Page 38 of Stolen


  "No deal," Paige said. "But if you concede, I'll let you go."

  Katzen flipped his wrist. This time Paige mumbled a few words and stayed his hand. He flexed his fingers, easily snapping the binding spell, but when he tried the gesture again, Paige cast another spell, stopping his hand before he completed the motion.

  "Good try," he said. "But you're wasting your time. No witch, particularly an apprentice, can hope to out-fight a sorcerer. I'm sure you know your history. You witches are so good at remembering the past. All you have left, really. Rather sad."

  "I know my history lessons," Paige said. "Any true powers sorcerers have came from witches. We taught you everything, but when the Inquisition began, did you protect us? No. The moment you were targeted, you handed them our heads on a silver platter. We gave you power and you betrayed us."

  "Perhaps I was wrong," Katzen said. "History isn't all you have left. There's bitterness, too. Bitterness and envy."

  Katzen lifted both hands. Paige's lips moved, but before any spell came out, she vaulted into the air. She hit the ground rolling from the impact, then vanished. Disappeared. Katzen scanned the floor.

  "A cover spell. How original." He turned, stomped down one foot, turned again, stomped again, as if trying to squash a fleeing ant.

  Katzen's barrier surrounded him and Paige, trapping Adam on the far side of the hall. Adam's eyes glowed red as he pounded at the barrier, but even his power couldn't break through. Clay paced along our side, running his hands over the barrier, trying to find a breach. I cradled Savannah as I checked for broken bones. She seemed okay, just bruised and dazed.

  Katzen continued to stomp the floor, moving a few inches with each blow. "Tell me when I'm getting close, witch. You know I'll find you. All you have to do is move and you're caught. That's the trouble with witch spells, isn't it? You can only defend yourself. You can't fight back."

  A shape shimmered a few feet from Katzen. Paige, lips moving.

  "Paige!" I shouted, warning her that she was revealing herself.

  Before Katzen could turn, a fiery ball swooped from the ceiling, struck him in the chest, and exploded. He reeled back, coughing, clothing singed. He whipped his head around, searching for Paige. One of his short dreadlocks ignited and smacked his cheek, leaving a bright red patch. He snarled and slapped the fire out, then looked around again. Paige was gone.

  "Well done, witch," he said. "Been reading sorcerer grimoires?"

  He started to say more, then stopped, turning as if something had caught his eye. His lips curved in a slow grin. I followed his gaze to Leah's cell. Katzen's grin broadened, and he flipped his hand, murmured a few words. There was a click, too soft for human ears to detect. Then Leah's door creaked open an inch. Inside, she sat up, her magazine sliding to the floor. She walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out.

  CHAPTER 46

  DEMONSTRATION

  "You're missing all the fun, my dear," Katzen said as

  Leah stepped from her cell. "Why don't you take the girl someplace safe while I deal with this one."

  Leah blinked, momentarily disoriented as she scanned the hall, gaze crossing the unfamiliar figures of Clay, Adam, and Paige. I eased Savannah off my lap and stood. Leah saw the motion and turned.

  "I should have guessed," she said. "Welcome back, Elena."

  Clay was easing toward us, trying not to attract her attention until he was close enough to lunge. On the other side of the invisible barrier, Adam paced, eyes smoldering. I sidestepped in front of Savannah.

  "Don't even think about it," I said.

  "Leah?" Savannah said, still sounding dazed. She struggled to her feet behind me. "Can--can you help us?"

  Leah smiled. "Of course I can."

  I threw myself at Leah. Something struck me in the back of the head. As I pitched forward, every thing went dark. I jolted back to consciousness as I hit the cement floor. Clay's arms were around me, pulling me up.

  "Savannah," I said, clambering to my feet.

  I staggered, still woozy from the blow. The room swirled. Blood dripped hot against the back of my neck. Clay tried to steady me, but I pushed him away.

  "Help Savannah," I said.

  Clay grabbed for Savannah, who now stood in front of us. But his hand didn't make contact. It stopped short as it had when he'd hit the invisible barrier around Katzen and Paige.

  "No interference from you, wolf-man," Katzen said. "We don't need your kind or the fire-demon. Take your friend and your mate, and leave before this witch whets my appetite for a stronger challenge."

  I tottered forward and bumped into the barrier surrounding Savannah and Leah. My head still spun. When I pounded my fists against the invisible wall, the recoil from my own blows sent me stumbling back. As Clay caught me, I saw something on the floor. A book, presumably from Katzen's cell. The corner was flecked with blood. My blood. I stared at it. A book. Leah had hit me with an ordinary book, thrown hard enough to knock me out and draw blood. I looked at Savannah and fear filled me.

  "Let her go," I said. "She's only a kid."

  Leah rolled her eyes. "Don't go pulling that 'innocent child' crap on me, Elena. Savannah is twelve years old. Hardly a little girl. And hardly innocent." She smiled at Savannah. "But I don't mind that. I'll look after you."

  Savannah looked from me to Leah, still confused. In that moment I realized what Leah had been up to, staging all those flying-object events and blaming Savannah. She'd tried to make herself the girl's only ally, the only one who would accept her no matter what she did. In addition, Leah had somehow allied herself with Katzen, as Paige suspected. Together they'd staged the whole horror show the night I escaped. But to what purpose? It didn't matter. Right now all that mattered was that Paige was trapped with Katzen, and Savannah was in danger of leaving with Leah. I couldn't do much about the first part, but the second ...

  "She is innocent," I said. "Innocent of every thing that happened in here. Why don't you tell her who really attacked all those guards, who really killed Ruth Winterbourne. Flying objects ... telekinetic half-demon. Hmmm, could there be a connection?"

  "But--" Savannah blinked looking from me to Leah. "You--wouldn't do that."

  "Of course I wouldn't," Leah said. "I'd never hurt you, Savannah."

  "No?" I said. "What about that flying glass? Do you think that tickled? But you weren't there, were you? You conveniently appeared after that was over."

  Savannah's gaze swiveled from Leah to me and back.

  "Okay," she said quietly. "If you're my friend, Leah, then let them go. Tell him to let Paige go. She didn't do anything wrong. Let them go and come with us."

  "I can't do that, Savannah," Leah said. "They don't understand you. They'll take you away and, when things go bad, they won't understand. I'm the only one--"

  "No!" Savannah shouted.

  Her body jerked upright. For a moment, I thought Katzen had her again. I threw myself at the barrier, then saw the look on Savannah's face. Her eyes blazed and her features were contorted in rage. Her lips moved.

  Leah reached for the girl, then froze in mid-motion. Confusion flickered in her eyes, then dawning comprehension, then the faintest stain of fear. She didn't move. Didn't even twitch a muscle. I looked at Savannah. Her eyes were fixed on Leah.

  "My God," Paige whispered. "She's bound her."

  Katzen didn't seem to notice Paige had reappeared, breaking her cover spell. Instead he stared at Savannah, then started to laugh.

  "Now there's power," he said. He looked down at Paige sitting on the floor. "That's a binding spell, witch. Maybe you should have asked her for lessons before you decided to take me on. Too bad. I would have enjoyed a real workout."

  He snapped his hand and Paige sailed backward into the wall. She hit the floor rolling and vanished. Katzen renewed his stomping quest. Behind them, Savannah stood with her back to the action, binding Leah. Adam, Clay, and I watched, helpless, our attention torn between the two battles.

  Paige shimmered as she cast a sp
ell. Katzen whirled in time to see her just two feet behind him, and his foot flew out, catching her in the stomach before she finished the words. Wheezing, Paige rolled out of his way and struggled to her feet. She repeated the spell. Another fiery sphere erupted from nowhere, this one striking Katzen between the shoulder blades and knocking him to his knees. As he fell, he lifted his hands and Paige catapulted into the air, rushing at the ceiling. She said something and the sorcerer's spell broke abruptly, dropping her to the floor with a bone-jarring thud. She rolled and disappeared behind another cover spell.

  "An impressive but sadly limited repertoire," Katzen said, getting to his feet. "Those fire balls won't kill me, witch. You know that."

  "Oh, I know," Paige said, appearing a dozen feet behind him.

  Katzen spun to face Paige. She sat cross-legged on the floor, making no move to stand.

  "But I'll bet I can kill you," she said. "In fact, I can do it without touching you, without even standing up."

  Katzen laughed. "Ah, here it comes. The bluff. Do your best, witch. Then I'll do mine."

  Paige closed her eyes and said a few words. Katzen braced himself. I held my breath. But nothing happened. Katzen hesitated, then started to laugh. Paige turned her head and looked at Clay. He caught her eye and nodded, then sidestepped toward the invisible wall ... and walked right through it. The barrier was gone. Katzen didn't notice.

  "Damn," Paige muttered. "Can I--uh--try that again?"

  Katzen roared with laughter. I sprang to my feet and leaped at him. Clay and Adam lunged at the same time, and all three of us hit Katzen together. His hands flew up to cast a spell. I snatched his wrists, clasping them so tight the bones snapped. Katzen gasped. Clay grabbed his head and twisted. The sorcerer's body convulsed, striking Adam in his wounded side and knocking him backward. Then Katzen went limp. Clay checked his pulse, waited for his heart to stop, then dropped him.

  "He's dead."

  The pronouncement came not from Clay, but from across the hall. From Savannah. We all turned to see her still holding Leah in the spell, her back to us. She hadn't turned. Hadn't seen the fight, unable to tear her eyes from Leah without breaking the spell.

  "He's dead," she said again, and I realized she was talking to Leah. "It's over."

  Leah's face went white. Outrage and grief flooded her eyes. A rumbling filled the room. A loud crack. Then another. A chunk of plaster flew from the wall behind me. The lightbulbs exploded. I wheeled toward Savannah as a chair shot from Katzen's cell. It struck Savannah in the back and she crumpled. I rushed at her, but not fast enough. She toppled backward onto the floor. Paige and I grabbed her at the same time. Glass swirled around us, mingling with a whirlwind of dust from falling plaster. Clay shouted. Then Adam. Paige and I bent over Savannah, protecting her from the hailstorm of debris. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. And Leah was gone.

  Clay and I followed Leah's trail outside, but we didn't get far before a familiar voice hailed us. Jeremy stepped from the woods, Cassandra and Kenneth in tow.

  "What happened?" Jeremy asked, taking in our dust-covered clothes and glass-nicked skin.

  Reaching out, he wiped a dribble of blood from my cheek. I leaned back against him, closing my eyes to indulge in a brief moment of peace.

  "You're okay?" he murmured.

  "Alive," I said. "Everyone is."

  I gave Jeremy a full report, concluding with Leah's escape. Although I wanted to go after her immediately, Jeremy nixed that plan. He was more concerned with stopping Tyrone Winsloe and finding any remaining staff members. If Leah was on the run, she posed no immediate danger. It was a long walk to the nearest phone. We could stop her later. Right now we needed to make sure no humans left the compound and took our secrets with them.

  "Clay and I will go look for Winsloe," I said.

  "I'll come with you," Cassandra said. "We found only one guard, and Jeremy took care of him. Tyrone Winsloe may be my last chance for some actual combat."

  "Elena and I can handle this," Clay said. "If you want something to do, Cassandra, go skulk around the second floor, see if you can find any warm food."

  Cassandra only smiled. "No, thank you, Clayton. I'll wait for Wins loe. He should be quite warm when you finish with him."

  "Oh, that reminds me," I said. "There's still one captive left. He might be a vampire, but we're not sure. Would you mind taking a look, Cassandra? If he is a vampire, you can tell me whether it's safe to release him. You'd know, right?"

  She nodded. "There aren't many vampires in North America. If he's one of us, I should recognize him."

  After we all returned to the cell block, I led Cassandra down the hall toward the remaining captive. As we walked, I tried to think up a way to keep Cassandra from accompanying Clay and me on our search for Winsloe. I didn't want her there. Winsloe was mine. I owed him for every thing he'd done, every thing he'd threatened to do. His death would be a private matter, something I would share only with Clay.

  We arrived at the cell before I came up with a plan. Cassandra took one look at the man inside and blinked. Hard.

  "You know him?" I asked.

  She paused, seeming to debate whether to lie. "He's a vampire."

  I interpreted that to mean she did know him. "Is he dangerous?"

  "Not really. Not very useful either. I wouldn't be in any rush to release him. He'll only get in the way. We can come back later."

  She turned to go. I grabbed her arm. Her skin was cool to the touch, like someone who'd spent the day in an air-conditioned office.

  "What if something happens and we can't release him later?" I said. "Or is that a chance you're willing to take, like when I was being held captive?"

  The words were out of my mouth before I realized it. Cassandra turned and studied my face.

  "So Clayton told you," she said. "I'd have thought he'd want to spare your feelings. It wasn't like that, Elena. You're a werewolf. A warrior. A bright, resourceful warrior. You didn't need my help to escape. There was nothing I could have done."

  "And the others? You counseled them not to help me. To let me rot here."

  Cassandra sighed. "It wasn't like that, Elena."

  "And the thing with Clay? Making a pass at him before my side of the bed was cold?"

  "I wouldn't call it a 'pass.' Clayton is a very intriguing man. Perhaps I was a little too intrigued, but you can hardly blame me for that. Now you're back. He's your man. I respect that. You needn't worry about me."

  I smiled, baring my teeth. "Trust me, Cassandra, I wasn't worried." I glanced at the man in the cell. "But I am concerned for this poor guy. I'm letting him out."

  Cassandra blanched, then quickly recovered her composure. "Suit yourself."

  She turned and headed down the hall, walking faster than I'd ever seen her move. Fleeing the scene? Hmmm.

  I opened the cell door. The man turned and gave me a wary once-over.

  "Yes?" he said, polite but cool.

  "Hi, I'm Elena." I extended my hand. "Your rescuer for today."

  "Oh?" Still cool. Brows arching. No effort to shake my hand.

  "You want out?" I asked.

  He smiled, a touch of warmth defrosting the chill. "Actually, I was getting quite comfortable here, but if you insist, I suppose I could tear myself away."

  "We have an old friend of yours with us. She's eager to see you."

  "Friend?"

  "Cassandra ... I'm not sure of the last name. Auburn hair. Green eyes. Vampire."

  "Cassandra?" His eyes narrowed. "Where?"

  "Right down that hall."

  I leaned out the door. The man brushed past me and marched into the hall.

  "Cassandra!" he yelled.

  Halfway down the hall, Cassandra turned. Slowly.

  "Aaron!" she called. Her lips stretched in a wide smile as she headed back to us. "My God, is that really you? How long has it been? All these years and you know, you haven't changed a bit."

  "Very funny," Aaron said. "Now, Cass--"


  She gathered his hands in hers and pecked his cheek. "I can't believe this. When did I last see you? Nineteen seventeen, wasn't it? Philadelphia?"

  "Nineteen thirty-one, Romania," Aaron growled, disengaging himself from Cassandra's embrace. "Fifth stop on our Grand Tour. We could have gone to Prague, Warsaw, Kiev, but no, you had to stop in some Romanian backwater so you could amuse yourself playing Dracula for the peasants. And I'm sure it would have been very amusing if you'd been the one locked in a church cellar for three days and almost drowned in a vat of holy water."

  "It was a mistake," Cassandra murmured.

  "Mistake? You left me there!"

  "She abandoned you?" I said. "Fancy that."

  "Oh, no," Aaron said, his glare boring through Cassandra. "She didn't just abandon me. She gave me to them. Her little prank got out of hand, and when the mob came, she saved herself by handing me over."

  "It wasn't like that," Cassandra said.

  "I'm sure it wasn't," I said. "Well, I guess you two have a lot of catching up to do. Go ahead, Cassandra. Clay and I can handle Winsloe on our own."

  As I walked away, Cassandra tried to follow, but Aaron grabbed her arm. They were still getting reacquainted as Clay and I left the cell block to find Winsloe.

  CHAPTER 47

  RETALIATION

  The dog was in the kennel.

  We smelled Winsloe as soon as we got within twenty feet of the out-building. We scouted the perimeter as I whispered my plan to Clay. Before I finished, he reached for my arm, stopping me.

  "You sure about this, darling?" he asked.

  "Oh, I'm sure. Aren't you?"

  Clay pulled me closer and tipped my face up to his. "I'm sure I want to do it, and I'm damned sure the bastard deserves it. It's certainly poetic justice. But is it really what you want?"

  "It's what I want."

  "All right, then. If there's any trouble, though, I'm taking him down."

  "No, I will."

  Clay hesitated. "Okay, darling. If we have a choice, he's yours. But I won't hold back if you're in danger."

  "Agreed."

  We headed for the kennel.

  Winsloe sat in the rear of the middle dog run. His back was to the wall, knees up, pistol trained on the door. Once we'd determined his position by peering through the dusty windows, we chose a course of action. Obviously, barreling through the door was out of the question. We weren't bullet proof. Since the entrance was to Winsloe's left, I selected the window closest to his right. Clay hoisted me, and I carefully unhooked the latches, pulled the pane free, and handed it down to Clay. The opening was roughly two feet square, too small for Clay, so I had to go it alone. He boosted me higher, and I wriggled through feet first, straining to hear Winsloe below, ready to yank myself out if he so much as moved. He didn't. Once my lower torso cleared the window, I grabbed the upper sill with both hands, swung sideways, and pounced, landing on Winsloe's head and shoulders. He screamed. I grabbed his gun and flung it over the wire fence into the adjoining cage.