The Shadows Page 16
Confidence remained in Hannah that even combining her gray magic with Garran’s dark, she’d never fall so far out of line that she would cross into dark sorcery. It simply wasn’t an option.
With her magic joining his, she could see outside the bubble. The lights of San Francisco sparkled against the skyline, growing larger as the sphere started skimming the water, heading closer to the city.
On the journey back, she kept one of her palms on Garran’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. She resisted cupping his smooth jaw then running her fingers through his hair.
Hannah rolled her eyes up to the domed ceiling of the sphere. Since when had she started getting mushy like that? For the Ancestors’ sake, he was one of the Dark Elves.
She looked down at Garran and her heart softened.
The geodess bumped into something, jarring Hannah so that she fell across Garran. He opened his eyes as she started to push herself up.
Those mesmerizing, liquid silver eyes...
Garran caught her face in his hands and brought her to him so that their lips met, and Hannah sighed. He kissed her softly then gently rose so that the two of them sat face-to-face before he looked at the sphere.
He frowned as he reached out and touched the wall that now swirled with both his dark magic and her green power. “My spell failed?”
“It just needed a little reinforcement.” Hannah’s gaze found the dock that was now above their heads. There was no rocky shore, just wooden pilings and a sheer wall. “I don’t suppose you can get this thing to go up again, can you?”
When she returned her gaze to Garran’s he was shaking his head, a frustrated, angry expression on his features. “My powers have never been weak in all my years.” He clenched his fist on his thigh.
She put her hand on his fist. “It happens to the best of us.”
His voice came out in a low growl. “Not me.”
“Well, guess you’re not so perfect after all.” She pushed herself to her feet and glared at him. “Maybe you’re a little like everyone else.”
Garran glared back, but she looked upward at one of the dock’s reinforcements. She raised her hand and let loose a magic rope that glittered in the night. The rope wrapped around a wooden pole protruding from the edge of the dock.
Without waiting for he-man, she grasped the rope and started to pull herself up. She wrapped her legs around it and her arms strained from holding her own weight as she inched her way higher.
It would sure be handy to have Garran’s power and have the rope draw her up the way his magic had at the island.
When she reached the walkway she paused. How was she going to swing herself onto the dock?
Hannah let out a little yelp as she felt pressure on her rear. Like a hand was pushing on her ass, she began to rise until she could climb fully on to the walkway.
She looked down to see, as she’d expected, Garran sending some of his magic up to help her. So, he wasn’t totally depleted. That was good.
He grabbed her magic rope and began making his way up. His muscles bulged in all the right places. It would have made her mouth water if she wasn’t so concerned for him.
His jaw was tense in the soft light coming from the pier. Whatever had happened in the Fomorii lair had really zapped his strength.
When he reached the top of the rope, she started to grab his hand to help him the rest of the way up, but with one powerful move he swung himself up and onto the pier.
He flipped and landed on his back and let out a low groan as he stared up at the foggy night sky.
Hannah leaned over the side of the pier to watch the geodess fade and diminish as Garran pulled his magic back into himself, and she drew hers back inside her.
She remained on her ass for a moment before pushing herself to her feet and looking down at Garran. “I think we need to get back and get to bed.”
This time his look was entirely too seductive. “It will be my pleasure.”
Hannah shook her head and smiled. “Let’s see if you can get your butt back to the warehouse.”
He got to his feet and she pretended not to notice that he was still wobbly. His warrior pride was probably killing him.
Exhaustion made her lean into Garran, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders as if knowing she needed his support. More likely they needed each other’s support. It was probably close to midnight.
When they finally reached the warehouse, they bypassed the D’Danann warrior guards with Garran’s shroud and entered the building.
When they were a good distance away from the entry way, Garran dropped the shroud.
They came to a complete stop as Hawk, Rhiannon, and Jake stepped through the kitchen door. Without hesitation, the three strode toward Hannah and Garran. Each of them wore an expression ranging from concern to questioning to angry.
Goddess, I so do not need this right now.
“Why aren’t you all in bed?” Hannah asked, feeling grumpy and irritable, as the three reached her and Garran. “It’s late.”
“Where’ve you been?” Jake looked from Garran to Hannah, his voice filled with mistrust.
“I had a strong vision.” Rhiannon looked slightly rumpled with her chin-length hair ruffled. She was barefoot, wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a bright pink T-shirt. “You both went to Alcatraz tonight.”
“Yes.” All weariness vanished from Garran’s voice as he straightened to his full height, looking every bit the powerful warrior.
Jake glanced at Hannah, who sighed. “There and back again.”
“But what my vision showed me—” Rhiannon shook her head as in disbelief. “The cavern was filled with Fomorii. You were there, Garran, with all the demons—and then they just vanished. Every last demon that was in the cavern.”
“Is this the case?” Jake narrowed his gaze at Garran.
Hannah wondered exactly what he would say. She had no idea what had occurred in that cavern.
Garran appeared calm, as if nothing had happened. “Rhiannon’s vision is correct.” He met his daughter’s gaze. “I was in the cavern and the demons did vanish.”
Rhiannon, Hawk, and Jake looked at one another with astonished expressions before returning their gazes to Hannah and Garran.
“It’s true.” Exhaustion was catching up with Hannah. She felt it to her bones, like each one was made of lead. “I heard a massive amount of roars and shrieks, but I didn’t get into the cavern until after the Fomorii were gone. I found Garran unconscious and no signs of the demons.”
“Care to explain?” Jake’s sharp tone had Hannah wondering what had him on edge. “Did you do something to the Fomorii?”
“All I am able to tell you is that the demons have returned to Underworld,” Garran said clearly, and Hannah looked up at him in surprise.
He knows they were sent to Underworld? How?
Jake folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“As you will.” Garran kept his gaze focused on the three. Small lines had formed at the outside corners of his eyes, and Hannah realized it was a sign he was tired. “But now Hannah and I must retire. We have had no sleep for many hours.”
Hawk’s jaw tensed. “How did this happen? How do you have this knowledge the Fomorii returned to Underworld?”
Garran’s gaze didn’t waver from Hawk’s. “I cannot say.”
“You can’t or won’t?” Jake asked.
“For the blessed goddess’s sake.” Hannah’s head ached and her temper soared as she glared at both Hawk and Jake. “Isn’t it good enough for you that the demons are gone?”
“For all we know, he had something to do with hiding the demons.” Jake’s eyes flashed his skepticism. “Not sending them back to Underworld.”
“Believe what you will.” Garran’s voice remained so even that Hannah didn’t understand how he accomplished it. She was totally about to lose her composure, and she prided herself on keeping it together. “But for now, as I said, Hannah and I req
uire sleep.”
Rhiannon pushed aside Hawk and Jake and glared up at each of them. “Give it a rest for now. If it’ll make you feel better, we can go to Alcatraz ourselves and check it out.”
Before she tugged Jake and Hawk away, Rhiannon told two D’Danann that Hannah and Garran needed someplace to lie down for a good, long sleep, a place where they wouldn’t be disturbed.
One of the warriors led them to an empty “room” that was simply a place with plywood walls, a door, and no ceiling.
Oops. One room.
Good enough.
When the D’Danann warrior left, Hannah and Garran sank onto the concrete floor, and she realized she didn’t give a damn where they lay down, so long as they got some rest.
But the warrior came back with a couple of sleeping bags and Hannah thanked him before he closed the door.
As soon as she and Garran rolled out the sleeping bags, side by side, and settled on them, he pulled her close, so that her head rested on his chest.
Odd, but she didn’t want to separate herself from him. Instead she had the intense desire to be as near him as possible.
Hannah let all thoughts of missing demons and arguing men float away from her mind.
She closed her eyes and immediately slipped into darkness.
15
Ceithlenn appraised her new living arrangement. She had saved her strength by having the Fomorii do the work in securing the opulent location—the way a ruler should.
The wooden blinds of the new luxury apartment were slightly open, allowing strips of moonlight to line the burgundy carpeting at an angle. The Fomorii she had brought with her had just finished overtaking the bodies of the man and woman who had lived in this apartment before Ceithlenn made it her home.
Smells of food still simmering in the kitchen made her stomach churn. The demons would be happy to eat whatever the humans had been cooking, but Ceithlenn had no stomach for it.
She wanted flesh. Human flesh.
And their souls, she needed their souls.
Her muscles actually ached from the weakness that continued to master her body as she waited for a group of Fomorii to return with food for herself and for the demons. They could all stand to fill up on what they preferred to eat.
Ceithlenn shook her short punk-red hair back. She was in her human form, the warlock formerly known as Sara, which she found much easier to maintain while she struggled with her powers. In the cavern, where over half of her Fomorii legion remained, she always appeared as her true goddess self.
To see her as such struck fear in the hearts of the demons and other beasts and helped her control them.
The smells coming from the kitchen—Polish sausage along with boiled potatoes and cabbage, her Sara-self told her—now gave her the urge to vomit.
If she wasn’t waiting for the five Fomorii to return to her with her true dinner, she would leave this foul-smelling place until it was cleaned up and aired out.
A smile of satisfaction curved her lips. Almost half her legion of Fomorii had infiltrated San Francisco. The demons had taken over the bodies of highly placed military and law enforcement officials.
Not only that, but they’d hijacked senators, congressmen, wealthy businessmen and women as well—anyone in any place where she could get a foothold to be prepared for her next attack.
Soon, because of her newfound control, martial law would be lifted so that humans would again roam the streets at all times. Events would be held such as rallies and parades.
Those with great wealth would ensure the events carried on, and the military and law enforcement branches would not stop them.
She sensed the return of the Fomorii and that alone gave her strength—to know she would dine and regain at least some power.
The time when she and Balor would again rule over the Old World, including Ireland, would soon come. With no interferences from any of the gods and goddesses who had left for Otherworld when she and Balor were banished to Underworld.
Ceithlenn scowled as she summoned some of the last vestiges of her strength to jerk open the door with her magic, allowing the Fomorii to stumble in with their prey.
As usual, she had chosen nighttime for their feeding. But instead of having her demons travel a distance away, so as not to raise suspicion, this time she didn’t care.
The food they pushed in through the door were humans obtained from other apartments in the building.
The Fomorii remained in their demon forms as they pulled, shoved, or carried the humans into the apartment. The five Fomorii each carried two of the pathetic creatures so that there were ten in all.
The demons dumped the humans in the middle of the burgundy carpeting. The Fomorii had used human methods to restrain the creatures to bring Ceithlenn fresh food, binding their bodies and muzzling their mouths with duct tape.
Ceithlenn salivated at the sight of the bound and gagged people and she sucked in a deep breath of the sweet smell of their succulent flesh combined with the even sweeter scent of their fear.
“Ah, this one.” Ceithlenn knelt before the largest of the humans. His fat spilled over the waistband of his gray sweatpants.
She summoned some of the strength she had left to transform into her goddess form and watched as the humans’ eyes widened in even more terror.
Within mere seconds, her hair turned to flame, large leathery wings sprouted from her back, her hands extended into claws, and her teeth lengthened into sharp fangs.
“This one, and”—she smiled as she pointed to a businessman in a two-piece suit—“that one are mine. You may share the rest.”
Before Ceithlenn even had the opportunity to feed, the demons had already started. Smells of blood and flesh served as an aphrodisiac that caused her belly to rumble.
And then she was rocked to her very core.
Souls rushed at her. Souls of the humans the Fomorii were killing. Strands and puffs of white and gray entered her body—souls.
Always before, she’d had to take souls by murdering the humans herself. This time, her demons making the kills released the souls and Ceithlenn could draw them in faster and easier than ever before.
As the sounds of muffled screams, growling, smacking, and of flesh being torn from bone met her ears, Ceithlenn closed her eyes and sucked in the humans’ essences. Power flooded her, filled her, so great that all weakness and exhaustion vanished.
Pure euphoria lifted her and her formerly clouded mind cleared.
She scraped her claws along the fat man’s throat.
A vision slammed into her and she almost collapsed.
Her cavern. The one she had created below Alcatraz Island.
Empty.
No Fomorii. No Basilisks. No Handai. None of the three-headed dogs of Underworld.
Only vast emptiness.
A shudder of fury shook her body.
She shrieked and barely recognized that the room had gone silent at the sound of her scream.
Ceithlenn wrapped her wings around her body and transferred to the cavern.
She arrived on the shelf she always used to preside over her legions.
The cavern was empty.
Just as she had envisioned.
Another shriek tore from her throat and she shoved herself from her perch, taking flight. The fury roiling up inside her caused her to feel as if her entire body burned with flame like her hair.
Her vision grew even redder than usual when in her goddess form and her claws had extended until they hurt.
She soared around the empty cavern, somehow knowing her legions had been sent back to Underworld. But how could such a great feat have been accomplished?
The stench of the Fomorii had faded and she smelled only the bay outside the cavern—
And something more.
Something that gave her pause.
Human.
Elvin.
Both had been in her cavern. How many?
Ceithlenn gave another cry and made a round of the cavern again.
She flew to the rock shelf where a long dagger had been discarded. When she landed, she picked up the weapon by the hilt and almost dropped it.
Elvin made, but not of the Light Elves. She would not have been able to hold it if it had been one of theirs.
No, this blade could only have been fashioned by the Dark Elves.
Traitors.
The Drow had turned on Balor, the Fomorii, and Ceithlenn when the door to Underworld had been opened.
She raised the blade to her nose and caught a strong scent. Definitely Drow.
With her eyes closed, she gripped the hilt of the blade and searched for the memory of the weapon.
The darkness behind her eyelids exploded into images.
Garran. King Garran of the Dark Elves had wielded this very blade.
Her fury grew hotter with every image her vision revealed, of what had taken place in this cavern. Garran fighting the Fomorii. Fending them off alone. Garran scrambling over the rocks. Reaching this very spot. Standing. Delving inside himself for magic.
A great burst of power encompassing the entire cavern. So powerful that even the image almost knocked Ceithlenn against the wall.
Silver brightness faded.
The cavern empty.
Garran collapsing.
Darkness.
Ceithlenn’s hand shook so hard with fury that she almost dropped the blade, but she maintained her grip and felt Garran stir. He heard a female voice.
Opened his eyes.
And saw one of the D’Anu witches.
It was one of the witches Ceithlenn had battled in the stadium.
The witch’s name came from Garran’s mind.
Hannah. A D’Anu witch who communed with the Dragon Elementals, their power strong within her.
Dragons.
And this witch meant something to King Garran.
Deep inside, his soul recognized her as his mate. Ceithlenn’s eyes snapped open and she narrowed them. She knew exactly what she was going to do to the King of the Dark Elves.
16
Ice-cold wind tugged at Jake’s hair and felt bracing against his skin as the PSF’s streamlined watercraft headed toward Alcatraz Island in the fog-shrouded night. Thousands of lights glittered from Marin County ahead, and from the shores of San Francisco, which they had left behind them.