The Forbidden

by Cheyenne McCray

  She turned back to the stairs. “But right now there are more important things. Like saving my parents.”

  Hawk’s wings sliced through chill, wet San Francisco air as he led the other D’Danann toward the Fomorii’s lair at the hotel. Using mind-speak, Hawk briefed the others on what had happened and their current mission. With their magic, they were cloaked from human sight, but could still see one another.

  “Foolish,” Keir growled through their mind-link as they soared up and over a tall brown building. “These are but two of many lives to save. We need to make plans. We need the others.”

  Before Hawk could respond, Sher said, “Keir is right. You know that, Hawk.”

  Garrett just gave Hawk a look of support.

  “We must save them.” Hawk practically yelled in mind- speak as they dodged a church spire. “They are two of the most powerful of their kind. More importantly, they are Silver’s parents. I know she has lost her sister as well, and her Coven. Another unbearable pain might kill her spirit.”

  There was no time left to argue as they arrived at the hotel. A yellow vehicle was pulled up to the curb. Only a short red carpet beneath a striped awning separated the car from the hotel doors.

  No doubt it was two Fomorii posing as men who wrestled with the large, bulky, and unconscious Victor Ashcroft, trying to drag his body from the vehicle. The male witch was half in, half out of the cab.

  When he glanced through the back window of the car, Hawk saw Moondust wasn’t there. Fury rocked him. The Fomorii already had Silver’s mother in their lair.

  The D’Danann attacked, their hands turning into deadly claws which they used to rip away the awning. Unfortunately the D’Danann could not remain cloaked when in battle, so the Fomorii could easily see who their attackers were.

  It took a single rake of Hawk’s nails to tear the throat of one of the Fomorii in his human form, beheading him at the same time. As the man dropped, his body shifted into a Fomorii demon. Blood spurted across the red carpet and onto the sidewalk as the body pitched forward. The head was flung against the window of the hotel, leaving a splatter and a blood slick as it slid down the glass pane and dropped to the ground, before crumbling away.

  Screams rent the air. Hawk spared a glance to see two human women across the street, and heard more screams coming from inside the hotel.

  He didn’t have another second to think about onlookers, or how to retrieve Victor Ashcroft from the car. Two more demons bounded from the hotel and attacked the D’Danann.

  “Command our retreat,” Keir demanded of Hawk as they battled. “We cannot fight them now.”

  “Destroy these bastards. Save Silver’s father.” Hawk dove, sword drawn, avoiding claws. Tried to slice his weapon across a beast’s neck, but missed.

  From somewhere came a woman’s sharp, eager laughter. The sound chilled Hawk even in the heat of the fight. He spun to slay the demon attacking him, but missed again. When the beast’s claws swiped at him, he saw sunlight gleam off the tips. A foul magical aura surrounded those tips.

  “What in the name of—” Hawk wheeled in the air to find Garrett.

  Garrett was battling with his usual skill and finesse, his sword flashing a brilliant hue as he lunged for one of the demons.

  The Fomorii swiped at Garrett in a movement so fast it caught the D’Danann off guard. The demon snatched Hawk’s friend from the air by one leg, sinking those shiny, magic-infested claws into Garrett’s leg and yanking him down.

  “Gods!” Garrett shouted as he tried to push himself back into the air. “Their claws. Watch out for their claws!”

  Garrett gave a fierce warrior cry. He sliced his sword across the Fomorii’s throat, where its skin was thinnest. The demon was not beheaded. Its throat instantly healed.

  Hawk had the disturbing sense that Garrett was fighting the demon who had laughed that hideous-bitch laughter. He folded his wings and plunged toward Garrett.

  Garrett shouted as he tried to fly up. Tried to push himself away from the Fomorii and the melee. He should have been able to escape. But just as he rose, another enormous demon gave a loud roar. The beast pounced on Garrett, burying him beneath its bulk and digging claws into Garrett’s chest Claws that once more flashed a magical metallic glint

  Iron, Hawk knew instantly, pulling up hard. Bonded to the tips with magic. Iron. Gods!

  Garrett cried out and was pinned beneath the massive beast.

  A roar echoed down the street.

  Iron-tipped claws drove into Garrett’s chest, plunging deep. With a sickening pop, the demon ripped out his heart. It pulsed in the sunlight, and for a moment Garrett stared at it in horror as the demon crammed the heart into its hideous mouth.

  Then Garrett’s body went slack. His eyes closed and a silver glow encased his body. He shimmered. Silver sparkles swirled from where his body had been, sending his soul on to Summerland.

  Horror, shock, then fury burned Hawk’s belly. Intent on revenge, he dove for the demon that had slaughtered Garrett.

  By all the gods, he was going to kill the bitch that had murdered his friend.

  Sher and Keir swooped in Hawk’s way. Forced him back with their powerful arms and wings.

  “Listen to me!” Keir mind-shouted. “There are too many. We are too few."

  “It is too late for Garrett,” Sher said.

  Hawk’s vision was crimson. Keir’s words barely penetrated his rage and the blood pounding in his ears. The other two D’Danann shoved him back, farther from the carnage. From his side vision he watched the Fomorii take out the spectators, slitting their throats with quick swipes of their claws and dragging them into the hotel. The bastards would feast well tonight, no doubt.

  There would be no witnesses.

  He’d failed Silver; her parents had been captured.

  And Garrett was dead.

  22

  With a purr of satisfaction, Junga strolled across the ballroom floor in her human form. She paced to and fro before the still unconscious Moondust and Victor Ashcroft, relishing her victory.

  In this, she had not failed.

  Well, the victory was both hers and Darkwolf’s. The warlock’s vision had led them to the parents of Silver Ashcroft. But it was Junga’s warriors that had made the capture.

  Now that she had Silver’s parents, Junga would find a way to blackmail them into turning to sorcery to summon more Fomorii. She intended to exploit the Ashcrofts’ powers, and would use them to lure Silver to her. The Ashcrofts certainly wouldn’t want to see their precious little bitch die.

  Darkwolf was equally certain Silver was so close to the dark, teetering on the brink, that with another push or two, he would be able to turn her. After what he had witnessed in his visions and in person, he believed she alone had the power of a host of witches. Her strength would give them what they needed to summon the balance of the Fomorii come Samhain.

  While her warrior captains watched Junga’s stride, her movements were deliberately sexual. She was excited, and what humans would call “horny.” She knew she could have her pick of any male in the host.

  But today she wanted something...more.

  She paused and studied her human fingernails. Just moments before she had been in her demon form and had raked her own powerful claws through the D’Danann warrior. The magically bonded iron—perfection. The bastard hadn’t known what hit him.

  His heart had been delicious. There was nothing like the taste of D’Danann blood to fill her with satisfaction. It had been eons since she’d had the opportunity to feast on D’Danann.

  Slowly she faced the Balorite warlock who had so effectively used his Seer’s powers to let them know about the arrival of Silver’s parents and had helped plan their capture.

  Darkwolf was considered handsome for a human, and Junga shuddered with lust at the thought of what it was like to be taken by him again and again. She reached up to touch his face and scraped one sharp nail down the warlock’s cheek. Desire flared in his eyes and she knew he wanted
to take her again. To dominate her completely.

  “I am very pleased,” she said, and moved her lips closer to his. “You have done exceedingly well.”

  She brought her other hand to his jean-covered member and squeezed. She was gratified at his body’s immediate response, and delighted she had such power over him. He was even larger than Bane, his erection thick and fulfilling. His expression grew tight as she cupped him.

  Darkwolf leaned forward and murmured in her ear. “You will be punished.”

  Junga shivered. Licked her lips. Tried to regain her control. Maybe she shouldn’t do this. She needed to be in complete control of herself at all times.

  But this human sex—by Balor, she had to do it at least one more time.

  Junga released Darkwolf and glanced at the remaining witches in the ballroom, most of whom had yet to give in to her demands to aid them in the summoning. “Convince these witches their lives will be short if they do not aid me,” she said to Hur, one of her head warriors.

  Hur gave a stiff nod and attended to her orders.

  She turned to Bane and Darkwolf. “I have matters to discuss with you both.”

  The corner of the Balorite priest’s mouth curved into a knowing smile and Bane gave a deep nod as a look of satisfaction sparked in his eyes.

  Junga led the way from the well-guarded ballroom, through the lobby, and into the elevator.

  The moment they were alone, the elevator doors closed behind them, Darkwolf and Bane took immediate control of Junga.

  She didn’t have time to react.

  Junga’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head at the feel of male hands all over her body. By Balor, these humans had such sensitive skin. She felt every touch, every lick of their tongues, every stroke of their callused hands over her soft flesh.

  Junga couldn’t stop moaning and squirming. She wanted to control the moment, but she could do nothing but feel, and groan, and wriggle. Her entire body felt wild with desire.

  The bell dinged, indicating they were at the penthouse floor. Darkwolf grabbed her to him. He kissed her so hard he bruised her lips. He carried her to the penthouse suite, his hands everywhere as he bit her bottom lip. Hard enough to make her cry out.

  The frightening thing was she did desire this mastery from him and Bane.

  When they were in the suite, the door closed behind them, Darkwolf set her on her feet. Bane grabbed her by her hair. “You are like your father Kae. You are not a leader. You want to be dominated. To be taken again and again.”

  Heat rushed through Junga, heat of anger, heat of embarrassment, heat of lust. She could do nothing, say nothing.

  It wasn’t true. She wasn’t weak.

  The men took complete control, handling her in ways she never thought she would let anyone touch her.

  Her mind whirled and spun as they brought her to climax after climax. She felt herself starting to pitch into that black abyss, that place she’d vanished into the time before.

  Fear rocked her.

  She pushed her dark hair from her face as she tried to pull herself together. She looked at Darkwolf. A dominant expression crossed the warlock’s features.

  Darkwolf’s cruel smile horrified her—

  And excited her in new, dangerous ways.

  23

  Fury seared Silver’s veins and fear pumped through her heart. The Fomorii had captured her parents! She could not focus on the fact that Cassia was not who Silver thought she was, about how all the pieces fit together. To hell with the puzzle. To hell with everything.

  She needed to help the D’Danann get her parents back.

  Silver snatched her car keys off the key hook, and jogged down the stairs. She started to head through the back door, when Jake Macgregor walked in. The second he saw her expression, the way she clutched her keys in her hand and the tightness of her jaw, he grabbed her by the shoulders.

  “Whoa. What’s going on here?” he asked in his cop voice, which pissed her off.

  She tried to jerk away from his hold. But he was too strong. She considered a little spellfire, but went for explaining what had happened instead, in as few words as possible.

  “The Fomorii have my parents.” She ground her teeth and her hands started to shake. “Hawk and three other D’Danann went after Mother and Father. I’m going to help.”

  “There are more of those winged guys now?” Jake shook his question off. “No way I’m going to let you go by yourself. You might be magically strong, Silver, but I can’t let you tear off after them like this.”

  Through gritted teeth. Silver said, “Let. Me. Go.”

  Her rage was pushing her to use her magic, almost as if some voice in her head was daring her to cast a harmful spell in anger. Just a little damage. Just a little step across that oh-so-thin little line.

  “I’m not turning you loose.” His voice was cold, his expression fierce. “You know as well as I do that you can’t go off half-cocked. You need to figure out a plan.”

  Would it be dark magic to knee him in the groin? Silver thought not. Only her affection for the man kept her leg from moving. “We’re talking about my mother and father. There’s no time.”

  The back door to the kitchen opened again, forcing Jake and Silver to stumble away from it. Keir and Sher strode through, their wings tucked away beneath their leather shirts. They both smelled of sweat, blood and battle, and the rotten fish stench of the Fomorii. Silver saw Jake’s hand move to rest on his gun.

  “Did you get Mother and Father?” she asked, her voice trembling. This time Jake let her go as she pushed herself away and went to the two D’Danann. “Are they all right?”

  Keir’s expression was so fierce the powerful warrior could have slain a host of demons with one glance.

  Sher moved in front of Keir. “The demons took your family into their lair,” she said.

  Blood drained from Silver’s face. She could feel it sliding from her head to her toes. “Were they alive?”

  The D’Danann woman laid her hand upon Silver’s forearm and squeezed. “I believe so.”

  Silver swallowed and for the first time realized the other two warriors were not in the room. “Where are Hawk and Garrett?”

  Sher glanced at Keir, whose expression went impossibly harsher, and then she said, “Garrett is dead.”

  Silver grew so light-headed that she stumbled back and was vaguely aware of Jake helping her to a seat at the kitchen table. “And Hawk?” she whispered.

  The scarred warrior growled and Sher elbowed him—hard by the look of it. “Hawk is none the worse for the battle. But he blames himself for Garrett’s death.” She paused and moistened her lips. “Hawk did not return with us—I believe he needs time alone. Garrett was his closest friend.”

  For a long moment everything was quiet in the kitchen, save for the harsh breathing of the warriors and the tick of the ancient clock hanging over the sink.

  Everything was too, too much. Silver did the only thing she could at that moment. She buried her face in her hands and cried.

  Hours later. Silver stared out the window of her apartment, waiting for Rhiannon to come in. Silver’s eyes still ached, her head ached, and her heart ached.

  With her parents taken hostage along with all the other witches and Hawk still not back, she was crazy with worry, crazy with the need to take action. She hadn’t been able to sit still.

  If not for all the hotel guests and the witches, she would search for some spell to bring down that damned hotel on the demons’ heads.

  Stop thinking like that. It’s dangerous. That would be sorcery—even if my intentions are pure. The corruption would be immediate, and I’d be lost.

  She began pacing the room as if to distance herself from the steadily rising temptation to draw on more power, to seek a source of magic that would guarantee her success. First Copper. Then her Coven. Two PSF officers’ deaths. Now her parents were taken and Hawk’s friend dead—how much more devastation would they be forced to endure?

  Maybe
just a few spells. Just across the line. A little stronger. A little more forceful.

  No. No. No. I won’t. But...

  She nearly tripped over Polaris. She picked up the python, and it curled around her arm like the snake bracelet on her opposite wrist. Her familiar gave her a reproachful stare, making her realize she’d been hopping around like a half-crazed rabbit.

  “Where is Hawk?” she asked Polaris as she stroked his head. He stuck his tongue out at her and she frowned. “You’re such a jealous male.”

  She clenched her fist in a lock of her hair and yanked it as she tried to hold back more tears. She wanted to cry because another life had been taken. Her heart ached for Hawk, who had lost his best friend.

  Silver wanted to cry and scream for her parents. Run out and find them herself right this minute. She would try if it weren’t for the D’Danann, Jake, and the other witches standing guard over the shop to make sure she didn’t leave.

  She let Polaris slink back onto the floor. Blessed goddess, why couldn’t witches fly? Appear and disappear at will?

  A knock at the door, then the knob turned and Rhiannon poked her head around the door before walking in and shutting it behind her. Her loose, flowing skirts swirled around her legs. She wore her usual bright-colored clothing, her dress in layers of lemon yellow and turquoise. In her arms she carried Spirit.

  Polaris flicked his tongue out at Spirit. The cat hissed.

  “Sorry I’m late.” Rhiannon wore a concerned expression on her pretty face, and her amber hair swung forward with every movement she made. The scars on her cheek were healing, but Silver was still uncertain if they would ever fully be gone. “Iris is such a basket case.”

  Silver hugged Rhiannon and Spirit gave an annoyed cry between them. The cat bounded out of Rhiannon’s arms and jumped to the floor, then scampered past Polaris.

  Rhiannon’s embrace and light citrus scent comforted Silver in a time when she needed comfort. How it pained her that she would have to send Rhiannon away, when she needed her friend. But she would be safer this way, anyway.