Circle of Fire (14 page)

Jon could take his turn on the sofa tonight—if he even bothered coming back to the room, that was.

“I don’t suppose you’d like company?”

She glanced down sharply at Hank. He smiled blandly back.

“I meant to the door, of course.”

“Of course,” she muttered. “But I’ll be fine, thanks.”

He nodded. “See you tomorrow, Miss Smith.” He gave her a smile that held more than a hint of malice, then added, “Maybe.”

A chill ran down her spine. Perhaps going up to the
room alone wasn’t such a good idea. She glanced back at Jon and found his gaze meeting hers. But there was no comfort to be found in the blue of his eyes. He was doing his job, and she was only getting in the way. His expression said as much.

She licked her lips and turned away. Hank’s gaze burned a hole into her back as she walked quickly from the room.

“W
HAT ABOUT THAT NIGHTCAP, THEN
?” E
LEANOR ARCHED
an eyebrow at Jon and walked her fingers down his chest.

Jon stopped her hand when it reached his stomach. “You choose. You know the town better than I do.”

“There’s a lovely little bar a couple of blocks away, on Fourth. Hi Tides, it’s called. And the best thing is, it’s only a five-minute walk from my place.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like an invitation.”

“Play your cards right, and it just might be,” she purred and lightly kissed his ear.

He resisted the temptation to move away from her touch and glanced down the table at Hank. The man was looking far too smug for Jon’s liking. Eleanor’s tongue whisked across his ear. This time he did pull away, smiling when she pouted.

“What about the boyfriend?”

Eleanor raised finely sculptured eyebrows. “What boyfriend?”

Jon nodded toward Hank. “Aren’t you two an item?”

Eleanor’s smile was pure seduction. “Sometimes we are. Sometimes we aren’t.”

Hank appeared to be ignoring them, yet Jon sensed the man knew every move he and Eleanor made. There was some sort of link between them, a tenuous thread of magic that tingled across his skin like electricity. It worried him, and yet at the same time, it told him he was right in suspecting these two.

“So he won’t object to us going out?”

Her smile gained a hint of malice. “Oh, he may object, but I don’t really care.”

Her heart is as cold as her touch is warm
, he thought. She looked briefly at Hank, her expression disdainful. At that moment, the electricity surged, a brief but potent charge that made the hair on Jon’s arms stand on end.

Hank rose immediately, bumping into the woman on his left and spilling her wine. He muttered an apology, then quickly walked from the room. The bell chimed as he left the inn.

Tension surged through Jon. He flexed his shoulders, trying to relax. Something had just happened between Eleanor and Hank, and until he found out what, he knew he’d better be more careful.

Eleanor turned, facing him. His gaze was drawn to her ample cleavage. The woman was built, he had to give her that.

“So, what time should we meet?” she continued softly.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearly nine now. The sooner he got this over with, the better. But he wanted to check on Maddie first and make sure she
was okay. She’d been pretty upset when she’d left the table.

“I’m good any time. You’re the one with the meeting, so why don’t you decide?”

“This is going to be the shortest business meeting in history. I can’t believe my lawyer chose such an ungodly hour.” She ran a nail down his cheek. Though her touch was feather-light, it would take only the slightest bit of pressure to slice his skin. Her nails were as sharp as a cat’s. “How does ten sound?”

“Suits me.” He caught her hand, raising it to his lips.

Amusement spun through her eyes. “Such a gentleman.”

He smiled. “Only when the room is full of people.”

“Good,” she purred, and rose. “Because I like a man with a bit of fight in him.”

Most cats did. It seemed to be part of their makeup. He picked up his wine and watched her walk away. He’d better be damn careful tonight, he thought, or he’d find himself as dessert in more ways than one.

M
ADDIE BOLTED THE SUITE DOOR BUT STILL DIDN
’
T FEEL
safer. Hank’s warning seemed to echo through the silence and set her teeth on edge. After turning on every light, she checked the bedroom and bathroom for intruders. There was nothing unusual to be found, yet her stomach turned uneasily. Something felt wrong, and it wasn’t just her nerves—or her imagination.

She bit her lip and rubbed her arms. The room was
cold, despite the fire. She threw more logs on and stirred the coals. Flames leaped, fierce and bright.

Despite the light, the shadows in the far corners of the room seemed to loom threateningly. She shivered and held her hands out to the flames, trying to warm them. The encounter with Hank must have unnerved her more than she’d realized. She was getting jumpy over shadows, for Christ’s sake!

A floorboard creaked behind her. She whirled, her heart leaping into her throat. Something whisked through the light, a gossamer veil that held no shape.

She swallowed heavily. Fog. It had to be fog. The idiot repairman must have left the bathroom window open this morning, even though she hadn’t noticed it when she checked earlier.

Another sheer form spun across the room. She closed her eyes. It was her imagination, nothing more. Ghosts
did not
exist.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. A phantom floated two feet away from her, staring at her with eyes that held no life.

Maddie tried to scream, but no sound came out. The creature laughed softly. It was a sound that chilled her soul.

“Flee,” it whispered hoarsely. “Flee, or die.”

She tried to back away from the wraith, but her feet felt locked in place. Something lashed across her shoulders. She yelped in pain and spun around. The mocking sound of laughter ran across the room. She touched her shoulder, and her fingers came away sticky. Real or not, these creatures
could
harm her.

More wraiths skimmed through the room. Her back hit a wall and sweat broke across her brow. She
licked her lips and closed her eyes again, praying for strength. The pressure was beginning to build deep within her, pressure she feared and could not control.

Oh God, it’s happening again
.

She clenched her hands, digging her nails into her palms. The pain only intensified the burning deep within.

“Please, just leave me alone,” she whispered. “I don’t want to kill anyone else.”

The wraiths danced and mocked her, paying her words no heed. Something flicked across her face, stinging. She jerked her head away and felt warmth seep down her cheek.

The heat in the room spiked. A log exploded in the hearth and sparks flew through the room.

The wraiths laughed.

Maddie screamed as the burning broke loose.

J
ON HAD ALREADY RISEN FROM THE TABLE WHEN A SCREAM
split the silence.
Maddie
. In trouble
and
afraid, if the sudden leap of fear across his senses was anything to go by.

He broke into a run, but the other guests had risen at her scream, getting in his way, slowing him down. He pushed past them roughly, ignoring their indignant mutterings as he took the stairs two at a time.

The suite was locked, and his key wouldn’t open the door. Jon swore softly. She must have bolted it.

“Maddie!” he yelled, pounding his fist against the door. “Open up.”

She didn’t answer. Either she couldn’t hear him or couldn’t get to the door. He thumped the door again, then realized the wood was hot to the touch. Burning hot.

Hell!
“Maddie!” He stepped back and kicked the lock. The door shuddered under the force of the blow. He kicked it again. The wood near the lock cracked.

“Need help?” a voice said to his left.

Jon barely glanced the man’s way. “Get everyone out of here,” he said tightly. “There’s a fire in the room.”

The man nodded and began ushering the other guests—who’d followed him out of the dining room—back down the stairs.

Jon stepped to the side of the door and grabbed a nearby planter. He glanced toward the stairs to ensure no one was near, then heaved the heavy planter at the lock. The door exploded inward, crashing back against the wall.

Heat rushed out at him, not flame. He threw up his arm to protect his face and stepped into the room.

The thick, acrid smell of magic swirled around him. A log had rolled free from the hearth and flames danced across the carpet, reaching fiery fingers toward the sofa.

He quickly kicked the log back into the fireplace, then stamped out the flames scorching the carpet. Why was the room so hot? Certainly the small blaze would not have caused such heat …

A small sound jerked him around. Maddie sat in one corner, hugging her knees and slowly rocking back and forth.

He could see her terror in the way she huddled, smell it in the confusing swirl of her aura. Yet oddly enough, he sensed it wasn’t entirely fear of the dark magic that was thick and strong in the room. She was afraid of something else, something he couldn’t name.

He frowned and knelt down beside her. “Are you all right?”

A cut marred her cheek. The wound was thin but deep—like the mark left by the lash of a whip. Something
had
attacked her. The lingering dark magic had to have been involved.

But where were Hank and Eleanor? They had been gone only a few minutes before Maddie had screamed. The spell, no matter what it was, would have taken longer than that to set up. Magic wasn’t something you could rush into. It had strict rules that had to be followed, or it could lash back at the sender.

But the why and how weren’t really important right now.

She gave no sign that she’d heard him, no indication she knew he was there. He touched her shoulder gently, but almost instantly jerked his hand away.

She burned almost as hot as the room. And the fire wasn’t the cause of the heat, he realized.
She
was. The other talent he’d sensed in her, the one she couldn’t control, was pyrokinesis. The ability to light fire with just a thought.

“Maddie!” He grabbed her shoulder again. Heat burned into his palm as he shook her. He ignored it. He had to get her out of here. The foul taste of magic was still thick in the room and might be dangerous. “Are you listening to me? You have to get out of here.”

“I know,” she whispered without looking up.

He frowned when she didn’t move. “Are you hurt?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No. But if I move, I might lose control.”

Just how strong were her abilities if the heat in this room was under control? “Well, you can’t stay here, either.”

He leaned forward and picked her up. It was like a furnace close to his chest. She tensed in his arms, and her gaze jerked up to
his. Her eyes were wild and unfocused, full of heat. “I don’t want you to get burned.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Just don’t let the power go.” If she did, they could all die.

She nodded and looked away, so he turned and headed for the door. Heat washed around him, thick and cloying. Sweat began to run down his forehead. He ignored the slick wetness running down his chest and arms as he held her close.

“Control it,” he whispered, and made for the stairs.

From the little he knew of pyrokinesis, he had to get her somewhere cold and quiet until her power was under control. That meant outside, in the rain.

There was a small seat under the old pine out in the front yard. He gently placed her on it, then knelt on the wet grass in front of her. Though he wanted to keep her in his arms, he sensed that touching her any more than necessary was the worst thing he could do right now.

“Imagine the heat as a wall, Maddie.” He sat back on his heels and watched her carefully.

Her gaze jerked up to his. Confusion ran through her eyes before her gaze skipped away.

“Why?” Her soft voice was hoarse, apprehensive.

“Because you have to contain it, or it will consume us all.”

She blinked, and he saw the gleam of tears in her expressive eyes. So the fires had already claimed a life. Had it been someone close?

Her fingers clenched into a fist. “A wall,” she said, and closed her eyes.

“Now, imagine yourself holding a rope of water around that wall.” He was tempted to cross his fingers.
His knowledge of fire-starters was limited, and he had no idea if this would actually work. The night air churned with heat, turning the lightly falling rain to steam long before it hit the ground. The smell of pine was growing stronger, as if the tree behind her were beginning to burn. If she didn’t get the power under control soon, everything around them would ignite.

After a moment, she nodded minutely.

“Draw the rope back into your body. Let the water cool the fire as you draw it in.”

He waited. After several long minutes, the heat began to abate. She took a deep breath, then opened her eyes and stared at him.

“It worked,” she said softly. “I controlled it.”