by Keri Arthur
Hank merely smiled. “I hold your queen, shapeshifter, so don’t you dare threaten me.”
“That wasn’t a threat, my friend,” he said softly, then leaped skyward on gold-brown wings.
MADDIE WATCHED THE HAWK UNTIL IT DISAPPEARED FROM sight. Maybe because of all the old werewolf movies she’d watched over the years, she’d half expected his shapeshifting to be an event of both power and pain. It was powerful, yes, but also very beautiful.
“First time you’ve seen him change, huh?” Hank whispered into her ear. “Exciting, isn’t it?”
She was all too aware of the exact state of Hank’s excitement—and of the growing tremble in the hand that held the knife so close to her throat. The fires flared brighter within her soul. She bit her lip, desperate to keep them under control.
Don’t do anything foolish, Jon had warned her. “Don’t lose control” was what he’d meant.
“Why don’t we move on inside?” Hank continued. “I have a pain that needs to be eased. Maybe you can help me.”
A chill ran through her. If Hank tried to touch her, she’d surely lose control and kill not only him, but possibly the teenagers if they were inside the cabin. She was too close to it, and her flames, once unleashed, were too fierce.
He nudged her forward. The knife was a thin line of heat against her neck. If she so much as stumbled, she would die.
And despite everything, she knew that she really didn’t want to die. There was so much of life she had yet to experience.
Like love.
She clenched her fists and felt Jon’s ring bite into her palm. He’d given her something of his to hold on to, something he seemed to value more than life. Something he’d come back for. All she had to do was hang on and wait.
After all, Hank couldn’t do much to her that her husband hadn’t already done.
She edged up the steps, hissing slightly when the knife bit into her neck. Blood trickled down her throat. Hank chuckled, his breath hot and unsteady near her ear.
They reached the door. Hank kicked it open. A bell chimed harshly above them, jarring against her already taut nerves. He pushed her through, then quickly drew her back against him while he closed the door. The knife nicked into her throat again. She bit her lip and fought the sting of tears. The last thing she wanted was to give Hank the satisfaction of seeing her cry. He was probably the type who’d enjoy it—just as Brian had.
But at least Brian was dead, and no longer able to hurt her.
Shoving the thought from her mind, she squinted, hoping to see Evan and the other teenager in the fire-lit darkness.
Two long bundles of blankets lay in the far corner of the room. She hoped it was the two teens—and that they were still alive.
Hank moved the knife away from her neck, but she didn’t relax. He still held the knife close enough to use it should she move the wrong way.
“Why don’t you go sit down while I tend to the fire.” He gave her a hard shove in the direction of the sofa. “It’s gotten a might cool in here.”
She stumbled forward, then caught sight of the window near the back of the cabin. If he turned away long enough … She edged sideways.
“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart.”
She froze. Hank’s dark gaze gleamed viciously as he grabbed her arm and forced her down onto the sofa.
“You know, up until today I wasn’t entirely sure if you were involved with the shapeshifter.” He sat down beside her. “And I still don’t entirely understand why you are.”
She watched his fingers lightly tap the cushions that separated them. If that hand moved any closer to her thigh, she was running, knife or no knife. “As you said yourself, he’s a charmer.”
His smile gleamed briefly. “We both know he’s not your type, sweetheart.”
“He’s not Eleanor’s type either, but she didn’t seem to mind.”
Anger darkened his eyes, and Maddie bit her lip. She sure could pick the perfect moment to start answering back.
“No, she doesn’t,” he growled softly. He grabbed her wrist, squeezing it tight. “Well, what’s good enough for the goose is good enough for the gander.”
He yanked her toward him and she thrust her hand into his face, desperate to keep his lips from hers. Fire leaped up through her body, running heat through her veins. The sheer force of it frightened the hell out of her. Killing Hank wouldn’t be so bad, but there were the teenagers to think about. She might be able to get one out, but there was no way known she could get them both out before her fire burned the cabin to the ground.
And if he didn’t stop soon, the choice might be taken from her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Hank?”
Eleanor’s voice sliced through the room. Hank flung Maddie away and scrambled to his feet. She edged as far away from him as was practical on the sofa.
“Just having a little fun.” Though his tone was defiant, there was no escaping the hint of fear in his stance. Just as Jon had guessed, Eleanor was the power behind everything.
Maddie studied her. Eleanor stood in the doorway, a shadow outlined by sunlight. You didn’t need to see her face or her eyes to taste the evil in her soul. It wrapped around her as closely as the coat she wore. Maddie licked her lips and hoped that Eleanor, like Hank, saw her as a form of insurance against Jon. Otherwise, Eleanor would have no qualms about killing her. She was certain of that much, if nothing else.
The heat in the room leaped several notches. She clenched her fists and felt the cool silver of Jon’s ring bite into her skin. Its touch seemed to calm the fires somehow. Not much, but enough.
Eleanor stepped into the room and slammed the door shut. The look she gave Maddie was that of a cat about to devour a mouse. Appropriate, she thought with a shiver, considering Eleanor’s other shape.
“What is she doing here?” Eleanor all but snarled.
“The shapeshifter was sniffing around here. I used her to ensure he left.”
Eleanor shrugged eloquently, her gaze running past them. “So why keep her? Get rid of her.”
Maddie edged forward, getting ready to fight. Even if it meant letting the fires loose and killing them all.
Then Hank’s gaze met hers and she stilled. Something in his eyes warned her not to move. Her gaze dropped to the knife he still held in one hand. Her blood was a small dark stain across its blade. It could so easily be more, his eyes seemed to warn, if you try anything.
“She’s insurance against his return, Lennie,” he said. “Through her, we can control him. At least until the ceremony.”
Maddie stared at him. Lennie. That was what he’d called the cat at the inn. Did Eleanor have more than one shape?
“He can’t touch us, anyway. He’s nothing but a weak fool—” Eleanor hesitated, then stiffened. “Where the hell is the second kid?”
Hank jerked around, staring at the bundles in the corner. “What do you mean?”
Eleanor strode across the room and flipped the blankets away, revealing only one form—a girl, not a boy. Jon must have gotten Evan out of the cabin somehow. But the relief Maddie felt was tempered by the knowledge that while Evan might be free, the other teenager was not.
“Where’s the other kid, Hank? What in hell have you done?”
Hank swung his fist, connecting with Maddie’s chin before she had time to react. The force of the punch threw her backward, over the arm of the sofa and onto the floor. Her head smacked against something hard, and a kaleidoscope of color rushed past her eyes.
Hank leaped forward and grabbed her coat. He drew her upward, so she was close to his face. “Tell me what you’ve done with the kid!”
He looks old, she thought weakly. Old and frightened. His mouth moved again, but his voice seemed to be coming from a great distance, almost drowned out by the roaring in her ears.
He shook her so hard it felt as if her teeth were rattling. His eyes were dark pools that promised death. “Tell me,” he repeated, his voice suddenly a roar that re
verberated through her brain.
I can’t, she wanted to say, because I just don’t know. And she smiled as the darkness rushed through her mind and took the words away.
JON GLANCED AT HIS WATCH FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE THE thousandth time. Nearly two hours had passed since he’d left Maddie in Hank’s clutches. It seemed like an eternity.
He thumped his hand against the wall, then stared out the window, watching the rain dance across the pavement. There was nothing more he could do now but wait. He had to ensure Evan’s safety before he did anything else.
He glanced toward the bed. The teenager was still in a drugged sleep. In the last ten minutes he had at least shown some sign of stirring, but the process of waking was taking entirely too long.
Jon shifted his stance impatiently, then studied the white mark around his ring finger. He still had no idea why he’d given Maddie his father’s ring. Granted, he didn’t want to lose it, but he’d made the change with the ring on his finger before and had just scooped it up in his talons and taken it with him. So why give it to her when he’d sworn never to give it to any woman except the one he loved?
Because it’s something of me she can hold on to. It’s all I can give her, all that I’m free to give.
The thought shook him. But what shook him more was the sudden, desperate need to have her close, to hold on tight and never let her go.
His father had told him long ago that a hunter gave his heart only once, to one special lady. Well, he’d long ago dedicated his heart and his soul to his work. There was no room for anything else. No room to worry about anyone else. He just couldn’t afford any sort of entanglements in his work.
Wasn’t that why he’d cut himself off from his family so long ago, why he continued to rebuff their efforts to talk to him, to understand why he’d become such a stranger? It was safer that way. If he had no one to love, he had no one to become a target for his many enemies. And once Evan was safe, Maddie could go home and be safe, as she’d wanted all along. And he could get on with the job of apprehending Eleanor and Hank without having to worry about her.
There was a slight rustle of blankets from the bed. Jon turned and met the teenager’s wide eyes—eyes that were the same warm amber as Maddie’s.
Finally, he thought, and forced a smile. “You’re safe, Evan. There’s no need to worry.”
The kid blinked, still wide-eyed, and yet curiously not afraid. “I know you,” he said in a voice that was little more than a cracked whisper.
Jon raised his eyebrows. “I doubt it—”
“No,” Evan cut in. “You were in my dreams. I tried to find Aunt Maddie, but all I saw was you. So I sent you to her.”
He remembered the force that had drawn him to Maddie. He’d known it was somehow connected to her, but up until now, hadn’t even thought about it being Evan himself. Psychic abilities obviously ran in the family. But which ones? And did Maddie know? Was that why she was so close to Evan?
He smiled to relieve the suddenly anxious look on the kid’s face. “Yes, you did.” He hesitated, then added, “Why were you trying to contact her via a dream? Why not simply phone her?”
“I couldn’t.”
Jon frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I couldn’t talk to anyone. Not about the dreams, not about the feeling I had that something bad was about to happen.” The kid frowned. “Every time I tried, it felt like someone was squeezing the words from my throat. It was weird.”
It wasn’t that weird—not if there was magic involved. “Do you know what has happened?”
Evan hesitated, then shook his head. “I remember waking, thinking it was really hot in the room. I was going to get up and open a window, but before I could, I saw a ghostly figure. Then something wrapped around me, and I can’t remember anything else.”
“How ghostly? Was it just mist, or a figure?”
He shrugged. “Bit of both. I couldn’t really tell if it was male or female, though.”
Meaning that Eleanor was either using the sylphs to kidnap the kids or using magic to get either her or Hank in and out of the rooms—and that was the reason the cops and the FBI had been unable to find any point of entry. Magic didn’t need an entry point, and neither did the sylphs. And while they couldn’t force flesh and blood through walls, it would be easy enough for one of them to open and close a window. But at least the kid had no memory of events after being taken—that was something to be thankful for. “Well, some bad people kidnapped you, but Maddie and I got you out.”
“But where’s Aunt Maddie now?” Evan sat straight up in bed, his face white with fear.
Jon wondered whether it was the normal anxiety of a kidnapped kid wanting to be safe in the arms of his family or the fear of a psychic who knows a loved one is in terrible danger.
What in hell is happening to her? He swallowed a sudden rush of tension and walked across the room. Kneeling next to the bed, he placed a calming hand on the kid’s shoulder—even though calm was the last thing he felt himself. “She isn’t here. I have to go get her, as soon as we have some protection for you.”
Evan stared at him, his amber eyes dark with fear. So like Maddie’s, Jon thought, and he knew he’d have to move soon, before the wait drove him mad. “They have her,” Evan whispered. “They’ll hurt her.”
If they did, they’d pay. He forced a smile, even though Evan was smart enough to see past it.
“I’ll bring her back. I promise.”
Evan stared at him, then solemnly nodded. “I believe you.”
Jon wished he believed it. “Evan, how long have you been dreaming?”
The kid shrugged. “Ages. Sometimes I dream about things in the future and sometimes about things in the past.”
“And you can’t do anything else?”
Evan frowned. “Like what?”
“Move things around with a thought.” Or light fires when he was afraid.
He shook his head. “Nothing like that—although it would be a pretty cool ability to have.”
Jon smiled. “Why haven’t you told anyone about the dreams?”
“Because they’re just dreams.”
“Dreams that sometimes come true.”
The kid shrugged. “Yeah, but who’s going to believe me?”
“Maddie would. She has a similar gift and would have believed you.”
He hesitated. “Yeah, but she’s in enough trouble with Dad because of it. I didn’t want to land her in more.”
A sharp knock at the door rattled the silence, making the kid jump. Jon squeezed his shoulder and went quickly to the window. Mack and a bear of a man in a police uniform stood out front.
When Jon glanced back, the teenager had huddled down in the blankets. “It’s okay. Just the police,” he said, unlocking the door.
“This better be good, Barnett. I was enjoying a mighty fine lunch.” Mack dripped water onto the old carpet as he stomped past. “Ben Morley, meet Jon Barnett, the private investigator I mentioned earlier.”
Jon shook the big man’s hand, then closed the door once he’d come through.
“Mack, meet Evan. Evan, Mack’s from the FBI, and he’s trying to help the police. Why don’t you tell him what you just told me?”
Evan licked his lips, glancing quickly at the big man before looking back at Jon. “He’s okay?”
Jon smiled at Mack’s raised eyebrow, then nodded. It was odd that Evan seemed to trust him, even though they barely knew each other. But then, the kid had not only reached him when he was stuck down the well, but had guided his astral travels toward Maddie, as well. Maybe there was some form of psychic connection between him and the teenager. He’d learned long ago that anything was possible.
He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, listening to the harsh rasp of the kid’s voice. As anxious as he was to rescue Maddie, there was nothing to be done until Evan had told his story. The last thing he wanted was to rescue Maddie from Hank’s grip only to have her fall into Mack’s. At least this way she
’d be free to go.
Mack glanced at him once the kid had finished, and motioned toward the door. “We need to talk.”
Jon nodded and glanced at Evan. “We’ll just be outside, okay?”
The kid nodded, and eyed Officer Morley warily. He didn’t seem afraid, however, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jon followed Mack out the door.
“Do you believe the kid’s story?” Mack said the moment Jon had closed the door.
“Yeah, I do.”
“But ghosts? I mean, come on—it’s not a ghost that’s kidnapping and killing these kids.”
“No.” It was more likely a sylph, but he wasn’t about to mention that. “But he was half asleep at the time, remember. What he might have seen was a gray-clad figure coming at him.”
Mack grunted. “What about the other kid? Did you spot her?”
Jon hesitated, but there was no point in lying. “Yeah, but I didn’t have time to get her out.”
“So both Eleanor and Hank were there?”
“Hank was.”
Mack swore. “Damn it, Barnett, why the fuck didn’t you call me? I should haul your ass down to the station and charge you for impeding an investigation.”
Jon grimaced. “Maddie found them, not me, but given her psychic talents are somewhat raw, I wasn’t about to waste your time until I knew for certain we’d found the right place.” He hesitated, then added in a low voice, “There’s one other problem, Mack. They took Maddie hostage when I was getting Evan out.”
“Isn’t that just great.” Mack’s gray eyes were hard with anger. “You haul a civilian into a crime investigation and end up losing her. Real smart move, Barnett.”
He ran a hand across his mouth. What Mack had said was true. If he’d made her stay here, as instinct had told him to do, she’d be safe. But he’d given in to the plea in her eyes, and now she was paying for his weakness.
“Where’s the cabin?” Mack continued roughly.
“The place is called the Malkin Cabin. It’s off 202, about fifteen miles out of Jewell.”
“Is there a chance that they’re still there?”
He shrugged. Hank wasn’t a fool, but there was always the chance he couldn’t move quickly. It would depend on the type of ceremony Eleanor was preparing. “Maybe.”