Circle of Fire (17 page)

I can do this. For Evan, I can do this
.

She took a deep breath, then walked across to her bag, digging around until she found Evan’s gold chain.

Maybe it would help. Maybe it wouldn’t.

Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, she looped the chain around her hand and closed her eyes. She formed a picture of Evan in her mind and projected her need to find him.

Nothing happened.

She frowned slightly. She thought of him laughing as they played football together, remembered the look on his face the Halloween she’d dressed up as a witch and come visiting. Still nothing happened. No images came.

She sighed and opened her eyes. Maybe she needed another focus—what had set her abilities off recently? The smell of citrus—oranges!

She scrambled off the sofa and ran to the door. The light was still on in the office. She grabbed her key and ran across the hall.

The old man looked up as she entered. “Just caught me,” he said with a smile. “What can I do for you, lass?”

“Is there anywhere near I can get some oranges?”

If he was surprised by her odd request, he certainly didn’t show it. “There’s very little open at this hour, I’m afraid.” He frowned thoughtfully, gnarled fingers tapping the desk. “But I’ve a couple of old ones out back. If all you want is juice, they’d be fine.”

Maddie grinned in relief. “That would be great. Thanks.”

She collected the oranges and returned to her room. After locking the door, she found a knife and sliced them open, putting the halves into a small bowl before returning to the sofa.

Her heart raced uncomfortably—a rhythm caused more by uncertainty than fear. She’d failed at everything else she’d tried to do in her life; she didn’t want to fail at this.

She brought the bowl up to her nose and took a deep sniff. The faint scent of citrus ran around her, sweet and compelling. She picked up the chain and
once again pictured Evan’s smiling face in her mind. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then darkness rushed at her, pulling her down. She fought the tide, thinking of Evan, trying to compel the dream in that direction.

The darkness swirled, then slowly cleared, revealing the familiar interior of the old cabin. In one corner she could see the bundle of blankets that was Evan and the second teenager. In the other was a bright fire. And sitting in a chair beside the fire was Hank. She frowned. What was he doing at the cabin when he was supposedly the night watch at the inn?

The dream shimmered, fading slightly, and she forced herself to concentrate. She had to try to direct the dream to the cabin’s exterior …

The image blurred for a minute, then re-formed. Suddenly, she was outside. Tall, snow-dusted pines surrounded the clearing like sentries on duty. A windbreak, she thought; the trees were too regimented to be anything else. The dream drifted forward; a rutted, slushy track led away from the front of the cabin and through the pines.

Her dream followed it. The track wound down the mountainside, past the bluish pines and into mountain wilderness. Finally, it came to a main road. The mailbox on the side of the road said Malkin Cabin. The dream drifted on and came to a sign—“Jewell, 15 miles.”

A huge crash wrenched her from the dream, and with a squeak of fright, she leaped to her feet, her heart thumping rapidly somewhere in the vicinity of her throat.

Someone or something was outside her room.

M
ADDIE TOOK A DEEP BREATH, THEN GATHERED HER COURAGE
and walked across to the window. Pushing the curtains to one side, she looked out.

Jon was sprawled across the front of her truck. That must have been the crash she’d heard—but how the heck had he gotten there? He looked as if he’d been thrown there, and he certainly wasn’t moving.

Her breath caught in her throat. Was he hurt?

She ran for the door. He jerked upright when she rushed out, a smile touching his full lips.

“Maddie. Glad to see you.”

There was a cut on his cheek. Though it didn’t look deep, blood was smeared over the right side of his face. His speech was slurred, and his blue eyes were slightly unfocused.
Great
, she thought sourly,
he’s drunk. And he’s dented my damn hood
. Then she frowned and glanced upward. To cause such a big dent, he’d have to have done a swan dive from above the car, but there was no overhanging verandah, nothing he could have leapt off. So how had he managed to land face first in the middle of her hood? Fly?

Her gaze widened at the thought.
Ohmigod, he
can
fly
. He had told her he was a shapeshifter. That his
other shape was a hawk. She licked her lips, studying him nervously. She hadn’t really believed him before. Something deep within had refused to, even though she’d been attacked by ghosts—creatures whose existence she would have relegated to the realms of fairy tales right along with shapeshifters.

Her gaze slipped to the dent underneath him.
If he can fly, you’d think he’d at least be able to land a little better
.

She saw the old guy in the office peering out his window and offered Jon a hand. “Here, let me help you inside before we attract too much attention.”

The last thing they needed right now was the manager calling the cops.

He grabbed her hand and slipped off the hood, but his movements were unsteady, almost awkward. She frowned. Sweat beaded his forehead and darkened his golden hair, and his breathing was shallow and rapid. This had to be more than mere drunkenness—maybe he was ill. Worry snaked through her. Maybe she should just take him to the hospital instead.

She slipped his arm around her shoulders to hold him upright. His gaze met hers, his eyes filled with a warmth that cut through her soul. He touched her cheek, then ran a finger lightly down to her lips. She resisted the temptation to kiss his fingertips and jerked away instead. She had no intention of starting a fire she could not control.

His hand dropped back to his side. “We should get inside,” he said shortly, looking away. “It’s safer.”

Safer from what? Eleanor? What had happened during their so-called date? Maddie frowned but
helped him into the room. She sat him on the bed, then went to lock the door.

He didn’t say anything, but his gaze followed her as she walked across the room. Heat crept into her cheeks. She wet a cloth in the bathroom, then walked back to the bed. He hadn’t moved. Was barely even blinking.

She frowned and carefully wiped the blood from his face. As she suspected, the cut wasn’t deep. Had Eleanor attacked him with a knife? Or had something else happened … something in the heat of passion, perhaps? Maddie licked her lips. He was a shapeshifter, after all. Who knew what their mating habits were …

“Thank you,” he said softly when she’d finished.

She nodded. Avoiding his gaze, she tossed the cloth into the bathroom and retreated to the middle of the room, as far away from the beds and any suggestion of intimacy as was practical.

“Did you find anything out about Evan? Or the cabin?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the back of the sofa, watching him warily.

“No.”

His answer seemed edged with an incredible amount of anger. She frowned. “Why not? What happened?”

He rubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. Lines of weariness etched his face, and his smile held a slightly bitter edge. “Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.”

Again the anger was heavy in his voice. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. It almost sounded as if he
were somehow blaming her for whatever it was that didn’t happen.

“What do you mean?”

His gaze clashed with hers. His blue eyes were bright and fired with some emotion she couldn’t define. “I mean I couldn’t go through with my efforts to seduce her, damn it.”

Relief and surprise rippled through her. She looked away. While she was intensely glad he hadn’t been able to go through with his seduction, she knew it was wrong to feel that way. She barely knew this man—why should she care if he slept with another woman, especially if it provided information to find Evan?

Besides, he’d already warned her not to expect anything more than a partnership from him. He was a loner. He wanted a woman to keep him company at night, nothing more.

And as much as she wanted Jon to hold her and kiss her and make love to her, she knew one night with him would never be enough. He’d shown her a tenderness, a caring that she’d never thought to see from a man. Because of that, she was beginning to realize that she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone. She needed someone like Jon in her life. Only he’d already made it clear he wasn’t available for anything more than friendship.

She returned her gaze to his. His arms were crossed, and his mouth was set into a grim line. She wondered why. “What went wrong?”

He grimaced. Annoyance ran across his face, thundercloud dark. “You.”

“Me?”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “How the hell did I stop you? I wasn’t even there.”

He ran a hand roughly through the sweat-darkened tangle of his hair. “You were everywhere.”

His words whispered through her heart. She looked away from the sudden intensity of his gaze. If she wasn’t very careful, she could find herself believing that he actually
cared
for her.

Then she frowned. Something weird was going on here. He wouldn’t willingly say something like that, not after warning her so often not to get involved. So why had he said it? And why was he answering every one of her questions? “Why are you acting so strangely?”

He grimaced. “Eleanor slipped me some sort of drug.”

“Is it dangerous?” She quickly pushed away from the sofa. “Do you need a doctor?”

“I don’t think so.” Again his answer seemed reluctant. “It’s just screwing up my ability to see and walk properly and making me tell you things you have no right to know. And it’s really pissing me off, Maddie.”

She tried to ignore the accusation in his eyes. Evan was her nephew. She had every right, and every intention, of finding out all she could about the woman who’d taken him. And about the man who was helping her find him.

“So how did you escape if the drug is affecting you so badly?”

His smile was grim. “Hit her before the drug took hold.”

He
hit
her? Images of Brian flickered through her
mind, and she closed her eyes against them. Jon was no Brian. He didn’t hit women for pleasure—of that much she was certain.

Still … “Is she okay?”

“Of course she is. I just hit her once to knock her out.” He frowned at her suddenly. “Why the hell should you care? The woman probably sent those sylphs to attack you, and she sure as hell tried to kill me with that white-ash arrow. She probably would have finished the job tonight if I hadn’t escaped.”

“I know, it’s just that I—” She hesitated and shook her head. What on earth was she thinking? Jon had no need, and probably no desire, to learn about her violent history with Brian. “Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”

“I’m sure. The effects aren’t as strong as they were at first.”

He was still watching her warily. She frowned, wondering why. Then it hit her.
He’d taken a drug that was making him answer questions truthfully
. A grin twitched her lips. That was a temptation almost too good to resist.

“Don’t go there,” he warned softly. “You may not like what you find.”

She scowled at him. He sat in the middle of the bed, a golden man dressed in black, with a past just as dark. He was as much of an enigma to her now as when he’d first appeared in her bedroom. That wasn’t likely to change unless she seized this moment and ran with it.

“Who do you work for, Jon?” she asked softly. She saw the struggle in his eyes, could see his irritation in the sudden tension knotting the muscles in his
arms. She knew it wasn’t right, but what else could she do? Jon hadn’t exactly been forthright with any sort of information—this might be her only chance to learn something about him.

“The Damask Circle.” His answer was ground out between clenched teeth. He was fighting the drug in his system, fighting answering her questions.

I’m not being fair
, she thought, but she had no intention of stopping now that she’d started. “And they are?”

He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. His gaze condemned her. “It’s an organization of psychics, witches, and paranormal creatures such as vampires and shapeshifters. We hunt down the bad things, the creatures that hide in shadows and kill.”

His voice was flat and cold. She stared into his eyes and saw the horror lying there. Vampires and shape-changers and God knows what else were an everyday part of this man’s life, and it scared the hell out of her. As did the knowledge that there was actually an organization out there to fight these things. And to think she’d spent the last six years hiding from the world because she’d thought her fire-starting abilities were a threat to everyone. What a joke that seemed now.

She rubbed her eyes wearily, then looked up again. Deep down in the blue depths of his eyes, past the shadows and the death, she saw the hint of despair and wondered at its reason. “Things like the people who took Evan?”