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.
“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.