Wicked Magic (15 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

BOOK: Wicked Magic
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Cassia picked up the mortar, pinched some of the ingredients between her fingers and sprinkled the powder over
Rhiannon. Some of it landed on the end of her nose and she sneezed, almost blowing out the candle.
“Burn the piece of fingernail,” Cassia said in the most authoritative voice that Rhiannon had ever heard her use. “Do not stop whatever might happen.”
Whatever might happen?
Rhiannon swallowed and used the little tongs to pick up the envelope. She felt the hardness of the nail as she clamped it. The tongs shook as her hand trembled when she raised the paper containing the piece of fingernail over the candle flame.
The moment the envelope burst into flame, Rhiannon heard such an incredible shrieking sound in her ears that she almost dropped the tongs.
Her eyes burned and she felt as if her heart was being ripped out. She couldn't hold back a cry of pain and held her free hand to her forehead.
The
Shadows
! Oh, goddess, the
Shadows! Ceithlenn was taking them, releasing their blackness in Rhiannon's head. The Shadows squirmed and oozed in her mind, filling her head with dark shot through by white-hot shards of pain.
Vaguely she heard Keir's growling voice as he shouted at the witches to stop. By the sounds of the other male voices, she knew Hawk and Tiernan restrained him from intervening.
Flames continued to rise even when the envelope was long burnt away. The shrieking didn't let up. The darkness closed in on her, the Shadows ready to break free.
No! I won't let that happen!
Although her vision was clouded, she could see the piece of nail still in the tongs. Sweat poured down the sides of her face from the effort it took not to drop the tongs because of the shrieking and Shadows in her head.
Her vision grew blurry.
Rhiannon's mind swam and she felt as if something was beating on the inside of her skull trying to get out—or stay in.
Maybe both.
She struggled to focus even though she could barely see.
She ground her teeth and lowered the nail further into the candle flame.
Anu!
Rhiannon cried out in her mind to the goddess for help.
Don't let the
Shadows
out, Goddess, please. Don't let the
Shadows
out. Just rid my mind of Ceithlenn. Please!
Tears streamed down Rhiannon's face as the knocking against the inside of her skull magnified. Her whole body shook but she still kept the fingernail over the flame.
She jerked in her seat. Fought the power of Ceithlenn as the evil goddess clenched her grip tighter on Rhiannon's mind, while at the same time trying to force the Shadows out.
And then what? Dear Anu. Then what?
Rhiannon brought her other hand to the tongs so that she was holding the utensil in both hands. But still she shook so hard the nail wavered. Tears flowed freely down her face.
Doing everything she could to ignore the shrieking sound, the Shadows, and the pain, Rhiannon dug deep inside herself, reaching for her faith. For the aid of the Ancestors and the protection of the Elementals. For the power of Anu that lay deep inside her. For the strength of the triple-goddess. For every bit of faith she held tight in her soul.
The fingernail crumbled to ash, falling into the pool of wax at the top of the taper. The ash vanished.
The shrieking in her head turned to high-pitched feminine laughter. Loud laughter. Evil laughter. Laughter that pounded on the inside of her skull.
Rhiannon dropped the tongs on the table. She grabbed both sides of her head and squeezed her eyes shut.
She screamed, “Get out of my head!”
But the laughter continued, and the Shadows threatened to burst from her mind and her body.
She buried her face in her hands and cried, huge wracking sobs.
No, no, no!
she told the Shadows.
Go back. Go!
But Ceithlenn shoved and shoved. Laughed and laughed.
As if it were happening somewhere outside her body—
far, far away—someone wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into his embrace. Keir. It was Keir. So far away she heard her Coven sisters speaking. Keir's growl and his harsh words.
Rhiannon gripped his T-shirt in her hands and buried her face against his chest as she cried. She was barely aware of him carrying her. The moment they left the store, light burned her eyelids and her skin tingled from what sunshine made its way through the fog.
He murmured words to her in Gaelic, words meant to soothe, but nothing would make the laughter stop or the Shadows go back where they belonged—hidden, where no one would find out about them. Where they couldn't harm anyone she knew and loved.
When they reached her apartment door she didn't have the strength to use her magic to open it. All she could do was cling to Keir.
She heard the knob jiggle and then she jerked in his arms and a cracking sound bit the air as he kicked open the door. In moments he had her in her bedroom, laying her on her bed.
Rhiannon sobbed harder and clenched her fingers in his shirt, holding him close. Her nails bit into his flesh.
Keir eased her over on the bed to lay down beside her and hold her in his arms.
Terror ripped through Rhiannon like a jagged knife.
A cry tore from her as an invisible force shoved her to a sitting position. Her back went ramrod straight and hair rose on her scalp.
Two Shadows burst from her chest.
She screamed from pain and fear.
One manlike Shadow slammed the bedroom door and locked it. Then pressed against the door as if to barricade it.
The second Shadow attacked Keir.
He gasped and clawed at his neck, right through the black Shadow that choked him.
Wheezing sounds came from Keir's throat as he struggled against a foe he could not fight with fists, sword, or dagger.
Rhiannon screamed, “No. Oh, goddess,
no
!”
The laughter in her head went on and on and more Shadows fought to escape.
Tears poured from Rhiannon's eyes as she shoved down the Shadows still inside.
At the same time she tried to draw the freed Shadows back to her.
She had to save Keir!
Banging and shouts from the D'Danann and witches came from the other side. The knob rattled. Blue and gold light bled from the spaces around the door and through the keyhole. The witches were attempting to use their magics to force their way in.
The first Shadow remained pressed up against the door. It was so powerful, it held them all back.
Keir thrashed on the bed. His face was purple, growing darker and darker. He clawed at his throat.
Rhiannon's body shook as she frantically tried to regain control of the Shadows.
“No!” She reached out her arms to call the Shadows home.
With all the strength she possessed, with every fiber of her being, she summoned the Shadows back to her.
The laughter in her mind sounded strangled as the second Shadow's hold on Keir's neck slackened. He took deep wheezing breaths.
Both Shadows fought her, but she could feel them weakening.
With one last burst of effort she yanked them to her.
The two Shadows slammed into her chest, knocking her back so hard her skull struck the headboard.
Keir was silent, his eyes closed.
He was motionless.
Heart pounding with fear for him, Rhiannon reached for Keir. She felt for his pulse, and found it. Relief surged through her. His pulse beat sure and strong.
Her head still ached but the laughter vanished.
The door to the bedroom burst open. Her Coven sisters and two of the D'Danann rushed into the room.
Rhiannon slid down the headboard so that her head was on a pillow. She curled into a ball beside Keir, exhaustion filling her from the toll the Shadows had taken by escaping. Every part of her body ached.
Silver rushed to the bedside. She held one hand to Keir's forehead and reached for Rhiannon with the other. “You—Keir. What happened?”
“I don't know.” Rhiannon could barely get the words out. She couldn't tell them how the monsters inside her tore loose from her body.
“Was it Ceithlenn?” Sydney asked from behind Silver, the name causing the screeching pain in Rhiannon's head again.
“I-I think so,” she said through her tears. It was partially the truth. The goddess
had
manipulated Rhiannon and forced the Shadows from her soul.
Cassia pushed through the throng and reached Rhiannon and Keir. She held her hands over Keir and iridescent sparkles swirled from his body and back—mixed with black clouds.
One of the witches gasped, but no one in the room said a word.
“I don't understand.” Cassia shook her head. “Such … darkness.” She raised her palms and the darkness rose as if she was pulling it from him.
A lump filled Rhiannon's throat and her heart pounded harder. Should she tell them?
Cassia continued to draw out every bit of blackness within Keir.
Then all that was left were iridescent sparkles between Cassia's hands and Keir's body.
Keir groaned, but did not open his eyes. Cassia lowered her hands, looking as if she might collapse herself. Rhiannon had never seen the half-Elvin witch look so tired.
Cassia came around the other side of the bed to Rhiannon. She trembled, afraid of what Cassia might see within her.
Oh, goddess, I can't lose my only family, my Coven sisters.
But what if Ceithlenn forced the Shadows forth again and they hurt one of them?
Rhiannon forced her mouth open to speak, but no words would come out. It was as if something was holding tight within her chest the words she needed to say.
“Roll onto your back,” Cassia instructed Rhiannon.
She trembled. This was it, then. Her secret would be known to everyone.
Cassia held her hands over Rhiannon. Warmth traveled from Cassia's hands to Rhiannon's chest.
Blinding pain slammed into Rhiannon like a firebrand in her chest. She arched her back and couldn't stop herself from crying out. Deep black clouds marred Cassia's magic and the half-Elvin witch's eyes widened.
The more Cassia struggled to draw the darkness from Rhiannon, the more powerful the pain in her chest and head. Red-hot knives of pain stabbed her chest and made her burn. She screamed and thrashed until Cassia finally stopped.
Cassia moved her hands away from Rhiannon. Her expression was filled with shock, her voice with concern. More than concern. “The same blackness, only much, much darker than what touched Keir.” Her gaze met Rhiannon's. “I can't draw it out.”
Rhiannon clutched her chest with her hands. Dear Anu, how she hurt. In her mind, body, and soul.
“The—the goddess. She's still there.” Rhiannon's voice sounded more like a croak. “She didn't go away.”
Cassia nodded but still looked puzzled. She cast a look over her shoulder. “Someone please get Rhiannon some water.”
When Cassia turned back to Rhiannon she said, “I'll get my healing herbs, potions, and oils. Maybe I can relieve at least some of your discomfort.”
All Rhiannon could do was nod and close her eyes.
The chill of the breeze off Alcatraz Island hit Darkwolf full in the face as he, Ceithlenn, and Junga prepared to go to the cavern beneath the island where all the Fomorii and the other creatures toiled.
After Ceithlenn loaded herself up on human protein and souls, they would join the beasts.
Darkwolf nearly shuddered.
He hoped to the gods it was only a visit and not to stay.
It was dusk and the last tour group was loading onto the cruise boat—Ceithlenn's target. He, the goddess-bitch, and Elizabeth-Junga had used transference to get to the island. Until it was time, they were staying close to the dock, but out of sight of Alcatraz's park rangers.
Darkwolf never took his eyes off Ceithlenn. She was in some kind of trance, eyes closed. Her features twisted from furious to pleased to furious again. She clenched her hands into fists, deep growls rising from her throat. Her body shook, and her lips thinned into a tight line.
Whatever was happening, it didn't look good at all.
If that wasn't the understatement of the century.
She let loose a terrible laugh that grated along Darkwolf's spine. Like the screech of a Banshee.
Then her face turned from hideous delight to blackness.
She jerked out of her trance and gave a scream that rang in Darkwolf's ears. She thrust out one of her arms.
A bolt of magic shot through the dusk across the island.
It slammed into the last tour boat that had just pulled away from the dock.
The boat exploded.
Screams and cries rent the air. The tourists on board had been either blasted into tiny pieces or burned alive. He saw park rangers running for the boat.
Darkwolf tried not to flinch. Elizabeth-Junga stirred beside him. From the corner of his eye he saw what he thought was fear in her gaze.
Fire reached for the sky, licking at the fog like a demon's tongue. Sounds of bodies splashing into the water and constant screaming met his ears.
Not a great way to end the day with this bitch.
“So close. I almost killed her and the one she has feelings for.” Ceithlenn's hair was mostly flame now, matching the fire on the water. Her eyes glowed red, her incisors dropping down so that she looked like a vampire having a serious bad hair day. “The witch shoved me out!”
Way to go, witch,
Darkwolf thought but held back his smirk.
“I've got to get more souls.” Ceithlenn actually sounded panicked now, her eyes wide. “I used up too much of my energy transporting those worthless demons for the attack on the witches.”
Her gaze went to the tour boat. “Those souls were mine to take. Now that's all fucked up! I don't even know if I can get us back to the penthouse.” Her voice lowered to a growl. “I used up my power and not one of the witches died.” Her attention snapped to Elizabeth-Junga. “Your demon soldiers failed. You selected worthless scum for the attack.”
The flames raging on the water highlighted Elizabeth-Junga's features. “My apologies, my goddess. I picked those who have shown the most strength as we have prepared for the great battle to come. When we will retrieve Balor.”
Ceithlenn sneered and moved closer to Elizabeth-Junga.
“Obviously your soldiers need more training. Apparently you have not been doing as well as I had thought.”
“Yes, my goddess.” Elizabeth lowered her head, but Darkwolf saw fury on her face as she looked down. “I will go below to the cavern at once to work on their training.”
Ceithlenn gave a growl that sounded like a beast from Underworld. “No.”
Elizabeth's head jerked up and both she and Darkwolf stared at Ceithlenn. By the tone of her voice, he had no doubt she was up to something.
“As I have mentioned before, I have plans for the two of you.” Her voice became eerily serene, her expression focused and calm.
Darkwolf's gut churned. Aided by the essence in Balor's eye, Darkwolf had participated in, even commanded human blood sacrifices to call the Fomorii from Underworld. He had influenced or forced powerful witches to become warlocks. He had corrupted, stolen, killed.
But the way Ceithlenn sucked souls from large groups of people, leaving withered husks, and the way she ate flesh from her living victims sickened him like nothing else had.
Even with Balor's eye hanging from the chain around his throat, Darkwolf regretted summoning the Fomorii and ultimately Ceithlenn. Nothing was working out the way he had planned. Not a Balor-bedamned thing.
The goddess's hair turned from flames to punk red and her incisors retracted. “I need another venue,” Ceithlenn said. “A greater number of souls that I can devour in order to follow through with my plans.”
Darkwolf's stomach tightened even more. He had an idea that he wasn't going to like any of her plans one damn bit.

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