The Forbidden

by Cheyenne McCray

  She bit a finger on the hand clamped over her mouth hard enough to draw blood and the coppery taste touched her tongue. The man swore in what sounded like Gaelic, of all things.

  “Stop fighting me, witch of the D’Anu,” a rough male voice with a strong Irish brogue said when they were deep into the darkness.

  The same voice as the man on the fire escape who’d spoken in her head.

  Silver went still. And this man—or whatever the creature was—knew she was one of the thirteen secret D’Anu witches in all of San Francisco.

  Not good. Not good at all.

  First she’d sensed Darkwolf’s discovery of her, and now this.

  “You have little time before your world changes.” The man’s brogue was deep and sensual, and Silver shivered despite herself. “Your Coven could be lost forever.”

  She tensed, wild thoughts racing through her mind. Was he threatening her? Or was he warning her? Her stomach pitched at the thought of anything happening to even one member of her Coven.

  “I will release you if you promise to listen instead of fighting me,” he said close to her ear, and she shivered again. “Then you may go.”

  Without hesitating, Silver gave a sharp nod and was rewarded with her freedom. Quickly waving her hand with an illumination spell, she lit the alleyway with a soft blue glow. At the same time she whirled—and came to a complete halt, heart beating so hard her chest ached.

  It was indeed the same gorgeous man who had been on the fire escape with her.

  But this time he had wings.

  Huge ebony-feathered wings.

  “Tuatha D’Danann,” Silver whispered. She had no doubt the sexy winged man before her was one of an ancient race of Fae beings long absent from the mundane plane of existence. “You don’t belong here. You belong in Otherworld.”

  The man gave a single flap of his massive wings. “I have come to warn you.”

  Silver shook her head. “No. The D’Danann are neutrally aligned, like the Elves. They don’t warn. They don’t take sides.”

  The corner of his mouth curved slightly. “You know our history.”

  The D’Anu were all at least partial descendants of the Ancient Druids. How could they not know of the D’Danann?

  Silver gathered herself and raised her chin. Her hands twitched at her sides, ready to perform spellwork if necessary—although who knew if anything she did could faze a D’Danann?

  Damn, but she wished she had her knives. She would never kill with them, but they had served her well in many other ways. “What do you want?” she asked.

  He took a step closer and it took all her control not to back up. She could best the strongest of men in a battle using her magic and her athletic abilities, and her daggers were often a big help. But this man wasn’t human. If he really was D’Danann—

  Goddess help me.

  Silver stared in amazement as she heard the pop of bone while his massive wings folded away and vanished right through his sleeveless shirt. By the time the man stood within a hairsbreadth of her, she could barely breathe. His masculine scent of forest and mountain breezes enveloped her, and she grew almost heady from it.

  She swallowed, trying to maintain her bravado. “What’s your name?”

  “Hawk.” He reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. His caress felt so warm and electric that awareness traveled unbidden from her scalp to her toes. “And you are Silver.”

  Of course, he would know. He was D’Danann, one of the strongest beings in Otherworld. But what did he want with her?

  She straightened her jacket, cleared her throat, trying to ignore this strange magnetic hold he had on her. “What did you come to warn me about?”

  “The Great Guardian of the Elves has Seen the Balorite Clan delving into magic beyond their control,” he said, drawing his hand from her cheek, and suddenly she felt lonely, bereft of his touch.

  Silver narrowed her gaze. “But Elves have no interest in human affairs.”

  “The Elves have something at stake in this matter,” Hawk said. “I do not know what it is, but it is important you learn what I have come to warn you about.”

  Her thoughts went back to what he had said earlier. “What are the Balorites attempting?”

  The D’Danann warrior crossed his arms over his massive chest “Darkwolf is being influenced by Balor, the God of Death. Soon, the Balorites will summon our old enemies, the former sea gods.”

  “The Fomorii?” Her eyes went wide at the mention of the beasts of Ireland, dark gods of old who had been banished by the D’Danann to Underworld.

  Balor had led the Fomorii in the battle to take over Ireland. After the Sun God, Lugh, had defeated Balor in combat by striking out his single eye with a golden slingshot, Balor had vanished.

  The D’Danann proceeded to defeat the Fomorii. God status had been stripped from the creatures and they had subsequently been turned into demons for their crimes. The fiends were to roam beneath the world’s oceans and lakes forevermore, paying for their many evils.

  Silver’s skin chilled. “The Balorites are calling the demons here, to this city? That’s impossible.”

  Hawk shook his head, his long dark hair brushing his shoulders. “You had best use your abilities, Seer, to convince your Coven to act against them.”

  Silver moved her hand to her forehead as the enormity of what he was saying sank in. Her gaze shot up to meet his eyes—eyes that were as amber as the stones on the jewelry she wore. “The D’Danann, will they come to our aid?”

  He paused for a moment. “The Chieftains will not evaluate the situation unless the D’Danann are called upon. Summoned. You must try.”

  “Why did you come to me?” Silver studied him. “Why not to our high priestess?”

  “Because the Great Guardian believes only you will listen,” he said quietly. “Only you allow your conscience to rule, to lean to the gray like the Elves. Convince your Coven.”

  “The D’Anu belief is strong—passed down through the centuries.” Silver pushed her hand from her face in a distracted movement. “Summoning beings from Otherworld could prove to be our ruin. It is forbidden. We can’t.”

  “You must.” Hawk reached out and gripped her upper arms, his gaze intense. “The old beliefs must be suspended, or your kind will perish.”

  “They’ll never buy it.” Silver noticed how firm yet gentle his grip was, and she had the strangest feeling, like she could melt into his embrace. She cleared her throat. “The D’Anu are so blessed dogmatic when it comes to the Coven’s doctrines.”

  “You must,” he repeated, lightly squeezing her arms.

  Silver bit her lower lip before saying, “If I’m going to try, I have to have some kind of proof.”

  “Use your Seer’s powers.” Hawk trailed his hands down her jacket sleeves, and a shiver traced her spine just before he released her. “Find a way to convince them.”

  “Why don’t you come with me?” If a Fae warrior couldn’t convince them, who could?

  “I was able to cross worlds to warn you only because the Great Guardian opened a temporary window. It is time for me to leave now.”

  His expression had turned from one of concern to something she couldn’t read. “I will not be able to return in time to help you unless you perform a summoning.” With that he stepped back. His wings unfurled and slowly opened and closed. “Go before it is too late.”

  Hawk gave her a slight bow, then looked over his shoulder. To Silver’s amazement, the apparition of a tall, beautiful woman stood behind him, motioning for him to come to her. She had long glorious hair and ethereal features that all but glowed in the night.

  One of the Elves. She has to be.

  With one last look at Silver, Hawk turned and walked toward the woman. While Silver watched, his body dissolved into so many sparkles.

  In a mere blink, he was gone.

  2

  Otherworld

  * * *

  The unfamiliar sensation of crossing throug
h the veil sizzled through Hawk’s body as he arrived back in Otherworld and faced the Great Guardian. He had to steady himself to maintain his footing.

  It was daylight here, but the sun was mild in the middle of the forest. A breeze buffeted his body and he yearned to take to the skies now, to feel the wind beneath his wings.

  He had returned to the exact location he had left from, at the center of an ancient transference point. Elvin runes had long ago been carved around the circular platform made of a stone like gray marble, only far stronger, far more enduring.

  Normally veils could only be crossed by the Elves during special times through the year, such as the solstice or equinox. But they could also travel through doorways—over ancient bridges or beneath great mounds of earth—none of which led to Silver’s San Francisco.

  However, the Great Guardian had made this trip possible with the use of the transference stone which he now stood upon. Only a being with Elvin blood and very strong magic could use the stone to guide another to Otherworlds. It was not frequently used as the Elves preferred to use existing doorways.

  Taking Fae across had never been done. Until today.

  Summonings were the only alternative to crossing through the veils—unless one was at least part Elvin. Hawk was not.

  The Guardian waited patiently for him to fully materialize. As always, she wore a look of serenity on her beautiful features. She stood a few steps away, near a narrow footbridge spanning a small stream.

  The sound of running water trickling over stones and the breeze through the ancient trees was almost haunting.

  When he fully appeared, he drew his sword, knelt, and laid the weapon at her feet. Like all D’Danann weapons, it was made of the strongest and finest of metals, with no trace of iron—iron that could be deadly to Fae and Elves alike.

  The Guardian pressed her fingertips to the top of his head. “Rise, Hawk of the D’Danann.”

  He left the sword at her feet and moved several paces away, to look upon her grace and beauty.

  The Elvin woman was nearly as tall as he was. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white, and it hung straight and smooth, all the way to her feet. Her pointed ears peeked through strands of her hair and her skin was smooth, perfect. She appeared young, but the wisdom in her blue eyes spoke of knowledge that most likely went back to the dawn of time.

  Hawk gave her a respectful bow. “I have done as you bade, Guardian.”

  She approached, her steps so fluid it was as if she floated to him, over his sword. When she reached him she rested her slender fingers on his hand. Her scent of leaves and earth surrounded him. “You have served the greater good.” The warmth and power flowing through her voice and touch calmed him.

  He glanced toward the forest, in the direction of the Chieftains’ large gathering chamber. It was beyond his sight, but tension corded his muscles again at the fact he had gone without their knowledge. To take such an action was a punishable offense, but Hawk had tremendous faith in and felt such reverence for the Great Guardian.

  And after meeting the witch Silver, his heart told him the Guardian was again correct. The D’Danann must help the witches defeat the Fomorii.

  But will the witches be strong enough to fight as well?

  “The D’Anu are witches of the highest order,” the Guardian said, obviously reading his thoughts. “Direct descendants of the Ancient Druids, they are a race of beings unto their own, perhaps more compatible with beings from Otherworld than typical Earthbound humans. If a D’Anu mates with a human, her child will be either D’Anu or human, not both.”

  Hawk turned his gaze back to the ethereal beauty of the Guardian. “I fear the Chieftains will not find it in their hearts to intervene.”

  The Guardian simply smiled. “The first time the witch named Silver performs her summoning ceremony, you alone must go. The second time, other Enforcers will cross over.”

  He couldn’t help the doubt in his soul. His people were neutrally aligned. They did not interfere unless they believed what was occurring was against the natural order. “What if the Chieftains disagree?”

  “I have Seen.” She didn’t so much as raise her brow. “The battle will commence.”

  Hawk absently scrubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw. “Will you go to the Chieftains to convince them?”

  “You know I cannot.” A flicker of something passed across her features and was gone almost instantly. Annoyance perhaps? Sadness? “The Fae and Elves—it will be long before one will accept the other again. Anger and distrust runs deep and has for countless centuries.”

  Hawk gave a slow nod. “I trust your wisdom, Guardian.”

  For one moment, he saw Davina’s smile in the Guardian’s eyes and it made his heart ache. His dead wife had been part Elvin and part Fae, making her not wholly accepted by the D’Danann. And for that, he had never forgiven his own people. Because of Davina, Hawk had formed ties with the Elves that the D’Danann hierarchy barely tolerated.

  Davina’s mother had been Elvin, her father D’Danann— they had met in the woods when her father was hunting and her mother was walking through the forest searching for herbs. They had fallen in love, and despite the wishes of each race, and the fact that their races had never intermarried, they had handfasted and had conceived a daughter—Davina. She had grown up among the D’Danann, but only Hawk saw true to her heart and had loved her with all of his own.

  It was for Shayla, his own daughter, that he insisted on not severing the connection, as well as his own respect for the race of beings. The rivalry between Elves and Fae was unwarranted in Hawk’s eyes, but centuries of animosity were difficult to overcome at best, impossible at worst.

  Hawk took a deep breath. He had complete confidence in the Guardian. “I will do as you command.”

  “It is not my command.” The Guardian folded her hands together. “It is as I have Seen.”

  Without another word, she turned and slowly walked over the small footbridge. Halfway across, she vanished into the Elvin Otherworld.

  After retrieving and sheathing his sword, Hawk flew back to his village riding on the wind above the forest, breathing in the clean scents of pine and juniper that he preferred over the polluted air of the place he had visited. After their defeat by the Milesians, the D’Danann were sent to live in Otherworld, no longer Irish gods, but Fae living in their own sidhe.

  Countless races of Fae existed in Otherworld, but the D’Danann was the only warrior race among the Fae. While the Sprites, Faeries, Dryads, Pixies, Leprechauns, and other Fae beings were generally slight of build, small, and secretive, the D’Danann were large, powerful, and dominating. They had retained their god forms and their superior fighting ability once they left Ireland, but had been gifted by the goddess Dana with wings, the ability to cloak themselves, and near immortality.

  For a moment, Hawk soared above his village, watching the bustling activities as his people went about their daily business.

  There were hundreds of D’Danann living in the area surrounding the Otherworld village, a great many of them warriors. However, only a handful were members of the Enforcers sent to several Otherworlds, like Hawk.

  The D’Danann hierarchy consisted of lords and ladies of the court, along with the King and Queen of the warrior Fae. However, all followed the counsel of the Chieftains.

  Hawk grimaced. Usually.

  Life went on for the D’Danann much as it had for time on end. Below him the cobblestone street wound through the crowded village where smoke floated from chimneys carrying the scents of roasted fowl and baked bread.

  Wooden carts rolled over the cobblestones, wheels squeaking and rattling. Horses’ hooves rang against stone as they pulled carts filled with hay for animals or vegetables to market. Shops crowded against one another in the close-knit village that was kept sparkling clean by its inhabitants. Unlike the world he had visited this night, there was no garbage littering the streets or walkways, no stench of waste.

  A flash of anger sparked with
in Hawk as he flew past the grand Council Chambers and into the village. His frown deepened as his thoughts turned to the Chieftains. Of late they had become more and more conservative, refusing to involve themselves in wars they believed to be part of the natural order of things.

  He gritted his teeth. But the Fomorii—the Chieftains would have to realize it was unnatural to allow the demons to escape from Underworld.

  He touched down on the multihued cobblestones and folded his wings away as he approached the toymaker’s shop. He wanted to take home a surprise for his daughter.

  Before he could enter the shop, a large palm slapped his back, and Hawk turned to find Garrett behind him, his closest friend and ally.

  The two men grabbed one another’s forearms at the elbow in a firm handshake. The D’Danann greeting came from centuries ago when they lived among the Celts.

  They released one another and Garrett hitched his shoulder up against the doorway to the toymaker’s shop. Like Hawk he wore all black leather as befitted a D’Danann Enforcer. His blonde hair ruffled in the slight breeze and he wore the same carefree grin as he usually did. “Greetings, brother.” Garrett’s warm brown eyes appraised Hawk. “I have not seen you in the village or the training yards of late.”

  Hawk returned his friend’s smile, but his mind was too busy with thoughts of what was sure to be the coming war with the Fomorii. He gave a slight shrug. “I have been occupied.”

  Garrett jerked his head toward the alehouse. “By the look on your face, methinks you could use a bottle of ale—or many.”

  Hawk gave a single nod. Perhaps he could stop and clear his head—and share his news with his closest friend.

  After Hawk purchased a miniature poppet with dark feathered wings and long black hair like his daughter, he carried the cloth bag with him into the darkened alehouse where he met up with Garrett at a table in the corner. He set the bag on the rectangular table and climbed over the bench to sit before his friend. The alehouse smelled of roasted pork, turkey, and fresh baked bread. Hawk’s stomach rumbled.