had the girls, whose life force was indeed fading, Duncan strode from the hospital churning out forget me spells. He was intent on coffee and a sandwich before heading for Fairbanks, where he hoped he’d find Colleen and the other witches. If they weren’t there, he’d just wait for them in their shop.
Once he’d walked to the absolute rear of a huge parking lot, he glanced about and didn’t see anybody. Satisfaction bit deep. When done properly, forget me spells made people turn the other way. Sucking in a steadying breath, he pictured a small deli in the middle of a quiet neighborhood and hoped for the best. Teleport spells were usually cooperative that way, even if he didn’t have a firm destination in mind, so long as he made his needs clear.
A grove of trees materialized around him. Through their branches, he saw a diner’s neon sign and grinned. The day was going pretty well, all in all. Even though he and Andraste may have not gotten there in time to save the girls—and he wasn’t certain they’d die, hospitals could do amazing things these days—he felt good about what they’d done. And amazed the demon hadn’t gotten to him like the one the previous day.
“That’s because it wasn’t focused on you.” Andraste stepped out of the ether and hooked an arm through his. Duncan choked back astonishment. The goddess laughed heartily. “What? You thought I wouldn’t be able to find you?”
“Uh, I’m not sure I thought anything.” He straightened his shoulders and tried to pull away, but she hung on.
“The Irichna didn’t remain quiescent for long once you left.” She shook her head; furrows creased her brow. “I don’t fully understand why my magic was insufficient to quell the thing.”
“The witches who hunt them believe they’re getting stronger. We believe the same thing.”
