Circle of Fire (30 page)

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.

T
HE FLAMES BURNED HIGH BUT WITHOUT ANY HEAT
. G
RAYISH-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.”

“Was Hank like you?”

“Hank lived through me. I was
his
life, his bloodline. Of course, even I couldn’t protect the fool from a wound inflicted by silver. He really should have known better than to carry such a weapon.”

Movement flickered in the darkness behind Eleanor. Maddie fought the sudden rush of excitement and terror. Teresa had found the courage to move out of the cell, but all Eleanor had to do was turn slightly and she’d see the teenager as plain as day. “Surely a sorcerer can find a better way to sustain her looks than killing innocent children.”

Teresa was easing around the edge of the cavern entrance, a ragged white shape framed by the cold fire’s flickering light.

“There is nothing as powerful as blood magic, and only blood magic can sustain me now.” Eleanor raised an eyebrow and studied Maddie critically. “How old do you think I am?”

The crone had looked at least a hundred years old, but something in Eleanor’s tone suggested the number was higher. Much higher. “I really have no idea.”

Teresa crept past the entrance of the cavern and disappeared into the trees. Maddie didn’t relax. Couldn’t afford to when the woman standing opposite her could take the shape of a panther and easily catch the fleeing teenager.

“My dear, I am five hundred and twenty-two years old. Hold it well, don’t I?”

Maddie blinked. Five hundred and twenty-two years old? No wonder the woman was mad—she’d watched the entire world change around her while she remained the same.

“What about Hank? How old was he?”

“He was younger by several hundred years. It took me a while to find a man who was both trainable and, shall we say, as bloodthirsty as me.”

The sound of a branch snapping whipped across the clearing, as sharp as a gunshot. Eleanor spun around and stared into the trees.

Maddie waited tensely, listening to the silence and hoping Teresa had the good sense not to move. After several long heartbeats, Eleanor turned back.

“As much as I have enjoyed our little chat, it’s time to move. Our guests are approaching.”

Something in Eleanor’s dark gaze made Maddie retreat a step. Eleanor smiled and waved her left hand casually. Ice snapped across Maddie’s skin and held her tight. She couldn’t move, could only watch as Eleanor made another motion with her hand and encased her in a wide circle of fire.

“Now, for my masterpiece.” The flames parted as Eleanor walked through them, like slaves bowing before their master. “But I’m afraid you won’t be around to see it.”

The witch waved a hand. Maddie’s silent scream was lost as the darkness encased her mind.

“D
ON
’
T MOVE
,” J
ON WARNED SOFTLY
.

He knelt down and studied the trail ahead. Something didn’t feel right.

He picked up the rock near his feet and lobbed it ten feet ahead. There was a slight tremor in the bushes to his left, and a swoosh of air as an arrow imbedded itself in the tree trunk to their right. He watched it quiver lightly in the mottled light of the forest. White ash, just like the one that had landed him in the well. And, in an odd sort of way, sent him Maddie.

“Set off by motion, and placed to injure, not kill,” Mack commented softly.

Jon nodded and picked up another rock, lobbing it farther ahead. Another arrow thudded into a tree. “Just in case the first one missed.” A third rock had no effect.

He glanced back down the trail and frowned. A whisper of movement told him they were being followed. Mack’s men, probably. It certainly didn’t feel like Eleanor. Besides, the witch wouldn’t make any noise.

He turned his attention back to the trail ahead. He couldn’t
feel
any more traps. “Looks safe to move on.”

He rose and led the way forward. No more arrows thudded out of trees to greet them—in fact, the trail seemed entirely
too
easy. He’d expected Eleanor to play with him a bit more, yet he was over halfway up the mountain and so far had only a few poorly placed arrows to contend with.

Worry snaked through his gut. Something was wrong.

Ahead, a branch snapped—a sharp sound that seemed to echo through the unnatural silence of the forest. He stopped quickly, listening. For several seconds there was no further sound, then he heard a soft, fearful sob. Even as hope rose, he squashed it. The sob didn’t belong to Maddie—it was much too young-sounding. Eleanor would have no doubt ensured the mountain was empty of human habitation—she certainly couldn’t afford to have strangers wandering into the middle of her blood sacrifice. Which meant the person he could hear just might be the kidnapped girl. From the sound of it, she was heading down the trail toward them.

“Trouble?” Mack asked quietly, his hand hovering near his gun.

“Someone’s running toward us—someone who’s frightened and unsteady on their feet. It just might be our missing kid.”

Mack raised his eyebrow. “You can tell all this standing here?”

Jon gave him a grim smile. “I can. And so can Eleanor, if she’s as close as we are. Let’s move.”

They scrambled up the trail, ducking low-hanging branches and trying to make as little noise as possible. Jon leaped over a slime-encrusted rock, but his footing slipped coming down, and he landed awkwardly. A needle-hot lance of pain ran up his leg. He swore to himself and limped on for several more steps, then stopped and grabbed at his leg.

Mack did a quick sidestep to avoid running into him. “Problem?”

“Tore my damn leg open again.” Blood was beginning to seep through his jeans and past his fingers. It was a smell that would attract a hunter like Eleanor if she were anywhere nearby.

Mack took a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it out. “Here, use this.”

Jon accepted it with a grunt of thanks and quickly tied it around the wound, tightening it as much as he dared. A soft gasp made him glance up. Not ten feet away stood a thin, pale girl. He might have thought her little more than a wraith except for the heaving of her chest, the sharp tang of fear in the turbulent swirl of her emotions.

Mack’s sudden stillness suggested the FBI agent had also spotted her.

Jon didn’t dare move. If either of them did, he sensed she’d run. “Teresa?”

The girl nodded once, dark eyes wide as her gaze flitted between the two of them. “Is one of you Jon?”

“I am.” He straightened carefully, the knot in his stomach suddenly more painful than his leg. Given that she knew his name, the teenager had to have been talking to Maddie. Which meant Maddie had somehow helped her escape, but at what cost to herself? “This is Mack, from the FBI.”

“You have to get me out of here. She’s up there, she’ll come after me …” Teresa glanced quickly up the trail, then took a few stumbling steps toward them. “Please, we have to get out of here.”

Her dark eyes were frantic and glassy.
Running on sheer terror
, he thought, and shared a grim look with Mack. “You take her down. I’ll continue on.”

“You can’t take on Eleanor alone and expect to win.”

“I know.” He raked a hand through his hair and glanced up the trail. Maddie was up there, somewhere. And he sensed her time was running out. “I know your men aren’t far behind us. Take the girl to them, then come back up. But remember, Eleanor is a shapeshifter. Don’t trust any animal you see in this forest.”

Mack raised an eyebrow. “Not even a hawk?”

“Especially a hawk,” Jon said grimly. “I won’t be shapeshifting to fight Eleanor, so it won’t be me you see.”

Mack nodded, then squatted, making himself a less formidable sight to the frightened teenager. “Let’s get you down the mountain and see what we can do to find your mom and dad.”

Tears misted the teenager’s eyes. She edged forward, timidly taking Mack’s hand when he held it out.

“Please, we have to hurry,” she whispered, casting another fearful look up the mountain.

“Don’t you worry about that old witch. Jon will take care of her.” Mack’s gaze met Jon’s for a moment, and Jon smiled grimly. It wasn’t hard to guess at the unspoken words in Mack’s mind.
I hope
.

Mack and the girl headed back down the mountain. Jon gave the blood-soaked handkerchief a tug, testing its tightness, then glanced up the trail. Teresa hadn’t looked strong enough to make it too far on her own, so Eleanor and Maddie couldn’t be far away. He just had to hope his leg would hold out until he got there.