Page 13 of Demon Storm


  None of the interim queens had dared challenge the prophecy until Flaevynn, but even with her meddling, the prophecy was still realized. The true rulers returned through an altered form of reincarnation.

  Maeve chuckled to herself over the look on the face of Flaevynn's Cathbad mate just before the druid's body warped and he turned into Cathbad the Druid. The original one.

  Cathbad suggested, "I can release another hundred witches and warlocks into that Atlanta city. I've had only one negative report on the first wave so the second group should be fairly safe."

  "What happened to that one?"

  "My scouts said a Belador destroyed the mind of one of ours and the warlock was run down by a large transport."

  "I thought the Belador powers were weak right now?"

  "This one is known as Vladimir Quinn and is said to have the ability to mind lock. A very powerful Belador."

  "What are we to do about him?"

  "I've already begun a plan that will deal with him."

  "Does that mean you have our Scath Force ready?" The Scath would be an elite force gifted with abilities unlike any witches or warlocks before.

  "Almost, and I think you'll be pleased with what I've done so far." Cathbad stepped back and lifted a finger he pointed at the spot on the stone floor between him and the double doors, which were only for those who could not teleport. "I introduce you to Ossian."

  The shape of a man solidified. He first nodded in acknowledgment of Cathbad, then stood very still as Maeve floated around him. She studied this person Cathbad believed capable of leading a deadly pack of Medb warriors. Short brown hair clipped neatly, hazel eyes that should be darker to fit his Mediterranean face. But the eyes gave him an exotic appeal. He was just six feet tall, but nicely built for an average body that just did manage to fill out the flimsy shirt he wore. Strange clothing.

  She turned to Cathbad. "What's he wearing? Looks like a servant."

  "Those are casual clothes for the masses of this era. They call the ensemble a T-shirt and jeans in the mortal world. Our Scath must fit in to infiltrate."

  Maeve gave Ossian another sweeping look, picking up nothing that would draw attention or intimidate. "Am I correct in assuming that appearances can be deceiving?"

  Cathbad's lips spread with a smile of true pleasure. "Aye. Our warriors, both male and female, will receive some of the gifts I have bestowed on Ossian. Show your goddess another face and change of clothes, Ossian."

  "Yes, my lord." Ossian merely turned to face Maeve and in an instant his hair thickened to a rich black, growing to touch below his ears. Thick lashes surrounded eyes the color of a deep sea that smoldered with the promise of sex and his skin deepened to the color of a Moor. He picked up three inches and his body filled out with plenty of muscle to gain the eye of any female.

  "Much more impressive," she murmured.

  "The suit he's wearing now will blend in as that of just another businessman in the mortal world, but will be deadly to the women, no doubt." Sounding proud as if Ossian were a favored son, Cathbad said, "That's nothing compared to his other gifts. Now, Ossian, let's show your goddess what ya can do in battle."

  The warlock disappeared.

  Maeve blinked. "Why did you send him away?"

  "Did ya not tell me this morning ya did figure out how to view the pit?"

  "Yes, I did." She flashed out of sight for the tiny second it took to teleport to her scrying wall. "Give me a moment." Lifting her right hand, she whispered words to the wall. Water trembled then cleared and a large room came into view with stone walls, a metal gate built of crossbars as thick as Maeve's forearm and Ossian standing in the center of the paved stone floor, looking out of place in the battle pit.

  "I believe we have a glatisant in our inventory, Maeve."

  "Three actually, but one can take down an army," she pointed out, having taken inventory of all the creatures she now possessed.

  "If it kills Ossian, then I'll at least know what weaknesses to overcome when I create a new Scath leader."

  "Very well." She uttered a word that tasted ancient on her tongue. A rending creak announced the opening of the gate.

  Loud barking erupted that sounded as if a pack of hungry dogs approached, picking up volume. A snarling monster emerged, its head and neck shaped as a muddy-brown serpent, but as it continued to enter, the rest of the body was that of a giant leopard with lion-like haunches. It stood eight feet at the shoulders and stretched twenty feet from head to the blunt tail.

  Ossian calmly lifted one hand, sliding it from the top of his head, over his face and away. With that motion, he cast aside the physical appearance of a man as his body stretched and shifted until he was nine feet tall. He grew horns that stuck out from each side of his head and his body exploded with muscle. Dense fur grew between his horns and spread down along his shoulders. He stood upright on two cloven hooves, and more fur shagged along his hips and over his groin then feathered out above the hooves. A silver ring hung from his flaring nostrils.

  She started laughing. "A minotaur?"

  "Mostly, once ya mix it with Medb warlock. A Scath Minotaur."

  Ossian roared, and the glatisant swiveled its head and opened jaws lined with fangs as it struck at the minotaur. At the last second, before the jaws would have clamped on Ossian's throat and ripped it to pieces, Ossian swung a boulder-hard fist, knocking the head away.

  Vicious barking spiraled through the pit. The glatisant lifted up on its hind legs, ready to throw its feline body down to crush the minotaur.

  Ossian opened his jaws and a blast of fire shot forth, flames blanketing the glatisant, whose barking turned into dying cries. When the glatisant crashed to the ground, shuddering, Ossian held out his hand and demanded, "Glaive!"

  He closed his fingers around a weapon that resembled a poleaxe except the blade was narrow, and he swung it with a fluid motion to behead the glatisant.

  Lifting the bleeding serpent head with one hand, he turned and lifted his chin in Cathbad's direction even though there was no way for anyone in the pit to view the queen's room. Ossian called out, "Will that be all my lord and Goddess?"

  Cathbad spoke in a normal tone, but the words boomed into the pit. "You've earned your meal. Go clean up and enjoy it."

  Maeve closed the viewing port and smiled her admiration at the druid before floating over to her throne. He would follow. Men had always followed her. "Very well done, druid. Now. What about our Alterants and gryphons? How do we get them back from Macha?"

  "First we determine that she actually has control of them all. I don't believe she does since the most powerful gryphon should be leading the flock. We either bring that one to our side or kill it and inform the next one in line of his or her options. It won't take long at that point to bring the flock to our side."

  "That plan will work only if we can get our hands on the leader." Maeve settled into the throne that appeared carved of a dragon, an actual beast that Maeve had placed a spell upon to serve as her throne before her death. The other queens had enjoyed its ability to observe when they were out of the room, but with Maeve back in power as a goddess, she could feel the throb of its heart pulse through the structure.

  And its anger stirring.

  "We'll get to the leader when the time comes," Cathbad assured her. "But for now, what are you and I to do about leaving this place?"

  She considered his question, tapping her finger on the arm of her throne. "You wrote the actual prophecy. Are you sure we won't burst into flames if we teleport out of TAmr Medb?"

  Cathbad grabbed his chin and stared off, thinking. "The spell I placed on it was quite specific so that the consequences of breaking a rule prior to our reincarnation would only affect those we put here to rule until we arrived. We should be able to leave."

  "Should."

  "Yes. Spells are generally literal in execution. I have no guarantee that we will survive teleporting away, but I'm up for the ride." He grinned at her and she remembered how a druid had come
to seduce a goddess.

  That sense of adventure was what she enjoyed about Cathbad. He feared nothing, which made him a strong partner as long as they always had the same interest in mind.

  Maeve stood and stepped away, catching the dragon's eyes on her. She told her dragon, "Don't get excited. Even if I die, you'll still be bound to spend eternity as a chair."

  His eyes glowed silver.

  He should never have crossed her.

  Stepping over to Cathbad, she took the hand he extended and told him, "If you're wrong about this, we may explode the second we arrive in Atlanta. Our combined power could destroy the entire mortal world."

  Cathbad chuckled. "Either way, we'll finally be done with the Beladors."

  Chapter 16

  Blood oozed down Storm's thigh.

  He watched it with morbid fascination. The gash on his leg was trying to heal, but his body could no longer draw on his jaguar's healing powers.

  Not without shifting.

  Hanhau had upped his game, sending four demons the last time. Storm doubted that Hanhau had noticed Evalle's presence when she'd visited, but some of the demons had.

  They stayed on edge in this fire pit coated with ice, and that made them uber-sensitive to visiting spirits. Evalle hadn't found him without calling in spirits, but how had she done that when the only spirits who could reach Mitnal were dark in nature? Storm found it hard to imagine that Evalle would ask her white witch friend Nicole to touch anything dark.

  Frigid air washed over his skin.

  He'd been shivering for so long now he couldn't remember when he hadn't, yet a fire raged inside him, a constant burning that he kept hoping would torch him. Anything for relief. The slightest touch on his skin sent pain spiking through every muscle.

  That's why demons out in the open space had sensed Evalle. Maybe not when she first arrived and traveled slowly through that throng of monsters to reach his hidey-hole, but he'd scared her so badly she'd flown out of here.

  Speaking of monsters.

  I couldn't stop my jaguar from lunging at her when all my beast could understand was that I wanted her to leave. Storm cupped his head. He hadn't been prepared or he'd have kept his animal in check.

  But the longer she stayed, the more agonizing it was to forget that she'd once been his.

  He still wasn't sure his beast could harm her when she was not physically here, but he'd stopped the jaguar only an inch short of reaching her.

  That had been too close.

  Dropping his head back against the cold stone wall, he closed his eyes and pleaded for death. If he died, he could join his father and keep him company in the realm of the lost souls. On the way there, Storm would see Kai one last time, just long enough to let her know he was gone. He'd use every second with Kai to beg her to find Evalle.

  Kai would do that. She'd find his mate and make sure Evalle never risked hunting for him again, even if she could find a way into Mitnal.

  Knowing his hellion, she could.

  He laughed, but it ended in a moan.

  She'd been so angry with him, thinking he'd quit fighting. She couldn't know that he battled with every breath, refused to give up hope of being with her again even when he knew this was no place for something as fragile as hope.

  Opening his eyes, he lifted his hand.

  Not a hand, but a paw. Claws extended and contracted. Fur sheathed the paw and continued up his forearm, fading near his elbow.

  The rest of him had shifted back the last time.

  He would never give up, but neither would his jaguar, and right now the beast was winning. One more shift might be all he had left in him. He'd heal to fight again, but if he didn't shift back to human right away ... hope would die a cold death, right along with his humanity.

  When that happened, he would give the demons his throat.

  Not even Hanhau could save him from a pack of hungry demons that would shred his jaguar, then devour him.

  Chapter 17

  "You can't stay in here forever, Tzader."

  At the sound of Macha's voice, Tzader came fully alert from where he'd nodded off again on the cushion covering the alcove in Brina's sunroom. The temperature in the castle had dropped considerably.

  Or was that just due to the frosty attitude of a temperamental goddess? One who was blocking his view of Brina's hologram.

  "Please move to the left or right, Macha."

  "Why? So you can stare at her image as it continues to disintegrate?" Macha still wore her dark clothes from saying words over each of the fallen Belador warriors sent home for their families to bury.

  "Don't test me right now," Tzader warned. Yes, using that tone of voice was unwise with a deity, but he seriously doubted that she'd risk injuring any Belador in their current weakened condition.

  "If I didn't know better, I'd take that as a threat," she warned him right back, throwing off enough energy to make the castle quake.

  He stood up to be on the same level with her. "I'm not threatening you, but I am tired of being yanked around with no more concern than a child playing with puppet strings. I have always done your bidding and that of the Beladors, but you kept me apart from Brina. If I'd been inside this castle when it was attacked, no one would have gotten near her. Definitely not a Belador too old to carry a sword."

  But Horace hadn't been too old to carry a grudge-or to go after Brina in revenge-when the goddess refused his request to bring his wife and child back to life.

  Macha bristled. "Are you blaming me for Brina's being gone?"

  Tzader crossed his arms, too numb to think about the consequences of speaking his mind. "I'm blaming you, me and Brina. We should have found a way to take down this ward four years ago." Plus he didn't believe that Brina had suddenly decided to marry Allyn, a guard. A memory of seeing her under their favorite tree near the lake smoked through his mind. Of making love to her ... recently. No, that wasn't right. They hadn't been able to touch in four years.

  Regardless, his mind and his heart were in agreement that there was something severely off about the way Brina had gone from loving him to being engaged to a guard, practically overnight.

  Now he wanted the truth. "Tell me, Macha, did Brina really want to move on from our relationship or were you playing her against me while you also played me against her?"

  "Careful what you accuse me of, Tzader."

  "You know what? I've got nothing left to lose if I don't have Brina. If you're going to torch me then do it, but if you want me to continue being the Maistir who will stand between you and Brina against any force, then I want the truth."

  Macha's face gave nothing away until she finally frowned and her hair spun into a braid then twisted into some pile on top of her head. She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head at him. "You want the truth? Then here it is. I had no way to take down the ward on this castle or to remove your immortality. Did you ever consider that I trusted you two to figure it out on your own?"

  He pulled back at that. "What?"

  "Think about it Tzader. For four years I watched the two of you live this way with you coming here in hologram or her going to you that way. I couldn't allow her outside this castle when she was at the height of her power inside it and there was no other Treoir alive. Would you have risked her being harmed or killed?"

  "Of course not." Was Macha saying ... "You did want us together?"

  "Please don't tell me I've gone through all of this to mate Brina to an imbecile," Macha muttered, starting to turn away then stopping.

  But not moving far enough for Tzader to get a clear look at the hologram. "If you weren't against us being together, why didn't you help us?"

  Macha spun around, her dark, gauzy pants spinning into a liquid shape. "I. Did. I allowed you four years to figure it out, because I foolishly believed that two people who constantly swore their undying love to each other would be motivated enough to find a way to make it happen. When you both settled into this state of... of... I have no idea what to call it. Bas
ically, you were both content to live this way forever because of being immortal. Living forever doesn't give you the luxury of sitting back for the ride. We are responsible to Beladors all over the world. Not just me, but you and Brina as well. "

  The light bulb moment blinded Tzader with realization. "This whole thing about you ordering Brina to move on with her life and have an heir, then telling me to allow her to move on was your way of solving our problem? Are you kidding me?"

  "Don't take that tone with me. It was inspired thinking. Far more than you two were doing." She glared down her nose at him. "You two did nothing to solve the problem. Your answer was for me to break an oath I made to each of your fathers. I'm insulted you even considered that I would do such a thing."

  How had she turned the tables to make him feel like a nasty slug? She'd put him and Brina through hell because that was her wacked-out idea of tough love.

  Tzader argued, "You didn't even give us a chance to come up with a plan."

  Light exploded around Macha. "I. Gave. You. Four. Years. To be honest, I began to question whether you really loved her."

  "I loved her enough to run through a ward that kills immortals to get to her!" he shouted right back.

  "Then you should have tried harder to find a way to be with her."

  Silence whipped through the tension, slicing it up and shoving his anger around.

  Tzader locked his arms tight, because he wanted to strike out at something, but dammit. Macha was right. He didn't want to admit that her screwed up thinking had a lick of logic, but seeing the situation through her eyes put everything in a different perspective.

  Tzader's father would be ashamed of him for expecting Macha to break her word. Brina's father would be disappointed in both of them, too.

  They weren't teenagers any more.

  That meant taking responsibility for their decisions.

  Like the fact that he and Brina had chosen to be complacent for four years. Why? Had they really thought Macha would fix this for them? What had they been waiting on?

  He could only blame so much on his father, Brina's father and their duties to the Beladors.

  Tzader ran his hand over his face then down to the tired muscles in his neck. When he looked up at the goddess, it was with regret pouring through his heart. "I apologize for all the times I asked you to break your vow to my father. To have even requested that lacked honor on my part. Brina and I are as much at fault for this mess." He still wanted to strike out at everyone from Macha and Allyn to the Medb, but he only had to find a mirror to locate his enemy.