warning sirens wailed as word spread of his presence. He paid them no mind.
Women in the cells awoke at the noise and started calling out to each other. And to him. He listened for one voice in particular and wasn’t surprised when he didn’t hear it. The time for stealth was past, so he called out, “Shea Jameson! Are you here?”
“Get us out of here,” a woman shouted back.
Other voices joined that refrain.
“Who are you?”
“What are you?”
“Help!”
His long legs ate up the vast hall separating two rows of cells. The white gold continued to affect him, but its presence wasn’t strong enough to completely incapacitate him. He felt the drain on his powers but refused to surrender to it, calling on his own inner strength to keep going. Nothing in this world or the next would keep him from his woman.
“Is Shea Jameson here?” He suspected she wasn’t and yet he called out anyway, determined to leave no stone unturned. His shout thundered over the women’s softer cries and for a split second, silence followed.
“Don’t know who she is.” A woman in the last cell answered him, her voice confidently shattering the quiet. She stepped up to the bars, grabbed hold of them and gave them an impotent shake. “Can you get us out of here?”
He stopped to look into her pale blue eyes, reading the fear and frustration written there. She tore at him, this nameless prisoner. As they all did. If he could have, he would have freed all of them. He was an Eternal, created to protect and defend; it went against every instinct he possessed to stand by as any female—especially a witch—was harmed in any way.
Even with the white gold chain around her neck and the bars separating them, he could sense her power, brutally buried within her. Fury for those who would cage women such as her—such as Shea—swept through him. But he had a mission. One that didn’t include playing hero.
“I cannot,” he said. He didn’t have the time to linger and had no way to get the woman to safety if he did help her escape. As it was, precious seconds were already gone. Rune was no doubt on his way to meet him and Torin hadn’t found Shea. Or even a trace of her.
“Damn it,” he whispered, as a sense of unease crept through him. He was wasting time while Shea was being held somewhere else, in a place too much like this one.
The witch stretched one arm through the bars for him, but couldn’t quite reach. Her fingers closed helplessly into her palm. Blowing out a breath, she whispered, “You’re an Eternal.”
Shocked, Torin narrowed his gaze on her. The Eternals were legend among witches, he knew. Their existence wasn’t a secret. But how had she recognized him as such? He felt no recognition for her. A buzz of warning slid through Torin’s veins. “How do you know of us?”
She laughed shortly. “Word travels,” she told him, running one hand through her short, spiky black hair. “When witches get together, we share information. I ran into a woman a year or so ago who told me about you guys.”
“How do you know I am one of them?”
She shrugged. “Who else could have gotten in here?”
Accepting that, he stepped closer and caught her scent, an earthy aroma that reminded him of both forest and sea. It was a blend of scents that usually clung to women with magical abilities. As if the elements themselves, gathering in the woman’s blood, were surfacing through her pores, allowing her to be one with nature and the very earth that would bolster her magic. There was something else here, too, he thought, trying to make sense of it.
“Who told you of us?” Was there another Awakened witch out there that they must find? He had thought Shea to be the first. And if there was another, where was her Eternal? Why hadn’t he found her?
Though there were witches all across the globe, there were only a select few to whom Eternals were bound. They were the chosen ones. Members of the once mighty coven that had paid a deadly price for their arrogance eons ago.
Instantly, the witch behind the bars shook her head. Face pale, eyes blazing, she said, “I’ll only tell you if you get me out.”
Still the sirens blared, shattering the night. Women up and down the cellblock screamed and cried out for help. At the end of the long, dark hall, the steel