Page 22 of Circle of Fire


  The teenager hesitated a second, then rushed forward and collapsed into her embrace. Maddie rubbed her hands up and down the girl’s half-frozen arms and wondered how in the hell she was going to get them both out of Eleanor’s cage.

  “Where are we?” Teresa clung to her tightly, as if afraid to let go.

  “I don’t know.” Maddie leaned her head back against the wall and studied the cavern beyond their prison. They were somewhere in the mountains, obviously, but more than that she couldn’t guess. But wherever it was, it was a stronghold Eleanor had prepared well. Fear stabbed through her heart and she closed her eyes. Jon would come for her, no matter how many traps Eleanor set for him. And he would die because he was only one man, and he couldn’t fight Eleanor and protect her at the same time.

  She should have listened to him, should have left when she had the chance, instead of lingering that extra night.

  And yet, given the chance to do it all over again, her choice would have remained the same. Maybe it was selfish, but if she had to die, then she wanted it to be with the memory of Jon’s touch still burning across her skin.

  Teresa shifted and glanced up. Her eyes were slightly unfocused. Drugged, Maddie thought, and wondered if it might explain her own unnatural calm.

  “How are we going to get out of here?” Teresa asked.

  Another question she couldn’t answer. Maddie smiled grimly and brushed a limp strand of hair away from the girl’s eyes. “I’ll find a way.” She ran her hands up and down the teenager’s arms for a minute, then frowned. “Did you wake up on the floor, or a bed of some sort?”

  “A bed. Why?”

  “Just curious. Come on, show me.”

  Teresa rose unsteadily. Maddie climbed to her feet, then clung on to the wall as the darkness spun around her. The spinning eased after several deep breaths but didn’t entirely go away. She rubbed the sweat off her forehead and wondered what in hell was wrong. Her skin was so cold that everything ached, and yet inside, it felt as if she were burning up—but it wasn’t her flames. It was something else. Her head alternated between a pounding ache and a weird, spaced-out sort of sensation, and she wasn’t entirely sure which she preferred.

  “This way,” Teresa said softly.

  Walking a few feet locked them back into darkness. Another step had Maddie’s legs bumping into the wooden bed frame. It would make the perfect fire, except for the fact her flames seemed to be absent and she couldn’t set it alight. And even if she could, a fire might attract Eleanor’s attention. Just because she couldn’t see the bitch didn’t mean she wasn’t here.

  Maddie bent down and swept her hand across the surface. Rough wool met her touch. A blanket. She picked it up, then reached out and caught Teresa by the arm. “Here, wrap this around you.”

  “It smells,” she muttered, but pulled the blanket around herself nevertheless.

  The only smell Maddie could make out was unwashed teenager. “I want you to do me a favor, Teresa.”

  “What?” There was suddenly a great deal of wariness in the girl’s voice.

  Which was understandable, considering they were both strangers. The kid might want to trust her, but she wasn’t a complete fool. “If we hear someone coming, I want you to lie down on this bed and pretend to be asleep. No matter what happens, I don’t want you to move or make a sound. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.” Something in her voice suggested it was a charade she’d already played.

  “And if you get the chance, I want you to run as fast as you can out of this place and head down the mountain. Okay?” If this was the same place where Hank had stopped earlier, then there’d be a road for the teenager to find and follow. “A friend of mine should be outside soon, and he’ll help you.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Jon.” Maddie closed her eyes briefly against the sudden ache in her heart. “Come on, let’s get back to the light.”

  They shuffled back to the bars. Maddie leaned her forehead against them, trying to ignore another wash of weakness. After several deep breaths, she studied the cavern once more.

  It was hard to make out any distinct shapes in the uneven light of the sputtering torch. The breeze shivered past her legs, and the smell of snow, citrus, and death was heavy in the air.

  Her stomach rolled again. She clung to the bars and licked her dry lips. When the world stopped spinning again, she glanced up at the torch. The flames were bending to her right, following the lead of the wind.

  “That’s the way to run, Teresa,” she said, pointing to the left of the cavern. “That’s where the breeze is coming from, so there has to be some sort of exit.”

  The teenager nodded. “She never leaves the door unlocked, though.”

  “She only needs to get careless once.” And the chances of that happening were greater now that everything seemed to be going Eleanor’s way.

  The sharp rattle of a stone bouncing across the cavern’s floor made them both jump in fright.

  “Go,” Maddie whispered.

  Teresa scooted across the darkness and disappeared. Maddie dropped to the floor and half closed her eyes, feigning a look of pain. Which wasn’t all that hard, given the sick churning in her stomach.

  The footsteps drew closer and changed from the click of claws to the sharp tap of boot heels. Maddie opened her eyes slightly.

  “How nice. You’re awake,” Eleanor drawled as she stopped next to the metal bars. “How are you feeling?”

  There was no hint of scarring on Eleanor’s right hand, no sign that she’d ever been burned. And yet, as she dug into her pocket and produced a key, her movements were awkward and stiff.

  Had she healed herself with magic, or was she simply presenting an unscarred front?

  “Does it really matter how I feel?” Maddie said.

  Eleanor smiled. It might well have been Death smiling at her. “Of course it matters. I wouldn’t want you dying before the boyfriend gets here.”

  The hint of malice in Eleanor’s sharp features ran dread through Maddie’s soul. Sweat broke out across her forehead, despite the chill in the cavern. Something was wrong. Not with the situation, but within herself. She licked her lips again and glared up at Eleanor. “What have you done to me?”

  Eleanor’s laugh was high and unstable. “Let’s just say you won’t be lighting any funeral pyres for a while—except maybe your own.”

  Maddie stared at her and repeated, “What have you done to me?” The question was little more than a soft croak, her voice almost strangled by fear. Had Eleanor torn away her fire-starting abilities, leaving her no weapon to fight with?

  Eleanor smirked. “I’ve looped your gifts. Try using them on me and they’ll backfire against you.” She stopped and studied Maddie critically. “And I’d say that is already happening. Feel a little hot, my dear?”

  Maddie resisted the temptation to mop her brow. To be killed by her own fires just when she was beginning to understand them had to be one of the great ironies of all time. “Where’s the other teenager?” she asked, trying to bluff for time.

  “Oh, sleeping close by.” Eleanor leaned down and carefully slid the key into the lock, her movements awkward. “Come along, my dear. We have much to arrange.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” It sounded almost childish, but Maddie didn’t really care. If she couldn’t fight, she had to delay. The more Eleanor concentrated on her, the greater chance Teresa had of escaping.

  Eleanor sighed. It was a dramatic sound that didn’t fit the evil in her dark eyes. “I really don’t have time to play right now. Up.”

  She made a motion with her right hand, and something whispered across Maddie’s neck and jerked tight. She gasped and raised her hands to her neck. There was nothing there but a whisper of icy wind entwining her throat. Panic and terror surged, and sweat dimpled her skin. Maddie briefly closed her eyes and struggled to breathe normally. If she lost control of her gifts, she’d kill herself. And that was one amusement she had no intention of p
roviding.

  Eleanor made another pulling motion with her hand, and the wind became a ring of ice that bit deep into Maddie’s neck and wrenched her forward.

  “Up,” Eleanor repeated.

  The leash pulled so tightly against Maddie’s throat she could barely breathe. She scrambled to her feet and the tightness eased, allowing her to drag in great gulps of air. But the sudden movement made the drummer in her head go crazy. Dizziness hit her. She reached for the wall, trying to steady herself.

  Eleanor gave her no time to recover, yanking on the leash again. “Come, my dear. The day is passing, and we have a trap to lay.”

  Her feet felt frozen and half numb, and her legs were so wobbly they didn’t seem strong enough to support her weight. But as she stumbled through the doorway, a fierce sense of elation ran through her. Because as Eleanor continued to force her forward, she didn’t stop to re-lock the door.

  There was still a chance to fulfill her promise to Evan. All she had to do was keep Eleanor occupied long enough for Teresa to slip away.

  “IS NOW THE RIGHT TIME TO ADMIT THAT I DON’T REALLY know that much about witchcraft?” Mack hauled his coat collar up around his neck, leaned his hip against the car, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

  Jon smiled grimly. Mack looked like a man suddenly facing the gates of hell. And it was probably a fair estimation of what awaited them.

  “Eleanor’s not really a witch. She’s a sorcerer. It’s the next step up the ladder.” He stopped carving the end of the small white-ash branch and held it up to the light. A few more cuts and his makeshift dagger would be ready.

  Mack turned and studied the trees, his face giving little away. But Jon could feel his unease, saw the shadow snaking through the agent’s usually confident aura.

  “You suddenly don’t seem in so much of a hurry,” Mack said.

  Jon made a few final cuts along the limb, then put it down to join the other half dozen near his feet. “That’s because I know what Eleanor is capable of, and I have no intention of going up there unarmed.” Which was why he’d made Mack detour past the cabin they’d found Evan in on their way up here. He needed the supplies locked in the back of his truck.

  Mack patted his shoulder. “I have a gun, you know. And backup is on its way.”

  “Eleanor can change shape quicker than you can shoot.” Jon stood up and flexed his leg. The knife wound throbbed in protest, but he could move around fairly normally now, and that was all that mattered. “As for your backup, they have five minutes, then I’m off.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Barnett. You can’t go after this woman alone if you want the kid or your Maddie to survive.”

  Your Maddie. The phrase whispered through his mind, soothing the lonely ache in his soul. Only she wasn’t his Maddie and never could be. He angrily snatched up the white-ash daggers near his feet.

  “Take these and keep them safe,” he said, handing Mack four of the weapons. “They’ll protect you from Eleanor when all else fails.”

  Mack raised a skeptical eyebrow. “How could a few crudely carved bits of wood possibly do that?”

  “They’re made of white ash. It’s an ancient wood deadly to shapeshifters.” He dragged his black bag off the car hood and rummaged around inside until he found the small metal medallion Seline had given him.

  “So white ash can kill you?”

  Jon glanced up sharply. “Yes, it can. Why? Do you plan to use it on me when this is all over?”

  Mack gave him his sharklike grin. “Arrest you, maybe. Kill you, no.” He hesitated and glanced past Jon. “The cavalry just arrived.”

  Jon looked over his shoulder and saw the three police vehicles pull to a halt. Mack strode across to the first car and began a hurried conversation with the driver. Jon listened for a few moments, then turned his attention back to the medallion in his hand. Looped with a shoelace, and so black with age that he couldn’t make out the markings that surrounded the blue-green stone at its heart, it certainly didn’t look like an amulet that would protect him from the worst of Eleanor’s magic. But Seline had assured him that it would work, and she seldom promised what she couldn’t deliver.

  He slid the amulet around his neck, then bent and placed two of the white-ash daggers in his boots. The third he slid into the loop he’d sewn inside his jacket.

  His gaze ran back to the mountain peak lost in the mist and the trees above them. Maddie was up there somewhere, cold and alone and probably terrified. His fault.

  He dragged up the zipper on his jacket and marched across to Mack. “Time to get moving.”

  Mack raised an eyebrow in surprise, but nodded. “How do you want to play it?”

  “Send four men up the trail by that pine. The others follow the trail to our right.” Both were little more than wild goose chases, but they would keep the policemen from interfering too soon. And probably keep them alive in the process. He met Mack’s knowing gaze steadily. “You and I will take the trail near the creek.”

  “You know the drill,” Mack growled to the men. “Let’s move.” Jon turned and walked across to Mack’s car, grabbing Maddie’s backpack from the backseat. She’d need something warm to change into once he’d rescued her. The soft hint of roses spun around him as he put it on.

  “Hope you know what you’re doing.” Mack’s gaze was on the shadow-wrapped trail ahead of them.

  “So do I,” Jon muttered grimly. Because if he didn’t, they were all dead meat.

  THE FLAMES BURNED HIGH BUT WITHOUT ANY HEAT. GRAYISH-GREEN smoke rose, curling lazily toward the stormy sky but fading into the mist long before it reached the treetops.

  But the illusion of heat was better than nothing. Maddie huddled a bare foot away from the fire, stamping half-frozen feet in an effort to keep warm. Mud squished up between her toes and splattered up her legs. It felt clammy, reminding her of Hank’s touch. She licked her lips and thrust the image away. At least the mud protected some of her from the wind’s sharpness.

  Across the clearing, the entrance to the cave sat in darkness. There had been no movement in those shadows as yet, and Maddie hoped Teresa hadn’t gone back to sleep.

  “They’re close. I can feel them.” Eleanor’s whisper held a hint of excitement. “They have the child.”

  A sick sensation rose to the back of Maddie’s throat. She briefly closed her eyes and tried to swallow it away. Surely Jon wouldn’t risk Evan’s life to save hers.

  She had a sudden image of the harsh, almost savage look in his eyes when he’d left her to find Hank, and ran a shaking hand through her matted hair. In some ways, it was frightening to realize she didn’t know what he was capable of.

  She stared at Eleanor. The pale orange and blue flames made the sorcerer’s sharp features look almost skeletal. “Why do you need Evan? You have the other teenager. Isn’t one child’s death enough?”

  Eleanor’s gaze didn’t waver from the luminous star she was drawing in the mud, but her contempt whipped around Maddie, as sharp as a slap.

  “Once it was, but now my need is greater.”

  “Is that why you’ve taken so many children over the last year?”

  Eleanor gave a quick nod, her attention still on the star. “There was a time I only had to sacrifice once every six months. Now it is every month.”

  Maddie wondered why her need had become so desperate that she now had to kill two children a month. And where had Hank fit into all this? “So why the camp? And why snatch them after they’ve left? Surely that’s just making things hard for yourself.”

  “The camps gave me the chance to check out the product before I took it.”

  In other words, she’d treated the camps like her own personal supermarket. Maddie flexed her fingers and wished again that she had her flames. Right now she’d like nothing more than to burn the bitch to cinders. “And the delay?”

  “The cleansing ritual only requires two weeks. It is pointless snatching them before then.” Eleanor stood up and brushed the mud from her hands.
The star at her feet glowed fiercely for several seconds, then quickly faded. She smiled and turned her attention back to Maddie. “And now, for the final trap.”

  Maddie took a step away from the flames—and Eleanor. The invisible band pinched hard against her throat, and it became difficult to breathe again. Sweat trickled down the side of her face. She didn’t need Eleanor’s fire to provide any heat—she had her own. And it was a fire that was steadily growing, making her feel like she was about to burn from the inside out. Her fire, looped by Eleanor’s magic, killing her as surely as she’d killed Brian.

  “Don’t,” she gasped, more as a reminder to herself than a plea to Eleanor. The squeezing eased, regardless, and Maddie licked cracked lips. She had to keep Eleanor talking. Had to hope that Teresa had found the courage to leave the cell and escape. “I just want to ask a question.”

  Eleanor smiled. It seemed to sharpen her features and make her look more like a cat than ever. “We have some time up our sleeve. Ask away.”

  “Just tell me why you’re doing all this. Why do you, an obviously beautiful and powerful young woman, need teenagers?”

  Eleanor’s dark gaze glittered with amusement. “Flattery earns you a few more minutes of freedom. As to the children, they are literally my life, my bloodline.”

  Maddie frowned, not sure whether the fuzzy ache in her head or the fire racing through her veins was responsible for her total lack of comprehension. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Then let me demonstrate.”

  Eleanor waved her hand. The smoke drifting across the clearing spun toward her, encasing her body from sight for several seconds. When it disappeared, Eleanor was gone, replaced by a withered, hunchbacked figure.

  “This is my true self.” The crone’s voice was high and shaky, but undoubtedly Eleanor’s. Something in its tone still whispered of seduction and evil.

  “This is how I will look by midnight if I do not take the virgin blood I need to sustain my life and looks.” The smoke performed its gentle dance, and the more youthful Eleanor reappeared. “As you might guess, I prefer my current form.”