Chapter 1
San Francisco
The vision came quick and strong and Rhiannon Castle’s heart beat so hard her chest ached.
She dropped to her knees on her apartment floor and tried to breathe as the vision swam before her eyes.
Ceithlenn. The evil goddess from Underworld.
Her hair literally flamed, her eyes were a deep red. She had fangs, claws, and huge leather wings.
The goddess was terrifying and fascinating all at once.
Rhiannon felt the force of Ceithlenn’s hunger as if it were her own belly that rumbled painfully. The knowledge that Ceithlenn hadn’t fed in the three days since leaving Underworld flowed into Rhiannon through the being’s thoughts. Darkness was Ceithlenn’s friend as she swooped through the San Francisco skyline searching for a victim or two.
The goddess dropped silently in a crouch behind a man with a pink Mohawk. She watched him for a moment while she perched on the cracked sidewalk with her clawed hands resting between her thighs. In Underworld there had been no humans to dine on . . . and they looked delicious.
Rhiannon stomach churned.
Ceithlenn extended her sharp claws as she moved her hand to the side. She slowly scraped her nails across the cement, making a deep, ominous scratching sound.
It came to Rhiannon, then. Ceithlenn was waiting for her victim to acknowledge her. She wanted to experience the delight of the man seeing death staring him in the face. She studied her prey intently and swiped her tongue between her lips before giving a low roar like a tiger.
The moment Ceithlenn growled, the guy came to a sudden stop. From out of his jacket sleeve he flipped open a switchblade and whirled to see what or who was behind him.
The moment the guy saw Ceithlenn, his eyes went wide. “What the fuck?”
With one flap of her great wings Ceithlenn leapt and bore down on the man, slamming him to the concrete.
His knife skittered across the sidewalk. He started to shout but she sank her fangs into his throat before a sound could leave him.
Rhiannon nearly screamed as blood spurted. She felt the warm fluid in her mouth, flowing down her throat, with a thick metallic taste. She sensed Ceithlenn’s thrill as she dined on the human’s flesh. The sickening sweet taste of flesh followed by blood.
And then power. Ceithlenn sucked up the dying man’s soul, drawing it into her until his final death rattle. The potency of absorbing the human’s soul was electrifying. The burst Ceithlenn felt in her magical strength was unreal.
As realization dawned so did her delight . . . she could absorb a human’s soul and magnify her own powers. That was something she had never been able to do with any other living creature or being.
Rhiannon trembled and almost threw up as the vision held her captive and Ceithlenn dined until filled. Until all that was left were bones with bits of meat clinging to them.
Rhiannon felt the goddess’s satisfaction and triumph—and the thrill of her discovery.
Souls. She needed more human souls.
For a moment Ceithlenn scowled. Looked around her, then sniffed the air as if sensing or scenting someone.
Rhiannon recoiled. Was Ceithlenn feeling Rhiannon’s presence?
Ceithlenn scowled again then took to the air, flapping her great leather wings. Rhiannon felt Ceithlenn’s rush of ecstasy as she circled the city. Sated for now and satisfied with her discovery, the goddess headed to her lair.
Ceithlenn looked over her shoulder, as if looking directly at Rhiannon and growled.
Rhiannon felt the darkness then, the recognition of the Shadows buried deep inside her—
And that the goddess recognized it, too.
Rhiannon gasped and cried out as she jerked back to reality. Her eyelids popped open to see that she was in her own apartment.
Her sight blurred and she could hardly breathe. Bile rose in her throat as she tried to ignore the tastes still in her mouth, but she couldn’t handle it any longer.
She scrambled up from the floor of her living room and fled for the bathroom. She fell to the linoleum, hit her knees, and puked into the toilet until nothing was left. She felt as though her stomach would come up her throat.
Rhiannon spit the acidic taste from her mouth and found she no longer felt or tasted flesh and blood on her tongue. But the thought caused her to dry heave so that her sides ached from it.
When she stood to rinse out her mouth in the sink, she caught a glimpse in the mirror of her moon-white face. The usually pale scars slashed across one cheek by the queen of the Fomorii demons stood out like red trails. Sweat had broken out on her forehead and glistened in the bathroom light. She looked away from the mirror, washed her face, swished water in her mouth, and brushed her teeth.
Her mind was a jumble as she stumbled from the bathroom, into her bedroom.
Had Ceithlenn seen her?
Worse yet, had the goddess seen the Shadows?
Before Rhiannon reached her bed, she dropped to the carpet and passed out from exhaustion.
And fear.
Chapter 2
Otherworld
Keir laced the leather ties of his breeches as Lise lay curled up on the bed, watching him. His Pleasure Partner’s elbow pressed into the mattress, her head resting in her palm. She gave him a sultry and satisfied smile, telling him she wanted more.
Keir had far more pressing matters to be concerned with than the beautiful, naked woman on the bed.
While he had been training more Tuatha D’Danann warriors, he had not been to the San Francisco Otherworld for three months. Time had run out and he was to return with his warriors to the city come morning.
Lise’s soft pale body was entirely bared allowing him to see the blond curls between her thighs. Her lush breasts with their large pink nipples were tempting enough that for a moment he considered climbing back into bed with her.
Pleasure Partners like Lise willingly chose to serve in Pleasure Houses designed to fulfill the fantasies and needs of all comers. Keir did not mess around with fantasies. What he wanted when he came to a Pleasure House was a good fuck.
“Sure you are not ready for another round?” Lise said in a voice that came out like a purr. She pushed herself to a sitting position and lightly ran one of her fingers down his bicep as he yanked on one of his boots. “I want to take you again, warrior.” Obviously Lise had decided to drive him out of his mind by bringing his cock back to full attention. But he did not have time to indulge in bedding her again.
“I have business to attend to, woman,” Keir said gruffly, yet it did not deter Lise.
Her warm vanilla scent wrapped around him as she pushed his shoulder-length black hair aside and pressed her lips to his neck while he pulled on his other boot. “Your reputation as a lover was not exaggerated. Despite your show of roughness on the outside, you are one of the most incredibly passionate partners I have had. It is no wonder all the women in this Pleasure House would willingly spread their legs for you.” She sighed. “Bastard son or not, any lady, from high born to Pleasure Partner, would love to have you between her thighs.”
Keir scowled, feeling the familiar rise of anger at the mention of his parentage. Not that anyone but the man who fathered him and his wife cared about Keir being a bastard. Between him and his half-brother Hawk, he had definitely not been the favored child as his stepmother was quick to remind him. It had created a bitter rift between him and Hawk—the son of a true union. A rift that had lasted to this very day, centuries later.
Keir had learned as a boy not to form sentimental attachments of any kind. Even his blood mother, a Mystwalker, had abandoned him.
The only ones he trusted were his D’Danann warrior brethren. He trusted them in battle and with his life. It was ironic that Hawk was counted among the brethren.
“You are a mystery. A puzzle to be solved,” Lise said.
He jerked on his leather tunic, forcing her to move away from him. Before she could touch him again, he stood and strode to a chair where he had flung his weapons belt before taking the Pleasure Partner to bed. The room was too frilly for his tastes. Pastels with wildflowers and white furnishings—a woman’s room. Vanilla-scented candles flickered on every surface and the smell mingled with the scent of their sex lingering in the air.
Keir fastened his weapons belt around his waist and did not bother to look at Lise again. They had gone three rounds and yet she was begging for more. The thought should have given him some measure of satisfaction, but as usual he felt nothing more than the easing of his needs and the desire to go back to the training yards.
“I wonder what kind of woman it would take to tame you?” Lise said casually.
The comment caught Keir off guard and he cut his gaze to Lise. Her lips were pursed and she looked as if she truly was interested in her own question.
Again, Keir did not bother to answer. No woman would tame him.
He pulled more than enough coins from a pouch in a pocket of his breeches and dropped them on a table beside the bed. The coins clattered across the surface and one rolled to the edge.
Lise caught it with a delicate sweep of her hand and closed her fingers over the gold. “Trust me,” she said with a quick grin. “One day you will meet that woman and she will have you on your knees.”
Keir gave a slight bow from his shoulders. “Madame Lise,” he said before turning away. His boots thumped on the wooden flooring as he strode out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Women.
He would need to return shortly to San Francisco with the younger Fae warriors he had been training in the skills needed to defeat Fomorii demons. Unfortunately, none of them could be trained to fight Ceithlenn until the D’Danann were able to discover her weaknesses. And Keir would be damned if he did not find a way to determine what those weaknesses were.
Keir strode from the well-kept Pleasure House toward the training yards. Dust swirled around his boots on the dry path and sunshine warmed his bare arms. The clang of swords rang through the air, becoming louder as he approached the yards.
Word had come to him only yesterday that Silver Ashcroft, Hawk’s mate, had scried with her cauldron that Ceithlenn was, as feared, in San Francisco. Another witch he had not met had experienced a vision that spoke of foul deeds this evil goddess had already committed.
When Keir reached the yards he noticed with satisfaction that his new warriors looked fit and ready for battle. He would only be taking ten more D’Danann with him to fight the Fomorii and Ceithlenn, but this contingent would have to be enough. They would join the other warriors currently stationed in the city. The Chieftains would allow no more to pass through the veil. As it was, their leaders did so grudgingly, since crossing the veil to an Otherworld like San Francisco required the aid of Elves or those with Elvin blood.
Prejudices between the Elves and the Fae ran deep, and it was a wonder that any form of agreement had been reached for travel between worlds. The rivalry extended back, over millennia, and had started with a battle over the Key of Justice.
Keir folded his arms across his chest as he watched two of his warriors spar. The pair battled at the center of a small circle of D’Danann Enforcers who cheered them on. Rhona was lighter on her feet and quicker with her sword, but the young man Tegan was gifted with speed of flight.
Rhona and Tegan clashed swords and for a moment were locked in a battle of power and will. She whipped her sword around his and shoved Tegan away. In a beautiful display of strength and agility, she performed a quick back-flip, landed in a crouch, and swept her sword at Tegan’s knees. Tegan had already unfurled his great gray wings and rose to easily dodge her blow. He attacked from the air, but Rhona rolled on the dusty ground, out of his reach, sprang to her feet, and released her own pair of beautiful russet wings that matched her hair.
Pride filled Keir’s chest at the sight of his warriors.
These days, the D’Danann Enforcers rarely left the Sidhe, usually only to answer calls for aid from other beings in various Otherworlds—if approved by the Chieftains. Now that the damned Fomorii demons had escaped their purgatory, it was the duty of the D’Danann to take them out.
But before those beasts had even been routed, the D’Danann and the San Francisco witches had an entirely new threat to deal with.
Ceithlenn.
Yet not the Ceithlenn who had been imprisoned in Underworld with her husband Balor all those centuries ago. This time Ceithlenn’s soul had taken over the body of a young, powerful female warlock and some other evil essence had joined the two. He had seen it for himself before the door to Underworld was closed. The threat was unmistakable, yet it was unknown how the D’Danann and witches would fight this new being.
Rhona and Tegan continued to spar in the air, a perfect dance of power and grace. But not fierce enough to suit Keir. He had to ensure they would be prepared to battle anything they faced. Even the loss of one life was one too many and he would not see one of his brethren fall if he could help it in any way.
He spread his great black wings at the same moment he unsheathed his sword and in two wing thrusts was at the center of the mock battle.
“You must be ruthless,” he growled as he blocked sword blows from both Rhona and Tegan who now worked as a team against him. “The Fomorii will not spar with you.” He drove his sword at Rhona’s midsection. She barely blocked it, and the power of his stroke was so great that she grunted with the effort.
“With one swipe of their claws,” Keir continued as he spun in the air to parry with Tegan, “The demons will bring you down. Never forget that many of the Fomorii tip their claws with iron now and their claws are poisonous to Fae.
“Show them no mercy.” In two swift blows, Keir had both Rhona and Tegan dropping from the air to land on the dirt of the training yard. “You can expect none from them.”
The two warriors looked chagrined as Keir touched down between them, sheathed his sword, and folded his wings away. Rhona’s and Tegan’s hair were plastered to their foreheads, the sides of their faces glistened with sweat, and they were breathing heavily as they folded their wings away. They must have been sparring for some time before Keir arrived because it was difficult to exhaust one of the D’Danann.
“Come.” He slapped both Rhona and Tegan on their backs. “It is time for food and ale. In the morning we go to war.”
The other warriors laughed and began joking with one another good-naturedly, and Keir felt a strange warmth in his chest. The D’Danann warriors were his family. The only real family he had ever known, and the only beings he had ever allowed himself to trust. He respected them, relied on them in battle, and had confidence they would watch his back. No matter his rivalry against his brother, Keir trusted even Hawk in war.
Outside of war and training, Keir tended to keep to his own, but not when these warriors needed him to be the glue in their camaraderie and in battle. They were young and required the spirit of teamwork in every way.
After a fine meal of fresh cornbread drizzled with honey, roasted chicken, spinach, potatoes, and bread pudding, Keir made his way to his cabin in the woods outside the village.
Rather than living in the barracks with many of the D’Danann warriors, or in a treetop home, and certainly unlike residing among those in the court in their great mansions, Keir had long ago chosen a cabin in the woods. It was a simple home, a distance from other people of the village. It was difficult to be away from all Fae, but he chose to ignore the Dryads, Pixies, Faeries, and any other beings that might be nearby.
Sometimes that was not so easy to do.
Tonight, though, he thanked the gods the Pixies were not up to mischief around his home, decorating it with flowers or some odd nonsense. Not one of the mischievous Fae had dared to enter his sanctuary, but they had no compunctions about the area around his cabin.
Wood scraped wood as he forced open the door and then slammed it shut behind him. The three-room cabin was large and airy. He didn’t require much . . . just an open-beamed great room, a bedroom, and a place to take a piss and to bathe. All the furnishings were large, chunky, and made for a man.
He strode to his bedroom and grabbed his haversack, intending to pack some of his own supplies. The last time he was in the San Francisco Otherworld, he had been forced to use the perfumed soaps and shampoos of the witches.
The moment he opened his pack, a tiny Faerie poked her head out of the bag.
“Godsdamnit, Galia.” Keir scowled and opened his pack wider, releasing her lilac scent. The blond Faerie rose out of his haversack with a mischievous expression on her perfect features. Pink Faerie dust sparkled in the air from her wings. She was no longer than his hand from the tip of his middle finger to his wrist and had long blond hair that reached her naked ass down to her knees and covered her bare breasts. “What in the Underworlds are you doing in my home?”
She fluttered up to his eye level and grinned. “I thought I would come for a visit.”
Keir turned away and stomped to his bath chamber. “Out of my home.”
Her laugh was like tiny bells and her green eyes sparkled. She darted ahead of him and landed on a cake of soap. It slipped and she giggled as she skated on the soap the length of the wooden shelf. She wove in and out of his bath items, barely missing his body gel and shaving gear, but knocking off the brush he used for his teeth. When she reached the end of the shelf she placed her palm out and threw up a shield to keep herself from sailing off and onto the floor.
“Galia!” He jammed his finger in the direction of the doorway. “Out!”
After coming to an abrupt stop, the Faerie hopped off the cake of soap. “Are you going back to that Otherworld? The one called San Francisco?”
“In the morning.” Keir grabbed the brush from off the floor and jammed it and the other bath items into his bag. “Now, leave.”
She fluttered after him as he packed extra clothing and weapons. Pink Faerie dust glittered wherever she flew, and she darted just about everywhere, exploring his cabin despite his orders for her to leave.
When he finished shoving items into his haversack, he tossed the bag in the great room by the front door. He yanked the door open and pointed out into the growing darkness. “Back to your Sidhe. Now.”
Galia fluttered up to his face and startled him as she kissed his cheek with a feather light touch before using her delicate wings to back away. “Such the big, bad warrior. You need to have a little fun.”
“Out,” he growled when for some reason he wanted to smile. That thought had him scowling again.
The Faerie giggled, then swooped out of his home and into twilight, pink sparkles and the scent of lilacs following in her wake.
Keir shook his head. Galia had teased him often outside of his cabin, but like other Fae she had never been in his home. As it should be.
Pink dust. Damn. It would be weeks before he got the female-smelling lilacs out of the air. Thank the gods he was leaving.
He had far more pressing matters to be concerned with than one of the mischievous Fae.
Ceithlenn.
Godsdamn, but they had to discover her weaknesses and fast. Keir was tempted to rouse his warriors and head to the San Francisco Otherworld tonight, but his men and women needed at least one good night’s rest before they went to war.
After removing his weapons belt and setting it on a table, Keir went to a small corner of the great room where a chair was positioned by the window and carved wooden figurines perched on the sill. Among other things were small figures of an elk, a squirrel, a hawk, and a raven. Keir settled into the chair, leaned forward, and reached for the box where he kept the tools of his craft.
His thoughts consumed by the task ahead, Keir barely paid attention to what he was doing. When he was but a boy, a Dryad had shown him how to bring the creatures to life that “lived” in the wood. No one, save for his Dryad teacher, was aware of his aptitude for this art form. It was simply something he chose to do to relax.
Keir removed a large piece of cedar from a pile of assorted wood the Dryads had given him, grabbed one of his carving tools, and slid the metal into the cedar. He concentrated on bringing it to life.
Only this time, for the first time, it was not an animal he carved, but a face. As the features formed he found himself shaping the head and shoulders of a woman he had never met.
He couldn’t seem to stop himself, not even to rest. It was as if the face had to be released from the cedar before he left in the morning.
When Keir was finally finished, the wood polished until the features shown in the dim candlelight, it was late into the night. He blinked his tired eyes and stared at the face for a while. He stroked the cheek with his thumb, the polished wood as smooth as a woman’s skin.
Why had he carved a face? The face of a woman he did not know?
He shook his head, put away his carving tools, and set the face on the windowsill before heading to his bed. Despite the urgency he felt, he needed what rest he could get before leaving come morning.
They were going to war.
Chapter 3
San Francisco
With a grunt of exertion, Rhiannon helped Sydney move a long table from one end of the once closed off common room to the other. They set the table down with a loud thump and Rhiannon put her hands on her jean-clad hips, rolled her shoulders, and moved her neck from side-to-side to relieve some of the stress. Her chin-length auburn hair swung as she moved her head.
It was only the night before last that she’d had the vision of Ceithlenn and the images still turned her stomach and caused the Fomorii scars on her cheek to burn.
The common room was filled with chatter of witches, warriors, and Paranormal Special Forces, PSF, officers all working together. As much as she wanted more D’Danann to get here and get here quick, she had no idea where they were going to put them. They’d probably have to sleep on the floor of their shared apartments until more rooms were ready. She and the others would have to make the basement into a living area.
Yeah, they needed more space. Never mind the friggin’ grocery store and cookie factory they needed to buy to feed the warrior Fae. Thank the goddess for the wise investments most of the witches had made over the years.
Dirt streaked Rhiannon’s cheeks and sweat rolled down the side of her face. But she felt the satisfaction of a job well done as she gazed around the room where everyone was working to clean up the place. They had moved out old furniture, boxes, and assorted other items that had been stored in the room. A lot of the furniture could be used in apartments by the residents and had already been assigned.
Jake Macgregor, the PSF Captain, had inherited the building that was in the Haight-Ashbury District. He had a storeroom large enough to temporarily house what was left of the miscellaneous and unusual objects found in the common room. The witches and D’Danann used a combination of magic and muscle and had set the room to rights in record time.
“Much better,” Rhiannon said to Sydney. Spirit, Rhiannon’s cocoa-colored cat, jumped onto a nearby couch. Her familiar gave a loud meow, perhaps agreeing, perhaps not.
“It came along quite nicely. Just a few things to take care of.” Sydney leaned one hip against the table and adjusted her chic glasses. “Hopefully we’ll be done before the new bunch of warriors arrive.”
Sydney had gorgeous raven hair and violet eyes that were only partially hidden by her glasses. She was the CEO of an advertising agency on Market Street in downtown San Francisco and usually wore fitted suits. Today was Saturday and she still managed to look great, dusty or no, in a pair of designer jeans and a lilac polo shirt.
Next to her, Rhiannon felt frumpy in her snug purple jeans and her bright yellow I-heart-San Francisco T-shirt. It had been a little warm today, the sun out from behind the fog, and her skin was a little red from having been in the sunshine. She was so fair that just a little sun went a long way.
She wiped her palms on her jeans and gave a big sigh. So much done, so much more work to do. Other rooms needed attention, and she was certain they weren’t going to get it all done before the additional D’Danann Enforcers arrived.
Jake Macgregor had just today opened up the common room in the apartment complex. His uncle had closed off the room when he had owned the complex and used it for storage. With all the additional D’Danann warriors on their way from Otherworld, and the number of warriors, officers, and witches already stationed at the apartments, there was no way they’d be able to use the kitchen of Enchantments as a meeting place any longer. They’d been pushing it as it was.
Sydney’s Doberman familiar, Chaos, bounded into the room, headed straight for Sydney. The moment he reached her, he jumped up and planted his front paws on Sydney’s belly, leaving two dirty prints on her shirt. She laughed and rubbed the big lug behind his ears.
Spirit hissed, laid back his own ears, and arched his back. “Oh, get over it.” Rhiannon shushed the cat, who had never taken to the Doberman. Much like he wasn’t crazy about Janis Arrowsmith’s mouse familiar, Mortimer. Rhiannon had been concerned more than once that Spirit would forget the familiars-don’t-eat-familiars rule when it came to Mortimer.
Chaos was harmless, but unfortunately lived up to his name. Well, he was harmless unless his mistress was threatened in any way.
A cheer rose up as Cassia strode in with trays of food followed by Copper and Silver who were laden with platters as well.
Rhiannon grinned as Tiernan, one of the D’Danann, took the tray Copper was carrying despite her insistence that she could do it herself. He was having the hardest time getting her to take it easy and stay off her ankle cast. The copper-haired witch had broken her ankle in Otherworld when she went to battle to keep a door to Underworld closed.
Tiernan just ignored Copper’s protests and carried the platter to the table that Sydney and Rhiannon had just moved.
Copper hobbled after him, her long braid slipping over her shoulder. “Dammit, Tiernan. I was doing just fine.” After he set the tray down he kissed her soundly and Copper melted into him.
A twinge of envy gripped Rhiannon before she brushed it aside.
Nothing lasted forever. People left. They left all the time. Her birth parents had abandoned her on Aunt Aga’s doorstep when she was only two. Growing up, she had learned almost nothing about them, let alone how she had inherited her Elvin blood. Aunt Aga was her mother’s much older sister, and she had made it very clear that she resented the burden of raising her niece.
And then when Rhiannon’s strange ability had appeared, Aunt Aga had been so horrified, Rhiannon knew that this power was something bad. Maybe even something evil. When she turned eighteen, Aunt Aga had been only too happy to tell Rhiannon that she had to leave. Rhiannon had been able to move onto a houseboat owned by a nice elderly couple she had befriended until Silver gave her a job at the Coven’s metaphysical shop.
Over the years, Rhiannon had dated here and there and had had two serious relationships. One had ended with her catching the guy with another woman and the other man had left her for a woman who had kids. The only thing in her life that had seemed to last was her love for her Coven sisters and their love for her . . . Well, there were a few exceptions to the rule, like Hannah. That witch rubbed her the wrong way. Always invading her personal space—her “little box” as Hannah liked to call it.
Her Coven sisters loved her in return, but what if they found out about Rhiannon’s ability? She looked around the room at her friends. She had worried about that more than once.
It was one thing to turn to dark magic.
It was another thing to carry the darkness inside.
If they found out about the Shadows lurking within Rhiannon, would her chosen family still feel the same or would they react with disgust and horror the way Aunt Aga had?
Rhiannon never intended to find out.
She shook her head as all the D’Danann and PSF officers dug into the food. Trays of turkey sandwiches, huge bowls of Boston baked beans, potato salad, and macaroni salad. Platters of deviled eggs, fresh baked bread rolls, large arrangements of assorted vegetables and dip, bags of potato chips, pitchers of iced tea, soda pop and orange juice. And not to forget the dessert—chocolate, red velvet, and marble cakes. Oh, and the witches never left out the chocolate chip cookies, a huge favorite of Hawk’s. Cassia was having to cook full-time these days.
Yeah, all the D’Danann warriors definitely lived up to their legendary appetites.
Now if the D’Danann would only find their Cauldron of Dagda, the witches wouldn’t have to fear going bankrupt with the warriors eating so much. The Cauldron of Dagda was a treasure the god Dagda obtained from the city of Murias and used to feed his army of Tuatha D’Danann. The food in the magic cauldron never ran out and it had healing powers, as well as restoring the energy and strength of anyone who ate from it.
Damned if they couldn’t use that all the way around.
A large commotion started at the doorway to the common room and Rhiannon looked casually over to see a new group of leather-clad warriors entering the room. The D’Danann already stationed in San Francisco greeted the men and women with slaps to their backs and the kind of handshakes people used to do way back when—hand to elbow grips. Rhiannon liked the way they spoke with unusual accents, mostly thick Irish brogues.
“Godsdamnit, Keir, what took you so long?” Hawk growled when he strode up to one of the warriors who Rhiannon had never seen before. Her heart thumped a little more than usual when she looked at the stranger. “You should have been here two days ago,” Hawk continued.
“Always jumping into the fray without preparation, brother.” Keir’s scowl. The way he fisted his hands told Rhiannon the term ‘brotherly love’ might be a bit lost on these two. He tossed a worn leather pack against the wall and Rhiannon thought she heard a faint “oof.” She shook her head as she swung her attention back to Keir who was saying, “Seems you have yet to learn your lesson about planning.”
“He had to ensure these warriors were ready.” Tiernan pushed his way between the two men. He had selected a couple of sandwiches and placed them near a pile of potato chips on his plate. Having been born to a high D’Danann Court, Tiernan’s Irish accent sounded more refined than the others. “These warriors are young,” he added.
Hawk grumbled something Rhiannon couldn’t make out and then he turned his back on the man who had called him brother. She hadn’t known Hawk had a brother. Or maybe it was just one of those things—they all called each other brother and sister D’Danann. But it was the way Keir had said brother that made her think it was more than that.
She was going to turn and ask Silver if they’d figured out where all these men and women were going to stay, but she couldn’t quite take her gaze off the new warrior.
And then, for some reason she caught his attention.
Their eyes met and she couldn’t even blink, she was so mesmerized by his dark eyes. A connection sizzled between them that made her heart beat even faster.
The man studied her in a way that made her feel like he was stripping off her clothing layer by layer. Her cheeks heated as his gaze slowly perused her from head to toe and then his eyes met hers. He had the deepest, darkest eyes she’d ever seen.
His black hair reached his shoulders, and goddess what impressive shoulders he had, not to mention that broad chest. His sleeveless leather shirt showed his finely carved biceps and his forearms had a light scattering of black hair that led down to strong hands. What could he do with those hands . . .
Rhiannon’s belly did a little flip.
Like the other warriors, he was clad in leather pants and wore a weapons belt with a sword on one side, a dagger on the other. His pants fit snugly, showing thighs that certainly must be muscled, and the pants were tucked into scuffed leather boots that reached his knees. And what an impressive package was outlined against those leather pants.
When her gaze met his again, she saw that his expression was fierce, proud, and arrogant. Definitely arrogant. He wasn’t what she’d call handsome. He was rugged, unruly, untamed looking. He had one scar that slashed one cheek and reminded her of her own scars and of the heat that constantly burned beneath them.
This warrior was a bad boy. Definitely a bad boy.
Rhiannon tried to think of other things—like playing her favorite video game and killing spiders with little blue swords. And tried really hard to not think about how hot that guy was. But for a long moment they held one another’s gazes. Rhiannon couldn’t breathe. Her nipples tightened beneath her grubby T-shirt and she felt a shaft of desire shoot straight down to her belly and on to the place between her thighs.
With a tremendous effort, she cut her gaze away from the warrior’s and was able to suck in a deep breath. She was positive he was still staring at her—her entire body burned as much as her cheek.
Rhiannon cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose you know who that guy is with the scar? The one Hawk called Keir,” she said to Silver.
Rhiannon’s friend pushed her long, silvery-blond hair over her shoulder. She was “eating for two” as she’d say now that she was pregnant, and had her plate stacked with food. She and Hawk had gone to Otherworld to be soul-bonded just recently, and Copper and Tiernan had done so as well. Rhiannon wished she could have attended, but with the battle against the Fomorii, it wasn’t possible for the other witches to take any chances and leave.
“Keir is Hawk’s half brother and the two never get along.” Silver glanced in the direction of the warriors then raised one eyebrow as she turned back. “Keir looks like he wants to eat you whole, honey.”
“He’s new?” Rhiannon could still feel the heat of his stare, but she tried to sound casual as she spoke. “He hasn’t been around since I got back.”
“That’s right.” Silver cocked her head. “You were off trying to get aid from the other Covens when he arrived around Samhain. You missed the battle, and before you returned he went back to Otherworld to train some of the younger warriors who’d never fought Fomorii before.”
“Oh.” Rhiannon wasn’t used to being at a loss for words. Nor was she used to being stared at like she was a rich chocolate dessert. The heat of his gaze made her feel more like chocolate icing sliding down the side of a cake as it melted.
“Uh-oh.” Silver glanced back in the direction Keir had been standing, then to Rhiannon. “Looks like you’re going to get to meet him.”
“What—” Rhiannon started but Silver slipped away into the crowd of people in the common room.
In the next moment a shadow fell over her and she caught the rich musk of male along with fresh air and forest breezes. She slowly turned to face the man who now stood just inches from her. Invading her “little box,” as Hannah would say. Definitely invading her space.
She took a step backward and found herself with her heels against the baseboard of the wall behind her. He moved in closer. She looked way up to meet the warrior’s dark eyes and she drew herself up to her full height of five eight. Damn but he was still a good eight inches taller than her.
“Mind giving me a little space here?” she managed to say, even though her heart was thumping like crazy.
He said nothing, but braced one hand on the wall above her head, making her feel caged. And hot, definitely hot, in more ways than one. He reached up and trailed one finger down her arm causing goose bumps to rise along her skin.
“Stop it.” She tried to shrug away from him as he stared at her and touched her more intimately than a stranger should. “What do you want?”
“You.” He moved his hand from her arm to her hip as if he owned her and brought her a few inches closer to him. “And I always get what I want,” he said in a deep, sexy brogue.
This time a different heat slid through Rhiannon’s veins. She gritted her teeth and shoved his hand off her hip. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you’re hitting on the wrong female. I don’t like men who think with their dicks instead of their heads. Been there, done that.”
She tried to move away from him, but he captured one of her wrists in his big hand. “Tell me your name,” he demanded.
Oh, no way was he going to treat her like this. She’d had it with men after the two who’d cheated on her.
She tried to jerk her wrist away, but he held her tight. “Your name,” he said again.
Rhiannon jerked harder. “Screw you.”
“I would like that,” he said and gave her a smile so wicked it was like spellfire was going berserk in her belly.
Rhiannon clenched her jaw and tightened her resolve. “You’d better back off, or you’re going down, big boy.”
An amused expression crossed his features. “One so small as you could best a warrior like me?”
Small? That was something she’d never been called. “I’ll give you two seconds and if you don’t release me, believe me, you’ll be more than sorry.”
Keir gripped her wrist tighter and moved his hand from the wall above her head and reached for her other hand.
Before he even came close to her, she let loose a burst of gold spellfire straight at his groin.
The expression on his face was priceless. Shock followed by pain followed by shock. The big bad warrior dropped to his knees and braced his hands on his thighs. Despite the fact he was clenching his jaws, a tight groan squeezed from between his lips and he fisted his hands.
Rhiannon smiled and stepped around him, wiped her hands as if dusting them off. “My work here is done.”
#
The pain coursing through Keir’s body was like none other. He’d been kicked in the balls before, hard enough to damn near drop him to the ground. But this—this witch had done exactly that with a flick of magic from her fingers.
Lise’s comment about a woman driving him to his knees chose that moment to enter his mind and he gave a low growl.
He ground his teeth and forced himself to his feet. Gods, he could not begin to walk across the room at this moment. He probably would not be able to fuck for a week.
And that’s exactly what he was going to do with that witch. He had no doubt she wanted him and he was going to make sure she enjoyed every minute of it. He would never take a woman by force. It would be just a matter of time before she admitted to herself that she desired him as much as he desired her.
Godsdamn.
Was he out of his mind?
She tried to fry his cock, for the love of Fae.
But he still wanted her.
From the moment he had seen her across the room he had known he had to have her. He had never felt such an intense need to possess a woman as he had done in that fraction of time. He had seen her nipples grow into taut nubs beneath her shirt and the way she had widened her eyes and her pupils had dilated had told him she wanted him.
And she had seemed familiar . . . something was familiar about her face. . .
The face in the wood. The image he had carved last night had looked almost exactly like this witch. What in the name of Underworld?
When he finally managed to stand, he braced one hand on the table and straightened to his full height no matter how bad he wanted to be on his knees again. Gods, the pain. He looked at the sea of faces in the room. Damnation, he could barely focus. Just about everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at him.
The warriors, witches, and human PSF officers looked away and started talking again, most grinning. There was the unmistakable sound of laughter from a few. He saw Hawk’s amused look and wanted to slam his fist into his half-brother’s jaw.
The pain in his groin would not let him take the steps needed if he tried.
Keir took a deep breath and focused on his words as he turned to face Copper whom he had met after the battle at the door to Underworld. Copper looked like she was trying not to laugh, but fortunately for his pride she managed to keep her expression straight.
“Who was that wench?” he asked, finding it harder to talk than he had thought.
“Er, wench?” Copper grinned. “Damn, Keir. Your balls might just get another blast if she hears you call her that.”
The mere thought brought a fresh round of pain and he could barely keep from wincing.
“Rhiannon.” Copper cocked her head to the side. “What did you do to piss her off like that?”
“I simply told the woman that I planned to bed her.”
Copper released a burst of laughter. “Really? You’re lucky a zap to your nuts was all she did.”
Keir nearly growled. “I am hungry,” he said even though at this moment he was not sure he could eat. Doing his best not to limp, he grabbed a paper plate and started spooning what was left of the baked beans onto it.
