Shadow Magic - Softcover

McCray, Cheyenne

 
9780312949587: Shadow Magic

Inhaltsangabe

Socialite Hannah Wentworth leaves San Francisco to join her fellow D'Anu witches in the Otherworld to battle an evil force intent on the destruction of the entire human realm, entering into an uneasy alliance with Garran, a man she considers a traitor but to whom she is dangerously attracted. Original.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Cheyenne McCray writes the Night Tracker novels and the Armed and Dangerous series, among others. She grew up on a ranch in southeastern Arizona. She has been writing ever since she can remember, back to her kindergarten days when she penned her first poem. She always knew one day she would write novels—she wanted to create worlds that readers would get lost in, just as she had always gotten lost in her favorite books. “Growing up I read, read, and read,” she says, “and grew up to write, write, write.” She has three sons and two dogs. A true Arizona native, she loves the desert and all of the sunshine and beautiful sunsets that go along with it.

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Chapter One

PAYBACKS ARE A BITCH.

And Hannah Wentworth would see to it that Ceithlenn, a dark goddess from Underworld, paid. Big time.

Banshee, Hannah's falcon familiar, made a soft cry and gripped her shirt tighter in his talons, reminding her of where she was and why she had come to this secluded pond deep in the forest of Otherworld.

Those . . . feelings she'd been having.

Ever since she'd been forced to leave San Francisco, Hannah's instincts had told her things were about to get worse. Impossibly more dangerous.

Whatever was coming, Hannah wasn't about to face it blind or unaware. She would find out what she could, or die trying.

Hannah knelt on the damp grass beside the pond and dropped the pack she held. She dug through the leather bag until she found her crying mirror then drew it out and settled it on the grass in front of her.

Smells of moss and rich wet earth mingled with the scents of evergreens and wildflowers as she focused on the mirror. A breeze ruffled Banshee’s feathers, and stirred her dark hair and the shock of blond that swept down one side of her face. A night bird began its evening song, and Hannah thought she heard Fae voices joining in.

Her grandmother had given her the crying instrument after Hannah left her socialite mother to live with her father. The strength of Hannah's innate talent for alomancy, using the mirror and sea salt crystals to scary, had astonished the high priestess of her D'Anu Coven. Hannah's power over this form of divination as well as her connection to the Dragon Elementals grew greater as time passed.

The ornate ebony wood frame was fashioned of two Dragons, each biting the tail of the other so that it was a never- ending circle. Hannah rubbed her thumb over one of the intricate carvings. Ebony was the most powerful magical wood and was associated with all of the Elements-Earth, Air, Fire, and Water-and aided her in her communication with the Dragons.

They were her totem and always had been. Even her falcon familiar was the living embodiment of Dragons in her world.

Hannah tried not to grind her teeth at the thought that she and her Coven sisters had been forced to flee their homes in San Francisco for Otherworld, just days ago.

No time for that now. Deep breath. We are going to figure out how to toast that goddess- bitch.

She gripped the soft grass in her fingers as she looked over the mirror. Only Hannah could "see" in the black glass within the ebony frame when she screed.

Hannah pulled a vial of salt crystals from her pack and tugged out the cork, which she then set aside. She leaned forward so that she looked directly over the mirror, her hair swinging forward at the sides of her face. The mirror didn’t show her or Banshee’s reflections.

She concentrated with everything she had, pushing out all other thoughts to still her mind and prepare herself for the vision to come. Silently, she asked for the aid of the Dragon Elementals and the great Druid Ancestors, and she called on Banshee’s powers to strengthen her own.

The falcon's magic joined hers as it .owed through her body.

Come on.....

Her heart rate picked up as it always did before she screed something monumental. The world closed in on her until all that remained was her, Banshee, and the mirror. The forest's sounds and smells vanished and it was as if she floated outside her body.

Time slowed. She tilted the vial and studied the patterns of the salt crystals in the air as they spilled out of the vial and onto the mirror. The vial slipped from her fingers, dropped onto the grass, and rolled away as she braced her hands to either side of the mirror and analyzed those patterns, too.

The thrumming of her heart grew even more rapid until it felt as if her entire body throbbed.

Images appeared in the mirror and she tumbled, tumbled into the vision, all five senses, body and mind and soul, as if the events she visioned were truly happening.

As if she were truly there.

Her heart nearly stopped beating.

Rain pounded down so hard it soaked her to her skin, chilling her, and she had difficulty seeing. But through the downpour she made out humans fleeing from a San Francisco tourist pier. Their terror flooded Hannah so deeply she felt it in her bones. Blood and death and the acrid odor of fear mixed with the rotten- fish stench.

Fomorii demons.

Magic sparked at her fingertips as she caught sight of malformed shapes attacking humans. A scream rose in her throat.

But then something enormous appeared, coming closer. A blast of .re bellowed from it as it spread its wings.

The Fire Dragon. An Elemental.

Terrorizing humans.

No! Not possible.

Inside her vision, Hannah heard herself screaming, begging the Dragon to stop.

And then it turned its .re on her. Heat slammed into her and she screamed again.

Hannah jerked out of the vision and with a gasp she almost fell backward. It took her a moment to realize she was in the present again. Her clothes were dry. She no longer felt as if she were burning from the blast of flames that had engulfed her in the vision.

The images whirled in her mind.

No sense. They make no sense.

She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. Her eyes were moist as if she had felt an emotion deep enough that a tear had wet each eye.

She never cried. Ever. Not since she was a child and had had to live through all of her mother’s choices. She had no tears, wanted no tears. Nothing could make her cry.

Hannah lowered her eyelashes as she looked at the mirror again. It was cold, no vision remaining. But the pattern of the salt crystals remained the same. Whatever change was

coming, it involved her totems.

Especially the Fire Dragon.

Banshee gripped her shoulder tighter and she winced as his talons went through her shirt and bit into her flesh. Her familiar gave a cry, more than likely sensing her fear and confusion. "I’m fine, Banshee." Hannah raised her hand to his beak and he nuzzled his head against her fingers.

She eased into full reality and after a few moments realized that it was nearly dark. How long had she been in the vision? It had seemed like only minutes, but the remnants of sunlight had vanished, leaving only a veil of murky twilight.

Blessed Anu, her heart wouldn't stop pounding and her mind wouldn't stop whirling. Hannah bit the inside of her cheek and stuffed her things into her bag after dribbling the salt crystals from the mirror back into their vial.

Hair prickled at the nape of Hannah's neck.

She went still.

Someone or something was watching her.

Hannah dropped her pack to free her hands so that she could use her magic if she needed to.

She twisted to the right, her hands ready. And caught her breath.

Through the gloom Hannah saw a tall, powerful- looking man. The sudden urges rushing through her body made her breath catch. His broad chest was bare save for straps that crisscrossed his flesh. Gems on the straps glittered in the waning light.

Images flashed through her mind of rubbing her palms over the man's carved biceps, down his .at stomach . . .

She blinked and swallowed, but couldn't take her eyes away from him. Long hair dusted his shoulders, and she wondered how it would feel to run her fingers through the strands that caught the last of the sunlight enough to glimmer slightly. What color was his hair? Dark? Light?

Desire made her shiver as she let her gaze travel lower to where his snug black pants molded to his muscular thighs, trim hips, and-

She swallowed again.

Dear goddess, what had come over her? She couldn't stop looking at him. She felt no fear-more of a recognition....

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