Circle of Fire (Damask Circle 1)

Jo

n closed his eyes. It explained so much—her fear, her need to retreat. He wondered if she’d loved the man she’d married and killed. Wondered whether the fire had been a mistake or intentional.

“Mack, I need her help. Can you keep everyone off our backs for a couple of days?”

“I could—if you agree to let me know when you discover any new information.”

“Agreed.” When he’d let the agent know was an entirely different matter. Despite Seline’s warning, he didn’t want to bring Mack in just yet. The FBI agent wanted the justice system to take care of Eleanor and Hank, and that simply wasn’t an option. Justice wouldn’t understand the likes of Eleanor, and it certainly wouldn’t be able to hold her.

Only death could do that.

“Good,” Mack growled. “I’ll be in touch.”

Jon hung up. At least now they could move around without having to worry about the police spotting Maddie. He frowned and leaned a shoulder against the wall, staring at the bathroom door. Now all he had to do was convince her that the intensity of their kiss had been nothing more than a result of the drug. That it had meant nothing to him, just as she meant nothing to him.

After the attack on her last night, it was obvious that both Eleanor and Hank suspected she was working with him. The longer she stayed in Taurin Bay, the greater the danger to her life.

Acting cold hadn’t succeeded in driving her away so far, but he had a suspicion it would eventually. Something in her eyes told him it brought back memories of a past she’d much rather forget. And maybe those memories were of a husband she’d feared enough to kill.

He pushed away from the wall and moved back to the table. Before he did anything else today, he had to get back to his truck and the weapons stashed there. After last night, Eleanor would be waiting for his next move. He had no intention of walking into a fight without the means of protecting Maddie.

MADDIE TILTED HER FACE UP TO THE SHOWERHEAD AND LET the spray massage her skin. She was a fool—a fool to kiss Jon, and a fool to ask that damn question. What had she really expected him to say? If she wasn’t certain of her own emotions, why should she expect him to be any different? They were strangers thrown into a dangerous situation by chance. When it was over and Evan was safe, they would go their separate ways. Why would she ever expect anything more?

Because when I’m with him, it almost seems as if I’ve found the other half of myself. She turned her back to the spray. Maybe she felt so attracted to the man simply because he seemed to understand. For the first time in her life, she’d found someone who didn’t mock or belittle her abilities. Only death had stopped Brian’s viciousness.

Memories rose unbidden. She clenched her fists and tried to stop them—but to no avail. Once again she felt the pain of Brian’s fists smashing into her body, her face. Felt fire burn uncontrolled through her body. Heard his laughter turn to screams as the flames engulfed him.

She shuddered and leaned her forehead against the shower wall. In the worst of her dreams, she could still see him burn, could see his flesh blacken and peel away, smell his death in every pore of her skin. In reality, though, she’d run the minute he’d let her go. She’d never seen him die—hadn’t wanted to, despite everything he’d done to her. But neither had she called for help, not until she knew he was well and truly dead.

I’ve killed, and I’m still a risk, because I can’t control my abilities. That she’d managed to control those same abilities long enough to see the location of the cabin in which Evan was a prisoner meant nothing. They might help save Evan, but that would never really ease the weight of her guilt.

It was all very well for Jon to suggest she find help, but what if it was too late to make any true difference now? What if her fire-starting had grown so wild it could never be truly contained? Being with Jon wasn’t a risk she was willing to take. It was safer to stay alone—and lonely. At least then she could kill no one but herself.

If only Jon’s kiss hadn’t stolen her breath and her heart, and made her want him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

If only she didn’t have to face him this morning and pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

She sighed and stepped out of the shower. Maybe they’d get lucky and find Evan and the other teenager this morning. Then she could leave before she did something foolish.

Like admit her feelings to a man who just didn’t care.

She dressed quickly and ran a comb through the thick tangle of her hair. Then she took a deep breath and eyed her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back had dark rings under her eyes and a figure well hidden by a loose, vibrant green sweater. Not her most attractive outfit, which was probably just as well. If he gave her one of his heated looks, she might just melt.

Only he didn’t even bother looking up from the newspaper he was reading when she walked out of the bathroom.

So much for worrying about any lingering tension, she thought with a scowl. She sat down at the table. Maybe all the heat had been little more than fallout from the drug—at least on his part. Maybe he couldn’t even remember it.

“Eat up,” he said, picking up the coffeepot and pouring her a cup. “It’ll be light soon, and we don’t want to waste too much time, in case they move the kids.”

She picked up the coffee to warm her hands and looked at the toast and cereal. She suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore. But she picked up some cold toast and ate it anyway.

He looked up only when she’d finished, and there was nothing but polite interest in his face. “Ready to go?” he asked, pulling his gaze away from hers.

But not before she’d seen the shadows under his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t slept as soundly as she’d first thought.

She rose and collected her purse and keys. “Can we take your truck? That way I can study the map and look for the place I saw last night.”

He hesitated. “It’s still parked near the inn. I walked to the restaurant to meet Eleanor, remember?”