Circle Of Fire

Chapter Eight

Jon accepted a glass of wine with a smile of thanks and leaned against the mantelpiece, watching Maddie. She was across the room, easily chatting with another guest. There was no way anyone would know by simply looking at her that she was terrified.

He sipped his wine and heard her laugh, a sound so warm and free it made him smile. Her hair fell down her back like a river of flame, gleaming brightly whenever she moved. Even with the long, loose, jade-colored shirt hiding her slender figure, she looked good.

As if she felt the weight of his stare, her gaze turned to his. In her expressive gaze he again saw wariness and fear—not of the situation, but of herself.

He frowned and wondered again what her other talent was. He had a feeling her fear was tied to it—as was the memory of death he occasionally saw in her eyes. His gaze flicked to her lips, and he remembered their taste, the warmth of her mouth against his own. He took a long gulp of wine. Such thoughts would only lead him into trouble.

Someone touched his shoulder lightly, and a sweet honeyed scent wafted around him.

He turned his back on Maddie. Even from across the room, he felt her annoyance, even hurt. He had no choice but to ignore it.

"Eleanor," he said, forcing more warmth into his voice than he felt. "What a surprise to see you here."

"Heard you were staying here and thought I'd drop by and say hello," she purred, brushing the thick strands of silken gold away from her face. "Unfortunately, I can't stay for long."

Her nail polish was the color of blood. Appropriate for a hunter like Eleanor. "Another appointment?"

"Business, darling. You know how it is." She screwed up her nose, then took a sip of wine and slowly licked the residual moisture from her ruby-red lips.

It looked like he wasn't the only one with seduction on his mind. He smiled and blatantly ran his gaze down her body. Eleanor had certainly come dressed for the part. Her black dress clung in all the right places and allowed plenty of long, honey-colored legs to be seen. Nice, real nice, but no Maddie.

He drowned the thought with another drink. He hadn't come here to seduce Maddie. It was time he started concentrating on the business at hand.

"We could meet for a drink later, if you like. Get to know each other a little better."

"Oh, I like," she purred, meeting his gaze with a look that was pure heat.

A dinner bell chimed faintly in the adjoining room. "Are you eating?" he asked, offering Eleanor his arm.

She linked her arm through his. "Only main course. Dessert will come later—if you're lucky."

His smile felt tight. As easy as this seduction was turning out to be, it was one he had no real desire for.

And yet, at any other time, it wouldn't have mattered. He too was a hunter, both in spirit and in profession. Sometimes he had no choice but to flirt with a woman to get information vital to his case, whether or not he was attracted to her. Many women seemed to relax their guard once flirtation had moved to kissing, making it that much easier to question them. His gaze flickered across the room until he saw the fiery gleam of her hair. Would Maddie ever drop her guard?

His gaze suddenly narrowed. Hank's dark head was close to Maddie's. Though he'd half expected this to happen, the sight of the man sleazing up next to her annoyed him more than he'd thought it would.

There wasn't a thing he could do to get her away from Hank, though. He had a feeling that Eleanor was the key to everything, and with the lives of the teenagers at stake, she had to be his main concern, not Maddie.

He smiled and pulled a chair out for Eleanor. Some days at the office were definitely tougher than others.

Eleanor's laughter ran softly across the murmur of conversation, a smooth and seductive sound. Maddie gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it. A hard task since Eleanor appeared to be holding court at the far end of the room, with practically every male at the table hanging off each huskily delivered word. Only Hank seemed immune to the woman's all-too-obvious charms.

Maddie scowled down at her plate. Hank sat on her left, his chair too close for comfort. She didn't dare move around too much. Every time she did, their arms or knees brushed. It was an intimacy that left her feeling ill.

Eleanor laughed again. Maddie stabbed a piece of meat on her plate and quickly ate it. Maybe her best course of action was to get away from here as quickly as possible.

"I like a woman who enjoys her meat," Hank said, a suggestive leer touching his thin lips.

Her stomach turned. If she had to put up with another five minutes of this man, he'd quickly learn just how little she was enjoying his company.

"I don't eat it much," she said, glancing at the other end of the table when there was another burst of laughter.

Eleanor had one hand draped over Jon's shoulders, her golden head close to his. They were a good match, she thought, watching the light run through Jon's hair as he laughed softly at something Eleanor said.

Maddie scowled and looked back down at her plate. At least she had an answer for her earlier question. She'd rather sit next to a dozen Hanks than watch Jon with another woman.

She stabbed another piece of meat, then held it up on the fork and glared at it.

"I think it's dead," Hank said, dry amusement in his tone. "As I think the boyfriend might be, if you ever get him back this evening."

She glanced at him, startled that her thoughts were so obvious. "He's not my boyfriend…" she hesitated and felt heat creep through her cheeks when Hank raised an eyebrow. Their act earlier had certainly suggested they were lovers, and she couldn't very well deny it now. "I mean, we're old friends, but no longer an item, as such."

"Both free spirits, hey?"

Maddie shrugged. She'd never been a free spirit where men were concerned. Maybe that was why she'd married Brian. She pushed her plate away, suddenly not hungry any more.

"Odd coincidence that you both happened to be in Taurin Bay at the same time," Hank continued lightly.

"Especially given that you checked into the same inn."

She licked dry lips. "Yes, it is, isn't it?"

"Not married by any chance, are you?"

She smiled grimly. "I was. My husband is dead."

"Oh," Hank murmured. "Sorry to hear that."

He sounds real sorry, too,she thought sarcastically. She listened to him tap his knife lightly against his plate and found herself gritting her teeth again.

"We've had a bit of trouble around these parts, you know," he said after a moment.

Her gaze jerked up to his. His dark eyes were watchful. He was baiting her, she realized, trying to make her give something away. "Really? What sort of trouble?"

"Kids have been disappearing lately. The only link between any of the disappearances was the fact that the families stayed here in Taurin Bay."

She swallowed nervously. How much had been written in the local papers about the missing teenagers?

Was Hank telling her more than he could have found out from the local news?

"Bet that has played havoc with tourist numbers."

Hank smiled, though no humor touched the darkness in his eyes. "It hasn't yet, luckily. It will, if they don't get some results soon, though."

"I'm sure the police are working on it."

"Oh, I'm sure many people are working on it."

He smiled when she looked at him. She was reminded of a vulture hungrily watching its prey.

"Then someone will catch them."

Hank leaned back in his chair and continued to smile lazily at her. "Personally, I doubt it. So many kids disappear every day in this country that it's become an unfashionable crime to pursue."

She frowned. "This is different though."

"Oh? How?"

"I remember reading a bit about this in our local paper. Haven't sixteen kids disappeared?"

He smiled. Something in his eyes suggested she'd just made a major mistake, though she wasn't exactly sure what it was. "So they say. No one's really sure of the exact number."

She swallowed. The exact number was currently seventeen, if you included Evan. "Well, that's a rather large number to end up missing from the one area, isn't it? It'd have to raise the police's suspicions."

"But they haven't all disappeared from this area. I said the only known connection between the disappearances was Taurin Bay."

"Oh."

"So which newspaper did you read all this in?"

She shrugged uneasily. "Just a local paper. The Mail, I think. Or it could have been the Courier."

"I'll have to hunt the articles up. Been keeping something of a scrapbook on the case."

Maddie forced a smile. It would only take one phone call to discover her lie. "Something to show the grandchildren later in life?"

"Something like that." His dead gaze ran past her for a moment. "That boyfriend of yours is getting mighty friendly with Miss Dumeresq."

"Let him. I don't care." She threw her napkin down on the table and pushed her chair back. Enough was enough.

"Going already?" Hank raised his eyebrows at her, a knowing smile touching the corners of his thin mouth.

"It's been a long day," she replied tightly. And it looked as if it was going to be an even longer night.

Jon could take his turn on the damn sofa tonight—if he even bothered coming back to the room, that was.

"I don't suppose you'd like company?"

She glanced down sharply at Hank. He smiled blandly back.

"I meant to the door, of course."

"Of course," she muttered. "But I'll be fine, thanks."

He nodded. "See you tomorrow, Miss Smith." He gave her a smile that held more than a hint of malice, then added, "Maybe."

A chill ran down her spine. Maybe going up to the room alone wasn't such a good idea. She glanced back at Jon and found her gaze meeting his. But there was no comfort to be found in the blue of his eyes.

He was doing his job, and she was only getting in the way. His gaze said as much.

She licked her lips and turned away. Hank's gaze burned a hole into her back as she walked quickly from the room.

"What about that nightcap, then?" Eleanor arched an eyebrow at him and walked her fingers down his chest.

Jon stopped her hand when it reached his stomach. "You choose. You know the town better than I do."

"There's a lovely little bar a couple of blocks away, on Fourth. Blue Moon, it's called. And the best thing is, it's only a five minute walk from my place."

He raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like an invitation."

"Play your cards right, and it just might be," she purred and lightly kissed his ear.

He resisted the temptation to move away from her touch and glanced down the table at Hank. The man was looking far too smug for Jon's liking. Eleanor's tongue whisked across his ear. This time he did pull away, smiling when she pouted.

"What about the boyfriend?"

Eleanor raised finely sculptured eyebrows. "What boyfriend?"

Jon nodded towards Hank. "Aren't you two an item?"

Eleanor's smile was pure seduction. "Sometimes we are. Sometimes we aren't."

Hank appeared to be ignoring them, yet Jon sensed the man knew every move he and Eleanor made.

There was some sort of link between the night manager and Eleanor, a tenuous thread of magic that tingled across his skin like electricity. It worried him, and yet at the same time, it told him he was right in suspecting these two.

"So he won't object to us going out?"

Her smile gained a hint of malice. "Oh, he may object, but I don't really care."

Her heart is as cold as her touch is warm,he thought. She looked briefly at Hank, her expression disdainful. At that moment, the electricity surged, a brief but potent charge that made the hair on Jon's arms stand on end.

Hank rose immediately, bumping into the woman on his left and spilling her wine. He muttered an apology then quickly walked from the room. The bell chimed as he left the inn.

Tension surged through Jon. He flexed his shoulders, trying to relax. Something had just happened between Eleanor and Hank, and until he found out what, he'd better be more careful.

She turned, facing him. His gaze was drawn to her ample cleavage. The woman was built, he had to give her that.

"So, what time should we meet?" she continued softly.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearly nine now. The sooner he got this over with, the better. But he wanted to check on Maddie first and make sure she was okay. She'd been a little upset when she'd left the table.

"I'm good any time. You're the one with the meeting, so why don't you decide?"

"This is going to be the shortest business meeting in history. I can't believe my lawyer chose such an ungodly hour." She ran a nail down his cheek. Though her touch was feather light, it would only take the slightest bit of pressure to slice his skin. Her nails were as sharp as a cat's. "How does ten sound?"

"Suits me." He caught her hand, raising it to his lips.

Amusement spun through her eyes. "Such a gentleman."

He smiled. "Only when the room is full of people."

"Good," she purred, and rose. "Because I like a man with a bit of fight in him."

Most cats did. It seemed to be part of their makeup. He picked up his wine and watched her walk away. He'd better be damn careful tonight, or he'd find himself as dessert in more ways than one.

Maddie bolted the suite door but still didn't feel safer. Hank's warning seemed to echo through the silence and set her teeth on edge. After turning on every light, she checked the bedroom and bathroom for intruders. There was nothing unusual to be found, yet her stomach turned uneasily. Something felt wrong, and it wasn't just her nerves—or her imagination.

She bit her lip and rubbed her arms. The room was cold, despite the fire. She threw more logs on and stirred the coals. Flames leapt, fierce and bright.

Despite the light, the shadows in the far corners of the room seemed to loom threateningly. She shivered and held her hands out to the flames, trying to warm them. The encounter with Hank must have unnerved her more than she'd realized. She was getting jumpy over shadows, for Christ sake.

A floorboard creaked behind her. She whirled, her heart leaping into her throat. Something whisked through the light, a gossamer veil that held no shape.

She swallowed heavily. Fog. It had to be fog. The idiot repairman must have left the bathroom window open this morning, even though she hadn't noticed it when she checked earlier.

Another sheer form spun across the room. She closed her eyes. It was her imagination, nothing more.

Ghosts did not exist.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. A phantom floated two feet away from her, staring at her with eyes that held no life.

Maddie tried to scream, but no sound came out. The creature laughed softly. It was a sound that chilled her soul.

"Flee," it whispered hoarsely. "Flee, or die."

She tried to back away from the wraith, but her feet were like ice, refusing to move with any sort of speed. Something lashed across her shoulders. She yelped in pain and spun around. The mocking sound of laughter ran across the room. She touched her shoulder; her fingers came away sticky. Real or not, these creatures could harm her.

More wraiths skimmed through the room. Her back hit a wall and sweat broke across her brow. She licked her lips and closed her eyes again, praying for strength. The pressure was beginning to build deep within her, pressure she feared and could not control.

Oh God, it's happening again.

She clenched her hands, digging her nails into her palms. The pain only intensified the burning deep within.

"Please, just leave me alone," she whispered. "I don't want to kill anyone else."

The wraiths danced and mocked her, paying her words no heed. Something flicked across her face, stinging. She jerked her head away, and felt warmth seep down her cheek.

The heat in the room leapt. A log exploded in the hearth and sparks flew through the room.

The wraiths laughed.

Maddie screamed as the burning broke loose.