Shadow Magic (32 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

BOOK: Shadow Magic
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Tiernan unfolded his arms. “I agree to this, as well.”
“As do I,” Hawk said.
The tension within Hannah relaxed and she let out her breath.
Garran's expression was still proud, imperious even, as he took back his sword from one of the guards. “Show me where Vidar is.”
AS HE STRODE TO the cells, Garran's grip on his sword hilt tightened as did the fury in his chest.
With Hawk, Tiernan, and Keir following him, Garran entered the darkened room where all light had been diminished due to the Drow inability to tolerate sunlight. With his keen vision he saw easily in the dark, his gaze traveling the cells where a few of his warriors remained. He knew these men, as he knew every one of the Dark Elves, including any child born into the realm.
Each man bowed from their shoulders in deference to their king. These were good men—why had they fought those working to eliminate Ceithlenn, against his orders?
Garran turned away from the men and met Vidar's dark eyes, eyes that held no remorse, only anger. For a moment Garran simply stared at the man.
Garran had no one to blame but himself, and his muscles tensed further at the realization. At one time he had trusted Vidar, had thought to place the future of his people in Vidar's hands should Garran die.
Truly Garran's failure was in his arrogance—he had never thought he would pass from this world or his own to travel to Summerland and leave his people without a strong and just leader.
The fact, too, that he had erred in judgment with Vidar was a boulder of tremendous weight in his gut.
With his teeth clenched, he bypassed his other men and strode to Vidar's cell.
The man had one shoulder hitched against one bar of the cell, his arms crossing his chest. His gaze slowly traveled from Garran's white-blond hair, down Garran's naked torso that exposed his daylight-fair skin. “So, you have taken the gift for yourself, I see.” Vidar smirked. “You claim to desire the light for all Dark Elves, but you have cheated all your people.”
“Under whose orders did you attack?” Garran demanded, his eyes narrowed.
Vidar shrugged. “I did what was necessary when you let down our people as king.” He pushed himself away from the bar of the cell and approached Garran. “You stole from me what was rightfully mine.”
“The blame lies with me—for not seeing you as you truly are, Vidar, until it was almost too late for our people.” The urge to reach through the bars and throttle the man with his bare hands was so great that Garran shook with the desire. “And still it was too late for what you have done.”
Vidar's eyes were dark as obsidian against his blue skin and blatant hatred twisted his expression. “We killed many, but not enough. As a failed king, you should have died, as well.”
Garran's arms trembled with fury as he thought of how satisfying it would be to behead Vidar. Garran forced himself to think as a king and not as a man filled with such rage he would strike down an unarmed prisoner.
Garran loosened his hold on his sword hilt. “I would choose your life as forfeit for being a traitor to the Drow. But I will allow those most affected by your treachery to select your fate.”
Vidar scowled and wrapped his hands around the bars. “The Directorate will agree that I acted for our people as you have not.”
Garran gave Vidar one more hard look, then turned and walked past the D'Danann and out of the room.
When he left the room and entered the main portion of the warehouse, he saw the sunlight had faded and looked down at his arms and chest. Even as he watched, his skin turned from fair to bluish-gray, and his long hair that had fallen over his shoulders shifted from white-blond to silvery-blue.
At one time Garran had thought that to walk in the daylight was the most valued thing any Drow would wish for. But now … they had made a world for themselves belowground and it was a good world. Perhaps he had been too consumed with the past to live for the present. His people, as well.
Once again he had to ask himself if he had made the right decision. He straightened and looked up at the dark windows. For his daughter, for Hannah, and for their people, yes. As a father and a lover, he could not be expected to ignore their needs for his own. Carden would make a good leader—and Garran hoped to have the opportunity to see to Carden's further training before … before the final battle.
Angry voices came from the door to the warehouse as it was opened.
Carden and Hark
.
Garran strode toward the Drow men flanked by D'Danann warriors. Two more Fae had their swords unsheathed and stood behind Garran's men as they walked into the warehouse, fog swirling in the background.
“We will see the king and the traitor, Vidar,” Carden said in a voice befitting a Steward. A king even. Powerful, forceful, with justified anger behind it.
“You shall be taken to our leaders,” one of the D'Danann said. “At once.”
Garran had approached close enough that he could see Carden. The Steward had a proud lift to his head, his features no longer youthful but commanding. Hark stood at his side, looking just as much the warrior, but with his usual calm.
“You will also see to it that our king is present,” Carden said as he and Hark relinquished their weapons to the D'Danann.
Carden turned his head just as Garran approached and a measure of relief stole over his features. He bowed from his shoulders. “My king.”
Hark also bowed. “Your Highness.”
“Did you order this attack?” Garran kept his voice low and hard as he looked from his Steward to the member of his Directorate. “I will have you answer me now.”
“No, we did not,” Carden said in a firm tone. “Vidar acted on his own.”
“It is so,” Hark said.
For a moment Garran studied them then he nodded to each man. Garran looked to one of the D'Danann. “Take us to Hawk.”
The Fae warriors kept their features blank. “We have already summoned him and the others through mind-speak,” one of the men said.
“More traitors?” came Keir's voice from behind them.
When he cut his gaze to the warrior, Garran narrowed his brows. Jake, Tiernan, and Hawk strode up behind Keir. Each man wore a hard expression. Regaining the D'Danann and humans' trust would be no easy task, no matter the innocence of his people.
One of the D'Danann guarding Carden and Hark said, “Ten additional Drow warriors are being held outside.”
Tiernan gave a sharp nod, acknowledging the information.
As he addressed his two men, Garran gestured toward the Fae. “Hawk, Tiernan, and Keir, leaders of the D'Danann.” He introduced the human. “Jake Macgregor, captain of the human forces.”
Garran in turn introduced his own men. “My Steward, Carden, and Head of the Order of the Directorate, Hark.”
Carden and Hark each gave a slight bow. “If the decision of the Directorate is so, we will see the traitor, Vidar,
executed once he is questioned,” Carden said, then glanced at Garran. “With our king's permission.”
“It is my belief that it should be so as well,” Garran said, “but I will leave the final determination to the Alliance as it is they who have suffered great casualties.”
Garran could almost hear the mind-speak between the three D'Danann warriors before Tiernan addressed Garran. “We will allow you to question the prisoner, but we must assess the innocence of the Drow before we allow any decisions to be made.”
The men strode toward the room with the cells where the Drow traitors were being held. Hannah and Rhiannon walked up behind the men as they reached the room.
“Carden, Hark.” Rhiannon reached the two men first. “What are you doing here?”
“Princess,” Carden said as he and Hark bowed to Rhiannon. “We are here to carry out Vidar's sentence.”
Warmth flowed through Garran's chest on hearing his men refer to his daughter as “princess.”
“And what is the sentence?” Hannah asked.
“The D'Danann and PSF must make that determination.” Carden straightened. “If it is left to the will of the Drow, Vidar shall be executed, as will the remaining Drow who fought with him.”
Rhiannon cocked her head. “Provided they're not innocent and were only following orders, orders they were told came from you.”
Carden bowed again. “Of course, Princess.”
“We'll bring them out one at a time using our magic ropes.” Hannah's gaze met Garran's. “We have the right to be involved, too.”
Garran's chest had tightened the moment Hannah spoke but he forced himself to relax. The D'Anu were accomplished warriors in their own right.
Each of the five Drow warriors were questioned by Hark with Garran's permission, and each man said they had
followed Vidar's orders. Vidar had said the king himself had given the command to attack.
As each of the five men recounted their stories, Garran's muscles grew more and more tense. He did not like the way Jake and the D'Danann looked at him, as if they believed he
had
given that order.
When Vidar was finally brought out, both Rhiannon and Hannah had their ropes binding the fierce warrior from his shoulders to the tips of his fingers. Two D'Danann followed, prodding Vidar with the tips of their swords. Vidar limped only slightly. His leg had been bandaged, but obviously his thigh was healing with the usual speed of the Dark Elves.
“Explain your actions,” Hark said, his normally calm voice holding darkness that caused Garran to lift his brows.
“The king is a fool to help these Fae and humans.” Vidar raked his gaze over Garran. “So, they know not your secret?”
Carden and Hark glanced at Garran, but he ignored Vidar's question. “My decision would be in agreement with the Directorate. To execute you for your crimes against the Fae and humans, therefore against our people.”
Vidar struggled in his bonds and bared his teeth.
“However.” Garran's gaze met those of the D'Danann leaders and Jake. “I leave the final decision to the human and D'Danann leaders—those beings whom you have harmed.”
Jake crossed his arms over his chest, not even wincing from what appeared to be a large wound beneath bandages heavily wrapping his biceps. Hawk, Tiernan, and Keir again appeared to be communicating via mind-speak.
“We will discuss this with Jake Macgregor,” Tiernan said, and all four men walked away.
Hannah and Rhiannon both glared at Vidar and the warrior grimaced as if they had tightened their glittering magical bonds around him.
Little time had passed before Jake and the D'Danann leaders returned.
“We have decided to turn over the prisoners and their fate to the Dark Elves,” Hawk said. “You may take them and return to the Drow realm.”
“However,” Tiernan added, “should our own be attacked again by the Drow, we shall take no prisoners.”
DARKWOLF INHALED THE SAN Francisco air, smelling brine and fish, but not the rotten-fish stench of the Fomorii.
It was early evening and he stood beside Elizabeth overlooking K-Dock and the California sea lions that had taken up residence there. An occasional bark bit the evening air to join the noises of tourists, buses, cars, vendors, and everything else one could imagine.
K-Dock was beside Pier 39, the busiest pier and one of the largest tourist traps in the city.
A trap. That's exactly what it would be if Ceithlenn's attack was successful. The busy piers were perfect feeding grounds for the dark goddess and the Fomorii. In one of Darkwolf's visions he had seen what she had planned and it was nasty.
He glanced around him at all the people out in the evening who would be nothing but human snacks to the Fomorii. Yeah, the slaughter wouldn't be pretty.
With martial law lifted the city was almost as busy as normal. This after assurances by government officials that citizens and tourists were safe from further terrorist attacks. Of course those assurances were given by officials whose bodies had been taken over by Fomorii demons.
Another tidbit he'd learned from the eye. Or should he call it the heart? The eye no longer existed. The only way for anyone to obtain his power would be to rip his heart from his chest and swallow it whole.
The thought sobered him for a moment when he remembered Elizabeth could have done just that. Since then he'd figured out how to protect himself by pinning her hands over her head when he fucked her, or took her from behind when she was on her hands and knees. And he'd taught himself not to lose any control when climaxing.
“Right now you see Ceithlenn with your power to vision?” Elizabeth asked as she looked out toward the lights of Alcatraz. Was she missing her life as the demon queen?
The power of his senses told him Elizabeth was conflicted. Confused even. Emotions she had never felt before had left her bewildered.
“Yes, I can see her.” Darkwolf glanced at the sky before looking back at Elizabeth. “She's close.” With the power he commanded he'd seen Ceithlenn begin her hunt for him after she visioned that he'd taken the power of the eye for himself. It was somewhat amusing how the goddess thought she could destroy him so easily.
“What are you waiting for?” Elizabeth tilted her head and looked up at him. Considering how tall he was now, she had to crane her neck. “Why don't you just find the bitch and get rid of her?”
“I need more power.” His coarse growl filtered through the loud chatter and music on the pier. “First I'll call out Balor, get rid of him, and take the rest of the god's power for my own.”
She twisted her lips and frowned. “How are you so sure you can do either—kill Balor or Ceithlenn or both?”
It still surprised him how regal and queenly Elizabeth continued to appear, and how she was unwilling to back down from him despite the fact that he could almost kill her with a thought.
He narrowed his gaze at her. “I have the power of a god—I can take him on.”
“
Most
of the power of one of the
old
gods.” Elizabeth waved her hand like shooing a fly. “And not a great one at that.” Anger at her words and dismissive gesture caused heat to flush over his body. She looked away from him, her expression not changing as she rested her forearms on a railing
overlooking the bay and barking sea lions. “I was there in the days the gods ruled this Otherworld. As Fomorii, I was a sea god before we were banished. Balor's true power was in the devastation the eye caused, and now that's gone.” She looked back at him. “What can
you
do?”
He dug his fingers into the wooden railing. “I have other magic the eye gave me. Don't underestimate how powerful I am now.”
Elizabeth shrugged and again he marveled at her failure to recognize how dangerous he was to her. Maybe she did realize that fact and she didn't give a damn. Or maybe she trusted him enough to believe he wouldn't hurt her.
He took a deep breath and relaxed his grip then rested his forearms on the railing beside Elizabeth.
What she'd said—and what she didn't say out loud—meant nothing. She didn't have a clue.
Darkwolf had spent the past day training himself to use his powers most effectively to be prepared for his oncoming battle with Balor. Now he was ready.
A thought niggled at his brain that he'd kept pushing back. When he had his revenge on both Balor and Ceithlenn for what they had done to him, he knew his power would allow him to take theirs.
What then? What did one do with the powers of a god?
At the time he'd obtained the eye, his goals had been magical powers and aiding Balor in returning to the land where he once ruled as a god.
Now Darkwolf could have more power than Balor and Ceithlenn combined, if he was successful.
Then what? He shook his head. No freaking idea.
He closed his eyes and let his mind slide into another vision to locate Ceithlenn.
Shock traveled through him in a cold wave. He jerked his eyelids open the moment he located the goddess bitch.
She had found Balor.

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