Sword of the Raven (6 page)

Cleared, Delaney turned.

The guard pointed at her necklace. “Nothing around the neck. That has to come off.”

“Right.” When Delaney tried to remove the Celtic charm, she couldn’t. “The clasp is stuck.”

The guard circled behind her and fumbled with the clasp. “I’ll have to find wire cutters. Hope we have a pair somewhere. Wait here.”

“Officer...” Zack motioned the guard into a hurried, intense private conference. The only words Delaney caught were “Captain Luis” and “urgent.”

The guard brusquely strode back to Delaney. “Tuck the necklace out of sight inside your sweater.”

“I’ll be in the main intake area,” Zack said.

As Delaney preceded the woman down the long, dim hallway, she swallowed an icy backlash of fear. This definitely wasn’t routine.

She was ushered into a windowless interrogation chamber. The walls were gray, the temperature cold, and the cloying smell of desperation hung in the air. Two empty chairs flanked opposite sides of a metal table. The guard ordered Delaney to sit in the chair facing the door, then stalked out.

Shivering, she stared at the mirrored wall to her left. Goosebumps pebbled her skin. Who was watching, listening, on the other side?

She’d waited mere minutes when the door opened a crack. A burly male guard eased his head inside. Wary dark eyes assessed the room, swept over her. The guard withdrew. The door swung wide and Connor shuffled in. His wrists and ankles were shackled to clanking belly chains and he wore a prison-issue orange jumpsuit atop black slip-on sneakers.

“Connor!” Heart lodged in her throat, she shoved to her feet. Her arms ached to hug him. For the past year, she’d been allotted only a single visit per month with her brother. And always separated behind a thick glass partition, their communication restricted through monitored telephones bolted to the wall.

“Stay in your chair,” the guard barked. “Or he goes back to lockdown.”

Biting her lip, she sank into her seat. She studied Connor’s inscrutable expression while he shambled awkwardly to the opposite chair. Other than his dark chestnut hair, they shared a strong resemblance. He was awfully pallid – understandable since he was only allowed one hour a day outside in a tiny concrete exercise pit. But his lean body was still hard and toned. Not much to do in his ten foot square cell except read and work out.

Connor sat and the guard locked the jangling chains to a metal ring beneath the table. For an ex-cop who loved sports and the outdoors, having every movement, every breath restricted was the worst possible punishment.

Her brother waited until the door clanged behind the departing guard. “Lanie,” he growled. “What’s going on?”

“Ask your former partner, Benedict Walker. He was ordered to bring me here by your former captain.”

“Because they hoped you
might
listen to
me.”
Cobalt blue eyes, so much like her own, fired. “You were seen prowling around Judge Zinter’s beach house in Cape Hope this weekend. You were arrested packing
my
piece—without a permit. What were you thinking? Or are you?”

“Who told you? And
why?”
Though vibrating with fury, her voice stayed as low as his. This conversation wasn’t for the spying assholes behind the mirror. “What am I thinking? I’m thinking you trapped in this hellhole for twenty-five to life is a mockery of justice! And after ten months of investigation, I’m thinking I have a strong suspicion who framed you for narcotics possession, extortion, and murder!”

He blanched. “Tell me you’re
not
investigating. I warned you to stay out of it!”

“How can I?” She, who never cried,
dammit,
fought scalding tears. “Am I supposed to leave you to rot, after everything you did—”

Her brother bit off a curse. She’d always found it endearing that he tried not to swear around her. “I’ve said a million times, and now a million and one, the past is done.
Over.
You don’t owe me a thing.”

“You’re a decorated officer who risked your life to save so many others. You don’t deserve this. You’re innocent!”

“I am. But this is my reality now.”

“So you’re just quitting? I don’t believe it. Where’s the Connor Morgan who cleaned filthy toilets, and shoveled cement, and picked up garbage to put food on our table? Who started with
nothing,
and against all odds, earned admission to the police academy?” She swallowed the lump that threatened to render her mute. “You promised we’d never be separated, that you’d do whatever it took to give us happy lives.”

He spread his hands as far as possible with the chains. “Stop investigating and go live your life. Be happy. That’s what I want for you. All I
ever
wanted.” Urgency edged his plea. “You have to know when to fight, and when to cut your losses. We lost. Be smart, Delaney,
please.
I’m begging you.”

 “I can never be happy when you’re locked up like an animal! It’s never over until it’s
all
over.” Her breath jammed in her lungs, and she paused to regroup. “And,
oh, my God,
I have to tell you what I found out—” She leaned farther over the table, and the necklace fell out of her sweater.

Gaze locked on the dangling charm, Connor went utterly still. “Where—” His whisper emerged a hoarse croak. “Where did you get that amulet?”

“A raven showed it to me, on the beach at Cape Hope. It’s pretty, huh?” It wasn’t the only gorgeous Celtic thing she’d found. “The guard wanted to confiscate it before I could see you, but it doesn’t seem to want come off.”

“I never thought—” His voice trembled. “Even after… I never really believed…” His entire body was shaking.

“Connor?” Delaney’s pulse kicked into triple time. Terror roiled in her brother’s eyes. Her brother, who’d remained calm when he’d been arrested, was composed throughout his trial, who’d stayed stoic even when sentenced to living hell in a supermax prison, was afraid! “What’s wrong?”

He inhaled unsteadily. “Have you noticed anyone following you? Has anyone…strange…contacted you?”

You mean like a mysterious Scotsman whose eyes change color, and who somehow seems to be able to get inside my head?
She never could lie to Connor worth a whit. Her expression gave her away without a word.

“Fuck.”
His fist slammed onto the tabletop, making her jump. “It’s all been for
nothing!
How am I supposed to protect you now—”

“Protect
me?
What’s
all been for nothing?” Shocked realization punched into her, sent her reeling. “Is
that
what you’re doing? Did someone threaten me to coerce you to quit fighting to clear your name?”

 “Lanie, listen to me.” The torment gravelling her brother’s voice, the anguish stamped on his beloved face, tore her apart. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“You’ve got to
stop
investigating. And no matter what
anyone
tells you, no matter
what
happens—”

He inhaled another trembling breath. “No matter what kind of freaky shit goes down during the next forty-eight hours…stay far, far away from me.”

Chapter 4

Rowan MacLachlan stalked the perimeter of the mammoth prison, avoiding the watchtowers’ spotting scopes. He’d raided an emergency cash stash and bought jeans, a black T-shirt, and heavy boots that sheathed a tactical Ka-Bar knife. A long black duster concealed the new Beretta Storm stuck in his back waistband.

A hunter needed camouflage, and he hunted among unsuspecting mortals.

No use cloaking himself to get closer. At five hundred meters, his enhanced eyesight clearly saw details…and healing his internal injuries consumed all his spare energy. His long-term memory was perfect. He just couldn’t recall who’d recently tried to off him, or exactly why. Hell, someone—or
something
—was always trying to kill him.

Detective Walker had taken Delaney into the penitentiary over thirty minutes ago. For an untutored novice, she was surprisingly adept at barring Rowan from her mind. Although she couldn’t hide from him. Yet.

But Delaney Morgan was no average novice. Humans couldn’t feel the push when his Power touched their thoughts…and no one had
ever
connected with him telepathically. The bonny, spirited redhead also aroused dangerous desires he’d long-ago strangled and buried.

He shook his head. Been there, done that…this time he was bulletproof. Any time his cock wanted to take the lead, the echoing screams of his dying family would ice him out, fast.

Delaney was the key to his redemption, nothing more.

When he’d awakened on the beach and seen her bending over him, even his concussed brain hadn’t failed to recognize a rare Gift from the Otherworld. She didn’t seem to realize the talisman locked around her neck belonged to the Morrigan. And the vanquished goddess of prophecy and war possessed the only weapons that could avenge the savage betrayal of his Clan. His hands fisted at his sides. Overhead, the sky darkened and thunder cannoned.

His cousin Braden’s memory taunted him.
A wee slip of that arctic control, eh, mo bràthair?”
Rowan’s lips slanted wryly. He commanded his knotted muscles to relax, and the horizon lightened from black to battleship gray. Of his three cousins who’d been closer than brothers, Braden had experienced the harshest lessons in learning to maintain control.

With every heartbeat, Rowan’s chest ached at the barbaric deaths of his brothers-in-arms.

All
his
fault. A flood of rage forced a second thunderous blast. He would make self-appointed “King” Balor and his sorceress whore Ceard bleed thrice-fold for every murder. Or die trying.

Half a klick ahead, malevolence billowed off the structure in a cloud of oily smoke. The thick veil of evil nearly obscured random shimmers of power. But not completely. Delaney wasn’t the only mortal within who possessed the
Aillidh. The Shining.
However, hers was unique, and the strongest he’d ever encountered. The other lights were the customary nebulous white. Delaney’s aura glowed brilliant gold. Her pure burnished light had pierced his despair from thousands of kilometers away, enticed him to the rocky Pacific shore.

Rowan glanced up as a raven’s graceful silhouette swooped across the leaden sky. He loved Oregon’s green hills, rainy climate, and snow-capped mountains, so much like his native Highlands. Homesickness twisted inside. Too long since he’d set foot on Scottish soil. But nothing would be the same.

He was all alone now.

Besides, he had to stay because of Delaney. If she didn’t get help learning control soon, she could kill someone. Perhaps kill herself. Or if God forbid, one of the Fomorii obtained her powers... He shuddered.

Like his own, Delaney Morgan’s future had already been cast. They couldn’t fight destiny.

He stopped pacing and offered both palms skyward, chanting a refrain as familiar to him as breathing. That bitch Paiton had cost him nearly a year of imprisonment in a scorching hell on earth before he’d summoned enough of the ancient Magic to escape. How he’d longed for rain. His throat still burned with constant thirst.

Mist drifted downward to envelop him in cool, moist clouds, and he sighed. Delaney would break free from
her
prison soon—in every way. Then the final battle would begin. Only time would reveal the victor.

Rowan had less than two score of nights to make her his.

Before they were all damned.

* * *

Trapped inside the thick prison walls, tremors raced through Delaney as furious thunder clashed overhead. She frowned at her brother. “I don’t understand. Why do you want me to keep away from you?”

“I can’t explain and you wouldn’t believe me anyway. Go straight to Archer’s apartment, deadbolt yourself inside and stay there. No matter
what.”

“And how long am I supposed to stay locked up?”

“Until he tells you it’s done. Promise me, Lanie.”

She fought suffocating dread. “Until
what’s
done?” There had to be a reasonable explanation. Life behind bars had made her cop brother paranoid, and she…she just had the unholy mother of all migraines. Migraines caused odd symptoms, right? “So Archer knows about this…threat?”

“Enough to keep you safe. Don’t trust
anyone
else.”

“Connor, we’ve never kept secrets from one another. Talk to me. Let me help you.”

Connor’s knuckles whitened on the rim of the table. His voice dropped to a mere breath and he leaned even closer. “Reach your right hand toward me, palm up.”

“We’re not allowed contact,” she murmured back.

“I need you to do it.”

Her brother was the one person she’d always trusted without reservation. Loved without limits. Holding his gaze, she surreptitiously slid her hand across the forbidden space between them.

His glance snagged on her bandaged wrist, and he stiffened. “Who hurt you?”

“Nobody. Just another chapter in Lanie and Van’s Excellent Adventures.”

His smile didn’t disguise lurking grief. “Keep having those adventures, okay?”

“I’m not a child any more. I’ve got your back. Trust me.”

Tender affection warmed those vibrant blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Lanie. I have nothing left to give you. Except this.” He quickly slashed his fingertip on the table’s rough edge. Murmuring a lilting language she’d never heard before, he grabbed her hand and painted three bloodied symbols in the center of her palm.

Delaney stared at her brother’s blood…marking her with symbols exactly like Rowan had marked the cabin.

She gulped. “C-connor—”

The door whipped open, banging into the wall. Three guards barreled inside. Two rushed Connor while the third blockaded the doorway. The biggest man unlocked her brother’s chains from the table, then they hauled him up.

“Dumbass move, punk.” The big officer grabbed Connor’s hair, brutally jerking his head back. “Playtime’s over.”

Connor didn’t protest. Didn’t utter a sound when they savagely jostled his body between them as they dragged him toward the doorway.

One of the guards tripped Connor with his own chains, making him stagger into the wall and hit his head. “Oops.” The trio laughed, but her brother remained silent. Former cops expected abuse in prison.

Delaney leapt from her chair. “He’s not resisting, don’t hurt him!” She rounded the table toward her brother.

“Stay back,” the door guard ordered. Lunging into her path, he shoved her, hard.

She stumbled, fell to her knees.

And Connor lost it. “Don’t touch her!” Even chained, he fought viciously. In the seconds it took Delaney to scramble up, he bucked off both officers, elbowing one in the solar plexus and head-butting the other’s nose.

The gasping guards dropped. The officer who’d shoved her charged Connor.

No! I can’t go through this again!

Delaney threw off paralyzing déjà vu and flung herself at her brother. He feinted left to dodge her, but she anticipated his move. Bulldozing him to the wall, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Connor!
Stop!”

From behind her, the officer thrust his fingers into her hair and yanked. Pain tore across Delaney’s scalp, involuntary tears flooded her eyes, but she clung to her brother.

“Lanie!” Connor snarled, trying to dislodge her. “Let go!”

“Won’t!”

Dark blurs shot past her peripheral vision as more guards surged inside. “Get her off,” a man’s voice yelled. “And take him out!”

The agonizing strain on her scalp increased. A fist rammed into her ribs. Her eyes slammed shut on a blinding flash of pain and rage.
Keep away from my brother!

She heard screams, guttural grunts. Then the room went silent.

“Christ,
baby sister,” Connor whispered.

Delaney opened her eyes. For a panicked moment, all she saw was blackness. Finally, her vision wavered into focus and she glanced over her shoulder. The stunned guards lay sprawled on the floor—several with blood leaking from their noses.

Scared and bewildered, she looked back at Connor.

He shook his head, eyes wide. “What have I done?”

Boot steps pounded through the doorway. “Get them both down!” a hoarse shout demanded.

“Need a Taser in room one!” another guard yelled.

Connor went rigid.
“No!
I’m rolled up, Boss. It’s cool. I’m rolled up.”

Everything’s fine.
Delaney instinctively projected the thought. “Everybody relax,” she croaked.

Nothing happened here.

Sudden calmness blanketed the crackling violence.

“Step away from the inmate,” the first gruff voice demanded.

“Don’t hurt him.” Holding her brother’s gaze, she slid her arms from around his neck. “I was stupid. You stay smart.”

Still appearing dazed, he nodded.

She eased aside. Four officers crowded past to seize him, then muscled him around the other three guards who were just gaining their feet, and toward the exit.

“Connor!”
she cried. “What I tried to tell you before— Your parole is going be denied next week.” She shakily blurted the rest. “And they’re taking you out of isolation and putting you into general population!”

He flashed a final, resigned smile, meant to reassure. Instead it broke her heart. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Love you, Lanie. What was mine now belongs to you.”

Then they dragged him from the room.

The rest of the guards staggered out, locking her inside.

Left alone, torment worse than any physical beating lanced through Delaney. Who knew when she’d be allowed to see Connor again? If ever. Grief punched into her.
Damn you, Judge Zinter! You and all your corrupt flunkies can fry in hell.

Ninety seconds slowly circled around the clock over the mirror.

Shouting, male roars, slamming metal and running feet broke the uneasy silence. Alarm bells jangled, sirens wailed.

The female officer darted inside. “Inmates are rioting, they’re taking hostages! C’mon!” She grabbed Delaney’s arm and towed her down the corridor, back through locked thick glass panels, and into a receiving room. “Detective,” she yelled at Zack. “Get her outside!”

He snatched her from the guard and hauled her through more hallways, more doorways, the metal detectors, then out the front door. He didn’t stop until they reached his rain-dappled car in the parking lot. “What the
hell,
Lanie? You start a riot?”

I don’t know.

What
had
she done?

More importantly,
how?

Freezing, she wrapped her arms around herself. If she could somehow inspire destruction, perhaps…

Keep my brother safe.
She envisioned golden light surrounding him in a bright Kevlar shield.
Protect Connor.

Her body temperature plummeted as the throbbing in her temples grew unbearable. She was so cold the misty rain felt warm on her chilled skin, wrapping her in a soft, heated cocoon. For a moment, she was comforted.

Aye, you’ll be all right, lass.

Rowan’s voice.

She snapped her head up. Was that him in the distance, silhouetted against the fog-draped hills?

Her stomach heaved, then she bent double and was beastly sick.

Supporting her, Zack held her hair back and murmured soothing words. Finally the horrible episode ended. “Okay now?”

“Yeah,” she lied.
I might never be okay.

Zack wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. “Did they rough you up in there?”

All she could manage was a negative head-shake.

“Honey,” Zack said softly. “If someone hurt you, you need to tell me.”

The thick walls masked any sounds from inside. She prayed her brother was safe inside the rioting prison. “The guards abused Connor. I got stupid.”

“Did you see name badges?”

The quick glimpses burned in her memory. At her nod, his jaw tightened. “It won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t put yourself on the line for him before. Why now?” She shoved unsteadily out of his embrace. “Captain Luis told you to bring me here so Connor could order me to quit investigating, correct? Did you know they’re moving him into gen-pop? An ex-cop won’t live a week!”

His cop face was so good she couldn’t tell if she’d surprised him or not. “How do
you
know they’re moving him?”

“It doesn’t matter. Can you stop them?”

Somber hazel eyes darkened. “It’s complicated, Delaney. Listen to Connor and back off. Before someone gets seriously injured…or worse.”

After the past hour’s events, she was too afraid to verbalize her gut response to that. She clamped her lips together. If Zack had chosen the wrong side in this battle, he’d get his…along with depraved Judge Zinter and her crew.

Sadly, the utter depths to which humanity would sink was no longer surprising. “Just take me back to Central Precinct.”

Take her home.
Rowan’s deep demand echoed around the empty parking lot.
Drop the charges.

Delaney started. She watched Zack intently. How could he possibly not have heard?

“How about if I take you home instead?” Zack asked quietly.