“Bitch!” Mariel spun and lashed out.
Kirby dodged, but not fast enough. Mariel’s nails raked her face, as sharp as any panther’s claws.
“For that, you will both pay.” A knife appeared in midair. Mariel waved a hand, and the blade arrowed toward Doyle. He didn’t move. He wasn’t even looking.
Kirby called the air, directing its power at the blade, then lurched up and grabbed Mariel’s hand while tightening her grip on Trina’s.
The witch’s eyes widened, and for the first time, fear flickered in the depths of her madness. But she could no more fight Kirby’s hold on her than she could the energy that now rushed between them.
Once again, the circle of five had become one.
Power surged, crackling sharply across the silence—a rich, throaty roar that made the storms pale in comparison. The earth shuddered in response, and the sharp sound of shattering concrete filled the air.
Kirby!
Doyle’s shout seemed a million miles away. Energy burned, became a song only she could see and control. Her whole being danced to its tune, aching for its caress.
Kirby! Listen to me.
She frowned, but the music of the energy beckoned and his voice seemed to fade. She smiled, in her mind’s eye seeing the witches’ stones tumble and leap like frogs in the pond that the garage had become.
You must control it, or you’ll kill us all.
The desperation in his voice reached past her euphoria. Memories shuddered through her. She couldn’t kill—not again.
Not innocent bystanders, anyway.
She took a deep breath, then focused the force in on Mariel herself.
Pain exploded—pain so deep it tore through every fiber of her being. She screamed—a sound echoed by both Mariel and Trina. Then the whole world seemed to tear itself apart and she knew no more.
“ARE YOU SURE YOU WON’T COME BACK WITH US?”
Doyle shook his head. “I have to find her, Russ. I can’t leave until I at least talk to her.”
Five days had passed since that fateful fight in the parking garage that had killed the witch and damn near killed him as well. Five days in which he’d been stuck in the hospital, recovering from the wounds the witch had inflicted. He might be a shapeshifter, and capable of fast healing, but even he needed medical help sometimes.
And in those five days, he hadn’t seen or heard from Kirby.
She’d checked out of the hospital the day after they’d both been admitted and had simply disappeared. Worry and fear had been his constant companions from that moment on. What if she was still lost in the dance of energy she’d raised? What if the energy that had blown apart the witch had somehow backwashed and taken her spirit and her mind, as well?
What if she was running from him, from the emotions she feared to face?
The wind stirred, running heated fingers through his hair. He squinted up at the clear blue skies. Though dawn had barely passed, the promise of another hot day was already evident. A good day for hunting, if nothing else.
“You’d better get inside,” he said, returning his gaze to Russell’s bandaged face. “Before the sun hits full strength and you start burning.”
Russell nodded and held out a bandaged hand. “Good luck, my friend.”
“Thanks. I think I’m going to need it.” He glanced past the vampire as Camille appeared in the doorway of the Circle’s private jet. She looked around quickly, then clattered down the steps and bustled toward them. “Looks like you’re about to get in trouble,” he added.
Russell groaned. “It’s going to be a long trip home if the old witch is going to start nagging now.”
“If you don’t watch that smart mouth of yours, vampire, you’ll well and truly hear me nag.” Camille stopped and glared up at Russell. “Now, get that bandaged butt of yours into the plane. We’ve got to get going.”
“My butt isn’t bandaged. Only my face and hands.”
“Seems to be no difference from where I’m standing,” she muttered. “Now, move it.”
Doyle choked back his laugh as Camille turned the full force of her glare at him. “As for you, shifter, be careful. There’s no telling what her state of mind is going to be.”
“I know.” But he couldn’t leave without trying to find her. Without knowing, one way or another, whether she wanted to be a part of his life.
Camille pulled a brush and a scrap of paper from her pocket and slapped both into his hands. “My finding spell finally pinned her down for you. The address where you’ll find her is written on that paper.”
He clenched his fingers around both. “Thanks.”
Camille studied him for a moment, her expression troubled. “What are you going to do if she says no?”
He shrugged. It was a question that had preyed upon his thoughts more than a few times. And the truth was that he simply didn’t know. He loved her, and he would always love her, no matter what. And while he was certain she returned his feelings, he wasn’t sure she had the strength to follow her heart and trust what she felt.
“I’ll see you in a week,” Camille said. “One way or another, this will all be sorted out by then.”
Hopefully for the better, he thought bleakly. He kissed Camille’s leathery cheek and watched her power back toward the stairs. She waved from the top, then ducked inside. Doyle thrust his hands in his pockets and turned away. Time to go find a cab and search out the woman who could still shatter his heart.
KIRBY PLUCKED THE DEAD FLOWER HEADS FROM THE small rosebush, then sat back on her heels. The silvery-purple blush on the remaining flowers seemed to glow in the bright morning light, as if lit by an inner fire.
Helen’s body had been released to the funeral parlor five days ago—the same day she’d checked herself out of the hospital—and while the police investigations were still ongoing, she knew they’d never get their answers. Mariel was dead—blown apart by the very forces she’d tried to control.
They were forces that would not—at least in Kirby’s lifetime—be joined again. She’d felt both the earth and fire powers slip from her grasp as she’d fallen unconscious. She had no idea where they went or what would happen to them. Perhaps they waited in the ether. Perhaps sometime in the future, two children would be born with the ability to raise fire or shake the earth. She hoped those children would not be forced to kill, as she and Helen and the other girls in the circle had.
Kirby closed her eyes. She’d killed once again, but this time she didn’t really regret it. Mariel had deserved her fate.
At least Helen had been cremated, as she’d wished. This rose and the small nameplate underneath it were all the indication that anyone of any importance lay buried here under the turf. It didn’t seem right, somehow. Surely Helen deserved more.
The wind stirred, briefly kissing her cheeks. She closed her eyes, reaching for that faint caress.
“Remember, sister, all that lies under the rose are the ashes of my body.” Helen’s voice was distant, as gentle as the breeze itself. “I am one with the wind now and forever within your reach.”
Tears stung her eyes. Because of Helen’s sacrifice, she would never be alone, no matter what happened between her and Doyle. And yet, given the option, she’d rather have a flesh-and-blood sister standing beside her any day.
“I’m finally happy, Kirby, and I’m not alone. Other storm witches glide the breezes with me.” Fingers of wind playfully tugged at her hair. “Don’t be compelled to stay where my ashes lie. They don’t matter in the scheme of things. It is time you looked after yourself.”
As Helen’s words swirled around her, Kirby felt the last vestiges of guilt vanish. She’d done all she could—not just for Helen, but for Trina. Helen’s insurance money would pay for the care Trina needed, and the doctors were hopeful that, with time, she’d return to normal. Or as normal as any of them could ever be, given what they’d been through.
Helen was right. There was nothing to be gained by staying here, mourning someone whose spirit
had not died. It was time for her to move on, to put the half-forgotten memories of the past behind her forever and start looking toward the future.
A future that depended greatly on the reaction of the thief who’d snuck past her defenses and stolen her heart.
She rose and turned—only to freeze in surprise. Doyle stood twenty feet away, his arms crossed and stance casual.
Joy surged within her, fierce and hard, and for an instant, all she wanted to do was run into his arms and shower him with kisses. But the eyes she loved so much were wary, and the link that had allowed them to read each other’s thoughts and emotions was still, as devoid of life as his expression. Fear stirred in her stomach. What if, sometime in the last five days, he’d changed his mind?
She licked her lips. “How are you feeling?” It was an inane thing to say, but the words she wanted to say lay lodged somewhere in her throat, frozen by the caution in his eyes.
“Better now, knowing that you are whole and sane.”
She winced at the soft rebuke in his voice, but knew it was well deserved.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that with the police and Trina, and …” Her voice faded. It sounded like she was putting him behind everyone else on her list of priorities, and that was far from the truth. He’d been in her thoughts every hour of every day, even if she’d made no effort to contact him. But then, she hadn’t really needed to. She’d known he was okay, just as surely as he’d known she was.
But it wasn’t their physical well-being that hung in the balance right now—it was their emotional one. Had he changed his mind? She couldn’t tell, and it scared her more than anything ever had.
There was only one way she was going to find out. She took a deep breath and gathered her courage.
“Do you remember that question you asked? The one I wouldn’t answer?”
He didn’t move, didn’t react in any way. “I’m not likely to forget such a question.”
Her stomach tightened. She stared at him for a moment longer, then said softly, “The answer is yes.”
He didn’t react for what seemed like an eternity. Then a sexy grin split his lips, and the link opened between them, flooding her entire being with warmth, love and happiness. She ran toward him and he laughed, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around until her head spun. Then he kissed her, his lips hot and urgent, devouring hers until it felt like her heart was spinning as fast as her head.
Breathless and giddy, she broke away, staring into his beautiful blue eyes. “I gather the answer is something of a relief?”
“You could say that.” His thumb traced the line of her cheek, his touch gentle yet making her whole body tremble. “Do you have anything else here that you need to do?”
She glanced down at Helen’s grave, then wrapped her arms around his neck and shook her head. “Why?”
“How long would it take you to pack?”
“Five minutes.” Everything she wanted to keep was already in storage. Everything else had been given away. “Why?”
“I’m asking the questions here, missy.” Mischief and love danced in his eyes. “What about a passport?”
She smiled. “I ordered one four days ago and paid extra for priority service. It arrived this morning.”
“Then how do you feel about a Las Vegas wedding?”
Her heart danced at the thought. She raised her eyebrows, barely checking her grin. “Making sure you get me to the altar before I change my mind, huh?”
“Exactly.” His mouth claimed hers again, but this time it was more a lingering promise of the night yet to come.
She sighed against his lips. “Las Vegas seems so far away.”
“More than twenty hours,” he agreed. He slid his hand down her back, cupping her rear and pulling her so close that their bodies almost seemed fused together. “Of course, I have several suggestions that’ll while away the flight time.”
“In front of a plane full of people? I thought you weren’t an exhibitionist.” She raised her eyebrows again, even though her pulse quickened at the thought.
“I’m not. I own a jet, and it comes complete with discreet staff and a bed big enough to get lost in.”
“My, we were a successful thief, weren’t we?”
“Yes. But my greatest acquisition is the one I’m now holding in my arms.” His smile shimmered through her. “I do love you, you know.”
“And I you,” she said, then added dryly, “Mind you, if all you’re intending to do is merely hold me and talk, I may have to reconsider my answer.”
He laughed—a warm, happy sound that sang through her entire being.
“Las Vegas, here we come,” he said, grabbing her hand and racing her toward the waiting taxi.
By Keri Arthur
THE DAMASK CIRCLE SERIES
Circle of Fire
Circle of Death
THE NIKKI AND MICHAEL SERIES
Dancing with the Devil
Hearts in Darkness
Chasing the Shadows
Kiss the Night Goodbye
THE RIPPLE CREEK WEREWOLF SERIES
Beneath a Rising Moon
Beneath a Darkening Moon
THE DARK ANGELS SERIES
Darkness Unbound
Darkness Rising
Darkness Devours
Darkness Hunts
Darkness Unmasked
Darkness Splintered
THE MYTH AND MAGIC SERIES
Destiny Kills
Mercy Burns
THE RILEY JENSON GUARDIAN SERIES
Full Moon Rising
Kissing Sin
Tempting Evil
Dangerous Games
Embraced by Darkness
The Darkest Kiss
Deadly Desire
Bound to Shadows
Moon Sworn
If you loved Circle of Fire, be sure not to miss the exciting final novel in the Damask Circle series
by
Keri Arthur
And stay tuned for the start of the riveting Spook Squad trilogy with Memory Zero, coming in Fall 2014.
Here’s a special preview:
AIR HISSED THROUGH THE SILENCE. TENDRILS OF smoke began to curl past the window frames, its color luminous yet sickly. Katherine Tanner tugged one of the two white ash stakes strapped to her jeans free and clenched it tightly. On the opposite side of the room, a little girl slept on, oblivious to the smoky slivers of evil beginning to slip past the window. Kat hoped she remained unaware, but how likely was that, given her kidnapper seemed to be targeting children born into shifter families? While not all shifters were sensitive to magic, many were. It was a part of their soul, after all, even if a child this young would not be able to shift form. Not until puberty, anyway.
Kat was keeping her fingers crossed that this kid did get the chance to hit puberty.
Because if Gwen’s premonition was right—and her grandmother’s premonitions usually were—this child would be the next to go missing. They’d done everything they could to prevent that. They’d nailed the windows shut, they had cops patrolling close by, and warding stones had been placed around the child’s bed to prevent any magic from coming close.
But these wards weren’t designed to stop evil itself—and that’s what was seeping into this room tonight. Kat’s stomach began to churn. Though she’d spent the last ten years hunting the rogue elements of the supernatural community that preyed on humans, she’d never come across anything that went after kids the way this thing did. She had never met anything that did to them what this thing did.
She closed her eyes, fighting tears, trying not to relive the moment two nights before when they’d stepped into that old factory and found the body of the second missing four-year-old. Daniel had been unmarked except for two small puncture wounds on his neck. Though he’d been drained of blood, this was not what had caused his death. Only those gifted with psychic sight would ever see that.
Something had stolen his soul—had ripped it from his body between the be
ats of his heart. He’d died quickly, but in pain. Terrible, terrible pain.
She didn’t want to face the thing that could do something like that. No one in their right mind would. But she had no choice, simply because the Damask Circle’s resources were stretched to the limits right now, and there was no one else free to make the trip to Oregon.
She gripped the stake tighter and watched the smoke draw together and find shape, becoming a scantily clad, extremely beautiful woman.
Evil came in all shapes and sizes, but for some reason Kat hadn’t expected it to take the form of such Oriental perfection. And maybe it was just her own maternal instincts coming to the fore, but she just couldn’t understand how any woman could harm a child—particularly one so young.
But this was the thing snatching the kids. It had the same sense of deeply entrenched corruption that she’d felt in the other bedrooms.
The woman stepped toward the child. Kat tensed but fought the urge to move, sensing the show wasn’t over yet. Her fingers ached with the force of her grip on the stake. She had no idea whether it would actually kill the soul-sucker or not, but at the very least it would do some serious damage and give her time to yell for reinforcements.
A cold smile touched the woman’s bloodless lips, then she turned and tried to open the window. It didn’t budge, held steady by the nails placed there earlier. The woman stepped back and energy surged, crawling like fire across Kat’s skin. The nails slithered from the wood and dropped softly to the floor. The woman lifted the window and leaned out.
A gaunt, dark-haired figure appeared, and the sensation of evil increased tenfold. The vampire’s dead gaze scanned the room, stopping when it reached the shadows in which Kat stood. Though she was certain he couldn’t see past her grandmother’s wards, he really didn’t need to. Not with the frantic beat of her heart.