Free Wicked Magic by Cheyenne McCray Page A

Keir’s eyes.
    The hair on Rhiannon’s scalp prickled when they all stood at the foot of the ladder. Gross, gross, gross , she thought as sewage swished over her boots and the smell clogged her senses.
    The only light came from the open manhole cover. “Damn, it’s dark in here,” Rhiannon said.
    â€œD’Danann do not require light to see,” Keir said in his arrogant tone and Rhiannon wanted to slug him.
    â€œWell, humans and witches do.” She held her hands up and with her magic cradled a dancing gold light in her palms.
    â€œWorks for me,” Jake said.
    Keir started walking in the direction of the rotten fish smell.
    The Fomorii stench grew stronger and stronger as they made their way along the tunnel, through the sludge. The curved walls were not made of metal, but of brick, showing the age of this part of San Francisco’s sewage drains. Much of the city’s sewage systems were more than seventy years old, and other parts had been around a hundred years or more.
    They had to crouch as they worked their way down the tunnel, passing an occasional metal drain as they crept along.
    Keir raised one of his hands and brought them all to a full halt. “Extinguish the light, little one.” Keir’s voice in Rhiannon’s mind almost made her yelp in shock.
    Instead she let the small light fade until it was completely dark. For a moment silence reigned and then Rhiannon heard it—grunts, snorts, and growls from somewhere ahead.
    In the darkness, Sheridan found Rhiannon’s fingers and
squeezed. “Hold tight, Rhiannon,” Sheridan said. “Take Jake’s hand in yours.”
    Rhiannon fumbled behind her until her palm rested on Jake’s chest. He took her hand, just as Sheridan started guiding them forward.
    â€œStop,” Keir said in Rhiannon’s mind. She felt like tilting her head to the side and smacking her ear to get rid of his voice. “I will scout ahead to determine the number of Fomorii and if Ceithlenn is there. The human transmitters may be too loud to use. Tell Jake what I am going to do, as I cannot mind-speak with someone who is not magically inclined.”
    After allowing Keir’s words to take a moment to register, Rhiannon whispered the message to Jake, who gripped her hand tighter in response.
    Rhiannon focused on her powers, letting the gray magic build inside her. But she kept the Shadows buried deep.
    Keir’s heart thundered with blood lust as he left the others behind. He crept forward until he reached a fairly large chamber where several sewage drains came together to flood into one larger tunnel. There was enough space for them to take on the demons here if they had to.
    In the darkness he could clearly see at least ten Fomorii in their deformed shapes and varied colors.
    No flame-haired goddess. He had witnessed Ceithlenn’s transformation in the battle at the gate to Underworld, a sight he would never forget.
    He relayed his observations through mind-speak to his comrades. “Damnation,” he added when he saw what slid in from another tunnel. “They have a Basilisk.”
    The only thing more deadly to Fae than iron was a Basilisk’s poison.
    Keir stilled his breathing as the Basilisk raised its head, flicked its tongue, and scented the air.
    Garbled noises came from the Fomorii, but from the way they were looking at all the tunnels, Keir had a good idea what the beasts were saying.

    He kept himself pressed against the brick wall of the sewage tunnel as one of the Fomorii looked his way. “It appears we are in for a fight,” he told his comrades in mind-speak. To Rhiannon he said, “Stay clear. It will be dangerous.”
    He thought he heard her respond, “Bite me,” and he would have smiled if the situation were not so dire. As it was he wanted to protect her, to keep her from harm.
    By the gods! This obsession was going to kill them all if he did not get his mind on