Witch Fire (25 page)

She and Andrea set up operations in Thomas's kitchen, using a dozen small vials and beakers of various liquids and powders. It looked more complex than chemistry class.

They brought in a sample copy of the warding where Mira had found the rip from around the Duskoff Building, sort of like a metaphysical carbon copy, and set about trying different combinations of potions to tear it down. Mira helped by describing the texture of the fissure. She was the only one with that knowledge since she'd squeezed through it. Andrea and another earth witch named Devon worked to exploit it.

Finally, at 2
P.M.
something in the kitchen went boom. Not a big boom, just a little one. Enough to make Mira's ears pop.

“Bingo,” declared Andrea.

Thomas walked into the kitchen. “Damn, you're good, Andrea.”

“Yes, I am. I deserve a raise,” she answered, beaming. “I must say that Mira made it happen, though. Without the knowledge of the inconsistency and location of that tear, I couldn't have broken it.”

“So, we're going then?” asked Mira impatiently.

“We're going in five minutes,” said Thomas loudly as he pulled Mira to the side. Everyone jumped to get ready to leave. “Listen, about Jack. I think you should know before we go in that—”

She held up her hand to stop him. “I can't think about him right now. I feel bad about leaving him behind, and it's important I channel all my concentration on getting Annie out.”

He pursed his lips together. “Okay. I just want you to know that you always have a place at the Coven. You always have a job with us. When this is over—”

“You mean if we don't get killed,” she added.

He inclined his head a degree. “If we don't get killed, you have a home and a career waiting for you in Chicago.”

She gave his shoulder a warm squeeze. “Thank you, Thomas. If we make it through today, I'll consider your offer.”

“We could use someone like you. You've grown incredibly powerful over these last few weeks, so I'm not asking you just because you're family. I'm asking because soon you're going to be kicking some serious magickal ass, and I want you at my side.”

Mira smiled and hugged him. “I'm glad you're my cousin, Thomas.”

“
Now
I'm speaking as a cousin. I know I'd have to tie you up and lock you in the bathroom to keep you from coming with us and not even that would work because of your magick. So, I'm putting you with Brian,” he pointed at the blond witch who was built like a tank. “And Craig, and Alex,” he pointed at two more witches built like tanks.

“Thomas…”

“And James,” he pointed to a good-looking witch with curly short-cropped red gold hair, glasses, and power that fairly radiated from him. James was an earth witch, she could feel it. A strong one.

She started to protest, but he put his finger to her lips. “No. Not a word. You left Jack behind. That means I get to say who you go in with. You don't leave their side. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

Thomas sighed. “I wish Jack was here.”

Mira did, too, but she didn't say it.

T
HEY HAD THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE UNTIL THEY
were actually in the building. When the warding broke, all the witches in the Duskoff Building knew it.

Mira clapped her hands over her ears when Thomas and Andrea used the potion to dissolve the warding. It twanged like a heavy cable on a bridge snapping when it went.

Thomas had taken fifteen of the best and brightest from the Coven, but more witches had joined them in New York. They all had converged at Thomas's apartment during the day, trickling in by twos and threes. He'd broken them into groups and given them instructions before they'd left to break the warding. While they were busy breaching the Duskoff 's defenses, the witches left his apartment piecemeal so they wouldn't attract attention.

Even though their cover was blown, Thomas sent in witches with the specific task of taking down the building's surveillance, so that Crane and his minions wouldn't know exactly where in the building any of them were located.

The group that went in right after that group had orders to engage the warlocks who would rush forward to defend their building. Those witches were their first line of defense…well,
offense
in this case. The Duskoff were on the defensive now.

Mira liked that a lot.

The rest of the Coven witches entered from several different points on the ground floor after Thomas had confirmation the security cameras were down.

Mira and her men entered from a side door that led into a long corridor with many doors leading off on either side into offices and meeting rooms. Their shoes were silent on the tan marble floor, though Mira was sure everyone could probably hear how loud her heart was beating as they progressed.

The good thing was that the Duskoff had driven their only air witch to suicide, so at least they couldn't tell where Mira and her guards were remotely. The bad thing was that Mira wasn't experienced enough yet her in her abilities to send her consciousness out while she was nervous and distracted and therefore could not tell where
they
were remotely.

Another good thing was that this battle would take place within the walls of the Duskoff Building, well away from the awareness of any non-magickals.

They progressed down the corridor as quietly as they could. Their goal was to make it to the fortieth floor. That's where Annie was located.

Noise came from further down the corridor. Mira and her guards all ducked into empty rooms, but no one came down the hallway. Mira cautiously peered past the doorframe. The sounds seemed to be coming from the main lobby at the end of the corridor.

Well, hell.
They had to go through there to get to the main stairwell or the elevator.

The witch beside her, James, crept out of the room and inched down the hallway. He waved them out behind him when he deemed it safe. Together they made it to the end of the corridor. From the lobby came loud voices, yells, and the sound of a fight already underway.

Mira crouched down and peered around the corner of the hallway where it opened into the lobby. Coven witches had engaged the warlocks, but were getting their metaphysical asses kicked. They needed help. Plus…

“We have to get through them to get to Annie,” Mira whispered to James. Was there an edge of panic in her voice?
Shit.

“Then let's go,” answered James eagerly. His magick seemed to pour off him in waves of steady, crushing power. Mira could tell he was chomping at the bit to let all that luscious, rich magick off its leash.

Mira drew a steadying breath. They could do this.
She
could do this. For Annie's sake, and her own, she had to.

She wouldn't go in cowering, afraid. She'd go in there like the powerful witch she'd become and put the fear of the Goddess in them.

It was time to make an entrance.

“Okay. Everyone ready?” she whispered to the men beside her.

Brian and James nodded. She couldn't see the others, but no one objected.

Her stomach swarmed with nervous butterflies, but underneath that lay Mira's absolute resolve to get Annie out of there alive.

Mira closed her eyes and pulled a thread of her magick, a sizable one, and readied it. Around her she heard and felt the men get their magick ready too.

She rose from her crouching position and stepped around the corner, raising a tempest along with her. Wind rose gently but became stronger fast. It ripped her long black coat and blew her hair around her head until she probably looked like Medusa. Adrenaline surged through her body, but she put everything she had into maintaining an aura of dangerous confidence. She even swaggered a little.

There were about thirteen warlocks in the lobby and only a couple of Coven witches left standing.

Once the wind kicked up, all eyes turned to them. She couldn't do the tornado trick like she'd done in Jack's apartment because the effort might leave her unconscious, and also because she couldn't be sure she wouldn't hurt any of their own people.

The warlocks advanced on them. Her guards engaged, and fighting began around her, but she never faltered in her forward march. Walking toward them, she lifted her hand and tossed a warlock backward to hit a wall when she felt him raise a strand of power. Another tried to throw fire at her, but she sucked the air out of it like Jack had taught her. One of the warlocks doused her in water. She felt it grow colder and colder, but she raised a warming wind around her, drying her skin, hair, and clothes before the warlock could freeze her.

Mira kept advancing on them, but now they were retreating. One by one, feeling her power rising within her, she tossed the warlocks backward to get them out of their way.

She almost felt giddy. Now she understood the power of air. No one could defeat air. It was too vast, too supple, and easily managed by the witch who wielded it.

Who could stand against her?

No one, that's who.

New power skittered over her skin—dark and strong. Earth magick. A spell woven from the magick of the earth herself. A strand released itself from a curvy, diminutive blonde warlock to her right. Mira turned just in time to block her blast of energy with a wall of air, dissipating the spell before it reached her.

“Come on, guys,” she shouted, elated. “Is that all you've got? I could do this all day!”

Something hit her throat. She gagged and reached up to feel a pointy object sticking out of her neck.

O
H, THAT WAS NEVER A GOOD THING.

Sharp pain washed through her veins, bleeding quickly into a hazy, numbed nothingness. Suddenly, she felt wrapped in cotton, her mind, her body…everything. The wind in the room ceased, and she heard people cheering and clapping as if from a distance.

Mira collapsed to her knees, trying to pull another thread. Her mind felt fuzzy. Thinking was like trying to pick up a grain of sand with swollen fingers.

Without her air magick to shield them, the Coven witches she'd come in with were unprotected. There was a strained moment of silence after the applause before chaos let loose around her.

A man walked toward her. The cacophony surrounding her faded until she could hear only his leather shoes on the polished floor. They seemed to echo in her mind. He stopped in front of her, and she glanced up with effort.

Stefan.

He walked around her once more, humming the song “Behind Blue Eyes,” and obviously enjoying her helplessness.

Oh, please.

Rage bubbled up within her, but it was impotent. She couldn't reach her magick. He'd drugged her with something that made it impossible for her to access her seat. She felt numb, slow. She couldn't move her limbs. Even now her ability to move her head was fading. Mira tried to speak, and only an incomprehensible gurgle came from her throat.

Stefan laughed low. It was a beautiful laugh, like rich velvet whispering over her skin. “Did you think that air magick was invincible,
ma jolie sorcière?
” He clucked his tongue. “A witch is only as good as her ability to wield her power. That means even a witch such as you can be defeated. You gave us a nice surprise today, however. I will give you kudos for that.”

He resumed his humming, allowing her to witness what was happening in the lobby. Around her the Coven witches fell to the Duskoff one by one. Craig went down. Then Brian. Then James.

Rock. Paper. Scissors.

Stefan forced her to watch it all to the irritating sound of his circling footsteps and his little song.

Her thought process seemed sluggish and confused, though her mind seemed to be growing a little clearer with every passing moment. Even though she wanted to, she couldn't fight when Stefan pulled her to her feet and picked her up, cradling her in his arms like a lover. Her skin tried to get up and walk away without her at the intimate touch of him against her body.

“I do not like it when people try to hurt William Crane, Mira,” Stefan whispered as he bore her through the lobby toward the elevator. “He is the only father I know. Therefore, I understand your desperation to help your godmother. I do not fault you for it.”

Well, that was a load off her mind.

They traveled up to the fortieth floor, and he carried her down the empty corridors of Duskoff International, past the gleaming silver and gold of the offices and receptionist areas, and into a long boardroom. A wet bar and mirror lined one side and a long table with swivel chairs dominated the center. The windows looked out on the New York City skyline.

A man sat in a chair on the far end of the table. The older gentleman turned as Stefan entered the room. Mira caught a glimpse of his face before Stefan laid her on top of the table.

Crane.

“What's all the fuss about?” demanded Crane.

“Thomas and his witches surprised us. They managed to break the warding and enter the building ahead of our scheduled meeting. Our people still fight them, but it matters no longer. I have brought you the witch you covet, Father.”

William Crane struggled to rise and make his way around the long table to look down at her. His eyes were blue in his craggy, ashen face. They were like Jack's, that distinctive pale hue you didn't see just anywhere.

He wrinkled his nose. “Pretty, but she stinks of my son. His magick is all over her.”

Her mind fumbled for a moment.
His son?
Did he mean Stefan? But Stefan was standing right beside him. Why talk about him as though he wasn't in the room?

Crane leaned toward her. His breath smelled of sickness. “You've been in Jack's bed, haven't you? Your skin has rubbed against his numerous times. I can tell.” He touched his nose. “One of my special abilities, see, girl? I can scent out magick like a bloodhound.”

Realization slammed into her. She felt like she'd just been thrown through a plate glass window. Shards of brutal truth glittered around her, ran her through and made her bleed.

Jack
was Crane's estranged son. Lord and Lady.

Things made more sense now. The ring she'd found in his apartment bearing the initial
C
, the way he'd never looked her in the eye when he spoke of his family, and why he always appeared uncomfortable when discussing Crane and Stefan.

Apparently, she wasn't very good at masking her expression because Crane laughed. “He didn't tell you I'm his father, did he? Jack has always been a little ashamed of his family.”

Stefan's cell phone rang and he stepped away to answer it, leaving Crane peering down at her. “Don't take it too hard, dear. Jack sleeps with all the pretty ones, I hear. Never gets close enough to any of them to tell them all his secrets. He was there, you know, the day your mother died.”

Dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

Crane nodded. “I remember that day well, because it's the last time I was able to call a demon.” He frowned. “I don't even remember why we had to raise it.” He scratched his head, thinking, and then waved his hand in dismissal.

Stefan snapped his cell phone closed and tucked it back into his inside suit jacket pocket. “Thomas and his witches are still in the building, but David is bringing the others here so we can complete the ritual. There is no sense in wasting our time.”

“Fine. We'll have the demon for a while. It can take care of Thomas and his witches. We'll tell it it's a perk.” He gave a harsh laugh and wavered on his feet.

Stefan put a hand to Crane's elbow to steady him. “After it takes care of you, Father.”

Yuck.
Stefan really did care about this monster. Monsters fathering monsters.

Did that make Jack a monster?

No.
Of course not.

Still, why hadn't Jack seen fit to tell her this bit of monumental news? He'd lied to her, concealed his true self from her, and betrayed her trust…just as Ben had done.

Tears trickled from the corner of her eyes, but she lacked the ability to wipe them away. She was done with men for the rest of her life. It would be an easy oath to keep, since it looked like her life would be over in about fifteen minutes.

“Where was I?” continued Crane. He wandered over to pour himself a drink at the bar. Crane and Stefan both seemed totally unconcerned that the Coven had infiltrated their building. “Oh, yes. Jack watched your mother die. Hmmm, yes. She lost the will to live after your father went the day before her.” Crane shook his head. “It was very sad, truth be told. I felt badly for her.”

“Tell her about taking them, Father. I love that story,” said Stefan from his place beside her. He reached out and caught one of her teardrops from the edge of her eye and let it dangle on his fingertip for a moment before it fell.

Mira felt like she was in some horror story, paralyzed and alive while everyone around her thought her dead. And they were just about to slip her into a coffin and bury her that way.

“They were hard to kidnap,” Crane said after he'd taken a sip of his cocktail. “You can be proud of them on that score. You have to be very committed to go after an air witch of any talent, and we went after two at the same time. It was one of the Duskoff 's finest hours.” His voice held a great amount of pride.

“Your parents killed ten of my best witches before we finally got them into custody. Your father almost died during the kidnapping. He was burned very badly while we tried to subdue him and your mother. In the end we could barely keep your father alive until the ritual. He was a powerful witch. Enough power in that one to open three portals.” He tipped the glass toward her before draining it. “Your mother too.”

“I've sensed the power in this one,” added Stefan, smoothing his fingers through her hair. “She has inherited their ability, though she lacks their control.”

“How long do those drugs last?” Crane asked, eyeing her with a little trepidation.

“Long enough for us to perform the ritual, Father,
ne t'inquietes pas
.”

Mira felt nauseous. She wasn't sure if it was from having to listen to Crane talk about the murder of her parents like a fond memory, or if it was because the drugs in her system were wearing off. Unobtrusively, she wiggled a toe in her shoe.

The drugs
were
wearing off. Mira felt a moment of triumph. Maybe Stefan had mistaken the dosage, or the drugs reacted slightly differently in her system.

“Jack watched the whole of the ritual that killed your mother, but he ran before the demon was birthed.” Crane grimaced. “I thought it was a sign of weakness, but it turns out the boy wasn't weak at all. His failings were my own. If I'd raised him differently, he would've turned out fine.”

The door opened, and several warlocks entered with three gagged and bound witches in tow. Last to come through the door was Annie.

Mira was able to move a little more now, a fact she would closely guard. Incrementally, so no one would notice, she moved her head to watch Annie's captor lead her through the room.

Annie's salt-and-pepper hair had none of its normal luster, and her face appeared pinched with pain. Her gaze brushed Mira's before the warlock leading her plopped her into a chair on the other side of the room, making her grimace in pain and her face go white. The burns along her upper arms and the exposed skin of her back looked angry, irritated, undoubtedly infected. Her godmother's gaze locked with hers across the room and didn't budge.

A moment later another group of warlocks came in. “Sir, the Coven witches are all over the building,” said a small, greasy looking man with a bad toupee. He sounded worried.

“Yes, let's not waste any more time,” answered Crane. “Stefan.”

Stefan scooped her up into his arms while the other warlocks positioned the three bound and gagged witches in the empty area at the end of the room near the bar. The witches all struggled against their captors and were wrestled into submission and forced to kneel. They went submissive, their faces slack. Had they been drugged too? Mira wasn't sure.

No visible circle marked the floor, but Mira sensed a metaphysical one. Earth magick signaled north, south, east, and west.

Stefan began to ease her down to lie on her side in the position of north.

Knowing she had only this small window of opportunity, she pulled her ace. When he'd laid her down, she shot to her knees and bolted forward into Stefan's waist. Her muscles felt like rubber, and she had less ability to move than she'd supposed. All the same, she knocked the French bastard back a few steps before falling forward onto her face.

The ace hadn't really been much of an ace.

The warlocks in the room snickered.

“Shut up,” Stefan snarled at them. “She has spirit and a will to live. Give her the respect she deserves.
Merde
.”

Stefan braced her shoulders, and she tried to fight him as he pulled her upward. Her muscles just wouldn't cooperate. Another few minutes and the stupid drug would wear off, but she sensed she didn't have that kind of time.

No more minutes for her.

“The tranquilizer did not work very well on you, did it,
ma chéri
?” he murmured into her ear. “I was not sure how much to use on a witch like you.
Bon
, no matter.”

He plopped her back down in position, and she panted from the exertion of trying to fight her body's paralysis. She looked at the other three witches in the circle as Stefan backed away. There were two women and one man. The man was perhaps in his early forties. His hair was clipped so close to his head she couldn't tell if it was gray or blond.

The two women were both brunette and appeared similar in face and body, sisters perhaps. The Duskoff sure did like to take families. Maybe they'd been a two-for special.

Crane began snapping orders at everyone to get into position. “Hurry up,” he groused. “Once we get the spell started, we'll be safe. No Coven witch will be able to penetrate the barrier of the magick.”

Oh, shit.
There went their last chance at rescue.

The two women fought their bonds, their wide eyes glancing around the room, still hoping, perhaps, for a last-minute reprieve. It wouldn't come. The man had gone incredibly still and knelt with his eyes downcast, resigned to his fate.