Circle of Fire Read online

  “Who does she plan to attack?”

  “I don’t know—” She hesitated.

  The woman turned. There was malice on her face, malice in the air, so thick Maddie suddenly struggled to breathe. Jon called her name urgently, but he sounded so very far away. She stared at the woman with the vibrant green eyes until they all but filled her vision, became a turbulent ocean awash with venom.

  “You are mine,” the woman spat. “Mine.”

  Maddie screamed, and the dream disintegrated into darkness.

  “MADDIE, COME BACK TO ME.”

  She didn’t respond, didn’t move. She breathed in rapid gasps that shuddered through her body, and sweat trickled down her cheeks. Jon thumbed the droplets away. Her skin was cold despite the room’s heat.

  He frowned and glanced at the fireplace. Flames flickered, slowly catching the small logs she must have placed there earlier. But the temperature in the room seemed to have jumped 10 degrees in the last few minutes, and the fire certainly couldn’t account for it. Was it his imagination, or something else?

  She suddenly pushed his hand away, her eyes wide and unfocused like those of a dreamer fighting a dream. Her fear smothered him, making it difficult to breathe, to concentrate. He wondered why he was so open to her when he’d spent most of his life perfecting the art of blocking other people’s emotions—and his own.

  She pushed her fingers through her hair, her hands shaking. He sat back on his heels, watching her carefully. Something had frightened her enough to rip her from the vision, but she was not yet aware of him or their surroundings. Her mind was still caught in the backwash of the trance.

  Which meant her gift was raw. Few trained clairvoyants were unable to pull out of a vision cleanly. He wondered how strong her gift was, how true. And how long she’d gone without seeking help. He suddenly wished he could call his mother. She was a strong clairvoyant and would know how to handle this situation.

  “Maddie,” he said softly.

  The amber fire in her eyes began to burn more brightly as her awareness returned. She blinked rapidly, then took a deep, shuddering breath. The blanket of fear intensified.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She pushed the chair backward and scrambled to her feet, every movement frantic, as if desperate to escape.

  He reached out to caress her hand, but she jerked her fingers away from his touch. He frowned and rubbed his fingertips together. Now her skin was burning hot. What the hell was going on?

  She stopped in front of the fire, her back to him, her stance withdrawn. She looked isolated and very frightened. The firelight ran through her hair, making it burn a vibrant, molten gold. Such a pretty color, he thought, and so at odds with the darkness that seemed to haunt her.

  He had no real experience in dealing with untrained talents, and no real time to help her. Not with only five days to find the missing kids. But any information, however minor, might provide the breakthrough he needed. She’d definitely seen something in that dream, and that something just might make his task of rescuing the kids easier.

  He sat astride the chair. Though she made no sound, her shoulders tensed. She was ready for a blow, whether a verbal or a physical one. Anger uncoiled in his belly, and for an instant, he was very glad he’d only just met her. Otherwise, he might have been tempted to seek out the fool who’d hurt her so much.

  He leaned his forearms against the wooden backrest and fully opened the gate to his empathic abilities. He needed her to talk to him, and he had a feeling it would require all his resources. One wrong word and she’d retreat farther—mentally if not physically.

  “Your gift is nothing unusual, Maddie,” he said softly.

  She laughed—a harsh sound that made him wince. “What do you know about it? Have you ever suffered these dreams, or the endless taunts of your friends?”

  He held back a bitter smile. In the ten years he’d worked for the Damask Circle, he’d seen and suffered more than she could imagine. “Clairvoyance is not so bad once you learn to control it.”

  Her fingers clenched by her side. “But I can’t control it. I can’t control any of it.”

  He had an odd feeling she wasn’t talking about clairvoyance when she spoke of control. Did she have another gift she couldn’t contain? “Didn’t anyone try to teach you? Your mother, perhaps?”

  Again she laughed bitterly. “No.”

  That one word spoke volumes. Obviously, she’d been left on her own to cope with her gift. Why? Abilities like this usually ran through generations, so surely there had been someone to guide her.

  “Did your parents even know you were gifted?”

  “They thought I was deranged.” Though her voice was bitter, her confusion washed over him, along with a hint of guilt.

  He wondered why. “Did they seek outside help, then?”

  “Only in the form of psychiatrists.” She snorted softly. “I lived in a small town, Jon, with small-town fears. I was an oddity, a freak. My parents tried very hard to make me appear normal, but people knew.”

  The horror of her childhood was evident in the dark swirl through her aura. He silently cursed the fools who had brought her up to fear, even loathe, her gift.

  “Then tell me about your gifts.” It was evident from the way she stood that he wouldn’t get much more about her past until she trusted him more.

  “There’s nothing to tell. I’m just a freak.”

  If she was a freak, then what was he? What would she say if she ever saw him change? Not that she ever would. That was one secret he shared with the very few people whom he trusted completely. “Maddie, you have a gift that can be valuable if you want to save your nephew. It doesn’t make you a freak.”

  Only the attitude of uncaring people could do that. And someone in her past, someone other than her parents, had obviously torn her to shreds over her gift. He sensed that much.

  He flexed the tension from his fingers and glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten o’clock. Time was running out. If he didn’t get moving soon, another day would be wasted. “Tell me about the people you saw.”

  Her shoulders tensed again. “I told you what I saw. It doesn’t make sense.”

  To her, it wouldn’t. She didn’t know the woman was a shapeshifter, and he had no intention of telling her. It would only lead to questions he didn’t want to answer. “The clairvoyant image isn’t always clear, especially if you haven’t been trained. Sometimes you have to interpret it.”

  Finally, she turned around and looked at him, and he was pleased to see the fear in her eyes had retreated slightly.

  “How do you know so much about clairvoyants?”

  He smiled. “My mother and three of my sisters are clairvoyants.”

  She raised a pale eyebrow, the ghost of a smile touching her lips. “Three of your sisters? Just how many do you have?”

  “Five sisters and two brothers. You?”

  The warm light in her eyes faded, to be replaced by ice. “A sister,” she muttered, looking away. “My brother died when I was young.”

  And Maddie felt guilty about it. He wanted to ask why, but knew he’d pushed enough for one day. “Tell me about the cabin you saw.”

  She shivered and rubbed her arms. “It was an old log cabin. I could see the gaps between the logs, so it wasn’t insulated or anything.”

  “There are probably dozens of cabins fitting that description, but at least it gives me somewhere to start.”

  She frowned at him. “Gives us somewhere to start, you mean.”

  He really did admire her determination, even if it also annoyed him. “I don’t intend to argue about this—”

  “Good, because I’m going.”

  Jon swore softly but knew he couldn’t afford to say any more—at least not here at the inn where his voice might be heard.

  The heat in the room was quickly abating. Maddie pushed warm strands of hair from her eyes, then crossed her arms. It was more a defensive action than an attempt to stave off the rising chill in the a
ir. The fire, he noted, definitely wasn’t the source of the earlier warmth.

  “How are you going to get out of the inn without being seen?” she asked.

  “Same way I got in—via a window.”

  He rolled his shoulder. It still ached—and probably would for days yet—but he had the full range of movement back. And that meant a brief flight to the heavily treed park just down the road from the shops shouldn’t cause too many problems. Replacing his missing clothes had to be his first priority. He might not feel the cold that much, but walking around in short sleeves would only draw unwanted attention—and that was something he certainly didn’t need right now. Then he’d go retrieve his truck—which had, no doubt, been towed away from the three-hour parking zone where he’d left it. With a bit of luck, the weapons he’d stashed in the specially built compartment would still be there.

  She raised an eyebrow. “And where will I meet you?”

  He scratched his head but knew there was no getting rid of her. Not this time. “There’s a small café called Emerson’s near the bridge.” He’d heard it mentioned the night he disappeared. There was an odd chance he still might find a clue there. Besides, he was still hungry, even after eating the breakfast she’d ordered. “Get us a table, and I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

  She nodded and grabbed her old coat off the nearby sofa as she walked toward the door. Then she stopped and turned around, her amber eyes searching his. “You won’t leave me sitting there, will you?”

  “No,” he said, and wondered who had.

  She hesitated, her gaze still searching his. After a moment, she gave a small nod and continued on toward the door. He wondered what she’d seen in his eyes that made her trust him when she obviously trusted so very few.

  He listened to the sound of her steps fading down the hall, then tugged his father’s ring from his finger once again and walked into the bathroom. He wished he could take it with him, but it was made of silver and wouldn’t change. In fact, silver in general could be dangerous to shifters, but he’d been wearing the ring for so long he’d developed some immunity to it. He placed it back behind the vent, then slid open the window. The wind whistled in, but he ignored its chill touch and leaned out. No one was near. Good.

  He reached down, deep within his soul, and called to the wildness. It came in a rush of power that filled his vision with gold and dulled his senses as it shaped and changed his body. Then the freedom of the sky was his, and he leaped toward it on golden-brown wings.

  MADDIE FROWNED AND GLANCED AT HER WATCH. JON WAS nearly an hour late—though why she was surprised, she wasn’t entirely sure.

  She picked up her milkshake and idly pushed the straw back and forth across the caramel froth. She’d been an idiot yet again. She’d stared into Jon’s bright blue eyes and believed the truth she saw there.

  Only the apparent truth always hid deceit. She’d learned that lesson the hard way during the six long years of her marriage. What on earth made her think Jon would keep his promise when it was so obvious he didn’t want her around?

  A waitress brushed past her, bumping against her arm. As the woman apologized, Maddie glanced up and felt her heart almost jump into her mouth. Hank stood in the café’s entrance, looking around.

  Had he followed her, or was it just coincidence that led them to the same place? She had no way of knowing and no way of finding out, short of asking him. And something told her that wouldn’t be a wise move.

  He stepped forward and she ducked her head, praying he didn’t see her. After this morning, she wanted as little as possible to do with him. The man was spooky.

  His footsteps moved away from her. She sipped her milkshake and glanced furtively sideways, trying to see where he went.

  He stopped in front of a table on the far side of the small restaurant. She wished she could see whom he was meeting, but the width of his body blocked her view. It might be just a friend or a relation, but the way his shoulders were hunched and his head bowed told her this wasn’t so.

  She could remember standing that way herself over the years. He spoke to someone he loved and yet feared.

  Maddie frowned at the thought. Why did she keep thinking back to her marriage? The past was coming up too much lately; she was seeing reminders everywhere. Why couldn’t she just forget it and get on with her life?

  Because the past has shaped my present, and given me no life at all. She closed her eyes against the sudden insight. While the life she’d been leading might hold no excitement, it was safe. It was all she could ask for these days. And all she deserved.

  Hank looked like he was arguing with the person in the booth. He made a short, sharp gesture with his hand that spoke of denial, then he shifted slightly. For an instant, Maddie found herself staring into a woman’s eyes—eyes that were as dark as the sky at midnight.

  Relief surged through her. For some odd reason, she’d half expected the woman to have the same chilling green gaze as the cat.

  The woman rose, and Hank stepped back. Maddie was surprised to see that the woman was short. Somehow, Hank’s manner had made her expect someone much taller, someone with a more commanding presence. The woman walked toward the exit, and the provocative sway of her hips turned the head of every man in the café.

  Would it have turned Jon’s? Maddie smiled at the thought. He might be a loner emotionally, but she didn’t see him as a loner physically. The man was too comfortable around women.

  Hank followed the woman toward the door. Maddie ducked her head, hoping he would walk right on by.

  But the sound of his footsteps hesitated, then headed in her direction. She took a deep, calming breath and glanced up.

  Straight into Hank’s suspicious brown gaze.

  JON SHIFTED SHAPE AS HE NEARED THE GROUND, BUT HIS legs were trembling with exhaustion and wouldn’t hold his weight. He stumbled forward, then collapsed, landing on his hands and knees. He stayed there, gulping in great gasps of air as sweat dripped from his forehead and pooled in the dirt near his fingers.

  Maybe this was why he couldn’t remember much about last night. He’d blocked out the fact that it damn well hurt to shapeshift.

  It was a good ten minutes before he felt strong enough to move. He climbed slowly to his feet and wiped the sweat from his face. Despite the morning’s late hour, the small park was quiet. From beyond the line of trees came the steady sound of traffic—it had to be the freeway that bypassed most of Taurin Bay; the traffic was too steady to be anything else. His destination lay to the left—Taurin Bay’s quiet heart.

  He brushed the dirt from his hands and jeans, then walked through the cedars. Shops came into view, and outside one, a phone booth. It reminded him that he’d yet to call his boss. He dug several coins out of his pocket and crossed the road, heading toward it.

  The phone was answered on the second ring. “About time you checked in, cowboy.”

  The edge in her usually gentle voice told him she’d been worried. “Sorry, Seline. Someone in this town knew why I was here—they tried to get rid of me.”

  “I did warn you that they might,” she replied, almost crossly.

  So she had. He just hadn’t expected the attack to come within the first two hours of his arrival. “I need you to do some checking for me.”

  “What?”

  He heard the soft rustle of paper and could imagine her ferreting through the huge mound of documents on her desk, searching for a pencil to make notes—which she really didn’t need. Despite her age, Seline had an incredible memory.

  “The Hank Stewart we have on file is not the same man that’s currently working at the inn. Might be worth checking whether any unidentified bodies have been found in the area recently. You might also check to see if he’s purchased any other properties in the area.”

  “You think this Hank is responsible for the attack on you?”

  “Bit of a coincidence, otherwise. I never actually met him the day I checked in, so how he knew I was here for anything more than a v
acation is beyond me. But he’s not the brains behind the operation—I know that much.”

  “Old magic is the key, cowboy. And old magic has ways and means of finding out information.”

  “Gee, doesn’t that make everything so much clearer,” he said sarcastically.

  “If you’re not careful, boy, I’ll come down there and slap that smartness from your mouth.”

  He grinned. Seline was half his height and twig-slender, but she could be a fearsome old bird when she wanted. And he had no doubt that she’d do as she threatened.

  “Anything else?” she continued.

  “Shapeshifters. I need to know if there are any known to be in this area. I’ve seen one, at least, but I need to know her human identity.”

  “Will do.” She hesitated, then added, “You okay? I had this feeling you were in trouble.”

  “I was, but I found help.” Help he didn’t really want. He glanced at his watch. If he didn’t hurry, he’d be late for his meeting with her.

  “Well, be careful, cowboy. You could lose more than you bargained for on this one.”

  Alarms rang in his mind. He had an odd feeling Seline wasn’t talking about the job, but something more personal. “I’m always careful, Seline.”

  Her laugh was a high-sounding cackle. “I know. That’s what will make your fall all the more delicious. I’ll be in touch.”

  She hung up before he could question her further. He swore and slammed the receiver back into place. Sometimes the old witch’s tendency to speak in riddles was more than a little annoying.

  It took him ten minutes to walk up to where he’d left his truck, only to discover it had indeed been towed away. He wasted nearly another hour finding the police station, filling in forms, and paying the fine.

  He glanced at his watch as he climbed into the driver’s seat and swore again. He still had to buy a jacket and some other clothes, and it was already well past the time he had said he’d meet Maddie.