an excerpt from
DARK MAGIC
Magic Series
by Cheyenne McCray
© Copyright Cheyenne McCray, 2009.
Uncorrected Proof Copy

Chapter 1

      San Francisco

      Jake Macgregor tightened his grip on his Glock as he eased through the shadows, the midnight broken only in patches where moonlight squeezed its way through the clouds. The closest streetlight’s glow didn’t touch him.

      Moist air chilled his face and his hands, but adrenaline and his raid suit kept the rest of his body warm.

      Members his reconnaissance team fanned out beside him in front of homes on each side of their target, slipping by cars parked in front of the garage-level entrances on Kearny. Several officers from the Paranormal Special Forces that he captained comprised half his team. The other half—

      Magical beings.

      The PSF officers, gray magic D’Anu witches, D’Danann warriors, and Dark Elves now called themselves the Unified Otherworlds Alliance. Or just the Alliance.

      The only witch missing was Cassia who had vanished to Otherworld after the last big battle against the dark magic and chaos threatening San Francisco. His gut tightened every time he thought of Cassia. She was such a mystery . . . a mystery he wanted to solve.

      Jake blinked. Why was he thinking about her now? He wasn’t even sure he could trust the witch after her past deceptions.

      Six D’Danann warriors had unfurled their powerful wings to circle the target home from above, and the fire escape in the back. Once they took to the sky, the warriors became invisible to human sight, including Jake. The rest of the Alliance flanked him on the ground or guarded the back door and the gate to the miniscule alleyway.

      A sense of déjà vu swept over Jake as they crept up to the historic home. Months ago, he’d been on a similar mission, preparing to raid an older apartment building. At that time, the only magical being who had accompanied the PSF had been Silver Ashcroft, one of the D’Anu witches.

      That was the night Jake first realized someone was practicing dark magic at a whole new level in his city. That night everything changed—and not for the better.

      This time they prepared to enter a well-kept home in a nice San Francisco neighborhood near Union and Kearny. With space at a premium in the densely populated but relatively small city, the house was like most homes—squeezed between similar three-story houses.

      The houses were packed along a typical steep incline, which wasn’t exactly optimum for a raid. But at the same time it would be difficult for anyone inside to escape—the only way out was the front door and the three levels of upstairs windows. What could hardly be deemed an alleyway in the back had a locked gate for an exit—the only possible rear egress.

      On this stretch of the street, residents normally kept the sidewalks and the fronts of their homes in good condition, and any bushes and trees well-maintained. In light of the hell the city had been through recently, Jake wasn’t surprised the neighborhood didn’t look so perfect anymore.

      All those months ago, they had been searching for Darkwolf at that apartment building. They were searching for him now.

      Years ago, white witch Kevin Richards had picked up Balor’s stone eye on the shores of Ireland. From that moment on, the man who was now known as Darkwolf had become a dark god’s pawn.

      Only now, the warlock had obtained the dark god’s and his goddess wife’s magic, powers so great that it was nearly incomprehensible. With the magic of two gods, how powerful had Darkwolf become?

      That’s what they had to find out.

      A flash of lighting followed by a rumble of thunder rolled through what had been a slightly foggy but cloudless night. Wind kicked up, bringing with it the sudden smell of rain.

      And something else. Something musty and bitter. Like wet laundry soured from sitting too long.

      Jake glanced at the sky. The clouds swirled overhead—almost as if a funnel cloud was gathering. Which was impossible considering they were in San Francisco.

      Something was off, not right about that storm and his skin grew tight.

      Just like it had in that small Middle Eastern village . . .

      Maybe he was overreacting. He turned his attention back to the house and the mission. Soft yellow light spilled through uncovered windows on the first floor above the garage. Jake crept up the three steps to the entrance and peered through the vertical six-inch wide pane to the right of the door. No curtain obstructed his view.

      He frowned. No movement, no activity. And if this was Darkwolf’s base of operations, why would the home be lit up and the windows not covered?

      Keeping his voice low, Jake spoke into the microphone attached to his raid suit. “Everyone in position?”

      He counted the number of affirmatives as they came into his earpiece. Only eighteen of his men and women answered, which didn’t include the magical beings. Mentally he ran through the voices of his team. Marks and Taylor hadn’t answered.

      Jake called to the two PSF officers who were part of the team covering the rear of the house. “Marks. Taylor. Are you in position?”

      No response.

      “Negative visual contact,” came Ricker’s low tone.

      A prickling sensation rolled up Jake’s spine as gut instinct took hold.

      Either their information was wrong—or someone had leaked their plans.

      He paused one moment as the realization sunk in.

      This wasn’t the warlock’s headquarters.

      It’s a trap.

      The slaughter of the men on his U.S. Marine Force Recon squad outside that Afghani village flashed through his mind. He’d led them into a dark magic trap, something he’d never been able to forgive himself for.

      No fucking way. He couldn’t let it happen again.

      “Get your asses out of here,” Jake growled in his microphone as he scanned the street behind him. “It’s a setup.”

      He turned and scanned the area. No sign of an attack. No one on the street but the Alliance.

      But it wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right.

      His heart nearly exploded when he caught the smell of dark magic. Evil magic.

      Not again. Not again. Not again.

      Another flash of lightning cracked the sky as Jake moved away from the house. Thunder growled so loud it seemed to surround them. Wind blasted them and rain rushed down in a sudden torrent.

      Water funnels sprung from the rain.

      Water funnels.

      A mass of them.

      They barreled straight for the house and members of his team.

      “Oh, my goddess,” one of the witches shouted—Rhiannon. “They’re going to attack. Those funnels or whatever’s inside them.”

      “Fuck!” someone cried out, followed by an “Oh, shit,” from another voice, and then more shouts and screams.

      Jake’s pulse jacked as one of the funnels reached him. It came to an abrupt stop. Water hit Jake in the face with a hard slap. A naked being appeared—from inside the funnel. Some kind of creature that changed from water into the form of a man.

      Water that had surrounded the being sprayed in all directions then splashed to the concrete with the rest of the rain.

      The naked being drove a dagger toward Jake’s throat, above his Kevlar vest.

      Jake ducked to the side but the blade sliced his right bicep, below his Marine tattoo, close to a healing wound. Pain seared his arm.

      At the same time the assailant struck, Jake had raised his Glock and aimed for one of the two points usually good to bring down a supernatural asshole—the heart.

      The creature twisted into a funnel before Jake got off a shot. He sighted a spot where the thing’s head used to be, but he didn’t see so much as the outline of a skull.

      What the—

      He didn’t have time to think as the funnel moved around him in a circle. Jake’s pulse raced as wind and rain continued to pummel him. It was difficult to maintain firm footing on the street’s steep incline.

      His officers, witches, and other magical beings fought the funnel-creatures. Witch-magic blazed and sparked, illuminating the night in eerie flashes. Gunshots cut the air along with screams, shouts, battle cries.

      Jake crouched just in time when the funnel came to a stop and water splashed Jake hard. The naked being struck out again with its dagger. Moonlight gleamed off an almost crystal-like blade as it missed Jake.

      He squeezed the Glock’s trigger, his shot ringing through the night, mingling with all of the other sounds.

      His bullet hit home. The being dropped—and solidified into the form of a flesh-and-blood male. Red blossomed above his heart, over a large tattoo on his chest, the pounding rain turning the blood pink.

      A flicker of surprise sparked in Jake. These assholes didn’t turn to silt and vanish like all of the other screwed up things the Alliance had been fighting the past several months.

      It had only taken a second for the man to go down. Jake’s skin crawled and he whirled to see two more water funnels barreling down on him.

      The funnels stopped simultaneously and two hard splashes hit Jake, almost knocking him on his ass. He swept out his leg, bringing one creature down as he shot at the other. The second being had already twisted into a funnel and the bullet went straight through the water.

      Jake jerked his gun back to the being he had downed. It was getting to his feet, but Jake shot the creature in the heart before it could transform. The other funnel stopped behind Jake.

      Instinctively, Jake dropped and rolled onto his back while keeping his gun clear. He shot the man point blank in his forehead, blowing the back of his head off.

      In one glance, Jake saw the devastation to his team and some of the funnel-beings—or whatever they were—as the battle raged. Dead bodies littered the street while gunshots still echoed. The night lit up with glittering magic as the witches attempted to use their magic ropes and spellfire. They protected themselves with spellshields when they failed.

      Heads of funnel-beings rolled down the street. Invisible Fae warriors swung swords to decapitate the creatures when a funnel stopped.

      Rain poured and wind blasted them as another funnel barreled Jake’s way.

      The funnel-beings seemed to be feeding off the water and the wind to transform into spouts. What would happen if they were cut off from their source of power?

      As Jake prepared for the next funnel, he shouted at the witch closest to him. “Copper. Throw a spellshield around one of the funnels. Trap it!”

      Without looking at Jake, Copper flung her glittering magic around one of the funnels headed toward her. Immediately it came to a stop and a man collapsed to the ground, contained by the shield.

      Copper called out to the other witches, but Jake barely heard her voice through the wind, rain, and thunder as a funnel reached him. Jake feinted to his left and as the being became visible, then Jake dogged to the right and shot the bastard in the chest.

      The storm ceased as sudden as it had started.

      Dark clouds rolled away, allowing moonlight to spill from the sky.

      Jake’s breath came hard and heavy as he swung his gaze around to see three naked men—beings—contained by witch spellshields while bodies of other men littered the street and sidewalk. No more water funnels.

      A sick feeling clenched his gut as he saw how many of his officers were down. A quick count told him eleven of his PSF team remained on their feet, not counting the five in the back if they’d been attacked.

      Shit. He couldn’t see all of the witches. He jogged up to Copper as he scanned the street. “The D’Anu,” he said as he reached her. “I don’t see Alyssa or Mackenzie.”

      “There’s Alyssa.” Copper pointed toward a dark corner of the street. They both glanced up and down the street. “Mackenzie—there she is,” Copper said with obvious relief at the same time Jake caught sight of her near King Garran.

      “Thank God,” Jake said as he nodded to Copper. The seven witches were still alive although it looked like Mackenzie and Rhiannon were bleeding some. Thank God, too, that Cassia wasn’t here and hurt.

      All six D’Danann warriors materialized on the ground, gripping their swords as they studied the massacre with grim expressions. Garran, the king of the Dark Elves—the Drow—moved beside the D’Danann with two of his men. An equally fierce look hardened the king’s battle-worn features.

      Lieutenant Fredrickson hurried around from the back and stopped at the corner. “Got three officers down in the alley, including Marks and Taylor,” Fredrickson yelled from his position.

      “Fuck!” Jake glanced at one of their SWAT trucks. “Lyons,” he shouted to one of the med techs. “Follow Fredrickson with your kit.”

      Fury coursing through him, Jake kicked the body of a dead funnel-being next to him.

      He stared at the creature for a moment. They definitely looked human when dead. Each of the beings had a tattoo on their chests, over their hearts. If Jake wasn’t mistaken it was an inverted pentagram. The sign of a dark warlock.

      One of the downed officers close to him groaned and moved. Jake ran to her, his boots slapping the wet asphalt. Lieutenant Landers gave another groan and tried to get up, but Jake gently pushed down on her shoulder.

      “Don’t move, Landers,” he ordered in a gruff voice.

      Blood seeped from a gash across her throat. A quick inspection told him the cut hadn’t been deep enough to kill her as long as they got her medical attention ASAP. He pressed his hand to the wound as he glanced at one of his officers who already had out pads and gauze from a med kit that had been in the back of one of their raid vehicles.

      Landers’s blood coated Jake’s hand as he wrapped the cotton and gauze around her throat, just snug enough to stem the flow. “Kicked some ass, didn’t we,” Jake said as he secured the gauze and she gave a faint smile.

      He kept talking to her, keeping her awake until the paramedics arrived. Sirens wailed and Jake knew the paramedics and law enforcement would be there within two minutes.

      His gaze roved the scene again. His gut churned and anger burned his chest at the sight of all of his injured and murdered officers. The seven witches continued to imprison the three men they’d captured within separate spellshields.

      Fury burned through Jake’s mind, so fierce, so intense, that he wanted to eliminate the beings within those shields.

      He shook his head, trying to throw the violent thoughts from his mind. He was an officer of the law. The beings were no longer armed or able to fight. They would be taken into custody, questioned, and imprisoned. With the entire city in chaos due to the current state of affairs—and the loss of most of the heads of state and local military, government, and law enforcement—these funnel-things certainly weren’t going anywhere for a long time.

      “Get them into the truck,” Jake shouted to the witches and Otherworld warriors. “Before the cavalry arrives.”

      Last thing he needed was to argue with SFPD over who had jurisdiction and explain this was a paranormal crime, before they could take the prisoners away. The Alliance would incarcerate the beings in special cells back at HQ. Containments bound by powerful spells that wouldn’t allow those inside to use their own magic.

      The SWAT truck drove away with the witches and their prisoners as flashing blue and red lights crested the hill. Sirens silenced as the vehicles pulled up to the scene.

      Jake glanced at the spot the Drow and the D’Danann warriors had been standing. They had vanished into the night.

      Normally citizens would’ve been out of their homes to gape at the scene once the gunshots stopped. But these weren’t normal times and the city was under Martial Law reinforced by the National Guard.

      Furious heat washed over Jake and he scrubbed his face with his palm as flashes of Afghanistan strobed through his mind.

      Fuck, fuck, fuck.

      Again. The magnitude of what had happened nearly slammed him to the ground as if the row of houses had come down on him.

      He’d led his officers into a trap.

      It didn’t matter that the mission was something the Alliance had approved and organized. When the Alliance’s recon passed on the info about Darkwolf’s supposed headquarters, it had been Jake who’d pushed for the Alliance to go on the offensive rather than wait for Darkwolf to attack.

      In seconds Jake was surrounded by paramedics and law enforcement officers. Military vehicles also rolled up the street.

      Once he made it clear this was a paranormal crime, Jake would have command. But first he had to follow goddamned protocol.

      It happened again. Again.

      Jake forced back the pain and anger like he had ever since that day, and immersed himself in picking up the pieces.

#

      It was close to four a.m. when Jake made it back to the warehouse. Dried blood streaked his hands and clothing, and likely his face. Paramedics had cleansed and bandaged his wounded arm but it hurt like a sonofabitch. When the witches got a hold of him, they’d no doubt use their magic and potions to ease the pain and help it heal faster.

      At this moment he welcomed the pain. He deserved it.

      When he entered HQ, he was still wet from the rain and so tired he wanted to drop and sleep for at least a week. This war wasn’t allowing anyone to get much rest.

      Jake didn’t let his exhaustion show as he walked toward the command center where he expected the leaders of each faction of the Alliance to be waiting for him.

      He wasn’t disappointed. Lieutenant Fredrickson had made it back to the warehouse before Jake and stood in the command center. He looked like he’d been to hell and back, his forearm bandaged, a cut over his left eye, blood streaking his face and arms, and his clothes still damp.

      The fact that Lieutenant Landers was missing created a sharp pain to Jake’s gut, but she’d be all right once the wound to her throat healed. In the meantime he’d have to find someone to replace her for the strategy sessions.

      Like he had ever since that day two years ago, Jake forced back his feelings and erected an emotional distance from those he worked with.

      The three D’Danann warrior leaders and three of the D’Anu witches looked as if they’d had showers and had changed into clean clothing while Jake and his officers had been at the crime scene. But the witches’ eyes were rimmed with red with dark circles beneath. Lack of sleep was getting to them, too.

      The Drow king and his men weren’t around, likely because they had to get to ground before daylight. Sunlight toasted Dark Elves.

      Jake jerked his thumb toward the enclosure covering the spelled jail cells. “Did you interrogate the bastards?”

      “We thought we should wait for you.” Rhiannon elbowed her husband, the scarred, hulking D’Danann warrior next to her as he growled. She looked up at him with a frown. “Keir wants to kill them all.”

      Jake gave Keir a look that said, “You and me both, bro.”

      Out loud Jake said, “Yeah, I need to be in on this.” He rubbed his temples as he fought back a headache due to the lack of sleep. “Let’s get to it.” He glanced in the direction of the cells before looking back at the group. “Hawk, Copper, Fredrickson, you come with me. The rest of you wait. It’d be too crowded with all of us.”

      Keir gave another low growl and Rhiannon elbowed him again. Jake turned and headed toward the cells. He didn’t care if they all agreed with his choices or not. Screw that. He wasn’t in the mood to argue.

      Solid, soundproof walls divided each cell that had spelled metal bars in the front. The same sour smell that had been thick in the air during the battle, like a pile of wet laundry that had been sitting for days, hit him as soon as he walked into the room housing the “inmates.”

      In the first cell, a naked man—if he was a man—had his eyes closed and had curled into fetal position on the twin-sized bed. If Jake wasn’t mistaken, the man was sucking his thumb. He couldn’t be more than twenty-five and had shaggy black hair to his shoulders. His skin was so pale, almost transparent, that it was like looking through a cloudy block of ice that had started to melt.

      Jake frowned as he assessed the “man.” Jake was pretty sure the powerful warlock, Darkwolf, was behind the attack and using these men—beings—to do it. The inverted pentagram tattooed on their chests was a sign that Jake was likely right.

      “They all had daggers,” Copper said as she came up beside Jake, “made of ice, if you can believe it. The weapons melted before we even got these guys into the SWAT truck.”

      “We know spellshields stop them.” Jake’s mind churned over the night’s events. “But that wouldn’t be practical in any major attack.”

      “True. We don’t have enough witches.” Copper looked up at him with her cinnamon colored eyes. “Unless we can come up with some other way to do it, there’s no way our Coven could contain large numbers. Janis Arrowsmith and the white magic D’Anu Coven would likely refuse to help as usual. If someone could even find Janis.”

      Hawk nodded. “Perhaps we can experiment on these captives.”

      Copper glared at him. “Excuse me, but that would be entirely inhumane. You can’t use prisoners like laboratory rats.” She shuddered. “Experimenting on animals is another topic I won’t get into right now.”

      Jake handed his Glock and a dagger to a guard just outside the cells, following standard protocol. No one in the cell would be armed with anything the prisoner could use against them if he attacked. Of course they had Copper and her magic, which made for a fine “secret weapon.”

      He nodded to Hawk, who reluctantly handed his sword and a dagger to the other guard at the entrance leading to the cells.

      “Let’s start with talking to this guy.” Jake glanced down at Copper. “Ready?”

      She nodded as her fingers crackled with magic. The moment Jake unlocked the door and opened it, she had a spellshield in place that moved with them and would make sure the prisoner didn’t escape. When the three of them were inside the cell, Copper dropped her shield.

      Jake crouched beside the bed. “Time to have a little chat.”

      The man didn’t open his eyes, but his mouth worked as he sucked his thumb.

      “You and your buddies did a number on my guys tonight.” Jake’s tone took on a hard edge as his muscles clenched and his body heated with anger. “You’re going to give me some answers.”

      “Maybe he’s in shock,” Copper said.

      Hawk stepped past her. “Then we will deal with him in another fashion.”

      “Hawk—” Copper started.

      But the D’Danann warrior already gripped the man’s shoulders with his large hands and raised the guy upright. The man’s His eyelids popped open and the fiery intensity in his ice-blue gaze made Jake frown.

      He stood and faced the man. Hawk’s jaw clenched as he kept his hold.

      “Was Darkwolf behind the attack?” Jake fisted his hands at his sides.

      When the guy didn’t answer, Hawk shook him like a floppy rag doll.

      “You won’t hurt me.” The man’s voice came out in a high pitched squeak as he kept his gaze on Jake. “You’re a pussy cop.”

      “I am no cop and have no such reservations.” Hawk growled and the man winced as Hawk visibly tightened his hold.

      Pain shot through Jake’s wounded biceps as he clenched his fist tighter. “After what you and your buddies did tonight, think I give a crap about one worthless sonofabitch like you?”

      Copper’s tension radiated behind him. He hoped she’d keep her mouth shut.

      Instead, she pushed her way between Hawk and Jake. She wore an expression that he’d seen her blood sister, Silver, wear—the times Silver had gone on raids with Jake. Using her magic, Silver would force Darkwolf’s warlocks to spill all they knew. That was deep gray magic and Jake had never seen Copper use magic so close to bordering on dark.

      Gray fog rolled from around Copper and it wrapped its tendrils around the man. His eyes widened and he started to thrash in Hawk’s grip. In moments, when the gray fog virtually shrouded the man’s body, he slumped and his eyes glazed, the brightness dimming.

      “Start from the beginning.” Copper spoke in a low, demanding tone that Jake hadn’t heard from her before—it was almost eerie. “You’ll tell us everything you know.”

      As if reciting from a book, the man began to reel off what he knew.

      Interesting, useful information. Disturbing information.

      Jake, Copper, and Hawk continued to the next cells. They were forced to use the same techniques with the two additional men who refused to speak without Copper’s gray magic influence.

      By the time Copper, Hawk, and Jake finished, re-armed themselves, and headed back to join the others at the command center, Jake’s head spun. He tried to grasp and work through what lay ahead of them.

      “Darkwolf’s gathering followers really fast,” Copper said when they were together with the two witches and two D’Danann warriors who’d been waiting. Copper looked beyond exhausted, probably from using her gray magic. “He’s telling them they’ve got to prepare for the next Armageddon.”

      “Color me surprised,” Rhiannon said, her arms folded across her chest. A red line streaked one of her forearms, the cut looking as if it was healing rapidly, no doubt due to witch magic.

      “He recruits murderers, thieves. Anyone weak-minded enough to turn to his side.” Hawk gripped the hilt of his sword in one fist.

      “Darkwolf named them Stormcutters,” Copper said. “And they’re led by several men Darkwolf calls Blades.”

      “How did he manage to do that water-funnel and storm thing?” Rhiannon furrowed her brows. “And create those Stormcutters?

      “Balor was a god of the sea.” Hawk looked to each man and woman. “Now that Darkwolf controls all of Balor’s powers along with the dark goddess’s, and by using his own warlock dark magic, he is able to draw water from the ocean and other sources. His powers allow him to create storms and manipulate human form into water and back.”

      “They can’t carry anything with them or wear clothes.” Copper yanked on her long braid as if agitated. “That’s why they’re all naked.”

      “Also why their daggers are made of ice.” Jake drew in a deep breath. “Darkwolf has to be relatively close to make everything happen. The storms, the funnels, the Stormcutters, the daggers.”

      Copper nodded. “He also manipulates the Stormcutters’ minds.”

      “As you have seen, they each bear an inverted pentagram on their chests.” Hawk braced his hands on the strategy table. “But it is more than a mere tattoo.”

      “Somehow it allows Darkwolf to keep track of all of his puppets.” Jake rubbed his temples again, trying to relieve his headache. “The tattoo supposedly burns and aches when he calls for them.”

      “I wonder just how many minds he can control at one time?” Rhiannon said.

      Jake gave a frustrated growl deep in his throat. “That last Stormcutter gave me the impression that it’s a piece of cake for Darkwolf to control thousands of those guys. No knowing just how many that means. Right now it could be ten, twenty, thirty thousand?” Jake shook his head. “Apparently, from what the Stormcutters said, we were lucky and only got a taste. Probably just a warning.”

      “Thousands?” Rhiannon said quietly. “He’s trying to amass thousands of these people, turn them into water funnels, and fight us?”

      “That last Stormcutter looked like he was really into all this bull.” Jake was finding it hard to believe the man’s words, even as he told the others. “Darkwolf plans to control a million according to this guy.”

      Everyone was silent, as if trying to digest what Jake had said, and those who hadn’t been in on the interrogations had stunned expressions.

      “If that’s the case, with as few of us as there are, it’ll be like going into a typhoon in a rowboat.” In an unconscious movement, Rhiannon rubbed the scars on her cheek. “The PSF, Drow, D’Danann, D’Anu—there’s only around seven hundred of us. What can we do against thousands? Much less—” She shook her head like she was trying to get the thoughts out of her mind. “Can’t even go there.”

      “We have to find more help.” Silver looked to each person in the room with an almost pleading expression. “The National Guard has their hands full enforcing Martial Law. Where’s the military? I know the overt war with the demons and Darkwolf has only happened over a period of a few weeks, but shouldn’t we have more help by now?”

      “Thanks to the war in the Middle East, the military is spread thin.” Jake sighed with exhaustion. “Unfortunately big troop movements, even stateside, take time to organize and deploy. Add that to the fact the demons wiped out all of California’s highest levels of government, the top military brass, and the wealthiest and most influential people in the state.”

      His eyes burned from too many nights with little sleep and he blinked. “Top it off with no one anywhere really understanding what we’ve been dealing with. A goddess and god for Christ’s sake. Now a warlock-god?”

      Jake’s eyesight grew even more bleary. He wasn’t going to be worth crap if he was up much longer. “I don’t know about all of you, but I’ve got to get a couple of hours of shuteye. We can get on this after we rest.”

      Jake didn’t wait for anyone to agree and took off to his temporary room in the warehouse.

      Despite his exhaustion, he was automatically going through weapons schematics in his mind. Shit. Not only did he need to come up with something to kill a duo-god warlock, but now he had to wipe out men in water funnels.

      Christ.

      He reached his room that was bare save for his clothing, a table with his laptop and printed out weapons schematics. Jake stumbled inside and shut the door. All he cared about now was sleep.

      He passed out the moment his face hit the mattress.

 

Chapter 2

 

      Otherworld

      Four centuries.

      Four centuries of waiting, biding her time, obeying the rules . . . and now the day had come.

      Cassia ducked as Daire swung the shirre, a fighting pole, then immediately raised her own, blocking his next strike. Her physical strength had increased along with her magic, and she barely felt the blow vibrate from the shirre along her arms.

      The burn in her chest, her constant concern about the wars waged and to be fought in the San Francisco Otherworld, added to her strength while she maneuvered the shirre. Urgency to get back to the city, to rejoin the Alliance, gave her more intensity to fight Daire, to match him with every thrust and parry.

      Dear Anu, but she had to return to the Alliance as soon as her ascension was complete. The Great Guardian had provided no news of the war lately, which was strange, so Cassia wasn’t certain what she would be going back to.

      Cassia whirled and ducked as the powerful Elvin male swung his shirre at her and it whistled over her head, skimming her hair. No mercy—that was why Daire was the best instructor of all the Light Elves.

      Her thoughts spun in time with her movements. How were her Coven sisters? The D’Danann? The Drow? The PSF?

      . . . How was Jake?

      In an impossibly fast movement, Daire whipped his pole around hers and she almost lost her grip. All thoughts of Jake vanished.

      She managed to keep her hold on her shirre and performed a back flip, her two-piece body-hugging training suit allowing her to move fluidly. She landed solidly on her bare feet in the soft grass with her knees bent, prepared to go on the offensive without pause.

      Cassia twirled her pole horizontally from her right hand to left before spinning it vertically and going for Daire’s midsection.

      She anticipated his block and spun the shirre in the opposite direction. The pole landed solidly against his side and he made a sound of surprise. Before he could react, her movements were a blur as she swept his feet out from under him with the shirre. In a blink she had him flat on his back with her straddling his large, bare chest and her pole against his throat.

      The corner of Daire’s mouth quirked. “So the student has overcome the teacher.”

      Cassia grinned. “Finally,” she said then shouted as he flipped her off of him.

      Suddenly he was on top of her, his large body pressing hers to the ground. He had pinned her wrists over her head with his shirre, and her cropped training tunic rode up so that a breeze brushed the crescent moon and star birthmark around her bellybutton.

      Dear Anu, he was so fast and strong. But over the centuries he’d outmaneuvered her too many times to count. He was the best shirre and hand-to-hand combat instructor amongst all of the Light Elves, a master almost impossible to beat. The fact she’d even pinned him down a few seconds was cause for celebration.

      But as she looked up at his green eyes, her smile faded. He stared at her with such intensity, before his gaze settled on her lips.

      She swallowed, becoming very aware of his bare chest against her breasts, his lean hips between her thighs. A small gasp escaped her as he pressed his erection to her belly, a hard rod through the thin material of his skin-tight training breeches. His warm, earthy male scent invaded her senses.

      This had never happened before. He had never crossed the line between instructor and student.

       “Daire.” Swirling sensations tingled in her belly. She had a hard time forcing any words out as she felt his warm breath against her lips. “What—”

      “Long I have waited for you to reach your ascension.” His gaze met hers again and the passion in his eyes was more than desire. He kept her wrists pinned over her head using one hand and his shirre as he brought his other hand to her face and cupped her cheek. “Long I have desired you, Cassiandra.”

      Cassia’s usual calm centeredness evaporated as tingles raced through her from head to toe. Tingles of awareness, even a thrill at being looked at in this way by a man who wanted her in a sexual way.

      At the same time, panic rose up within her like spiraling butterflies trying to escape her chest. A male had never expressed such blatant sexual desire for her before. It had always been forbidden—

      Daire smiled. His white-blond hair trailed over her cheek as he brushed his lips over hers.

      For the briefest flash of thought, Cassia imagined the dark-haired human cop, Jake Macgregor, between her thighs and his mouth covering hers. His stubble would be coarse against her fair skin, his kiss hard and filled with need.

      Her eyes widened and she gasped. Jake . . . why was she thinking of the human? Why now, when she was about to receive her first kiss? From an Elvin man revered amongst her kind, a man she had known from the time she had begun training with the shirre and other hand-to-hand combat exercises, centuries ago?

      Daire raised his head without kissing her, and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. He studied her for the longest of moments, his expression now serious. “After your ascension, you will be mine, Cassiandra. As it was always meant to be.”

      He pushed himself up, releasing her wrists from beneath his shirre. Stunned and speechless, she let him take her hand and draw her to her feet. His grip was strong, his palm smooth, his fingers long as they wrapped around hers. She felt like she might tip over the way her head was spinning.

      Daire brushed a few blades of grass from her hair before lowering his head and moving his mouth to her ear. “Tonight,” he whispered before drawing back, giving her one last smile, and heading toward the Elvin city.

      Kael, Cassia’s white wolf familiar, bounded out of the forest with a low growl. “What is wrong mistress?” he asked in her mind as he trotted up to her.

      “Nothing,” Cassia replied to Kael in her thoughts, then shook her head. “Everything.”

       Kael eased to her side and she slipped her fingers into his thick, white fur. He was large for a wolf and his shoulder blades were as high as her waist. “Did Daire injure you? I have always said he is too rough in your training.”

      “No. He is never too rough.” Cassia watched Daire walk away as she gripped Kael’s fur in her fingers. “You are always far too protective.”

      Kael gave the wolf equivalent of a “Humph.”

      Daire moved so fluidly. He was perfection. A broad, muscular chest that led to narrow hips and strong thighs that had just been between hers. Long, white-blond hair that reached his shoulder blades, spilling over smooth, golden skin. Leaf-green eyes and elegant but very masculine features. All a woman would want in a mate.

      Her lips parted. To complete her transition she was to be intimate with an Elvin male. She’d never experienced sex—as the soon to be only female Guardian, it had been forbidden to do so before her time.

      That the Great Guardian had apparently selected Daire to take Cassia through her transition tonight had caught her by surprise. She hadn’t known what to expect, who would be chosen for her. Knowing now that it was Daire who would be inside her was comforting . . . yet not.

      She clenched her fingers tighter in Kael’s fur as she tipped her head back and looked at the clear, blue sky before closing her eyes. Images of Jake filled her mind. The San Francisco cop was handsome in a hard, rugged way. He equaled Daire in height, well over six feet, but Jake looked more powerful physically even though it was doubtful he could best an immortal like Daire. She knew from observation that Jake would never back away from a challenge and would not go down easily.

      Images of Jake thrusting inside her, his hard, naked body melded with hers, made her knees weak.

      The tingle of her magic sharpened right before she felt it shoot away from her.

      A tree branch cracked, its loud snap echoing through the forest. Bless it. She had to gain control over her magic or the Dryads would be coming after her for damaging the trees.

      Cassia opened her eyes as she looked in the direction Daire had been walking. Her cheeks burned and she brought her fingers to her mouth. No male could have been picked who could be more appealing to her among the Elves than Daire.

      But only one man filled her thoughts now. Jake. She had always been drawn to him even though she had kept an emotional and physical distance as she had with all males. It had become such an automatic thing—to separate herself from men as she was forbidden to be intimate with one.

      But now she felt a sense of freedom she’d never experienced before. She could lie with as many men as she chose to.

      The idea held merit.

      But not truth. She wouldn’t choose to have sex with just any man.

      Likely, Daire would lay claim to her and she would be expected to take him as a mate. She shook her head. He might be the one to take her through her transition, but that didn’t mean he could claim her . . . or her heart.

#

      Cassia’s belly churned as she stood upon a dais in her chambers, surrounded by handmaidens preparing her for the ceremony. She felt so lightheaded she was certain she was going to pass out.

      Where was the calmness, the centeredness that had been a part of her for so long that she couldn’t begin to think of losing control?

      Peaceful. Serene. The calm in the center of a storm. That was what she was known to be by the members of her Coven and the Alliance.

      Or rather what she was thought to be.

      Right now she was the storm, far from being calm. As if to prove the point, a burst of gold magic shot from her fingers and a vase exploded across her bedroom. Two handmaidens close to the vase squealed in surprise. Pottery crashed to the floor and flower stems and blooms scattered across the polished wood.

      “My apologies,” Cassia said, feeling a little sheepish and frustrated at the same time, tension making her shoulders ache. She couldn’t let her growing magic get out of control like that again.

      She had just finished bathing in an orchid-scented bath, followed by the royal handmaidens rubbing rich oils of the same scent onto her skin.

      Kael sat on his haunches off to the side, watching with what appeared to be a wolf-like frown. “Why can I not accompany you after your ascension ceremony?” he said in her mind.

      Cassia’s cheeks heated as she thought about what was to happen after the ceremony and she bit her lower lip. “Daire and I will leave . . . alone.”

      Kael gave a low growl and another one of the handmaidens jumped.

      Mistress Jaya glared at Kael. “Why you allow that beast to follow you around is quite beyond my understanding.”

      Kael gave a mental growl that only Cassia could hear.

      The handmaidens continued to fuss with her dress and clucked their tongues in disapproval when she shifted on the dais she stood upon.

      “Jaya, please stop calling him a beast.” Cassia looked into the Elder’s dark blue eyes. “He is my familiar. And my friend.”

      Kael gave a sound of approval in Cassia’s mind and looked somewhat appeased.

      Cassia’s hands trembled as she smoothed her palms down the fine material of her filmy white gown. When touched, the highly-prized fabric felt like rippling water beneath her fingertips.

      “Princess Cassiandra—be still, please.” One of the royal hairdressers patted Cassia’s hair, before weaving in more strands of rare aquamarine diamonds the same shade as Cassia’s eyes.

      Her throat tightened and her skin tingled. She had been waiting centuries for this day. How could she be nervous?

      Well, for one, she had no idea what she was about to face. The Great Guardian performed an ascension ceremony only once every thousand years, and the whole thing was far too secretive for Cassia’s tastes.

      Not to mention she was the Great Guardian’s only daughter. The Guardian had bore all males until Cassia four hundred and twenty five years ago.

      With her usual cryptic responses and mysterious air, the Great Guardian hadn’t filled Cassia in on every detail. She hadn’t explained why it was so important to complete Cassia’s transition with a male of worth as soon as possible.

      Among the Light Elves, descendants of the Great Guardian, the most powerful of their kind, were not allowed to reach their full potential until they reached four centuries and twenty five years of age. Like her brothers before her, as she waited, Cassia had been placed in an Otherworld to guide and serve where and when needed—where Halfling Elvin children lived.

      In her case, she had been sent to the Earth Otherworld, where she served the D’Anu witches, descendants of the Ancient Druids—four hundred years today. She had traveled from one Coven on Earth to the next as the witches aged, and she did not. She had assumed the identity of a bumbling apprentice witch in most cases.

      When the Guardian visioned that Cassia was to go to the San Francisco Otherworld, to serve yet another Coven, Cassia had again taken on the identity meant to keep attention from her.

      In the San Francisco Coven, however, she had revealed a part of herself too soon—that she was more than she appeared to be. But she was nearly at her age of ascension and some of the changes in her could no longer be disguised anyway.

      Just thinking about her friends in the Alliance made Cassia realize how badly she needed to get back to the San Francisco Otherworld and aid in whatever manner she could. Once her ascension was complete, she would be able to assist them in ways no one would have anticipated.

      Cassia felt more bonded with her current Coven sisters and the Alliance than any other group of people she had served. The fighters in the Alliance were incredibly fierce and they faced such overwhelming odds.

      Dear Anu, what are they dealing with at this very moment?

      I can’t help them right now, so it does no good to worry. She raised her chin. Tomorrow or the next day I will return.

      Cassia sucked in a deep breath as another royal assistant tugged and arranged the fabric so that it draped perfectly from the aquamarine diamond broach on Cassia’s right shoulder and across her breasts. The material then dropped to reveal her left shoulder, the curve of her breast, and down to her waist until the white fabric reached another large aquamarine diamond pendant. The material would part along her left leg when she walked, baring it to her hip, and her back was not covered.

      The cool breeze sifted through the trees outside the palace window and brushed her bared skin. She shivered more from the fact she had never allowed so much of her body to be revealed. And she was going to be dressed this way during the ceremony in front of a group of Elders, royalty, and others held in high regard among the Light Elves. It was a rare, sacred ceremony that few were allowed to attend.

      Cassia almost groaned aloud at the thought of so many people being at her ceremony. Her cheeks heated like they had earlier when Daire had almost kissed her.

      She had to squeeze her eyes shut when an image of Jake replaced Daire’s face. She forced both images away before opening her eyes again.

      What would they call it on Earth? A crush? No that was too juvenile. Perhaps an infatuation? All she knew was that she desired Jake so much that she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

      Don’t want for what you can’t have, Cassia.

      Ascension ceremony. Concentrate on the ceremony.

      Accept that Daire will take you through your transition and likely be your life mate.

      Cassia had not yet been born when her brother Nik’s ceremony took place a millennia ago. Of Cassia’s siblings, Nik was closest in age. Considering the Guardian had been alive countless millennia, even bearing one child every thousand years, she had many sons. Nik was the only brother she was remotely close to and even then she barely knew him.

      Of course double standards applied even in Otherworld, and her brothers had not had to remain virgins before their ceremonies.

      Another zap of magic almost escaped her. She had always hated the fact that men were not kept to the same rules as women. And being the only female descendent of the Great Guardian, those around her had been even more protective and watchful.

      “It is time.” Kellyn, a red-haired Elvin maiden who was Cassia’s dearest friend, took Cassia’s hand and helped her down the steps from the short dais. Kael moved to Cassia’s other side, and she stroked his pure white fur. Kellyn gave a deep nod before leading Cassia through the palace in the trees, Kael remaining at Cassia’s side.

      The polished wood was smooth and familiar beneath Cassia’s bare feet as she walked beside her friend. Neither spoke, and even Kael was quiet in her mind. It was as if they both knew Cassia couldn’t find words to say anything at all at the moment.

      Cassia’s skin tingled as a sense of the surreal made her feel as if she was outside her body, watching as she passed high arched windows with vines and flowers twisting through them.

      They entered a great room with several Elvin women prepared to guide Cassia through her ascension. She had the strong urge to turn and run as her chest and belly squirmed.

      Instead, she continued, her head raised high. She was the daughter of the most powerful being in the Elvin world, and she would present herself as such.

      The Elvin females drifted to stand on either side of Cassia, their blue robes swirling around their bare feet. Kael refused to budge from Cassia’s side.

      The deafening silence made Cassia want to shout to break it. She reached deep for her calming center and held onto all the peace within that she had spent centuries cultivating.

      But the wild strength of her growing magic was becoming harder to contain, and she had to fight to make it behave.

      When four women lined up—two to either side of Cassia—they took a step back so that Cassia and Kael would lead them. Kellyn bowed to Cassia before slipping away and leaving her alone at the head of her attendants.

      Despite herself, Cassia trembled as she walked slowly from the great room, through the archway, and into the gentle sunlight.

      She stopped at the top of the many stairs leading from the palace to a courtyard. Stretched out in front of her was what seemed like a vast number of Elvin faces, but there were probably fifty at most. The orchid and grass-scented breeze tugged at the material of her gown, pushing it aside at the slit and baring her leg to her thigh.

      A slow murmur rolled through the crowd when she appeared and she swallowed hard.

      Cassia kept her chin raised, but Daire caught her eye as he stood at the base of the steps. He was glorious, handsome beyond belief, in a robe as green as his eyes and his white-blond hair gleaming in the sunlight.

      “Kael, you must go now,” she said in her thoughts as she glanced down at the wolf.

      Kael gave the slightest of nods, then silently padded down the steps and moved to the side of the crowd.

      Complete silence filled the courtyard beneath the tree palace. Cassia’s heart tripped as if it had tumbled down the expanse of stairs before her. She felt the Great Guardian’s presence and caught her pure wildflower scent the moment her mother appeared.

      Cassia tried to still her trembling as she turned to her right and faced her mother. She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look upon her. Her hair, even blonder than Daire’s, tumbled to her feet, and her white gown flowed like liquid down her body. She had known countless millennia, yet her appearance was youthful, flawless. But her blue eyes . . . her eyes showed wisdom that Cassia couldn’t begin to fathom. Wisdom born of time immortal.

      The Guardian’s presence was awesome, even to Cassia. She knelt and lowered her head, as did every other Elvin man and woman who surrounded them.

      “Rise, my daughter.” The Guardian’s voice rang clear and true. “Today is for you.”

      When Cassia straightened and looked into her mother’s eyes, the Guardian smiled, sending joy to Cassia’s very core.

      “All, rise,” the Great Guardian said, and Cassia was aware of everyone obeying without hesitation.

      The Guardian was known by no other name, except “Mother” to her biological children. Cassia often wondered if the Guardian had ever had another name.

      When the Guardian reached for Cassia’s shoulders, Cassia started to shake so hard she was afraid her knees would give out. But when her mother’s hands rested on her upper arms, calm and peace flooded Cassia’s being. She stopped trembling and her belly no longer clenched. The magic that had been pinging wildly inside her slowed and Cassia contained it with ease.

      “It is time for you to receive your birthright.” The Guardian’s voice softened and she spoke so low that only Cassia could hear. “You will feel great pain, pain beyond anything you have known.”

      Cassia’s eyes widened and a knot formed in her belly. She hadn’t known about the pain part. The ceremony was so Anu-blessed buried in mystery. And it was probably different for her than it had been for her brothers.

      Double standards, my—

      The Guardian studied Cassia. “Once you have received your powers, your transition will not be complete until you have lain with a male of pure Elvin blood.”

      Jake’s face, his muscular body, and everything honorable about him, flashed behind Cassia’s eyes and she had to shove the thoughts aside.

      As if she had seen the images in Cassia’s mind, the Guardian narrowed her gaze. “An Elvin male of pure blood. Until you have mated, your powers will be strong, but the transition will not be complete.”

      “Yes, My Lady,” Cassia whispered.

      “There is something important you must know, Cassiandra.” The Guardian’s eyes penetrated Cassia to her very magical core. “You have no choice but to complete the transition. The magic growing inside you shall become vast and uncontrollable—and you will not survive without a male to guide you through the transition.”

      Cassia nearly stopped breathing and heat rushed through her in a violent wave. She would die?

      The Guardian gripped Cassia’s upper arms tighter. “The fates of Otherworlds depend on your ascension, on you taking my place within the next six centuries.”

      Cassia couldn’t find the words to respond as her world spun enough to make her dizzy enough to tip right off the stairs.

      Her mother’s eyes darkened so much the blue almost appeared black. “Prepare yourself for what will come now in your ascension ceremony,” the Guardian said. “You must not cry out, struggle, or lose consciousness. You must not show your pain in any way. If you do, you will not ascend. You will never have another opportunity.”

      Oh, goddess. Cassia hadn’t known about any of this. Why couldn’t she have at least been prepared beforehand? To be left in such darkness about things so important was beyond not right.

      But then the Guardian had not been known for giving anyone all of the information they required. Her and her damned mysteries!

      “Do you understand what you must do at this moment, Cassiandra?” the Guardian said in a harsher tone.

      “Yes, My Lady,” Cassia managed to squeeze out of her throat as her heart pounded hard enough to hurt.

      The Great Guardian didn’t smile. Her body began radiating a golden glow. Soft at first. But the light soon grew so bright Cassia could barely keep from wincing or closing her eyes. In moments she could no longer see the Guardian.

      Cassia tried to relax by focusing on her calm center. She almost succeeded when pain blasted her body and she was encompassed by pure white light.

      She barely held back a scream. The pain was so intense it felt like her flesh was being shredded from her bones. She could visualize it peeling away, charring until only her skeleton remained.

      The pain! Dear Anu, help me!

      Surely it was the goddess who answered her prayers to help her find the inner strength to keep her face a mask of what she hoped looked like perfect calm. Still she wanted to cry, let tears flood her cheeks. She wanted to writhe on the wood floor and beg the Guardian to stop.

      In the back of her mind, she knew Kael felt her anguish and wanted to come to her, to lend her some magical comfort, but instinctively knew that he could not.

      Cassia focused on her own face, her cheeks, her eyes, her lips. As pain dug through her, tearing her inside out, she blocked as much of it as she could by continuing to concentrate on keeping her face a mask.

      Then along with the pain a burst of power rocketed through her. Power that fought against the agony.

      Power surging. Awakening.

      Like a Phoenix reborn from ashes. The magic within her grew from what now seemed inconsequential compared to an all-consuming power that rose so high inside her she knew she would rise as a Phoenix does.

      The pain left, swift and sudden.

      In its place the magic, the power, healed her, made her whole again. Every nerve ending tingled and her hair prickled on her scalp. Right now it was as if she could fly if she tried. She felt high, ready to soar through the cloudless sky.

      Cassia’s mask remained and the Guardian let her hands drop away from Cassia’s upper arms.

      The Guardian’s smile was brilliant.

      Cassia managed to move her stiff lips enough to return her mother’s smile, but Cassia didn’t feel it in her heart.

      “Great power is now yours.” Again the Guardian’s eyes darkened. “As long as you do as I have instructed and lie with an Elvin male of pure blood within fifteen days time.”

      Fifteen days, fifteen days, fifteen days, chanted Cassia’s mind.

      The Great Guardian turned and faced the crowd that Cassia had all but forgotten. Cassia maintained her mask, knowing that was what her mother wanted.

      “Cassiandra has completed the first phase of her transition.” The Guardian’s voice rang like bells breaking the silence. “Within fifteen days’ time, following one more great and dangerous trial, she will ascend to the position of Guardian within the House of Guardians.”

      The applause broke out loud enough for Cassia to wish for human earmuffs. When the noise died down, she looked up at her mother, who gestured down the stairs. Cassia followed the motion of the Guardian’s hand and her gaze met Daire’s.

      Heat flushed her entire body. Heat of embarrassment, of fear, of doubt . . . and even the heat of arousal.

      “Go. Now.” The Guardian’s voice was firm, as if she knew a strong resistance to going to Daire squeezed Cassia’s body.

      She cast a final look to her mother then faced forward and took one shaky step after another toward Daire.

      Her destiny?

      It wasn’t right.

      Something isn’t right.

      But still she let Daire take her hand when she reached him. His grip was large, warm, and comforting. Her eyes met his—eyes that seemed to hold more than desire, but love, too.

      Yes, she cared for Daire. As a mentor, a friend. But could she be his lover? His mate?

      The crowd parted as Daire led her out of the courtyard, down a path, and through the trees.

      Behind her Kael’s disapproval reached out to her, but thankfully he did not follow.

      Along the path Daire escorted her, orchids bloomed in the trees in brilliant shades of red, orange, yellow, and pink. The very rare blue orchid was not to be seen. The colors blurred the farther they walked from the throng and the more nervous Cassia became.

      Daire squeezed her hand and she looked up at him. “Are you fearful, my sweet?”

      His term of endearment set her back a moment before she said, “I-I don’t know.” Was it fear she felt?

      As a future female Guardian awaiting her ascension, she had never been allowed to enter an unmated male’s house. Despite her centuries of existence, she only had a vague idea where he lived in the large city of the Light Elves and had never been to his home.

      Eventually they reached a fine residence. An Elvin servant opened the door and bowed, and closed it behind them once they walked inside.

      Everything within Cassia twisted and squirmed. For the second time that afternoon, she wanted to turn and run. Run far away. It didn’t matter where, just away from—from everything happening today.

      Daire led her through the beautiful home filled with fine Elvin paintings, sculptures, furniture, vines and flowers. They stepped onto one of the incredibly beautiful floor rugs that felt so soft to her feet that she wanted to lie down and snuggle on it—by herself.

      But she continued allowing Daire to guide her through his home until they reached a door that swung silently open. It closed just as quietly when they were inside the room.

      Cassia’s heart pounded and everything twisted tighter inside her as Daire brought her around to face him at the foot of a large bed. Cool air stirred in the room, stroking her skin that was not covered by the dress. The material fluttered, just like the flutter in her belly.

      “You are so beautiful, Cassiandra.” Daire reached up and fingered a lock of hair on her forehead. His voice was firm, deep, unwavering. “I have waited for this moment for what seems an eternity.”

      No words would come to Cassia as Daire let his hand slip away from her face. He stepped back and unfastened the belt to his robe at the same time.

      He eased the robe from his shoulders and let it slide to the floor, exposing every naked inch of him

Chapter 3

 

      San Francisco

      When Jake woke, sun streamed in from overhead skylights and he had to shield his eyes for a moment with the back of his hand until his eyes adjusted to the brightness. He checked his watched and cursed. He’d slept till noon, a full six hours, instead of his usual four.

      His biceps ached like a bitch with the double wounds from the Drow arrow a few weeks ago, and now the whatever-the-hell-it-was Stormcutter’s dagger. And his head felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

      After a quick hot shower and changing into a clean pair of well-worn blue jeans and a blue T-shirt, Jake headed toward the kitchen. His stomach rumbled, probably pissed he hadn’t made it to breakfast.

      “Hey, Jake.” Silver greeted him when he walked out of the hallway into the central area of the warehouse. The witch with silvery-blond hair stood next to her D’Danann husband, Hawk, obviously having been in a conversation with him. Silver gave Jake a curious look. “Someone’s here to see you. She’s in the kitchen.”

      “Thanks.” Jake didn’t let his surprise show as he nodded and headed toward the warehouse’s kitchen. If the woman was in that room, she wasn’t military, law enforcement, or government. He had a pretty good idea who she was even though he didn’t have a clue how she’d found him.

      The ever-present buzz of voices along with sounds of sawing and hammering pounded at his temples and the familiar smells of sawdust and old crude oil splatters made his headache worse. The once empty warehouse was still a work-in-progress as the Alliance converted it into a fully-functioning HQ.

      When Jake reached the door to the kitchen, he pushed it open and delicious smells of fresh baked cornbread immediately hit him, followed what smelled like beef stew.

       As he’d expected, Kat DeLuca sat at the large table, along with five of the eight D’Anu witches. He was keenly aware of Cassia’s absence. She’d left so mysteriously after the battle that ended up with a dark goddess destroyed and demons sent back to Underworld, a sort of hell in Otherworld.

      “Great investigating reporter’s instincts, Kat,” Jake said as the door swung shut behind him and he came to a stop next to her chair.

      “The best.” The beautiful woman only winced a little from her injuries, courtesy of a demon from the last battle, as she stood and reached up to brush her lips over Jake’s. Her familiar exotic scent, like green tea and ginger, swept over him. “You haven’t been to see me since I checked out of the hospital.”

      When she drew back, he noticed the looks of surprise on most of the witches’ faces.

      “Since when did you have a girlfriend?” Rhiannon said with a grin and her usual directness. “Mr. Aloof-I-so-don’t-care.”

      Kat arched an eyebrow, but Jake ignored the question. He’d never been inclined to discuss his personal life, and he wasn’t about to start. Hell, he’d never been inclined to have much of a personal life, come to think of it.

      But, yeah, he’d always had a woman waiting in the wings.

      That was different. That was sex. Not personal at all.

      With Kat, they’d enjoyed each other’s company, but he’d never planned to take it beyond that, and he didn’t think she ever had, either.

      “While you’re here I’ll give you a little tour.” Very little. Jake gestured to the door. Whatever reason Kat was here, he wasn’t interested in discussing it in front of the other women.

      Kat gave her sexy smile that usually set his insides on fire, but didn’t even light a spark now. Maybe it was his irritation at her locating the HQ. He’d deliberately kept her in the dark as much as anyone else outside the Alliance.

      He held the door open for her, feeling the curious stares of the women they left behind in the kitchen. He noticed Kat wore looser clothing than she normally did, likely to keep pressure off the stitched up furrows in her side where a demon had dug its claws into her once perfect olive skin.

      When they were alone—as much as they could be in the middle of a warehouse buzzing with activity—Kat studied him with a thoughtful expression. “You’re angry that I found you.”

      Jake pinched the bridge of his nose before he looked at Kat again. “How did you locate our HQ?”

      “Like you said, I’m a good investigative reporter.” She cocked her head and sunlight pouring in through the skylights gleamed on her short dark hair. “You should have told me everything, Jake.”

      “You know I couldn’t.” He ground his teeth. “I warned you to stay in your home.”

      “And you know that no way I’d do that regardless of the situation.” This time anger sparked in her gaze. “But I would have been better prepared.”

      Jake pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes before he looked at Kat again. “I’m sorry.” He took her by the shoulders. “I was under orders. And you’re the press, baby.”

      She jerked away and looked at his freshly bandaged arm. “What happened?”

      Jake shrugged. “Nothing.”

       “There’s more going on now that you’re not telling me.” Kat propped her hands on her hips. “This madness isn’t over yet, is it,” she said as a statement, not a question.

      Jake remained quiet for a long moment. “If I told you what to stay away from, you’d head straight for it. The best way I can protect you is to give you as little information as possible.”

      Kat clenched her jaw. “That’s not fair.”

      “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Jake heaved out a sigh. “Damn it, Kat. You need to stay in your home. Especially now.”

      “You’re not going to budge on this, are you,” she stated in a flat tone.

      He shook his head. “No.”

      She took a step back, but stopped just as she started to turn. “You never did answer the question I asked you before that—that insanity on the wharf. What kind of relationship do we have? We’ve been dating for a year—although the last six months I wouldn’t call dating.”

      Jake had been running on adrenaline and exhaustion for so long that he wasn’t clear on anything right now. It was definitely not the time to have this conversation. Feelings. Emotions.

      Where are we going? Do we have something special? Something real?

      He’d rather be beaten.

      But, he knew Kat deserved something. He’d given her all he could—even if it wasn’t much. For that, he was sorry, and sorrier still he’d never find the words to explain the hollow, cold space inside him that just didn’t connect.

      Too much damage.

      He knew lots of guys like that from the service. He could be their Special Forces Recon squad leader.

      Only my squad got dead, didn’t they?

      Shoving away the bitter thoughts, Jake moved toward Kat, cupped her cheeks in his hands, leaned down, and gave her a soft but brief kiss. When he raised his head she looked at him with eyes that held questions he couldn’t answer.

      “A threat’s still out there that’s possibly even worse.” He rubbed her chin with his thumb. “Stay inside. Stay safe.”

      Kat looked at him a long moment before she backed away from his touch. “I’ll only wait so long, Jake.”

      Before he could respond, she turned and walked to a side door of the warehouse and let herself out.

      Why was he feeling so surprised?

      It always went like this, didn’t it? Real women, good women, normal women—they could only stick around so long, trying to love a straw man.

      Jake cursed under his breath and strode toward the kitchen to get something to eat. After that he’d head to the park for a little solitude and a hard workout to burn off some of the frustration gripping his mind and body.

#

      Air stirred blades of grass in one of Golden Gate Park’s meadows as Jake went through his jujitsu exercises. He kept his breathing deep and even, his movements smooth and fluid.

      Rather than being in his whites, he had stayed in his T-shirt and jeans, and remained armed. These days he didn’t go anywhere without his gun and dagger. He probably should follow his own orders and have at least another officer with him or stayed and pumped weights in the gym at HQ.

      But, Christ, he was sick of feeling hemmed in and he just needed fresh air, space, and time alone.

      A prickling sensation rolled up the back of Jake’s neck.

      Blood pounded in his ears. His heart rate spiked.

      Someone or something was coming at him from behind.

      He dropped to the ground and rolled to the left. The warmth of the assailant’s body brushed Jake’s as the man attacked. Jake smelled the man’s sweat at the same time.

      The large man cursed as he missed and slammed his shoulder against the grass. But he never stopped his momentum. At the same time he rolled to Jake’s right, the man smoothly and effortlessly got to his feet.

      A man Jake recognized.

      What the hell?

      Jake didn’t have a second for anymore thought. He already stood, one foot solidly on the ground, the knee of his other leg drawn to his side. The moment the man got to his feet, Jake put power into driving his leg out and ramming his foot into his attacker’s solar plexus.

      The man grunted as air whooshed from his lungs, but he’d brought his hands up in time to grab Jake’s foot. He twisted it hard to his right.

      Jake flipped in the same direction as the motion, keeping his body moving fluidly. He wrenched his foot from the man’s grasp. He again landed in the grass, his Glock digging into his hip as he hit the ground. Pain exploded in his injured bicep.

      The assailant dove for Jake. The man’s weight crushed against Jake’s sternum and he couldn’t breathe.

      Before the man pinned him to the ground, Jake whipped his dagger from the holster on his belt. The blade met the assailant’s throat. One movement and steel would bury itself into his jugular.

      The man glared at Jake before he grinned, eased off Jake, and stood. “How’s it going?”

      “Sonofabitch.” Pain shot through Jake’s injured arm as he shoved the dagger into its sheath before pushing himself to his feet, still keeping an eye on his old friend. “Bourne, you’re a real lucky man.”

      David Bourne laughed and rubbed his hand over his high-and-tight haircut. “So that’s how you greet your Marine buddy, Captain Macgregor?”

      Seeing Bourne brought back rushes of memories. Good ones, for once. Jake had served in the U.S. Marine Corps for eight years after getting his bachelor’s degree at San Francisco State University. He’d trained with Bourne at for six months at Quantico, Virginia in the Officer Candidates Course, and they’d both served in the MEU out of Camp Pendleton.

      Over his years of service, during special recon missions, Jake had commanded his squad and dealt with some weird paranormal shit. After he’d led his men into the dark magic trap, he’d decided to leave the service to head the San Francisco Paranormal Special Forces.

      He couldn’t take back the past, but he could do all he damn well could for the future.

      Every muscle in Jake’s body tensed when he thought about last night.

      Another failure. More good men and women dead.

      Above his wounded biceps, Jake rubbed the eagle, globe, and anchor insignia tattoo on his upper right arm.

      Jake pushed away the feelings, the failures eating away at his gut. “These days it’s dangerous to be pulling stunts like that,” he said.

      Bourne shrugged. “I had ya.”

      As he brushed grass off his T-shirt and jeans, Jake shook his head. “I’m the one who almost gave you a second smile.”

      “Could have taken you out but let you have it easy.”

      “Uh-huh.”

      Bourne hooked his thumbs through his jeans belt loops as he looked around the meadow where Jake had been going through his exercises. “Hard to believe there’s a war going on in this city, peaceful as this place is, Bull.”

      When they were at Quantico, Bourne had given Jake the nickname “Bull” for his bull-headedness, and it had stuck throughout Jake’s years of service.

      Jake had retaliated by pinning the nick “Speed” on Bourne for his ability to get any woman into bed every time they’d been given leave.

      “Believe it, Colonel Bourne.” Jake scooped up a towel from where he’d left it on the grass and wiped sweat from his forehead. The chill San Francisco air was already cooling his body down from the workout. “Things are so screwed that for all I know you could be on the other side.”

      “Definitely fucked up.” Bourne’s green eyes met Jake’s and his expression grew serious.

      “’Bout time you were shipped in to get in the middle of this.” Jake tossed his towel over his shoulder and began walking toward a tree-lined path, Bourne falling in step beside him.

      “Brigadier General Christian’s orders.” Bourne’s demeanor changed from casual to that of a highly trained military officer. Bourne commanded an elite unit of the U.S. Marines out of Camp Pendleton, the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit, MEU.

      “With the Marines being spread thin due to the war in the Middle East, getting our shit together for this magnitude of a threat, in such a short amount of time, hasn’t been easy,” Bourne added.

      “I figured.” Jake glanced at the sky and the thickening clouds. “It’s all come down pretty fast since that stadium full of people were slaughtered. But the military—slow as Christmas.”

      “The whole country’s losing it over this—whatever this is—now that it’s common knowledge,” Bourne continued. “And now that nobody’s lying about terrorist attacks anymore. What happened in that stadium—”

      “You don’t know the half of it, Speed,” Jake said as they reached his black sports car. A military jeep was parked behind him.

      Bourne gave him a sharp look. “We’ve got three ships, twenty-two hundred Marines and a crapload of major equipment.”

      “More than we have.” Jake felt a measure of relief that at least some reinforcements were at their disposal. “I just hope that’s enough.”

      “Must be worse that we thought.” Bourne shook his head. “If that’s the case, after we do some reconnaissance, they’ll send in the MEB, seventeen thousand strong. Even with what’s going on in the Middle East, we’ll be able to pull that together.” Bourne flexed his muscles. “Should be more than enough.”

      “Let’s hope to God you’re right.”

      “You can’t be serious, man.”

      “I wish I wasn’t.”

      The entire time they’d walked to the vehicles, Jake remained entirely aware of Bourne and every movement the man made. After all that had been going down in San Francisco, what Jake had said earlier to his old buddy had been true—no one could afford to completely trust anyone.

      It wasn’t until the last three to four weeks that it had hit the fan on a public, large-scale basis. What had been going down over the past few months escalated in the last few weeks from an unknown, practically invisible threat to a full-fledged paranormal war. With the destruction of the dark goddess, officials thought the threat was over, but they weren’t even close to being right.

       “We’ve heard all the bullshit from the bureaucrats.” Bourne leaned his back against Jake’s car. “Not to mention every high-placed official in this city has vanished from the mayor to a senator. And some of the wealthiest, most influential people in San Francisco. The world even.” The tenseness in Bourne’s body was obvious by the flex in his muscles. “Give it to me straight.”

      Jake snorted. “You probably won’t believe it.”“

      “I’ve seen the news footage.” Bourne’s stare was intense. “Our unit has reviewed the coverage over and over since we deployed, and we’ve been briefed—as much as they can tell us.” He shook his head. “Looked like some sci-fi flick. A bitch with wings, monsters ripping throats and gutting civilians, then all of the monsters and bitch disappearing . . . this is some tripped up mess we’re supposed to believe.”

      “What you saw was real.” Jake settled his hip against his car door and casually rested one hand on his duty belt, near his Glock. “We’d been fighting those sonsofbitches since Halloween but managed to keep it under wraps for a few months until the winged bitch—a freaking goddess from a place called Underworld—started killing masses several weeks ago. In broad daylight.”

       “What’s been handed down to us is that she was destroyed. Saw it on the tapes.” Bourne shifted against the car. “Some think she’ll be back.”

      “Fortunately we’re positive she’s history.” Jake rubbed his temples. “Now the problem is a warlock named Darkwolf who somehow absorbed that goddess’s powers and magic, along with the power of another god.”

      “God, goddess, warlock, magic, powers.” Bourne gave a humorous laugh. “A little too much to swallow.”

      Jake wiped his sweaty face again with the end of the towel. “I wish.”

      Bourne’s expression showed he was assessing the situation. “What’s with this warlock?”

      “Some heavy shit went down last night . . .” Jake shook his head. “I’ll fill you in later. Things aren’t looking too good right now.” Jake pushed himself away from the car and studied Bourne. “How’d you find me?”

      “I’ve got high level security clearance on this one, Bull.” Bourne uncrossed his arms and hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans again. “The higher ups told me to find you and your Paranormal Special Forces team at that warehouse on the pier that you and a bunch of freaks commandeered to use as your HQ.”

      Jake’s scalp prickled and he scowled at Bourne. “Those freaks are damned good in a fight and have saved all our lives more than once. Watch what you say or you might just find yourself on the receiving end of their ‘talents.’” He clicked the remote and unlocked his car. “I’m surprised they’d give you my location.”

      “The chicks who called themselves something like Deeanoo witches checked me out.” Bourne smirked. “One ‘witch’ named Rhiannon had a vision that I’d be covering your ass in some mess or another.”

      “D’Anu witches,” Jake said. “They’ll probably be bailing your ass out.”

      With a grin, the powerful Marine shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out his own keys. “Whatever you say.”

      Jake’s muscles tensed, automatically wanting to defend every odd being on the team that was going to take down the warlock, Darkwolf.

      Instead, Jake relaxed and the corner of his mouth curved in an amused smile. The team didn’t need his defense—once Bourne saw the witches, D’Danann warriors, Dark Elves, and Jake’s own PSF officers in action, Bourne would be choking on every ounce of skepticism.

      The sudden smell of rain and gust of wind sent a chill down Jake’s spine. He looked up at the swirling black clouds directly above them. The early evening light vanished and everything around them darkened.

      A musty, bitter odor filled the air.

      Jake’s heart jack hammered as he glanced at his friend. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”

      “What the hell’s going on?” Bourne shouted just as rain began pouring in sheets and plastering their clothes to their bodies.

      A water funnel appeared. Then another.

      “No time to explain.” Jake drew his Glock and gripped it with both hands as he aimed it at one of the funnels barreling down on him. He had to shout to be heard over the growing wind and thunder. “When they come to a stop a man will be on you with a blade. Shoot to kill.”

      “What the—” Bourne started before the sound of a gunshot echoed through the park.

      At least twenty more funnels appeared, surrounding them, and Jake’s heart thundered harder than the vibrations form the lightning around them. Water splashed his face hard as the first funnel came to a stop and a Stormcutter slashed at his face with an ice dagger.

      Jake was ready and popped him in the head with one shot. Bourne was at Jake’s back, cursing, the sound of his own gun muffled in the fierceness of the storm. Jake jammed his foot against one man’s thigh, shoving him away at the same time he took out another Stormcutter.

      Every time one of the funnels came to a halt, water splashed Jake’s eyes, impairing his vision. But he continued to battle with a vengeance. He clenched his jaws as he fought with his elbows, his fists, his legs. Bourne continued to fire and shout, letting Jake know he was still alive.

      Just as he was about to shoot a Stormcutter, another one appeared.

      He shoved a dagger into Jake’s gut.

      Excruciating pain ripped through Jake as the Stormcutter buried the ice-blade deep. A shout of agony tore from Jake’s throat.

      The Stormcutter cried out with triumph as he drove Jake to the ground with the power of his thrust.

      Nearly blind with pain and weakness as blood gushed from his body, Jake still managed to get off one more shot, and blew out the bastard’s brains who’d taken him down.

      Jake got off a few more shots before another Stormcutter buried a second dagger below Jake’s ribcage. His arms went slack, the gun too heavy to keep a grip on as blood bubbled up his throat. Rain pounded Jake as he looked through glazed eyes at the grinning faces of several naked men who now surrounded him.

      One of the men stepped forward and stood over Jake, a dagger in his hand.

      He drove the ice-blade straight for Jake’s heart.

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