Storm Of Magick Part 10

Ronan sat next to me on the bed. I noticed the indifferent look on his face. He was hiding something. His black leather pants clung to his legs and smelled wonderful. I could see his muscles as he moved. He wore a black Robin Hood s.h.i.+rt with a black crisscross tie at the neck. It was gathered at the waist by a black rope belt. Soft, black suede pirate boots completed the outfit. All the black made his skin even paler, but the contrast made his violet eyes jumped out. The longer I was around him, the more I was attracted to him. I had just chalked it up to our magickal link but now I was afraid it was a lot more complicated.

"You went into a coma..." he started."Then things started going terribly wrong." His voice didn't match the words coming out of his mouth. His face was beautiful, perfect even, but it wasn't the same face he had all those years ago in my dream.

"You almost died, Logan," Paris added.

He stood behind Ronan, his greenish-gray eyes guilty. Paris's shoulder length light brown hair was combed straight back over his head, and light caught the blond highlights as he moved. With his natural tan skin, high cheekbones and perfect mouth, it was hard not to stare at him. He wore a black cotton t-s.h.i.+rt and black jeans. I couldn't see his shoes. I guess I was out long enough for everyone to change clothes.

"What did you do?" I asked, looking at all the men. I saw Rafe, in human form and impressively bruise-free. He and Caleb were standing at the end of the bed and didn't say a word. I prepared myself for whatever I was about to hear.

"We all are magickally linked to you through a Life Spell. Until your spirit regenerates, you are bound to us. You are magickally receiving a little of all of our essence... for lack of a better word," Ronan explained, with nothing on his face. He deserved an award for that performance.

I stilled myself and focused, then I said a spell silently to myself and I could see fine gold threads between us all. The thread was as taut as a guitar string and felt like having b.u.t.terflies in my stomach. There was even a thread between me and Alex, which I wasn't happy about. Did everyone forget what Alex tried to do?

I sat there, looking at every face that looked back at me, and a wave of rage burned throughout my body. I didn't want to be laying here. I didn't want to look weak. I wanted to get up, scream, and more than anything, throw things. My eyes fixed on Alex as he entered the room.

He stopped in mid stride just staring at me. "Oh s.h.i.+t, you told her!" he said, looking like a deer caught in headlights. I wasn't sure but I think his voice was higher pitched.

"Okay, which one of you made this decision?"

"This was a last resort," Ronan said. "I for one was reluctant to perform the ritual. But to blame only one for the outcome would be pointless."

"I didn't ask for this, Ronan. I'm already linked to all of the men and twice to you. I can't even tell the difference between our powers!" I yelled. "What does this do to my control or to their control?" I said pointing to Caleb and Alex. "How long will the regeneration take?" I was very disgusted with the whole situation.

"I do not have the answers to your questions. The only thing that can be done is being done. Ailin is in the library as we speak. There is always trial and error with magick. You know that," Ronan said calmly.

With that said, Caleb quickly retreated to the library. Unmistakably, he knew s.h.i.+t was about to hit the fan and he was getting out of the way before it did. I threw back the covers and tried to get up. Ronan put his hands on my shoulders to keep me in bed.

"I'm no one's guinea pig, Ronan! I don't want any trial and error s.h.i.+t done to me again! Now, leave me the h.e.l.l alone or we will see just how good my control really is. You can take your research and stick it up your a.s.s. Paris, help me get up!" I said all in one breathe.

"Not until Doc checks you out," Paris answered.

I didn't have time for this. Sam was in a coma and there was still a murderer on the loose. "If you want me to lie here much longer, you better get his a.s.s in here," I said, getting more irritated with every word. "Paris, please update me on Sam's condition."

"The doctor says that he's not sure if she'll wake up or what kind of condition she'll be in if she does," Paris said carefully.

"Any word from Doyle? Have any more women been found?" I asked. When in doubt or things are totally crazy stick to business.

While I was brought up to speed about the murders and Sam, Rafe went to get Doc. Before I decided to make a break for it, I wanted to talk to Ronan privately about my dream or whatever it was, but that would probably have to wait.

"It's been thirty-six hours since the last murder. And there hasn't been any word from Doyle," Paris said.

Rafe and Doc walked through the door. Doc carried a beat up old brown leather case to examine me. Again, the comforting smell of pipe tobacco followed him.

"Okay, all of you have to leave the room while I examine Logan," Doc said in his slight southern drawl. Each man filed out grudgingly but Doc was adamant about all of them leaving. He proceeded to get things out of the bag and lay them on the bed. "Can you lean up, Logan?"

"Sure. How's Rafe?" I asked.

"When he was finally able to s.h.i.+ft, his wounds healed. He'll be fine. Let's focus on you," Doc answered.

I leaned myself up, not really noticing how I felt. I was too p.i.s.sed off for that. Doc checked my heart, breathing, and vital signs. He went on to ask me a couple of questions about my vision, hearing, stuff like that.

"Well, Logan, you're not in top condition but you have my stamp of approval. But please try to take it easy if you can." The look on his face said he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Thanks Doc," I said with a small smile.

Chapter 13.

He gathered up his things, gave me a tired smile, and left. I threw back the comforter and sat there with my legs dangling off the side of the bed. Slowly I got out of bed and stood. I wanted to make sure my a.s.s didn't hit the floor. My body was stiff and sore, but it wasn't bad enough to keep me in bed. My head swam a little but it pa.s.sed quickly. I had on someone's black t-s.h.i.+rt. It reached my knees. At least I hadn't been naked while the men did their d.a.m.n spell.

I walked to the closet and opened the double wood doors. The smell of cedar welcomed me. I grabbed a pair of black jeans, a black midriff sweater and flat black boots. My mood was cold and distant; black definitely expressed my feelings loud and clear. I was p.i.s.sed and I wanted to stay in the zone. No deterrents.

I picked up my Ruger from the nightstand and went to the bathroom. I turned on the lights and closed the door. I needed a shower. It seemed to be the best place for me to think and it was quiet.

I opened the shower door and adjusted the water to as hot as I could stand. I got out my towels, washcloth and shampoo. Floral scent was the only kind I could find. The soap was gardenias, my favorite scent. I took everything I needed and got into the shower. As I washed my hair, I could hear talking from the bedroom.

I opened the shower door and got out. I wasn't in a rush to see any of the men but we did have s.h.i.+t to discuss. I towel-dried my hair than wrapped it and grabbed the other towel, dried off and wrapped it around myself, making sure it was secure. I looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was almost as pale as Ronan's, and my ice-blue eyes looked larger than they should be. The bruises were gone and I thought my broken ribs from the accident were healed. I took the towel off my hair and ran a comb through it. I said a spell to dry my hair. It wouldn't be good if I got sick now. It only took me about three minutes to put on some make-up. So shoot me, I wanted to look nice.

I took a second look to make sure my towel was sufficiently in place. I picked up my gun and stood at the door listening. I took a deep breath, opened the door and walked out. Everyone stood around the room; the men never took their eyes off me.

I walked around the bed to my clothes. I put down my gun and stood there. I'm sure they noticed my lack of clothes and yet no one seemed to be in a rush to leave. I grabbed the black panties, put them on but left the towel in place. I'd be d.a.m.ned if anyone was going to get a show after what had happened. I sat on the bed, put on the black slouch socks, stood and turned.

"This isn't some f.u.c.king peep show, get out!" I said loudly.

"Of course, our apologies. We will leave you to dress. Please come to the living room when you are finished," Ronan said, moving towards the door.

Everyone filed out one by one. The last one out closed the door and I went back to getting dressed. First, I put on the black lace bra, and then a soft black angora sweater that barely reached to the top of my black jeans. Finally, I slipped into the soft leather boots. I threaded my thin black belt through, added the holster to the small of my back.

I grabbed my Ruger, slid out the clip and checked: two silver bullets and the rest were mercury-filled. The silver bullets were warning shots. After that, I was serious. I checked the safety. I wouldn't want to shoot my a.s.s off. It could be embarra.s.sing. I gave one last glance in the closet to find a black leather trench. I took it off the hanger and put it on, adjusted it and looked in the mirror. What I saw looking back was pure hunter.

It was time to get this little meeting underway. I had everything I needed, including my cell phone. I walked down the corridor to the living room and saw no one. I entered the room and the men just stared at me.

I could feel a mixture of magick and l.u.s.t dancing along my skin and making my heart speed up, but this time I thought the looks were for a very different reason. The only one who seemed to be missing was Ailin, who I'm sure was off completing some task for Ronan or still doing research. I actually looked at all the men. Everyone wore black - it looked like a hit man convention. To my surprise, it was Rafe who came to me first, and hugged me.

"Logan, I wanted to thank you for saving my life. I'm indebted to you and when you need my help, I'll be there. No matter what," he whispered into my ear while he hugged me tight.

I wasn't sure how to respond. I didn't do it to be repaid, but I didn't say a word. I pulled away just enough to look into his black eyes, which wasn't easy because Rafe stood six foot four, and at five foot seven, it put my neck at a weird angle. The look in his eyes was so sincere, I believed him.

"If you need me again, I'll be there," I said. Somewhere over the last twenty-four hours Rafe had joined the ranks of the people I call friends.

But, the atmosphere was too friendly, and I didn't want to feel friendly. I was in a cold place. I had to stay in my hunter mode. "Okay, I want to know what the wicked witch at the warehouse wanted with Rafe. Any ideas?" I asked, clearing my throat and taking a step back.

Rafe sat down at the gla.s.s table, looking at nothing, gathering himself. "The sorceress's name is Palmira. She's over a thousand years old. In that time she has turned into something demented, a queen lycan. A lycanthrope-witch hybrid, extremely powerful," he said.

"It was decreed by the Elders Circle that a lycan should not posses any powerful magick," Ronan added. "If a lycan survived the power at all, over the years their mental stability could break down. Ultimately, they go mad. That is why creating lycans was forbidden many years ago. Now a lycanthrope has to have the permission of the Elders to practice witchcraft, as Paris knows."

Caleb walked into the room carrying a tray. On it sat a coffee cozy pot and black mugs. The room filled with the aroma of coffee. Normally I didn't drink regular coffee, I don't care for it. It was more Paris's thing, but today I wanted a mug full. You add enough sugar it's not bad. It was as if Caleb had read my mind. It made me wonder if he could, but I let it drop for now. I probably didn't want to know the answer anyways.

I grabbed a cup, adding cream and lots of sugar before taking a sip. I drank most of my steaming coffee without noticing how hot it was. The only thought on my mind was what Ronan said.

"If it's forbidden to give lycanthropes magickal power, than what I did to you guys is considered, what?" I asked, not sure if I really wanted to know the answer.

Ronan looked at the stone floor. He didn't want to look me in the eye. It was one of the few times I've seen him look truly uncomfortable. "The knowledge of what you did must never leave this room."

"And if it does?" Paris asked tension in his voice. He took a step towards Ronan.

"The Elder Circle will put a price on Logan's head and she will become the hunted," Ronan answered, looking at me. My heart sank. The longer we talked, the worse things were getting.

"So we make sure that it never leaves this room," said a chorus of male voices.

I looked at them all with unshed tears in my eyes and nodded at them. I had no words, but of course, I was going to open my big mouth.

"When and if it happens we can worry about it then," I said in an emotionless voice. "Rafe, what does Palmira want with you?" I wanted to focus on one crisis at a time.

After pouring another cup of coffee, I sat it down and began to pace. All this talk about my a.s.s being hunted wasn't helping. In fact, it was making me nervous.

"Palmira wants a baby and she needs a lycanthrope King to do that," Rafe replied. Well that just told me something I didn't want to know. By the look on his face, Rafe didn't want to think about it either.

"Why does she want a child?" Ronan asked eyes wide.

"I heard something about a ritual and regaining her full powers," Rafe answered. "They didn't tell me much, obviously."

Okay, if it's freaking out Ronan, it's not a good thing. I'm sure the dumbfounded look on my face said it all. Paris and I looked at each other in disbelief. For Palmira to gain full powers would definitely be a very bad thing. I wondered if the scrolls and knife were to be used in the ritual, and if it linked to the dead women. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

It was definitely a thought. I watched the men move around the room. Something was going on and no one was letting me in on the secret. My suspicions grew with the tension level in the room.

"Ronan, where's Ailin? Normally he would be here," I said, feeling an alien calmness was.h.i.+ng over me. "Don't use our link to sedate my anger, where is he?"

To my surprise, it wasn't Ronan who answered, but Rafe. "While you were unconscious, Palmira contacted Ronan. As Master of the City, he has a duty to keep his boundaries, his people, safe and in check. The werefoxes have a pact with the vashon, so I fall under his protection - especially for this. Since it is a negotiation over my freedom, I couldn't debate the terms. Ailin has stepped in on my behalf and the Master's as well. He has been in contact with Palmira many times..." Rafe abruptly stopped.

"Oh man, I know I'm not going to like where this is leading," I said, pacing and pointing my finger, cutting Rafe off.

"This meeting is what the vashon call Bloodshed and Magick, which means, magick or physical contact can be used, but no killing," Ronan explained.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me. If we go in and kill everyone, problem solved," I said, getting bluntly to the point.

"If we kill them without provocation it will bring someone from the Elders Circle to investigate the matter. Trust me; we do not want to have any of the Elders here. For any reason," Ronan said with a touch of alarm in his voice.

What could be so bad that Ronan would tremble at the mere thought of an Elder coming? The longer I thought about it, the more weapons I thought I needed. But, we didn't have enough weapons or manpower. A couple extra men would work. My mind raced trying to formulate a plan that included a lot more weapons.

As I thought, Ailin walked in, went straight to Ronan, and started speaking in Gaelic.

"If this has to do with all of us, speak English, d.a.m.n it," I snapped.

"As you wish, La.s.s. The terms of the Bloodshed are as follows. Rafe must be present for the Bloodshed. No gun but everything else is fair game," Ailin said in a matter of fact voice.

I definitely needed a longer blade and I knew who had one. I reached out with the link I had with Ronan to find Connor. I tasted his magick immediately. It was sweet.

Being a Master, Ronan knew where his people are nearly all of the time, so I knew where Connor was in the labyrinth of rooms and corridors at once. I headed for him. Halfway down the stone hall I realized Ronan wasn't far behind me. All I knew was I had to carry out my plan before Ronan could reach me. If he caught me before I could do what had to be done, he would try to stop me. Then there would be a fight.

I had to share my powers with just one more vashon, no matter what the consequences. He was close; I could sense him. I came to a door, threw it open without touching it and saw Connor.

Connor stands six foot five, broad shoulders and muscular. He wore black suede pants with a black silk t-s.h.i.+rt stretched tight across his chest. Black boots completed his outfit. His red wavy hair hung almost to his waist and his true green eyes looked brilliant against his pale skin.

The surge burst to the surface, manifesting into an electrostatic ball of light in my left hand. I reared back and threw the ball, hitting Connor square in the chest. The static ball left my hand tingling.

"Logan, what have you done?" Ronan yelled, tackling me to the ground, his voice echoing in the corridor.

I elbowed him in the face, trying to get away from him. I felt our powers grow. An enormous power charge grew between us, just this side of exploding. Before our magick could reach the breaking point, there was shrieking from in front and yelling behind us at the same time.

I looked at Connor. He was lying on the ground, screaming in pain. The men came sprinting down the corridor and came to a sudden stop in the doorway. I lay on my back pinned to the cold stone floor by Ronan. The look on his face was between a frenzy of anger and l.u.s.t. His eyes bled all violet, which made me wonder if my eyes had changed also.

Ronan drew close, hovering just above my lips. He said a single word that I didn't understand, and then kissed me. His lips were soft, warm and the scent of jasmine enveloped us. At that moment, something happened. I didn't feel right. At first, I fought to get away. The link between us opened. His l.u.s.t poured into me and I couldn't stop it.

Before I knew what was going on, Paris had grabbed Ronan off me and punched him, making contact with his jaw. Alex pulled Paris off. I'm not sure if he was trying to protect someone or what, it's not like he'd ever done anything to help before. Ronan smiled and wiped the blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand.

Paris was trying to get away from Alex. He wasn't finished yet. I looked at the two men, got up and walked towards them. What the h.e.l.l did Ronan do to me? The word, the kiss, and drowning in his l.u.s.t - what did it mean?

"What did you do to me?" I asked him through gritted teeth.

"What did you do to Connor?" Ronan retorted. A cool wind swirled around him.

I could feel his anger as if it were my own. I had totally forgotten about Connor. What did I do, was a good question. He lay motionless on the floor, just as the others had when the ripple hit them. Ronan was clearly p.i.s.sed. Why?

"If we are going to the meeting, I wanted backup. That means a large man who can handle a sword. Excuse me for not wanting to get my a.s.s kicked," I said, getting p.i.s.sed off myself.

"Connor has very low magickal ability. With the surge running through his body, I am not sure what will happen. Or if he can withstand all the power." Ronan said, disdain in his voice.

Ronan and I looked at each other for a few moments and I remembered the kiss. I wanted to know what he did to me. "What spell did you put on me? You did do something, I want to know what."

"I took advantage of the moment and stole a kiss, that is all," he answered with an amused look on his face.

"Bulls.h.i.+t, I can feel something different," I said. The first twinges of the surge started to stir but this time I didn't try to control it. I wanted Ronan to feel it, to know. Everyone seemed to be tuned in to my power.

"Logan, if you send another surge through us, we don't know what will happen," Paris said with urgency. He took a step towards me.

I stopped the surge from building up with an effort. But, what was I going to do with the power I held within me now? All I knew was I couldn't release the surge. Too many would be in danger. It had to go somewhere. My mind raced, trying to figure out what to do. Then I felt Connor's essence; he was dying. He was being consumed by my magick and I could feel him fading fast. The blast of my power was doing something to whatever magick that made him a vashon. I looked a Ronan. I had no clue what to do.

"Ronan..." I asked with a strong feeling of dread.

"There is nothing I can do to help him. You have negated the vashon magick that made him and linked him to me. You have to go to Connor and touch him, since it is your magick running through him now," he said in a careful voice.