Circle of Fire (Damask Circle 1)

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.

Madeline 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. She was smaller and slimmer than she’d first appeared, and she smelled 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 scent of magic whispered across the wind, tainting the cold night air.

She was right. They had to get out of this field. He couldn’t afford to find trouble now, when Madeline 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. Madeline 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, her jacket falling from his shoulders as he 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.

JON TWISTED AROUND IN THE SEAT, TRYING TO FIND MADELINE. 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. The driver’s-side door opened and Madeline 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. Then he smiled grimly. The chances of that happening are about as good as me flying right now …

Madeline 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 scent 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 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 abruptly back. 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 toward 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 toward 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 toward 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 Madeline in trouble too.

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 Madeline had removed the arrow. He grimaced. Yeah. Real easy.

The truck bumped quickly along the old road. He held on grimly as Madeline 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 being 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 now.”