Circle Of Fire

Chapter Two

"I need your help. You can see things… I need to know…" Jayne's voice faded into silence.

Maddie closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. After all the years of denials, after all the years of fear, Jayne was not only acknowledging her abilities but also asking for help. It was a miracle Maddie had never thought she'd see, and one that left her oddly frightened.

If Jayne knew, maybe Steve did.

And maybe he knew about Brian, too. She took a deep breath. No, if Steve suspected anything, he would have reported it.

Her thoughts stuttered to a sudden halt. She'd asked Jon for some form of proof, and perhaps this was it. Evan had disappeared, just as he'd predicted.

Jon was real. And dying.

She clenched her fingers against the phone and tried to remain calm. "What do you expect me to do that Steve can't?"

"Steve's restricted by the law, though he's looking… but you're the only one who can… who can help Evan. Only you."

There was an odd certainty in Jayne's voice that made Maddie frown. Maybe she wasn't the only gifted member in the family, after all. "Jayne, my gifts are decidedly unreliable and… well, dangerous." Which had to be the biggest understatement she'd ever made. "I'm willing to try, but Steve's a detective. Surely he—" "No! Maddie, you must look for him. Please, promise me."

The desperation in her sister's voice reminded Maddie of Jon. "Okay, okay. But I'll need to see his room, first." She hesitated, then added. "Does Steve know you're asking me to do this?"

Jayne's silence was answer enough. Maddie closed her eyes. She'd taken to visiting Jayne and Evan when Steve wasn't home. He'd never bothered to mask his opinion of her, and lately that opinion had been openly hostile.

"Maddie, please…"

She sighed. "I'll be there in an hour."

"Thank you," Jayne whispered, and hung up.

Maddie gulped down the remains of her coffee, then turned and ran towards her bedroom. Grabbing an old canvas carryall out from under a pile of sweaters, she threw in everything she thought she might need for the next week. Maybe Jayne was right. Maybe her hated abilities were the only way to find Evan quickly. Even so, she couldn't do it alone.

Once she'd seen Jayne, she was going on down to Taurin Bay to find the man who wasn't a ghost.

Maddie climbed out of the truck and studied Jayne's large, two-story home. It was barely eight-thirty in the morning, but the winter light was so bad it might as well have been early evening. Though the house was lit up like a Christmas tree, the silence that draped it was so heavy she could almost touch it. Maddie counted the windows along the top floor until she found Evan's room. From the outside at least, it showed no sign of forced entry.

She shoved her hands into her pockets and walked up the newly shovelled driveway, trying to ignore the insidious whisper in her mind telling her she should have stayed home—should have stayed safe.

Jayne opened the front door. Her eyes were puffy and red, her face suddenly old without its usual coating of makeup. Maddie stepped up onto the porch then stopped, unsure of what to do next. Jayne was usually the one in control, the one who believed any sign of emotion should be kept out of the public's curious gaze. Even as children, it had been always been Maddie who had lost her temper, Maddie who had cried, never Jayne.

"We should have taken your dream seriously," Jayne said, her gaze not quite meeting Maddie's. "But we didn't listen. Oh God, we just didn't believe…"

Maddie hesitated, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her sister. Jayne stiffened for just a moment, then collapsed against her, sobbing softly.

"I'll find him," Maddie promised. "Somehow, I'll find him."

Jayne sniffed and pulled away. "He hasn't left a note or anything. He's simply vanished."

Vanished. Just as Jon had warned. Maddie shivered. Something told her that if she was to have any hope of finding Evan, she first had to find Jon.

"I need to see the room, Jayne." If Evan had somehow drawn Jon to her, maybe there was something in the teenager's room that would link her back to Evan.

"Okay…" Jayne hesitated then stepped away from the door. "But hurry. Steve will be back at any moment."

He'd be furious to find her in the house—and would take his anger out on Jayne. Not physically, but emotionally. From what Maddie had observed, it was, in some ways, tougher to handle.

How had the two of them managed to marry men so like their father?

She clomped up the stairs, stripping off her coat as she approached Evan's room. The house was unusually warm—odd, given Steve's belief that it made better sense to put on a sweater than turn up the heat.

Nothing had changed in her nephew's room from the last time she'd seen it, three weeks before. Posters of rock bands and scantily clad woman still vied for space on the walls. His clothes were strewn all over the floor, and the football she'd given him for his last birthday still held pride of place on his overcrowded bookshelves.

And yet there was one difference—the smell. Maddie frowned as she tried to place it. It was burnt ash, mud, and a soft hint of citrus, all rolled into one. An odd and unpleasant scent that made her stomach roll.

She blinked back the sudden sting of tears. She had to find Evan. He couldn't die. He was all that stood between her and the utter loneliness of her life.

Biting her lip, she walked across to the windows. White dust covered much of the frame, highlighting the fingerprints. But as Jon had warned, there was no sign at all that the windows had been forced. Both were still key-locked.

She turned away. The odd smell grew stronger, became a cloud that encased her in sweetness and decay and darkness. She groped blindly for the nearby dresser. Oh God, she thought, it's happening again.

Her fingers brushed against something cool and metallic—the gold chain Evan had bought with the cash he'd received for his birthday. Maybe, just maybe, she could use it to try to control the direction of the dream. As the room spun around her, she squeezed the chain into her palm and hung on tight.

For several heartbeats, darkness encased her mind. Then pinpoints of light danced through the gloom, slivers that gradually lifted the darkness. Around her, she saw the rough wooden walls of a small cabin.

Two small forms lay huddled on the dusty floor, wrapped in blankets that hid their faces from sight. One of them was Evan—she could just see the gleam of his red-gold hair.

The vision swirled slightly, and the shadows moved. A slender figure walked across the room, features hidden by a large coat and hood. It bent and lovingly touched the form lying beside Evan. A chill ran through Maddie. It was a woman's hand, and yet it had the claws of a panther.

"By the light of the new moon," the woman said, her sultry tones oddly tremulous. "Your youth will become my youth."

A hand touched Maddie's shoulder. With a small squeak of fright, she spun around. Jayne stared at her, glassy eyes widening in surprise.

"I didn't mean to scare you," she said softly.

Maddie licked her lips. "Sorry. Just a bit jumpy." She hesitated, noting the slightly pinched look around her sister's mouth. "What's wrong?"

"Steve just called. He's on his way home, and he wants to talk to you."

Maddie swore under her breath. Trust her sister to mention she was here. "I can't, Jayne. He'll want to know how I knew Evan was in danger, and he won't believe me when I tell him."

Jayne nodded, though Maddie could see the uncertainty in her sister's eyes. Despite her earlier statements, Jayne still wasn't entirely sure whether to believe her or not, either.

"Okay, then. It usually takes him five minutes or so to get here from the station. If you hurry, you might avoid him."

She squeezed her sister's hands tightly. "I'll find Evan, Jayne. I'll bring him back." Somehow.

Jayne gave her a wan smile. Maddie stepped back, then stopped, her gaze caught by the brief flash of gold on the dresser. Evan's chain. She must have dropped it when Jayne touched her shoulder. Had holding it helped the vision's direction? Maddie suspected it had, if only because it was the first time she'd ever actually seen something she'd wanted to. Usually the dreams took their own course. Maybe if she took the chain with her, she might be able to use it to help find Evan.

Not giving herself time to doubt, she brushed the chain into her hand then followed her sister down the stairs.

The old truck rattled to life at the second turn of the key, which was something of a miracle. She reversed out of the driveway then turned north. It was time to go find herself a real live ghost.

Maddie put her foot on the brakes, then winced at the squeal of metal grating against metal. The brake pads had needed replacing for some time now, but it was a task she'd hoped to put off until she'd sold the next lot of roses.

But hours of driving—the last one up and down steep mountainsides—had quickly rearranged her priorities. If she made it down this road in one piece, she was going to get them fixed as soon as possible.

At least the bright lights of Taurin Bay were finally visible below. Though now that she was nearly there, she wasn't entirely sure what she should do next. For a start, she had to find the Sherbrook Inn, but she also had to find Jon—and quickly. Heavy snowfalls were predicted within the next twenty-four hours.

She remembered his face the last time she'd seen him—so pale and tired. If she didn't find him soon, it might be too late. At least Evan had the heavy layer of blankets to protect him from the cold.

A graceful bridge of latticed metal arched across the mouth of a wide river and swept her into Taurin Bay, where a familiar yellow sign caught her attention. She pulled into the drive-through, collecting a hamburger and the directions to the Sherbrook.

The inn was a large, square-fronted, Victorian-style house painted in pale pinks and grays. She stopped the truck and leaned against the steering wheel, studying the house.

Maybe staying here wasn't such a wise move. Jon had and had ended up down a well. Someone had obviously suspected he was here to find the missing teenagers and had tried to stop him. Would they suspect her as well?

The thought made her snort. Jon had called her ordinary and, outwardly at least, he was right. Why would anyone suspect she was anything more than a tourist? Besides, she had to stay somewhere, and most of the motels along the way had been full—not surprising with the early onset of the ski season.

She dragged her bag off the back seat and headed for the inn. The small foyer was empty when she entered, but a bell chimed softly in the distance. She shut the door and studied the room. The walls were covered in pale gold and silver wallpaper, and the window next to the front door draped with rich, burgundy curtains. An open fire blazed brightly in the sitting room to her left, lending a golden gleam to the empty plush velvet and mahogany chairs forming a semicircle around it.

The inn looked expensive. A weeklong stay would put a serious dent in her savings, but that was a small price to pay if she found Evan—and Jon—in one piece.

"Hello."

Maddie jerked her gaze back to the desk. A man stood in the doorway just behind it, his smile warm and friendly.

"Hank Stewart. I'm the night manager here," he continued, stepping forward. "How may I help you?"

She eyed him warily. Though his voice held nothing beyond politeness, something about him made her uneasy. "Do you have a room available for a couple of days?"

He opened the book in front on the desk, then nodded. "We have the Captain's quarters available at the moment."

It was his eyes, she decided when he looked up. Something unfavorable lurked in the mud-colored depths of his eyes.

She swallowed and pulled her gaze away. "How much is it?"

"It's our top room. One fifteen a night."

She winced but signed the register. Picking up her bag, she followed him along the hall and up the stairs.

The Captain's quarters turned out to be a suite comprised of a bedroom, a lounge and a large bathroom—all ornately furnished.

"Feel free to call if you need anything," he said, smiling as he gave her the key.

His fingers brushed hers, hot and yet clammy. She shuddered and pulled her hand away.

"If you want to go out tonight, just let me know," he continued. "I usually lock the door after eleven, unless we've guests still out."

She hesitated and glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven now. Who knew how long it would take her to find Jon's well. "I do have plans to go out for a while."

He nodded. "Anything else?"

"Is there a map of the area I can use?"

"Over on the mantle," he said and walked away.

She firmly closed and locked the door behind him, then leaned her forehead against it for a moment. Her whole body was trembling, and she suddenly felt sick. Over what? A man with strange brown eyes who'd offered her no threat in anything he'd said or done. I'm no good at this sort of thing. I should have stayed home.

She took a deep breath, then walked over to the mantle. Spreading the map out on the coffee table, she knelt to study it.

Jon had given her a fairly good description of the area where he'd fallen into the well. All she had to do was remember it—not an easy thing when she'd been so petrified by his appearance that first time.

She traced the lines of roads with her fingers until she found one that sounded familiar. She followed it along 'til it went through a state forest. That was it. That was the area.

After rolling up the map, she collected the room key and headed downstairs. The night air was cold, and the wind carried the hint of snow. Maddie glanced up. The stars had disappeared behind a wall of clouds. She hoped the snow held off—not just for Jon's sake, but Evan's as well. The teenagers might have blankets to keep them warm, but there'd been no sign of a fire in the old cabin. If bad weather moved in, they might freeze to death before anyone found them.

She just had to hope Jon's directions—or her memories of them—were accurate. The last thing she wanted was to drive around for hours. Every second was vital if she was to find Evan alive, of that much she was certain.

But if someone had shot Jon, there was no telling how accurate his directions were—though he'd seemed pretty lucid whenever he'd appeared before her.

Just how in the hell had he appeared, anyway? What was that? Some form of astral travel? Wasn't that the stuff of fairy tales? She snorted softly. Yeah right, just like the ability to light fires with a thought was just a fairy tale.

And in the end, did it matter? He could have horns and sprout wings, and she wouldn't give a damn. Not if he helped her find Evan.

She'd been the cause of far too much grief in her family in the past. Maybe now she had a chance to redeem herself.

She started the truck, then glanced at the street map one more time before driving off. Twenty minutes later she was back in the mountains. The road's incline grew steeper, and pines began to crowd the edges. It didn't seem the area in which to find a well, yet oddly enough, it did seem the type of area Jon would enjoy. Strange how she had gleaned so much from the few hours they'd been together.

She drove through the gates that designated the beginning of the state forest. The road became a dirt track several yards in. She slowed. If she'd read the map right, there was a small turnoff half a mile ahead. It would take her right past the shared fence line of the old farm Jon had mentioned.

The turn came up faster than she expected. She swung the steering wheel hard. Saplings slapped against the windows, and something hard scraped along the body of the truck. Heart pounding rapidly, she straightened the truck and slowed down even further. The headlights picked out the fine strands of wire running parallel to the road just ahead.

She stopped and got out. An owl hooted in the distance, a haunting sound in the silence. The chill breeze spun around her, stirring the pine branches above her head and whipping thick strands of hair away from her ponytail. She caught the flyaway ends, tucking them under the collar of her jacket, then studied the fields before her. Somehow, it felt right. She couldn't explain how or why, but she knew that Jon was here somewhere. Either that, or she was finally going mad.

She grimaced. That was still a very real possibility. After all, here she was in the middle of nowhere, trusting the words of a man who might yet prove to be a ghost.

She grabbed the flashlight and locked the truck. The fence was a mix of plain and barbed wire. After climbing through carefully, she studied the dark field. Where was the most logical position for a well? She swung the light from left to right but couldn't see any possibilities close. But in the distance she could see the dark outline of several buildings. The old farmhouse, maybe? It was as good a place as any to look for a well.

It took five minutes of tramping through the overgrown field to reach the outbuildings. To the right of what looked to have been a barn was an odd-shaped mound of stone. Her heart leapt, and she ran towards it. Please, please, let this be it…

She slid to a stop and leaned over the uneven wall. The knobby edges of the stone dug into her stomach as she directed the flashlight into the well. Deep down in the darkness, gold flickered.

"Jon?" She waited anxiously for an answer, but nothing came. Maybe he was unconscious. "Jon!"

This time something stirred. She leaned over the edge a little more, desperate to catch any noise.

"Jon!" Her voice echoed. After a moment, she heard a soft groan. He was down there all right, but he had to be awake if she was going to help him. She couldn't get him out of the well on her own. "Answer me, damn it!"

"Madeline?" His soft question was harsh with disbelief.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she blinked them away quickly. Crying wouldn't help anyone. It certainly wouldn't help him out of the well. "I'm here. I've got some rope in the truck. I'll go get it, but you have to stay awake, okay?"

He grunted or groaned in reply—she wasn't sure which. She ran back across the field, the flashlight weaving uneasy patterns through the darkness ahead. She hesitated when she reached the fence. Was there a gate somewhere, or would she have to cut the wire? The light reflected oddly on something to her right—someone had looped the wire loosely around a pole. Once undone, the gap would be wide enough to drive the truck through.

She quickly undid the wire. The last strand snapped away from her grasp, tearing at her fingertips and palm. She swore and shook the blood away as she ran back to the truck.

Maybe it sensed her urgency, because the engine roared to life the second she turned the key. She reversed out of the clearing and drove down the road until she saw the gap in the fence. Changing gears, she headed into the field, the truck bumping and lurching over the rough ground.

She stopped near the well. Leaving the headlights on and the engine idling, she scrambled out and ran back to the well.

"Jon?" she called, leaning over the edge again. Stone shifted underneath her, and several rocks fell down into the darkness. Water splashed.

"Here," he called, his voice stronger than before. "Stop throwing things at me."

She smiled, and yet his comment made her uneasy. What sort of man made jokes in a situation like this?

A man who was used to being in dangerous situations, that's who. Just how wise was it to get involved with this man? While she had no doubt she'd need his help, she knew nothing about him. Not even if she could trust him.

"Still with me, Madeline?"

There was a hint of tension in his voice, as if he'd sensed her sudden doubts. She nodded, then remembered he couldn't see her. "Yes. If I throw a rope down, will you be able to tie it around you?"

"Yes."

She ran back to the truck and hauled the rope out of the box in the back. She wasted several minutes trying to secure one end of the rope to the front of the truck, then ran back to the well.

"I'm lowering the rope." She fed the hemp into the well, but her gaze was drawn to the dark outline of the old homestead. Had something moved, or was it just a trick of the light?

"Got it," Jon said.

The sudden sound of his voice made her start. "Tell me when you're ready, and I'll reverse the truck to haul you up." She watched the rope dance around and wished he'd hurry. The feeling that someone was watching them was growing—or was it simply a case of bad nerves?

"Ready."

She climbed into the truck and shifted into reverse, grinding the gears in her haste. Wincing, she slowly backed up. The need to hurry, to get out of this area as fast as she could, was growing. She bit her lip, trying to ignore it. It didn't matter what was out there watching them. She had to get Jon out of this well.

And if she backed up too quickly, she might just kill him.

When the top part of his body was visible, she pulled on the hand brake and climbed out.

"Not a trip I'd recommend," he gasped, looking up at her as she approached.

He was a mess. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his face was white with pain. His whole body was trembling, even though he was doing little more than simply hanging on to the edge of the well. She grabbed his right leg, helping him over. He fell, more than rolled, to the ground.

"We have to get out of here." She knelt beside him and undid the rope. He was so cold his fingers were almost blue. She undid her jacket and placed it around his shoulders.

He gave her a wan smile of thanks. "You have to… to do something first." He closed his eyes and leaned back against the well.

"What?" she asked, rubbing her arms as the wind whipped around her.

"Remove the shaft from my arm."

She'd seen the wound as she'd helped him over the edge of the well, and that was about as close as she wanted to get. His whole arm had swollen, and the handkerchief he'd wrapped around the wound was a bloody mess. She'd risk causing more damage if she tried to do anything other than getting him to a doctor. "No. I can't."

He grabbed her wrist when she tried to rise. "Madeline, you have to take it out. I can't last much longer."

There was something more than urgency in his voice. She fought the instinct to pull away from his touch and wrapped her fingers around his instead, offering him the warmth of her hand. Warily, she met his gaze. In the blue depths of his eyes she saw a hint of desperation—and a pain that went far deeper than anything she'd ever faced.

She tore her gaze away and shone the light towards the farmhouse again. Though she'd seen no movement nor heard any unusual sound, something was out there watching them. They had to get out of this area quickly. She glanced back at Jon and felt something tremble inside.

"I don't think we're safe." She hesitated, her gaze drawn back to the shadows. "I'll remove the damn thing if you want, but I won't do it here."

Jon bit back the urge to swear and nodded, reluctantly releasing her hand. What she said was true enough. While he couldn't hear anyone in the immediate area, he knew someone was bound to see the headlights sooner or later and investigate. Better they left before anyone got too curious.

He just had to hope moving around didn't drive the shaft and its deadly splinters too much deeper or he'd be in real trouble.

Maddie put her shoulder under his, lending him her strength as he tried to rise. His foot slipped out from underneath him, and he dropped heavily. She cursed, her breath warm against his ear as she went down with him. The shattered end of the arrow scraped against rock, and he bit back a groan. Heat flashed through his body. He gulped down air, fighting the rush of dizziness.

She had to take the arrow out. The white ash shaft was killing him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice full of concern and a slight edge of panic.

"Not your fault." He opened his eyes, desperate to find something, anything, to distract him from the pain.

Her face was close to his, and in the harshness of the headlights, her hair seemed afire. She wasn't what he'd expected. Smaller and slimmer than she'd first appeared, she surrounded him with the rich scent of roses. And fear. He couldn't tell if she was more afraid of the situation or of him.

"We have to get moving," she said softly. Her fingers twitched against his shoulder, her touch light yet warm.

He followed the direction of her gaze. Something stirred in the shadows, a whisper of movement accompanied by the slightest hint of a footfall. The smell of magic whispered across the wind, tainting the cold night air.

They had to get out of this field. He couldn't afford to find trouble now, when Maddie was in the firing line. She'd risked enough just getting him out of the well.

But he couldn't let her go before she'd removed the arrow.

They reached the truck. Maddie opened the door with her free hand. He grabbed the top of the door for support and pulled himself in, half falling across the seat as he tried to avoid catching the edge of the shaft again. He struggled upright and watched her wind up the rope at the front of the trunk.

There was another hint of movement in the shadows beyond her. He frowned, eyes narrowing. There was something awfully familiar in that momentary flicker, something that sent a chill racing through his body.

Again the shadows moved, and this time he saw it. The creature was big and black and moved on four legs.

And it was no animal.