Circle Of Fire

Chapter Seventeen

"Well, well, well." Mack leaned his chair against the wall and looked more like a smiling shark than ever.

"This is an unexpected pleasure. I'd anticipated having to issue a warrant to get you in here."

"Cut the crap, Mack. I need your help." Unable to stay still, Jon began pacing the width of the small office Mack had obviously claimed as his own.

Mack's chair hit the floor with a thump. "What's happened?"

"Eleanor has taken Maddie hostage again. She'll exchange her for Evan." Jon swung away from the intensity of Mack's gaze and stalked across to the window. Ten minutes had passed, ten minutes in which anything could have happened to Maddie. He gazed down at the empty street, watching the rain pelting across the pavement. Imagined it doing the same to her pale skin.

He closed his mind to the image and swung back around. "I need to know where the kid is Mack." His voice was almost savage, but he didn't care. "He's my only hope of getting her back alive."

Mack eyed him neutrally. "You can't exchange one death for another."

"I don't intend to." He ran a hand across his eyes. They felt gritty and sore, as if he hadn't slept in a week. But this was a nightmare only just beginning. He dug the ring out of his pocket and showed it to the agent. "This belongs to Eleanor. Through it, she will know when I find Evan. Only then will she tell me where the exchange will take place."

The big man leaned forward and studied the ring. "It's magical?"

"Yes." He bit down on his impatience and flipped the ring in his palm. "Through it she used to track Hank's movements. Now she'll track mine."

Mack leaned back in his chair and regarded him evenly. "I gather, then, that Hank is dead."

"Yes." He hesitated, then shoved the ring back into his pocket. "If you hurry, you'll find what's left of his remains up near Castle Peak."

Mack frowned. "How did he die?"

"Does it really matter?" He slammed his palms down on the desk and glared across at Mack. "He's dead. And Maddie will be, too, if we don't get a move on here."

Mack continued to regard him steadily. He briefly considered throwing the FBI agent against a wall or two to shake the information out of him, but past experience told him it wouldn't make a difference. The big man would budge only when it suited him.

"What if I tell you that I don't know where he is?" he said softly.

Jon snorted. "I'd call you a damn liar."

Mack grinned—all teeth and no emotion. "Have you considered the prospect that Eleanor will come for you and the boy once you find him? That Maddie may be dead right now, anyway?"

"Maddie's alive." He could feel it in his heart, in his soul. If she died, he would know. If she died, there would be nothing left but the need for revenge. "Eleanor won't come to us personally when I reach Evan.

She'll do so by spirit. She wants me to witness Maddie's death. She wants to make sure I suffer."

"And you are suffering, aren't you? What if this is all part of her game?"

"Damn it, just tell me where the kid is!"

"No." Mack's quiet statement cut through his heart like a knife.

Jon stared at him. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no, I won't give you the boy." He hesitated, then rose quickly from the chair, as if he could feel the anger building on the other side of the desk and wanted to escape its path. "Not unless I come with you."

Jon laughed harshly and pushed away from the desk. "You're insane."

"And you're a hairsbreadth away from a murder charge!"

Jon slammed his palms back onto the desk. The force of his blow made the whole desk shake. "You can't charge me for killing someone who was already dead!"

Mack stared at him. "What in hell do you mean by that?"

He sighed in irritation and pushed away from the desk. He really didn't want to get into all this right now.

It was only wasting precious time. "The thing masquerading as Hank Stewart wasn't born in this lifetime.

It wasn't born in your grandfather's lifetime. It clung to life through the blood of others, and through Eleanor's magic."

The FBI agent blinked. It was the only indication that he was even listening. "You're saying he was some form of zombie?"

"Sort of." What Hank had been he didn't really know. And he didn't really care. The man was dead and could no longer hurt Maddie. That was all that mattered.

"But… zombies are shambling creatures with no brain or emotion. Hank was human."

Jon shook his head. "You've been watching too many horror movies. Now, tell me where Evan is."

"I don't think it's a wise move—" "What's not a wise move is all this screwing around! Because believe me, if it costs Maddie her life, there won't be a prison on this Earth strong enough to hold me—or keep me away from your damn throat."

If Mack was in any way intimidated by the threat, he didn't show it. "As I was saying, I don't think that's a wise move—unless I come with you."

Jon watched in silence as Mack dragged his coat off the back of the chair and quickly donned it.

Finally, the FBI agent met his steady gaze and gave him another bland smile. "But I do think I finally have an answer for the question I asked yesterday."

Jon raked a hand through his hair. Somewhere along the line he'd obviously lost the point of their conversation. "What question?"

"You really do care for this woman, don't you?"

He avoided Mack's knowing gaze and studied the storm-held night beyond the window, wondering how cold it was getting up in the mountains. Was it was snowing up there yet? "Yes. I really do. But I can't let you come with me, Mack. Eleanor's too dangerous."

"I agree."

He looked back in surprise, but Mack's gaze was determined.

"From what I can gather, she's got the better of you twice now. A third time might be unlucky for everyone."

He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it. Still, he had to try one more time. "You've never met her like. You have no understanding what you're about to go up against."

Mack gave him a wolflike grin. "I've never met your like before, either, but I've survived our ten year association."

Jon glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes gone. "You'll slow me down. I can fly faster than you could ever drive."

"Which is a point I'd like to discuss on our way. Come along, son. We have no time to waste."

Jon smacked the wall in frustration. No one seemed to be listening to common sense these days—especially when he was speaking it. But with Maddie's life now on the line, he could think of no other human he'd rather have at his back than Terry Mackeral. With a final glance at his watch, he followed the FBI agent out the door.

"We're running out of time."

"I know." If Mack was at all concerned, Jon certainly couldn't see it. "We're almost there."

Jon turned his gaze to the skyline. Dawn was beginning to creep through the darkness, spreading red fingers of light across the stormy skies. An hour and a half had passed. And there was snow up on the mountain peaks.

Maddie was still alive, but he wasn't certain of anything more than that. He rubbed a hand across gritty-feeling eyes. This was exactly the situation he'd spent half his life trying to avoid—someone he cared about getting caught in the line of fire. It was the reason he'd walked away from his family, the reason he'd tried to convince himself his heart could only belong to his work.

And it was the reason he would continue to push Maddie away from him once they'd rescued her. He couldn't let her go through this type of hell a second time.

Mack slowed the car and turned into a driveway. The headlights picked out a small cabin not far from the road.

"Place belongs to a friend of mine. Evan and his family were only here until this morning, then we were moving them interstate."

At least the police weren't taking any chances with Evan's safety. "I just need to talk to the kid."

Mack nodded. "And the ring?"

"Will let us know what Eleanor plans next." He climbed out of the car as soon as it stopped. The wind moaned through the trees, and its touch was bitterly cold. And Maddie was out in it, wearing only a T-shirt.

He slammed the car door shut and stalked up to the front door. Mack caught his arm only feet away and pulled him to a halt. "The father's a cop with a trigger temper. Best let me handle this."

He nodded and stepped away. Mack thumped on the door. The only reply was the unmistakable sound of a rifle being loaded.

"Who is it?" a voice called.

"FBI. Open the door, Steve."

"Put your badge against the window."

Mack muttered something under his breath, then glanced back at Jon. "The man can be a pain in the backside, but it's good to see he's being this cautious."

Jon bit down on the urge to smash past Mack and the fool with the gun. "Caution won't save Evan or Maddie. Hurry up."

Mack slapped his badge against the window. After a moment, the door opened.

"Who's your friend?" the bear-like figure asked, pointing the rifle in Jon's direction.

Mack pushed the weapon aside. "He's helping with inquiries. We need to talk to your son, Steve."

The big man shook his head. "He's asleep, and I don't want to wake him."

Mack's sharklike smile flashed briefly. "Neither do I, but we have no choice. Which room?"

"Second on the right down the hall." Steve eyed Jon with distrust then swung his gaze back to Mack.

"I'm coming with you."

"Fine. Just don't interfere, or I'll have you hauled up on charges so fast your head will spin."

Steve blinked in surprise, then nodded. Jon glanced at his watch again as they walked up the hall.

Twenty-five minutes left.

Mack knocked lightly on the door, then opened it up and switched on the light. Evan shot up in bed, his face screwed up in fright.

Steve pushed past them both and walked across the room, placing a reassuring arm around his son's shoulders. "It's okay, Evan. The police just need to talk to you again."

Evan nodded, but his wide, amber gaze was aimed directly at Jon. "Why haven't you rescued her? You promised."

Jon ignored Mack's raised eyebrow. The teenager's gaze was full of fear. He knew, or at least suspected, why they were there. "I did. Eleanor took her again." He hesitated, then added softly, "She wants to exchange Maddie for you."

The teenager shrank back into his father's arms. Steve held him tight and glared at the two of them. "You can't seriously be thinking of complying."

"Of course not." Mack's voice held a soothing note. "But we do need Evan's help to locate his aunt."

"For God's sake, he's just a kid. Why don't you leave him alone?"

There was a desperate edge of denial in Steve's voice, and his fear curled through the room. Jon smiled grimly. Steve didn't want his son to be different. Didn't want him to be gifted, like his aunt.

But it was fools like Steve who had put Maddie through hell for so long. Anger shot through him, but he held it in check. "Like it or not, your son has inherited psychic abilities similar to his aunt's. Denying it won't change anything. It might even make it worse." Might eventually make him kill someone because he'd been forced to deny his gifts too long. "But that's not what we're here for, either."

"I can't find her," Evan said, a tremor of fear running through his soft voice. "There's some sort of wall between us."

"I don't want you to find her." Jon took the ring out of his pocket. The light sparked the panther's eyes to life, shooting pale red rays through the room. "This ring belongs to Eleanor. If you touch it, she'll know we've found you and will tell us where to meet her."

Evan shrank back against his father again. "She'll come here?"

"Only as a wraith, a ghost. She won't be real, and she won't be able to hurt you."

"This is ridiculous," Steve growled. The fear in his eyes was almost as bright as the fear in his son's eyes.

"Be quiet or leave." Mack moved to stand halfway between the two of them, as if he feared some sort of confrontation. "Go ahead, Jon."

Jon kept his gaze on the teenager. After a moment, Evan nodded and held his hand out. Jon placed the ring in the middle of Evan's palm, and the boy closed his fingers around it. Nothing happened for several heartbeats, then smoke began to curl through his fingers.

Evan yelped in surprise and would have thrown the ring away if Jon hadn't clamped his hand around the teenager's.

"It's okay," he soothed. "It's only smoke. It won't hurt you."

Evan licked his lips and nodded. It was a gesture so reminiscent of Maddie that Jon's gut twisted painfully. Time was running out, and he was no closer to finding her now than he had been nearly two hours before.

The smoke twisted and turned and finally found shape. Eleanor's malevolent gaze swept across the four of them. Steve and Mack made surprised noises, but Jon kept his eyes on the wraith—just in case it tried anything.

"I've kept my end of the bargain, Eleanor."

She smiled. It might well have been a cat snarling. "So you have, Shapeshifter. And just in time. Your poor, dear girlfriend was turning a little blue."

It felt as if someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed tight. "The deal's off if she's dead, witch." His voice sounded amazingly detached considering he was barely resisting the urge to smash the wraith's face in. Not that it would have done him any good. The wraith was as insubstantial as a ghost.

"Oh, she's not dead. Not yet." The wraith eyed him in amusement. "Come to the old cave up on Maxus Peak and see for yourself. Just be here by sunset with the boy or she'll pay, Shapeshifter."

"We'll be there."

He watched the wraith dissipate then uncurled Evan's fingers from around the ring and took it back.

Though he didn't think it was possible for Eleanor to transport the kid away from them using the ring, he wasn't about to take any chances.

Evan stared at him, fear in his eyes. "You're not going to make me go with you, are you?"

Jon smiled. "No." Not when Maddie had worked so hard to free him. "But I do need a lock of your hair."

"This witchcraft business is getting a little out of hand," Steve muttered uneasily. "I really think you had both better leave."

Jon kept his gaze on the teenager. In some ways, the son was much wiser than the father. "Eleanor has placed her mark on you, so I have to convince her I have you with me. If I tie a lock of hair around the ring, she might be fooled long enough for me to rescue Maddie."

"Enough—" Steve lurched to his feet.

Mack stepped forward and placed a calming hand on the big man's arm. "If you want to save both your son and your sister-in-law, go get the scissors, Steve."

Steve hesitated, then glanced down at his son and nodded. But Jon could tell by the flashes of red that ran through his aura that it wasn't for Maddie's sake that he complied. If Evan hadn't been involved, Steve would have let Maddie rot in hell before he helped her.

Jon wondered how the fool was going to cope with a son who had inherited the same abilities that he hated—and feared—in Maddie.

He stood up and walked across to the window, but it looked south, not north. He couldn't see the mountain that held the witch and Maddie.

"Don't think you're going up there alone," Mack stated quietly.

Jon closed his eyes. He just wanted it all over with, one way or another. But Mack was right. He couldn't go up there alone. Not if he wanted Maddie to walk free from this mess.

"Fine," he said remotely, watching the wind whip the branches of the old pine. "It's not a good day for flight, anyway." But it sure as hell was a good day to kill.

The little man was back in her head, pounding away on his infernal drums. Maddie shook her head, but that only made the pounding increase. Sweat broke out across her forehead and bile rose up the back of her throat. She swallowed heavily, but the metallic taste in her mouth made her stomach turn. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the rolling sensation to go away.

After a while she became aware of a breeze running chill fingers past her legs. She shivered, suddenly realizing her whole body felt cold—so cold her bones ached with it.

She opened her eyes. The light of a nearby torch flickered off the red-brown walls, making the shadows beyond the flame appear more threatening. Somewhere beyond that, lost in the darkness, came the steady drip of water. Beyond that again, the distant howl of the wind.

She shifted slightly, and pain lanced through her brain. Tears stung her eyes. She brushed them away with the heel of her hand, then stared at the huge metal bars about ten feet away. They rose from the rock floor to the ceiling and looked as old as time itself. This wasn't a hastily prepared prison, she thought with a cold feeling of dread. This was a prison Eleanor had used many times before.

Turning carefully, she studied the darkness behind her. A figure suddenly loomed, eyes gleaming in the flickering torchlight. Maddie yelped and edged back in fright. The figure did the same, and Maddie stared in surprise.

It wasn't Eleanor. The scream had sounded too young, and the body shape was wrong. Her heart did a quick leap of joy. It couldn't be, surely… ?

"Teresa?" she questioned softly.

"Yes." The reply was timid, and the girl's voice hoarse, as if she hadn't spoken for a while.

Aware the slightest wrong movement could frighten the girl back into hiding, Maddie kept her voice low.

"Are you okay?"

The teenager edged forward. She was tall and slender, with long, matted brown hair. Her face was gaunt and pale, and dark shadows ringed her eyes. It wasn't hard to guess she'd been Eleanor's guest for quite a while. "Are you a prisoner, too?

Maddie nodded. "I'm afraid Eleanor doesn't like me very much."

The teenager stared at her. "Is that her name? I've only seen her when she comes to check if I'm still asleep."

Which suggested the teenager had been awake for a while. Maddie wondered whether the fact that Teresa was now awake was an oversight on Eleanor's part or intentional. "How often does she do that?"

Teresa shrugged. "Regularly. She took my watch, so I can't really say what time."

If the witch checked regularly, she'd no doubt be back soon. Maddie shivered and rubbed her arms briskly. The movement sent the madman in her head into a frenzy of activity.

"I'm cold, too," Teresa said, edging closer.

The nightgown she wore wasn't much longer than Maddie's T-shirt and certainly didn't appear any warmer. "I'm told that two people hugging is a good way to keep warm," Maddie replied softly. "Want to try it?"

The teenager hesitated a second, then rushed forward and collapsed into her embrace. Maddie rubbed her hands up and down the girl's half-frozen arms and wondered how in the hell she was going to get them both out of Eleanor's cage.

"Where are we?" Teresa clung to her tightly, as if afraid to let her go.

"I don't know." She leaned her head back against the wall and studied the cavern beyond their prison.

They were somewhere in the mountains, obviously, but more than that she couldn't guess. But wherever it was, it was a stronghold Eleanor had well prepared. Fear stabbed through her heart, and she closed her eyes. Jon would come for her, no matter how many traps Eleanor set for him. And he would die because he was only one man, and he couldn't fight Eleanor and protect her at the same time.

She should have listened to him, should have left when she had the chance, instead of lingering that extra night.

And yet, given the chance to do it all over again, her choices would remain the same. Maybe it was selfish, but if she had to die, then she wanted it to be with the memory of Jon's touch still burning across her skin.

Teresa shifted and glanced up. Her eyes were brown and slightly unfocused. Drugged, Maddie thought, and wondered if it might explain her own unnatural calm.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Teresa asked.

Another question she couldn't answer. Maddie smiled grimly and brushed a limp strand of hair away from the girl's eyes. "I'll find a way." She ran her hands up and down the teenager's arms for a minute, then frowned. "Did you wake up on the floor, or a bed of some sort?"

"A bed. Why?"

"Just curious. Come on, show me."

The teenager rose unsteadily. Maddie climbed to her feet then clung on to the wall as the darkness spun around her. The spinning eased after several deep breaths but didn't entirely go away. She rubbed the sweat off her forehead and wondered what in hell was wrong. Her skin was so cold that everything ached, and yet inside, it felt as if she were burning up. Her head alternated between a pounding ache and a weird, spaced-out sort of sensation, and she wasn't entirely sure which she preferred.

"This way," Teresa said softly.

Walking a few feet had them back into darkness. Another step had her legs bumping into the wooden bed frame. Maddie bent down and swept her hand across the surface. Rough wool met her touch. A blanket. She picked it up, then reached out and caught Teresa by the arm. "Here, wrap this around you."

"It smells," she muttered, but pulled the blanket around herself nevertheless.

The only smell Maddie could make out was unwashed teenager. "I want you to do me a favor, Teresa."

"What?" There was suddenly a great deal of wariness in the girl's voice.

Which was understandable, considering they were both strangers. The kid might want to trust her, but she wasn't a complete fool. "If we hear someone coming, I want you to lie down on this bed and pretend to be asleep. No matter what happens, I don't want you to move or make a sound. Can you do that?"

"Yes." Something in her voice suggested it was a charade she'd already played.

"And if you get the chance, I want you to run as fast as you can out of this place and head down the mountain. Okay?" If this was the same place where Hank had stopped earlier, then there'd be a road for the teenager to find and follow. "A friend of mine should be outside soon, and he'll help you."

"What's his name?"

"Jon." Maddie closed her eyes briefly against the sudden ache in her heart. "Come on, let's get back to the light."

They shuffled back to the bars. Maddie leaned her forehead against them, trying to ignore another wash of weakness. After several deep breaths, she studied the cavern once more.

It was hard to make out any distinct shapes in the uneven light of the sputtering torch. The breeze shivered past her legs, and the smell of snow, citrus and death was heavy in the air.

Her stomach rolled again. She clung to the bars and licked her dry lips. When the world stopped spinning again, she glanced up at the torch. The flames were bending to her right, following the lead of the wind.

"That's the way to run, Teresa," she said, pointing to the left of the cavern. "That's where the breeze is coming from, so there has to be some sort of exit."

The teenager nodded. "She never leaves the door unlocked, though."

"She only needs to get careless once." And the chances of that happening were greater now that everything seemed to be going Eleanor's way.

The sharp rattle of a stone bouncing across the cavern's floor made them both jump in fright.

"Go," Maddie whispered.

Teresa scooted across the darkness and disappeared. Maddie dropped to the floor and half closed her eyes, feigning a look of pain. Which wasn't all that hard, given the sick churning in her stomach.

The footsteps drew closer and changed from the click of claws to the sharp tap of boot heels. Maddie opened her eyes slightly.

"How nice. You're awake," Eleanor drawled as she stopped next the metal bars. "How are you feeling?"

There was no hint of scarring on Eleanor's right hand, no sign that she's ever been burned. And yet, as she dug into her pocket and produced a key, her movements were awkward and stiff.

Had she healed herself with magic, or was she simply presenting an unscarred front? "Does it really matter how I feel?"

Eleanor smiled. It might well have been Death smiling at her. "Of course it matters. Wouldn't want you dying before the boyfriend gets here."

The hint of malice in Eleanor's sharp features ran dread through Maddie's soul. Sweat broke out across her forehead, despite the chill in the cavern. Something was wrong. Not with the situation, but within herself. She licked her lips again and glared up at Eleanor. "What have you done to me?"

Eleanor's laugh was high and unstable. "Let's just say you won't be lighting any funeral pyres for a while—except maybe your own."

Maddie stared at her and repeated, "What have you done to me?" The question was little more than a soft croak, her voice almost strangled by fear. Had Eleanor torn away her firestarting abilities, leaving her no weapon to fight with?

Eleanor smirked. "I've looped your gifts. Try using them on me, and they'll backlash against you." She stopped and studied Maddie critically. "And I'd say that is already happening. Feel a little hot, my dear?"

Maddie resisted the temptation to mop her brow. To be killed by her own fires just when she was beginning to understand them had to be one of the great ironies of all time. "Where's the other teenager?"

"Oh, sleeping close by." She leaned down and carefully slid the key into the lock, her movements awkward. "Come along, my dear. We have much to arrange."

"I'm not going anywhere with you." It sounded almost childish, but Maddie didn't really care. If she couldn't fight, she had to delay. The more Eleanor concentrated on her, the greater chance Teresa had of escaping.

Eleanor sighed. It was a dramatic sound that didn't fit the evil in her dark eyes. "I really haven't the time to play right now. Up."

She made a motion with her right hand, and something whispered across Maddie's neck and jerked tight. She gasped and raised her hands to her neck. There was nothing there but a whisper of icy wind entwining her throat. Panic and terror surged, and sweat dimpled her skin. Maddie briefly closed her eyes and struggled to breathe normally. If she lost control of her gifts, she'd kill herself. And that was one amusement she had no intention of providing the witch.

Eleanor made another pulling motion with her hand, and the wind became a ring of ice that bit deep into Maddie's neck and wrenched her forward.

"Up," Eleanor repeated.

The leash pulled so tightly against her throat she could barely breathe. She scrambled to her feet and the tightness eased, allowing her to drag in great gulps of air. But the sudden movement made the drummer in her head go crazy. Dizziness hit her. She reached for the wall, trying to steady herself.

Eleanor gave her no time to recover, yanking on the leash again. "Come, my dear. The day passes us by, and we have bait to lay."

Her feet felt frozen and half-numb, and her legs were so wobbly they didn't seem strong enough to support her weight. But as she stumbled through the doorway, a fierce sense of elation ran through her.

Eleanor continued to force her forward and didn't stop to re-lock the door.

There was still a chance to fulfil her promise to Evan. All she had to do was keep Eleanor occupied long enough for Teresa to slip away.