Circle of Fire (Damask Circle 1)

He dropped a quick kiss on her fingers, then rose and did up his pants. “It’s best if I go, Eleanor. We both know that.”

She rose with him. The predatory gleam in her eyes was stronger—the huntress was rising fully to the surface. Magic whispered around him. Magic that was old and full of evil. It had the same foul taste that had been evident after the attack on Maddie.

She reached out, running her fingernails lightly down his cheek. Her touch burned, and moisture dribbled down his cheek, thick and warm. She withdrew her hand. Her fingers were smeared with red. She licked them slowly, her gaze hot.

The huntress was getting ready to pounce on her prey.

“I can’t let you go.” Her voice was sultry and yet somehow harsh—almost as if she were having trouble speaking.

Or having trouble remaining in human form.

“As I said, there is much we have to discuss. Like, who do you work for, and how have you managed to stay so close on our heels?”

He clenched his fists and barely curbed the sudden urge to answer her question. He’d obviously ingested some sort of truth drug. Lord, he should never have been arrogant enough to think he could come to her lair and escape unscathed.

“Sorry. Haven’t got time for questions right now. Things to do, places to be.” He gave her a casual smile, then swung his fist at her chin.

Her head snapped back, and she crumpled. He caught her before she hit the carpet and laid her down on the sofa. The last thing he wanted was her head smashing against the coffee table or floor—not when she might be the only one who could lead them to the kids. He had no idea how deeply Hank was involved. It was still possible the man had no true idea of what Eleanor was doing.

Possible, but not likely.

He quickly frisked her but found little beyond the fact that she was wearing no underwear. He stood up and studied the room. There had to be something, somewhere, that would give him more of a lead. He turned and walked toward the door. Maybe her bedroom was a good place to start …

The light around him suddenly buzzed, and for an instant, the doorway blurred.

He shook his head and the doorway steadied. He took another step, and the room whirled briefly. The buzzing was growing, shooting pain through his head. The drug—it may have been a truth drug, but it was also beginning to affect his ability to see and walk straight. He’d better leave while he still could.

He got out of the house, then called to his alternate shape. He had to get back to Maddie before the drug took a firm hold.

MADDIE GLANCED AT HER WATCH FOR THE THOUSANDTH time. It was nearing midnight and there was still no word from Jon. Obviously, he was having such a good time that he wasn’t in a hurry to get back. Let’s just hope he remembers why he’s seducing Eleanor …

And that, she realized with a frown, was an extremely bitchy thought. She rose from the sofa and walked across to the window. The curtains were a sun-faded orange and smelled faintly of stale beer and smoke—just like the room. The Sea View was not one of the classier motels. But the old guy at the desk had been nice, even though she’d clearly woken him up. And it certainly felt a lot safer waiting here than it would have back at the inn.

She pushed the curtains aside, leaned against the windowpane, and studied the waves lapping the beach across the road.

The trouble was, she was getting tired of waiting.

It was way past time she started taking control of her life. Or at least one tiny part of it. Thanks to Jon, she now knew that it was possible to control her gifts. So why not extend that? Why not try to find Evan with them?

Fear leaped up and clenched her throat tight. She bit her lip and leaned her forehead against the cool glass pane. All her life she’d been taught to fear her gifts, to despise what they could do. And in truth, up until now they had caused her nothing but grief. But here, at las

t, was a chance to do some good, a chance to save a life rather than take it.

If she had the courage.

I can do this. For Evan, I can do this.

She took a deep breath, then walked across to her bag, digging around until she found Evan’s gold chain.

Maybe it would help. Maybe it wouldn’t.

Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, she looped the chain around her hand and closed her eyes. She formed a picture of Evan in her mind and projected her need to find him.

Nothing happened.

She frowned slightly. She thought of him laughing as they played football together, remembered the look on his face the Halloween she’d dressed up as a witch and come visiting. Still nothing happened. No images came.

She sighed and opened her eyes. Maybe she needed another focus—what had set her abilities off recently? The smell of citrus—oranges!