Charmed

by Catherine Hart

  He checked their bindings once more, assuring himself that they were tight, taking an extra moment to savor the fear mirrored in their eyes. Then he rose and started down the hall toward the staircase. “I can smell your fear from here,” he called back to them. “I would stay to enjoy it further or perhaps to avail myself of your white flesh, but I have bigger fish to fry.” He laughed at his own joke.

  “Did I say that I am preparing other fires as well, all through this place?” He paused for a dramatic sigh. “Ah, so many rooms, so many corners Silver Thorn must search for you—if he lives to do so. Surely, the smoke will suffocate you long before anyone discovers your charred bones.”

  Left alone, the two women stared at each other through terror-glazed eyes. Nikki tested her bonds, tugging at them frantically, but they wouldn’t budge. Nor would Sheree’s when she tried. They were sitting a few feet from each other, huddled beneath the desk of the nurses’ station in the narrow knee space where the desk chairs no doubt sat at one time. Their hands were bound behind them, tied to metal support posts, with their ankles lashed together in front of them.

  After several minutes of futile struggling, the women collapsed against the posts, knowing it was useless. Though they could not see the candles from this position, they could see the reflection of the tiny, flickering flames on the opposite wall. They stared at the wall, the fluttering light, and each other with bleak, despairing expressions. Their helpless tears said all that they could not voice.

  Gaze and Silver Thorn had searched high and low and could find no sign of their brother. They finally managed to track down Brian Sanders at his apartment complex.

  The reporter, who had been so eager to communicate his views before, was now most unwilling to speak with them.

  “Look, Silver, I’m staying away from Nikki, just as you want me to. You’ve got no beef with me on that score.”

  “Perhaps not, but there is another matter that I would discuss with you. This man, this Indian, with whom you have been seen.”

  Brian smirked. “Oh, you mean old Tenska-whoever. Yeah. He sure gave me an earful.”

  “I’d take whatever he told you with a grain of salt,” Gaze put in. “The man is a drunkard. His word is worthless.”

  “That’s not the way I see it,” Brian debated smugly. “I’m of half a mind to believe his wild tale. And if I can gather enough proof to convince enough other people, this could be Pulitzer material.”

  “Try using the other half of your brain,” Thorn suggested somberly. “The part which hopefully still functions normally. This man is dangerous. We must find him immediately, and we need you to help us. He has attempted to harm Neeake more than once. Would you put the life of the woman you claim to love at risk for an uncertain chance at fame?”

  “In a heartbeat,” Brian stated flatly.

  Gaze fixed him with a hard glare. “Then you don’t love her, Mr. Sanders. Let me put it to you another way, one that might sink through those Pulitzer plums dancing in your head. If this demented Indian harms Neeake and you could have led us to him in time to prevent it, you could be brought up on criminal charges. Aiding and abetting. Withholding information. Harboring. Any number of other charges that carry a hefty prison term. Now, I ask you, do you have any idea where we might find him?”

  Brian hesitated. “Is he really that dangerous?”

  “He would kill her,” Thorn announced curtly. “If you know where he is, if you care at all for Neeake, you must tell us all you know. All that he told you and that you told him.”

  Brian looked sick. “I . . . I . . . Oh, God! I showed him where you live. I drove him right past your house last night!”

  “Did you also take him to the farm?” Thorn pressed.

  “No, just Nikki’s house.”

  Thorn could breathe again. “Do you know where he’s staying?”

  Brian shook his head. “Not exactly, but he did laugh when I showed him the house. He said something about spotting the perfect place nearby. He didn’t say what kind of place or what he was doing there.”

  “Thank you, Sanders. I shall put this information to good use.” Thorn turned away, eager to be on his way.

  Gaze grabbed his arm, halting him. “Wait. There is one more thing left to do here.”

  She returned her attention to Brian. Her voice, when she spoke next, was soft and compelling. “Look at me, Brian Sanders. Look deeply into my eyes, and tell me what you see there.”

  Brian complied. “I see your eyes, of course. And my own reflection in them.”

  “Look closer,” she urged quietly in a soothing, singsong tone. “See yourself as I do. Describe what you see.”

  “My face,” he replied slowly. “I need a shave. My front teeth are crooked. I never got braces.” Each word emerged more slowly than the last, as if it were an extreme effort to coordinate his brain and speech.

  “Your eyes are very tired,” Gaze informed him in a murmur. “You can barely hold them open. You want to close them. You need to close them. Now.”

  Brian’s lids fluttered, then closed. He swayed dizzily, then leaned back against the door frame.

  “Brian, lift your right arm and hold it out before you,” Gaze instructed. His arm rose slowly from his side.

  “Good. Now, listen very carefully. You did not meet the Prophet yesterday. Nor did you drive him past Neeake’s house. You’ve never met Tenskwatawa, Brian. Therefore, you will forget anything he told you. As far as you will recall, you went home alone last night. Straight home and to bed. Anything you wrote for your news column concerning the Prophet will seem nothing more to you than an idea you had for a future book. When next you read your notes, you will consider them pure drivel. You will destroy them and anything having to do with them that you may have entered on your computer or elsewhere. You did not speak to me or to Thorn today. Our conversation will be erased from your mind. Do you understand all that I have told you?”

  “Yes,” he intoned.

  “Repeat to me what you know to be true,” Gaze said. As he did so, Thorn whispered into Gaze’s ear. She nodded and grinned. “One more thing, Brian,” she advised when he had repeated her former instructions. “You no longer have any interest in Neeake, except as a casual acquaintance. Nor do you wish to investigate Thorn’s past. It is of no concern to you whatever.”

  “Not my concern,” he agreed drowsily.

  “Now, in a few minutes you will awaken. You will not recall this conversation, but you will abide by all that I have told you. You will enter your apartment, attend to any business I have indicated, and go directly to bed and sleep soundly until morning. You may put your arm down now.” Gaze motioned to Thorn that they should leave. They were out of the parking area and several blocks away before Brian awoke.

  By mutual agreement, they drove back to Nikki’s house. As they pulled up, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Sheree’s car was gone. She and Nikki had most probably arrived at the farm hours ago. Still, Thorn felt uneasy; and Gaze’s intuition was sounding an alarm in her head. Something was dreadfully wrong, and they both felt it.

  “Can you work the telephone for me?” Thorn asked. “I wish to call Neeake’s parents and make sure she and Sheree arrived safely.”

  “Yes, and while you’re confirming that, I’ll take a closer look around the property. Something doesn’t feel right.”

  Gaze dialed the number and left Thorn to speak with Nikki while she toured the house. Again, Macate was nearly wild. Gaze found nothing inside and decided to go outside to inspect the garage. As soon as she opened the back patio door, Macate was out like a shot.

  Gaze entered the garage and knew instantly that Tenskwatawa had been there. She would have known it even if she hadn’t found the lance with his feathers bound to it—and the note dangling from it. The Prophet had inscribed signs on a piece of paper, a message as clear as any written language.

  Gaze raced for the house, note in hand. She met Thorn coming toward her.

  “Neeake and Sheree are
not there,” Thorn exclaimed. “They never reached the farm.”

  “I know.” Gaze handed him the message. “Tenskwatawa has them both. He is holding them in an empty building nearby. He doesn’t say where this building is, but he must know we are bound to find it soon. He’ll be lying in wait for us, Silver Thorn. Make no mistake. He means to kill you, and most likely me, too, if he has any idea who I am.”

  Thorn contemplated this. “Perhaps he knows nothing about you. Perhaps that will be our best advantage.”

  Gaze’s eyes lit up. “Yes,” she agreed. “He may not expect the two of us, but only you. We must find this place and scout it out. Maybe you can gain his attention while I enter from another direction and take our brother by surprise.”

  “First we must find where he is holding them,” Thorn said. As if on cue, Macate let out a loud yowl. Thorn’s smile was tinged with satisfaction. “Macate knows. He will lead us to this place.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The candle on the counter was sputtering. Nikki prayed that it had one of those little metal discs on the bottom and that it would be enough to keep the open flame from direct contact with the parched wood. Otherwise, it would go up like tinder and she and Sheree would burn with it—as surely as if Tenskwatawa had bound them to the stake.

  One candle gutted out. The other was fluttering feebly, giving off almost no light now. Nikki smelled something. She hoped it was only the extinguished candle and not the counter starting to smolder. She couldn’t tell. And she sure couldn’t ask Sheree. She could scarcely see her friend. In the encroaching gloom, Sheree was just a dark blur several feet away.

  Something furry brushed Nikki’s lower arm, and she jerked in surprise. Her scream echoed only in her head, thoroughly muted by the cloth Tenskwatawa had shoved into her mouth. She felt the furry thing again and would have screamed anew, but then she heard it. She squinted and thought she saw something move on the floor next to her. It chattered, and Nikki could have bawled with relief. It was Aneekwah, her squirrel spirit guide.

  Then the little animal did something truly amazing. It leapt into her lap, balanced itself on her tummy, carefully took hold of the end of the rag protruding from Nikki’s mouth, and tugged it free. Nikki sucked in a welcome breath.

  “Sheree?” she whispered, not wanting to alert the Prophet if he were lurking nearby. “Sheree, Aneekwah is here. She just pulled my gag off. I’m going to see if I can get her to loosen the ropes with her teeth, if that’s possible. If I can get loose, I’ll untie you and maybe we can escape.”

  Nikki thought she saw Sheree nod. At any rate, the squirrel must have understood what was expected of her, for she scampered around to Nikki’s backside and promptly began gnawing at the rope. A short while later, Nikki’s bonds were loose enough that she could pull her hands free. She took a minute to massage the blood back into her numb fingers and quickly went to work untying her feet.

  Aneekwah helped, then raced over to Sheree before Nikki had restored enough circulation to move. Nikki crawled to her friend and eased the cloth from between Sheree’s dry lips. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be better when we’re out of here,” Sheree croaked. Nikki worked at the ropes binding Sheree’s ankles while Aneekwah tended to those at her wrists. Within minutes they were both free.

  Sheree rubbed her wrists. “Check the candles.”

  Nikki eased upward, peering over the top of the counter, afraid she’d find Tenskwatawa leering at her from the other side. He was nowhere in sight. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t just around the corner in any of more than a dozen rooms. Nikki checked the candles and felt the wood at their bases. It was slightly warm, but not alarmingly so. Hopefully, if their captor had lit others, they had done as little damage.

  As she was looking at it, the second candle sputtered out, leaving them in total darkness. “Crap!” she hissed softly.

  “Ditto,” Sheree muttered. “How are we supposed to find our way out now? And what, God forbid, if the Prophet comes to check on the candles . . . and us?”

  “I’ll crawl out of here on my hands and knees if I have to,” Nikki declared softly. The squirrel brushed her ankle, and she barely restrained a shriek. “I think Aneekwah is trying to say that she can lead us out.”

  “Super. You grab her tail, and I’ll grab yours—your shirt tail, that is—and let’s vamoose!”

  It was slow going, but they persisted, inching along on hands and knees along the wall facing the nurses’ station. Every few feet, they encountered a doorway, and beyond that more wall. On and on it went, until Nikki swore the hallway went on forever. At least they were headed in the opposite direction from the way Tenskwatawa had led them in, or Nikki assumed they were. Her sense of direction wasn’t the best in this inky darkness.

  “So where are all those candles Tenskwatawa promised to light?” she grumbled softly. “We could sure use one right about now.”

  Behind her, Sheree grunted her assent.

  Finally, Aneekwah bore to the left. Nikki and Sheree followed suit. Another few feet, and Nikki rasped a hushed shout. “I see a window ahead, Sheree. Stand up.”

  They fumbled forward and found themselves at the end of the shorter hallway, facing a window with its pane missing. Nikki thought she’d never seen such a welcome sight. Until she leaned down for a look out the window. She withdrew with a frustrated moan.

  “What?” Sheree demanded.

  “Have a look,” Nikki said, gesturing her forward. “We’re three flights up, with nothing between us and the ground but a rickety, rusty fire escape. I’m sure Aneekwah meant well, but she weighs a lot less than we do and I’m not sure that old thing will bear our weight. It doesn’t look too secure; and even if it would hold us, it’s bound to make a racket. I’d hate to get all the way to the bottom, if this metal contraption even goes clear to the bottom, only to find Tenskwatawa waiting to escort us back inside.”

  “I’m willing to take that chance,” Sheree insisted. “Even if I fall and kill myself, it’s a dam sight better than burning to death. If you want, I’ll go first. Test the waters, so to speak.”

  “Okay. Just be careful.”

  “Care to tell me how to manage that?” Sheree scoffed.

  Several seconds later, Sheree was standing outside the window on the top step of the fire escape. “Wish me luck,” she whispered nervously. “I’ll yell up at you when I reach bottom. If I do a swan dive off this thing, I’ll just yell.”

  Nikki reached out and clutched at her sleeve. “Sheree? Have I ever told you how much I love you? How much I treasure your friendship?”

  Sheree sniffed. “Don’t go getting maudlin on me now, dearie. But I should tell you, you’re in my will. You get my leather jacket and my goldfish.”

  With that, she was gone, creeping precariously down the creaking, swaying stairs. Though the night was cloudy, the sky was still considerably brighter than the inside of the building. Even so, Nikki lost sight of Sheree somewhere near the first-floor level. She literally held her breath, listening as hard as she could.

  There was a muffled thud, followed by an even more muffled groan. Then . . . “Come on! I made it! Except for that last step. It’s a doozy. About six feet off the ground.”

  Nikki climbed out cautiously, clinging to the windowsill all the while. “Here I come, ready or not,” she hissed. She crept down the fire escape, one slow step at a time, praying for all she was worth.

  It seemed an eon before Sheree called out softly, “Hold it. That’s the last step. Unless you want to jump for it, which I wouldn’t recommend, I’d say you should try to maneuver yourself around so you can hang from the bottom step by your hands. That way, your feet should reach the ground.”

  Sheree’s advice was more easily given than applied. With nothing supporting her feet, Nikki felt as if her arms were about to be torn from their sockets. But, as Sheree had pointed out, anything was better than burning alive. At last, feeling like an aging acrobat, with Sheree trying to steady her from belo
w, Nikki felt her feet touch solid ground.

  She heaved a hearty sigh and hugged her friend. As fast as their tingling, quivering limbs would carry them, they loped around the corner of the building and barreled straight into someone else coming from the opposite direction.

  As she fell, Nikki felt her ankle twist. She knew she stood little chance of escaping again. “Run, Sheree!” she gasped.

  “Neeake? Sheree?”

  “Gaze?”

  “Thank God!” Nikki whimpered. “I thought for sure you were Tenskwatawa! Where’s Thorn? How did you find us?”

  “Macate led us here. Thorn is entering another way. I am to take the rear entrance and try to sneak up on Tenskwatawa from behind. How did you get out?”

  “Down the fire escape on the other side.”

  “You stay here,” Gaze ordered. “Better yet, hide in that clump of trees. We’ll come for you when it’s safe. If we don’t come within half an hour or if you hear shots or something equally dire, head for your home.” She pointed them in the right direction. “Lock yourselves in and phone the police.”

  Gaze disappeared around the corner, and Nikki limped toward the trees. Halfway there, she stopped and turned to Sheree. “I can’t do this. I’ll die of fright, not knowing what’s going on. You go ahead and hide.”

  “Not on a bet,” Sheree grumbled. “We’re in this together, pal. Besides, I’d sort of like to be on hand to see the old Prophet get what’s coming to him.”

  They stole back the way they had come. When they reached the fire escape, it was still wobbling, but Gaze was already inside. They continued slowly onward toward the other side, Nikki favoring her ankle with every step.

  As they neared the corner, Nikki spotted the parking garage. This is the way we came in,” she hissed.

  Sheree nodded. “I’m scared spitless!”

  “Me, too!”