The witch's eyes widened, and for the first time, fear flickered deep in the depths of madness. But she could no more fight Kirby's hold on her than she could the energy that now rushed between them.
Once again, the circle of five had become one.
Power surged, crackling sharply across the silence, a rich, throaty roar that made the storms pale in comparison. The earth shuddered in response, and the sharp sound of concrete shattering filled the air.
Kirby!
Doyle's shout seemed a million miles away. Energy burned, became a song only she could see and control. Her whole being danced to its tune, aching for its caress.
Kirby! Listen to me.
She frowned, but the music of energy beckoned and his voice seemed to fade. She smiled, in her mind's eye seeing the witches' stones tumble and leap like frogs in the pond that the car park had become.
You must control it, or you'll kill us all.
The desperation in his voice reached past her euphoria. Memories shuddered through her. She couldn't kill—not again.
Not innocent bystanders, anyway..
She took a deep breath, then focused the force of five on Mariel herself. Pain exploded—pain so deep it tore through every fiber of her being. She screamed, a sound echoed by both Mariel and Trina. Then the whole world seemed to tear itself apart, and she knew no more.
Eighteen
"Are you sure you won't come back with us?"
Doyle shook his head. "I have to find her, Russ. I can't leave until I at least talk to her."
Three weeks had passed since that fateful fight in the parking garage that had killed the witch and damn near killed him as well. Three weeks in which he hadn't seen or heard from Kirby.
She'd checked out of the hospital the day after they'd both been admitted, and had simply disappeared. Worry and fear had been his constant companions from that moment on. What if she was still lost in the dance of energy she'd raised?
What if the energy that had blown apart the witch had somehow backwashed and taken her spirit and her mind, as well?
What if she was running from him, from the emotions she feared to face?
The wind stirred, running heated fingers through his hair. He squinted up at the clear blue skies. Though dawn had barely passed, the promise of another hot day was already evident. A good day for hunting, if nothing else.
"You'd better get inside," he said, returning his gaze to Russell's bandaged face. "Before the sun hits full strength and you start burning." Russell nodded and held out a bandaged hand. "Good luck, my friend."
'Thanks. I think I'm going to need it." He glanced past the vampire as Camille appeared in the doorway of the Circle's private jet. She looked around quickly, then clattered down the steps and bustled toward them. "Looks like you're about to get the hurry up," he added.
Russell groaned. "It's going to be a long trip home if the old witch is going to start nagging now."
"If you don't watch that smart mouth of yours, vampire, you'll well and truly hear me nag." Camille stopped and glared up at Russell. "Now, get that bandaged butt of yours into the plane. We've got to get going."
'The butt isn't bandaged. Only the face and hands."
"Seems to be no difference from where I'm standing," she muttered. "Now, move it."
Doyle choked back his laugh as Camille turned the full force of her glare at him. "As for you, shifter, be careful. There's no telling what her state of mind is going to be."
"I know." But he couldn't leave without trying to find her. Without knowing, one way or another, whether she wanted to be a part of his life. Camille pulled a brush and a scrap of paper from her pocket and slapped both into his hands. "I did a finding spell for you. The address where you'll find her is written on that paper."
He clenched his fingers around both. 'Thanks."