balcony, ‘that’s the woman from the news,’ I said. The witch who killed that poor man today.”
That was how they’d caught up to her, Shea thought with an inner groan. A civilian had spotted her and turned her in. But who did the woman call? Who were these men and what were they going to do to her now?
“Yeah, it’s her, lady,” a man said in a voice hoarse from too many cigarettes. “Now get on back to your house. We’ll take care of this.”
Take care of it how? Shea wondered frantically. Were they going to kill her? Torture and rape her first? Witches had no rights and she knew that a grateful public would no doubt pin a medal on anyone who could prove he’d killed one.
Suddenly Torin was looking much better to her. Now she wanted nothing more than to be back in that luxurious room with the tall, fierce-looking man standing between her and danger. If that made her a coward, she was willing to live with it. But since she was on her own, she had to try to reason with the men hulking around her.
How many were there? Three? Four?
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and the taste of fear was sharp and bitter on her tongue. She squirmed ineffectually against the man holding her from behind, but managed to twist her face free of the other man’s hand.
“Stop, please . . . I’m not what you think.” Lies. She was exactly what they thought she was. What she’d denied being for ten long years. And the worst part? They all knew it.
“Hear that?” a man on her right said, then mocked in a falsetto tone, “Please.”
“Don’t listen to her,” another one told him. “She might spell you.”
If only she could.
Someone snorted, then ordered, “Go get the van.”
Van?
They were taking her somewhere. And how would Torin ever find her?
She shook her head, desperate now to somehow reach these men. “I don’t know any spells. Really. I’m not what you think. I’m a sixth-grade science teacher. That’s all. This is a huge mistake.”
Her only hope was to convince the men she was innocent. But, she reminded herself, mistakes happened all the time these days and women still disappeared.
“Gag her.”
“No!” She was already bound—if they gagged her too, she didn’t think she could stand it. Shea pulled in a deep, terrified breath. She was out of time, out of hope. No one was riding to her rescue. There was no cavalry and she’d just run from the one person who might have kept her safe.
She was falling into a hole of her own making and now she could do nothing to keep it from growing even deeper. She was flipped over onto her back and despite her pleas, one of the men leaned down to fix a gag to her mouth. And she got her first good look at her captors.
Black uniforms. Yellow armbands. Gold badges that winked in the indistinct light.
The Magic Police had finally caught up with her.
Chapter 7
Torin noted Rune jumping down after him, but he didn’t wait for his old friend. Instead, he followed the fading scent of his woman and rushed across the yard to the wall. Through the blind rage and the pressing need to find her, a flicker of admiration rose up inside him.
She’d climbed the damn tree and scaled the wall to escape him. Shea Jameson was a woman of strength. A witch of great power. And one with a spine stiff enough to take risks she had no business considering. While he could stand to one side and respect her formidable will, he resented the fact that she had risked her life rather than trusting him to protect her.
When he found her, he would make sure he convinced her never to defy him again. She would trust him because it was by damn his due. Hadn’t he been at her side when death had claimed her, lifetime after lifetime? Hadn’t he been waiting for her soul to be reborn so that he could once again pick up the mantle of protector?
Would this not prove to the woman that he had earned his place at her side?
Once on the street, he followed her trail, running through the darkness, at home in the shadows as he was nowhere else. The roar of the ocean thundered in the background as waves crashed against the cliffs. Lights blazed in the houses he passed, but he paid them no mind. What did he