The Shadows

by Cheyenne McCray

  Fredrickson popped his head in the doorway.

  “What?” Jake snapped at the officer.

  With a jerk of his thumb, looking totally unfazed by Jake’s mood, the redheaded Fredrickson gestured behind him. “Marsten needs you in weapons. And it’s not good,” he said before ducking back out of the doorway.

  Jake growled beneath his breath, anger simmering under his skin like fire over kindling. It hadn’t been his fucking day since sometime last September.

  He stormed out of his office, past cubicles of officers packing what they’d need for the move, as he headed to the expanded weapons area.

  “Marsten.” Jake strode into a room with the sharp tang of metal and chemicals in the air. He approached the burly dark-haired cop. “Status.”

  Marsten shook his head. “These demon heart-seeking bullets. We need more military supplies to make them, but they’re giving us hell.”

  “What the f—” Jake ground his teeth. “What’s the problem?”

  Marsten’s expression was dark, furious. “Some military higher-up here in the city is putting a stop to what he considers ‘unnecessary expenses.’ ”

  Jake let out a stream of curses, his entire body wound tight enough that it was a miracle he didn’t really split the seams of his shirt. And this time he came closer to putting his fist through a wall.

  “Ceithlenn’s got something to do with this,” Jake said when he reined back what he could of his temper. “This pretty much proves she’s got Fomorii placed in strategic positions, like we thought.”

  Which was exactly why they’d kept the move to the warehouse secret from anyone outside the PSF. No one could be trusted. The way the demons could take over a human’s body and life—Jake wouldn’t even know if one of his own officers had been compromised.

  Jake drew his Glock from the holster beneath the overshirt. He removed the cartridge loaded with heart-seeking bullets used to fight Fomorii, and slipped out one of the bullets and held it up to the light.

  Using his weaponry knowledge and skills from being Special Ops in the Marines, Jake had designed the bullets and had given the schematics to the weapons lab.

  The bullets were created using a special microchip that detected a demon’s, or even a human’s heartbeat. After hitting its target, the microchip sent a powerful electric current straight to the beating heart, zapping it so hard it exploded.

  Marsten just watched Jake as he looked at the translucent head and studied the red liquid swirling around the microchip. The liquid served as a conductor to make the current even stronger upon impact. Top secret military advances had given the PSF’s weapons labs what they needed to develop the heart-seeking bullets.

  The only way to kill a Fomorii was to blow out its heart or take off its head. Jake and his officers went for the heart and left the beheading to the D’Danann.

  But if they lost their source of materials to make the bullets, Jake and his officers might just have to learn how to take up fighting with swords like those Fae warriors.

  Yeah, and maybe we’ll all sprout wings, too.

  “We have to circumvent law enforcement and military in San Francisco.” Jake managed to keep his voice low and controlled as he returned the bullet to the cartridge and loaded his Glock. “One way or another we’ll obtain what we need.”

  “You’ve got it, Captain.” Marsten took his cell phone from the clip on his belt. “I have a few contacts outside of the city who couldn’t possibly have been near one of the Fomorii.”

  “Do it.” Jake left the room and headed toward his own office. Familiar smells hit him—old carpeting and coffee that had been sitting on the warmer too long.

  His gaze roamed the room. His department’s staff had been quadrupled with officers from all over the Bay Area, and still it wasn’t nearly enough. The PSF lab techs had been working overtime making more of the heart-seeking bullets and dying to design other weapons that might give the PSF a fighting chance.

  For a moment Jake paused as his mind worked over possibilities for newer, better weapons. He’d drawn up a couple of schematics on his laptop, but what he’d come up with so far wouldn’t stop Bugs Bunny.

  The demon Tasers and the special pepper spray that had been created from his designs and know-how had to be used at close range and only gave the officer enough time to fire off another round of the heart-seeking bullets if the bullets didn’t find their target the first time.

  No way was he giving an inch on those bullets. They’d get the materials. And the wheels in his mind would just keep on whirring overtime on coming up with something that could stop a god. Or goddess. Make it both.

  Meanwhile, the D’Anu and D’Danann were supposed to be doing their damnedest to get some kind of help from Otherworld. He hoped to hell it would be soon.

  When Jake reached the door to his office, he came to a stop, his gut tightening with concern and instant primal need.

  Kat DeLuca perched on the edge of his desk, her long legs crossed at her knees, her slim skirt hiked up just enough to reveal a good portion of her thighs. She’d pushed away his mountain of files and his laptop so that the top of the desk was mostly bare.

  Jake’s throat was dry as he focused on her dark eyes and not her legs. Or her small, firm breasts that swelled beneath the silk blouse covering them. Or rather he tried not to focus on them. He swallowed. “You shouldn’t be out of your condo.”

  “I’m a reporter.” She braced her palms to either side of her on the laminate surface of his desk, her brows narrowing as she frowned. “I have every right to be gathering facts and presenting them to the public.”

  “Shit.” Jake shut his office door and locked it behind him. “We’ve been through this before. It’s not about rights. It’s about safety.”

  Her scowl deepened. It only made her look more beautiful, but she had a reporter’s hard edge to her tone as she spoke. “Until I get some answers, we’re going to go through it again, and again.”

  It wasn’t more than three steps from the door to his desk. He caught her face in his hands and pressed his mouth hard against her soft lips before raising his head and staring at her intently. “You don’t know what the hell is out there, Kat.”

  “Then tell me.” She brought her hands up and placed them over his. “I deserve to know what’s happening.”

  Jake sucked in his breath as he stared at the gorgeous woman whose face graced the screen of the nightly news. Her familiar perfume swept over him—a scent as exotic as she was, like green tea and ginseng.

  He rubbed one of his thumbs across her cheek, her olive complexion smooth, unmarred. The thought of one of those demons getting their hands on her seared his insides like a blowtorch.

  “That’s territory you know I can’t cross with you.” Jake slid his hands from her face to her shoulders and she gripped his T-shirt in her fists. “When we started dating a year ago, we agreed not to discuss work.”

  “Damnit, Jake.” Kat tugged at his T-shirt. “This is different.”

  “Just believe me when I tell you it’s not safe.” He squeezed her shoulders tight, but she didn’t even wince. He hardened his voice. “Nowhere is safe, except your home. You shouldn’t even be going to the news station.”

  “What’s it been?” Her features softened and she released his T-shirt and slid her palms down his abs toward the waistband of his jeans. “Five, maybe six months since you started acting edgy and disappearing for days, now weeks.”

  She uncrossed her legs and spread her thighs as she grasped the waistband of his jeans and pulled him to her. “I can’t remember the last time we had sex.”

  Jake groaned, his thoughts going blank as she unfastened the button of his jeans and tugged the zipper down over the briefs covering his now swelling member.

  Wild, raging, primal need took over his mind, his body—animalistic instincts that he couldn’t control if he wanted to. And God, he didn’t want to.

  He shoved up Kat’s blouse and unfastened the front clasp of her lacy bra
as she wrapped her fingers around his length. In seconds he had her flat on her back on his desk, her skirt pushed up to her waist, and the thin strip of material covering her folds pulled aside.

  In one, hard thrust, he buried himself deep within her wet core. Kat gasped and arched her back, raising her breasts up, capturing his attention.

  It felt so good being inside her. He gripped both of her breasts and began teasing her nipples as she moaned and thrashed beneath him like the wildcat she was. She hooked her ankles behind his ass, drawing him closer.

  All the pent-up frustration they both felt fueled the frenzy of their sex. He took her hard and fast and it was only moments before she gave a cry that he smothered with his palm.

  Her core gripped him and he clamped his jaws tight to keep from shouting as he climaxed. He shuddered as he poured himself into her.

  For a moment their combined breathing was loud in the stillness of his office as he tried to slow his heartbeat. He braced his hands on the desk before pulling away and tucking himself back into his briefs and fastening his jeans.

  Kat’s eyes were heavy-lidded as she rested on her elbows and looked up at him. “Come home with me.”

  Jake sighed and helped Kat off the desk and she arranged her clothing. She looked a little rumpled and he smoothed her short hair with his fingers before he brought her close to him in a tight hug. The smell of sex and her exotic scent had him hardening again.

  “I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to be around for a while.”

  She went completely quiet and he drew back to look down at her. The softness that had been on her features vanished. “Where will you be?”

  “Don’t ask.” Jake settled his hands on her waist. “And I have no idea how long I’ll be gone.” He ground his teeth as the war they were waging against Ceithlenn and the demons came more sharply into focus. “But it’ll be as long as it takes.”

  “Our relationship is off the record, Jake.” Kat stepped away smoothing her slightly creased skirt as she frowned. “If we really have any kind of relationship.”

  Jake felt like shouting, but he kept his voice controlled. “Stay at home as much as you can. I’m dead serious.”

  She studied him for a long moment. “You do what you have to do. I do what I have to.”

  “Damnit, Kat.” He followed as she turned away and unlocked the door. “Can’t you listen to me on this? Trust me?”

  Kat wrapped her fingers around the doorknob before pulling the door open. She paused and looked up at him. “Trust goes both ways,” she said then turned and strode through the doorway.

  Jake stared at her as she walked away, her chin tilted up and her backbone rigid. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides before reaching behind the door for his gym bag.

  Other than tackling a demon barehanded, right now there was only one way to work out the frustration, anger, and concern that was about to send him over the edge.

  After slamming his office door behind him, he headed through the cubicle maze to make his way to the department’s gym. He’d pump iron until his muscles gave out.

  Then hopefully one of his jujitsu sparring partners would be around and he could kick some ass.

  6

  Garran walked out of the Drow realm into the night, one hand resting on his sword hilt. Starlight and soft breezes greeted him, along with scents of freedom. The outdoors—pine trees, grass, wildflowers, berries, deer, wolves. Even the remnants of sunshine had a smell to it.

  For a moment anger caused his muscles to tighten. The Elvin Elders had banished the Drow for their darker ways. The Elders forced the Drow to live belowground using a great spell to make the Dark Elves’ skin and eyes intolerant to sunlight. Their skin tones had even been changed to separate the Dark Elves from those who considered themselves to be of the light.

  Self-righteous godsdamn bastards. Garran’s muscles bunched with the need to hit something. The pine tree looked like a good target, but no doubt a Dryad—a keeper of the trees—would be furious and he’d have her to contend with.

  Garran and his people had refused to bend to the will of the Elders. The Drow would not give up their ways, their lifestyle, their darker use of magic—although it caused the Elders to force them belowground.

  The Great Guardian—she was a creature far above the Elders, the greatest being of the light. And yet she had done nothing to stop the Elders.

  The only reason he had agreed to meet with the Guardian was for the sake of his daughter and his people.

  After the stone door screeched to a close, he sucked in a deep breath and pictured the transference stone and the meadow where the flat, circular stone had been placed many millennia ago.

  The Guardian would be there. No matter when one arrived, if she wanted to speak with a being, she would somehow know when to appear.

  With a mere thought, his body traveled through the doorway in time and space that took him to the transference stone. He felt the stone beneath his feet the moment he arrived and he opened his eyes.

  His gaze met the Great Guardian’s eyes, which were an incredible blue color. Like the finest, clearest sapphires the Dark Elves mined.

  Starlight mingled with a slice of moonlight that softly spilled over her features. As Drow, he could have seen her in pure darkness. But the touch of moonlight turned her aura from gold to silver and she was beautiful beyond words.

  Despite centuries of anger directed at the Elders, Garran could hold no grudge against the Great Guardian. He slowly knelt and laid his sword at her feet.

  “Rise, King Garran of the Drow.” Her melodic voice flowed over his skin like cool water in an underground pool.

  He rose to his full height and sheathed his sword at the same time he faced the beautiful Guardian. Such awe filled him that he had no words for a moment.

  Her clear blue eyes met his. “You have come to see me about the war against Ceithlenn in the San Francisco Otherworld.”

  The Guardian was tall, but Garran stood a few inches taller and he looked down at her. “You spoke to the D’Anu and D’Danann about rewarding my people with what I want most for them. This, provided the Drow aid the D’Anu and D’Danann in their battles.”

  “Conditionally.” Her placid expression did not change.

  Heat stirred in Garran’s gut. “You know the Dark Elves’ greatest wish is to walk again in the light. What condition would you put on this?”

  “The Drow will be gifted the freedom to walk in early morning and early evening.” The Elvin woman seemed to glow a little brighter. “When aboveground, the Drow will have the same skin and hair tones they possessed before being banished.”

  “Gifted?” He scowled and the heat flowed from his gut throughout his body. “It is our due. The Elders had no right to lay such a curse as they have upon my people.”

  “It is the best I have to offer you.” Her expression remained placid. “If your people stay out beyond the allotted time, they will first have sensitivity to the sunlight, and if they ignore the condition, they shall turn to ash.”

  “This is as far as you will bend?” Garran couldn’t stop from clenching his fists at his sides. “Why this condition?”

  The trees themselves seemed to sigh as a breeze lifted his hair from his shoulder plates.

  “To do otherwise would destroy the balance in Otherworld,” she said. “It would wreak havoc amongst all species.”

  Garran narrowed his brows. “What you speak of is nonsense.”

  The Guardian gave a gentle smile. “What was, what is, and what is to come, is as it is meant to be.”

  “You do naught but speak in riddles.” He kept his voice steady despite the anger tightening his skin. “The outcome of this war—you have already seen it?”

  “No.” She paused a moment before she continued. “The past, what occurs now—all has meaning. It is as the gods have determined it should be based on our choices. The choices we make in the present will determine what the future is to
be.”

  Garran’s head ached and he resisted the urge to rub his temples. “Should we join this war, how would we have the might to eliminate their foes?”

  “The humans are not to kill too great a number of the Fomorii.” The Guardian’s words seemed to have a little more steel to them. “It is another act that would upset the balance in Otherworld and Underworld.”

  “Not destroy all the Fomorii we can?” He narrowed his eyes, his thoughts darkening. “How then will we rid the San Francisco Otherworld of the demons?”

  “I will offer you my own gift.” The Great Guardian’s expression did not waver, but Garran felt a subtle change in the energy surrounding them. The fine hairs on his arms rose as he waited. “When in the presence of the Fomorii, you will have the power to transport large groups of the demons to Underworld with a thought.”

  The Guardian’s words seemed almost surreal.

  “It cannot be so easy,” he said.

  “It comes at a great cost to you. King Garran.” Her words hung like a sword suspended in the air between them.

  The world seemed to shift a little. The night stilled, unnaturally quiet, and he barely heard the trickle of the stream. “What is this cost?”

  “The first time you choose to use this power, it will weaken you and your own powers.” She never moved her gaze from his. “The second time illness shall overcome you and dilute your magic until you are well.”

  His throat tightened as he waited for her next edict.

  “The third occurrence could cost you far more.” She paused. “It could mean your life.” Her words sank into him like liquid metal seeping into his skin then solidifying, weighting his entire body. “Only one thing can save you should you choose to use this power thrice.”

  As a warrior, Garran did not fear death. However, he did fear leaving his people without a leader. Naught but weeks ago, the Fomorii had murdered his brother, the next in line for the throne. The beasts had also murdered the second and third in command.