Obsessed (75 page)

Be prepared,
she warned herself.
Be ready for anything.

Evvan followed the killer through the skypath, able to see clearly with his keen Elvin vision, his sensitive hearing catching every breath the bastard took. Thank the goddess the Sorcerer was unable to use any magic on the fragile skypath, or ’twould have been a rougher journey, to be sure.

Unfortunately Evvan was also unable to use shrouding on the skypath, or any other magic, other than a glow to light the way, if he had need of it.

Light glimmered ahead and Evvan narrowed his eyes as the Sorcerer slipped through the skypath’s exit, the Faerie bouncing against his back. Hand clenched around his sword, Evvan bellowed, “Bastard!” and charged into a cold and bizarre night.

The moment Evvan entered the world on the other side of the path, icy air chilled his naked chest, a putrid smell clogged his senses and burned his eyes, and loud noises filled his ears. ’Twas as though huge storms blew through trees outside this forest he was now in.

And noises like the honking of geese, bellowing of cattle, the calls of the qinok and also a perna. Only these sounds were not made by any living creature. It was dark in this world, yet light, as though the goddess had chosen to illuminate the night without the sun.

All this Evvan assimilated in but a fraction of time, the moment he entered this foul-smelling, foul-sounding, foul-looking world. If he had not been so highly skilled a warrior, he would have been too distracted to dodge the Sorcerer-dragon’s first flame-blast.

Evvan dropped and rolled away, fire scorching the grass where he’d been standing a moment before. The Sorcerer, who had shape-shifted into dragon form, stood over the still body of Améa, her wings limp, her body lifeless.

Fury blazed through Evvan. “Damn you, Voral!” Fire filled his head as he charged the dragon, sword raised. He called on the goddess and the powers granted him at birth. The magic burned through him and his bellow of rage echoed through the strange night.

The dragon’s wings pumped up and down, the blade-sharp tips slicing nearby pines. Widening its cavernous jaws, the beast let loose with another flame-blast. Evvan easily deflected the flare with his sword. Using centuries worth of skill, the Devline Enforcer reflected the flames back and directly into the beast’s orange eyes before the Sorcerer had an opportunity to shield himself.

A scream of pain and fury ripped through the night. The dragon’s head reared back as though trying to shake away the pain. Without pause, Evvan aimed his sword at the dragon’s chest, prepared to drive it through the Sorcerer’s black heart—only to hear Améa’s moan and to see her raise her head up.

And the dragon’s massive clawed foot near to stomping on her.

Evvan could go for the Sorcerer’s heart, but Améa could lose her life.

As the dragon continued to fling its head to and fro while screeching its pain, Evvan sheathed his sword and dodged between the beast’s front legs. He scooped Améa into his arms just as the clawed foot slammed down, where the Faerie had been lying.

Evvan darted out from beneath the dragon. Holding Améa close to his chest, he ran as fast as the goddess could propel his feet. Prickles erupted at his nape, just as the dragon reared back to release another fire-blast.

The dragon’s roar vibrated through Natalie’s soul as she rushed toward the exit, horrible odors filling her senses. That smell, so familiar and so awful, mixed with the dragon’s rotten meat stench. Nat tore from the dark tunnel into the night beyond—and found herself in the last place she’d been prepared to end up in.

New York City’s Central Park. Right beside the bust of Ludwig van Beethoven.

It was damn cold, with her only in that skimpy transparent outfit and her feet were already turning into blocks of ice. Far in the sky the moon was three-quarters—it had been a harvest moon the last time she’d seen it. In the background she heard the roar of traffic, the honking of cars, the shouts of pedestrians, and so many noises that now seemed harsh rather than familiar.

But she ignored it all as her attention snapped to the dragon whose black scales glittered beneath the city lights. Even here the beast was almost invisible, like a chameleon blending in with the night and streetlights.

The dragon was opening its jaws, horrid teeth glinting, as it tracked a powerfully built man running from beneath its legs.

Evvan! And he had Améa in his arms.

At the thought of what the dragon could do to Evvan and Améa, such intense fear filled Natalie that she could barely breathe. But her fury was even greater. It raged through her like a mighty inferno that threatened to burn all that lay in its path.

The beast roared and then plumes of fire rolled out, directly at Evvan and the Faerie. Evvan glanced over his shoulder, as if he’d sensed the attack, and dropped to his hands and knees, Améa beneath him, as though to shield her from the flames.

“Leave them alone!” Nat shouted. With total focus from day after day after day of training with Evvan through the Netherworld, Natalie flung up a protective veil around her lover and her sister. The massive wall of flame boiled over them, but stopped several feet away, and spread in a domed shape.

Nat’s protection held.

Her birthmark tingled even more than ever, and somehow it seemed to lend strength to her magic. Using all that she had, Natalie garnered her powers. Without touching it with her hands, she magically tore Beethoven’s bust from its pedestal. Magic burned and boiled within Nat’s soul, like lava bubbling within a volcano about to spew its wrath across the lands.

“Take that you bastard!” she shouted, and flung the bust at the dragon’s head.

It sailed through the air like a missile and slammed into the beast’s skull. The crack of bone was like a gunshot in the night. The dragon screeched and its flame abruptly stopped.

The beast turned its furious glittering orange eyes on Natalie. Those hideous purple four-pointed stars it had for pupils contracted and its glare was absolutely murderous. The dragon took a step toward her. The ground vibrated and Nat barely kept to her feet.

Oh, shit.

There was another bust and a smaller statue, but would either be enough to do any serious damage to the dragon?

Wings beating hard enough to cause a strong wind to blow through the park, the dragon advanced on Nat. Leaves whipped around her and trees bowed from the force.

Blood thundered in her head as her gaze rested on one of the park’s lampposts.

The dragon roared and reared back.

Concentrating and trying not to totally freak, Nat called on her powers. The lamppost shook, but held fast.

Damn it. It’s just like one of those stalagmites I practiced breaking off and throwing in the Netherworld. Focus, Nat! You can do this!

The lamppost trembled, and then with a loud crack it tore loose from the concrete. Head aching from the effort of controlling the heavy post, Nat flung the lamp toward the dragon’s head.

The missile sailed through the air as if shot from Evvan’s bow.

With a sickening sound, the lamp pierced one of the dragon’s eyes, and buried itself deep within the beast’s skull.

For a moment the dragon swayed, a kind of shocked expression on its horrid face.

It let loose a screech that tore through Natalie’s head like nails down a chalkboard, and then its tremendous body slammed to the ground.

This time the reverberation was so great that Nat lost her footing and landed on her ass. Pain spiked through her tailbone and her eyes watered as she stared up at the dragon. Even on its belly, the beast towered over her.

The dragon raised its head and looked at Nat out of its one remaining orange eye, the lamppost still buried in the other. All the hatred in its soul was projected from its thoughts as Natalie heard a screeching voice in her head. She clamped her hands to her ears, as if that would block it out.

When your mother rejected me, Fae bitch, a man’s voice said in Nat’s mind, I swore I would kill her, all of her offspring, and any other Fae I could slay.

“You’re Voral.” Nat dropped her hands from her ears as she remembered what Anistana had told her earlier that morning. “You killed Anistana’s—our—mother,” Nat added as she tried to push off from the ground. Horror balled in Nat’s chest as she realized she couldn’t move the lower half of her body—as though she was pinned.

Something wasn’t right. He should be dying, but his thoughts were so clear and he was obviously using magic against her.

The bastard chuckled in her head.
’Tis why I brought you to Dair. If not for that Devline scum, you would have been dead a week now.
The Sorcerer-dragon raised its wings and started to push itself to its feet.
I must add that I most enjoyed slicing your mother’s throat, almost as much as I will enjoy taking you with me to the Afterworld.

Evvan fought against the barrier Natalie had used to shield him and Améa from the flames. That daft wench had neglected to remove it and Evvan roared with frustration as he fought to break through. Her magic was even stronger than it had been the last time she had thrown a shield around him. He tried to mind-speak with her, to tell her to remove the barrier, but his thoughts could not even penetrate the shield.

His frustration grew as he watched Natalie battle the dragon while he continued to fight against her spell shield. Fear for his l’tiani, his heartmate, heightened and his rage magnified. He gave a mighty bellow at the same moment he focused every bit of his magic on the shield.

The barrier vanished. Evvan roared and unsheathed his sword as he ran, leaving a dazed but very much alive Améa behind him.

As he rushed forward, he could hear the Sorcerer’s voice in his head as the bastard spoke to Natalie. He could sense Voral’s sorcery and saw that Nat was somehow pinned to the ground. Evvan raced toward the dragon’s chest as it lumbered to its clawed feet. The beast swayed then stepped forward, its hideous maw closing in on Natalie just as Evvan reached them.

With all the rage and fury in his heart and soul, Evvan buried his sword deep into the dragon’s chest.

The beast screamed and blood spouted from its chest in a black fountain.

Evvan yanked out his sword and thrust it into the dragon’s heart again. And yet again.

Natalie stared at her lover, wide-eyed with fear and amazement as he fought the dragon. It screamed one more time and then its head dropped to the cold ground, the sound like a burst of thunder. The orange glow in its remaining eye faded until it went totally black.

The Sorcerer’s magical hold on Nat vanished. With relief and triumph roaring through her veins, she scrambled to her feet and started to run toward Evvan when she saw something glittering near the dragon.

She reached down to pick it up, unable to believe her eyes. But as it glittered in her palm, she knew it was real. Her mother’s star pendant. The one she’d lost all those years ago.

All this time it had been in the Sorcerer’s possession. Likely it had been trapped with Voral in the alternate reality—or sorcery-made prison thingamajig—where he’d been banished these many years until his recent escape.

A wailing noise filled her ears, and Natalie realized it was the sound of sirens piercing the night. She started toward Evvan and then came to a dead stop a couple of feet from him. Sirens. She was in New York. Home.

“You must come, now!” Anistana’s voice rang from the opening of the black tunnel. Natalie’s gaze swung from her lover to the gorgeous and naked Queen of Faerie whose blue mist swirled about her feet inside the tunnel as she added, “I cannot hold the skypath open much longer.”

Gasps and shouts rang out and Natalie realized for the first time that a large group of people had gathered around them. A shimmer caught her eye and she saw Améa rise from the ground, somewhat dazed, but alive and able to move with her own power. A rumble of fear and amazement rose from the crowd as the nude Faerie darted back to the tunnel, her wings glinting in the light.

“Come.” Evvan held out his hand to Natalie, but she hesitated and looked around her.

Her gaze took in the skyscrapers beyond the park, the place she’d lived, loved and shopped all of her life. “This is my home,” Natalie said quietly as she gestured at the city above the treetops.

Evvan’s jaw tightened and he stepped so close she caught his spicy scent and the heavy odor of testosterone, as he growled, “Your home is with me.”

Sirens cut out as the police arrived. She heard shouts, and the metallic click of weapons.

“This skypath will never be opened again.” Anistana’s voice rose above the crowd, resonant and powerful. “The choice you make tonight seals your future, child of Fae. Return to Dair with us, or remain in this world. Forever.”

When his mate hesitated, Evvan almost howled his frustration. Just as he was going to grab the wench and throw her over his shoulder, a grin broke across her face. She flung herself into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and said, “Take me home, big guy.”

Such relief and joy, unlike anything he had ever known, filled him. A strange sensation overcame the fierce Devline Enforcer, and he smiled at his l’tiani.

“Oh, my god.” Natalie looked so stunned that he feared she might faint. “You smiled!”

“You give me reason to, my little one,” he murmured and claimed her lips in a fierce and passionate kiss.

In the background he heard strange shouts, all words he did not understand.

Natalie ripped her mouth from his. “We’d better get out of here,” she said, her voice urgent. “These people think this is a movie set or something, but those cops—er, non-Devline Enforcers—don’t. They’re going to want to arrest us.”

Evvan turned his fierce expression on the crowd and growled before bolting the few feet toward the skypath, holding his l’tiani tight to his chest.

“Make haste!” Anistana ordered even as they rushed toward her. “These barbarians have a ruthless look about them,” she said when they reached the skypath and Evvan stopped beside her, several feet inside the entrance and in the middle of her blue mist.