Steam (23 page)

She unleashed her anger, letting the hot rage rush through her. Her magic responded to her passion and she focused the energy on the raindrops Sloan created. Instead of summoning fire, she concentrated on the water itself, lowering the temperature of the liquid. Sloan hummed his approval and manipulated the shape of the quickly freezing drops into daggers. He flung them at the offending witches and she smiled darkly when she heard a cry of pain. Apparently, Sloan had really good aim.

The ice daggers slowed down the attacks but didn’t stop them. A tree branch crashed through their shield and just about took her head off. Wolves were hurling themselves at the wall of rushing water, sometimes succeeding in breaking through for a few seconds before Sunny was able to shoot a fireball at them.

She lost her temper again when a wolf broke through and nearly managed to close his jaws on the man she loved. Splitting her concentration in half, she continued to freeze the drops of rain even as she superheated the water shield so the water boiled as it fell.

Her efforts helped with the wolves but didn’t do anything against the debris the Takahashi handler kept hurling at them. “Where the hell is everyone?” she screamed.

Sloan squinted through the steamy water shield. “There’s some kind of attack from behind,” he said.

She strained her eyes, trying to see through both the water and the crowd of witches and wolves. Now that she knew the key to controlling her magic, she didn’t have a problem continuing to hold her attack. “I can hardly see them,” she cried over the din. “Why wouldn’t Anna help us fry these suckers?”

Sloan’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure. But we need to hold them off until then.”

Another chunk of metal came flying through the shield. It missed Sloan’s leg by a scant inch. “That’s it,” she screamed. She let her magic take over, giving it free rein.

What happened shocked even her.

Fire shot out of the shield, attaching itself to the falling rain. Instead of turning the water into steam, it turned the drops into flames.

It was raining fire.

“Holy shit,” Sloan screamed over the noise.

With another shift in focus, she was able to hold the fiery rain, as well as continue to hold the temperature of the shield and draw out the heat from certain drops so they were still able to use the ice daggers.

The immense amount of energy it took to hold all three took its toll though, and she felt her energy starting to flag. “I don’t know how much longer I can handle this,” she said to Sloan.

“I don’t think you’ll have to,” Sloan shouted. “It looks like they’re retreating. They’re still being attacked from behind.”

Sloan’s last words were said a little roughly, almost as if he didn’t like what was happening. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I’m pretty sure they’re being attacked by hunters. I guess it was too much to hope they wouldn’t be alerted by the commotion.”

Well, so much for hoping they were in the clear. “Do you think if we stop now, we can slip out in the commotion?”

Sloan shook his head. “No. The water shield is pretty obvious. If we drop it, it will be noticed and if the Takahashis don’t attack us again, the hunters will.”

Her energy was draining rapidly, and with it, her ability to keep the three different strands of her magic powered. She’d never run into a problem where she’d drained her magic but, then again, she’d never pushed it this hard before. Her knees buckled and she sank to the ground. The raining fire and ice daggers disappeared and the water rushing around them went from boiling to lukewarm. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Sloan took over the defense, letting the shield fall since it was doing nothing to keep out the arrows and bullets the hunters were shooting at them.

She watched, dazed and exhausted, as he started sweeping hunters away with jets of water. The Takahashis and their allies were in full retreat, taking their dead and injured with them. She struggled to her feet and started summoning as many small balls of fire as she could. She couldn’t send them far, but at least if one of the hunters got too close, she could do
something
instead of just sitting there.

There were too many hunters, though, and as hard as they tried, they weren’t able to keep all of them away.

Finally, a familiar car came into view. Raven, Anna and Leith jumped out.

The arrival of their saviors caught her attention and was the distraction the hunters needed, and a horrible pain in her stomach had her doubling over. She clutched at her abdomen, her hands closing around an arrow.

Sunny fell again, only barely managing to roll onto her back instead of driving the arrow deeper into her gut.

The last thing she saw before passing out was the look of horror on Sloan’s face.

*

Sloan’s heart stopped when the hunter shot Sunny in the stomach with her crossbow. A rage like he’d never experienced trampled through him. A giant wave, bigger than anything he’d ever summoned, formed, totally without his consent. It crashed over the hunters, sweeping them away and completely out of sight. He had enough control over the wave to make sure it parted around Raven, Anna and Leith, but he’d probably drowned the hunters. And he didn’t care.

He dropped to his knees next to Sunny and seized her hand. “Sunny?” he choked out. “Sweetheart?”

Her eyes seemed larger than ever in her pale face. She blinked up at him, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t even seem to be aware of her surroundings.

He pressed his lips to her knuckles. He couldn’t lose her. But there was nothing he could do for her at the moment. “Raven,” he screamed, knowing his leader was on his way. “Raven! Sunny’s been hurt.”

“On it,” Raven called back, running at full speed toward them.

Sloan could see Leith pulling out his phone and pressing it to his ear. Anna started prowling around, falling back into their training from years ago and making sure they were covered in case of another attack.

He resisted the urge to gather Sunny up in his arms for fear of doing her further damage. He clutched her hand tighter and held it to his heart. “Sunny, don’t leave me. Please, baby, I’m begging you. Fight, sweetheart.”

Her eyes started to glaze over and her breathing began to slow. “No,” he screamed, squeezing her hand. “Don’t let go. I need you.”

It didn’t matter how hard he pleaded with her. Her breathing continued to slow and became shallower with each inhale. Desperate, Sloan sent his magic out, looking for hers. It was there, faint and dim, but it was there. He tugged on her magic, drawing it up and strengthening it with his. “Sunny Kerrigan,” he said firmly. “You are going to live. I love you, and I can’t live through the death of my soul mate. So, hold it together.”

Raven came skidding to a stop next to him and dropped to his knees. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered. The leader’s hands hovered over her stomach, but he didn’t actually touch her. “Hold on, Sunny. The paramedics are on their way.” Sure enough, sirens were floating on the air, their shrill sound reassuring.

Sloan ignored the man and focused his full attention on the woman bleeding on the road. She was blinking at him again, only this time he could see the question on her face. “Sunny,” he said, just to make sure she knew he was talking to and about her. “Dara will always have a place in my heart. But I love you.
You
. I never thought I’d be able to love someone as passionately as I love you. You dragged me back into the land of the living. If you die…well, Raven will have to kill me because I’ll go on a rampage without you.”

Talk about putting pressure on someone. He didn’t say anything else. He held her hand, terrified that if he let go, she would float away from him.

The paramedics finally pulled up and jumped out of the ambulance. He could hear what they were saying, but he didn’t understand a single word. All he knew was that someone was trying to pull him away from his Sunny.

He fought tooth and nail to stay with her, but strong arms wrapped around him from behind. “Let them work, lad,” Leith said lowly.

Sloan stopped fighting, but Leith didn’t remove his arms, for which Sloan was grateful. “Damn hunters,” he spat.

“Hunters did this?” one of the paramedics asked while they were securing Sunny to the stretcher.

“Aye,” Leith said. “We’ve had a group of them using strange weapons to hunt rabbits late at night.”

The paramedic frowned. “Have you reported this to the police? It looks like they did more than just hunt,” he said, looking around at the destruction.

Raven shook his head. “No. We didn’t really know who to contact.”

Why were these daft paramedics questioning who shot Sunny? Their job was to take her to the hospital, and keep her alive on the way. Luckily for them, they started loading her into the ambulance before he could unleash his tongue. Raven turned to them. “I’ll ride with Sunny. Leith, you bring Sloan and Anna.”

Sloan knew there was no use arguing. As rich and powerful as Raven was, as well as the fact that he made very regular, very generous donations to the hospital, meant that the man had a lot of influence. The hospital would probably bend over backward to try and please him.

Anna rushed over with the car keys in hand. “Luckily you didn’t wash Raven’s car away. Are you okay?” she asked, inspecting him critically for injury.

He couldn’t keep it in anymore. His eyes filled with tears, and he didn’t even attempt to hide them. They fell down his face unchecked. “She can’t die,” he whispered.

Leith turned him around and cupped the back of his head. Sloan found himself with his face suddenly smashed into the bigger man’s chest. He was stunned. In all the time he’d known Leith, the man had never offered anyone such comfort. Not even after Dara’s death, had he offered more than a small smile. And here he was, obviously aware of how much he loved Sunny, and literally offering Sloan a shoulder to cry on.

His body gave in, and he let his friend bear most of his weight as he sobbed.

It had been a long, hard road to recovery for Sunny. When she’d first woken up in the hospital room, she thought someone had died. All the occupants of MacAlister Castle had gathered in her room and looked as if they were at a funeral.

She’d lost a kidney and her spleen to the hunter’s arrow and had been in a considerable amount of pain for weeks. Even now, six months later, her wound still tugged and twinged occasionally.

But she and Sloan were both alive, and that’s all that mattered.

Sloan had brought her home three weeks after the attack, and had been waiting on hand and foot ever since then.

She lay still, savoring the heavy warmth of the blankets. Winter had hit Scotland hard, and it was damn cold, even to her Canadian blood.

The sound of birds filled the airy room and a puddle of sunlight splashed over Sunny’s face. She groaned and rolled over, burying her face into the pillow. “Too early,” she complained. Why had they left the curtains open last night? Oh, right. They’d been too hot for each other to bother worrying about them.

Reaching out one arm, Sunny searched for the warm body that was usually sprawled out next to her. She frowned when she failed to find him. Muttering grumpily, she turned her head and cracked one eye open.

Sloan was nowhere in sight. But if the sound of running water, and the deep voice singing cheerily from the bathroom were any indication, Sloan was in the shower.

She pouted at the fact she didn’t wake up in Sloan’s arms.

But Sloan in the shower was a pretty good compromise. A naked, wet, and happy Sloan, if the tune he was singing was any indication, was always a good thing. Add that to the fact he could do some pretty awesome things with the water in the shower, and she was in for a good time.

With that thought in mind, Sunny bounced out of bed and sauntered over to the bathroom. The steam hung thick in the air when she walked in. Sloan had switched to whistling, and she shook her head. He whistled “Yankee Doodle,” something he’d taken to doing when she insisted on some good, old-fashioned American food when she’d been in the hospital.

She smiled at the memory. She had been cranky, in pain, and completely sick of hospital food. She’d demanded a burger, fries, and chocolate shake. He’d been happy to run out and get her what she wanted, but she’d insisted on the meal coming from McDonald’s. There was exactly one McDonald’s in the immediate area, about twenty minutes’ drive from the hospital. She’d really enjoyed that meal though.

“Are you coming or what?” Sloan called from the shower.

“Yeah, yeah,” she answered. She slipped into the stall with him and shut the door again, enclosing them in the steamy air. “Hi.”

Sloan flashed a bright grin and smoothed her hair back from her face. “You were drooling on my shoulder this morning,” he teased.

Still slightly grumpy because she hadn’t woken up to some lazy morning loving, she stuck her tongue out at him, but didn’t stop him when his soapy hands slid down her belly. He paused when he got to the scar, his hands hovering over it protectively.

When she’d first seen the scar, she’d been horrified. It was huge and ugly and had made her cry every time she looked at it. But Sloan had soothed her ruffled feathers. He’d been insistent that the scar wasn’t ugly. It was only a reminder of how hard she’d fought to stay alive, and he said he found it sexy.

He’d proved his words over and over. There hadn’t been a day since she’d come home that he hadn’t worshiped the spot with his lips. And today was no exception. He dropped to his knees and kissed her stomach gently.

She twined his wet hair around her fingers and shivered when he trailed his lips over her sensitive hipbone. “Sloan,” she moaned when he stayed where he was, just teasing.

“Don’t worry, babe. We’ll get there.”

“But when?” she whined.

Sloan pushed himself to his feet and loomed over her. “My baby doesn’t feel like waiting today?”

She shook her head and wrapped one leg around his thigh, grinding her pussy against his hard muscles. Some days, she loved foreplay. And the good lord knew, Sloan was a master at foreplay.

But there were other days, like today, where she wanted it hard and fast.