Shadow Magic (2 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

BOOK: Shadow Magic
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In the distance, Hannah could make out Rhiannon and her husband—a Tuatha D'Danann warrior named Keir—as they walked through the forest toward her.
Eavan, also a D'Danann warrior, accompanied them. The infuriating man wouldn't stop chasing her. Although he was charming, sexy, and exceptionally good-looking, she didn't plan on having anything to do with him, much less
any
male in Otherworld.
This wasn't her home. Unlike four of her Coven sisters, she refused to get entangled in some romantic mess that would pull her between two worlds. She'd seen enough of that thanks to her mother. And thanks to her mother's choices.
Her chest constricted at the thought of her less than loving childhood.
Deep breath. Calm and controlled.
She never lost her cool in front of other people and she wasn't about to now.
As her companions neared, Hannah rubbed the moon and crescent engraved band that encircled her upper right arm. The gold band was a symbol of her Pagan ancestry, and through a special ceremony it had been imbued with ancient magic. She'd had it designed as a gift to herself when she'd guided her software corporation past the twenty-five-million-dollar mark.
Her company … Hannah's whole body went rigid and she clenched her teeth. What was happening now to the company she'd built from the bottom up?
She let her hand fall away from her armband. The moon and crescent were for intuition and fulfillment, success and optimism.
Right now she was a little low on optimism and could use all the help she could get. Not to mention the reminder of what it felt like to be in control of her life. Of any damned thing.
Banshee gripped her shoulder tighter with his talons, bringing her firmly back to the present. She straightened her spine as Rhiannon, Eavan, and Keir finally reached her.
The tension radiating from Rhiannon when she approached kicked up Hannah's own. She and Rhiannon had never found common ground, and frankly, had never liked each other. But they were sister D'Anu witches, and Hannah respected Rhiannon for her magic, her talents, her dedication, and her love for her sister witches.
“Are you ready?” Rhiannon asked Hannah, managing to keep her tone civil. Morning sunlight gleamed on Rhiannon's chin-length auburn hair and her green eyes held a hint of irritation. She wore a leather outfit like that of the D'Danann warriors.
When Hannah and her sister witches fled from San Francisco a week ago, they hadn't been able to pack much, which had limited their wardrobes considerably. The choice had been peasant dresses like the women in the village, or the leathers of the male and female D'Danann warriors.
Leather won out with all the D'Anu witches.
It'd be a real pain fighting in a long skirt.
“I've been waiting for you for a good half hour.” Hannah resisted tugging down her own leather shirt. So much for her Vera Wang tailored slacks and Dior blouses. Her Jimmy Choos and Pradas were back in San Francisco, but at least she had her Arche running shoes and didn't have to wear D'Danann boots.
Rhiannon brushed her palms against her pants, her expression turning from irritated to anxious. The demon scars on one of her cheeks stood out a little more as her face paled. Rhiannon was no doubt nervous because the four of them were about to come face-to-face with Rhiannon's newly discovered father, the king of the Drow.
Hannah wondered how she'd feel if she found out her father was one of the Dark Elves—and a traitor.
A determined look came into Rhiannon's eyes. “Let's do it then.”
The four strode through the thick forest. Only the light weight of Banshee on her shoulder, and the slight bump of her pack against her hip as she walked, kept Hannah's thoughts grounded.
“A waste of time.” Keir's expression was thunderous, which was not unusual for the six-foot-six warrior. “I find it unlikely the stubborn bastard will agree to join our battle.”
Rhiannon frowned as she looked up at her husband and she sounded edgy and unsure as she spoke. “Even though he said no before, maybe this time Garran—my father—will agree.”
Hannah held back her own opinions. It wouldn't do any good to rail again about not trusting the Dark Elves. Two of their sister witches insisted they could and should give the traitorous bastards a chance. Hannah considered the fact that the Drow had sided with the warlock Darkwolf at one time. No, thank you. It didn't matter that they'd had a change of heart later on.
But the D'Anu witches, Tuatha D'Danann warriors of Otherworld, and the Paranormal Special Forces of San Francisco desperately needed the help of the Dark Elves against Ceithlenn and the Fomorii.
If only they could convince the Drow king to commit his forces to battle.
This time they would.
This time they
had
to.
The moment the trees parted to reveal a meadow and the transference stone, Hannah's gaze riveted on a woman who stood on the opposite side of the stone. Hannah couldn't help but catch her breath in surprise and something like wonder.
Stunning. The woman was absolutely stunning. No high fashion model could begin to compare.
It was impossible to look away from her. She … glowed. Or was it the air around her that did? Such blue, blue eyes. Long, flaxen hair hung in a waterfall of silk to her toes, and she had delicate pointed ears. Her filmy clothing ruffled in the soft wind like the leaves of nearby trees.
The woman stood in her bare feet beside a bridge that
spanned a small stream. Water made a tinkling sound as it trickled over stones. The scent of wildflowers and rain-cleansed air swept through the meadow.
Hannah cocked her head. This must be the Great Guardian her sister witches had spoken of countless times. An Elvin woman of indeterminable age, who was reputed to be wise, intuitive, and prophetic.
Strange warmth flowed through Hannah as she stepped closer to her companions. Vaguely she was aware of Keir and Eavan laying their weapons on the ground before the Guardian.
“Rise,” the Great Guardian said in a voice that was like a song to Hannah's ears.
It was then she realized all of her companions had bowed. Rippling warmth spread along Hannah's skin. With her upbringing, she had been taught to never bow to anyone but a queen or king of a foreign country. This Elvin woman was far more powerful than any royalty Hannah had met, and a part of her wished she had bowed with her companions.
The Great Guardian smiled, her gaze lingering on Hannah.
Some strange force drew Hannah toward the woman and Hannah didn't resist. She walked closer to the Guardian until they were only a few feet apart. Banshee stirred on Hannah's shoulder, but didn't react with alarm.
“Much troubles your soul, reluctant traveler,” the Elvin woman said, her words directed to Hannah. “Tell me what burdens you.”
Hannah held back the sudden diatribe that rose up in her throat.
What burdens me? Let's see … my Top Ten, or the whole freaking list?
“Speak freely.” The Guardian's gaze firmly held Hannah's and a pulling sensation tugged against her mind.
There was simply no choice but to answer. Words spilled out so fast Hannah almost couldn't believe she was saying them.
“To start with, who wouldn't be upset if their world was falling apart, overrun by a goddess-bitch and a slew of
demons?” Hannah's voice held a bite that she hadn't intended, but she went on. “We've lost our homes and had to flee to Otherworld. But more importantly, thousands,
thousands
are dead because of Ceithlenn. Not to mention that we can't get any Anu-blessed help from the armies here, except a few D'Danann.”
Hannah's control had nearly shattered, which shocked her like a jolt to her chest and caused her to step back. Banshee sent a warm wave of his magic through Hannah and she sensed his attempt to calm her. Still, she felt anything but.
The Guardian's expression remained serene. Despite her respect for the Elvin woman, Hannah fought not to ball her fists at her sides from the frustration, anger, and fear boiling up inside of her. It was all she could do to keep her own expression as collected and controlled as possible.
“You have much to be angry about.” The Guardian's blue gaze continued to hold Hannah's. “You seek the Drow once again for aid. Perhaps you will find some solace for your rage in those dark places below our ground.”
That's supposed to make me feel better?
Hannah's belly clenched. More words bubbled up inside her, angry words, but the Guardian had already turned to Rhiannon.
“Your father represents his people, and he must have a reason to lead them into battle. It is true the Drow lean toward what benefits them. It is their way, one we must respect.”
“Respect?” Rhiannon's cheeks flushed. “How can I respect a race that isn't willing to help others for the sake of the common good, rather than for their own gain?” She propped her hands on her hips. “Even if I am part Drow, I can't accept that.”
“You must.” The Guardian looked from Rhiannon to Hannah. “Tell King Garran it has been decided that, providing the Drow help in the battle against Ceithlenn, he will get what he most desires for his people. Conditionally. And he must come to me alone to receive my gift.”
Following a brief moment of shock that the Light Elves would help the Drow, a twinge of hope sparked in Hannah's belly. “We'll tell him.”
“Thank you, Guardian.” Rhiannon gave an audible sigh of relief. “Anything that can help us defeat Ceithlenn is a good thing.”
“Anything?” The Great Guardian's gaze moved from Rhiannon to Keir to Eavan and finally landed on Hannah. “Think well on choices you may be forced to make.”
As she continued to study Hannah, the Guardian added, “You will know what you must do in the far reaches of the ground, Hannah.”
Hannah blinked. Confusion tumbled through her like a landslide.
Before any of them could respond, the Guardian turned, stepped onto the bridge, and faded from sight.
For a moment, Hannah and her companions remained quiet. Only the sounds of wind whistling through branches and birds singing interrupted the silence. The breeze ruffled flower petals and dandelion fluff floated in the air.
“
Why
does she do that?” Rhiannon grumbled and marched to the transference stone. “I hate it when she speaks in riddles.”
Light laughter tinkled through the surrounding forest but was gone almost as soon as Hannah heard it.
Rhiannon apparently wasn't wasting any time. She stepped onto the stone, Keir following as he held her hand. Rhiannon looked from Hannah to Eavan and said, “Hold tight.”
Hannah watched as Rhiannon's and Keir's forms wavered like sunshine on the surface of a pond, and then they were gone.
Eavan looked down at Hannah and seemed confused. “Hold tight?”
Hannah raised her fingers to Banshee's beak and he nuzzled his head against them. “It means to wait for her and she'll be right back.”
“Ah.” The warrior's eyes were deep brown, an arresting
contrast to his white-blond hair. “Then we have a moment to ourselves,” he said in the deep Irish brogue of the D'Danann. “A moment for you to tell me why you avoid me so?”
I don't have time or mental space for this right now
.
Hannah met his gaze as she lowered her hand. “I made it a policy not to date anyone who flies.”
He raised an eyebrow. D'Danann were powerful Fae warriors who had the ability to unfold their great wings when they wished to, and then to tuck them away so that they vanished as if they didn't exist.
She mentally shook her head at the thought of any of her acquaintances in the city getting a good look at a man with wings. She almost smiled. Wouldn't that set them on their asses?
Eavan opened his mouth as if to say something when Rhiannon's form wavered on the transference stone.
“Time for you to head back to the village,” Hannah said to Banshee. “It's not natural for you to go underground.”
She had the strangest sense that she wouldn't be seeing him for a while. An empty feeling settled in her belly. Banshee had become a part of her when she was thirteen, when he had appeared out of the night sky just before she'd performed a moon ceremony alone. When he'd landed on her chest of ritual tools, she'd known instantly he was a witch's familiar. He had filled her with the strength of his magic, imbuing her with warmth and power and heightening her senses.
Sometimes she wondered what witch had belonged to Banshee, and he to her. Somewhere in the world that witch had likely passed on to Summerland. What had brought Banshee to Hannah, she didn't know, but she'd thanked the goddess Anu many times that he had come.
The falcon made a low sound and tugged at her hair with his beak, and she knew it was to reassure her. She held out her arm and he sidestepped until he was far enough away from her face to spread his wings. He pushed away from her arm as he took flight and Hannah watched him for a moment as he
circled above her before vanishing beyond the forest. She swallowed back a feeling of loneliness that crowded her throat.

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