Wicked Paradise (34 page)

The Fomorian dipped his head and grinned at her. “Oh, darling, you will rule with me as will your beloved Michael, if you prefer his outward appearance to mine. I rather fancy his human form, all tied up in a knot in my backyard.” His hands moved down to her breasts, and a claw ripped the buttons off her blouse, shredding the material.

Lauren heaved in air that seemed to be diminishing quickly. Her mind spun, searching for a get out of hell card. “I’ll do whatever you ask, Alexander. Just let Michael go. I’ll serve by your side. We’ll rule the Druids just as we’d planned. Michael will be nothing against the two of us. He could even be a useful minion in time. Remember, his gene pool is exactly what you wanted at the incubation farm. He’s the epitome of perfect Druid power to compliment your blood stock.”

“Perhaps he’s too powerful, eh?” Alexander pinched her nipple hard. “I certainly don’t want his blood to dominate any Fomorian younglings.” He squeezed her breast. “However, my love, you are the perfect female specimen. Not too powerful, not too diluted. Not too weak to die from me fucking you over and over, birthing one little Fomorian after another.” He took her hand and placed it on the bulbous head of his grotesque penis, covering her small hand with his huge clawed paw. “Are you willing to take me in my current form? Do you think you’re woman enough to handle me inside you?” He thrust into her hand. “And live?”

Air wedged in her throat and her knees buckled. The implications revolted her so much, she’d rather kill herself and all her people than let the Alasorons touch them in their quest for a master race. The
one
race.

Alexander’s hand on hers kept her stroking his disgusting penis. He leaned in and planted sloppy kisses on her neck, his lips hot, sticky. She battled the bile rising up her throat. All of a sudden, his lips grew cool on her jaw, his dick began to soften and shrink. A cold wind blew through the evil energy saturating the air.

Alexander gasped, staggered. “No!” he bellowed. His hands dropped away from her as he lurched backwards. Clutching his head in his hands, he cried out as if talking to someone behind her, “What’s happening? Who’s cutting our bond?” Confusion marred his expression of evil. Blood drained from his face, down his neck, mottling his crimson hatred. Internally, he appeared to battle something horrific, evidenced by the emotions flitting across his face, the cowering way he wrapped his arms around his torso.

Stunned and unable to move her rubbery legs, Lauren internally searched for a crack in his magic. She found dozens. Without giving it another thought, she scrambled backward and grabbed her purse. Her fingers latched onto the two vials of death. Gritting her teeth, she splashed the clear potion in Alexander’s face, across his chest, the last drops glistening on his now deflated prick.

The Fomorian Overlord roared and fell to his knees, clutching his throat with one hand, grabbing for Lauren’s leg with the other. Alexander began to dissolve into himself and his shrieks of anger became squeals of agony.

The doors crashed open, glass shattering. Michael raced in, throwing a defensive armor around both of them, and an invisible prison around the dying Fomorian. “What’d you do?”

Air grew in short supply. Lauren waved one hand in front of her face, the other held to her chest.

“Sweetheart, breathe, breathe.” Michael shook her, eased her against him.

She leaned her forehead on his shoulder until her heartbeat began to even out and air inflated her lungs.

“Something broke the barrier, distracted him,” she finally managed to answer, her shock holding her upright. “Did you do it?”

“No. I felt his magic shatter.” He hugged her tighter. “Oh Gods, I thought we’d screwed up when he erected the shield before you used the potion. I never should have let you do this alone.”

Mewling grunts and groans erupted from the shrinking Overlord. Michael pushed away from Lauren, his magic engaged and ready to strike.

Alexander melted into a gelatinous mass on the slate tile floors, seeping into the grout until there was nothing left but cracked tiles and black powder. For good measure, Lauren sprinkled the vanquishing potion on the floor, where it fizzed and evaporated. The vials now empty, she dropped them, and tiny shards of glass shattered across the tile. She lunged into Michael’s awaiting arms, and sobbed her relief against his chest.

Chapter 32

Ryan held a cool, wet cloth on Morgan’s forehead. He hugged her fiercely, holding on as if WindWraith might spirit her off to hell any second. “Too much ether?”

She buried her face against Ryan’s chest, basking in his familiar texture and scent. Morgan had much to tell him and things she needed to hear from him. She wanted him to stay on the island with her because he chose
her
over his people. Until now, she had a hard time reconciling between the two. How could she prevent him from helping his people if they desperately needed him to survive their bleak life? Matters were different now with both WindWraith and his son Alexander destroyed. However, Ryan may still feel a duty to his people even if she revealed her visions. Air hitched in her throat, her chest constricted.

“Are you okay?” Ryan searched her face.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “It wasn’t the magic that knocked me out. I had another vision.” She touched his rune tattoo, tracing the marks, smoothing her fingers over the amulet. “As the island’s power increases and aids me, my visions have become stronger and more numerous. I don’t normally pass out, since they usually come while I’m asleep.” Despite the absence of evil in the air, she had to ask the question. “Did we destroy WindWraith?”

“Down to the last cell. I don’t think anything will ever grow in that Druid circle.” He chuckled and patted the grass. “Sorry, island.”

Plucking at her twisted T-shirt, she eased back. “We must talk.” She had to tell him about Michael, Lauren, and the safety of his people. There was one thing she needed him to know before his hopes rose and he hatched another plan to leave the island.

Ryan’s eyebrows knitted together. “O-kay.”

Morgan scooted out of arms reach. RavenStar perked up at her movement, butted her shoulder, and she shooed him away. She hugged her knees to her chest, hooking her wrists around them, her dread trampling a slice of her confidence. Ryan stretched out on his side, nonchalantly chewing on a blade of young grass. Anticipation paved his face.

“First, your people are safe now that WindWraith is dead.” His eyes bugged out, and Morgan held up a hand to forestall him. “I will explain in a moment. You must also know that I cannot leave the island. I will never join them in New Angeles.” The words tripped out. She waited for his reaction, but he kept nibbling on the infernal blade of grass, excitement brightening his eyes.

Finally, he spat out the sprig. “We’ve done our duty here.” He gave her an expectant look as though he required her to agree with him on the spot.

Annoyance rose inside her. She quelled it, realizing they hadn’t yet had this discussion. “Killing WindWraith was only part of it. I have other duties.”

He flicked his hand sharply through the air. “Gwilym said you can’t return to your time, your home. What more can you possibly do here?” He jumped up, towering over her. “Avalon’s magic is safe. The island doesn’t need to draw magic from it to hold the barriers in place any longer. Your people will be fine.”

“I know my people are safe now.” She lifted her chin, tossed her hair over her shoulder. “They are not my only concerns.”

Ryan shrugged and rose off the grass. “What’s left? My people? You’ll come home with me. They’ll accept you once they learn what we did. Once they learn about our bond, they’ll accept you as my wife... mate.” His tone left no room for objection.

Ire twisted in Morgan’s belly, and she leapt up. Hands on her hips, she glowered at him. “I have more duties on the island. It’s the other reason for our being here.” A hush spilled over the sound of birds chirping in tandem with the distant crash of waves on the shoreline.

Ryan stroked her arm, his touch warm and welcome. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Sadness overcame Morgan. “I was also sent here to reunite the sorcerers of ancient Druid blood across lands. The Ancients are lost and alone in your world, just like you and I were. Now that the island is free, it will become their haven. They’ll find their way here to populate it, thrive, and love.”

He circled his arm around her waist. “I thought the barriers hid the island. And why do you need to stay?”

“The barrier continues to hide the island. The last earthquake fixed the holes WindWraith caused when he battled with the island.” She placed her palm over his heart. It beat erratically, betraying his frustrations. “My magic will draw them here to safety, to a new life away from your world’s devastation.”

“Then the portal works?” Ryan canted his head.

“Not in the way you think.” Morgan wrung her hands, futilely searching her memory for a hint WindWraith had disclosed to her. She traced the rune marks on her amulet. “My magic will pair the lovers who are bound to the island. The island will aid me.”

Ryan scratched his neck. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Others will be tossed up on shore clutching a damned amulet, half dead like me?”

“I don’t know for certain how they will arrive. They will all have an amulet. Fate has charted their course. The same as ours.”

Ryan caressed her cheek, his fingertips sweeping her windblown hair off her face. “Once you carry out your duties, we can use the portal to return to my home, and I can protect my people. They can sustain for a short time without me.”

Heat rose up Morgan’s neck and she put her thoughts on the battlefield. “I cannot physically leave the island. If you try to take me through that wretched portal, you will kill me, and possibly yourself. We were destined to remain here. We must not tempt fate. You don’t even know if that bloody cave is a portal, or where you will end up if it is.”

Ryan’s hand tangled in her hair painfully. “Is this one of your visions?” Morgan touched his wrist and he released her hair, clenching his hands loosely at his sides.

“Yes. My father told me the same.” She looked daggers at him, daring defiance. “We are meant to lead these Druids once they arrive.”

A long moment of silence ensued. Ryan’s face gave nothing away before he spun around. “I need a moment. Wait here.” Once again, he stalked off, spine straight, shoulders flexing.

Remorse prodded her heart. She had only herself to blame for not being forthright about their destiny, or not understanding it herself. For not trusting him sooner.

RavenStar butted into her leg, shaking her off balance. Suddenly, her memory jogged loose. Something her father had shoved into her head, information that jibed with WindWraith’s ranting—the reason why she couldn’t leave the island even if physically able.

* * *

Ryan refused to leave the one person he loved and cherished beyond reason. Nor this plentiful island paradise he’d begun to love. After spending years putting others’ needs and expectations ahead of his own, he’d take the selfish road and put his needs first. The Druids owed it to him, whether they believed it or not. First, he had to attempt to go home, had to know if Michael and Lauren betrayed their people or not. Had to find out if his coven could return to the island with him.

He halted at an outcropping of trees bordering the base of the waterfall he’d passed in his blurred race to the volcano. Birds trilled happily in glittery trees, undaunted by his presence. Ferns and buds grew radiant and larger. The scent of salt and flowers cleansed the dank jungle air. Was it his imagination, or did everything on the island look, sound, and smell new—livelier and happier—now that they’d shipped the evil to hell?

Not much of a religious man, he knew divine intervention had occurred in his life. What else explained his good fortune of finding the love of his life? Or saving his people? Remaining in view of Morgan, Ryan sat on a tree stump and beseeched the Druid Gods to give him wisdom and discernment. He asked for peace and protection, asked the Gods to scrub the evil from Michael and Lauren, which had caused their betrayal. He thanked the Fates for his biological father, James MacFarland, for giving him the blood that enabled him to fulfill this bizarre task, which still left him unsure as to how it helped his people in the short term.

Finally, he thanked Fate for leading him to the island. For bringing him his one true love. He pressed his fingers to the rune marks on his flesh. Immense love coursed sweet and warm through his chest. His bond to Morgan sizzled to life inside his heart, accelerating his pulse.

Ryan rose and wheeled around. Morgan knelt on the ground where he’d left her, arms looped around RavenStar’s neck. Even from this distance, her sorrow and disappointment chilled his blood, and he hated himself for making her feel that way. Never again. They both deserved happiness, peace, and everlasting love on this isle of destiny.

He began a fast walk toward her and ended up sprinting the final distance. She rose to meet him, and he scooped her up, spinning her in the air. “Baby, don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere.” He grinned at her as she brushed her tears away in an attempt to hide her sadness.

“You mean it? You won’t try to use that portal to go home?”

“I want a life with you here. Away from that hell.” He set her down, curved her precious body into his, loving the feel of her against him, inside him. “I won’t do anything you disagree with. Deal?”

“Oh!” Morgan tapped his chest. “More of my father’s information came to me just now, making me remember something WindWraith told me.”

Ryan groaned. “I’m not sure I want to hear it.”

“You’ll like it.” She jiggled against him in her excitement. “WindWraith also believed the crystal cave was a portal. That was how he planned to escape the island...in my body.” She swished her tongue in her mouth as if to wash the taste of evil from her teeth. “Merlin’s magic ensured WindWraith couldn’t escape the island without one of ancient Druid blood on both ends of the portal.”