Sword of the Raven (31 page)

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Authors: Diana Duncan

Tags: #Paranormal Romance

BOOK: Sword of the Raven
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She beat the trauma unit to the rooftop, paced behind the chopper while endless excruciating minutes ground past. How badly had she hurt Rowan? She’d had no idea repossessing her Power would drain his strength.

She tried to feel him. Sense him.
Rowan, can you hear me?

Nothing.

She paced faster. Where was the damned medevac unit?

Finally, two men and two women burst through the doorway.

Delaney strode around the chopper, yanking out both guns. She aimed them at the stunned group. “Which one of you is the pilot?”

A freckle-faced, redheaded guy stepped forward, chin angled in false bravado. “I am.”

“Hop in, fire it up.” She waved the pistol in her right hand at the team. “The rest of you, over by the wall, face down on the pavement.”

The engine roared. Rotors clacked overhead, blowing her hair around her. “Don’t move,” she yelled over the noise. “Don’t call for help if you want to see your friend again.”
You won’t remember me
, she broadcasted at them. Mage mind games might not work for her, but it was worth a shot.

She stuck the backup piece in her jacket pocket, then clambered into the helo. Keeping the other gun and both eyes trained on the pilot, she awkwardly fastened her seatbelt and donned mic’d headphones.

“L-look, Ma’am,” he stammered. “I—”

“Shut it, Flyboy. You know where Cape Hope is?”

He gulped. “Yeah.”

“Get me there. Fast.”

“Uh…I have to request airspace clearance.”

“Do it. Lives are at risk, and not just your own.”

“Ten-four.” He fumbled with the controls, spoke to the control tower. Clearance took another lifetime.

At last, the chopper soared skyward. Delaney didn’t give a damn if it could cause a headache, she used Power to force the machine to fly faster. But no pain manifested. Maybe because the pilot didn’t know she was using Magic?

The tense flight still took over thirty minutes.

She ordered the pilot to circle the coastline until she spotted Zinter’s house. The battle raged below, a writhing swarm of demons and glinting blades.

The pilot blinked. Shook his head. “Lord Almighty!”

She threw another burst of Power at him. “You’re looking at a…ah…twenty car pileup on the coast highway.” She saw Rini and Natiri double-flanking the snarling beast that had nearly killed Rowan. Delaney pointed at the monster.
No guts…no glory
. “See that big…hill down there? Land on top of it. Hard.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The two-ton whirlybird dropped onto the beast with a sickening crunch. Delaney stared into the pilot’s dazed eyes. “Take off. When you get back to the hospital, you won’t remember where you’ve been or what you’ve seen.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She leapt out of the chopper, and it whisked upward.

Rini nodded at her, then calmly slit the throat of an advancing demon.

Natiri whooped and gestured at the crushed monster. “Nice entrance. Welcome to the party.”

“I’m just getting started.” Delaney’s frantic glance swept the gory, shouting melee. “Where’s Rowan?”

Natiri’s glaive whistled through the air and disemboweled, then beheaded another demon. “Haven’t seen him since the fun started.”

A barely discernable connection between Delaney and Rowan flickered open, and dread crawled all over her. She knew exactly where to find him. “I need you both to follow me.”

With the coolly lethal Elf and the ferocious Faerie at her back, Delaney pulled out Zack’s pistols. Firing with both hands, she ran toward Zinter’s kitchen door, shooting every demon in her path. Bullets might or might not kill the suckers, but the ammo sure as hell mowed ‘em down.

Power detonated inside her, and her booted foot kicked in the steel door. Flinging aside the empty guns, she commanded her sword, rushed the hallway. Delaney kicked in the door to the basement.

She froze on the top stair.

The immense room boiled with chanting demons. At the far end, Rowan lay naked, wrists and ankles chained to the rock altar. His eyes were closed, his skin bruised and slashed everywhere, his limbs broken at horrifying angles. Blood trickled from the hundreds of cuts. More blood trailed from his mouth, down his chin to his neck. Lit black candles danced obscenely around him. Ceard and Zinter loomed over him, immersed in chanting. His own sword of ice pierced his abdomen, pinning him to the stone.

Her breath jammed in her lungs. Her heart stopped.
Dear God.

She was too late.

“No,” she whispered through numb lips.

Though he couldn’t have possibly heard the faint exclamation, Rowan’s head slowly turned toward her. His eyes opened. The grief and regret on his face vanquished all doubts.

Been waiting…for you.
His silent message was weak and thready.
Felt when…you…impossibly regained Power. Knew then…you’d come.

Hang on. Hang on, Rowan. I’ll get you out of here.

His gaze flicked toward the long wall of caged, terrified prisoners.
Them first.

Delaney glanced over her shoulder at Rini and Natiri. “Help me clear a path, then get the hostages out.”

She charged down the stairway, yelling to break the Sorceress’ concentration, desperate to interrupt the ritual that was draining what remained of Rowan’s lifeforce. “Ceard!”

Both women started, raised their heads to stare at her.

“You.” Delaney pointed her sword at the woman she despised. “You will pay for every bruise. Every cut. Every ounce of pain you’ve caused him.”

Scarlet flushed Ceard’s pale cheeks and she shrieked, “You’re not powerful enough to stop me.”

“Hide and watch me, bitch.”

A faint smile ghosted across Rowan’s lips, even as the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth flowed thicker.

Delaney shoved aside the fear and horror that threatened to gut her as she cut a swath toward him through the demons. Watching from the corner of her eye, she saw Rini and Natiri fight to the cages. The Elf and Faerie sprang the locks, slaughtering demons who tried to prevent them from herding the prisoners upstairs to freedom.

Natiri paused at the upper door, arched her brow.

“Go!” Delaney shouted.

Delaney had almost reached the altar when Ceard flicked her fingernails. A stinging blast flung Delaney backward. Rowan’s protection spell was weakening as he did. Ceard couldn’t kill her…yet…but she could make it hurt.

Gathering her Power around her like a cloak, Delaney scrambled upright and charged again. She almost made it.

A big horned demon leapt into her path, aiming a javelin. Grinning, he recoiled a muscular arm.

“Halt!” Ceard ordered. “She’s mine. Retrieve the prisoners!”

The demon scurried away.

Delaney stepped to Rowan’s side. Raised her blade to Ceard. “What, you’re not going to have your flunkies do your dirty work for a change?”

“You’re my kill.” Ceard snarled. “My hands will rip the life from you.”

“Nay, Ceard,” Rowan whispered. “Delaney is mine. And she shall be the one…who finally sends Balor to hell.”

His fingers sought Delaney’s free hand, clung. Delaney felt him gather her essence, using it to rally his own. Felt his Power ripple out. The steel door blocking the tunnel melted.

Then he called the sea.

A tsunami roared up through the tunnel, crashed through the windows and open door, flooding the room with cold salt water. Ceard and Zinter and the remaining demons screamed, floundered, tried desperately to flee. But every time they got close to escape, vicious waves slapped them back, dragged them under.

Rowan squeezed her hand, so weak she barely sensed the pressure.
Find...my cousins. Carry on…fight.

You can do it yourself.
Floodwaters swirled around her neck, but she wasn’t afraid. She trusted him.
You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. You’re drown-proof.

No…longer. Everything I have…everything I am…is yours.

He speared all his Powers into her. Raw, liquid energy detonated inside her, jolted her with atomic energy that knocked her beneath the breakers.

Delaney lost her grip on Rowan. She coughed, choked—then found herself breathing water as comfortably as air. She clawed to her feet and bent over him, everything and everyone completely submerged. The sea lashed at the ceiling as his Powers roiled through her cells, infusing her with superhuman strength.

She struggled in vain to force the waves to recede.
Rowan! Stop it!
Gripping his shoulders, she frantically tried to force his Power back into him, but he’d reserved just enough strength to hold his incantation.

I can get you out of here, Rowan. I can heal you!

Not…this time. Pierced by my own sword. But Ceard…is defeated. Hunt Balor. Finish…it.

Don’t do this! Don't die because of the woman who didn’t love you!
Slowed by the surrounding water, she stroked his cheek.
Please! Live for the woman who does
.

Beautiful silver eyes caught, held her in their embrace. Brimming with sorrow…and undeniable devotion. His smile did what Ceard could not. Ripped out her heart.

‘Tis…all right, my beloved. I’ve never feared…the water.

No! Rowan! No!

Helpless, shaking, screaming inside, she could do nothing.

Except watch him drown.

Chapter 20

The sea began to recede the instant Rowan died. But not quick enough.
Hurry!
Delaney demanded to the waves.
Clear his face!

Urging the waterline to go lower, faster, Delaney watched in shock as huge black tentacles snaked in through the tunnel, wrapped around Ceard’s body and snatched it away.

Delaney swam upward, braced her feet on the altar and carefully tugged Rowan’s sword out of his abdomen. It immediately vanished, so she used her own to slash through the chains binding his wrists and ankles.

Please! Hurry!

The moment the waves dipped below Rowan’s face, Delaney’s new Powers instinctively drew the water from his lungs before she started CPR. She desperately shoved Power into him along with every push, every breath.

She pressed shaking fingertips to his neck, seeking a pulse.
Nothing.
Her own pulse stuttered. “Rowan, come back!”

Delaney gave him more breaths, more compressions. Blasted every spark of energy she could summon into him.

“I am
not
giving up on you.” She worked doggedly while perspiration sheened her skin, while her limbs turned to jelly and her own rasping breaths grated in her chest like shards of glass. She’d drop before she quit. “Breathe, damn you! Do you hear me, you stupid, stubborn Mage?”

The upper door crashed open. She just kept working as heavy bootsteps thundered down the stairway.

Archer’s stunned face appeared in her line of vision. “What happened?”

“Ceard…speared him…with his own sword.” Breaths, compressions. Power. “He…gave me all his Powers.” Breaths, compressions. Power. “He drowned Ceard. Then he…drowned.”

Archer swore, felt for Rowan’s pulse. “How long have you been at this?”

“Don’t care.”

“Delaney,” he said quietly. Too quietly. “His essence isn’t here.”

“No!” Breaths, compressions. Power. “We’ll both…heal him! Guardians can…heal, too.”

“Not if he was mortally wounded by his own weapon. Nobody can.”

“Won’t. Quit. On. Him.” Breaths, compressions. Another Power push, weaker with every moment, as she weakened.

“You’re hurting yourself now. He wouldn’t want that.” Archer grabbed her, swung her down. “Delaney, he’s gone.”

She fought viciously. “Turn me loose!”

“I’m sorry.” Unyielding bands of steel wrapped around her trembling, thrashing body.
“Goddamn
, I’m so sorry.”

Delaney forced herself to calm. Saw Zinter’s body, and those of the demons smashed on the floor like storm-tossed driftwood. “We have to take him to the sea! By the lighthouse, on sacred ground. The sea will cure him, like before.”

“Delaney—”

“Don’t.
Just shut the hell up and help him.”

She could hardly bear to watch as Archer lifted Rowan’s broken body in his massive arms and jogged upstairs. Sobbing, praying, she stumbled along behind.

When they reached the lighthouse, she stepped into the ocean, which warmed at her touch. She dropped into the waves. Archer placed Rowan’s body across her lap, then retreated up the beach.

Delaney gathered her Mage into a tender embrace. “Wake up, Rowan.” Murmuring waves lapped around him in concern as she caressed his face. “Wake up, now.” She gave him a little shake. “You’re going to be okay. You’re strong, stronger than anyone I know. You can fight your way back to me. If
anyone
can do it, you can.”

She encouraged, begged, threatened, all the while wan daylight slowly crept across the clouded sky.

As the longest hours of her life painfully crawled past, she kept talking, though her throat went raw, her voice hoarse and cracked. She rocked him. Sang his grandmother’s lullaby. Kept singing.

While she talked, while she sang…she waited for Rowan’s chest to move with a breath, watched for his throat to throb with a heartbeat.

The sky eventually darkened. Orange streaks smeared the horizon, then bloodied to crimson. The sun’s edge dipped into the water, staining it red.

Archer’s footsteps crunched across the sand. He squatted beside her, and she hugged Rowan tighter.

“Delaney.” Gentle sorrow vibrated in his voice. “It’s time.”

She shook her head.

“Honey, you have to let him go.”

She wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
Delaney bent, rested her cheek on Rowan’s. His skin felt too cool against her tear-damp cheek.

Anguish choked her.

But she had to.

She closed her eyes. Words rose from deep within her, resonating with the Power and courage of generations of Clan MacLachlan. Strength Rowan had bequeathed her.

Her face pressed to his, she haltingly whispered the ancient Gaelic blessing to send her Mage on his way in peace and love. She drew back for a final lingering look at his beloved face. Kissed his forehead one last time.

Then she opened her arms.

Waves lapped delicately around him. The ocean lifted him in its breast, reverently carried him out to sea.

When nothing more than his faint shadow floated on the horizon, his body sank into the water alongside the dying sun.

Darkness descended.

* * *

Floating in oblivion, Delaney fought regaining consciousness. She’d had a horrifying nightmare.

Just another nightmare.

The smell of percolating coffee assaulted her nostrils, reluctantly tugged her closer to the surface. She’d open her eyes and see Rowan bringing in her first morning cup. He’d snuggle beside her in the antique bed, steal a kiss, then tease her about her vivid imagination. He’d wish her happy birthday. They’d make love.

Until she woke up, yesterday hadn’t really happened.

She clamped her eyelids tighter, tried to will herself back into blankness.

But denial could only take her so far. The mellow java fragrance wasn’t Rowan’s nuclear brew. The bootsteps in the cabin’s kitchen weren’t his near-silent glide. The soap-scented steam drifting down the hallway from a recent shower wasn’t his breezy ocean scent.

No matter how hard she wished otherwise, she had to face this day. And the next. Face all the days that followed.

Without him.

Delaney forced her eyes open. Rain streamed down the windows, the elements weeping for their fallen warrior.

Laying in the bed alone, where she’d once lain with Rowan, was beyond endurance. Like ripping off a bandage, she flung back the covers. She shuffled down the hallway, everything she saw slamming her with memories of her Mage. The big claw-footed bathtub. The braided entry rug. The kitchen table.

She dropped into a chair at the table.

Archer turned from the stove, where he was sliding a tray of biscuits into the oven. “You’re up. How are you doing?”

She shrugged.

“Want a coffee?”

She shook her head.

“I know, Delaney.” He strode over to stand behind her. “I’ve walked in your shoes. Brutally losing someone you care about shreds your guts.” He stroked her hair. “Believe it or not, the pain eases. Never goes away; but it grows bearable. Sorta. Eventually.”

Maybe if she lived another couple centuries. “Is…” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Do we have cell service?”

“Did when I called Rini a while ago. She took a nasty hit yesterday, but she’s recovering. Why?”

“I have to check on Zack. Graves attacked him.”

Archer’s fingers massaged her aching shoulders. “I got a call from a pissed-off Cabal official this morning. Seems their cleanup crew had a hellacious job sanitizing the hospital stairwell. Took ‘em a couple hours to bust the spell you cast to lock the doors and cloak Graves’ body. They weren’t thrilled.” He squeezed gently. “Zack’s gonna be fine, though.”

“Cleanup crew? How did the Cabal know?”

“Those freaks have eyes everywhere. Besides, a big-assed Power boom draws attention. The mortal world believes an unknown assailant attacked Zack on his way to visit Connor. He doesn’t remember anything, can’t ID him. The cops have zip. No evidence, no DNA.”

No blood. She stared down at her hands. The reality of killing her stepfather would hit later. At the moment, she felt mercifully numb. “You knew about Graves? About me, when you ‘adopted’ me and Connor?”

“Yeah. The Creator’s number one commanding officer personally charged me to watch over you. Apparently, you’re vital to the big picture.”

“So guarding me was your job.”

 “At first.” His thumb rubbed the nape of her neck. “Then it got way more personal. You’re very important to
me,
too. I love you and Connor like my own flesh and blood.”

“What
am
I, Archer?”

“I’m not privy to that intel, baby girl. But right now, you’re packing stronger juice than any Supe I’ve seen roaming this earth.
Hot damn,
you whacked Stanton Graves. Ceard couldn’t even take him out, it’s why they joined forces. Blows my mind.”

“What good are superpowers if I wasn’t able to save Ro— Rowan…?” Saying his name wrenched her insides. “What does the Man in Charge want from me? Why
me?”

“I expect we’ll find out in due time.”

She dropped her weary head onto her folded arms. If she’d chosen to ignore the raven, she’d be celebrating her birthday with Van right now. Blissfully ignorant.

And Rowan would still be alive.

She blinked away scalding tears.
Stay numb.
“You said Rini was hurt? What about everyone else, how did the battle go?”

“We lost the wolf and the bear, and one of the cougars.” Archer cleared the gravel from his voice. “Came too damned close to losing the entire squad. But after MacLachlan wiped out Ceard and Zinter, the fight deflated outta the demon platoons. We cut them down faster than a bulldozer rolling through a field of daisies.” He kissed the top of her head. “Rowan was a brave soldier and a fucking awesome Enforcer. He didn’t die for nothing.”

Her heart twisted. No, Ceard had tortured him and then spitted him on his own sword because Delaney had repossessed her Power while he was fighting for his life.

Because she now shared all Rowan’s memories as well as his Power, she’d felt every cruel abuse Ceard had inflicted on him. Experienced his family’s murders as vividly as if she’d been there. How could she condemn him for stealing her Power and sacrificing himself to kill Ceard? Had Delaney been in Rowan’s place, she would’ve done the same.

She shoved to her feet. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Could stand some fresh air myself. I’ll go with.”

“I need to be alone.” Delaney stumbled toward the door.

“At least take a coat,” Archer called. “And shoes.”

She stopped. Glanced down at her pajama-clad body and bare feet.
Oh.
Archer must have changed her into pajamas. She shrugged into a random jacket from the coat rack, stuffed her feet into a pair of hiking boots sitting beneath it.

Outside, icy sheets of rain slapped her face as she trudged to the beach. Gunmetal clouds snarled overhead and violent waves battered the rocky shoreline. Fog roiled above the water, the mist as cold and thick as her grief. The ocean had always been her refuge. Now she’d never again look at the shifting waves, smell the salty tang without recalling the Mage she loved.

“I know,” she whispered to the furious sea. “I miss him, too.”

Shoving chilled, trembling hands in her pockets, she plodded through wet sand against the driving rain, following hissing breakers along the long, barren strand. One painful step after another.

Would never knowing him have been better than this unending heartache?

No.

Even the brief joy they’d found together was worth any pain.

Frozen, exhausted, she glanced up, saw the lighthouse spearing into the stormy sky. A raven paced on the widow’s walk above.

Her raven.

A big, still form had washed up on the beach near the lighthouse. Delaney’s breath caught. Was it…?

She broke into a jog. Not daring to hope, but hoping in spite of herself, she ran toward it. Skidded to a stop.

Driftwood.

Only a driftwood log, bent limbs mired in dark seaweed, hurled ashore by the tide.

She sank to her knees. “It’s not fair,” she screamed as sorrow burst free. “I waited for him all my life, and you took him!”

All alone with the water slapping the sand, she cried. Raged. Sobbed until she was spent.

Finally, a gentle tug at her hair jerked her upright. The raven stood there. Sympathy glinted in its ebony gaze.

Delaney wiped her eyes. “I know. You warned me.”

The raven cocked its head. Fluttered its wings.

“What?” Delaney frowned at the bird.

It hopped several yards, looked back at her.

“All right. What’s left to lose?” She got up and followed.

It led her to the sheltered cove where Rowan had been healed after the gryphon-like beast attacked him. To the remains of her beach fire.

Delaney spread her hands. “I don’t understand.”

The raven jumped onto a burned log. Pecked.

“Leftovers from my fire. So?”

Delaney could’ve sworn she saw exasperation on its face. Sooty feathers flapped, stirred up sodden ashes.

“Burnt wood and ashes. I repeat,
so?”

The raven nodded.

“What are you try—” Delaney swallowed hard. “Oh. My.
God.
How slow could I be?”

Delaney pivoted and raced for the cabin.

She exploded through the front door. “Did the team travel to the battle in your chopper?”

Archer jumped and the mug he was washing shattered in the sink. “Shit! Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Good! Light it up!” She dashed down the hallway, flinging off soaked pajamas and kicking off the boots. Running into the bedroom, she tugged on jeans and her fisherman’s knit sweater, crammed her feet into socks, then returned for the boots.

She ran back into the kitchen, where Archer waited, hands on hips. “Delaney, what the
hell?”

“Take me to Connor.
Now!”
When he just frowned, she shoved him toward the door.
“Move!”

He grabbed her arm. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but—”

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