Shadow Magic (3 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

BOOK: Shadow Magic
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Hannah secured her pack on her shoulder, turned back to the transference stone, and headed onto it so that she stood beside Rhiannon. The strength of the tension between the two of them collided and Rhiannon took a step aside and cleared her throat. She always made it clear that she hated for most people to invade her personal space.
Hannah knew she was pushing buttons whenever she got too close to Rhiannon. Right now they didn't have time for her phobia, or whatever it was.
“You're just going to have to let me inside that little box of yours,” Hannah said, “if we're going to get there anytime soon.”
“Whatever.” Rhiannon's eyes sparked before she looked at Eavan. “Come on, I can take both of you.” With an expression of distaste directed toward Hannah, Rhiannon held out one of her hands to Hannah, and her other to Eavan.
Currents of discomfort ran through Hannah's arm as she clasped Rhiannon's cool hand. Hannah wondered if the dark Shadows inside of Rhiannon were reacting to her in some way, since Rhiannon didn't really want to be touching her.
After seeing in the last battle what the power of those Shadows could do, Hannah felt more than a stirring of unease, like something crawling, under her skin. What if Rhiannon lost control over the Shadows she had inherited from her Drow father?
Maybe going on the transference stone with Rhiannon was a bad idea.
Maybe it was a terrible idea.
“Here we go.” Rhiannon clenched Hannah's hand.
The world went hazy then black. Hannah couldn't hear, couldn't see, and her skin numbed.
For a flash, Hannah couldn't feel Rhiannon's hand, and a burst of fear clawed at her throat. What if she became lost in whatever kind of vortex Rhiannon was taking them through?
Bright light suddenly shone in Hannah's eyes and
Rhiannon's hand grasped hers hard enough to scrunch her bones together. Hannah's feet met grass, and she was certain she would have tipped over if Rhiannon hadn't had a hold on her.
Hannah composed herself and shook her hand free of Rhiannon's. She glanced at her companions and saw that Eavan had made it as well, although he looked a little tipsy himself.
Keir stood beneath an apple tree at the center of the meadow. A rock outcropping took up a great stretch of room on one side. From the top tier of the rocks, a waterfall spilled into a couple of pools before disappearing into the ground, and the place smelled of grass and flowers that were being tended by a group of tiny Faeries.
Hannah hadn't been here before, but one of her sister witches, Copper Ashcroft, had been trapped here for over a year. Hannah glanced up at the apple tree. No wonder Copper wouldn't eat anything made with apples.
Hannah noticed that Rhiannon blinked as if the sunlight bothered her, and her skin was already starting to redden. Rhiannon had always had some sensitivity to the sun, and it wasn't until she learned she was half Drow that she discovered why.
In a voice that lacked enthusiasm, Rhiannon said, “Come on,” and gestured for everyone to follow.
Hannah flexed her hands at her sides as if she were about to battle the Drow.
The Dark Elves weren't to be trusted, and Hannah wasn't about to start.
RHIANNON LED HANNAH, EAVAN, and Keir around the outcropping of boulders. Beside a pine tree was a flat, rectangular rock surface. It was the shape and size of a large door and surrounded by dirt, no grass. The flat stone had strange markings scratched into the surface along all sides.
Without looking at her companions, Rhiannon stomped on the door five times—probably with a little more force than was necessary—then stepped back.
A fraction of a moment passed before the stone door shuddered and started moving across the ground, to the left. It made horrid screeching sounds as it slid to the side, causing chill bumps to rise on Hannah's skin. If she had any say, first thing she'd do was have that door greased.
Keir insisted on leading and stepped onto a set of stone stairs that disappeared into the darkness of the Drow realm. Only one person could walk down the stairs at a time. Rhiannon then Hannah followed Keir, with Eavan taking up the rear. Torches flamed to life along the walls the moment Keir's boot hit the first step. Hannah blinked as her eyes adjusted to the change from sunlight to near darkness.
Cool air touched her cheeks and her hair lifted slightly from her shoulders as a breeze rushed up from below. As she made her way down, Hannah avoided touching the dirt walls. The last thing she wanted to do was get filthy. The
passageway smelled of damp earth and moss, not unpleasant scents—but it was still dirt.
The only sounds were Rhiannon's and her own breathing, the slight noise of small stones and dirt shifting under their shoes, and the snap and hiss of the torches. The D'Danann were eerily silent as always.
After what seemed an eternity, when they were deep underground, the four of them stepped off the stairs into a large, circular hall. Only a few torches were lit, giving them just enough light to see. Hannah's gaze swept the room, taking in the forms of warriors carved into the walls in all manner of action.
Her heart jumped a little when four men melted from the partial darkness—two on either side of Hannah and her companions.
She contained her surprise at how stunningly handsome each one of the Dark Elves was despite their soft-toned bluish-gray skin. Amazingly, their skin color suited them. Their tall, muscular physiques were so well defined they could have been sculpted from marble. Shining hair rested on or fell below their broad shoulders, their hair in shades ranging from silvery blue to gray to black around their pointed ears.
Leather straps attached to breastplates crisscrossed the Dark Elves' bare chests. They also wore metal shoulder plates and snug leather pants. Quivers with arrows were secured to their backs. The arrows looked to be created from pewter and probably some other alloy to strengthen them.
Hannah narrowed her gaze. The detailed edges of their shoulder and breastplates were twenty-four-karat pure white gold with touches of yellow gold. If anything, she knew her fine metals and gems. Each of the Dark Elves wore a small fortune.
“Keir of the D'Danann, who may we have the pleasure of meeting today?” asked a warrior with a deep voice and an unusual accent as he and one of his cohorts blocked the way.
Keir turned slightly to allow the Drow to see the rest of
the group behind him. “You should remember the king's daughter, Rhiannon. Our companions are Hannah of the D' Anu and Eavan of the D'Danann.”
“Forgive us, Princess,” the deep-voiced Drow said. Each man bowed to Rhiannon. “If we had seen you, we would have taken you to the king at once.”
Even in the dim lighting Hannah saw Rhiannon's cheeks redden. “Yeah. Well. We would like to see Garran, my, ah, father, right away.”
A small burst of adrenaline heightened Hannah's senses at the realization they were about to meet the infamous king of the Drow. Rhiannon's discomfort was obvious and Hannah found herself feeling a little sorry for her even though they didn't get along. To find out the king of the Drow was her father—Rhiannon must have been torn in so many different directions.
The men bowed again, then turned and led the way as Hannah, Rhiannon, Keir, and Eavan followed.
Hannah raised her eyebrows when they were taken to a chamber that resembled half of a geode. The entire room sparkled from the natural crystals, including the ceiling. At the back of the room was a door that looked to be made of obsidian. An oval black granite table, surrounded by high-backed padded granite seats, took up one side of the room. Freeform carvings of Drow warriors graced the chamber.
A large, black padded granite throne commanded the center of the room. A matching smaller throne stood to the side of the larger one.
Hannah's throat grew dry and she felt a quivering sensation under her skin at the sight of the man reclining on the larger throne.
Bless it!
Her body's reaction to the sight of him must have been due to the legendary magic of the Dark Elves that supposedly captivated a woman to the point she never wanted to leave the Drow realm.
Absurd
.
The more she studied him, the more she realized there
was something … familiar about this man. His powerful build and the way he held his head at a regal angle.
Hair rose along her arms.
The man who watched me at the pond
.
She knew it with every fiber of her being. A combination of lust and fascination tingled along her nerve endings and she bit the inside of her cheek to try to rein in her bizarre reactions.
The man, whom she could only assume was the king, was even more handsome, more gorgeous, than she had thought him to be when she saw him last night. He looked as if he could be a model for a world-class gym—despite the fact that he had bluish-gray skin, more gray than blue.
Now she knew the color of his hair, a sinful fall of silvery-blue that rested on his shoulderplates. Through the strands she saw his pointed ears, and the craziest image of running her tongue over those curves and points rolled through her mind.
King Garran had the most incredible eyes—beautiful liquid silver. The kind of eyes she imagined would turn to steel-gray when he was angry … or aroused.
Every sensibility within her went on vacation as she moved her gaze from those amazing eyes.
His features—so strong, so well-defined they appeared even more aristocratic than last night. Just the way he held himself and the air of absolute confidence and cunning intelligence that surrounded him caused desire to stir in her belly. He was a man who knew what he wanted and knew how to get it. Those qualities had always been a huge turn-on with Hannah.
She had no doubt he was a man even sronger and more virile than could be imagined.
Her gaze moved to the shoulderplates covering the broad expanse of his shoulders. Gem-encrusted leather straps crisscrossed his smooth, sculpted chest, and like last night she wondered how it would feel to brush her palms over the skin that stretched over such taut muscles.
She almost felt dizzy with lust as she looked from his chest to his rippled abs and on down … good goddess, the
man had to be huge. Her mouth watered as she imagined touching all of him, every bit of him, including his powerful thighs and no doubt a taut ass to die for. He had probably lived for centuries, maybe millennia, but the Drow king looked no older than his mid-to-late thirties.
Drow
king.
Hannah snapped her gaze to meet the liquid silver eyes of the king. Eyes that held both the promise of hot, sweaty sex, and also a tinge of amusement.
Drow magic. He's using his magic to make me want him so badly I can hardly stand it.
She swallowed and tried to sort out what was real. It felt so real. Every bit of desire flooding through her.
It can't be. It must be Drow magic.
Hannah straightened her spine as she clenched her jaw and fisted her hands at her sides.
Got. To. Get. A. Grip.
It seemed like she'd been staring at King Garran for hours, but it had probably only been a couple of minutes.
But in those minutes …
To Hannah's relief, the king looked lazily from her to Rhiannon.
Rhiannon stepped forward. She held her chin up as the king rose and walked down the dais toward his daughter.
Focus. Concentrate on the reason we're here.
“Rhiannon.” He caught his daughter's hands. “You have come to see me.”
King Garran's unusual accent and sensual voice caused a thrill to travel down Hannah's spine.
Rhiannon cleared her throat. “Yes. And to ask the same favor of you again.”
Garran paused, then gave a nod, his expression thoughtful as he released her hands. “Allow me to meet your companions.”
As Rhiannon turned to introduce the three of them, Hannah met Garran's gaze.
Their surroundings seemed to vanish as his liquid silver
eyes drew her in. Rhiannon's voice buzzed in Hannah's ears, but Garran didn't look away from her.
Garran came toward Hannah with the grace of a predator, every muscle in his body flexing with his movements. He rested one of his hands on his sword hilt.
When Garran reached her, Hannah found it hard to breathe. She didn't know what was happening to her, but she didn't care for it. These sensations were touching her with a warmth that felt as if it were wrapping its way around her very soul. It was on a level she knew really wasn't Drow magic at all.
What in Anu's name is going on?
She gathered her usual cool reserve and gave him what she hoped was a “back off” stare.
He took her hand and a jolt of
something
shot through her as he raised her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her skin. The warmth inside her both tightened and expanded at the same time, nearly overwhelming her.
When the Drow king raised his head, his expression was so sensual that she felt as though she could dissolve on the spot. Melt into a pool like the liquid silver of his eyes.
She swallowed and bit the inside of her cheek.
Hard.
He didn't release her hand. “The woman of mystery,” he said softly, so that she was certain only she heard. His sensuous Elvin accent sent a thrill through her belly. The accent wasn't Irish like the D'Danann's. More old-world, as those who lived in the days of King Arthur might have spoken. “What is your name?” he asked in a louder tone of voice.
Words almost wouldn't come to her. “Hannah Wentworth.” She snatched her hand away then struggled not to clench it at her side. “Of the gray magic D'Anu witches.” Why she didn't say anything about last night at the pond, she wasn't sure. And why he didn't seem inclined to talk about it added to her confusion.
“It is most certainly my pleasure.” Garran held her gaze for a moment then turned to Keir and they clasped each other in that centuries-old hand-to-elbow handshake. “Keir, D'Danann.”
He released Keir and offered his hand to Eavan, who hesitated before accepting it and returned the same hand-to-elbow grip.
“King Garran,” Eavan said with a slight nod as they released each other. Hannah detected a note of hostility in his tone and wondered if it had anything to do with the king flirting with her.
Garran met Eavan's gaze. “And you are Eavan of the D'Danann, as my daughter said.”
Had Rhiannon introduced Eavan? Hannah's ears had been buzzing so loudly she hadn't heard a word Rhiannon said.
Garran turned to his daughter and smiled. “Please. Join me. We were just about to feast.”
Keir put his arm around Rhiannon's shoulders. Before she realized what he was doing, Garran touched Hannah's elbow and directed her out of the chamber and into the hall. Her stomach twisted into a knot just from that small touch as he guided her across the great circular hall and into another chamber that was obviously a banquet room. The table was large, rectangular, and could probably seat fifty people.
After releasing Hannah's arm, Garran drew back a chair that stood beside the largest chair at the head of the table, and Hannah sat on it. Amazingly, the padded leather was as soft and smooth as a velvet night sky, and so comfortable Hannah couldn't help but relax.
Garran then seated Rhiannon directly across from Hannah, on the other side of the table, and Keir pulled out the seat beside her. Eavan eased next to Hannah as Garran took the chair at the head of the table.
For the first time in her life, Hannah was nervous around a man. Beneath the table she dug her fingernails into her pack that she held in her lap, trying to get her feelings under control.
The long table quickly filled with Dark Elves, all male. Where were the women?
While Hannah did her best not to look at Garran, his deep
voice reminded her of summer nights and star-filled skies. It flooded her senses as he spoke to some of those gathered around the table.

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