Circle of Fire (9 page)

Maybe she should get another room. Being confined with this man for any length of time was not a good idea.
Especially if he keeps wearing those damn jeans
.

She ran the spoon around the edge of the container, collecting the last of the yogurt. The small candle flickered and danced, and the smell of incense wafted toward her. She put the empty container on the table and sniffed the fragrance.

The pit of her stomach suddenly fell. Citrus smoke—the same sweet smell that had been in Evan’s room.

Darkness swept around her. She gripped the edge of the table fiercely, fighting the desire to follow wherever the dream might lead.
Please, don’t let this happen to me now
. Why couldn’t it hit when she was alone? As much as she wanted to find Evan, she didn’t want Jon to see her trapped in a vision.

“Maddie? Are you okay?”

No, I’m not! Can’t you see that? I’ve never been all right
. But she couldn’t speak as the darkness encased her, sweeping her along for the ride …

Smoke coiled around the cabin, a dark plume that filled the twilight with the rich scent of citrus. In the far corner lay Evan and the other teenager, the mounds of their bodies almost lost among the heavy blankets covering them.

But her dream was not here for them this time. It swirled away, centering on the opposite side of the cabin. Two figures were silhouetted against the dancing light of a bright fire. Though she could see no
features or clothing, it was obvious from their size and shape that one was male, the other female.

“Maddie.”

The soft voice broke through the dream. For an instant, the vision wavered, shimmering like a pond whose shiny surface is disturbed by a stone.

“Maddie, tell me what you see.”

Jon’s hand slid over hers, warm and strong. Maddie wished she could let go of the table and hold his hand, hold him, but the dream held her in its grip. She couldn’t move.

“What do you see?” he repeated softly.

“Evan.” She licked her lips. For the first time in her life she forced herself to concentrate on her vision. Despite the fire, the cabin was cold. The breath of the two figures condensed as they spoke, hanging in the air like smoke. Beyond the cabin confines, the wind howled, rattling windows she couldn’t see.

“Tell me what else you see.”

“It feels like snow.” Chill fingers of air crept around her, and she shivered.

“Do you see any people?”

“Two. One male, one female.” The woman had long hair that she brushed away with a cat’s paw. “She has claws. Cat’s claws.”

“Are they talking? Can you hear what they’re saying?”

“Only the woman speaks.” And though her voice was soft, its mellow sound stung Maddie’s ears, as grating as fingernails across a blackboard.

“What is she saying?”

“I don’t know.”

“Listen harder. Concentrate on the sound of her voice.”

Jon squeezed her hand, running warmth through her body. She licked her lips, trying to do as he asked. Like a radio suddenly tuned, the woman’s voice leaped into focus, and she told Jon, “She plans an attack. Tonight.”

“Who does she plan to attack?”

“I don’t know—” She hesitated.

The woman turned. There was malice on her face, malice in the air, so thick Maddie suddenly struggled to breathe. Jon called her name urgently, but he sounded so very far away. She stared at the woman with the vibrant green eyes until they all but filled her vision, became a turbulent ocean awash with venom.

“You are mine,” the woman spat. “Mine.”

Maddie screamed, and the dream disintegrated into darkness.

“M
ADDIE, COME BACK TO ME.
”

She didn’t respond, didn’t move. She breathed in rapid gasps that shuddered through her body, and sweat trickled down her cheeks. Jon thumbed the droplets away. Her skin was cold despite the room’s heat.

He frowned and glanced at the fireplace. Flames flickered, slowly catching the small logs she must have placed there earlier. But the temperature in the room seemed to have jumped 10 degrees in the last few minutes, and the fire certainly couldn’t account for it. Was it his imagination, or something else?

She suddenly pushed his hand away, her eyes wide
and unfocused like those of a dreamer fighting a dream. Her fear smothered him, making it difficult to breathe, to concentrate. He wondered why he was so open to her when he’d spent most of his life perfecting the art of blocking other people’s emotions—and his own.

She pushed her fingers through her hair, her hands shaking. He sat back on his heels, watching her carefully. Something had frightened her enough to rip her from the vision, but she was not yet aware of him or their surroundings. Her mind was still caught in the backwash of the trance.

Which meant her gift was raw. Few trained clairvoyants were unable to pull out of a vision cleanly. He wondered how strong her gift was, how true. And how long she’d gone without seeking help. He suddenly wished he could call his mother. She was a strong clairvoyant and would know how to handle this situation.

“Maddie,” he said softly.

The amber fire in her eyes began to burn more brightly as her awareness returned. She blinked rapidly, then took a deep, shuddering breath. The blanket of fear intensified.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She pushed the chair backward and scrambled to her feet, every movement frantic, as if desperate to escape.

He reached out to caress her hand, but she jerked her fingers away from his touch. He frowned and rubbed his fingertips together. Now her skin was burning hot. What the hell was going on?

She stopped in front of the fire, her back to him, her stance withdrawn. She looked isolated and very
frightened. The firelight ran through her hair, making it burn a vibrant, molten gold. Such a pretty color, he thought, and so at odds with the darkness that seemed to haunt her.

He had no real experience in dealing with untrained talents, and no real time to help her. Not with only five days to find the missing kids. But any information, however minor, might provide the breakthrough he needed. She’d definitely seen something in that dream, and that something just might make his task of rescuing the kids easier.

He sat astride the chair. Though she made no sound, her shoulders tensed. She was ready for a blow, whether a verbal or a physical one. Anger uncoiled in his belly, and for an instant, he was very glad he’d only just met her. Otherwise, he might have been tempted to seek out the fool who’d hurt her so much.

He leaned his forearms against the wooden backrest and fully opened the gate to his empathic abilities. He needed her to talk to him, and he had a feeling it would require all his resources. One wrong word and she’d retreat farther—mentally if not physically.

“Your gift is nothing unusual, Maddie,” he said softly.

She laughed—a harsh sound that made him wince. “What do you know about it? Have you ever suffered these dreams, or the endless taunts of your friends?”

He held back a bitter smile. In the ten years he’d worked for the Damask Circle, he’d seen and suffered more than she could imagine. “Clairvoyance is not so bad once you learn to control it.”

Her fingers clenched by her side. “But I
can’t
control it. I can’t control any of it.”

He had an odd feeling she wasn’t talking about clairvoyance when she spoke of control. Did she have another gift she couldn’t contain? “Didn’t anyone try to teach you? Your mother, perhaps?”

Again she laughed bitterly. “No.”

That one word spoke volumes. Obviously, she’d been left on her own to cope with her gift. Why? Abilities like this usually ran through generations, so surely there had been someone to guide her.

“Did your parents even know you were gifted?”

“They thought I was deranged.” Though her voice was bitter, her confusion washed over him, along with a hint of guilt.

He wondered why. “Did they seek outside help, then?”

“Only in the form of psychiatrists.” She snorted softly. “I lived in a small town, Jon, with small-town fears. I was an oddity, a freak. My parents tried very hard to make me appear normal, but people
knew
.”

The horror of her childhood was evident in the dark swirl through her aura. He silently cursed the fools who had brought her up to fear, even loathe, her gift.

“Then tell me about your gifts.” It was evident from the way she stood that he wouldn’t get much more about her past until she trusted him more.

“There’s nothing to tell. I’m just a freak.”

If she was a freak, then what was he? What would she say if she ever saw him change? Not that she ever would. That was one secret he shared with the very few people whom he trusted completely. “Maddie,
you have a gift that can be valuable if you want to save your nephew. It doesn’t make you a freak.”

Only the attitude of uncaring people could do that. And someone in her past, someone other than her parents, had obviously torn her to shreds over her gift. He sensed that much.

He flexed the tension from his fingers and glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten o’clock. Time was running out. If he didn’t get moving soon, another day would be wasted. “Tell me about the people you saw.”

Her shoulders tensed again. “I told you what I saw. It doesn’t make sense.”

To her, it wouldn’t. She didn’t know the woman was a shapeshifter, and he had no intention of telling her. It would only lead to questions he didn’t want to answer. “The clairvoyant image isn’t always clear, especially if you haven’t been trained. Sometimes you have to interpret it.”

Finally, she turned around and looked at him, and he was pleased to see the fear in her eyes had retreated slightly.

“How do you know so much about clairvoyants?”

He smiled. “My mother and three of my sisters are clairvoyants.”

She raised a pale eyebrow, the ghost of a smile touching her lips. “Three of your sisters? Just how many do you have?”

“Five sisters and two brothers. You?”

The warm light in her eyes faded, to be replaced by ice. “A sister,” she muttered, looking away. “My brother died when I was young.”

And Maddie felt guilty about it. He wanted to ask
why, but knew he’d pushed enough for one day. “Tell me about the cabin you saw.”

She shivered and rubbed her arms. “It was an old log cabin. I could see the gaps between the logs, so it wasn’t insulated or anything.”

“There are probably dozens of cabins fitting that description, but at least it gives me somewhere to start.”

She frowned at him. “Gives
us
somewhere to start, you mean.”

He really did admire her determination, even if it also annoyed him. “I don’t intend to argue about this—”

“Good, because I’m going.”

Jon swore softly but knew he couldn’t afford to say any more—at least not here at the inn where his voice might be heard.

The heat in the room was quickly abating. Maddie pushed warm strands of hair from her eyes, then crossed her arms. It was more a defensive action than an attempt to stave off the rising chill in the air. The fire, he noted, definitely wasn’t the source of the earlier warmth.

“How are you going to get out of the inn without being seen?” she asked.

“Same way I got in—via a window.”

He rolled his shoulder. It still ached—and probably would for days yet—but he had the full range of movement back. And that meant a brief flight to the heavily treed park just down the road from the shops shouldn’t cause too many problems. Replacing his missing clothes had to be his first priority. He might not feel the cold that much, but walking around in
short sleeves would only draw unwanted attention—and that was something he certainly didn’t need right now. Then he’d go retrieve his truck—which had, no doubt, been towed away from the three-hour parking zone where he’d left it. With a bit of luck, the weapons he’d stashed in the specially built compartment would still be there.

She raised an eyebrow. “And where will I meet you?”

He scratched his head but knew there was no getting rid of her. Not this time. “There’s a small café called Emerson’s near the bridge.” He’d heard it mentioned the night he disappeared. There was an odd chance he still might find a clue there. Besides, he was still hungry, even after eating the breakfast she’d ordered. “Get us a table, and I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

She nodded and grabbed her old coat off the nearby sofa as she walked toward the door. Then she stopped and turned around, her amber eyes searching his. “You won’t leave me sitting there, will you?”

“No,” he said, and wondered who had.

She hesitated, her gaze still searching his. After a moment, she gave a small nod and continued on toward the door. He wondered what she’d seen in his eyes that made her trust him when she obviously trusted so very few.

He listened to the sound of her steps fading down the hall, then tugged his father’s ring from his finger once again and walked into the bathroom. He wished he could take it with him, but it was made of silver and wouldn’t change. In fact, silver in general could be dangerous to shifters, but he’d been wearing the
ring for so long he’d developed some immunity to it. He placed it back behind the vent, then slid open the window. The wind whistled in, but he ignored its chill touch and leaned out. No one was near.
Good
.

He reached down, deep within his soul, and called to the wildness. It came in a rush of power that filled his vision with gold and dulled his senses as it shaped and changed his body. Then the freedom of the sky was his, and he leaped toward it on golden-brown wings.