Circle of Fire (31 page)

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Authors: Keri Arthur

BOOK: Circle of Fire
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Fifteen minutes later, he leaned against the twisted wreck of an old pine and struggled to see past the sweat stinging his eyes.

Maddie was a mere fifty feet away, but it might as well have been a thousand. She lay on the ground, arms outstretched. He couldn’t see if she was tied. Couldn’t see if she was awake or hurt. In fact, he could barely see her at all through the ring of pale flame that surrounded her.

Trying to ignore the painful twist in his gut, he let his gaze travel around the clearing. There was no sign of Eleanor, but she had to be close. The taint of magic hung so heavily in the air that it was making him sick.

Or was that fear?

His gaze was drawn back to Maddie. Had she moved? Did she know he was near?

He pushed away from the tree and wiped the sweat from his eyes. An almost expectant hush hung over the clearing. Beyond the strangely colored flames, there was nothing that might indicate what sort of trap was waiting. He smiled grimly, his gaze drawn back to the trees on the opposite side of the clearing. Eleanor was there somewhere, waiting and watching.

Why make her wait any longer than necessary? The only way to discover what she planned was to walk straight into her trap—and hope Seline hadn’t underestimated the amulet’s power.

He dropped Maddie’s pack near the base of the tree, then limped into the clearing. A shiver of anticipation seemed to run through the air. He listened for any sound that might indicate an attack but kept his gaze on the figure lying in the center of the flames. Still no movement, no sound from Maddie.

He stopped three feet away from the flames. A tingle ran from the ground and up his body, and the
amulet sprang to life, burning fiercely against his throat. He glanced down. He’d stepped into some sort of star drawn into the ground.
Magic
. But what had Eleanor intended it to do?

Laughter, high and unstable, shattered the silence. Eleanor stepped out of the trees, a predatory smile dominating her thin features.

“I thought you’d be a tougher catch, shapeshifter.” She brushed a long strand of hair away from her face with a hand that wavered between burned and un-burned flesh.

He frowned. The burned hand was obviously Maddie’s work, but why was the witch wasting energy to cover it up? Vanity, perhaps? “Maybe you’ve overestimated me.”

Eleanor’s dark eyes were watchful despite her triumphant air. “Oh, I doubt that very much.” She hesitated, her face surreal in the odd light of the pale orange flames. “Perhaps you’d best rid yourself of those white-ash daggers you have in your boots.”

Electricity raced up his legs from the ground, swirling around his body like a cord, yet never really touching him. He sensed it was somehow meant to make him obey. That he didn’t surely had to indicate that the amulet burning against his throat was working. He bent and slowly took out the two daggers from his boots, then tossed them to one side. For the moment, at least, it was better to let Eleanor think she had him in her power. He left the smaller dagger hidden in his coat. Eleanor didn’t mention it, so maybe she couldn’t sense it through the leather.

“Let Maddie go, Eleanor. She’s of no use to you.”

Eleanor grinned. “I can’t set her free, shapeshifter, but you can.”

He raised his eyebrows, feigning unconcern despite the churning in his gut. “How, when you have me pinned to this spot?”

Eleanor’s smile widened, which meant his guess was right. The star was meant to do nothing more than temporarily immobilize him.

“There’s no fun in defeating an enemy who cannot move. You will be free soon enough.”

Eleanor was too calm and Maddie too still. Sweat trickled down his back. The whole situation seemed way beyond his control. “Then what will stop me from ripping out your heart, witch?”

“Oh, you can try, but the price will be your lover’s death.”

His gaze ran back to Maddie. Despite the chill in the air, her slender body was flushed with heat. It burned across her skin, beacon bright against the cold flames surrounding her. Sweat beaded her forehead and darkened her burnished hair. Even her T-shirt clung damply to her skin. The pale flames surrounding her held no warmth, so why was she so hot?

He met Eleanor’s gaze and saw the uneasy mix of amusement and cruelty in the dark depths of her eyes. The witch wanted them all to pay—him for his interference, Maddie for burning her hand … Then his heart gave a sickening lurch. Maddie was a fire-starter. The heat was
internal
.

He flexed his fingers. “Let her go, Eleanor, and I am yours.”

Her responding smile was little more than a sharp snarl. Her form was blurring, shifting shape, becoming
something less than human—but not quite catlike. “She has five minutes, shapeshifter.” Her voice was a purr, deep and menacing. “But to rescue her, you must defy my spell and then defeat me.”

Blood trickled down his leg; its sweet smell seemed to hang heavily in the air. The craving in Eleanor’s inhuman gaze grew stronger.

“What spell?” he asked, watching her form shiver and darken, becoming more catlike with every passing heartbeat.

“The flames, shapeshifter. They will devour the very essence of your soul.” Her sharp smile was little more than the snarl of a panther. “They will take your shapeshifting abilities from you.”

“No …” The denial escaped before he could stop it. He was a
shapeshifter
. It was an integral part of
what he was
. It couldn’t be ripped away without killing him.

“It won’t destroy you, shapeshifter.” Her voice had become little more than a rough growl, her shape a breath away from the panther. She was retaining only enough humanity to speak. “That would be too easy. You must pay for the trouble you have caused me. Pay with pain.”

Her paws hit the ground, and with another snarl, she sprang. Not away from the flames, but into them—straight at Maddie.

“No!” He leaped forward, hitting the flames. Pain ripped through his body and tore a scream from his throat. For a frightening heartbeat there was nothing but emptiness; then he hit the ground and darkness claimed him.

M
ADDIE JERKED AWAKE
. F
OR SEVERAL SECONDS SHE STARED
at the mist-shrouded trees high above her and wondered where she was. She felt the damp ground pressing into her back, the caress of the cool breeze against her heat-fevered skin, and it only added to her confusion.

Then memory returned with a thump. She was burning up, killing herself because Eleanor had somehow looped her fire-starting abilities. And because she didn’t understand how to fully control them, she couldn’t stop the fires raging deep inside from consuming her.

If she attacked Eleanor, she’d kill herself instead.

Something black flew over her head. White teeth flashed a second before a snarl cut through the silence. The ragged sound of a gasp cut through the air—
Jon
. She didn’t question her sudden certainty. He was here and in trouble because of her.

I have to help him. Somehow, I have to stop Eleanor
. But her body refused to obey her. Despite the heat flushing every pore, her limbs were locked in ice. She couldn’t move; she was barely able to breathe. The panther snarled again. A heartbeat later there
was a guttural sound of pain.
Dear God, what’s happening to him?

She struggled to shift her head. Sweat ran down her forehead and stung her eyes. She blinked the moisture away and gritted her teeth. Her breath became a hiss of pain as the ice tightened around her neck.

I have to move
 … But how? Her one weapon had been leashed and the icy noose around her neck tightened every time she shifted. Damn it, there
had
to be some way to free herself! Fire surged in response to her desperation, burning through her veins, the sheer force of it making her feel as though she was beginning to melt from the inside out. Maddie bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.
Attack me, and you will kill yourself
, Eleanor had told her. Was that the key?
Not
attacking Eleanor? What if she turned her fires on something else
instead
of the witch? What if she turned it
in?
Attacked herself—and the things that bound her—first? She had nothing to lose by trying. Nothing but her life—and Eleanor intended to take that either way.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sounds of fighting as she imagined the flames surging through her body and dancing around her neck. Imagined them attacking the icy noose, melting it, cracking it. Heat surged up to her throat, and the sweat dripping from her forehead became a river. But the ice splintered, just as she’d imagined, and suddenly her head and arms were free.

She twisted around, trying to see what was going on. Jon and Eleanor were silhouetted against the brightness of the flames. Jon was on his back, struggling to hold the panther standing astride his prone
body at arm’s length. Blood soaked his jeans, and a bloody rent marred his left side. The panther was unharmed, toying with its prey.

She clenched her hands against the instinct to attack Eleanor with her fire and quickly scanned the trees above. After a moment, she spotted a branch that hung far enough over the clearing. Half closing her eyes, she stared at the limb and reached down to the fires boiling through her body, imagining them looping through her flesh, then spinning out into the darkness toward that branch. The response was quick and deadly. The branch exploded into flame and, with a crack that ricocheted through the clearing, fell to the ground. The cat snarled in fright and leapt away from Jon. He scrambled awkwardly to his feet but didn’t flee.

“Maddie, run!” he gasped. He stood between her and the panther, a bloodied warrior still ready for battle.

She could barely move, let alone run. And even if she were able to, she wouldn’t have. He was ready to die defending her. She had nothing left to offer him but the same willingness to trade her life for his.

She glanced quickly at the trees and found another branch. The panther leaped again. Maddie looped her fire through her body, then aimed it at another branch, simultaneously croaking, “Jon, jump back!”

He heard and obeyed. The branch landed in a heap at his feet, trailing flaming leaves like confetti. The smell of burning pine was sharp in the air. The panther twisted away awkwardly and landed to one side of the stump. Its form shivered and darkened, then became Eleanor once more.

“My bait is awake, I see.” Eleanor’s voice was still a seductive drawl, despite the wisp of age beginning to take its toll on her features.

Maddie met her dark gaze and felt as if she were falling deep into its malevolent depths. It surrounded her, sapping her strength, her will. Eleanor was the essence of evil—a woman who had feasted on the blood of innocents down through the ages simply to preserve her looks and her life. They were fools to think they could ever beat her.

Once again, Jon moved until he stood between them and Maddie blinked, feeling like a sleeper coming out of a dream. Fear surged anew. Just for an instant, she’d been drawn into Eleanor’s mind and had glimpsed the dark depths of her soul. It might well have been hell’s playground.

“Let her go, Eleanor.”

Jon’s voice was flat, devoid of any sort of emotion, yet Maddie could see his fear as sharply as she could taste her own. It was evident in the tightening of his shoulders, in the play of muscles across his back. But he was frightened for
her
, not for himself.

Eleanor smiled. “I know, I know. She means nothing to you.”

Jon didn’t reply. His fingers flexed and Maddie suddenly wondered why he didn’t change into a hawk. His attack on Hank had shown how deadly his other shape could be. Why didn’t he use it now that Eleanor was back in human guise?

“I’m afraid you’re missing the point, my boy. I don’t want you dead. I want you suffering,
then
dead.”

Jon’s back blocked most of Eleanor from Maddie’s sight, but her evil reached out nevertheless, swirling
ice around her. The cord whipped back around her throat, pulling tight. Pain eddied and hovered close, and darkness was suddenly only a heartbeat away.

“I’ve already taken your soul,” Eleanor continued, her voice venomous. “Next I’ll take your heart, and then finally your life.”

I’ve taken your soul …
Was it only last night that Jon had said his soul was a hawk? Was that why he didn’t shift shape? But how could Eleanor rip such a vital part of his being away from him?

The thought fled as the ice around her neck pulled tighter. Stars danced before her eyes, and every breath suddenly became a battle for survival.

“Do your worst, witch.”

His voice seemed to come from a million miles away, yet it contained a hint of callousness that shook her. Energy ripped through the air, as hot as the fires in her soul. She licked cracked lips and tried to concentrate on his back. His muscles flexed beneath his jacket as he crossed his arms and waited. Why didn’t he
do
something? Couldn’t he sense the energy building up around them?

Eleanor’s laughter clawed at the air. Flames burst to life around him, bright and surreal. He didn’t move, didn’t fight. All too quickly he was lost to the consuming hunger of the fire.

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