Midnight Magic (3 page)

“How can I help?”

“Mind link with me. Lend everything you’ve got to this casting. We must stop them here before they do more damage.”

Jeremy didn’t hesitate. Humans didn’t realize it, but Druids stood between them and certain annihilation if Abaddon grew strong enough to loose his crew on the world.

The demons must’ve been weakened by the magic they’d expended. Maybe because Jeremy was fresh, their song, while still compelling, was no longer irresistible. He didn’t stop with linking his powers to the Arch Druid’s casting. He wove himself into the fibers of the working until their magics became indistinguishable.

It was a bold move. If he expended too much of himself, he’d never be able to separate from Breen again. Worse, if one of them died, the other would too. The other Druids who were still on their feet were depleted. None were strong enough to levy more than token resistance.

Jeremy ground his jaws together and strengthened his bond to Breen. All or nothing. No holding back.

The demons worked as a group, lobbing death in a huge circle. Anything they touched went up in greasy, noxious smelling flames. The need to mount a defense practically obliterated offensive maneuvers, and Jeremy bounded from side to side, light on his feet as he kept the demons’ strikes away from both him and Breen.

The border world heaved and groaned beneath him. Clearly the land resented the demons’ presence and wanted them gone as well.

“Help us,” he exhorted, directing his words to whatever guardian held this world. The earth beneath the demons’ clawed rear legs developed a life of its own, and they struggled for balance.

“Yes!” Jeremy met Breen’s exhausted gaze, and the older man nodded back.

“Aye. We’ll take help from any quarter.” Breen refocused power on the middle demon. “Help me corral that one. He’s the strongest.”

The contest was close, so close Jeremy wasn’t certain they’d succeed until they finally contained the demons within a magical net. So much power ran through him, every cell vibrated with the effort of directing it to his bidding. Breen nearly succumbed to the haunting music before they were done. If Jeremy hadn’t been joined to the Arch Druid, the older man would be dead.

“Thank the goddess,” he muttered. He wasn’t certain, but he suspected if the Irichna had won tonight, it would’ve given Tyler the strength he needed to finish off the Ceobbinn women. Maybe that was what the darkness around Cassie’s house had meant.

Indeed. And if I’d died, it would’ve left Cassie and her mother totally vulnerable.

Yeah, but I didn’t.

Resolve straightened his spine, and he curled his lips into a snarl. No one would harm Cassie—or Eleanora—not on his watch.

“We’re not done yet.” Breen directed sharp words at Jeremy.

“No. We’re not.” Jeremy drew the Seraph blade from its thigh sheath. “No wonder you told me I’d need this.”

Breen drew a matching blade from within his robes. Specially forged with goddess blood and dragons’ fire, they were the only weapon effective against Irichna.

“To me!” Breen cried, and the remaining Druids moved to his side, blades flashing. Some limped, some moaned softly as they marshalled what little power they had left to heal their wounds.

He and Breen and the others held the demons at bay with Seraph blades before binding them with iron. They were just finishing with the second demon, when the third one blasted Jeremy with flame and slipped its bonds.

“Fuck!” One of the other Druids cried, sprinting after the fleeing demon.

“Let it go,” Breen ordered. “It will leave this world behind before you can catch it. Besides, we’ll have our hands full killing these two.”

“Yes, Arch Druid.” The other man jogged back to their ragged circle.

“All of you, join your magic to Jeremy’s and mine,” Breen commanded. “Hold it no matter what happens. They’ll try to sing you to insensibility. Draw power to plug your ears if you must.”

Jeremy met Breen’s gaze asking a silent question.

Breen nodded. “You take that one. I’ll manage the other.”

“With pleasure.”

Jeremy closed on his appointed demon, blade at the ready. Its song was beautiful, mesmerizing, but he ignored it, intent on the ritual unfolding by his hand. He sliced both jugular veins. When black blood geysered, coating him in fluid that smelled like a charnel pit, he moved on to the femoral veins. Thank God the fucking song was fading. He felt as if he was killing a helpless child, but recognized it for illusion spawned by the demon trying to save itself.

A glance out of the corners of his eyes told him Breen was doing the same thing.

The other Druids held their spell until all essence was drained from the demons. Turning in upon themselves, they dissipated in a choking cloud of black debris.

Jeremy wiped his blade on shrubbery and shoved it back into its sheath. “Jesus, but I’m glad that’s over.”

“You and me both, lad.” Breen wiped blood from blue eyes that shone with the flush of victory.

“We’ll leave now,” a Druid announced.

“Yes,” another said. “And we’ll take our companions with us. Bad enough they died here. No reason to leave them in this world for eternity.”

Breen just nodded. “Find your homes. We did a good piece of work this night. Tomorrow is soon enough to honor our dead.”

Jeremy waited until everyone was gone, the stench of death and rot thick in his nostrils.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“I tried. Most of my magic was tied up, so my telepathic powers were weak.”

“That was why you used the phone? How did it even work across the veil?”

Breen cracked half a grin. “Who knows? Maybe they have 4G here too. Far more importantly, thank you, lad. I owe you my life. You displayed great courage.” Laying a hand on either side of Jeremy’s head, Breen kissed his forehead and murmured a Celtic prayer.

There’d never be a better chance to get answers out of the usually close-mouthed Arch Druid, so Jeremy said, “The Irichna are linked to the fae, right?”

“Sadly, yes. Why do you care?”

“Because the woman I love is in grave danger, threatened by one of the fae. As is her mother, Eleanora Ceobbinn. Surely you remember her. She’s a Celtic magic wielder, like us. Many of us have been working to free her from fae ensorcellment for this past year.”

“I do recall authorizing that, but it’s been months ago.” Breen met Jeremy’s gaze with eyes that were sad and ancient and worried. “This woman you love is the same one you petitioned the Council about.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll speak of her, but first I’ll answer your questions about the Irichna.” The Arch Druid set his jaw in a hard line. “I figured some things out during this battle, mostly because there were fae here during the early part, and they blab like stuck pigs to save themselves.” He laughed bitterly. “It didn’t work. We killed the ones that didn’t run—after we interrogated them. What they had to say corroborated all our suspicions.

“The fae courted Irichna by feeding them human souls, bartering them for power. It’s possible this particular fae has targeted your lady love, and her mother, for such an exchange.”

Sick horror spread through Jeremy. “Please, Breen. I can’t let that happen. You must let me—”

Breen held up a hand. “You have my blessing, and that of the Council. Do whatever you must to rid the Earth of both demons and fae.”

“Cassionetta?” Jeremy held his breath.

“You’ve loved her for years, son. Follow your heart.”

Jeremy hugged the old Druid hard. “Thank you!”

“Don’t mention it. Now let’s get out of here.” He sheathed his blade and split the veil, motioning Jeremy through ahead of him.

C
assie rolled over and pried one eye open. Gray, morning light streamed into her bedroom and she realized she hadn’t closed her curtains the night before. Given what an upsetting evening she’d had, she was amazingly rested. She slid across the bed, thinking she’d get out on the side closest to the bathroom. Her foot ran into something. An outraged yowl from Hector told her he’d spent the night on her bed.

“Sorry.” She sat up and scratched his ears. The attention seemed to mollify him, so she headed for the shower. Maybe if she got out of the house early enough, she could sidestep another confrontation with Tyler—at least until she got home tonight.

I have to do something. I can’t live this way much longer.

She considered moving out, but discarded the thought as soon as it surfaced. Other than that one trip where she’d taken Eleanora to the doctor as soon as she regained consciousness, she hadn’t been able to coax her to leave the house. There was no way she was going anywhere if it meant leaving her mother. Besides, if she stood down, Tyler would waltz away with everything.

Never. That will never fucking happen.

A repeat of last night’s fury rushed through her, an infusion of courage mixed with energy.

It felt good.

Half an hour later, dressed in a denim skirt, cream-colored linen blouse, jacket, and boots, she wound her wet hair into a bun and secured it with a scrunchie. Hector meowed at the door. She supposed he needed to go out. Sure enough, as soon as she pulled her door open, he raced down the hallway, probably heading for his kitty door.

Cassie grabbed her purse and computer case, locked the door, and tiptoed down the hall, taking the back stairs since they were farthest from Tyler’s rooms. On the ground floor, she poked her head into the library—a wonderful room lined from floor to ceiling with books—to make certain Murietta, her mother’s African Gray parrot, had survived the séance.

“
Awk,
morning, child.
Awk
.”

A smile tugged her lips upward, and Cassie scooped a handful of seeds, dropping them into Murietta’s dish. Back in the hall, she stopped to listen. Other than muted pecking from the library, the house was silent. She grabbed an orange and a granola bar when she passed through the kitchen and crept down the wooden risers leading to the garage.

She didn’t realize how nervous she’d been about running into Tyler until she slammed and locked the door to her Subaru, hit the remote to raise the door, and backed out of the garage. Tyler’s old VW Passat was parked on the street, so she figured he was inside somewhere.

A cold spear of fear pricked her.

Please,
she prayed to no one in particular,
let Mother be all right until I get home.

****

C
assie pushed against the door of the coffee shop. It had been a hell of a day. When the door didn’t budge, she shoved harder, really shouldering into it. Rain pelted against the glass. Wind rose to a screech as she finally wrestled her way through, a large latté clutched against her chest. The minute she jockeyed herself outside, wind caught her hair, plastering black strands across her eyes. Lightning split the sky, and she counted under her breath, “One one-thousand, two one-thousand...” Thunder boomed sooner than she expected and, for a moment, she considered running back into Starbucks, drinking her coffee, eating her pumpkin bread, and waiting out the storm.

“Can’t do that,” she muttered. “Got to get back to work. Haven’t accomplished a damned thing today.” Setting her mouth in a firm line, she pulled her short coat more closely about her with her free hand and set off at a brisk pace.

Damn! I never called Jeremy. But he didn’t call me, either.

She felt vaguely guilty, but she’d been so immersed in e-Ouija, she’d forgotten about her friend’s middle of the night call. Until just now.

“Lady...” A thin wail rose the same time someone grabbed at her skirt.

Cripes! Another homeless person. Jesus, they’ve gotten gutsy.

“Leave me alone,” she snarled, snatching her clothing away from the palsied hand rising out of the shadows of Yesler Way’s gutters.

“Don’ be like that,” the voice mewled. “Ise hungry. Bet you never missed no meals. How ’bout a fiver?” Wine fumes, sour and unpleasant, rose along with the words. He scrabbled for her skirt again.

“You’d just drink it up.” She wrenched away from the bum and half-ran down the street.

“You be sorry you didn’ hep. Youse cursed, but I curse you agin, I does.”

“Isn’t that just fucking great,” she mumbled. “Can’t figure out how to fix my e-Ouija project, Tyler’s looking like a predator, and now I’ve been cursed.”

You forgot leaving home without a decent coat
, her inner voice reminded her loftily.

“Oh, shut up,” she growled, reaching the front door of the Smith Tower. Since it was past seven o’clock it was locked, so she punched in the code, checking carefully that no one was watching. The Tower, as it was known to the denizens renting office space there, was the oldest office building in Seattle. Its lower levels reached into catacombs riddling the hills beneath. She’d used them a few times as an underground shortcut, but hordes of homeless were quite a deterrent. They made Mister Curses-On-You look like a real slacker.

Safely inside, she took a tentative sip from her cup, breathing appreciatively as the rich, fragrant beverage warmed her throat. She thought about taking her wet coat off and shaking it over the marble foyer, but didn’t want to spend too much time under the illumination of the antique chandeliers lighting the lobby. Even if someone didn’t know the code, it’d be an easy enough matter to rock out the glass. Settling for pushing her soaked hair behind her shoulders, she trotted to the bank of elevators, inserted her key, and waited for a car to deposit her on the thirteenth floor.

Cassie closed her teeth over her lower lip. Working in Eleanora’s office held a bittersweet aspect, but it seemed like a waste of money to rent another space when her mother wasn’t using this one. Initially, she told herself she was keeping the office warm and inhabited until Eleanora returned. But her mother doing anything beyond wandering like a wraith looked less and less likely as months dripped by.

Don’t think like that. I can’t give up hope.

Cassie glanced at the keys in her hand and wondered how long she’d been standing outside the door of thirteen-twelve. Long enough to finish her coffee, she realized, disappointed the paper cup was empty. She inserted her key into the lock, turned it, and let herself into the electronic design shop she’d fashioned out of her mother’s spacious, high-ceilinged workplace.