A rising tide of panic lifted from the pit of her stomach to sweep through her body. That was all the information she had to give him. She couldn’t tell him anything else even if she wanted to. So why was he still here? What more could he want from her?
“But I’ve just told you. I don’t know where Teresa went.”
“Yes, but you do know the witch,” he mused and closed the distance between them in the span of a single heartbeat. “I’m sure if you really search your mind, you’ll be able to give me lots of details about Teresa’s life. Where she might go. Who she might trust.”
Elena’s breath caught in her throat as his big hands came down on her upper arms and he lifted her up until she was balanced on her toes, trying to keep her feet.
“Now,” he said, locking his gaze with hers, “we’re going to have a long talk, you and I.”
Elena swallowed hard and tried to look away. But that pale gray gaze was now swirling like liquid silver, glittering with power and secrets, and it held her as if she were a rabbit staring down a cobra.
“I have no wish to torture you,” he said.
Good. That’s good.
“But make no mistake,” he promised as his eyes glowed with a hot brightness that shone like the porch light to hell, “I will. To get what I want, I will do whatever’s necessary.”
Helpless, Elena did the only thing left to her.
She prayed.
Chapter 14
R une drew on the fire and flashed himself to the interior of Teresa’s house. The moment he appeared, he sensed the imminent danger. There were hunters nearby. Probably watching this house and if they were, then he knew they had seen his arrival. He had only moments before an attack came.
Not that he was worried about his own survival. Yes, white gold could bring him down, but he was still a true immortal. The only thing that would kill him was decapitation. And even then, he doubted that his god, Belen, would allow him to die permanently. At least, not until their task was complete and Belen’s lover, Danu, was satisfied that her witches had at last corrected the hideous wrong committed so long ago.
He glanced around the small room with its comfortable but worn furnishings and he felt Teresa’s essence here. This was where she lived and dreamed and laughed. There was a sense of warmth to the tiny house that told him this was her safe place. The one spot in the world where she felt most comfortable. Her home. And she would probably never see it again.
Dismissing his wandering thoughts, Rune focused his attention on the damn bird Teresa refused to live without. He would have spotted it instantly even if it hadn’t whistled sharply at his sudden arrival.
It looked like a miniature parrot. Sapphire blue head, dark orange beak curved downward, brilliant green ring of color around its neck and spilling down its back. Bright yellow and orange colored its narrow chest and its beady eyes were locked onto Rune as it squawked the same phrase over and over. It took him a minute to understand the bird’s attempt at language, but when he did he almost smiled.
Teresa had trained the bird to shout a warning. Over and over again, the pretty rat with wings shrieked, “Run for it!”
Amusement aside, Rune gritted his teeth. He’d never liked birds. Probably went back to the Middle Ages, when hawks were kept and trained by noblemen. One of his fellow Eternals, Odell, had kept the damn things and one of the feathered bastards had clawed Rune’s face open one fine day.
Later that night, the hawk had made a tasty stew.
Since then, Rune had hated birds. Especially so called “tame” ones. Treacherous creatures.
“Be grateful I’m not roasting you for a snack, you wretched bag of fluff.”
The bird screeched again.
“Run for it!”
He was going to regret this—he could already feel it. But there was no hope for it now. Sweeping one hand out, he captured the damn bird before it could take flight off its perch. “It’s your lucky day,” he told it in a whisper. “Don’t push me.”
Rune heard the hunters before he saw them. They hit the front door with a crash and came spilling into Teresa’s tiny home like water from a fire hose. Guns lifted. Men shouted. Rune laughed.
Then he called on the fire and disappeared as white-gold bullets shredded the air where he had just been.
Chapter 15
“Chico!”
The ridiculous bird flew right to Teresa, perched on her shoulder and bobbed up and down like it was doing a victory dance. Then it turned to give Rune the evil eye. While it shook itself, ruffling its brilliant feathers, Rune spoke up.
“You’ve got the bird. Now we get out of here.”
“Right,” she said with a nod. “Just one more stop to make before we go.”
“Are you insane? There were hunters at your house. Waiting for you. You’ve already fought one and the others have found him by now. We need to leave.”
Gently stroking her bird’s back, Teresa paled a little, but even as he noted that, Rune saw a spark of defiance shine in her eyes. “Not until we make sure Elena’s safe. She gave me the things I needed to help you and I probably took the feds right to her door.”
He understood loyalty. Respected it. And in other circumstances would have admired seeing that trait in his witch. But now was not the time.
“If you did, there’s no help for it now,” he said. “Your friend knew what she was doing. She chose to help.”
“And now I’m choosing to do the same.” Teresa took a step toward him, the stupid bird still bobbing and weaving on her shoulder. Her gaze was fixed on him and her features were set in a blank mask that revealed nothing of what she was feeling. “I know I said I’d leave after you got Chico, and I’m sorry about that. But I have to make sure Elena’s all right. You can either come with me or wait here or, hell, I don’t know … go ahead to Mexico and I’ll meet you there.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Which?”
“Any.” He watched her closely and saw her loyalty warring with her innate sense of duty. Just as she had done so many years ago, Rune noted, she was forcing a choice on herself. Back then it had been simple. Side with Rune—do her duty as she knew it to be—or throw in her lot with the coven and her sister witches in their quest for power and knowledge.
Rune had trusted her then. He had believed that they were one in heart and mind. But she’d betrayed herself, him and everything she had ever believed in.
“You expect me to trust you?” he said, the deep rumble of his voice rolling out around her.
“Yeah,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because I trusted you once. And you betrayed me.”
“What? I—”
Suddenly he didn’t care about the feds. Or the need to get out of Sedona. He wanted Teresa to remember. To grab hold of the past and understand who and what she was. And he had no time to wait for all of her memories to return on their own.
He seized her shoulders, his huge hands gripping tightly. His gray eyes bored into hers, delving into her mind, reaching for the past that had been buried for too long. “Think, Teresa. Remember.”
She staggered a little under his touch, but her eyes were awash with the flashing shifts of emotion. He felt her tremble as ancient memories were awoken.
“Oh, God,” she said softly. “It was us. The coven. We did a spell with the Artifact. We wanted to open the portals to other dimensions. To gather more power. More knowledge.”
“Yes,” he said, maintaining his hold on her shoulders.
She blinked as a sheen of tears filled her eyes. “The spell went wrong. We …” She shook her head and he knew the memory wasn’t clear enough for her yet, so he told her the rest of it.
“You opened the gate to hell. Demons poured out of the opening you carved. The Eternals fought back, but couldn’t reach you. You were all in a protected circle; you had shut yourselves off from us. We could only watch and fight.”
“We did this,” she whispered brokenly. “All of it. The s
pell. The evil in the world. The Awakening. It’s all because of what we did that night.”
“Yes.”
She blew out a breath and wiped one hand across her face, as if she were trying to reconcile herself to this new information. He knew it would take time. He knew she didn’t have all of her memories yet and when they returned it wouldn’t be easy for her to deal with them.
Belen knew, Rune had had eight hundred years to reconcile himself to the past and still it ate at him. So he wouldn’t blindly trust her to do the right thing. Neither of them could afford mistakes this time around, though, and if that meant he had to protect her from herself—from misplaced loyalties—then that’s just what he would do.
“I still need to check on Elena,” she told him. “And I need your help to do it.”
“Your friend means nothing to this quest,” he said, though the words sounded brutally cold even to him.
“She means something to me,” Teresa told him flatly. “And I swear to God, if you flash me out of here against my will—”
“You’ll do what exactly?” he demanded. “Turn your back on your duty? Again?”
“Don’t do that,” she snapped. “Don’t compare me to that foolish woman from so long ago. I’m not her. I’m Teresa Santiago and I’m damn well going to do what I think is right whether you agree or not.”
When he only scowled at her, she continued.
“Look,” she said, reaching out to lay one small hand on his chest, “I know we have to go. I can feel it, too. But I can’t go not knowing if Elena is safe. She’s family to me and I don’t have many people I care for. Give me that and I’ll go.”
He couldn’t believe that once again he would be swayed by the very witch who had made his eternity a misery so far. He was an Eternal. Drawn from the belly of the sun. He bowed to no one, human or demon.
And yet … The feel of her hand on his chest. The sound of her soft breaths. The trusting gleam in her eyes. And oh, Belen, the scent of her—earth and sky and woman. All witches smelled of the earth magic that bubbled through their veins, but each witch carried a singular blend of that scent, too. Something that made her unique. Something that tantalized her mate and made him consider foolish things.
She was tall, yet beside him she seemed so much smaller and vulnerable. The unbeating heart in his chest clenched with need and he wondered why he was going to allow her what she needed despite knowing that it would be a stupid move.
Because, a voice in his mind whispered, your body hungers for her. Your heart aches for her. Despite everything. Despite the years, the betrayal, the loneliness—she is yours.
All true, he told himself. But that didn’t mean he would ever trust her. Not this time. Not when the fate of the world hung in the balance.
“I take you to her and then we leave.”
She blew out a breath and gave him a fast smile that swept across her features and was gone in an instant. “Agreed.”
“Fine,” he muttered, reaching out to grab her and pull her in close to his body. He ignored the bird’s outraged squawk, focused on the feel of Teresa’s body aligned with his, then called on the fire and vanished.
Chapter 16
“Missed him. Damn it, you missed him.” Landry Harper’s right hand curled into a fist and it was all he could do to keep from smashing it into College Boy’s face. The bastard had had one job. Sniper. All he’d had to do was shoot whoever showed up at Santiago’s house.
But the sight of a man appearing within a pillar of flames had thrown him for a couple of stinking seconds and the shot went wild. Now God knew where the bastard and the witch were.
“Get off my ass,” the kid argued, embarrassment warring with anger in his tone.
“How the hell could you miss him?” Landry demanded, still considering throwing that punch. His entire body vibrated with frustration and fury. This is what happened when the higher-ups recruited out of college instead of the military. Give Landry a good old-fashioned foot soldier who knew how to take orders and he could get the job done any day.
“That fucker had to be six foot five. Made a hell of a target.”
“Yeah and he was on fire, all right?” the kid muttered, wiping one hand across his face as if he could dislodge the memory. “Shocked the hell out of me, okay? How did he do that? What the hell was that?”
Landry didn’t have a clue how to explain the man who’d appeared to be on fire. But he knew that only a month ago, two beings just like him had raided the prison on Terminal Island. They had killed several guards and rescued a couple of witches. So in his book the Fire Man was the enemy, plain and simple. And there was only one way to treat the enemy.
Shoot first—ask no questions.
Ever.
“Doesn’t matter what he was or how he does it,” Landry told him with a sneer. “Your job was to kill him and now we’re up shit creek without the proverbial damn boat or paddle.”
The witch’s house was shot to shit and though they’d searched it thoroughly, they hadn’t found anything to lead them to her. The Fire Man had appeared, taken her bird and disappeared in the time it took to think that sentence. So now there was nothing for them here. Landry knew the witch was long gone. They had no chance of finding her in Sedona.
It meant the hunt had to be turned over to the Bureau of Witchcraft. BOW’s agents would eventually run her to ground. For him and the rest of the MPs, though, this one had been a gigantic waste of time. They would report to their superiors and get the next assignment.
But Landry knew he wouldn’t forget the witch. She would forever haunt him as one of those who had escaped him. The memories of failed missions made for some long, sleepless nights and a hell of a lot of rage.
He left the house with the college kid and walked into the stormy weather. Glancing around the quiet street, he watched as neighbors pulled back drapes and peered out into the driving rain. A silencer had muffled the report of the high-powered rifle, but Landry and the other agents had made a hell of a noise when they broke into the witch’s house. Naturally, they’d attracted attention from the neighbors.
The people in the tidy houses on this narrow street would sneak peeks from behind closed doors, but they wouldn’t come out. No one interfered in a witch hunt. Well, no one except the maniacs in the RFW. The organization Rights for Witches was starting to pick up steam here lately since the daughter of the damn president had joined it. They were getting all kinds of media, and despite the fear that lingered over the very idea of witchcraft, there were now enough bleeding hearts starting to speak up that a man never knew when he’d run into a crazed government protestor. What the hell the world was coming to when a man couldn’t kill a damn witch to protect society, he had no idea.
Landry almost hoped for a confrontation with one of the neighbors. It would give him something to do with the anger pumping through him. But as the minutes passed and the street remained quiet, he knew he was doomed to disappointment.
“What now?”
He looked at the younger man beside him. “Now we go back to HQ, report the fuckup and get our next assignment.”
College Boy swiveled his head around, as if searching for the very witch they’d already lost. “You mean we just leave? We don’t try to hunt her down?”
“We leave,” Landry said, narrowing his gaze against the darkness and the rain. “This one’s out of our reach. Nothing to do about it.”
“But—”
For the first time, Landry almost felt a kinship to the kid. He was young, but he was eager to kill witches, so that said something for him, anyway. Turning up the collar of his black and gold MP jacket against the rain, he shrugged. “First thing you gotta remember in this game, kid, is that there’s always another witch.”
Chapter 17
The smell stopped them cold.
Teresa gagged and turned her face into Rune’s broad chest. Chico flew from her shoulder to swoop down the hall toward the front of the clinic, but Teresa hardly noticed. She was too busy
trying to catch her breath. The stench clinging to the still air of the clinic was overpowering. Rune’s arms came around her and for one brief second she allowed herself to lean into him.
She was so accustomed to standing on her own that it went against her very nature to take comfort from someone else. To depend on someone else’s strength. But at the same time, being this close to Rune felt … familiar in a way that she’d never known before. His body was big, but it felt as though it had been made to fit against hers. And as he held her head to his chest, her own body stirred, despite the situation.
“What is that?” she asked finally, her voice muffled by his body.
He gave her a hard, brief squeeze, then set her back from him. His eyes were narrowed and swirling with energy and power until they looked like two pools of molten silver.
“I’ll find out. Stay here.” He set off down the hall toward the front of the clinic with long strides.
As if from a distance, she heard Chico’s piercing whistle followed by his screech of “Run for it!”
“Like hell,” she said, following right behind him. “You might as well know right now that I’m not the kind of girl to stay hidden, hoping a big, strong man will come along to save me.”
Her bootheels clicked on the linoleum floor, but the sound was almost lost under the clomp of Rune’s heavier steps.
“Teresa,” he said, half turning to glower at her, “you don’t want to go in there.”
From inside the room, Chico continued to squawk “Run for it!” over and over again until her head pounded in time with the bird’s voice.
Teresa pushed past Rune and saw—
“Oh, my God. Elena.”
She dropped to her knees beside the charred body of her friend. Anguish flooded her and tears spilled from her eyes, her grief shaking her to her soul. Instinctively, she reached out to take Elena’s hand in hers but stopped before touching her.
Elena.
A howl rose up inside her, but her throat wouldn’t let it escape. There was a huge knot of pain blocking its passage and Teresa knew that this pain would always be with her. She stared down at the body of her friend and wanted more than anything to scream a denial to the universe.
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