Ahead, a branch snapped, a sharp sound that seemed to echo through the unnatural silence of the forest. He stopped quickly, listening. For several seconds there was no further sound, then he heard a soft, fearful sob. Even as hope rose, he squashed it. The sob didn't belong to Maddie—it was much too young sounding. Eleanor would have no doubt ensured the mountain was empty of human habitation—she certainly couldn't afford to have strangers wandering into the middle of her blood sacrifice, fouling the magic. Which meant the person he could hear just might be the kidnapped girl. From the sound of it, she was heading down the trail towards them.
"Trouble?" Mack asked quietly, his hand hovering near his gun.
"Someone's running towards us—someone who's frightened and unsteady on their feet. It just might be our missing kid."
Mack raised his eyebrow. "You can tell all this standing here?"
Jon gave him a grim smile. "I can. And so can Eleanor, if she's as close as we are. Let's move."
They scrambled up the trail, ducking low-hanging branches and trying to make as little noise as possible. Jon leapt over a slime-encrusted rock, but his footing slipped coming down, and he landed awkwardly. A needle-hot lance of pain ran up his leg. He swore softly and limped on for several more steps then stopped and grabbed at his leg.
Mack did a quick sidestep to avoid running into him. "Problem?"
"Tore my damn leg open again." Blood was beginning to seep through his jeans and past his fingers. It was a smell that would attract a hunter like Eleanor, if she were anywhere nearby.
Mack took a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it out. "Here, use this." He accepted it with a grunt of thanks, and quickly tied it around the wound, tightening it as much as he dared. A soft gasp made him glance up. Not ten feet away stood a thin, pale girl. He might have thought her little more than a wraith except for the heaving of her chest, the sharp tang of fear in the turbulent swirl of her emotions.
Mack's sudden stillness suggested the FBI agent had also spotted her. Jon didn't dare move. If either of them did, he sensed she'd run. "Teresa?" The girl nodded once, dark eyes wide as her gaze flitted between the two of them. "Is one of you Jon?"
"I am." He straightened carefully, the knot in his stomach suddenly more painful than his leg. To know his name the teenager had to have been talking to Maddie. Which meant Maddie had somehow helped her escape, but at what cost to herself? "This is Mack, from the FBI."
"You have to get me out here. She's up there, she'll come after me..." Teresa glanced quickly up the trail then took a few stumbling steps towards them.
"Please, we have to get out of here."
Her gaze was wide and terrified, dark eyes glassy. Running on sheer terror, he thought, and shared a grim look with Mack. "You take her down. I'll continue on."
"You can't take on Eleanor alone and expect to win."
"I know." He raked a hand through his hair and glanced up the trail. Maddie was up there, somewhere. And he sensed her time was running out. "I know your men aren't far behind us. Take the girl to them then come back up. But remember, Eleanor is a shapeshifter. Don't trust any animal you see in this forest." Mack raised his eyebrow. "Not even a hawk?"
"Especially a hawk," Jon said grimly. "I won't be shapeshifting to fight Eleanor, so it won't be me you see."
Mack nodded, then squatted, making himself a less formidable sight to the frightened teenager. "Let's get you down the mountain and see what we can do to find your mom and dad."
Tears misted the teenager's eyes. She edged forward, timidly taking Mack's hand when he held it out.
"Please, we have to hurry," she whispered, casting another fearful look up the mountain.
"Don't you worry about that old witch. Jon will take care of her." His gaze met Jon's for a moment, and Jon smiled grimly. It wasn't hard to guess at the unspoken words in Mack's mind. I hope.
Mack and the girl headed back down the mountain. Jon gave the blood-soaked handkerchief a tug, testing its tightness, then glanced up the trail. Teresa hadn't looked strong enough to make it too far on her own. Eleanor and Maddie couldn't be far away. He just had to hope his leg would hold out until he got there.
Fifteen minutes later, he leaned against the twisted wreck of an old pine and struggled to see past the sweat stinging his eyes.
Maddie was a mere fifty feet away, but it might as well have been a thousand. She lay on the ground, arms outstretched. He couldn't see if she was tied. Couldn't see if she was awake or hurt. Could barely even see her through the ring of pale flame that surrounded her.
Trying to ignore the painful twist in his gut, he let his gaze travel around the clearing. There was no sign of Eleanor, but she had to be near. The taint of magic hung so heavily in the air it was making him sick.
Or was that fear?
His gaze was drawn back to Maddie. Had she moved? Did she know he was near?
He pushed away from the tree and wiped the sweat from his eyes. An almost expectant hush hung across the clearing. Beyond the strange colored flames, there was nothing that might indicate the trap that had to be waiting. He smiled grimly, his gaze drawn back to the trees on the opposite side of the clearing. Eleanor was there somewhere, waiting and watching.
Why make her wait any longer than necessary? The only way to discover what the witch planned was to walk straight into her trap—and hope Seline hadn't underestimated the amulet's power.
He dropped Maddie's pack near the base of the tree, then limped into the clearing. A shiver of anticipation seemed to run through the air. He listened for any sound that might indicate an attack, but kept his gaze on the figure lying in the center of the flames. Still no movement, no sound from Maddie. He stopped three feet away from the flames. A tingle ran from the ground and up his body, and the amulet sprang to life, burning fiercely against his throat. He glanced down. He'd stepped into some sort of star drawn into the ground. Magic. But what had Eleanor intended it to do?