Wicked Magic Page 18

  “Yes, you can, a stór,” he said in his deep Irish brogue. “You can take everything I give you.”

  Rhiannon groaned as her core continued to spasm around his cock. This had to be the longest climax ever. He rocked against her, relentless with his every movement.

  Finally, finally, he gave a growl and pinned his hips hard against hers, staying still as his semen pumped inside her. She felt every throb of his cock as her core clamped down on him.

  Her orgasm came to a shuddering halt and she felt boneless and exhausted. But completely sated.

  “You wore me out.” She sighed as he rolled so that her back was to him, his cock still inside her. “You win.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “And you are my prize.”

  Chapter 20

  Keir’s cabin was located near a hot spring so Rhiannon was in heaven when she took a bath the following morning. He had already bathed and washed his hair before she woke. Now he was off doing something while she enjoyed her luxurious dip in the pool.

  Delicious smells brought her out of her bathing ecstasy and her stomach grumbled. Great sex made a girl hungry.

  After she toweled off, dried her hair with her magic, and scooted into some clean clothes, she made her way to the front room. She hadn’t gotten a really good look last night. She’d been so tipsy and they’d headed straight for the bedroom.

  A giggle almost escaped Rhiannon when she saw Keir moving around the part of the great room that served as a kitchen. He looked so domestic as he sliced big chunks of bread and cut off a couple of pieces of white cheese from a round. The smell that was driving her crazy, though, was from the sausage links sizzling in a pan in the fireplace. It was situated on a contraption that also had a hook on it—probably to hold pots for stew and things like that.

  Keir glanced over his shoulder. “The food is almost ready.”

  For a moment she imagined him in an apron and she almost lost it. She snorted back a laugh and turned her attention to the room. What interested her now were the wooden figurines on the windowsill. She moved close enough to pick up a smoothly polished bird in flight. The beauty of it tugged at her heart. The carving was so life-like that the bird looked as if it could take flight. Had Keir made this?

  Sculpting tools and chunks of wood were arranged in one corner and she shook her head. Whoa. This man was way more than she’d thought him to be when she first met him.

  She glanced at him as he set the bread and cheese on a table near a large pantry, then looked back at the figurines as she set the bird on the sill. Incredible. Every last one of them was so detailed, down to the fine feathers beneath a ducktail.

  Her gaze stopped at the small bust of a woman. A strange chill crept up her spine as she picked up the wood carving. It was beautiful and life-like, too—

  And could be her mirror image.

  How—when? Was it her?

  She felt Keir move up beside her before he spoke. “I carved that piece the night before I went to Otherworld.”

  Rhiannon couldn’t talk for a moment. She cleared her throat and said, “It looks like me, but you made it before you met me.” She looked up at him, still clutching the piece. “Who is it?”

  He gently pried the bust from her fingers. “I did not know who it was until I saw you.” He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “This piece was born of the wood—as if my heart had guided my hands. It is the only explanation I can think of.”

  Rhiannon swallowed. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

  Keir slipped his fingers under her chin and tipped it up so that her gaze was trapped by his. He lowered his mouth and brushed his lips over hers, stealing her breath. When he raised his head she looked away and took deep gulps of air. This was too weird. Way too weird.

  He set the figure back on the windowsill, took her elbow in his hand, and guided her to the table. Bread, cheese, and red grapes were piled high on a platter in the middle of the table, along with another plate holding the sausage links. Wooden trenchers had been placed before two chairs.

  Still feeling as if she’d been hit over the head with one of those chunks of wood, Rhiannon slipped into her chair. Like nothing had happened, Keir started filling his plate with four sausage links, two big chunks of bread, wedges of cheese, and a generous amount of the grapes—and there was plenty left.

  As they had last night at the tavern, they ate their meal with their fingers. They washed down their breakfast with large metal mugs of crisp, clear, incredibly delicious water. Keir gave her a rough-spun napkin that she used to clean her hands and dab her mouth.

  Rhiannon couldn’t stop thinking about that figurine. Or the way Keir had looked at her when he’d said he’d recognized her from the carving the moment they’d met. The bust was too detailed, too polished for him to have sculpted it first thing this morning, and she knew he’d been in bed with her all night, holding her tightly as if afraid she might escape him.

  At this moment she felt like she was a frightened rabbit and he was a wolf. She wanted to run, and to run hard. Those were feelings she didn’t like, not at all. She was strong. She was just as much an alpha wolf as Keir.

  She made herself take deep steadying breaths as she helped him clean up the dishes and food. They didn’t talk much as they repacked their duffel bags. He seemed to sense her need for space, and he actually gave it to her. He wasn’t playing the dominant male, he was simply working side by side with her.

  When they finished packing and everything in the cabin was set to rights, Keir cleared his throat and came up behind her. “Would you like this one?”

  She startled from the sound of his voice and turned to meet his gaze. “Like what?”

  He held the carving of the bird she had first picked up and fallen in love with. Tears burned the back of her eyes. She didn’t know why the gesture meant so much to her, but it did. Without thought, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

  “I would like it very much,” she whispered.

  Keir focused his thoughts on the meeting with the Chieftains as he walked with Rhiannon through the woods to the Council Chambers. As much as his mind wanted to stay on Rhiannon, he needed to concentrate on the business at hand.

  She strode quietly at his side, her thoughts seemingly far away. For the first time, he found himself wondering what a woman might be thinking when she was with him.

  He shook his head to clear the notion, to focus his mind.

  When they reached the Chambers, they climbed the steps, past the Council guards, and into the building, which smelled of the passage of time. To the left was the huge gathering hall. To the right was a hallway that led to the Chieftains’ quarters and several other rooms.

  Today Rhiannon had on a bright blue shirt and jeans, along with the gold-and-onyx pentagram earrings, necklace, and ring that she always wore. Her pink shoes squeaked on the stone floor, her short auburn hair bobbed around her face, and her sprinkling of freckles stood out across her nose. She was beautiful. And she was his.

  The thought sent a spear of pride through his chest and invigorated his senses.

  At the door to the Chieftains’ quarters stood two greenrobed guards. Each gave a bow from their shoulders.

  “The Council awaits you,” the female guard said.

  She and the other guard pushed open the great wooden doors and held them until Rhiannon and Keir passed through, then closed the doors once again. Two more guards stood to each side of the door inside the chambers.

  The Council of thirteen highly esteemed male and female D’Danann were seated behind a half-moon-shaped raised dais. Each was garbed in royal blue robes and sat in highbacked chairs carved from the finest woods the Dryads would allow. All of the Chieftains were older than Keir, but most did not look so.

  Rhiannon’s shoes continued to squeak and Keir held back a smile. The noise echoed in the chamber and it was a sound probably never heard in this room. When they stood before the High Chieftain, Chaela, Keir bowed. Rhiannon stood straight
and met Chaela’s gaze. Keir was torn between elbowing Rhiannon into a bow and laughing at her defiance.

  The High Chieftain pulled her hood away from her face and let it fall to her back. Chaela was a stunning woman with blond hair and eyes almost as green as Rhiannon’s. Chaela pursed her lips and studied Rhiannon.

  “Welcome,” the High Chieftain said with a slight nod to Rhiannon, which surprised Keir.

  Even more of a surprise was when Rhiannon smiled brilliantly and returned Chaela’s nod. “Thank you for speaking with us on such short notice.”

  Gael, a Chieftain seated beside Chaela, frowned. “I sense this being is of Elvin blood,” he said. “No Elves are allowed in the Council Chambers as you know, Keir.”

  Keir scowled and Rhiannon eyed the Chieftain head-on. “I am Rhiannon, a D’Anu witch, and, yes, I recently discovered I do have some Elvin blood in my veins. However, I’m sure such an incredibly intelligent being as yourself would hold no prejudices against me and will listen to what Keir and I have come to discuss with the Council.”

  Gael looked taken aback, as did many of the other Chieftains, and Keir almost smiled again. This high-spirited woman surprised him at every turn and the knowledge filled his chest with warmth.

  Chaela folded her hands atop the carved wooden table. Emerald rings that matched her eyes glittered from each of her fingers. “Speak, Keir, D’Danann, and Rhiannon, D’Anu witch.”

  By second nature, Keir bowed from his shoulders again. When he rose he addressed the entire Council, his gaze moving from the first Chieftain to the thirteenth.

  “The battle in the San Francisco Otherworld grows more deadly every day,” he began, “now that the Fomorii have freed Ceithlenn. Balor’s wife has become an eater of souls, and with every soul she steals, she grows in power.”

  Chaela’s face was an expressionless mask even as she nodded for him to continue.

  “Not only has Ceithlenn found a way to seize human souls, but we have discovered there is a force of Fomorii so massive the D’Danann are greatly outnumbered. We ask for a large host of our brethren to join us when we go to war.”

  A stirring of unrest whispered through the Council.

  “How do you know this?” Gael said with narrowed eyes. “Have you seen this host of demons for yourself?”

  “I have.” Rhiannon’s voice rang high and clear. “I’m a seer and I visioned not only the enormous number of Fomorii, but also Basilisks and three-headed dog-beasts. Other creatures I can’t name are there, as well. They’re hiding beneath a rock island known as Alcatraz.”

  Gael made a scoffing noise and Keir fought to keep from clenching his hands into fists.

  “This is merely a halfling witch,” Gael addressed Keir. “What evidence do we have that her vision is true?”

  “She is a talented seer.” Keir’s voice came out harsher than he intended. “She has foreseen much of what has happened in the past, what occurs in the present, and what may come to pass.”

  Rhiannon’s voice had a hard edge to it. “I can see the direction the wind blows. Right now it’s blowing in favor of Ceithlenn and the Fomorii.”

  “We must see proof of this.” Chaela’s features were placid, but her tone was not. “You cannot expect the Council to send more warriors to the San Francisco Otherworld without it.”

  “It isn’t exactly a Kodak moment,” Rhiannon said. Keir did not understand the word “Kodak” but he had the feeling she was trying to rein in her temper. “We can’t just sneak into a cave of demons with a camera and take photographs.”

  Gael thumped his palm on the table. “This is not our war to begin with. We should not have sent any of our forces.”

  Rhiannon’s fair features turned a shade of pink and her green eyes sparked with fire. “I know you are a neutral race of beings and you choose only to aid those in need if you believe it to be the natural order of things. But haven’t you already determined this is the case in San Francisco?”

  “The D’Anu witch is correct.” Keir kept his voice steady and moved his hands behind his back so that he could clench them into fists. “Whether or not we are to be involved in this war is no longer a debate. What is important now is that the Council approve a larger contingent of our warriors to be readied for the oncoming war.”

  Silence reigned for a long moment.

  “The Council will discuss the matter.” Chaela’s emeralds glittered on her fingers as she motioned for the guards to open the doors. “Return after the noon meal. We will give you our answer then.”

  Keir ground his teeth but kept his expression steeled as he gave another short bow.

  “Thank you,” Rhiannon said, and turned with Keir to head out the chamber doors.

  Rhiannon kept her temper in check until they were a good distance from the Council Chambers so they wouldn’t be overheard—at least, she hoped they were far enough away.

  “Do they have to be so damn pigheaded about everything?” she asked. As they continued walking through the forest, she looked up and met Keir’s stormy gaze. “Millions of lives are at stake. Look what Ceithlenn did to that busload of tourists. What if she gains enough strength that she can wipe out a city full of people?”

  Keir took her by the shoulders and held her still. “No matter their decision, we will persevere. We will strike where they are most vulnerable—their leaders.” His face held dark promise. “We will get that goddess-bitch.”

  Instead of feeling relieved by what Keir had said, a sense of hopelessness gripped Rhiannon. She moved away from his grasp, plopped down in the grass at the foot of one of the larger trees, and rested her head against its trunk.

  “What if we don’t, Keir?” She looked up at the leaves above her that were splashed with sunlight. Her skin tingled from the sunshine and her eyes burned a bit. “Ceithlenn is strong. So, so very strong.”

  Keir eased down beside her. He sat with one knee bent, his forearm resting on his knee as he studied her. “Have faith, a stór.”

  Rhiannon looked at him. “I have faith in you. I have faith in all our people who fight this war. I just don’t know if faith is enough.”

  “It may have to be.” He squeezed her thigh with his big hand.

  With a sigh she leaned her head against his shoulder. Right then she needed his support, needed the closeness.

  He tugged a lock of her hair. “It is your turn.”

  “For what?”

  “To tell me about you. I answered your questions last night. You should now answer mine.”

  Keir’s muscles flexed against her cheek as he shifted to a more comfortable position against the tree and draped his arm over her shoulders. Rhiannon felt like she was burrowing in a comfortable blanket. He felt so good, smelled so good.

  “What do you want to know?”

  He nuzzled her hair. “Your childhood.”

  She stiffened. His turn to hit a sore spot. Well, fair was fair. “When I was a kid my parents dumped me on the doorstep of my aunt because I wasn’t … what they wanted. I was just a little girl, maybe two. And they left me. When I was five, Aunt Aga made it clear that the power … the Shadows in me was why I was sent away from my parents,” she finished in a whisper.

  She was afraid of his response when she mentioned the Shadows, but he only squeezed her closer to him.

  For a moment she did feel wistful. What would it have been like to know her parents? If she met them today, how would she react?

  Did she inherit that dark power from one of them?

  She sucked in her breath. They left me. That’s all there is to say.

  “Aunt Aga wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type.” Rhiannon started picking at the grass, letting the blades slip through her fingers without pulling them from the ground. “The old hag treated me like crap and kicked me out the moment I turned eighteen.”

  As she spoke, Keir tensed beside her. “So,” she continued, “my childhood isn’t something that’s fun to talk about.” She sighed. “At least I didn’t have to sleep in a barn.�
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  “You were mistreated.” Keir’s voice had that rumbly growl that it got when he was passionate about something, whether it was from anger or during sex.

  “It’s been a while.” She sighed again. “I really should get over it, but I don’t think I can.”

  Rhiannon’s words gave Keir some pause. For centuries he had never forgiven his father, stepmother, or brother for his treatment. Was it far beyond time for him to “get over it?”

  He ground his teeth. “What did you do once your aunt forced you to leave home?”

  “There was a nice elderly couple who I always called my stepparents.” Rhiannon gave a little smile. “They let me live on their houseboat for a time until Silver took me in and hired me to work in the D’Anu Coven’s metaphysical store.”

  Rhiannon continued, “I guess I do have to thank Aunt Aga for teaching me the ways of the D’Anu and allowing me to serve as an apprentice. She died not too long after she kicked me out.”

  “Do you remember anything about your mother and father?” he asked.

  “Not really.” Rhiannon paused. “I always wondered about my parents. Why they left me like they did.

  “Anyway”—she sounded as if she was trying to make her voice brighter—“I’ve had a good life since I moved in with Silver and since progressing from apprenticeship to full D’Anu witch. When all this is over with and we get rid of Ceithlenn and the Fomorii,” she said, “I want to open my own shop. I’ve saved up a lot of money over the years, invested it well, and pulled out of the stock market before it crashed. Since then I’ve been a little more conservative, but I’ll be able to do it.”

  “I am certain you will do anything you wish to,” Keir said. And with all his heart and soul he prayed to the gods that one of those things would be to stay with him.

  After a filling lunch in the tavern of baked beans, corn bread, and roast beef, Keir escorted Rhiannon back to the Council Chambers.