“What is it?” Rhiannon cocked her head as they drew apart. Sunlight from the window highlighted the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and glinted on the small gold and onyx pentagram at her throat.
“I need you to go to the other D’Anu Covens.” Silver caught Rhiannon’s fingers with her own. “You can convince them to send help.”
Rhiannon blinked, then an adamant expression crossed her face and she raised her tone. “I’m not leaving you to fight the Fomorii alone.”
“I’m not alone.” Silver gave a deep sigh. “But I feel—I am certain that we need more D’Anu to aid us.”
This time Rhiannon shook her head, her amber hair swinging about her cheeks. “Send Eric or Mackenzie. Iris even.” She paused and gave an almost-smile. “Er, not Iris. The woman is such a wuss.”
Silver resisted a laugh at Rhiannon’s accurate description of the D’Anu witch who had been mumbling about dark sorcery ever since she arrived and refused to go anywhere near the D’Danann.
“You have the strength of spirit we need to convince the D’Anu.” Silver squeezed Rhiannon’s fingers before releasing them. “You have experienced the horrors of being captured by the demons. You know what we’re going through and how much we need aid.”
Rhiannon shook her head again and took a step back from Silver. “I’m in for the fight.”
Silver closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger before releasing it and dropping her hand to look at her friend again. “Believe me. I can’t think of anyone I’d like better fighting at my side. But this is more important, and I think you’re the only one capable of the task.”
Rhiannon hugged herself and rubbed her arms as if a sudden chill had come over her. “It isn’t right.”
“It is.” Silver brushed her sweating palms on her jeans. “Do this for me. For all of us. Please?”
For a long moment Rhiannon simply studied her. Silver practically held her breath, waiting for her friend’s answer.
Silver felt a small presence, and looked down to see Spirit wrapping himself around Rhiannon’s ankles, just below her flowing broomstick skirt.
Rhiannon looked at her familiar and frowned. “Not you, too?”
Spirit gave a loud mewl and planted himself on his haunches in front of Rhiannon. He mewled again and Rhiannon slowly nodded.
Polaris rose up from beside Silver and gazed intently at Rhiannon.
She lifted her head and looked at Silver. “Just know that this is under duress. I can’t fight all of you.”
“I’ll give you the Coven’s credit card.” Silver hid her relief from her friend. “You’ll need it for airfare and food.”
“Janis will likely kill us both.”
Silver snorted. “As long as you’re getting other D’Anu, and keeping to the white, what can she say?” Her eyes lost focus for a moment as she looked away. “Me, I’ve already been judged and condemned for the gray magic I’ve used right in front of her pointy nose.”
“Surely she isn’t that stupid.” Rhiannon said. “She’s got to know that everything you’ve done has been for the good.”
Silver gave a little smile. “That’s the problem with gray magic. The more you use it, the more you feel the call of the dark. The more you think you can use it for the good. I feel like I’m in a constant battle for my soul.”
Rhiannon planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t believe for a minute you’d ever, ever cross.”
Spirit yowled. Polaris hissed. Whether it was in agreement with Silver or Rhiannon, Silver couldn’t tell.
When Rhiannon left to pack, Silver realized she needed to center herself. She walked to the middle of her living room, straightened her stance, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She raised her hands high overhead and imagined herself a great white oak. Her roots delved through the apartment floor, down through the floor of the shop until they hit dirt.
They spread deep, deep, into the center of the Earth, seeking cool soil, crystal water.
Her arms, spread wide, became branches in her mind. Her branches extended up through the ceiling of her apartment, through the roof and into the sky. They soared through the fog until reaching healing sunshine.
It was unusually difficult this time, but then, she’d never had such horrors in her life before. When she felt reasonably grounded, she said, “Ancestors, please aid me in recovering those lost. In sending back to exile the demons who are murdering witches and humans alike.” Her words turned into a desperate plea. “What must I do? Please send me a sign.”
Nothing happened.
Silver quavered with the force of her need for guidance. The image of her oak leaves trembling filled her mind’s eye.
“Please, my Ancestors,” she whispered.
Doubt in herself and her abilities twisted like a cold ritual sword through her belly. She imagined soft rain falling on oak leaves and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. The Ancestors weren’t answering her call. What was she supposed to do now?
Outside her apartment door, boot steps thumped in the hallway. She was jolted out of her trance and in her mind withdrew her branches and roots until she was fully within herself again.
With no doubt that it was Hawk on the other side of her door, Silver practically flew to it and wrenched it open to see him standing there, so real, so masculine.
Perhaps he was the Ancestors’ answer to her pleas.
“Hawk!” She threw herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight. He smelled of wind and fog—and of Fomorii and blood, a smell that caused her to shudder at the thought of what he’d tolerated.
Slowly he lowered his arms and wrapped her in his embrace, but seemed reluctant. They stood in the doorway for a moment before he pushed her away, setting her apart from him. Wounded, Silver studied Hawk’s impassive features, trying to see some emotion in his expression, trying to sense what he was feeling.
She got absolutely nothing.
He was completely blocked off to her, distant and frozen. Like a stranger.
Silver’s heart twisted harder than ever. Her friends, her parents, now Hawk. She felt as if a part of herself were being stolen and locked away, leaving her lonely inside. Would she be completely empty or dead before this battle ended?
* * *
Hawk wanted to take Silver right back into his arms and hold her forever. But he could no longer allow himself to become too close to anyone. It was his fault Garrett had been murdered. Davina had died because he hadn’t been there to protect her. He wouldn’t take those same risks with Silver.
By the gods, who would have thought the Fomorii would find a way to battle them with iron? They could wield no swords. But with their enhanced claws—they would be far more formidable opponents.
Silver remained silent as he walked into the apartment and away from her. Away from her warmth, her sweet scent of lilies and woman. Away from the way she made his heart ache with an undefined need every time he was close to her.
He came up short when he saw Polaris curled up on the armchair. The snake hissed at him, its wicked black eyes glinting. Hawk growled, wanting to take his sword and dice the creature into tiny pieces.
From behind him, Silver said softly, “I’m sorry about Garrett.”
He bowed his head and rubbed his temples where blood pounded with anger again. Anger at the demons for murdering Garrett.
But mostly he was furious at himself. Keir was right. If it wasn’t for Hawk’s foolishness, his recklessness, Garrett would be alive.
“Hawk.” She came up beside him where he could see her lovely face, feel her warmth again, feel that ache again.
Silver laid her fingers on his arm and the silver snake on her hand and wrist glittered in the low lighting. How ironic that the one creature he feared was the totem of this beautiful woman.
She had simply bewitched him. Her beauty, her passion, her courage, her strength, her determination, her compassion. Everything about her called to
him in ways he had never imagined possible.
In an instant his thoughts turned back to his first and only meeting with Moondust mere hours ago. Recognition had flashed through him the moment he saw her eyes and her Elvin features. He had been certain she was more than a witch—that she, too, was other. When she had taken him aside and spoke to him, he had agreed to hold his peace for now.
But what did that mean about Silver?
Was she other, too?
“I’ve come up with a plan.” He held emotion from his tone and kept his expression flat. “We need a large, open space to draw out the Fomorii on Samhain. We can’t fight them indoors or in confined locations. It makes the D’Danann too vulnerable if we don’t have room to fly.”
Silver took her hand from his arm and pushed the heavy fall of hair from her face. “Golden Gate Park. It’s south of us, not too far away.”
He slowly nodded. It took all his strength to resist touching her, holding her.
Choking back a sigh of need, Silver went toward him, needing his embrace, his comfort
Hawk shook his head and stepped back. “I cannot,” he said, then turned and strode out the door.
For a long moment, Silver stood and looked at the door, her heart in her throat. Why did she crave his embrace so much? Need to have his shoulder to lean on?
No, he was right. The focus had to be on battle plans. Not desire. Not need.
She swallowed. No emotional need of any kind.
October 28
24
Silver twirled her fork in her noodles while she sat in the shop’s kitchen and waited for Hawk to meet her, then let the noodles fall away from the tines.
Rhiannon had already packed and left on a flight to San Diego last night, the first stop on her way to visit each of the twelve other Covens. Spirit had accompanied her, none too pleased at being forced to travel in the cat carrier.
Eric and Cassia were working in the shop and the café, and Silver was alone.
She abandoned the noodles and stabbed at a piece of zucchini-cranberry bread over and over again, turning it into nothing but a pile of crumbles as she thought about getting rid of the demons. How they were going to send the Fomorii back to Underworld would present a huge problem.
The Fomorii planned on summoning a great number of demons on Samhain, from what Rhiannon said. Now if the witches and the D’Danann were to turn the tables on the Fomorii, call them out on Samhain and defeat them in battle, then they could send the Fomorii back to Underworld.
She stopped attacking the bread as she mentally went over their plan.
It took her awhile to turn her thoughts back to the present. She fought the desire to grab her car keys, head out to Bitty, drive over to where the demons had her parents, and blast the hell out of all of them with her magic.
But that would be stupid and reckless and she would probably be captured, too. Then where would she be? Completely unable to help her own people.
She dropped the fork to her plate and pushed away from the table, the chair’s legs squeaking on the old tiled floor. The kitchen smelled of warm spices and the special lunch Cassia had prepared earlier—noodles in faerie butter, asparagus salad, zucchini-cranberry bread, and honor cake for dessert.
Silver had mostly scooted her food around the plate, although the food had been delicious. Since her parents’ abduction, she’d hardly been able to eat, and last night she barely got any sleep.
And Hawk hadn’t been there to hold her. To comfort her.
That’s not his job, she reminded herself forcefully as she tapped one sandal on the floor. He’s not my keeper.
She mentally shook off the thought of missing him last night. This was a war, not a lovefest. It was time she started acting more like a warrior herself.
“Ready, Silver?” Hawk walked in through the kitchen’s back door and closed it behind him.
She wanted to melt just from the sight of him, so handsome, so masculine. “I need to scout this Golden Gate Park,” he said.
“Sure.”
When she started to head for the door, he said almost hesitantly, as if he was embarrassed, “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Silver looked away from him and jerked open the back door. “You can tell me on the way—”
She came to an abrupt stop. Closed her eyes. Opened them again.
“Bitty!” Shock vibrated her at the sight of the formerly new vehicle’s battered form.
From where she was standing, she saw the car’s mangled fender. At least one headlight smashed. The hood crumpled. The right side mirror gone. The passenger side bludgeoned. Bright yellow paint scraped away, leaving cold gray metal beneath.
Jaw slack, she whirled to face Hawk. “My car!”
He looked like a teenager who’d been caught taking his parents’ sedan for a joy ride and had ended up wrecking it. “I had to get you home the night we summoned my comrades. Had to keep you warm. I had, ah, some difficulty driving your vehicle.”
“Some difficulty?” Silver almost whimpered when she looked again at her once beautiful VW Bug. When she turned to Hawk, she sighed. “Does it still run?”
He shifted, still looking guilty. “I believe so.”
With an inward groan, Silver strode out the door toward her wreck of a car. “Come on, then.”
Silver walked around the Bug. Bitty’s driver’s side was little better than the passenger’s. Metal creaked when she opened it, and Hawk had to yank the other door open. Grateful the handle didn’t come off in his hand with the power of his jerk, she slid into the driver’s seat.
The seat was as far back as it was possible to go—obviously to accommodate Hawk’s much larger size. She positioned it where it belonged, jammed the key into the ignition, pushed in the clutch, and turned the key. The car started immediately, with only a small shudder, but she could swear Bitty groaned from all its bumps and bruises.
My poor car!
When Hawk slid into Bitty, his intoxicating scent surrounded her. She couldn’t help the immediate ache within her. The desire to be with him.
For one long moment, they looked at each other. Silver almost reached out to Hawk, needing to feel his lips against hers, needing to taste him again.
Instead she glanced away and cleared her throat. “I hope my little Bug makes it,” she said as she backed out of the driveway.
Sitting so close to Silver, Hawk found he could barely breathe. Just being near her brought back all the longing, all the need for her. She smelled of lilies, soap, and pure woman. Her eyes darkened with such desire that his member stiffened painfully behind his breeches.
He turned his head and focused on the city as Silver’s car chugged up and down steep hills, into neighborhoods of homes stacked against one another, through rows of small businesses, near huge buildings that scraped the sky, and passed a trolley that clanged cheerfully in the foggy afternoon. With such heavy concerns on his mind, it was almost too much to process.
“Tell me about Otherworld,” Silver said as she drove, interrupting his thoughts.
Hawk looked at her profile. Such an adorable nose. Such perfect skin.
He cleared his throat. “Like your world, Otherworld varies depending on where you go. It is a magical place, no matter where one resides. The sidhe where I live is particularly beautiful.”
She kept her eye on the road. “What’s it like?”
With a shrug he looked out the window. “My daughter and I live in the forest with other D’Danann, as well as Fae of all kind.”
When he glanced back at Silver, she looked intrigued. “I have seen a bit of Otherworld in my visions, but truly not much. I would love to see more.”
He smiled. He could easily imagine her in his world. Could imagine showing her the places that were special to him. “It is a thing of beauty. Our homes are in the trees themselves.”
She spared him a quick look before turning her attention back to the road. “Homes in the trees. Fascinating.”
“The D’Danan
n made a trade with the Dryads. The use of their trees for protection against the Pixies, Brownies, and Gnomes. Their quarrel goes far beyond my memory. The D’Danann have no quarrel with any of those beings. We simply keep the peace among the rest of the Fae.”
He sighed. “Although at times that in itself is challenging. The Brownies are particularly mischievous and malevolent.”
“I know many of the Elementals who reside on Earth,” Silver said. “As far as I know they live in harmony.”
Hawk shifted in his seat thinking of the rivalry between Fae and Elves. “If it were so easy in Otherworld.”
“I am sure you miss your daughter.”
“Aye.” For a moment there was silence as he thought of his beautiful child. He slipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew the tiny poppet she had sent with him when he left. His fingers ran over the graceful if slightly crumpled wings.
“Is that your daughter’s?” He glanced up and his eyes met Silver’s gray ones for a quick moment before she turned her attention back to her driving.
“I gave it to her as a gift after I first met you.” He stroked the poppet’s black hair. “She insisted I bring it with me on this mission. A good luck token.”
Silver gave him a smile and he returned it to his pocket. She asked him about his childhood and he shared with her his youth, growing up near Ireland centuries ago.
When she pushed him further, he spoke of his family, his unbending father and his strict mother. And his friends. He even found the words to talk about his childhood adventures with Garrett, and his battles with Keir.
“That’s why you’re at each other’s throats most of the time,” she said as they crested a hill.
Hawk shrugged. There was more to it than simple childhood rivalries, but he didn’t want to discuss those aspects of his childhood and adult life.
When Hawk asked Silver about her own childhood, her mind turned back the pages in time—time so much shorter than Hawk’s centuries of living. How young she was compared to him.
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