Authors: Cheyenne McCray
Shadow Magic (30 page)
AFTER THE ARROWHEAD HAD been removed from Jake's arm, Hannah and the other witches used magical herbs and potions to treat the wound. The Drow diamond arrowhead glittered on the tabletop in the sunlight. Hannah shook her head. The damned thing that could have killed Jake was worth a small fortune.
Hannah breathed out a sigh of relief that he was okay as she brought her hand to her moon and crescent armband and stroked it with her fingers. Jake was one of the best men she knew and the thought of him coming close to getting killed created another knot in her belly. Banshee rested on her shoulder and tugged at strands of her hair as if agreeing with her.
The kitchen smelled of the tea tree oil used as an antiseptic, herb Robert to stop the bleeding, and comfrey ointment to speed the healing of the wound. All of these had been infused with magic to speed the healing and to take away as much pain as possible.
By the time Cassia finished binding Jake's arm with spelled cloth, he started coming around. He blinked, his sleepy blue eyes slowly becoming more alert. The man was built like a football player and dwarfed the kitchen chair.
Hannah sat in a chair next to him and put her hand on his knee. She used her magic to draw him further into the present and to help eliminate the fog in his mind. Banshee gave a soft cry as he lent her some of his own magic.
Jake shook his head twice, like he was trying to shake off the remnants of the potion. Then he looked up and his eyes appeared clear of any pain, cloudiness, or confusion.
Hannah drew her hand away, releasing the magical bond she'd used on him.
“We've got to talk.” Jake's gaze moved from Hannah's to Rhiannon's. “If anything's been said while I've been out, fill me in.”
“Nothing.” Rhiannon pushed her hand through her hair and ignored Keir's protective stance and thunderous expression as he glowered over her. “We've been waiting for you.”
“Good.” Jake glanced at his bandaged arm then to Cassia and his features seemed unusually wary. “Thanks for patching me up.”
Cassia just smiled her mysterious smile and turned to start throwing ingredients into a bowl. She was always cooking something, even though the D'Danann had found the legendary Cauldron of Dagda.
Unlike the kitchen at their now closed shop, Enchantments, this kitchen was large and roomy, and could accommodate five of the D'Danann, all eight D'Anu, Jake, and one of his officers.
Hannah's thoughts rested on Garran for a moment. He should be here.
“Shoot.” Jake directed his command to speak at Hannah, and she sat straighter in her chair and met his stare head-on.
Automatically she wanted to close up because she never let anyone tell her what to do. Instead, she started telling everyone present about her and Rhiannon's journey to the Drow realm.
Just about every man had his arms folded across his chest, a fierce expression on his face. Hannah's body heated. Who were they to judge her choices? The witches' expressions varied from concerned to unhappy to angry.
Well, she knew just where they could put their thoughts. She wasn't an idiot. She did and she would continue to do whatever she had to in order to fight this war against Ceithlenn and keep everyone safe.
Including that bastard Garran, who had virtually traded his life for his people and hers.
When Hannah finished telling everyone in the kitchen about the visions, Keir clenched the hilt of his sword. “Drow lies. They tricked you with their dark magic.”
Rhiannon got in her husband's face. “You listen, and you listen good. When I have one, my visions don't fail me and that was as clear a vision as I've ever had.”
She turned and swept her gaze from one person to the next. Her anger was apparent from the stiffness of her body, and the redness of her face that caused her Fomorii scars to stand out. “The Great Guardian is responsible for Garran's power, and he has used it to help us with this war.”
Hannah tried to speak without lashing out at the prejudiced people in the room. “He has endangered his life.” Her next words were harder to say, as if a great weight pressed on her chest. “If he uses that power one more time, he'll probably die. We can't let him do that.”
“What about the Drow who attacked and killed so many of our people last night?” Hawk asked, his arms still crossed over his chest.
“Hannah already told you.” Rhiannon's scars seemed even whiter and her eyes flashed a deeper emerald color. “They acted on their own. Their leader is some guy named Vidar and he went against Garran's decision and his promise to us. Their other leaders didn't even know anything about what Vidar had done.”
“Then where are the leaders, this Directorate?” Hawk braced one arm on the refrigerator. “Why have they not come?”
Rhiannon rolled her eyes and pointed to the windows where light streamed in through the fog. “Duh? The sunlight? They don't have a special gift from the Great Guardian to let them walk in daytime.”
The room was silent for a moment before Silver rubbed the small pooch of her pregnant belly and said, “We have to give him the benefit of the doubt. He's been out cold, so there's no way he could have ordered that attack.”
“Unless he did it ahead of time.” Jake grimaced as he moved his arm and shifted in his chair, probably from the pain that magic couldn't completely take away. “He might have given his men a date and time and didn't know he'd be flat on his back.” Jake brought his hand up to his bandaged arm. “He probably didn't know ahead of time about the attack on Hannah at Coit Tower, I'll give him that.” With a frown, Jake added, “But he could have worked out this Drow attack with Darkwolf. After all, the Dark Elves did help Darkwolf open the door to Underworld.”
Hannah's composure hung by a thread. She wanted to scream, to yell, to stomp her foot and tell the group they were a bunch of idiots not to trust Garran after he'd risked his life for all of them.
Banshee gripped her shoulder a little tighter.
She raised her chin and said, “Under no circumstances will Garran be harmed. Rhiannon and I will question him and we can go from there.” She hadn't realized she was clenching her fists until she felt the ache in her knuckles. She forced herself to relax them. “I'm going to check on Garran and all of you can wait until I'm finished talking with him. Once he's awake.”
With her chin raised and her back straight, she pushed the kitchen door open, walked out. She held out her arm and Banshee eased down on it before flapping his wings and taking flight.
With grim resolve, Hannah headed to the room she and Garran had been sharing.
She couldn't believe he would break his word. He wouldn't. No matter what anyone thought, Garran wasn't responsible for that attack.
GARRAN WOKE WITH THE mother goddess of all headaches. He opened his eyes and shut them again as late afternoon sunlight attacked them. It took him a few moments of blinking, but he finally accustomed himself to the light.
He frowned, trying to remember what had happened and why he was flat on his back. Smells of cedar and safflower met wood and sawdust as he took a deep breath. He flexed his hands and shifted even though every muscle in his body ached.
A light blanket covered him. He realized he was naked beneath it and he frowned again.
Memories slowly came back to him. Being in his realm and realizing in his gut that Hannah needed him. Finding her being tortured in a fiery sphere. Joining her and protecting them both from the heat before he used the power the Great Guardian had given him.
He had sent the few Fomorii back to Underworld.
But Ceithlenn had vanished.
Garran's entire being shook with his fury. The bitch had escaped.
The magnitude of what he'd done slammed into his chest as if the stone door to his realm had fallen upon him. He had used the power from the Great Guardian a second time, eliminating few of the Fomorii and not the goddess.
His people. By the gods, he had already failed them by using the power in a way that did not directly benefit them.
Yet, could even a king be expected to put his people before his family and those he loved ⦠Rhiannon â¦
And Hannah?
His heart squeezed. Did he love her? Was that what the feeling was that wrapped itself around his heart so tightly he could barely take a breath without his chest hurting?
Saving Hannah had been more important to him than anything at that moment when he had used his powers.
Was it possible that he could have battled Ceithlenn in a different way? Have saved Hannah using his sword and his dark powers? He did not believe he was protected against Ceithlenn's abilities to draw the soul from a body. She could have had the opportunity to kill him.
But now â¦
He would need to use the power a third and final time. He
would have to make sure he sent the rest of the Fomorii to Underworld. And Ceithlenn with them.
would have to make sure he sent the rest of the Fomorii to Underworld. And Ceithlenn with them.
Then he would likely die.
Garran brought his hand to his forehead and rubbed his eyes. His hand felt heavy as he moved it and he ground his teeth in frustration at the weakness pinning his body to the sleeping bags on the floor of the room he and Hannah had shared.
Was Hannah well? He'd assumed she was, but what if Ceithlenn had come back?
Ice coated his soul.
The click of the door had him turning his head in that direction. Relief flooded through him and a smile curved the corner of his mouth as Hannah slipped in and shut the door behind her.
Thank the gods she was all right. With the connection they had he believed he would have known if anything had happened to herâbut
seeing
her well and alive made his heart soar.
seeing
her well and alive made his heart soar.
A troubled expression was on her beautiful features, but she composed herself and walked toward him, where he lay naked beneath the blanket.
“About time you woke up, Sleeping Beauty.” With grace she eased down and sat next to him, her legs curled to the side of her. “You've been out so long I was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it back.” She gave him a look that said she hadn't been concerned, but he saw beneath that façade.
She wore a shirt and jeans and looked beautiful despite the dark smudges under her eyes. He wanted to know what had put them there. Her dark hair fell in glossy waves around her face and the one lock of blond hair was tucked behind her ear.
The heaviness in his body began to ease away and he turned on his side so that he faced her. He settled one elbow on the sleeping bag and rested his head on his palm. The blanket slid down to his hips, barely covering his cock, and
his lips quirked when her gaze followed the glide of the blanket and her eyes rested on his growing erection now tenting the blanket.
his lips quirked when her gaze followed the glide of the blanket and her eyes rested on his growing erection now tenting the blanket.
“I see that at least one part of you has recovered.” Her gaze met his again.
“Kiss me,” he said.
Hannah blinked and just looked at him, but her nipples pushed against her T-shirt, telling him more than she wanted him to know.
He gave her a lazy smile. “Kiss me.”
“Just one.” Hannah lowered her eyelids and brought her face to his at the same time she braced her hand on his biceps. Her breath was warm against his lips as she brushed her mouth over his.
Garran caught her lower lip between his teeth, holding her to him, and she gave a soft sound of surprise. As she opened her mouth, he thrust his tongue inside, tasting her sweet flavor and wanting more than a kiss.
And he would have what he wanted.
In a fast movement, he turned onto his back, grasping her around the waist, lifting her, and setting her down so that she was straddling his waist.
“Garran!” Something between a laugh and concern was in her voice. “You've been ill. What in the world are you doing?”
He took one of her hands and placed it on his erection. “Does this feel like the cock of a man who is ill?”
With her eyelids lowered, she rubbed the length of it, from his balls to the head of his erection through the light fabric of the blanket. “No.” She squeezed him. “It sure doesn't.” Her dark gaze met his. “But you likely need more time to heal.”
Garran reached up and palmed her breasts before squeezing her nipples. “I cannot think of a better way to heal than to make love to you, Hannah.”
She groaned as he pinched and pulled her nipples through her T-shirt, and she rubbed his cock harder.
Garran sucked in his breath as she brought her mouth to his again and their kiss was slow and leisurely. Right now he didn't want slow. He wanted hard and fast.
He grasped Hannah's T-shirt and pulled it out of her jeans and she rose and helped him to remove it. He loved the satiny material of what she called a bra, and he ran his rough hands over both breasts, squeezing and fondling them through the soft fabric.
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