Silver and Victor hurried to Moondust. Victor gathered her in his arms and Silver held her trembling hands.
Tears rolled down Victor’s face as he struggled to heal his wife. Silver held back choking sobs as she gripped her mother’s hands.
The wound was too serious. Nothing could be done for her, no matter what magic they attempted. The iron was eating her heart.
Around them Silver heard the sounds of battle. She didn’t care about anything but her mother.
Moondust’s words rose in a bubbling gasp as she spoke. “Victor, Silver’s right. Gray magic was needed—is needed— to save our people.”
“No.” Silver shook her head. “He was right. I should never have used it.”
Moondust gave a weak smile. “Victor, you will explain.”
He nodded and spoke through his tears. “Yes, my love.”
Silver crumpled against her father as he rocked Moondust tight to his chest. “Please don’t die,” Silver cried. “I love you. Please don’t die.”
“I love you, too, my sweet one.” Moondust reached out a cold hand and squeezed Silver’s arm. “Find Copper,” she whispered. “Find the other part of my heart.”
Silver nodded, her vision blurred with tears. “I promise, Mother.”
Moondust’s gaze turned to Victor. “You have always been the witch of my dreams,” she said in halting words.
A droplet of his tears trickled onto her forehead as he bent to press his lips to her temple. “Travel well, my heart. I will meet you in Summerland.”
Moondust gave a weak nod and her expression was serene as she smiled. “In Summerland, my love.”
Her eyelids drifted closed. In moments Silver sensed her mother’s spirit leaving, slipping away to wait for her family on another plane.
And then she was gone, like the D’Danann, her body sparkled, but more of a crystal white.
Moondust’s body disappeared.
Silver stared in complete shock for a moment. Her mother’s body had vanished.
It was all true. Her mother was part Elvin.
With a sob Silver embraced her father. For what seemed moments on end, Silver and Victor clung to each other, unable to let go.
Before Silver had the chance to truly grieve for her mother, a strong hand gripped her shoulder and she was yanked to her feet.
The motion sent her spinning around to face Darkwolf.
The warlock’s grip was hot and the fire of lust raged in his eyes. She’d never been this close to him, just inches away, and the power he exuded was almost more than she could fight. His scent was of sandalwood, and from the stone on the chain around his neck she caught the smell of aged rock and earth. More than anything, she sensed its evil—powerful and dark.
Silver gritted her teeth and jerked her arm hard, trying to escape his grasp. His fingers dug into her skin and she flinched from the pain of it.
A shimmering spellshield surrounded them, blocking her and Darkwolf from all that was happening in the meadow.
PSF officers blew holes the size of cannonballs through Fomorii with the incredible fire power they had brought with them, but the demons couldn’t be killed unless their hearts were hit dead-on, or their heads exploded or were severed from their necks.
D’Danann fought demons with daggers, swords, and other weapons. Many of the Fomorii fled with D’Danann and PSF officers chasing them through the wooded area.
Hawk moved up to Silver and Darkwolf. Fury creased his features and his amber eyes glowed with such anger as Silver had never seen in him before.
“Release Silver.” Hawk growled as he dropped his sword and drew his dagger. “Now.”
Darkwolf simply smiled. “Attack if you will, D’Danann bastard. But know that Silver Ashcroft is mine.”
Hawk roared and drove his dagger straight at the heart of the warlock. His weapon came in contact with the spellshield. When his dagger bounced off the force field, the strength of his own attack drove him backward to land on unforgiving earth.
“This is my fight, Hawk.” Silver turned her glare on the warlock who had her in his grasp.
Her heart pounded and her eyes still ached with tears for Moondust. More than anything she felt fury at this man who had ultimately caused her mother’s death.
Pain shot through her broken ribs as she brought her knee up toward Darkwolf’s groin.
Darkwolf blocked her knee, but his eyes narrowed as Silver whipped the remaining stiletto out of her boot and pressed the point into Darkwolf’s abdomen.
“I should gut you.” Silver pressed the dagger harder into his taut stomach. Her gaze never flinched from his, and the sight of his smile made her push harder. “You bastard.”
“You won’t,” he said so softly that it startled her. “You would never hurt me.”
“The hell I wouldn’t—” she started just as his eyes grew darker, his gaze mesmerizing her. And then she was melting, softening like clay.
Darkwolf wrapped his palm around the hilt of the dagger pressed to his stomach and wrenched it from her grasp. He tore it away so powerfully that he twisted her wrist. He flung the stiletto to the grass at their feet.
He pushed his other hand into her hair and let the strands slip through his fingers. “I have dreamed of touching you since the first vision I had of you,” he whispered in her mind. “I will slide between your beautiful thighs and take you until you scream my name.”
The shiver that ran through Silver at his touch both aroused her and infuriated her.
He’s using magic to make me feel this way. Fight, Silver. Fight!
Trying to shake herself from his mental grasp, she imagined steel doors slamming down, one after another in her mind. Her body trembled and sweat beaded on her upper lip from the force of her effort. He was so strong. So very strong.
When his expression of lust shifted to anger, Silver felt a break in his hold on her. He grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her against his firmly muscled torso.
The slam of her chest against his sent agony screeching through her and brought more tears to her eyes. But she had power now. She could feel her witchcraft blossoming again within her.
Keeping her mind shielded from his, she clenched one hand. With all her anger at everything this warlock had caused, she slammed her fist into Darkwolf’s eye.
Her knuckles connected with bone and flesh, and pain shot through her hand. But it was nothing compared to the pleasure she felt as he cried out in clear surprise and pain.
He stumbled back a step, releasing her just that fraction of a moment she needed to move away. Her body hit the spellshield behind her, but her hands were up and already a crackling ball of energy grew between her palms.
Darkwolf dropped his hand from his eye, and no emotion could be read on his features. “You can’t hurt me, Silver. You won’t.”
“Wanna bet?” she said the moment she released the spellfire.
The power in her magic slammed Darkwolf up against the wall of his own force field.
His spellshield’s shimmer wavered.
Silver never paused. The second she released the first spellfire she prepared another. This one she flung above her, slamming it into the force field.
The shield dropped.
Hawk raised his dagger and charged.
For just that moment, when everything seemed to happen in slow motion, Silver saw Darkwolf smile at her.
He broke through her mental barriers. “I’m not finished with you.”
And then he was gone.
Vanished.
Hawk stumbled forward with the momentum of his attack. When his dagger struck nothing but air, he whirled, prepared to fight, but nothing was there.
Slowly Silver and Hawk looked at the carnage around them. Piles of dirt were scattered across the meadow. Two PSF officers lay sprawled upon the grass, blood pouring from their bodies.
Silver had no idea how many Fomorii had escaped, but the few that remained were guarded well, and stood within a ring of witches. The Fomorii growled and threatened to advance, but the presence of the D’Danann and the PSF officers with cannon guns held them back.
Mortimer perched on Janis’s shoulder, and they both looked at Silver with unfathomable expressions. Silver knew that despite the outcome, because of the force she’d used with her gray magic, she was in deep shit. Just how deep, she didn’t know.
Mackenzie and Cassia approached Silver and Hawk and took them each by the hand.
“It’s time.” Mackenzie brushed tears from Silver’s cheeks with her fingers. “Time to send the remaining beasts back to where they came from.”
Silver swallowed hard at the realization that both Junga and Darkwolf had escaped.
And the Balorite warlocks—what had happened to them?
Had they escaped the water? Or had they the power to vanish as Darkwolf had?
“Such a tantalizing power that would be,” purred Darkwolf’s voice in her mind.
He was near, but she could do nothing about him now.
Silver didn’t have time to ponder it any longer. They had to send back the remaining Fomorii to Underworld. She glanced at her father. Victor nodded and Silver took a deep painful breath.
Victor entered the circle of witches surrounding the beasts, and joined hands with Mackenzie. Janis Arrowsmith with Mortimer on her shoulder, gripped John Steed’s and another witch’s hands as she joined the circle.
Janis’s eyes were cold as she stared at Silver. Hard. Condemning.
Within moments the witches made a complete circle around the remaining demons.
Barely able to think through her anger and her grief. Silver clenched Cassia’s and Mackenzie’s hands as the D’Danann and PSF officers waited behind them.
Silver felt the power of the witches joining, building. The very air vibrated with it.
Electricity crackled through the air and Silver’s hair rose on her scalp. Power built within her, a different power from any she’d felt before.
Silver struggled to concentrate. Felt warmth in her pocket. She released Cassia’s hand long enough to fish out the tiny red flame from the dragon and slowly set it on the grass in front of her and Cassia.
The flame grew brighter and brighter, taller and fiercer. Yet Silver felt no real heat, just gentle warmth. The flame spread around the circle of witches, surrounding the Fomorii.
Silver began the chant.
“Blessed Ancestors, send these beasts away.
Please help us save all that is good this day.
Help us banish this evil times three.
Please help us now. So mote it be.”
The fire engulfed the Fomorii. Electricity snapped and zipped along their skin, the red glow encasing each one. It went no further than the demons. It did not touch the witches.
Silver repeated the chant, her voice growing louder and louder. The fire growing higher and higher. The intensity becoming almost too much to bear.
It was as if the Samhain moon reached out to them. Its light poured down from the sky, blended with the fire, touching each of the Fomorii.
The bodies of the demon-beasts shimmered.
Became faint.
Then stronger again.
Angry snarls that had echoed through the night quieted.
The beasts vanished.