The Forbidden Page 9

  “Let’s get out of here before any more of the bastards come,” Silver said more to herself than to the mouse.

  Keeping her focus on the magical ropes, Silver scooped up the cauldron with her free hand, her other still clenched around her bloodied stiletto. Mortimer’s tiny claws dug into her shirt as he clung to her.

  Silver stumbled over rocks and debris as she made her way to the stone steps. The demon writhed and shrieked loud enough to cause her to wince. Its three eyes glared at her with hatred.

  She felt the tiny familiar’s power enhance her own, keeping the demon bound while she jogged up the steps as fast as she could. When she reached the top of the stairs she extinguished her magical light and slammed the thick wooden door.

  Silver yanked open the back entrance of Janis’s home and tore out of the house and to her car as fast as she could.

  She couldn’t make the drive to the shop fast enough.

  As soon as she parked the VW behind Moon Song, the Coven’s metaphysical store and café, Silver hurried to unlock the back door of the shop. She felt the tremendous power of the building’s wardings and it gave her some measure of relief as she pushed her way inside and slammed the door behind her.

  It was still early in the morning, but Cassia was pulling something from the oven, obviously baking for that day’s café crowd. The kitchen smelled of pumpkin spice and freshly baked blueberry muffins.

  For an instant Silver thought that odd, that Cassia was baking as if it were a day like any other, but then realized it was probably the apprentice’s way of coping with everything that had happened. She tended to be a disaster at most things, but cooking and baking was one craft at which she excelled.

  Cassia turned from the stove and stared at Silver. Cassia was a curly-headed blonde with almost translucent skin, a pert nose, and blue eyes that were an uncommon shade of turquoise. She generally dressed in flowing skirts and loose blouses, and today was no exception. She wore a light turquoise skirt and blouse that made her eyes even more startling, more unearthly than normal.

  “What happened to you?” Cassia set down the hot pad she’d been holding. “What were you doing out of the shop?”

  Silver was too exhausted to talk about it—her adrenaline rush was fading and weakness from using her gray magic was kicking in. Instead of explaining, she held up the muddy cauldron. “I got it.”

  Cassia’s jaw dropped. “You went back?”

  “I found Mortimer.” Silver held out her free hand then let Janis’s familiar scamper down her arm and onto her palm. “Well, he sort of found me. Maybe you’d better keep him with you in case Polaris forgets the familiars-don’t-eat-familiars rule.”

  “Better keep him from Spirit, too,” Cassia said, referring to Rhiannon’s familiar, a large cocoa-colored cat. Cassia wrinkled her nose as she approached, then let Mortimer daintily step from Silver’s hand onto her own. “Smells like you’ve both been doused in fish oil. And your ear is bleeding, Silver.”

  Silver was already turning for the stairs leading up to the apartments. “I’ll be upstairs until opening time.”

  “So we’re keeping the store open?” Cassia called after her. “I was getting ready just in case.”

  Silver paused in mid-step and looked back at the young witch. “We need to keep money coming in for the Coven, and it’s probably best we keep up some semblance of normalcy.”

  Cassia nodded, an odd look passing over her face. Not for the first time Silver had the feeling that there was more to Cassia than met the eye. And once again, she couldn’t help feeling how much Cassia reminded her of her sister Copper. Not in looks, but in something else. Something almost indiscernible.

  Silver turned away from the apprentice and hurried up the stairs, clutching the muddy cauldron. She had mentioned to the Elders that she’d thought there was something different about Cassia, but she’d always been told that she was imagining things. Cassia had an impeccable background and even came from the same Coven as Silver’s father.

  Perhaps that was what bothered her.

  After a long, hot shower. Silver felt more refreshed. She dressed as she normally would for the day when she worked in the shop and café. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and as always she wore the snake bracelet that curled around her wrist and the pentagram at her throat.

  She usually felt sexy and confident in a short skirt, silk blouse, and three-inch heels. Today, not so much. But she figured she had to give the illusion of normalcy.

  Her bedroom was one of her favorite places to retreat. The furniture was mahogany, and the carpet and bedding were a rich cream. Colorful impressionistic paintings graced the walls, and rose throw rugs dotted the floor. Stained-glass lamps perched on nightstands on either side of the bed. She had always loved how their colors scattered across the white bedding.

  She strode across her carpeted bedroom and onto the dark hardwood floor of her living room that served as her study and her dining area, as well. Her small living room was decorated in soothing shades of blue and off-white, vases of brilliant flowers scattered about to add splashes of color.

  She took the cauldron to the sink in her postage-stamp-sized kitchen, and ran tap water over the pewter, cleansing mud from inside and out. Her earlobe still ached a bit, but she healed quickly and the herbal cream she’d put on it before she’d dressed would help. She wasn’t sure if she should be thankful to the mouse or not.

  A chill washed over Silver and her eyes lost focus as the scene played out before her once again. What had she been thinking? What if she hadn’t stopped and had actually killed?

  And Darkwolf. It had definitely been his voice that she had heard. He was playing with her. Using her gray magic and urging her to the dark.

  Water spilled over the side of the sink and Silver cursed as some splashed on her skirt. She quickly turned off the faucet and shifted the cauldron so that she could lift out the drain plug and let some of the soapy water out.

  After she finished cleaning the cauldron and thoroughly dried it, she placed it on the small dining table in the little nook in front of one of the bay windows. To her great relief, Polaris was curled up on one of the chairs.

  “There you are.” Silver headed back to the kitchen. “I need you to help me with the vision.”

  Her heels clicked across the wooden floor as she lugged a large bottle of consecrated water to the table. She tipped it into the cauldron, pouring the water until it was almost full. When she finished, she set the bottle on the floor, took a deep breath and stared at the cauldron. Polaris raised his snaky head, too, and focused on it.

  What now? What would it show her?

  Silver bit her lower lip, almost afraid of what she would see. She took another deep breath. Pushed her hair behind her ear. Wiped her sweating palms on her skirt.

  Polaris’s tongue flicked out and she felt the strength of his magic join with hers.

  Now or never. She opened her mouth. Cleared her throat, and then began.

  “Ancestors, hear us and light our way.

  Show us the truth we must see today.

  By the power of water, wind, and tree.

  Warn us, save us. So mote it be.”

  Silver held her breath after she said the chant, and it wasn’t until she saw the first tendril of fog that she let it out again in a long, slow exhale. Her heart pounded as she watched the fog rise and figures began to form and coalesce.

  She forced herself to calm down and relax, un-focusing her eyes and letting the world slip away.

  Images appeared, one slow wave after another. A large, dim room with a chandelier at the center of the ceiling. Silver frowned. A ballroom? With demons standing guard before a pair of wooden doors.

  Her Seer’s sight roamed the room and her heart banged against her breastbone when she saw D’Anu Coven members behind some kind of magical force field that shimmered beneath the ballroom lights. Some witches paced while others slept, and a couple simply stared into the darkness with glazed eyes. She saw Janis
, John, Iris, Mary, Sandy, Mackenzie, Sydney, and the others, including the apprentices. And there—Rhiannon.

  The images vanished, leaving only a thin trail of fog.

  “No.” Silver’s eyes grew wide with panic as her consciousness reeled her back to the present. “You didn’t tell me where they are!”

  Polaris hissed.

  From the cauldron, nothing.

  “Please, please, please.” She grasped the handles and urged her magic to join with the water, to coax from it another vision that would tell her where the witches were being held prisoner.

  Nothing.

  Silver waited a full five minutes, pleading with the Ancestors to show her more, but it was no use.

  Frustrated, she whirled from the table and headed toward her computer station. Her heels rang loud and sharp against the wood flooring, every step a staccato echoing her anger. She flopped onto the computer chair and immediately brought up the American D’Anu Covens’ secret website. It also had an e-mail system, a special means of communication that had been developed by one of the members who was a software engineer.

  She entered the system and searched the roster for each of the telephone numbers of the high priestesses and priests of the twelve other Covens spread across the country. She’d never had need to call them before, and she didn’t have the slightest idea what to expect. They would be willing to send help, wouldn’t they? Surely they would.

  The twelfth was her father’s Coven and she was too chicken to contact him. Yet. She’d save him for last. When he found out she had summoned the D’Danann—she didn’t even want to think what his response would be.

  Silver picked up her cell phone from beside the computer and punched in the first number.

  8

  The shop’s plate-glass window felt cool against Silver’s palm, contrasting with the burn and frustration in her body. Her breath misted the pane while she stared out into the early evening fog. It was the same afternoon that she had scried the scene of her Coven members being held prisoner.

  Of those D’Anu priestesses and priests she’d been able to contact by phone, the reception had been awkward, chilly even. Especially when she mentioned the Tuatha D’Danann. However, each one had promised to convene an emergency Coven meeting to discuss the matter and whether or not they would be willing to send aid.

  Those she hadn’t reached, she’d left messages for, and hoped they’d get back to her soon.

  The only Coven she hadn’t called yet was the Salem Coven—her father’s. She knew she needed to contact him, and that he would find out sooner or later. She just didn’t have the guts to tell him what she wanted to do—and what she had done—yet. She was also afraid he would insist on coming to San Francisco, and for selfish reasons she didn’t want him or her mother anywhere near the danger.

  But the other Covens—they should send help.

  Silver had also called Jake, and he’d promised to stop by this evening. They’d been through a lot together, but he was never going to believe this. He had to—she needed as much help as she could get.

  Unable to sit idly by and wait, Silver had tried scrying with her cauldron again, but it had shown her nothing.

  Nothing.

  Her heart felt wrenched in two. She didn’t know what to do to help her people now.

  “But I will find a way,” she muttered, fogging the window even more. “Even if I have to perform the summoning ceremony a thousand times.”

  Only she was afraid each time she performed the ritual, it would make her weaker, even more unable to protect herself or her people. Mrs. Illes had taught Silver gray magic before the ancient witch passed on to Summerland. “Gray magic,” Mrs. Illes’ voice whispered through Silver’s mind, “there is always a price to pay.”

  But the price is necessary.

  While she stared out into the growing darkness, she let her fingers trail through the mist on the pane. The fog was denser than normal, somehow more eerie. She could barely make out the cracked sidewalk or even the pockmarked and scarred asphalt street. The outside cold seeped inside the building and into Silver’s bones. What if the Fomorii were out there now, ready to take her, Eric, and Cassia?

  She shuddered and turned away from the window to the Coven’s shop, which usually gave her some amount of comfort. Moon Song was the name of the Pagan metaphysical store and tea shop she managed.

  Normally it filled her with a sense of serenity to look at the crystals, candles, incense, chalices, and blank journals for new Pagans to fill in to make their own Book of Shadows. Moon Song was piled high with innocent items, beautiful trinkets to encourage faith, joy, and bliss—not the powerful tools of the D’Anu.

  Moon Song was like a respite from the dark, twisted evils she saw in the night, a break from the sobering responsibilities of D’Anu heritage. Silver loved seeing New Age Pagans and Wiccans step onto the path of self-discovery, loved knowing the universe would have more positive energy.

  In happier times, she could focus on the old phrase, “Every little bit helps.”

  But all the little bits in the world seemed insignificant now. The shop didn’t soothe her. Maybe never again.

  Outside the store she heard the familiar clang of a trolley. A foghorn sounded in the distance, drowning the trolley’s last happy chime with a low, mournful note. The wail gave her a shiver. She had lived in San Francisco for many years and she was used to listening to foghorns, but this one sounded flat. Ominous.

  Angry tears burned at the back of her eyes. Sure, the news channels would report record numbers of people missing over two nights’ time—between the Balorites and the D’Anu—but would they ever discover, even believe, how it had happened?

  Not that there was anything that anyone could do about it. Except for the D’Anu witches—with the aid of the D’Danann, if they agreed to help.

  If I can get any of them, witch or Fae, to listen.

  Behind her, light chatter rose from the few patrons in the tea shop. Moon Song was known for its pastries, especially Cassia’s scones, and the variety of herbal teas and flavored coffees they served.

  But right now Silver wanted complete silence. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her cold, cold fingers.

  Plan. I have to come up with a plan.

  Silver swallowed hard as she remembered the winged man from last night. Hawk.

  Where had the D’Danann gone? Would he return to help her?

  I’m so confused. Ancestors, help me, please!

  “I’m finished with the repelling potion,” Cassia said from behind her.

  Silver started, dropped her hand to her side, and turned to the apprentice. Judging by the woman’s pale features, she was still shell-shocked from the happenings of last night.

  “You used every ingredient from my Book of Shadows?” Silver asked.

  The blonde novice witch gave a quick nod, her earrings and bracelets flashing with her movements. “It’s ready for the ritual.”

  “Let’s finish, then.” Silver tried to keep doubt from her voice. Out of every apprentice she’d ever known, Cassia was—well, she was a disaster. Most of the time. Silver did have to give her credit, though. The young witch was an excellent cook.

  Heels clicking against the wooden floor, Silver slipped her hands into the pockets of her short skirt as she followed Cassia. She dodged display stands of herbal oils and balms and slipped between the two tables where patrons were enjoying Moon Song’s popular edible delights.

  Cassia’s broomstick skirt swished as she bumped into the back of one elderly woman, causing her to drop her pumpkin spice scone onto her plate. “I’m so sorry.” Cassia whirled to apologize only to hit the edge of another table with her hip. Ginseng and peppermint tea sloshed from porcelain cups onto their saucers in front of the two women at the table. “Oh, dear,” the young witch said to the two women. “May I get you more tea?”

  The women simply smiled and declined. Silver took a deep breath of relief as she and Cassia made it to the café counter wit
hout further incident. “I’ll join you in a sec,” Silver said, and Cassia nodded as she slipped into the kitchen.

  After a customer paid for a slice of caramel-covered cheesecake, a biscotti, and a large mocha to go, Silver caught Eric’s attention with a wave of her hand, summoning him from where he was shelving new books on herbs, Faeries, and Pagan rituals. He was one of her most valued employees and a powerful witch in his own right. He had nearly completed his twenty years of apprenticeship and would soon be ready to fill a position in the Coven that might open.

  Providing there was a Coven left.

  He slid in one more book, then sauntered to the café’s counter. Eric wore jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt, had short black hair, a broad build, and a swagger that went along with his pretty-boy good looks. But today the thirty-three year old man lacked his usual charismatic smile. His expression was tight and his eyes held anger, anger that Silver also felt. Thank the Ancestors he had not been at the meeting hall when the Fomorii had taken the rest of the Coven.

  The thought that he could have been among them chilled Silver, but she steadied herself by bracing her hands on the countertop. “Mind closing up shop while I help Cassia with a repelling potion?” she asked, low enough that no one else would hear.

  Eric was handsome and always had females fawning over him. But with his expression today, he’d probably scare the hell out of them instead. He attempted a wry smile. “Cassia’s making it, eh?” he said.

  Silver’s mouth twitched despite herself. “She’s trying.”

  “Just watch that she doesn’t drop the whole damn cauldron on the kitchen floor.” Eric shook his head. “Or we might all be warded from the kitchen,” he said, even though he knew that anyone Silver allowed into her circle of protection wouldn’t be warded or repelled from the shop.

  She raked her hand through her hair. “Are you sure you won’t stay in one of the apartments here?”

  Eric gave her an almost irritated look. “I live next door. I’ll be fine.”

  Silver bit the inside of her cheek. She truly didn’t want any of them to be separated. “Head on home, then, when our guests are gone. But be careful.”