Thousands of lights glittered from Marin County ahead, and from the shores of San Francisco, which they had left behind them. Rhiannon stood beside Jake, her hands tucked into the pockets of her bomber jacket. As soon as a couple of the D’Danann got Hannah and Garran settled in the back rooms of the warehouse, Jake and his team had left to check out Garran’s story. Jake furrowed his brow as he gripped the boat’s cold handrail while they neared the island. What would they find? The night smelled of brine—but none of that strong rotten fish stench of the Fomorii was present. Or the stench of evil magic that he caught whenever Ceithlenn was near—not at all the same as the Fomorii stench. The goddess’s power was as evil-smelling as the magic that had slaughtered his men in a small Middle Eastern village when Jake had been Special Ops in the Marines. The foul odor always made him want to puke. Yeah, magic definitely had a smell all to its own, depending on what kind of magic. The D’Danann and D’Anu had a different magical scent, a kind of signature.
