Chapter 26
Designed specifically for the Quytel, the sleek Concord had plush, ultra-comfortably large leather seats lining each side and a fully equipped office in the rear.
Cole couldn’t stop pacing the length of the cabin, the pearl riding him hard. Bri’s soul breathed in his. He knew she was alive; could somehow feel what was happening to her. He’d sensed her nausea, fear, anger, and her connection to Celeste. He wanted to smash something.
Maliha’s worry pressed in on him as she absently flipped pages in the magazine in her lap. She tried to give him space, but he knew her too well.
Ash rose from his seat at the front of the plane. Cole frowned when the blond-haired Warrior dropped into the vacant seat next to his sister and leaned over, crowding a bit too close for his comfort.
“So, you’re the computer whiz,” Ash confirmed.
Cole stopped pacing and listened, watching them through hooded eyes, ready for a fight if his sister seemed at all bothered. One push and his control would slip that last critical notch.
Maliha glanced at him across the cabin with a pointed look. He crossed his arms and tuned in to their conversation, raising an eyebrow. Whether she liked it or not, his sister was under his protection and he didn’t trust the playboy Warrior. Cole might not be able to take him in a fight, but there were other ways to make sure Mali was safe.
“Something like that,” she replied to Ash’s question, glaring back at him.
“So, that’s a useful talent,” Ash volleyed lazily, his arm on the rest between their seats.
“Is there something you want?”
“Oh, yes,” he said softly.
“Go away.” Mali turned to stare out the small window.
Ash chuckled beside her, and Cole fought down his rage. Mali detested any show of weakness, so of course she’d tell the bastard to go to hell, but when she turned back their eyes locked.
What felt like minutes later, Ash broke contact, swearing softly in a language Cole didn’t understand.
“What did you want?” Mali demanded again, a slight quaver to her voice that pissed Cole off.
“Nothing I can have,” Ash muttered and slumped in his chair, facing the front of the plane.
“Are you bothering my sister again?” Cole demanded, unable to hold himself in check any longer. Flying was a challenge for Cole on a good day, being so far removed from the earth, and today was not a good day.
Nathanial stood behind him, silent and steady.
“Calm down,” Ash said in irritation, waving a dismissive hand as if he were an aristocrat dealing with a peasant not worth his time.
“It’s fine, Cole,” Mali insisted, viewing Ash under her lashes. “He was just leaving.”
“Was I?” Lightness returned to Ash’s features, softening sharp lines, his amusement spiking.
Byron sauntered over, grinning from ear to ear. “No luck?”
Ash gave him a glare, bumping Mali’s elbow with his.
Byron clapped Cole on the shoulder and laughed. “Ash fancies himself quite the ladies’ man.” He scratched at the stubble on his chin with one hand. “He usually is, now that I think about it.”
“Very smooth.” Maliha stood. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Cole took a step back. In his current mood, he was afraid he might start another fight he couldn’t win. Without the earth’s stabilizing force, it was a fine line.
Byron plopped into the seat Maliha had vacated and patted Ash on the knee. “It’s okay, kid. You’ve got to lose one, once in a while.”
A whip of lightning sizzled the back of Byron’s hand, leaving a singed mark.
“Ow!” Byron yelped and let loose a big belly laugh, taking the tension in the cabin down a notch. Cole even caught Darius’s brief smile from his seat several yards away.
Mostly ignoring their banter, Cole followed his sister, choosing two large leather chairs facing the office at the rear of the plane. She appeared more flushed and irritated than worried. He could thank Ash for distracting her at least. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
He raised an eyebrow in question, and she rolled her eyes. Cole made a face at her. His sister might actually like the guy, which presented a whole different problem, one he wasn’t sure how to handle.
Jonah emerged from the office, and approached them quickly. “I’ve spoken with your teammates on the phone. Dean and Jay have been tracking the energy from the last few psychic deaths and think they have a more specific location near the base of Mount Rainier. Mack is nearly healed and joined them this morning.”
“Dean is brilliant with computers, and my program has rarely been wrong. We’ve perfected the system,” Mali announced, all business, then turned to Cole. “Will you be able to follow the compulsion to find her?”
“Oh yeah,” he replied, silently relishing the moment when he could let the wolf free to tear Bri’s captors limb from limb.
“Good,” Jonah said, although his expression didn’t change. “We’ll be landing in a few minutes.”
The descent to the small, privately owned airfield outside of Seattle was quick and easy. The plane came to an abrupt stop at the end of the shortened runway, and they taxied into a large hanger. The door closed firmly behind them, evidence their arrival wasn’t logged anywhere.
The moment they touched down, Cole felt more centered, the rhythm of the compulsion humming in his bloodstream less erratically. When his feet hit the tarmac a few minutes later, he welcomed the solid strength of soil and rock, even separated from it as he was by concrete. He sent his fear, rage, helplessness, all of it spiraling along the connection he held with the earth—his lifeline to sanity.
The interior of the hangar was as plush as their private jet had been. By the looks of it, they had the entire place to themselves. Near the door, Mack stood in front of two black Hummers with tinted windows. Cole shook his head. The vehicles had not been designed to blend, but they might need the horsepower depending on where Anton had made his base.
Mack’s arms crossed over his chest as he formed a fierce expression that made his already angular features even more hawk-like. His golden eyes flashed like bullion when he saw his Commander. Jonah shook the Warrior’s hand in greeting, an equally tight expression on his face. Power pulsed in the air between the two, and if Cole didn’t know better, he suspected a longstanding disagreement brewed between them.
“Good to see you.” Byron punched Mack lightly in the shoulder, distracting him from Jonah.
“Mack.” Darius shook his hand, and they pulled each other into a brief hug.
“Good to see you in one piece.” Cole stepped forward to grasp the Warrior’s outstretched hand. He turned to introduce the rest of his team. “This is my sister, Maliha, and Nathanial, another member of our team. You’ve already had the pleasure of working with Dean and Jay.”
Mack shook his hand. “That I have. They are quite a combination.”
Cole gestured to Nathanial, who gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, but didn’t approach the group.
“Dean and Jay are eager to see you,” Mack told them. “We can be at their location in about an hour. They’re stationed in a cabin a few miles from where we believe the source is located.”
“Anton?” Cole asked.
“Perhaps.” Mack gave a slow nod. “I believe Rowan is certainly there.”
“And Bri? Did you find her?”
“We can’t detect her or Celeste at this point.”
Cole needed to move or he’d crawl right out of his skin. “Let’s go.”
“Maliha and Cole will ride with us,” Jonah said as he and Mack climbed into one of the waiting Hummers. “Nathanial, go with Darius and Ash.”
Nathanial raised a dark eyebrow, but didn’t protest the order. He gave Col
e a silent salute as he followed the other Warriors to the second vehicle.
Mack started the engine and pressed a button on the dashboard. The steel door to the hanger opened halfway to allow the cars to exit. He navigated the Hummer across the quiet airfield and out onto the highway. Night had closed in, and Bri was out there somewhere in it, afraid and likely fighting for her life.
“Dean has been eager to talk to you.” Mack handed Maliha a cell phone over his shoulder as he drove.
She flipped it open, and Dean’s voice came online almost immediately. Cole heard his crude joking concern that always made his sister laugh. She listened to Dean’s nonstop monologue filling her in on their progress as she made affirmative noises here and there. “Great . . . good.” Her voice edged with excitement. “We’ll be there soon.”
Mali disconnected. “Dean has set up a program which can detect strong concentrations of energy and trace it to within fifty feet of the source almost as soon as it happens. He has to be within a hundred miles, and they’re close enough that he’s already had a couple of indicators pop up.”
Jonah glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “You put a lot of stock in a machine being able to track these kinds of phenomena.”
Maliha nodded. “I do.”
“Dean showed me,” Mack added, a note of approval in his voice. “I gave them Rowan’s energetic frequency, which was a challenge to translate into something the computer could understand. From there, they were able to locate where we think Bri is being held.”
It was all Cole could do to pay attention to their conversation. He welcomed the blanket of darkness and the unusually clear Seattle night. The further they drove away from the lights of the airport, the more stars dotted the sky. Discordant notes clanged in his bloodstream, but the compulsion slowly realigned with the beat of his body. The wolf grew less agitated. They were getting closer to Bri, but not quickly enough.
Maliha laid her hand on his knee, and when he turned, a silent question shone in her eyes. He nodded, and knew she understood he was barely hanging on.
Chapter 27
“Move,” the taller of the two abductors ordered, shoving Bri forward. She’d regained consciousness, but not enough to catch herself before she stumbled into the hard rock wall at her back.
Her head buzzed as though an electric shock had fried the circuits. Her vision was still fuzzy, and the additional smack to the skull didn’t help.
“Are you okay?” Celeste telepathically connected, though Bri couldn’t see her.
She tried to nod, but that set off jackhammers at her temples. “I think so. What did they do to me?”
“They attempted to suppress your abilities with a spell. As they did to me.”
Perfect, a magical-knockout hangover was just what she needed. Rolling to her side, Bri’s stomach settled and her vision clearing. They were definitely underground in an intricate network of tunnels. Her chest pounded and her palms began to sweat as she tried to thrust the intrusive images of the nightmare cave out of her mind. There was no escape; they were taking her to Rowan.
The two men waited in front of a metal door the size of a cargo van. The stockier one had Celeste’s magically restrained body slung over his right shoulder.
“Put her down,” Bri rasped, leaning heavily on the rock for support.
The man sneered and cocked his head to his companion.
He moved fast, backhanding Bri across the face with enough force to knock her to the ground. Her body went momentarily numb, and she crumpled. That was no normal slap.
“Bastard.” She stared up at the smooth surface of the curved ceiling of the tunnel. A knot had begun to take form high on her cheek, threatening to develop into a bruise that could swell her eye shut.
“Don’t antagonize them,” Celeste hissed in her head. “Are you hurt?”
Bri seethed, crouching at their abductor’s feet. “I’m fine.”
The one who hit her grabbed her forearm hard and hauled her to her feet. Judging from his biting grip, she’d sport a few more bruises. Feeling rushed back into her limbs.
“Try not to resist,” he advised, pressing a button embedded in the wall. The metal door rose into the curve of the tunnel ceiling. “There’s no fighting her.”
Bri’s heart pounded and her mouth went dry. She knew who they were talking about.
“Bri,” Celeste cautioned. “Prepare yourself.”
How the hell she was supposed to do that, she had no idea. She didn’t have much time to think about it either. As soon as the door reached head height, the man pushed her through. Steadier on her feet, Bri didn’t fall this time. The dimly lit chamber made it difficult to see where they were. She reached out in both directions for balance.
A moment later, the clanging of metal signaled that the door had closed behind them. They’d been thrust into some sort of a holding cell by the feel of it.
“Celeste?” Bri called, blind in the now pitch dark.
“Over here.” Her sister spoke from behind her.
She turned in the direction of the voice and squinted into the darkness. She could barely make out Celeste’s form a few feet from her. Bri rushed to her side as a burst of light illuminated the space, blinding her.
Her eyes slowly adjusted.
The high ceiling rose sixty feet above her head. Beautiful yet unnatural crystals lined the interior. Bri bent low and spun, thinking only to protect Celeste from whoever had turned on the lights.
She froze, every detail of her nightmare laid out with exquisite precision before her. The crystal-lined cave, the altar, the dripping water, and the figure standing with her back to them.
Long robes swirled around the woman’s ankles and silver hair fell down to her waist. She glowed, pulsing with a rhythm that beat in time to the subtle ebb and flow of the colored crystals and the relentless dripping of water from stalactites to pools below.
Fear threatened to paralyze Bri. This was not a nightmare. This was real. And the woman standing in front of them was her mother.
Bri glanced over her shoulder at Celeste. Deep lines of strain ringed her sister’s eyes and mouth, her skin a pasty white. Her attention locked on the woman in front of them.
Despite her expression, Celeste’s mental voice remained calm and reassuring. “My powers are returning. We need to buy time.”
“So, he sent you to me,” the woman said without turning. “Why, I wonder?”
Bri couldn’t move, not if her life depended on it, which it probably did. The voice, achingly familiar, vibrated with sadness.
“Rowan,” Celeste called, color returning to her cheeks as she pushed herself to standing.
In a swirl of blue silk and silver hair, the figure turned to face them, green eyes cool and assessing.
She raised a delicately arched eyebrow. “Celeste, this is an unexpected surprise. You should not have come.”
“You say it as though we had a choice in the matter,” she shot back.
“Well, you’re here now so there’s nothing to be done about it.” Rowan shrugged dispassionately and her eyes flicked toward Bri, almost passed right over her, then did a double take to really look at her.
“Brianna?” Her voice, clear up until then, now hitched in her throat.
Bri took a step toward her, unable to formulate words. The woman in front of her wore the twisted pain of a thousand deaths in every line on her face.
“Don’t.” Rowan held up a staying palm.
Her expression shredded Bri’s control. “Mother,” she whispered, but stopped—barely breathing—wanting to feel, to touch, to make sure the woman standing in front of her was real.
“You can’t. I’m too unstable,” Rowan warned, both hands extended defensively in front of her. “Celeste, don’t let her near me.”
Bri
stumbled forward, reaching out, uncaring of the danger. She was on her knees in the next instant, forced by unseen hands to the smooth cave floor by a gentle web of Celeste’s magic that held her in place.
“Please,” Bri begged, sorrow piercing her heart.
Rowan’s distress was punctuated by hollowed cheeks and trembling hands. “You can’t. You have no idea of the danger to you.”
Celeste knelt and pulled Bri into her arms. She resisted for a moment and then let her sister rock her until she could pull the scattered pieces of herself together. She’d been prepared for her mother to be evil, not a desperate and tortured shell of her former self.
“When we saw you in the last vision, who were you looking for?” Celeste asked over the top of Bri’s head. No time for family reunions, then. “What were you trying to tell us?”
“It was you.” Rowan straightened, dropping her arms to her sides.
“Tell me,” Celeste insisted. “We don’t have much time.”
Rowan sank to the floor a few feet from them, her long blue robes gathering around her in pools of silk. She stared at Bri, transfixed.
Bri held Celeste’s arm in a death grip, drinking in the sight of her mother.
“Who did this to you?” The pain of anger cracked her voice.
Rowan raised red-rimmed eyes to look at Celeste. “Anton d’Arc.”
Bri glanced at her sister, spotting the flash of recognition which Rowan also noted.
“He wants to defeat Jonah and bring down the Quytel.” Disappointment permeated Rowan’s tone, and Bri wasn’t clear if she agreed with Anton’s goal or not. “He’s been using me to steal and store psychic power, and he wants Bri for the same purpose. I’ve been trying to stop that from happening.” She paused, ramrod straight, condemnation flashing in her sunken eyes. “And Jonah hand-delivered you to him.”
Circle of Dreams (The Quytel Series Book 1) Page 26