Visions of Skyfire

Chapter 23

“Bruja!”A shout in Spanish that needed no translation. Witch.

Rune instinctively grabbed his knife and crouched between Teresa and whoever was coming at them out of the darkness. His blood pumped furiously and if his heart could have beaten, it would have been pounding against his rib cage. Eyes narrowed, he split his attention between the witch he must protect and those who meant her harm.

He didn’t feel the presence of another immortal and that was good. At least he knew there was no Eternal lying in wait with the mortals determined to kill Teresa.

Three men charged from the shadows. Armed with knives, silver blades shining in the pale light that poured from the store windows, they came at Rune and Teresa in a rush.

Rune caught the first man with a shoulder in the stomach, then stood up quickly, tossing the attacker into the air to land hard on the dirt. He spun around to face the next man, big, with a scar on his cheek and dark eyes slitted in determination. Rune braced himself, all the while hearing his witch shouting in fury and her damn bird screeching.

He caught the man with the jagged edge of his blade but didn’t have time to enjoy the spread of red across his shirt. Already the fallen attacker had regained his feet to join in the strike again. The third man was heading around him toward Teresa, but the bird screeched, flew up and came at the guy’s eyes, claws extended. The man howled and dropped, lifting both hands to protect his face.

Rune grunted in appreciation and threw himself wholeheartedly into the fight. In hand-to-hand combat, his immense strength was an advantage that mortal men couldn’t hope to match. In his peripheral vision, he saw people racing into the narrow street to watch—or to help their fellow villagers. He didn’t know which. All he knew was he had to protect Teresa.

How had they all discovered so quickly that he and Teresa were there? Fixing his gaze on those still threatening them, Rune realized how it had happened. It was the old man in the store. Teresa’s magic had set off the radio and television and the old man had picked up on the presence of magic. He had sent the boy out to alert the other villagers. Or maybe there had even been a report about them on the television playing in the store. Word had spread to even this smallest of towns in the middle of the desert, then. Which meant there would be others hunting them. Mexico wouldn’t be safe for Teresa.

Nowhere would be safe.

As his mind raced, he called on the flames to cover his hands for the fight. Someone gasped; another voice cursed loud and viciously and yet another voice began to pray. Rune wasn’t listening to any of it.

His and Teresa’s identities were no longer a secret. There was no reason not to use all of the weapons available to him. He threw a ragged bolt of flame at the porch beside him and the fire attacked the desert-dried wood like a starving animal offered a feast. Someone cried out a warning and he knew that the crowd’s attention would be diverted, at least temporarily, while they fought to keep that fire from spreading.

“Skyfire burn and surge with heat!” Teresa shouted a spell at the heavens and Rune felt the ripple of her magic sliding across his skin. She hadn’t used a spell to reinforce her power before—he hoped it influenced her aim.

“Magic I call,” she cried, her shout rising above the noise of the fight and the roar of the growing fire. “Skyfire burn and race to me!”

Rune took a slice to his biceps and used the fury thus engendered to turn on the bastard behind him.

His opponent grinned now as he sidestepped in a wide circle around Rune. Foolishly, the man tossed his knife from hand to hand, as if Rune would be impressed. Instead, Rune ended his taunts by flinging one arm toward him and allowing flames to leap from his fingertips to the man’s filthy shirt.

Instantly, fire raced over the man’s body and he threw himself to the ground, rolling over and over in the dirt.

The storekeeper stepped outside, carrying a shotgun that he lowered and aimed at Teresa’s back. Rune threw fire again, but before the flames reached the old bastard, Teresa’s spell erupted.

Lightning forked from the sky, slamming into the earth with an electrical charge that lifted the hair on Rune’s head and sent several people crashing to the ground, including the treacherous old man. His shotgun fell harmlessly from his hands as those still standing screamed and ran for the relative safety of their homes.

But not everyone was alarmed by the jagged bolts of lightning that slashed and burned the village. There were still two attackers, ready to risk all for the reward of trapping a witch. Teresa’s body arched gracefully toward the sky as she sent her power heavenward to call down the energy of the gods.

Even in the fury of the moment, Rune was struck by her beauty. Arms lifted high, her long, black hair twisting and writhing in the wind created by her magic, she looked like a young goddess. And while his mate worked her spell, Rune was left to take care of the most immediate threat.

He squared off against the first man, who came in low with a long swipe of his blade, designed to gut Rune and leave him bleeding out on the dirt. Rune stepped quickly to one side at the last moment and made a hard jab of his own. His knife cut the other man down and he dropped like a stone. The second man cursed him in Spanish and slashed his knife in an arc that caught Rune’s shoulder and sent a low hum of pain firing through him.

The old man’s reinforcements were falling fast.

Bolts of lightning continued to illuminate the night. Again and again, the slashing streams of white-hot power crashed to the ground, and though Teresa didn’t actually hit anyone, she kept the village distracted.

Losing patience with the skirmish, Rune finished the last of their attackers with a knife to the heart, then let him fall. Standing in the middle of the street, surrounded by the bolts of energy pummeling the earth, Rune felt his own powers recharging through his connection to Teresa. His hair lifted in the wind and his body thrummed with the prickling sensations of millions of volts sizzling the air.

“Rune!” Her shout reached him over the clamorous noise and the powerful bolts of electricity. His head came up and his eyes fixed on her in time to see the old bastard once again lifting his damn shotgun to point at her.

Instantly, Rune called on the flames again, flashed out and reappeared behind the duplicitous old man. He snapped the man’s neck and dropped him to the dirt. Without a backward glance, Rune grabbed Teresa, who automatically reached down and snatched up their bag of supplies.

“Willful woman!” he muttered and flashed them from the village, leaving only the dead and the suddenly still, silent night behind them.