She couldn’t let him talk her out of her plan. One man had already lost his life, and she couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else getting hurt. “I can stop this,” she said.
“No. You can’t,” he disagreed flatly. “I feel bad about what happened to Mike, too.” It was like he was reading her mind. “The safety of this team is my responsibility. If you want to blame someone, blame me, not yourself.”
“It’s me they really want,” she insisted.
“You’re not thinking clearly. Our enemies have already demonstrated that they want to obtain or destroy everything and everyone related to your exorcism.”
“I’ll convince them that I’m the only person who knows how to perform the ceremony, and I won’t do it again.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know our opponents like I do. Mercy and compassion are not qualities they possess. Until we resolve this conflict, anyone closely associated with you or your exorcism notes is in danger.” Her distress must have shown on her face, for he paused and raised a hand in apology. “I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. It is what it is. Eliminating you is only one of their objectives. I would appreciate it if you didn’t make that easy for them.”
Amanda sighed. If Blackstone was right, then going to the Foundation wouldn’t have accomplished anything. Her enemies would have checked her off their list and continued with their campaign. But she had to do something.
Blackstone wasn’t finished with her. “We are all feeling frustrated and impotent because our opponents have had the initiative up to now. But we are going to change that, and to do so, I need your help here.” He reached out and took her hand, holding her fingers with his and raising her hand between them as if he were going to kiss the back of it. “Can I count on you to help me save your friends and defeat the Red Claw Coven?”
The formality of their pose and the seriousness of his tone drove all confusion and duplicity from her thoughts. It was like his question triggered a light that chased the shadows of doubt, guilt, and shame into the far corners of her mind. It left only her determination and righteous anger gleaming at the forefront of her consciousness. She wanted to put an end to the attacks and get justice for her brother. Blackstone was the key to both.
“Yes,” Amanda said without hesitation.
He released her hand. The moment of clarity faded, and her darker feelings emerged from their hiding places, but their influence was diminished.
Amanda shook her head and blinked. Had he just used magic on her? While he held her hand, she suspected that she couldn’t have lied to him if she’d tried. If it was some kind of spell, it had somehow soothed her mental anguish at the same time it exposed her true feelings. It was both a balm and a violation. But how did he do it? She saw no jewelry that could carry enchantments, and he hadn’t spoken an incantation. If he was using magic, it worked nothing like the witchcraft she was familiar with.
“What are you?” she asked, realizing how rude the question sounded only after she asked it.
Blackstone smiled. “I am a hunter of evil.” He had answered casually, but his simple declaration was weighted with implication.
For the first time, Amanda thought about what it must be like to be Nathaniel Blackstone. He hunted the most vicious paranormals known to the Order. Although he was part of an elite team, the members often worked independently and in secret, drawing resources from the Order as needed. It was a lonely and dangerous existence, one that required discipline and a level of power Amanda could only guess at.
To him, she must seem like a spoiled amateur. He had seen right through her and given up a good night’s sleep to deal with the little stunt she had planned.
“I apologize for acting so recklessly, Master Blackstone. I’ll try not to make trouble for you in the future.”
Blackstone chuckled as he put his arm across Amanda’s shoulders and directed her back toward the house. “I appreciate your contrition, Hunter Clark, but don’t make promises you can’t keep. Our passions are part of who we are, and they fuel our thoughts and actions. The key is to channel them wisely. They can’t be denied entirely, so if we don’t control them, they’ll control us.”
“More insomniacs,” said a voice from the deep shadows under the trees.”
Blackstone’s arm tensed around Amanda and then relaxed when one of Jonathan’s guards stepped into the light.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you,” the guard said.
Blackstone ignored the apology. “Who else has been having trouble sleeping tonight?”
The guard started to answer, and then he looked at the ground with a confused expression. “I don’t know.”
His answer didn’t make sense. If he didn’t know, then why did he bring it up?
“I think I do,” said Blackstone. “Was it Cara, the young dark haired witch?”
The guard opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Amanda, do you have the means to dispel a charm?” Blackstone asked.
Realizing what he was getting at, Amanda closed her eyes and sighed. Cara didn’t normally need to use her powers to get what she wanted from men, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t willing and able to do so under the right circumstances.
Amanda stepped up to the guard and reached toward him. He ducked away from her hand. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“A charm has been placed on you,” Blackstone answered. “Allow Amanda to remove it.”
Blackstone’s tone made it clear that he was giving an order. The guard snapped to attention and held still.
Amanda easily recalled the short incantation for dispelling residual magic. She gripped one of her pentagram earrings between her thumb and forefinger. The small pentagram was weak protection, but she was removing a weak charm. Placing her hand on the guard’s forehead, she chanted the spell and then snapped her fingers. Cara’s charm unraveled swiftly, causing an unpleasant sensation as it dissipated. To manipulate the guard, Cara had used gray magic for her charm.
Cara’s willingness to draw from the gray was a constant point of contention between her and Noreen. Using the gray was an acquired taste, so to speak: one that Amanda had never developed. One had to walk a moral tightrope to use gray magic, and it took great discipline not to fall off onto the dark side. Cara was not known for her discipline, and she hated being told what she could and could not do.
Blackstone resumed his questioning as soon as the confusion cleared from the guard’s expression. “When did you see her?”
“Uh …” the guard checked his watch. “A little over an hour ago.”
Amanda looked around. All the vehicles she was familiar with were accounted for. “How did she leave?” she asked.
The guard looked down with a sheepish expression. “I loaned her my car.”
Blackstone glanced toward the road and shook his head. “She could be in the next state by now. Or Canada.”
“Maybe she’s better off,” Amanda said. “She said she feels like a target here at the sanctuary, and I can’t blame her. All for a battle that isn’t hers. Getting out of town may not have been such a bad idea.”
Blackstone was unconvinced. “Perhaps. Assuming she left straight away and didn’t do something unwise, like go home first.”
“You think they could be waiting for her?”
“I don’t know, and that’s what bothers me. We have no idea what resources are available to our opposition. We have a patrol checking on everyone’s homes and sweeping the area around the farm, but the mobile team can only be in one place at a time.”
“If she did go home, she might still be there,” Amanda said, turning back toward her car. “We have to talk her into coming back to the farm with us.”
“No,” Blackstone said, grabbing her arm firmly. “You are not leaving the sanctuary. We’ll send the patrol to check on her. They will bring her back if they can convince her to return. If not, she’s on her own.”
Amanda pulled her arm free, annoyed by Blackstone’s c
allous attitude. “We can’t just leave her to the wolves,” she retorted.
Blackstone raised an eyebrow, cluing Amanda in to her inadvertent metaphor. Then he shook his head. “Cara is not sworn into the Order; we can’t force her to do anything. On the contrary, if she refuses sanctuary, we are required to respect her wishes.”
“But it’s for her own safety!” Amanda insisted.
“That argument has been made, and she has given us her answer.” Blackstone placed his hand gently on Amanda’s back, guiding her toward the farmhouse once more. “The only thing we can do now is have the patrol check on her. If they can’t convince her to return, they might be able to convince her to flee the area. Perhaps she already has.”
Amanda stepped away from Blackstone’s touch, but continued toward the house. “What if the dark coven goes after her?”
“I think the odds of that are low. If they don’t already know she has abandoned sanctuary, it will probably be some time before they do. If Cara is smart, she’ll be out of their reach by that time.” He paused, and Amanda glanced over to see a deadly smile on his face. “Besides, I intend to distract them with other matters.”
More than anything, Blackstone’s declaration made Amanda feel better about going along with him for the time being. Cara wasn’t the only one who felt like a target, and Amanda was tired of being constantly on the defensive. She wanted to do something.
Amanda started up the stairs toward her room, although she doubted she’d be able to get back to sleep. She’d been awake for more than an hour and was too wound up. In fact, she was shaking a little from the tension that still hummed along her nerves. She and Cara were hardly close, but they were coven mates, and Amanda would feel terrible if something bad happened to her. Particularly since it would be partly Amanda’s fault.
She’d waited by the radio with Blackstone and the hunter in charge of the night-time guard rotation while the patrol hurried over to Cara’s tiny home. Cara rented a guest house from an elderly couple in the Selle Valley. The location was closer to the Rutlinger Foundation than Hayworth Farm, which didn’t help Amanda’s patience during the wait.
When the patrol arrived, Cara was gone. But it was obvious that she’d been home recently. The car belonging to the hapless guard she’d charmed was parked out front. The front porch light was on, as was the inside hallway light. After knocking, the team discovered that the front door was unlocked, so they entered the house and looked around.
Cara wasn’t much for tidiness, so it was almost impossible to detect the signs of a hasty departure. Closet doors were open and a few clothes were strewn across the unmade bed, but based on Amanda’s few visits to Cara’s place, the same could be said for any day of the week. One good sign was that the patrol failed to find any luggage.
Amanda had almost been ready to accept that Cara had gone into hiding. The unlocked front door was bothersome, particularly since Cara was leaving for an unknown period of time. However, lots of people in remote areas didn’t bother to lock their doors, and Cara may have simply forgotten to do so out of habit. But then the patrol had reported that Cara’s SUV was parked in the carport next to the house.
Had Cara left with a friend? She might have talked someone into going on a sudden road trip with her. Getting a call from Cara in the middle of the night wouldn’t be a surprise to someone who knew her well. Any male friend would probably have jumped at the opportunity to spend time alone with her, regardless of the hour.
With no trail to follow, they couldn’t do much more unless Cara contacted the farm to let everyone know where she was. In the meantime, Amanda couldn’t help but wonder and worry.
As Amanda reached the top landing of the stairwell, the door to her bedroom opened. Kyle emerged with tousled hair, tightening his robe belt. When he saw that she was fully dressed, he froze for a second and then stepped forward. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Amanda shushed him and went to her bedroom door. She held it open and waved him inside. When they were both in the room, she shut the door and spoke in a quiet voice so as not to disturb the rest of the household.
“Cara took off. She charmed one of the guards and borrowed his car.” She went on to describe how the patrol had gone to her home and found it empty. “It looks like she may have taken off with a friend, but we can’t be sure.”
“We should have seen this coming,” Kyle said, rubbing his eyes with his palms. “She looked really upset after she found out about the dead guard and how the wards had failed.”
“I know. I should have talked to her.” She hung her head. “This is my fault.”
“I wish you’d stop saying that. You haven’t done anything wrong. You aren’t in charge of security, and you aren’t Cara’s keeper.”
“I know, but none of this would have happened if my exorcism hadn’t started a war with the Foundation.”
Kyle stared at her, his jaw clenching and the skin around his eyes tightening. “Then the solution is simple,” he said in an annoyed tone. “We go back in time and you choose not to do the exorcism. You won’t anger the Pack and I’ll be dead.”
“You know that’s not what I want,” Amanda retorted, a flash of anger heating her words.
“I’m not so sure anymore. All this self-flagellation is almost insulting. Your exorcism may have had unintended consequences, but it saved my life. The Order is backing you up right now because they believe you did the right thing. You have to start treating the rest of us like partners instead of victims. We’re all in this together, and everyone knows it’s going to be dangerous.”
Amanda sat heavily on the bed. Kyle was right, but she couldn’t just ignore the fact that she had started all this. “I don’t want people to think I’m refusing to admit that I’m responsible.”
“I think everyone gets that,” Kyle said, sitting next to her and putting his arm around her. “We have a pretty high-powered team, and it’s even stronger if we stay focused and work together.”
Kyle released her and leaned away. His sudden silence and movement made her look over to find him staring at her.
“You were going to leave,” he said, his voice reflecting shock and disappointment.
“What?” Amanda stalled for time to think while she pretended to be surprised by his accusation.
“After everything we’ve been through together,” Kyle went on, “you were going to leave me behind?”
Amanda reached for his hand, but he pulled away and stood up, waiting for her explanation. She owed him an honest answer. “I thought I could convince Dr. Rutlinger that I was the only person who knew anything about the ceremony. That they could leave everyone else out of it.”
Kyle folded his arms and stood silently for a moment. “What changed your mind?”
“Blackstone. He was waiting for me.”
“Well, hooray for Mr. Perceptive,” Kyle said as he started to get dressed.
“Where are you going?” Amanda asked. “It’s three-thirty AM.”
“Everyone else seems to be awake, and I’m too pissed off now to sleep.”
“Okay,” Amanda said, patting the bed next to her. “Let’s talk about it.”
“We’ll talk later. After we’ve both had some time to cool down and think about what we really want.”
Amanda didn’t want Kyle to leave angry, but his mood was rubbing off on her. Some time alone sounded like a good idea, so she didn’t try to stop him. He left and closed the door behind him without looking at her again.
In the silence of her bedroom, Amanda went over the conversations she’d had with Blackstone and Kyle. Blackstone had convinced her that sacrificing herself wouldn’t help the rest of them. Kyle was right when he pointed out that their team was stronger if they worked together. She’d thought her plan was a noble act of sacrifice. Was it really a petulant act of self-absorption? She hissed aloud, irritated by her self-doubt.
Kyle said she needed to figure out what she really wanted. Her private mission had always been about Reg
gie. It was still about Reggie. If she had gone through with her plan to surrender, she probably would have failed her brother as well as everyone else. Her cheeks heated with shame when she realized how close she’d come to giving up on herself and her friends.
Chapter 15
Catch of the Day
Marcella waited while Cyrus unlocked the heavy metal-clad door. It swung open silently on well-oiled hinges, and she stepped into the chilly eight-by-eight room beyond. The basement storage room had originally been designed to function as a walk-in cooler, but according to Rutlinger, it had never been put into service.
Lucky her. It certainly made for an excellent prison cell.
The lone occupant had wiggled herself around so she could lean against the back wall. She huddled on the floor with her bound legs folded against her chest. Her hands were secured at the wrists, keeping her arms at her back. The captive wore black jeans and a matching jean jacket over a violet sweater. Her feet were clad in lightweight hiking shoes. A sack-like hood of dark- blue fabric covered the girl’s head, held in place by a strip of leather around her neck. While Marcella observed, the young woman’s only movement was an involuntary shiver.
Marcella motioned toward the prisoner, and Cyrus stepped forward to remove the hood. Lovely dark hair fell onto the girl’s shoulders while static caused a few strands to float around her face. Her eyes darted around the room before settling on her abductors. Her ice-blue eyes reflected both fear and anger as she unfolded herself and slowly stood. She wobbled unsteadily from the zip-tie that held her ankles together and compromised her balance.
“Hello, Cara. I’m Marcella, and this is Cyrus.”
Cara’s gag prevented her from speaking, but her eyes revealed her wariness.
“Yes,” Marcella continued, “I know your name. I also know you’re an air crafter. If you agree not to try using your powers, I will remove your gag. The effort would be wasted anyway. Cyrus and I are quite well protected.”
Marcella waited for Cara to respond. After a moment of staring, the girl nodded. Marcella waved Cyrus forward, and he removed Cara’s gag.
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