Circle Of Fire

Chapter Eighteen

"Is now the right time to admit that I don't really know that much about witchcraft?" Mack hauled his coat collar up around his neck, leaned his hip against the car, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

Jon smiled grimly. The FBI agent looked like a man suddenly facing the gates of Hell. And it was probably a fair estimation of what awaited them.

"Eleanor's not really a witch. She's a sorcerer. Next step up the ladder." He stopped carving the end of the small white-ash branch and held it up to the light. A few more cuts, and his makeshift dagger would be ready.

Mack turned and studied the trees, his face giving little away. But Jon could feel his unease, saw the shadow snaking through the FBI agent's usually confident aura.

"You suddenly don't seem in so much of a hurry," Mack said.

Jon made a few final cuts along the limb, then put it down to join the other half dozen near his feet.

"That's because I know what Eleanor is capable of, and I have no intention of going up there unarmed."

Which is why he'd made Mack detour past the cabin they'd found Evan in on their way up here. He needed the supplies locked in the back of his truck.

Mack patted his shoulder. "I have a gun, you know. And backup is on its way."

"Eleanor can change shape quicker than you can shoot." He stood up and flexed his leg. The knife wound throbbed in protest, but he could move around fairly normally, and that was all that mattered. "As for your backup, they have five minutes, then I'm off."

"Don't be a fool, Barnett. You can't go after this woman alone if you want the kid or your Maddie to survive."

Your Maddie.The phrase whispered through his mind, soothing the lonely ache in his soul. Only she wasn't his Maddie and never could be. He angrily snatched up the white ash daggers near his feet.

"Take these and keep them safe," he said, handing Mack four of the weapons. "They'll protect you from Eleanor when all else fails."

Mack raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And how will these crudely carved bits of wood do this?"

"They're made of white ash. It's an ancient wood deadly to shapeshifters." He dragged his black bag off the car hood and rummaged around inside until he found the small metal medallion Seline had given him.

"So white ash can kill you?"

Jon glanced up sharply. "Yes, it can. Why? Plan to use it when this is all over?"

Mack gave him his sharklike grin. "Arrest you, maybe. Kill you, no." He hesitated and glanced past Jon.

"The cavalry just arrived."

Jon looked over his shoulder and saw the three police vehicles pull to a halt. Mack strode across to the first car and began a hurried conversation with the driver. Jon listened for a few moments, then turned his attention back to the medallion in his hand. Looped with a shoelace, and so black with age that he couldn't make out the markings that surrounded the blue-green stone at its heart, it certainly didn't look like an amulet that would protect him from the worst of Eleanor's magic. But Seline had assured him it would work, and she usually didn't promise what she couldn't give.

He slid the amulet around his neck, then bent and placed two of the white ash daggers in his boots. The third he slid into the loop he'd sown inside his jacket.

His gaze ran back to the mountain peak lost in the mist and the trees above them. Maddie was up there somewhere, cold and alone and probably terrified. His fault, no one else's.

He dragged up the zipper on his jacket and marched across to Mack. "Time to get moving."

Mack raised an eyebrow in surprise, but nodded. "How do you want to play it?"

"Send four men up the trail by that pine. The others follow the trail to our right." Both trails were little more than wild goose chases, but they would keep the policemen from interfering too soon. And probably keep them alive in the process. He met Mack's knowing gaze steadily. "You and I will take the trail near the creek."

"You know the drill," Mack growled to the men. "Let's move." Jon turned and walked across to Mack's car, grabbing Maddie's backpack from the back seat. She'd need something warm to change into once he'd rescued her. The soft hint of roses spun around him as he put it on.

"Hope you know what you're doing." Mack's gaze was on the shadow-wrapped trail ahead of them.

"So do I," Jon muttered grimly. Because if he didn't, they were all dead meat.

The flames burned high but without any heat. Grayish-green smoke rose, curling lazily towards the stormy sky but fading into the mist long before it reached the treetops.

But the illusion of heat was better than nothing. Maddie huddled a bare foot away from the fire, stamping half frozen feet in an effort to keep warm. Mud squished up between her toes and splattered up her legs.

It felt clammy, reminding her of Hank's touch. She licked her lips and thrust the image away. At least the mud protected some of her from the wind's sharpness.

Across the clearing, the entrance to the cave sat in darkness. There had been no movement in those shadows as yet, and Maddie hoped Teresa hadn't gone back to sleep.

"They're close. I can feel them." Eleanor's whisper held a hint of excitement. "They have the child."

A sick sensation rose to the back of her throat. She briefly closed her eyes and tried to swallow it away.

Surely Jon wouldn't risk Evan's life to save hers.

She had a sudden image of the harsh, almost savage look in his eyes when he'd left her to find Hank, and ran a shaking hand through her matted hair. In some ways, it was frightening to realize she just didn't know what he was capable of.

She stared at Eleanor. The pale orange and blue flames made the sorcerer's sharp features look almost skeletal. "Why do you need Evan? You have Teresa—isn't one child's death enough?"

Eleanor's gaze didn't waver from the luminous star she was drawing in the mud, but her contempt whipped around Maddie, as sharp as a slap.

"Once it was, but now my need is greater."

"Is that why you've taken so many children over the last year or so?"

Eleanor gave a quick nod, her attention still on the star. "Once upon a time I only had to sacrifice every six months. Now it is every month."

Maddie wondered why her need had become so desperate that she now had to kill two children a month. And where had Hank fit into all this? Eleanor stood up and brushed the mud from her hands. The star at her feet glowed fiercely for several seconds, then quickly faded. She smiled and turned her attention back to Maddie.

"Now, for the final trap."

Maddie took a step away from the flames—and Eleanor. The invisible band pinched hard against her throat, and it became difficult to breathe again. Sweat trickled down the side of her face. She didn't need Eleanor's fire to provide any heat—she had her own. And it was a fire that was steadily growing.

"Don't," she gasped, more as a reminder to herself than a plea to Eleanor. The squeezing eased, regardless, and Maddie licked cracked lips. She had to keep Eleanor talking. Had to hope Teresa had found the courage to leave the cell and escape. "I just want to ask a question."

Eleanor smiled. It seemed to sharpen her features and make her look more like a cat than ever. "We have some time up our sleeve. Ask away."

"Just tell me why you're doing all this? Why do you, an obviously beautiful and powerful young woman, need teenagers?"

Eleanor's dark gaze glittered with amusement. "Flattery earns you a few more minutes of freedom. As to the children, they are literally my life, my bloodline."

Maddie frowned, not sure whether the fuzzy ache in her head or the fire racing through her veins was responsible for her total lack of comprehension. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Then let me demonstrate."

Eleanor waved her hand. The smoke drifting across the clearing spun towards her, encasing her body from sight for several seconds. When it disappeared, Eleanor was gone, replaced by a withered, hunched-back figure.

"This is my true self." The crone's voice was high and shaky, but undoubtedly Eleanor's. Something in its tone still whispered of seduction and evil.

"This is how I will look by midnight if I do not take the virgin blood I need to sustain my life and looks."

The smoke performed its gentle dance, and the more youthful Eleanor reappeared. "As you might guess, I prefer my current form."

"Was Hank like you?"

"Hank lived through me. I was his life, his bloodline. Of course, even I couldn't protect the fool from a wound inflicted by silver. He really should have known better than to carry such a weapon."

Movement flickered in the darkness behind Eleanor. Maddie fought the sudden rush of excitement and terror. Teresa had found the courage to move out of the cell, but all Eleanor had to do was turn slightly, and she'd see the teenager as plain as day. "Surely a sorcerer can find a better way to sustain her looks than killing innocent children."

Teresa was easing around the edge of the cavern entrance, a ragged white shape framed in the cold fire's flickering light.

"There is nothing as powerful as blood magic, and only blood magic can sustain me now." Eleanor raised an eyebrow and studied Maddie critically. "How old do you think I am?"

The crone had looked at least a hundred years old, but something in Eleanor's tone suggested the number was higher. Much higher. "I really have no idea."

Teresa crept past the entrance of the cavern and disappeared into the trees. Maddie didn't relax.

Couldn't afford to when the woman standing opposite her could take the shape of a panther and easily catch the fleeing teenager.

"My dear, I am five hundred and twenty-two years old. Hold it well, don't I?"

Maddie blinked. Five hundred and twenty-two years old? No wonder the woman was mad—she'd watched the entire world change around her while she remained the same.

"What about Hank? How old was he?"

"He was younger by several hundred years. It took me a while to find a man who was both trainable and, shall we say, as bloodthirsty, as me."

The sound of a branch snapping whipped across the clearing, as sharp as a gunshot. Eleanor spun around and stared into the trees.

Maddie waited tensely, listening to the silence and hoping Teresa had the good sense not to move. After several long heartbeats, Eleanor turned back.

"As much as I have enjoyed our little chat, it's time to move. Our guests are approaching."

Something in Eleanor's dark gaze made Maddie retreat a step. Eleanor smiled and waved her left hand casually. Ice snapped across Maddie's skin and held her tight. She couldn't move, could only watch as Eleanor made another motion with her hand and encased her in a wide circle of fire.

"Now, for my masterpiece." The flames parted as Eleanor walked through them, like slaves bowing before their master. "But I'm afraid you won't be around to see it."

The witch waved a hand. Maddie's silent scream was lost as the darkness encased her mind.

"Don't move," Jon warned softly.

He knelt down and studied the trail ahead. Something didn't feel right.

He picked up the rock near his feet and lobbed it ten feet ahead. There was a slight tremor in the bushes to his left, and a swoosh of air as an arrow imbedded itself into the tree trunk to their right. He watched it quiver lightly in the mottled light of the forest. White ash, just like the one that had landed him in the well.

And, in an odd sort of way, sent him Maddie.

"Placed to injure, not kill," Mack commented softly.

Jon nodded and picked up another rock, lobbing it farther ahead. Another arrow thudded into a tree.

"Just in case the first one missed." A third rock had no effect.

He glanced back down the trail and frowned. A whisper of movement told him they were being followed. Mack's men, probably. It certainly didn't feel like Eleanor. Besides, the witch wouldn't make any noise.

He turned his attention back to the trail ahead. He couldn't feel any more traps. "Looks safe to move on."

He rose and led the way forward. No more arrows thudded out of trees to greet them—in fact, the trail seemed entirely too easy. He'd expected Eleanor to play with him a bit more, yet he was over half way up the mountain and so far had only a few poorly placed arrows to contend with.

Worry snaked through his gut. Something was wrong.

Ahead, a branch snapped, a sharp sound that seemed to echo through the unnatural silence of the forest.

He stopped quickly, listening. For several seconds there was no further sound, then he heard a soft, fearful sob. Even as hope rose, he squashed it. The sob didn't belong to Maddie—it was much too young sounding. Eleanor would have no doubt ensured the mountain was empty of human habitation—she certainly couldn't afford to have strangers wandering into the middle of her blood sacrifice, fouling the magic. Which meant the person he could hear just might be the kidnapped girl. From the sound of it, she was heading down the trail towards them.

"Trouble?" Mack asked quietly, his hand hovering near his gun.

"Someone's running towards us—someone who's frightened and unsteady on their feet. It just might be our missing kid."

Mack raised his eyebrow. "You can tell all this standing here?"

Jon gave him a grim smile. "I can. And so can Eleanor, if she's as close as we are. Let's move."

They scrambled up the trail, ducking low-hanging branches and trying to make as little noise as possible.

Jon leapt over a slime-encrusted rock, but his footing slipped coming down, and he landed awkwardly.

A needle-hot lance of pain ran up his leg. He swore softly and limped on for several more steps then stopped and grabbed at his leg.

Mack did a quick sidestep to avoid running into him. "Problem?"

"Tore my damn leg open again." Blood was beginning to seep through his jeans and past his fingers. It was a smell that would attract a hunter like Eleanor, if she were anywhere nearby.

Mack took a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it out. "Here, use this."

He accepted it with a grunt of thanks, and quickly tied it around the wound, tightening it as much as he dared. A soft gasp made him glance up. Not ten feet away stood a thin, pale girl. He might have thought her little more than a wraith except for the heaving of her chest, the sharp tang of fear in the turbulent swirl of her emotions.

Mack's sudden stillness suggested the FBI agent had also spotted her.

Jon didn't dare move. If either of them did, he sensed she'd run. "Teresa?"

The girl nodded once, dark eyes wide as her gaze flitted between the two of them. "Is one of you Jon?"

"I am." He straightened carefully, the knot in his stomach suddenly more painful than his leg. To know his name the teenager had to have been talking to Maddie. Which meant Maddie had somehow helped her escape, but at what cost to herself? "This is Mack, from the FBI."

"You have to get me out here. She's up there, she'll come after me…" Teresa glanced quickly up the trail then took a few stumbling steps towards them. "Please, we have to get out of here."

Her gaze was wide and terrified, dark eyes glassy. Running on sheer terror, he thought, and shared a grim look with Mack. "You take her down. I'll continue on."

"You can't take on Eleanor alone and expect to win."

"I know." He raked a hand through his hair and glanced up the trail. Maddie was up there, somewhere.

And he sensed her time was running out. "I know your men aren't far behind us. Take the girl to them then come back up. But remember, Eleanor is a shapeshifter. Don't trust any animal you see in this forest."

Mack raised his eyebrow. "Not even a hawk?"

"Especially a hawk," Jon said grimly. "I won't be shapeshifting to fight Eleanor, so it won't be me you see."

Mack nodded, then squatted, making himself a less formidable sight to the frightened teenager. "Let's get you down the mountain and see what we can do to find your mom and dad."

Tears misted the teenager's eyes. She edged forward, timidly taking Mack's hand when he held it out.

"Please, we have to hurry," she whispered, casting another fearful look up the mountain.

"Don't you worry about that old witch. Jon will take care of her."

His gaze met Jon's for a moment, and Jon smiled grimly. It wasn't hard to guess at the unspoken words in Mack's mind. I hope.

Mack and the girl headed back down the mountain. Jon gave the blood-soaked handkerchief a tug, testing its tightness, then glanced up the trail. Teresa hadn't looked strong enough to make it too far on her own. Eleanor and Maddie couldn't be far away. He just had to hope his leg would hold out until he got there.

Fifteen minutes later, he leaned against the twisted wreck of an old pine and struggled to see past the sweat stinging his eyes.

Maddie was a mere fifty feet away, but it might as well have been a thousand. She lay on the ground, arms outstretched. He couldn't see if she was tied. Couldn't see if she was awake or hurt. Could barely even see her through the ring of pale flame that surrounded her.

Trying to ignore the painful twist in his gut, he let his gaze travel around the clearing. There was no sign of Eleanor, but she had to be near. The taint of magic hung so heavily in the air it was making him sick.

Or was that fear?

His gaze was drawn back to Maddie. Had she moved? Did she know he was near?

He pushed away from the tree and wiped the sweat from his eyes. An almost expectant hush hung across the clearing. Beyond the strange colored flames, there was nothing that might indicate the trap that had to be waiting. He smiled grimly, his gaze drawn back to the trees on the opposite side of the clearing.

Eleanor was there somewhere, waiting and watching.

Why make her wait any longer than necessary? The only way to discover what the witch planned was to walk straight into her trap—and hope Seline hadn't underestimated the amulet's power.

He dropped Maddie's pack near the base of the tree, then limped into the clearing. A shiver of anticipation seemed to run through the air. He listened for any sound that might indicate an attack, but kept his gaze on the figure lying in the center of the flames. Still no movement, no sound from Maddie.

He stopped three feet away from the flames. A tingle ran from the ground and up his body, and the amulet sprang to life, burning fiercely against his throat. He glanced down. He'd stepped into some sort of star drawn into the ground. Magic. But what had Eleanor intended it to do?

Laughter, high and unstable, shattered the silence. Eleanor stepped out of the trees, a predatory smile dominating her thin features.

"I thought you'd be a tougher catch, Shapeshifter." She brushed a long strand of hair away from her face with a hand that alternated between burned and unburned flesh.

He frowned. The burned hand was obviously Maddie's work, but why was the witch wasting energy to cover it up? Vanity, perhaps? "Maybe you've overestimated me."

Eleanor's dark eyes were watchful despite her triumphant air. "Oh, I doubt that very much." She hesitated, her face surreal in the odd light of the pale orange flames. "Perhaps you'd best rid yourself of those white ash daggers you have in your boots."

Electricity raced up his legs from the ground, swirling around his body like a cord, yet never really touching him. He sensed it was somehow meant to make him obey. That he didn't surely had to indicate the amulet burning against his throat was working. He bent and slowly took out the two daggers from his boots, then tossed them to one side. For the moment, at least, it was better to let Eleanor think she had him in her power. He left the smaller dagger hidden in his coat. Eleanor didn't mention it, so maybe she couldn't sense it through the leather.

"Let Maddie go, Eleanor. She's of no use to you."

Eleanor was the image of a cat playing with its prey. "I can't set her free, Shapeshifter, but you can."

He raised his eyebrows, feigning unconcern despite the churning in his gut. "How, when you have me pinned to this spot?"

Eleanor's smile widened, which meant his guess was right. The star was meant to do nothing more than temporarily immobilize him.

"There's no fun in defeating an enemy who cannot move. You will be free soon enough."

Eleanor was too calm and Maddie too still. Sweat trickled down his back. The whole situation seemed out of whack and way beyond his control. "Then what will stop me from ripping out your heart, witch?"

"Oh, you can try, but the price will be your lover's death."

His gaze ran back to Maddie. Despite the chill in the air, her slender body was flushed with heat. It burned across her skin, beacon bright against the cold flames surrounding her. Sweat beaded her forehead and darkened her burnished hair. Even her T-shirt clung damply to her skin. The pale flames surrounding her held no warmth, so why was she so hot?

He met Eleanor's gaze and saw the uneasy mix of amusement and cruelty in the dark depths of her eyes.

The witch wanted them all to pay—him for his interference, Maddie for burning her hand… His heart gave a sickening lurch. Maddie was a firestarter. The heat was internal.

He flexed his fingers. "Let her go, Eleanor, and I am yours."

Her responding smile was little more than a sharp snarl. Her form was blurring, shifting shape, becoming something less than human—but not quite catlike. "She has five minutes, Shapeshifter." Her voice was a purr, deep and menacing. "But to rescue her, you must defy my spell and then defeat me."

Blood trickled down his leg; its sweet smell seemed to hang heavily in the air. The craving in Eleanor's inhuman gaze grew stronger.

"What spell?" he asked, watching her form shiver and darken, becoming more catlike with every passing heartbeat.

"The flames, Shapeshifter. They will take the essence of your soul." Her sharp smile was little more than the snarl of a panther. "They will take your shapeshifting abilities from you."

"No…" The denial escaped before he could stop it. He was a shapeshifter —it wasn't just a gift, like Maddie's fire starting, or a product of magic, as were Eleanor's shapeshifting abilities. It was an integral part of what he was. It couldn't be ripped away without killing him.

"It won't destroy you, Shapeshifter." Her voice had become little more than a rough growl, her shape a breath away from the panther. She was retaining only enough humanity to speak. "That would be too easy. You must pay for the trouble you have caused me. Pay with pain."

Her paws hit the ground, and with another snarl, she sprang. Not away from the flames, but into them—straight at Maddie.

"No!" He leapt forward, hitting the flames. Pain ripped through his body, tore the scream away from his throat. For a frightening heartbeat there was nothing but emptiness, then he hit the ground and darkness invaded his world.