The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance)) Page 6

  Cian stood. His nose mere inches from the Werepanther. Hair sprouted from the Were’s body, bones cracked and snapped, beginning to reform. The panther pressed a heavy paw against Cian’s throat. Claws tore slowly through his flesh.

  He narrowed his eyes, his muscles tensing with the need to rip into the panther. But years had taught him patience. Anger made him sloppy, he’d wait for the panther to screw up.

  The half man, half cat screamed as only a panther could. Cian knew he was seconds from striking.

  He wouldn’t give him a chance. He struck first, grabbing the paw and crushing down. The sickening sound of tendon and bone breaking reverberated around them. The Were screamed in agony and shifted back to human, falling to the ground in a writhing ball.

  Lise’s gaze was on him, heavy and assessing. Pressing in, making him feel claustrophobic. He turned to look at her. She glanced from him to the fallen Were and back again.

  She snapped her fingers and the rolling body of the Were disappeared.

  “Nothing to see here. Dance,” Lise ordered to the immobile throng still held spellbound by the threat of violence lingering in the air. Her words were a compulsion to obey, at once they all dispersed and returned to what they were doing.

  Bezel chortled. “Hell man! Now that’s why I like you. Always guaranteed to see some action when you’re around. I promise if you ever bind me, I’d probably let you live.” He slapped Cian on the back.

  His heart thudded painfully against his chest knowing how close he’d come in one night to oblivion, first from The Morrigan and next from Lise. It seemed he, and not his dark witch, had the death wish.

  “Dirty fae.” Bezel’s sorcerer appeared out of nowhere, wearing a mightier-than-thou sneer.

  Cian turned to look at the bulky mass of Bezel’s bindsmen. Any empathy he’d once held for the sorcerer melted.

  “Come now, demon. I’ll not cavort with the likes of him.” He stamped off, heading toward the exit. “Have to speak with Lise about this.”

  Bezel stared at the retreating figure of the sorcerer. “On second thought, Cian. You’ll probably be cleaning up my mess sooner rather than later.”

  Cian glanced at the exit as the sorcerer stepped through. But something else caught his eye. His gothic rose.

  Her brows were lowered, her lips parted, and she was projecting an intense feeling of confusion.

  Not good.

  Where have I seen him before? There was something oddly familiar about the man at the bar.

  Eve studied him, perplexed as to why she couldn’t seem to rip her gaze away.

  His hair was long, longer than most--trailing well past his waist. The soft, blue lights illuminated the black and white strands, making them stand out in a bold relief of ebony and ice. It looked natural. Only because he wore the look so well. Which intrigued her more. What man had hair like that? Not normal.

  The man was a chiseled beauty. He went way beyond handsome. Sculpted cheekbones. Square cut jaw. Long, strong nose tapering into a full, firm mouth.

  Just looking at him made her feel as if she’d bitten into decadence and her body definitely noticed, hot shivers coursed down her spine. Even her breathing increased by a notch. She’d once seen a commercial of a woman staring at a hot man in bed and how her pupil’s had dilated. Were hers doing the same?

  Like two magnets being drawn together, he finally looked her way. Mesmerizing eyes, the color of sea frost, held her enthralled.

  Those eyes. A thread of a memory tried to worm its way out.

  “Gorgeous isn’t he?” Celeste grabbed her elbow.

  Startled, Eve jumped. “What? Oh... him?”

  Her sisters full red lips curved. “Mmm hmm.”

  She could lie, but the drool on her face was a dead giveaway. “Yes.” Her stomach clenched.

  He wasn’t just gorgeous. He’d fully crossed over into the hot category.

  “He’s gotta be vamp. Too pretty.” Celeste smacked her lips. “Just my type. Too bad he’s looking at you like your dinner. I wouldn’t mind a nibble before bed. Yum.”

  Eve grinned. “You’re pathetic, Cel. There is such a thing as knowing too much.”

  “Pft.” Celeste rolled her eyes. “Please, you’re my sister. You’ve heard worse.”

  “Heard the panther he just pounded call him a Fae,” Eve said low. She knew all about them, but had never seen one for herself. Fae’s were said to be a dangerous seduction, leaving many a human to mourn lost lovers to their deaths.

  But beneath the mythic beauty of a Fae also lay a deadly history. Eve hadn’t been around during the Great Wars, but she’d lost several ancestors to the treachery of the fairy.

  No one wise cavorted with them. Shame too. The tantalizing daydream of sleeping with the enemy never sounded more appealing. So long as it was tall, dark, and handsome over there.

  Celeste narrowed her moss green eyes. “No way,” she said with conviction. “He’s missing the ears. Definitely vamp. Besides,” she shrugged, “you know faes aren’t permitted in the X. Lise would have kicked him out long ago.”

  “True.” Eve smiled, her thoughts again veering toward the gutter. Suddenly he was even more appealing.

  He was still staring at her with that same intensity, as if he weren’t just looking at her, but devouring her. A hot shiver traveled down her spine. The man was erotic turned flesh.

  His looks made her think of a pirate, legs spread wide on the bow of his ship, hands resting casually on his hips. That long hair would be whipping behind him, white shirt exposed, tanned flesh peeking out like one of those heroes on the covers of a cheesy romance novel.

  Eve rolled her eyes at the image, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was so darn sexy, she’d have turned and walked away.

  She imagined those full lips nuzzling her throat, maybe even the sharp scrape of fangs against her flesh. Liquid heat crashed between her thighs.

  Down girl!

  “Hey babe,” Celeste’s calm voice cast a spell, dragging Eve kicking and screaming back from her carnal thoughts. “You’re spitting energy like a firework. Turn down those projections, please. I would rather not know how sex deprived my little sister is right now. Thanks.” She rubbed a hand down her arms. “Jeez, Lise worked a number on you.”

  The fine hairs on Eve’s arms stood on edge. “Ugh. Sorry.” She turned her back on the man. “Lise didn’t do anything. But I do feel like a big ball of horny right now. Get me out of here before I embarrass myself.”

  “Too late.” Celeste grinned and flipped her golden braid over her shoulder. “And good luck trying to get Tamryn away from that bear.”

  Eve followed Cel’s pointing finger to see Tamryn with her arms wrapped around a big hulk of a Were, laughing. He was a nice, dark ebony. A werebear. Just Tamryn’s type. She always did go a little nutso over them. Something to do with the myth being true. She hadn’t wanted to ask more.

  “Well,” she sighed. “Maybe we can stay a little longer.”

  ***

  “Eve. Celeste, this is Harry,” Tamryn said, making quick introductions.

  Eve stuck out her hand. “Hey.”

  His grip was firm, the skin rough but pleasant. He grinned, revealing a straight row of white teeth.

  “Hey, witchy woman.”

  Her lips quirked and she shot Tamryn a look. Witchy woman? Only through sheer will did she refrain from rolling her eyes. Not like she hadn’t heard that one before.

  Tamryn seemed oblivious, a goofy grin on her face.

  “Right.” Eve dropped his hand, not altogether happy with the way the bear kept pinching Tamryn’s butt. Her sister had terrible taste in men. “Well, let’s go, please. I’m tired.”

  It was well past midnight. Time when all the baddies went bump in the night. Sorry, but she wasn’t really in the mood to become someone’s light snack tonight.

  She thought of frost blue eyes and smirked. Well for the right baddie she just might.

  Eve walked quickly through the club, down the
stairs and out the entryway. Soon as she stepped foot outside she took a deep breath. The city smelled of salt, fish, and danger. It quivered just below the surface, like a pot of water two seconds before boiling. San Francisco always seemed on the brink of erupting into violence. And she loved it.

  This was home. Truth was she felt more at peace living alongside the so-called “evil”. Maybe because she was one of them. Solidarity in numbers. It was comforting. Peaceful, even.

  Her sisters and Harry finally caught up. Eve snuggled deeper into the black leather trench coat, it was just this side of nippy tonight. But that tended to happen living so close to the bay. Regardless that it was nearly springtime.

  They walked.

  Minutes later, Harry growled low in his throat. Alerting her a split second before her natural instincts kicked in that something was really wrong. She stopped walking. An unmistakable prickle of danger danced across her flesh.

  The sisters huddled close. They linked hands and waited to see if the threat would pass and leave them be, or insist in drawing them into a battle. Fear thundered in her ears as she listened to the sounds of night.

  The soft lap of water against rocks, the buzz of flickering street lamps, scraped on her skull like nails on a chalkboard. She closed her eyes, searching, stretching her senses.

  A soft bump. The distinctive crunch of bones. The sound slithered down her spine and coiled around her heart.

  She opened her eyes. Whatever it was, was in the alley.

  “Tamryn,” she hissed. “What’s out there?”

  Tamryn’s violet eyes were wide. “I can’t fix its aura.”

  Things were going from bad to worse. Tamryn was a rock. Her powers never backfired. She’d always been depended upon to get a read on a person’s aura and tell the sisters’ what it was and how to prepare. Run, stay, or hide. It was creepy not knowing what lay up ahead.

  She licked her lips, the uneasy feeling that they were walking into a trap, made her breathless.

  Celeste groaned. “Great time for your powers to fizz out on us. What do we do now?”

  Harry was in the halfway stage between bear and man. His muzzle was there, but the incisors weren’t. He was still able to talk. “There’s no other escape. We have to cut through the alleyway. Just follow me. We’re four to its one. We should be fine.”

  Then he dropped to his knees and switched to bear. Black, thick hairs tore through his skin. His feet and hands transformed into large, heavy paws. Lethal looking claws ripped through the toes. He was frightening in Were form.

  Eve liked him a little bit better for it. But just a little.

  Harry lumbered forward and they followed.

  Each step she took sounded like thunder to her ears. She tried to hold her breath. She didn’t want the thing to notice them at all.

  This wasn’t some vamp or Were out for food. This thing could only be an ancient if it’d been able to block Tamryn’s mental push, and from the frantic sounds of slurping, enjoying itself way too much.

  Her gaze shifted around the slithering shadow of the alleyway. The sounds were getting louder. They were close.

  A blur of red standing beside a dumpster caught her eye. Its silhouette was man. It didn’t move. Her skin crawled, like the feeling of having a thousand maggots roll across her body.

  Eve bit her lip, thinking it might be the ancient something. But the slurping was still going on a little further up.

  She clenched Cel’s hand so hard she bunched the fingers. Her sister hissed and glanced at her.

  Eve pointed at the dumpster. But the man was gone.

  Icy fear rammed through her skull.

  Then suddenly the night exploded with sound.

  Harry was standing on his hind legs, swiping with a massive paw at a hunched figure.

  The figure roared, and with a taloned paw, ripped into Harry’s stomach. The bear snarled and rammed its head into the creature’s shoulder.

  It stumbled back, but didn’t fall. The thick stench of blood filled the night like a beacon. Soon it would attract every vamp and Were to the area like a shark’s feeding frenzy. They needed to end this now.

  The sisters formed a circle and began to chant. A red haze seeped from the silver talismans hanging around their necks. The large ruby on Eve’s necklace began to glow with heat, flame sparked from its center. Tamryn’s and Cel’s did the same. It was the manifestation of their power. It grew bigger, wider--transforming into the image of a burning phoenix. Orange flames snapped and popped from the body of the bird. Its great golden beak rose into the air and it let out a piercing scream of warning.

  But the fighting between Harry and the creature was far from over. The creature grabbed Harry around the middle and threw him against a brick wall. The side of the building shuddered and cracked. Dust and stone flew through the air.

  To throw a half-ton bear through the air like it weighed no more than a feather brought fear, sharp and twisting, to Eve’s gut. What was this thing?

  She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. The creature unfurled from its crouching stance and faced them, half in and out of shadow. A street lamp illuminated its features.

  “Oh my goddess!” Tamryn breathed.

  A chill black silence enveloped them.

  Demon. It was a demon. They couldn’t contain it. Not without its true name.

  It advanced. Each step deliberate. Slow. Toying with them. Lavender eyes, set in a farm boy face glowed with malice.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs. But she couldn’t rip her gaze away, like watching a train headed straight at you. Knowing you had no chance to escape the death that awaited on impact.

  As one, the sisters hurled their phoenix into the advancing form of the demon. The demon hissed and spit, swiping at the burning fire as the phoenix gouged into his flesh with its dagger like beak.

  The battle was intense and the sisters trembled trying to contain their energy as the demon ripped and clawed at their bird.

  Sweat beaded on Eve’s brow, her body ached as she pushed her will at the creature. Black tracks of ooze slid down the demon’s sun-kissed face, but it wasn’t enough. With one mighty swipe the demon cowed the phoenix and twisted its head off, shattering the illusion, and knocking the sisters to the ground, spent and shivering.

  Small stones and rubble bit into Eve’s cheek. The chill from the asphalt seeped into her pores. She knew she’d never be warm again. Her jaw clattered as the numbing cold of ice traveled through her veins, freezing her from the inside out. They’d used too much magick; she had none left to defend herself. Blearily she looked for her sisters, fear hammering in her heart for their safety.

  Then her eyes widened as the silhouette of the man she’d seen standing by the dumpster appeared by the Demon’s elbow. He was whispering words she couldn’t decipher.

  The demon grinned and then his gaze zeroed in on her. That’s when she knew…

  She’d been marked for death.

  Cian watched as one by one the sisters left the club, followed closely by a large Were.

  He rolled his neck from side to side and waited. Last thing he wanted was to have the bear catch wind of his scent.

  The women wouldn’t know he was friend and not foe. Never a good idea to startle three witches and a bear.

  He glanced at the clock wall. The club was still packed to capacity at one in the morning.

  Five minutes passed before he felt it safe to follow. Scrubbing a tired hand down his face, he stood, ready to call it a night himself. First he needed to make certain that his witch made it home safely. Tomorrow he’d come up with the impossible plan to keep her safe from The Morrigan’s clutches.

  He didn’t stand a chance of coming up with one, but he was working hard at being more positive. Positive, he snorted. The Morrigan will roast my head over a spitfire, while Dagda chomps on my bones. How’s that for positive…

  With a growl he covered himself in stealth and moved quickly through the club.

  Death.
r />   He stopped and turned.

  Lise stood toe to toe behind him. She’d moved so quick she hadn’t even blurred.

  Lise.

  She smiled. You should hurry. Gray wisps of hair curled around her delicate face, giving credence to the illusion of frailty.

  He frowned.

  Then she was gone. Not even a trace of her remained. Cian shoved blunt fingers through his hair and refocused on his witch’s lifeline.

  He wasn’t sure when he’d started thinking of the dark witch as his, but somehow it seemed right.

  Then a sudden, ripping sensation of panic gnawed at his brain. She was in trouble. He felt it. In his heart. His soul. Her fear hammered at him.

  Running wouldn’t get him to her in time. He opened the portal between the here and there with a swipe of his hand.

  Immediately he was engulfed by color. The shifting lights a dizzying blur as he attuned himself to her spirit.

  Fire rammed through his body, down his skull and into his hand, turning it skeletal.

  Not now. Please.

  He moved quicker than he’d ever dared before. He fell out the portal to his knees, landing in a putrid, brackish puddle of water.

  Vertigo slammed through him. The world shifted out of focus. Dark fear, sick and twisting filled his nostrils, his head. A carnivore devouring his soul, driving out all sanity, all reason, until only a mad desperation remained.

  She needed him.

  Now!

  That thought gave him impetus enough to stand and fight off the overwhelming sensations. What he saw made his insides clench.

  Bezel was crouched before her fallen body. Her sisters were thrown aside, their bodies contorted into unnatural positions. They didn’t look broken, just unconscious. The Were was slumped half in a dumpster.

  The prickle of another reaper shot down his spine. He turned to see Frenzy in shadow.

  Stupid, Cian. You failed her. You should have sensed the trap.

  He clenched his jaw as the dark haze of fury blanketed his mind. He ran, slamming his shoulder into Bezel’s, throwing the demon to the concrete.