Page 81 of Charmed

They turned in unison to stare at the beach. Fiona, to her credit, didn’t move a muscle to indicated she’d heard her aunt’s warning.

Down the beach, to their left, the Minister strode toward Fiona, witching blade in hand. His shoulder-length white hair whipped around his face. Though he was barefoot, he had on a pair of gray dress slacks and a blue button-down shirt.

The blade. Shit. He hadn’t even tried to conceal or sheath it.

Riley darted his gaze between her and his uncle, stomach near his knees and pulse jacked.

Another man came into view, twenty paces behind the Minister, and Riley cursed as recognition dawned. “That’s the hunter who was with him in the alley the day he cornered us.”

Tristan’s jaw clenched. “So much for showing up alone.”

“There’re three more hunters up here on the cliff ledge. Above you, far from me.”

“Son of a bitch.” Brady grabbed the back of his neck, finally getting on Riley’s fuckity-fuck level. “What do we do?”

Mara projected into their minds again. “Nothing. Wait, for now.”

Wait. Damn it, Riley closed his eyes a brief beat, then refocused on Fiona. They’d been waiting hours. Centuries, really, if they were to split hairs.

“That’s only four.” Kaida involuntarily shook her head, eyes wide, hands trembling. “The Brotherhood of Venetores has five active hunters at any given time. Where is the fifth?”

Shit. Oh shit, she was right. Riley had forgotten.

The Minister hopped onto a shallow boulder, thirty feet or so in front of Fiona.

Riley tried to wrap his head around that, around all the abrupt changes, but he could tell the gears were spinning for Fiona by the determined set of her jaw. “She’s got a plan.”

“Aye. She says to brace ourselves.”

Mara no sooner projected the words, and Fiona raised one palm toward the Minister, the other toward the rock wall.

A hurricane wind erupted near the hunter on the beach. A cyclone of air swirled around him and, with a sharp yell of distress from his lips, she flung him out into the ocean. He disappeared from view while the Minister watched.

Wind and sand blew into their cave, biting Riley’s skin. Unable to keep their footing, the five of them flew against the rear wall with a thud. They landed as a pile of limbs in a heap.

“Damn it, Fiona,” Brady moaned. “A little more warning next time, please.”

“Amen.” Tristan shouted over the whistling of air. “Everyone good?”

Pain seared Riley’s right shoulder, but on his hands and knees, he fought the surge and crawled toward the cave opening. Fear grabbed him by the throat. Sand stung his eyes, tiny razors, yet he caught three shadow figures catapult through the air and land in the water beyond the black horizon.

The other hunters. Gone with a flick of Fiona’s wrist.

The wind abruptly died, as if it had never been conjured, and Riley slumped on his belly, panting. “Took care of them, didn’t she?”

The others stood next to him as Kaida offered her hand to help him to his feet.

Ceara grabbed her head, bending over. “He’s furious. Ah, Goddess,” she moaned. “It’s loud. So loud. He’s furious.”

Tristan wrapped an arm around her shoulders while oh-shit pummeled Riley. Everywhere at once. If Ceara was sensing this much of the Minister’s wrath, then Fiona was in for a helluva tantrum as a result.

She remained on her boulder, moonlight and water as a backdrop, hands on her hips like a fierce warrior bored by the events. “I said to come alone.”

“You didn’t.” The Minister crossed his arms, widening his stance, witching blade still in hand. “Think I don’t know Mara’s on the cliff or the others are in a cave?”

“He knows.” Ice slithered up Riley’s spine. “We need to get down there.”

Brady shook his head. “Not until we know what he wants.”

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