“You need some light in here. And a heater,” Hannah grumbled as she rubbed her bare arms. He could see her skin had pebbled like gooseflesh from the chill in the chamber.
Using his magic again, he closed the granite door. Total darkness shrouded them, but his Drow sight allowed him to see clearly and he took her hand in his.
“Light, Garran. You might be able to see, but I can’t.” She tried to jerk her hand away from his, obviously still irritated with him from leaving her filled with desire last night.
He gripped her fingers and refused to release her. “Close your eyes.” He watched her in the darkness as she looked up at him. “Now. Then hold on to me as I take us to your Otherworld.”
She scowled at him but closed her eyes. The sound of the catch in her breath was lost as he guided them through the void to the Drow door to San Francisco. All it required of him was a thought of where they should be, and in moments they arrived.
Hannah grabbed onto his arm when their feet hit the rocky beach in the darkness beneath a pier. He looked down to see her blink and her lips part as she stared out at the bay.
She flashed what he was certain was a rare smile. “I’m home.” Her smile faded as she stared out into the distance to the lights of Alcatraz Island. “As much of a home as it can be right now.”
Garran tugged her hand and drew her from beneath the pier, past the giant round pilings, and into the foggy night. He sucked in the scent of brine mixed with the city’s pollution that assaulted his sensitive sense of smell. He didn’t smell the strong rotten-fish odor of the Fomorii, so the beasts were not close. At this moment.
But he did catch faint feminine perfume on the air, the scent of Fae, and the lingering smell of man.
Rocks and pebbles crunched beneath Hannah’s shoes, her breathing elevated, and he sensed her pleasure at returning to her city.
“You’re late,” came his daughter’s voice, and he smiled. Rhiannon might have her mother’s looks, but she had his occasional temper and impatience.
Hannah yanked her hand from his as soon as they heard Rhiannon’s voice, and even in the near darkness he could see a slight flush creep up her neck.
Amused at her obvious embarrassment at being caught holding his hand, he followed Hannah up the only slope that led from the beach to the wooden pier and to the asphalt.
A single light pole stood off to the side. Rhiannon and Keir waited just outside of the glow. Rhiannon was no longer in her D’Danann leathers, but in human clothing, as was Keir.
“It’s getting close to sunrise.” Rhiannon looked to the east. “We’ve got to get you to the warehouse.”
“Do not fear.” Garran stared in the direction the sun would grace the sky. Anticipation skittered along his skin at the graying atmosphere and the faint pink glow just over the horizon.
“What do you mean, ‘Do not fear?’” Hannah’s voice rose and he detected concern. Concern that made him smile again. She might not wish it, but already she had begun to care for him.
“No kidding. Hurry.” Even Rhiannon had urgency to her voice that warmed his chest.
The Great Guardian had only commanded him to not share with anyone that he had the power to send the demons back to Underworld. She had not told him to hide the fact that he could now walk in the sun. Which would be obvious once he began working with the D’Anu, D’Danann, and their human law enforcement officers.
As he stood on the pier and stared into the east, his skin did not tingle. In Otherworld, that would be a signal it was time to go belowground. If one of the Dark Elves ignored the sign, as soon as the sun rose all that remained of him would be ash.
“Now that you’re here to help, you are so not going to fry,” Rhiannon said as she came up beside him.
He looked down and admired the spark in his daughter’s eyes and in her spirit.
“The Great Guardian has granted me a gift.” His words echoed on the pier as he looked from Rhiannon to Hannah. “As long as I am here, assisting you and your people, I am able to walk in the sun.”
Hannah’s eyes widened and Rhiannon’s jaw dropped. “Really?” she asked.
He answered by looking to the east again.
It seemed an eternity passed, but it truly was not long before rays of morning light peeked through the fog.
As if only for him, the mist melted away and the sunrise burst clearly over the horizon. Oranges and yellows, so beautiful.
His eyes did not burn or water. His skin did not heat. Rather, other feelings altogether suffused his body. The rush of magic flowed through him as the sun fully appeared.
Behind him, Hannah and Rhiannon both voiced their surprise with a “What in the goddess’s name?” from Rhiannon and an “I don’t believe it” from Hannah. He knew he now looked as he had before being banished with his people. His skin and hair were returning to their former tones.
But for the moment only the rising sun captured his attention. Its warmth touched his face and he closed his eyes to absorb the feeling, to remember it always.
When he opened his eyes again, the sun was brighter. He held his palms up and looked at his skin. Pale as he remembered. His hair was long enough he could see the white-blond shade of it resting against his shoulder plates. He dropped his hands to his sides and turned to face his daughter, Hannah, and Keir. They all appeared to be too stunned to speak.
“I think it is time you showed me your headquarters.”
* * *
Anticipation tightened Hannah’s belly as Rhiannon and Keir escorted her and Garran to a warehouse positioned along the wharf. From the outside the tin siding was rusted and neglected, and the building had an abandoned look to it.
This was apparently their new “home” thanks to the battle with Ceithlenn.
That had taken place in the middle of a baseball stadium.
On national TV.
A battle that had left thousands dead and fingers pointed at the witches—the very reason the witches had been forced to flee to Otherworld.
But now they were back and ready to fight again.
Keir opened a side door and she stepped inside, along with Rhiannon and the suddenly very different-looking Garran.
No, he truly wasn’t so different than before—his body was still sculpted perfection, his features proud and kingly, and his stride was that of a warrior.
But his hair was white-blond instead of silvery-gray, and his skin was almost as fair as the Great Guardian’s. His eyes were the same liquid silver that enraptured Hannah when she first looked at him.
She wanted him, and she still couldn’t believe he had left her last night.
Uncontrollable thoughts of being in bed with Garran made her mind swim. They were no longer in the Drow realm, so her lust for him definitely had nothing to do with the legendary magic of the Dark Elves. She wasn’t sure what to make of those feelings except that she wanted to have wild, incredible sex with him.
When they entered the warehouse, Hannah’s lips parted in amazement. She paused just inside the doorway of the warehouse before they were noticed, taking in everything.
Organized chaos dominated the large place, which was divided in half by newly erected walls to her left. The windows were a little cloudy but allowed sunshine to stream through. They were high enough that those inside couldn’t be seen from the outside—unless they could fly like the D’Danann.
The walls, concrete floor, and surrounding equipment looked as if they had been cleaned efficiently. A combination of smells, including new wood and sawdust, patchouli incense, and lemon oil hung in the air.
D’Danann, D’Anu, and the Paranormal Special Forces were in various groups, obviously engaged in strategy sessions.
“Garran?” Copper’s voice came from the side and Hannah turned to look at her sister D’Anu witch. She was staring at Garran in openmouthed astonishment. “It’s you—but the sunlight—your skin—your hair—”
Hannah glanced up at Garran who winked at Copper. “I have come to do your bidding. H
ow would you have me assist you?”
Copper blinked, snapped her jaws shut, and approached, limping a little in her ankle cast. Then with a grin, she said, “How cool. You can walk in the daylight.”
Behind Copper stood her husband, Tiernan. The blond warrior stepped forward and took the Drow King’s arm in the hand-to-elbow grip. “We are pleased you have chosen to join us.”
“As am I,” Garran said with a genuine smile as he and Tiernan released each other.
Then came a round of greetings and handshakes among the D’Danann and D’Anu who had not been in Otherworld last night. They were also welcomed by Jake Macgregor, captain of the San Francisco Paranormal Special Forces.
“We’ve started calling ourselves the Alliance,” Copper said after the introductions were made. “Short for Unified Otherworlds Alliance.”
She grinned. “We couldn’t keep calling ourselves the D’Anu, D’Danann, and PSF team—too much of a mouthful. And now with the Drow helping out, referring to our team as the Alliance will make things a lot simpler.”
“Great idea,” Hannah said, and Garran nodded.
Even though his expression remained kingly, Hannah sensed that he was pleased his people were counted as members of the Alliance.
Hannah glanced around the warehouse, taking in more details. Numerous humans dressed in PSF gear were working on various things like weaponry and training.
The PSF had a lot of disadvantages since they were human and had no magical abilities that enabled them to battle powerful magical beings. But the PSF officers had developed weapons that gave them a fighting chance, and Hannah knew they were working on finding other ways to help win the war.
Hannah was drawn in with Rhiannon, Keir, and Garran.
The D’Danann were dressed in jeans and T-shirts rather than their warrior leathers so that they could more easily go out among humans. But Hannah could tell them from the PSF by subtle things, like the way they walked, the power in their presences. The long and shoulder-length hair helped, but there was something more about them.
The only human here who rivaled the D’Danann in physical appearance and presence was Jake Macgregor. Other good-looking officers were in the room, many as powerfully built as Jake, but there was something special about him, too. Not to mention his sexy dark looks, his blue eyes, and the fact that he was built like a linebacker.
As always, Hannah stiffened when her sister D’Anu witches came over to hug her. Damn her childhood. Damn her mother, her family and friends, for never hugging. Why did she have to feel so abnormal? Just the thought of being close to these people made her feel crushed and breathless and trapped.
But Garran.
She closed her eyes.
She’d figure out Garran later.
Banshee’s welcoming cry echoed in the warehouse. Hannah smiled and extended her arm as she tilted her head back to see her familiar circling above her. He glided to an easy landing on her arm and she stroked the feathers at the back of his neck.
“I missed you,” she said even though she’d seen him just yesterday.
“I’ll show you around, and then we need to scry,” Silver said, interrupting Hannah’s focus on Banshee.
Hannah nodded and the falcon pushed away from her arm and took flight. She watched him as he flapped his beautiful wings and sailed up to rest on one of the rafters.
The witches left Garran and the D’Danann behind, including Silver’s husband, a warrior named Hawk.
Silver’s gaze was warm as she smiled at Hannah. Silver was so beautiful with her gray, almond-shaped eyes and her long silvery-blond hair that spilled softly past her shoulders. She was pregnant but her belly had only grown into a small pooch.
Silver and Copper, who were blood sisters, escorted Hannah around the huge warehouse. PSF officers used one section to design their special equipment while another area was used for planning and strategy sessions.
To Hannah’s surprise, a darkened room had been built with special jail cells. It smelled odd, of metal and something undefinable.
“They’re created to neutralize magic.” Silver gestured to the bars. “A few of the Fae who live in Golden Gate Park came to us and suggested it.” Her eyes were wide with what appeared to be amazement. “They helped us build it in a matter of hours, and then they vanished.”
Surprise made Hannah shake her head with wonder. She’d never heard of the Earth-bound magical creatures helping beyond answering summons during certain moon ceremonies. They often lent their magic to aid the witches in various causes, but to leave the park itself?
Silver and Copper led Hannah through the rest of the warehouse. One half was still under construction with workers building walls and making rooms with no ceilings.
The warehouse was huge enough to make lots of rooms. Everyone used sleeping bags instead of mattresses to sleep on the concrete floors. Roughing it, most definitely.
The sisters also showed Hannah the special room that had been built for Garran to stay in during daylight hours, but now that he was able to be in the sunlight, it wouldn’t be necessary.
Hannah was immensely grateful there were a couple of bathrooms and showers already constructed in the warehouse.
When they were done with the tour, Copper and Silver drew Hannah into one of the many rooms that looked as newly built as the rooms in the rest of the warehouse, but more “finished.”
“Since you’re here now, it’s a good opportunity to scry,” Silver said as they closed the door behind them. “It’s been a while since all of us have been together.”
Hannah hitched up the pack that held her scrying tools. A little normalcy would be welcome right about now.
Smells of incense and scented candles met her senses as soon as they walked through the door of the kitchen. Patchouli, sandalwood, pine, and cedar incense. Rose, cinnamon, and chamomile candles. Safflower, almond, and hazelnut oils.
And then there was the blessedly wonderful smells of freshly baked cinnamon rolls and bread. All familiar scents that filled her with a sense of being home, even though they were far from a real home.
The room was amazingly beautiful considering they were in a warehouse.
Two large, industrial ovens crouched directly across the room from the door, and to the right stood two big refrigerators. White cabinets took up the remainder of three sides of the room, in a U-shape.
A giant cauldron with golden steam rising from it sat on one counter. Even from across the room, Hannah could smell fresh breads, roasted meats, and cooked vegetables emanating from it.
“The Cauldron of Dagda.” Silver caught Hannah’s attention when she spoke. Silver rested one hand on her belly while she gestured to the cauldron with her other hand. “Thank the goddess it was finally located in Otherworld. It was getting harder and harder to find enough food to feed these bottomless pits called the D’Danann.”
“Now that is a blessing,” Hannah said with a smile.
Dried herbs hung from a rope slung across one corner of the room. On the counter sat candles, clear vials of oils, fat pottery jars no doubt containing magical creams, and a Dragon vase holding sticks of incense from its gaping jaws.
Tools of their craft were arranged neatly on every counter-top. Except for the left side of the ovens, where an array of cinnamon rolls, baked breads, potpies, and other delicious things stood cooling, surely Cassia’s handiwork.
Speaking of the mysterious witch—Hannah’s eyes met Cassia’s blue ones, and once again the wisdom in the blond half-Elvin witch’s eyes amazed Hannah. For a time Cassia had served as an apprentice to the D’Anu, not revealing what a truly powerful being she was. Still, no one knew the extent of her magic, and when asked, Cassia gave noncommittal answers.
Where once Cassia had acted bumbling, unsure, and “common,” she now had an ethereal, elegant look to her and she was beyond graceful. She had a calmness and strength that all the witches leaned on. Cassia cooked and healed, but Hannah was certain there was so much more to her.
&nbs
p; Hannah tore her gaze from Cassia’s. A long oval table took up one side of the room, and the other witches were already assembling around it. At the center of the table a cone of incense burned in a Dragon holder. Mulberry scented for protection, strength, and divination.
Rhiannon sat at one end of the table, her arms folded across her chest as she leaned back in her chair with her eyes closed and her auburn hair tucked behind her ears. Her gift was visioning the future.
Alyssa worried her lower lip and studied the candle in front of her. Soft brown curls bobbed around her pale cheeks.
Honey-haired and lavender-eyed Sydney adjusted her elegant glasses before settling into her seat close to a silver consecrated bowl of water and three fat candles.
Silver stood in front of her pewter cauldron, rather than taking a seat. The snake bracelet winding its way up her wrist glinted in the light.
Hannah met Mackenzie’s usually mischievous blue eyes. The witch pushed her blond hair behind her shoulders before she began shuffling her deck of tarot cards so fast she appeared nervous.
Cassia was the last of the eight witches to settle in a chair and she rested her bag of rune stones on the table.
Slim, athletic Copper sat with her forearms on the black laminate table and her hands clasped as she looked at Hannah.
Soon, no doubt, Copper would be able to remove the ankle cast she’d been in since she crushed her ankle during the battle to close and keep the door closed to Underworld. Copper’s ability was dream-visions, so she had no visible tools.
Besides Copper and Rhiannon, Hannah was the only one at that moment who didn’t have scrying materials out. She raised her pack and withdrew her black Dragon mirror and the vial of salt crystals and arranged them on the table.
“What about Darkwolf ?” Hannah asked after she set her pack on the concrete floor beside her chair. “Is he still on the run from Ceithlenn?”
“We think so, according to our scrying.” Silver glanced at Sydney. “Not to mention the fact Conlan and Sydney saw him firsthand battling and then escaping from Balor.”
Silver returned her gaze to Hannah’s. “We think he’s not on their side anymore. But we don’t know what he’s up to, if he plans to do anything with the eye, or if he’s even a threat.”
The Shadows Page 12