Sword of the Raven (34 page)

Her throaty hum vibrated against his chest. “You
are
feeling better.”

“Shall I show you how much?” He nipped a teasing path down her neck to her breast, swiped his tongue across a pebbled nipple.

Arching, she moaned. “I’d love to, however—”

“Aye, I ken. A wee bit of wishful thinking, lass.” The war business was a giant pain in the arse. He sighed again. Kissed her belly before pushing himself to his feet. “We need to be going. Although your wards muted our Power clash, such a tremendous surge won’t go unmissed.” He offered his hand. When she placed her fingers in his, he tugged her upright.

Delaney picked up the cloak and passed it to him. “Here, improv something to wear.” She strapped on her thigh holster, then pointed to the dagger within. “Use this to cut it up if necessary.”

As she combed unsteady fingers through her jumbled tresses, the sight of her limber, alabaster beauty, naked except for necklace, dagger and boots, smote him.

“Rowan?”

He blinked. “Eh…nay, lass. The cloak is enchanted to conceal you. I won’t be taking it from you. And certainly will not be cutting it to bits.”

Delaney shook her head. “Take it and do whatever you need to. You can’t roam around exposed. I’ve seen things happen to other captives while I’ve been here. Horrible things. There are monsters who want…” She cleared the quiver from her voice. “But I don’t have to tell you that.”

During their lovemaking, he’d been inside her head and heart and soul when she’d been inside his. She’d seen the horror of what had nearly happened before she’d rescued him. And he’d felt the terror and desperation she’d experienced in the past month but refused to show.

She donned her feathered dress, and he arranged the borrowed cloak into a loose, makeshift kilt that draped one shoulder and wrapped his waist like the ancient Highland plaids. While he admired Delaney’s gutsiness, sooner or later, she’d need to lance the recent feelings she’d squelched, or they’d ambush her.

He should know.

He glanced over to see her—regrettably—dressed. “You got your necklace back. The ravens brought it, did they?”

“Yes.”

“I might have guessed. The cheeky gits mugged me and confiscated it right after I left your flat. I thought they were returning it to Morrigan.”

“Rule Number One bites you in that gorgeous ass yet again.”

In truth, he’d been heartsick at the loss of his last link to Delaney.

Rowan followed her rapid progress through the cave, paused for her to inactivate the wards. Outside, he studied the desolate landscape. “I assume you have a plan. You take point.”

The happiness radiating from her as she spun to face him made his pulse dance.

He arched a brow. “Lass, your Power is superior in this realm, therefore, ‘tis logical for you to lead. I gave my word. I will only offer protection when you need it…”

Yanking her into his arms, he tugged her thigh dagger from its holster and threw it dead-center into the throat of the demon who’d charged over the hill at her back.

Then Rowan pivoted out of her way as she brandished
her
sword and flung the blade end-over-end to impale the demon who’d simultaneously charged
his
back.

He grinned “…and I will step aside when you do not.”

They separated briefly to behead each of the fallen demons, then re-met on middle ground. Rowan frowned. “Did you see the insignia on their armor? Fomorian, lead scouts for Balor’s army. He’s hunting the source of the Power blast.”

“Yeah. Time to leave.”

As they broke into a jog through the deep ash, the ground behind them began to shake with hundreds of thumping footsteps.

Rowan grabbed Delaney’s hand. “Run, lass!”

Their jog sped into a sprint. After they’d gained a sizeable lead on the platoon, Delaney pulled ahead and tugged him toward the left.
This way, Rowan.

Where to?

Since I arrived in the Abyss, I can sense Power signatures, even when they’re not in use. And I can tell if it’s bad or good. I’m tracking one...a biggie. Not Dark.

How do you sense dormant Powers? No Supernaturals can—
He shook his head.
Carry on, then.

I’m also attempting to contact Morrigan. I hope she can hear me.

I hope so too.
Rowan didn’t dare think about what would happen if Balor got his filthy claws on Delaney.

Hands linked, they shared Power as they plowed up a steep hill, then skidded down the rocky slope, boosting each other without reducing either’s energy—something else that supposedly couldn’t happen.

After conquering an increasingly larger trio of hills, they skirted a skeletal copse of blackened trees. Behind the trees huddled a desolate cluster of immense standing stones. Its scorched boulders were gouged and askew, but the circle intact.

“Inside,” Delaney ordered.

Rowan hit the perimeter a few steps ahead—and slammed into invisible wards guarding the ancient stones. The impenetrable wall sizzled and snapped, shooting garnet fire. “Ow.
Bugger.”
He hadn’t sensed the wards. If he hadn’t been holding Delaney’s hand, he’d have been fried like a mosquito in a bug-zapper.

Delaney flung out her other hand and shoved the force-field inward, stretching it until it finally popped. They burst through into the center. Panting, she gestured to Celtic symbols carved on each battered megalith. Similar symbols adorned her crown and sword. “Morrigan’s, right?”

“Aye.”

“I think the sacred circle will blockade the demons, at least temporarily.”

“But you don’t know for certain. And Balor is no ordinary demon.”

“No.” She walked the inner ring, her index finger tracing each of the etched runes. “Morrigan,” she called.

Silence.

“Hey, Morrigan! We could use a little help here!”

His brow furrowed. “Saints preserve us, luv, she’s the sodding
goddess of prophecy and war.
And
not
famous for her serene disposition. A wee bit of caution is warranted.”

Aye, my child.
A melodic, disembodied female voice rich with a lyrical Irish accent echoed inside his head at the same time he heard it speak inside Delaney’s.
You would do well to listen to the Mage. He imparts wisdom.

Delaney lifted her finger from the final stone. “Don’t encourage him.”

The air shimmered, and then a gigantic raven swooped overhead, banked, and landed in front of them.

Rowan genuflected. “M’lady.”

The raven regally acknowledged him.
You may rise, Enforcer.

Morrigan looked at Delaney and amused affection glinted in her midnight eyes.
Daughter of my daughter, we meet once more.

“Yeah, you sort of failed to mention a few significant branches of the family tree at our meet-and-greet when I landed here to look for Rowan. Do you have an answer for me?”

As you beseeched upon your arrival, I have brought your petition before the Creator.

Whoa! What?
Rowan started. Delaney had obviously been more inventive—and ballsy—than he realized.

His lass swallowed hard. “And…?”

I have served faithfully many centuries, protecting and shepherding slain warriors on their journey to the Otherworld…and asked for naught. And you have dedicated yourselves to fight for the Light.
Morrigan paused.
Therefore, the Creator will grant my plea on your behalf and restore your Mage to earth.

“Oh!” Delaney’s hands flew to her mouth. “Morrigan, thank you!”

The blood drained from Rowan’s head.
He could go back? Be with her?

He staggered. Delaney grabbed him, and they supported each other. When she gazed up at him, moisture sheened the clear cerulean pools.

Rumbling sounded in the distance, the stones around them vibrating beneath the advancing army.

Delaney bit her lip. “The welcome wagon, just in time for the good news. We’d better book out. Fast.”

Not yet,
Morrigan warned.
First, two conditions must be agreed upon.

He should’ve known. Fate gave nothing for free.

“What are they?” Delaney asked.

Delaney, you are forbidden to reenter the Abyss. Ever.
The raven indicated the gaping hole in Delaney’s
Aillidh,
now more than doubled, and slowly growing larger.
Your essence will not survive another trip. Your brother has his own path to walk. You may not return to retrieve him. May not return for any cause.

Delaney pressed trembling lips together. She glanced at Rowan. Inhaled a shaky breath. “Al— all r-right. I…I— agree.”

Enforcer.
Morrigan focused intently on him.
Rebirth is almost never bestowed. ‘Tis not given lightly, nor without consequence. Balance must always be maintained within the universe. Therefore, if you are restored, your actions immediately prior to death will be reversed.

Sick, greasy dread writhed in his gut. “You’re saying Ceard will… The murderer who massacred my family—my entire
Clan…
The bleeding psycho who’s tortured hundreds without mercy… Will also get to
fecking live?”

Aye.
Fury glinted in Morrigan’s eyes.
The Sorceress’ body was not beheaded. ‘Tis being guarded by Manannán Mac Lir, the sea god, yet another of her former lovers. He has petitioned for her. If you are granted a second chance at life, so shall she.

The rumbling grew closer, louder, and a boiling ash cloud darkened the sky.

Jaw so tight it might have been set in concrete, Rowan couldn’t meet Delaney’s anguished gaze. “If I reject the offer, if I remain here and fight, Delaney can still go home? And Ceard stays dead?”

Aye.
Morrigan nodded again.
However, you need to be making your decision. Quickly.

Balor’s troops crested the hilltop, marching irrevocably forward.

“If Rowan stays, I stay,” Delaney said. “I’m
not
abandoning him.”

We are grieved we must part you, daughter of my daughter. But the Creator has decreed you must return, and complete your destiny.

Shouts broke out as Balor’s troops scouts spied the circle. Horns blared, breaking the demon ranks into a headlong charge.

“No way,”
Delaney insisted. “I
refuse.
I won’t leave him.”

We wish not to cause you this sorrow. Alas, you bear my Gifts of prophecy and war for the battles to come
. Slaighre a’ Teathra
has a greater purpose, as yet unfulfilled.

The forward squadron of Fomorians attacked, surrounding the stone circle. Swords hissed from scabbards, hacked at the sparking wards.

The raven swept a massive black wing, making Delaney vanish.

Your lass is safely home, MacLachlan
, Morrigan assured him.
We are out of time. Either I send you back to earth, or you fly with me to my fortress in the Abyss.

His sword hand flexed as Balor’s huge spiked silhouette loomed on the horizon. Torn between duty and devotion, Rowan hesitated.

Enforcer, I cannot hold the circle against the Demon Lord’s assault for long. Stay or go?

Morrigan stepped closer.
Choose. Now. Justice…or love?

Chapter 22

Delaney hurtled into consciousness sprawled flat on her back, lungs heaving painfully. She blinked. The lighthouse towered over her like a protective guardian angel, cloaked in predawn clouds blushed pink and lavender.

“Rowan?” she called softly. “Are you here?”

No reply.

She swept her arms out. Felt nothing but cold, gritty sand. “Rowan?”

Only the roar of the ocean answered.

She struggled to sit up. She was dressed in the same jeans and fisherman’s knit sweater she’d worn when she’d jumped into the Abyss. Her gaze darted over windswept dunes, shot to churning gray-green breakers laced with creamy foam.

Empty.

He might have landed farther down the beach. She clambered to her feet, stumbled to the water’s edge to scan the rocky coastline.

Enforcer, can you hear me?

Her pulse staggered tauntingly in her ears.

Empty for miles, the deserted seascape blurred. She gulped down the aching lump in her throat.

He hadn’t returned with her.

Delaney sank onto the wet sand. Pulling her legs up, she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her forehead on them. Icy waves slapped her skin as scalding moisture stung her eyes.

Her Mage had chosen justice.

She struggled to breathe through the knot in her chest. She could not,
would not,
blame him. Ceard had butchered everyone he loved, had annihilated his entire world—and he felt responsible. He’d pay any price to secure her death.

Rowan’s unfailing loyalty to his family was one of the things Delaney admired most about him.

But, oh God, it
hurt.

Seeking solace, she retreated deep inside, reached out for their link. She slammed into a wall of static.

She no longer shared his Power, or his memories.

Despair hollowed her to the core. She’d have abdicated goddess status, surrendered her Powers, relinquished
everything
to be with him. But he’d made his decision. She would choose to respect it.

She almost wished Ceard
was
alive, just so she could have the satisfaction of drowning her all over again. This time, she’d be sure to separate her evil head from her neck. The Sorceress had not only destroyed Rowan’s life, but Delaney’s as well.

Delaney had nothing left…except war and loneliness.

As if attempting comfort, sunbeams stretched over the horizon and caressed the top of her head with warmth. The breakers surrounding her heated, murmuring soothingly along her trembling body. Perhaps she
had
retained a vestige of Rowan’s Powers.

Sudden awareness tingled over her skin, sang fiercely in her blood. The muted skirl of bagpipes vibrated from the ocean’s depths. Her gaze shot to the horizon.

And she saw Rowan.

Haloed by the misty dawn, he strode toward her through the dancing waves, magnificent in all his naked glory.

She shoved to her feet. Heart pounding, she managed one faltering step. Another.

He smiled. Opened his arms.

Happiness rocketed through her. Delaney splashed through the sparkling water to fling herself into his embrace. Laughing, Rowan swooped her up and spun her in circles.

When he finally set her down knee-deep in the tide, the world kept spinning…with his beloved face in the center. “Rowan MacLachlan,” she whispered. She reached up and touched his cheek, warm and bristled—and real. “I thought you were dead.”

Then she burst into tears.

“Hey, now. I’m here.” A tremor quaked through his solid, muscled body as he hugged her tight. “Thanks to a certain stubborn wench.”

Rowan’s tender voice, his familiar touch, wracked her with another storm of sobs. He rubbed her back. “All right. ‘Tis all right.” Like before, a cocoon of temperate air enveloped them. “Go ahead and have a good cry, then.”

“I—I d-don’t c-cry. Often.”

“Of course you don’t, my brave, bonny, warrior goddess.”

“I’m g-getting you all w-wet.”

More chuckles rumbled in his chest. “Not to worry.” Big, sure hands cupped her head and those long fingers slid into her hair. His thumbs circled her temples, languidly stroked her face, her jaw. “My starkers suit is drip-dry.”

A giggle vanquished her sobs. “A perk of the job.”

“However…” He drew her closer and kissed the moisture from her eyelids, her cheekbones. Captured her mouth to sip and seduce. His whiskers grazed her cheek, then insistent lips nibbled her earlobe, making shivers rain down her spine. “In the spirit of fair play…” he whispered huskily into her ear. “How about if I get
you
all wet?”

Every nerve-ending hummed with anticipation. “That’s not hard, MacLachlan.”

A glossy brow cocked. “Eh, luv, you’d best be having your vision checked.”

Her glance followed the treasure trail of fine hair down his stomach. Her own stomach flip-flopped. Her nipples beaded and damp heat ached between her thighs.
Goal accomplished, Enforcer.

Not quite.
His white, wicked grin flashed. Walking her backward into the shallows, he tugged her sweater over her head. Her bra followed. He tumbled her into the surf, and in seconds had her stripped bare.

“Mo chridhe.”
Rowan rose over her, his beautiful eyes glowing jade fire. “I love you, Delaney.”

Her heart stopped. Then resumed beating, fast and shaky. She’d known, when he’d opened himself to her in the Abyss. But finally feeling him safe and solid in her arms, hearing him speak the words…
“Oh…”
she quavered. A haze glistened her vision.

“Don’t cry.” He kissed her. “I didn’t mean to make you cry again.”

“I was afraid you… I thought you’d chosen to stay in the Abyss. To keep Ceard dead.”

“I had a moment—” Rowan swallowed. “A wee moment, when I might have done so.” Another swallow. “But I could not desert you to fight the war alone. Besides, Ceard will be livid when she wakes up with Manannán Mac Lir. He won’t so easily let her go a second time. And without her, Balor is vastly weakened.” His smile turned dangerous. “If she does somehow manage to escape her watery prison…well...we killed Psycho Bitch once, we can do it again.”

Delaney shuddered. She’d edged too close to losing him forever. “I’m not casting blame. I’d have deferred to your decision to stay. Ceard murdered everyone you cared about.”

“Aye, and I was dead inside as well. Until
you.
You brought me alive. You gave me back my life.” Reverent fingertips traced her features. “Duty, honor, wars, my victories and defeats…every loss and personal sacrifice…not a single one means anything unless I have you to share them. I defeat her and everything she stands for by coming home alive to the woman I love.”

“I—” she choked. “I— I love you too. More than I ever thought possible.”

He kissed her, long and slow and deep, and she gave herself up to him. To the love and trust and desire that shimmered between them, brighter than the radiant sunrise.

Mingled breaths, languid touches. Tender caresses, soul-satisfying kisses…given and received.

Rowan’s hands cradled Delaney’s face, his gaze held hers while he slowly entered her. Filling her as she fulfilled him, healing every hurt, irrevocably shattering the last lingering chains of the past—for both of them.

He froze, his rugged features tight with pleasure. Then he groaned. “Marry me.”

All the oxygen vanished from the atmosphere. She gasped.
“What?”

“Marry, me, Delaney. Come with me to Scotland to become my mate in the ancient Mage ritual. Join with me for eternity.” He sucked in a trembling breath. His big, strong warrior’s body was trembling all over. “Fight at my side, always. Halve my sorrows and double my joys, forever. Allow me to drown myself in your essence until the day I draw my final breath on this earth…and then carry our love together into what lies beyond. Forever.”

Dazzling elation exploded inside her. “Yes! Yes!
Aye,
Rowan MacLachlan, I
will!”

Chuckling, he began to move inside her.

Then neither was capable of speech for a very long time.

Afterward, sated and happy to the point of rapture, Delaney opened her eyes to see her Mage propped on one elbow, watching her. She smiled woozily. “Hi.”

He gave her an answering grin. “I am, that. On you.”

“Rowan…” She studied him, then raised her arm to examine it. “Look!”
Both
their auras gleamed luminescent with radiant beams of green, silver, and gold. Though their bodies were no longer joined, she still felt united with him. Delaney experimentally turned her face to dip it into the rising tide. She whipped her gaze back to his. “I can breathe underwater!”

“And I feel the emotion and strength of your Powers enhancing mine.” His eyes widened in shock.
“Bloody hell!
Somehow our essences have permanently co-mingled!”

“Maybe because we’re officially engaged now?”

“Nay. I’ve
never
heard of it happening. ‘Tis not supposed to happen.”

The necklace at her throat warmed, quickly grew superheated. “Ouch! What’s going on with my charm? It’s hot!”

He lifted it from her skin. “The garnets have become living flames!” He closed his eyes. Swayed.

“Rowan?” Delaney covered his hand with hers. A vision swam into her mind. A dark-haired kilted warrior pacing like a tiger trapped inside a cage, his raging breaths pluming out white in the frigid air.

“Braden,” Rowan whispered hoarsely.

The man jerked his head up and stared out between frosted steel bars as if he could see them, savage fury blazing in hot topaz eyes.

The necklace cooled, the vision disappeared.

“Braden is alive!” Delaney squeezed Rowan’s hand. “And if he is, then the others must be, too. We’ll find him. We’ll find them all. I think the new, mutually expanded Powers are a Gift from Morrigan. To help us track your cousins. And fight the war.”

“Goddesses don’t share— It’s not poss—” He shook his head. “Nay, I’m not ever going to be saying that again.”

Waves of joyous laughter vibrated from him into her as he gathered her into his embrace. “With you, lass,
everything
is possible.”