Circle Of Fire

Chapter Three

Jon twisted around in the seat, trying to find Maddie. They needed to move before the creature became too curious. It might be nothing more than a coincidence that it had appeared in the same field he'd been shot in, but there was no sense in chancing it.

Something slammed in the back of the truck, then Maddie opened the driver's side door and climbed in.

He curbed the urge to tell her to hurry and looked out the window instead. The creature no longer sat in the shadows. Maybe it had lost interest in them and moved on. He smiled grimly. The chances of that happening are about as high as me flying right now…

Maddie ground the gears, and the truck jerked forward. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, fighting his need to sleep. There was a lot he had to do. He couldn't afford to sleep yet.

Again, the faint hint of roses surrounded him. He smiled slightly. It was a scent that suited her. The rose was a beautiful flower, yet its stem was covered with such prickly thorns. He had a feeling much the same could be said about Madeline.

The truck slid to a sudden stop, and he was jerked forward, then back, abruptly. He clutched his arm and swore softly.

"Sorry." She barely glanced his way as she scrambled out. "Have to do up the fence."

"Leave it," he said through gritted teeth, but he was speaking to air. "Damn."

He rolled down the window and leaned out, looking for her. And saw the cat in the distance, its shape indistinct in the night as it sauntered towards them.

"Madeline, get back in the truck." He kept his voice low, not wanting to scare her or spur the cat into action.

She stopped looping the wire and turned towards him. Though he couldn't see her features clearly, he felt the leap of fear through her body. She was ready to run, but she didn't, and he thanked the gods for sending him a sensible woman.

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"Just get in the truck," he repeated, his gaze never leaving the creature.

"But—" She hesitated, then dropped the wire and walked back quickly.

The cat stopped, watching them for several seconds before it turned and sauntered back towards the dark outlines of the homestead. Had it lost interest, or had it found what it was looking for? He sensed it was the latter and hoped like hell he hadn't landed Maddie into trouble right alongside him.

He rolled up the window as the truck moved off. At least he had a starting point now—all he had to do was track down the cat once Maddie had removed the arrow. He grimaced. Yeah. Real easy.

The truck bumped quickly along the old road. He held on grimly as Maddie pulled around a sharp right-hand turn, then reached out and gently touched her leg. She jumped and gave him a wild-eyed look.

Only then did he realize just how much he'd frightened her.

"It's all right. We're safe," he said, cursing himself for a fool. He was supposed to be an empath—why in the hell hadn't he sensed what she was going through? "Ease up a little. No one's after us."

She swallowed hard and nodded. The brakes ground harshly as she pulled over to the side of the road and stopped.

"What did you see back there?" she asked softly.

He half shrugged, not wanting to scare her any more than necessary. "Nothing. Just spooked by the darkness."

She studied him for a moment. He could sense her uncertainty—about him, and the situation she'd been forced into. He suddenly wished there was more light so he could see her eyes. He had a feeling they would tell him a great many secrets.

He frowned at the thought. He was in Taurin Bay for one reason only—to find the missing kids and to stop the people responsible for their disappearance. He didn't have time for any diversions, even one as interesting as Maddie.

"I need you to take the arrow from my arm," he said, more abruptly than he'd intended.

"And I think you should let a doctor do that…" her voice trailed off as she met his gaze. "Why are you so reluctant to see a doctor about this?"

Good question."Walking into an emergency room with an arrow wound might attract the sort of attention I'm trying to avoid." Which was the truth but not the true answer to her question.

"It might have hit an artery or something." She hesitated, then added softly, "I might kill you."

It was a normal fear, given the look of the wound, yet instinct suggested her fear stemmed more from something else. The tremor in her voice spoke of a past acquaintance with death—and that it was an acquaintance she had no wish to renew.

"You won't kill me," he said quietly, sensing it wouldn't take much more to scare her into running. "If an artery was severed, I'd have bled to death by now."

"But—" "I'll be all right. I just need the arrow removed. Every time I move, it digs a little deeper." Killed him just a little bit more.

She swallowed and nodded. "There's a first aid kit under your seat."

He leaned forward and retrieved the kit. She turned on the overhead light, then took the kit from him.

Her fingers shook as she sorted through the bandages and antiseptics.

"There's not a pair of tweezers big enough."

"Just use your fingers." He reached across and caught her hand. Her fingers were soft and warm against his, silk compared to sandpaper. "I'll be fine."

"I damn well won't," she muttered, then took a deep breath and gave him a shaky smile. "Try not to yell too loudly. Don't want to wake the neighbors."

Her smile lit her eyes and dimpled her cheeks. He closed his eyes, holding its image in his mind as the warmth of her fingers moved to his arm. White fire twisted through him, a living thing that could so easily kill if it was left too long. He held his breath, waiting, as she tentatively grabbed the shattered end of the arrow shaft. One, two, three.

As if she'd heard his unspoken words, Maddie wrenched the arrow from his arm. Pain ripped through his body, and he jerked sideways, falling against the door, gritting his teeth against the scream that tore past his throat.

"Oh hell…"

Her voice seemed a million miles away, the touch of her fingers suddenly so cold compared to the fire that raged down his arm and threatened to consume him.

He gulped down air, battling the urge to be ill—fighting the desire to just let go, to let the darkness in and take the pain away.

Moisture ran down his arm, then he felt the rough texture of a towel pressed against the wound. He bit back his curse and concentrated on the faint smell of roses, trying to build a wall around the pain and shut it away. She began to bandage his arm, and for an instant, the darkness loomed again. He took a deep breath and felt a wisp of magic run through his soul. He suddenly had to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. The white ash hadn't done as much damage as he'd feared.

But there was only one way he was ever going to find out. He had to get out of the truck and leave Madeline.

And he wasn't sure what was going to be the hardest to do.

"Jon?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her. There was fear in her warm amber eyes and blood on her hands.

What could he say? Thank you for saving my soul, if not my life?

"Do you need this?" she continued, distaste in her voice as she dangled the bloody shaft between two fingers. "For evidence or something?"

If he touched the white ash again in his weakened condition, it would probably kill him. And whatever clues the shaft might have held had been lost during his plunge into the water.

"Get rid of it."

She opened the door and threw the arrow out into the night. Cold air rushed in, swirling around him. He struggled upright, fighting the lethargy taking hold of his body.

"Thank you," he said, as she slammed the door shut.

She smiled wryly. "I'd say you're welcome, but it's not something I'd ever like to do again."

"If I had more time, I'd take you out to dinner or something." It sounded cold, even to him. But the cat was out there somewhere. Even if he couldn't find it tonight, he still had to go back to the inn and get the stuff he'd left there. It might have been easier to stay in Maddie's company, but it wasn't right. Better she thought the worst of him and just left. He grabbed the door handle and pulled it back. "I guess we'll just have to take a rain check, sweetheart."

Maddie stared at him. For Christ's sake, she was still covered in his blood, and here he was giving her a casual brush off! "Don't you dare leave just yet—" But she was speaking to the night.

Maddie blinked. How could an injured man move so fast? She scrambled out of the truck and ran to the passenger side. He was nowhere to be seen. She bit her lip and studied the darkness. He could barely walk ten minutes ago, so surely he couldn't be too far away. She grabbed the flashlight and swept the bright beam across the road. The undergrowth beneath the trees didn't look as if it had been disturbed recently. So where in the hell had Jon gone, if not through there?

"Damn you, Jon! Come back here."

The keen of the wind through the treetops was her only answer. She shivered and watched the shadows uneasily. Something didn't feel right. A twig snapped suddenly, and she swung the flashlight's beam across the thick stand of trees to her right. The undergrowth stirred, and out of the shadows stepped a dark-colored cat, its eyes green fire in the darkness. Not just any cat but a big, black panther.

Something in the creature's jewellike gaze made Maddie's soul tremble with fear.

She edged backwards, feeling for the truck door. The creature snarled silently, revealing teeth that were long and white. She jumped into the car and slammed the door shut. The engine started the first time she twisted the ignition, and she shifted into gear. Then she hesitated, eyeing the darkness beyond the headlights.

Jon was still out there, injured and alone, with a panther stalking the area. Would the cat smell his blood and hunt him down? Maybe she should find someone and report the panther's presence—only who would believe her? Panthers weren't exactly native to this area, and unless someone had reported one having escaped, they'd probably think she was nuts.

Or drunk.

If only.She took a deep breath and tried to calm the irrational rush of anger. She knew it stemmed more from her need to find Evan than Jon's casual gratitude and sudden disappearance.

But she wished he'd had the decency to stick around, even if it was just long enough to refuse to help her.

He never promised to help me, though. It's my fault I'm here, running from shadows and cats, not his.

And she couldn't leave until Evan was safe.

She drove the truck back onto the road and headed towards the inn.

Rain was pelting across the windshield by the time she reached it. She switched off the engine, then glanced across at the inn. The light peeking past the edges of the curtains indicated someone was still up, despite the fact it was after eleven. But the night manager had said he'd wait and let her in. So why was she suddenly wary?

Maybe the encounter with the cat had scared her more than she'd thought. Or maybe it was the way the shadows crowded the building and gave the appearance of skeletal hands creeping across the outer edges of light.

And maybe she was simply tired and needed to rest. She jumped out of the truck. Holding her coat over her head, she ran across the lawn to the front steps.

The bell chimed brightly as she closed the door. Maddie grimaced and shook out her coat. On nights like this, when her imagination seemed to be taking a walk on the wild side, she'd rather keep to herself.

Especially if the person she had to talk to was a night manager with weird brown eyes.

Warmth surrounded her as she headed quietly towards the stairs. A woman talked softly in the parlor to her right, her voice mellow and deep, but beyond that, there was no other sound.

The sudden shattering of glass made her stop and glance upwards. Had a tree branch gone through one of the windows upstairs?

Footsteps sounded behind her. She looked around. The night manager stopped in the parlor doorway and leaned casually against the door frame.

"Hello again. Enjoy the drive?"

"Yes, thanks," she said.

Though his voice held nothing beyond polite interest, there was still something about him that made her uneasy. Maybe it was just the smug half-smile that touched his thin lips, or the way his gaze roamed down her body.

He raised his coffee cup. "Coffee's just brewed, if you'd like a cup."

The urge to run was almost overwhelming. What in hell was wrong with her tonight? He hadn't threatened her in any way, only offered her coffee.

"I'd love to but—" She hesitated, then shrugged. The best excuse was usually the truth. "It's been a long day. Thanks for the offer, though."

He pushed away from the door frame and took several steps toward her. "Thought I heard something break as you came in."

Again, though his voice was conversational, his dark eyes were intense, watchful.

Something odd was going on.

She licked suddenly dry lips. "Like what?"

"Sounded like glass breaking."

She raised an eyebrow, trying to sound calm. "I really didn't hear anything like that." And if he had, why didn't he mention it the moment he came out?

"Really?" He took a sip of his coffee, then glanced up the stairs. "Maybe I should check your room before you go up there. Make sure it's safe."

The last place she wanted this man was in her room. She shook her head and tried to smile. "I'll be all right. If anything's broken, I'll give you a call." But not until morning, when there's more light and a lot more people around.

"I'll be up in a moment to check the other rooms, so I'll be nearby if you need me." He hesitated, then raised his cup. "'Night."

She watched him disappear into the parlor, then turned and almost ran up the stairs. Her hands were shaking so much it took several tries before she could get the door open. She locked it behind her, then sagged against it and took a deep breath.

What was it about that man that made her so afraid? Or was Jayne right? Had she locked herself away for so long, she'd simply forgotten how to interact with people?

Maddie rubbed her eyes, then walked across the room towards the bedroom. She kicked off her shoes near the bed, then pulled off her socks. A cold breeze ran around her ankles and she glanced towards the bathroom.

Had a window broken? She hesitated, then cursed herself for doing so. What was she afraid of? Broken glass?

Opening the bathroom door, she switched on the light and looked in.

Jon lay sprawled on the floor, wet, bleeding and surrounded by glass.