Face the Fire (36 page)

“Yes.” Pale now, Nell looked at Ripley. “We all would have.”

Ripley nodded. “If she thinks it’s the only way. But she wouldn’t.” Uneasy, she pushed herself off the counter. “She would pit her power against anyone or anything.”

“It’s not enough.” Sam fisted his hands as if he could clamp the fury and fear inside them. “Not close to enough. I’m not standing back while she considers dying to save a few square miles of dirt. We’re going to put a stop to this.”

“You know better.” As her nerves built, Ripley yanked off her cap. “You can’t stop what’s been in motion for centuries. I tried, and it ran right over me.”

“Your life’s not on the line, is it?”

If she’d seen only anger, she might have snapped back at him. But she saw fear as well. “What do you say we both take it out on Mia after this is done?”

“Deal.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze, then dropped his hands. “There’s no point in confronting her about this: We won’t budge her. Dragging her bodily off the island won’t change anything. The last step has to be taken, and it’s best that it be taken here. It’s meant to be taken here. With all of us.”

“Center of power,” Mac agreed. “Her center, her circle. Her power’s the most refined, and it’s the strongest. But that leads me to conclude that what’s going to come against her will build its power to match.”

“There are more of us now,” Nell pointed out. She reached out a hand for her husband’s, laid the other on her belly. “Linked, our energy is formidable.”

“There are other sources of power.” Sam nodded as the idea formed. “We use them. All of them.”

His mind was clear, his thoughts controlled
when he walked into the house on the cliff. Mia wasn’t the only one who could block.

He found her in the garden, calmly sipping a glass of wine while a butterfly fluttered in the palm of her outstretched hand.

“Now that’s a picture,” he said as he kissed the top of her head, then sat across from her. “How was your day?”

She said nothing for a moment, studied his face, sipped her wine. What was inside her yearned under the steel of her will. “Busy, productive. Yours?”

“The same. Some kid stuck his head through the iron pickets on one of the balconies. He took it pretty well, but his mother screamed the roof off and wanted us to cut through. As there was no way I was damaging a centuries-old rail, I was about to flick him free with a quick spell. The housekeeper beat me to it. Slathered his head with baby oil and popped him out like a cork.”

She smiled, and was obliging enough to hand him her wine for a sip. But her eyes were watchful, wary. “I imagine he enjoyed the entire thing. Sam, I noticed some of my books are missing from the library.”

“Mmm?” He held out a finger so the butterfly on her palm flew gracefully to him, perched. “You said I could use the library.”

“Where are the books?”

He passed the wine and the butterfly back to her. “I spent some time looking through some of them, thinking I might find some fresh angle on this whole business.”

“Oh.” A chill shivered around her heart. “And?”

“Never claimed to be a scholar,” he said with a shrug. “I mentioned it to Mac in passing, and he asked if he could borrow them. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I’d prefer that the books stay in the house.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll get them back. You know, sitting out here with you like this feels . . . perfect. And every time I look at you, my heart rolls over in my chest. That feels perfect, too. I love you, Mia.”

Her lashes lowered. “I should do something about dinner.”

When she rose, he took her hand. “I’ll help you.” He kept his fingers linked with hers as he got to his feet. “There’s no need for you to do all the work.”

Don’t touch me, she thought. Not yet. Not now. “I’m better . . . in the kitchen, by myself.”

“Make room,” he suggested. “I’m not going anywhere.”

H
e had something on his mind, Mia was sure of
it. He was too damn pleasant, attentive, considerate. If she hadn’t known better, she might have wondered if someone had put a good-nature spell on him.

As ridiculous as it was, even to herself, she preferred him with his edge on. At least then she knew what to expect.

Still she didn’t have the time to dig below the surface, couldn’t risk him digging below hers. And had she the time, she couldn’t spare the energy. She was stockpiling power like blue-chip stocks.

She was resolved, she was prepared, and she was as confident as she could manage. When nerves trickled in, she used them. When doubts crept close, she swept them aside.

On the day of the full moon, she rose at dawn. She’d wanted, almost painfully wanted, to roll over into Sam, and his warmth. Just to have his arms come around her as they sometimes did in sleep. They’d done nothing but sleep together, in the most innocent sense, since the night in the cottage.

He hadn’t questioned her on this, nor had he tried to
seduce her. The fact that she found his cooperation mildly insulting only caused her to become annoyed with herself.

It had been she who, more than once, had nearly turned to him in the night, when her mind was soft with dreams and her body aching with needs.

But on this most vital of mornings, she left him sleeping and stood on her cliffs. Here she gathered fire from the rising sun, and strength from the crashing sea.

Arms spread, she drank power, and gave thanks for the gift.

When she turned, she saw him on the bedroom balcony, watching her. Their gazes locked, and held. Light sparked between them. With her hair blowing in the wind, she walked back to the house, and ignored the black-edged fog crawling along the edges of her world.

She went to the bookstore for her own peace of
mind. It was something she’d built through sweat and dreams. Despite her broken arm, Lulu was back to manning the counter. Since there’d been no stopping her, Mia hadn’t bother to argue.

And she had to admit, the work—and the visits from neighbors and friends—seemed to keep Lulu in good spirits.

Still, Mia had hoped she would ease back to work rather than leaping.

Because business was unusually brisk, she didn’t have the opportunity she’d wanted to spend time with Lulu—to fuss over her without seeming to fuss. But it seemed that every second person who lived on the island found a reason to stop in and spend time with her.

By noon the café was jammed, and she couldn’t pass by without someone calling her over for a word.

To escape long enough to catch her breath, Mia slipped
into the kitchen, snagged a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

“Hester Birmingham just told me Ben and Jerry’s ice cream is on special this week.”

“Two of my favorite men,” Nell responded as she built a grilled chicken and Brie sandwich to go with the soup special.

“She was pretty damn intense about it. I thought she’d burst into tears any minute.”

“Some of us take our ice cream seriously. Why don’t I get some? We can make sundaes tonight . . . after.”

“Fine. I’m glad you’re not worried about tonight.” Mia walked over to give Nell’s back a quick rub. “You have everything you need. Tomorrow, it’ll be over. No shadows.”

“I believe that. But you have to let me worry about you a little.”

“Little sister.” Mia rested her cheek on Nell’s hair, just for a moment. “I love you. Now I’m going to get out of here. I still have things I need to do, and all I’m getting accomplished here today is socializing. I’ll see you tonight.”

As she hurried out, Nell closed her eyes. And prayed.

It wasn’t, Mia discovered, a simple matter to leave. By the time she managed to get to her office, retrieve the papers she’d locked there, and make her way downstairs, an hour had been eaten up.

“Lulu. Two minutes,” she said, gesturing to the back room.

“I’m busy here.”

“Two minutes,” Mia repeated and went inside.

“I don’t have time to lollygag, and I don’t need another break.” With her face scrunched in disapproval, Lulu clomped into the room. Her cast was covered with colorful signatures, and a few lewd illustrations. “I’ve got customers.”

“So I see. I’m sorry, I need to go home.”

“It’s the middle of the damn day. Might remind you, I’m down to one arm instead of my usual six.”

“I’m sorry.” A well of emotion rose in her throat, thickened her voice before she could swallow it again. This was the woman who’d been mother, father, friend. The only constant in her life other than her own gift. And more precious than magic.

“You sick or something?” Lulu demanded.

“No. No, I’m fine. We can close the store for the rest of the day. I don’t want you to overdo.”

“I’ll be damned if we’re closing. If you want to play hooky, go ahead. I’m not a damned invalid, and I know how to run the shop.”

“I know. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Damn right you will. I’ll take an afternoon off next week, and you can stay in the trenches.”

“That’s a deal. Thanks.” Careful of the broken arm, Mia hugged her, then unable to help herself, pressed her face into Lulu’s hair. “Thank you.”

“If I’d known you’d get so worked up about it, I’d have taken two afternoons off. Go on if you’re going.”

“I love you, Lu. I’m going.”

She hitched her satchel on her shoulder and, rushing out, didn’t see the tears swim into Lulu’s eyes or hear her sniff them back.

And when she was sure Mia wouldn’t hear, she whispered, “Blessed be, baby girl.”

“Everything in order, Mrs. Farley?”

“It is.”

Sam nodded. “I appreciate your help. I’m going to have to leave matters in your capable hands.”

“Sir . . . Sam,” she amended. “You were an interesting boy, and a good one, all in all. You’re a better man.”

“I—” Words failed him. “Thank you. I have to get home.”

“Have a good evening.”

“It’s going to be one for the books,” he predicted as he walked out of his office.

There were things he needed at the cottage. Tools of his own that he hadn’t taken to Mia’s. He packed them—his oldest athame and ritual sword, the old jar where he kept his sea salt. He changed into a dark shirt and jeans, deciding to take the black robe with him rather than driving in it. He wrapped a favored wand in silk.

All of this he placed in a carved wooden box that had been in his family for generations.

Rather than an amulet or pendant, he wore the two silver rings on a chain.

Before he walked to his car, he stopped to look back at the house, and the woods that ran beside it. His protection would hold. He refused to believe otherwise.

He could feel the simmer of his own power as he crossed the edge of his charm and stepped clear of it into the street.

The force struck him, a full body blow that lifted him off his feet, sent him flying back. His body slammed into the ground, and a thousand black stars spun inside his head.

“It’ll take you an hour to set up all this
equipment,” Ripley complained as Mac loaded the last of it into the back of his Land Rover.

“No, it won’t.”

“You always say that.”

“I probably won’t need it all, but I’m not taking any chances. This promises to be one of the biggest paranormal events in recorded history. There.” He slammed the cargo door. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready. Let’s get—”

He watched, stupefied, as her eyes rolled back in her head and her hands clawed at her own throat while she choked for breath.

Nell waited while Zack put the bag holding her tools
in the car. “This is going to work,” she told him. “Mia’s been working toward this all her life.”

“Doesn’t hurt to have backup.”

“No, and Sam’s idea wasn’t just brilliant, it speaks to the purpose of the island as well.”

He hefted the cooler holding the ice cream and the makings for sundaes. “I believe that. But it gives me some trouble knowing Remington’s gone catatonic. My contact said it was like pulling a switch. He just went blank.”

“He’s being used. I can feel sorry for him, opening himself to what will, without question, destroy him.”

“What’s in him wants you, Nell.”

“No.” She touched Zack’s arm. The man who’d once been her husband, and her terror, held no more fear for her. “What’s in him now wants everything, and Mia most of all.”

She started to turn to the car door, then with a shocked cry, doubled over.

“What is it? Nell?”

“Cramps. God, the baby!”

“Hold on. Just hold on.” He swept her into his arms, fighting against panic as he saw the pain on her face. “I’ll get you to the doctor. It’s going to be okay.”

“No, no, no.” Pressing her face into his shoulder, she struggled against both pain and terror. “Wait. Just wait.”

“Not for a second.” He yanked open the door, would have set her inside, but she clung like a burr.

“It’s not real. It’s not real. Mia said the baby would be safe. She was sure of it. This is
not
real.” She dug down, found the power beneath the fear. “It’s an illusion, to keep us away. To keep us from making the circle.” She let out a long, shaky breath, and when she looked at Zack again, her skin glowed.

“It’s a lie,” she said. “We have to get to Mia.”