do with what she had. On the plus side, she thought wryly, she wouldn’t need matches. Even without Rune around, she was still funneling magic drawn from lightning, and fire was becoming a way of life for her, too.
She met up with Rune at the counter and nearly laughed when she saw him pull a wallet and money from his back pocket. Funny, but she hadn’t even considered that a magical being would have cash on hand. The old man rang up their purchases without once looking at their faces.
Teresa was starting to get another bad feeling and judging by the tension she sensed coming off Rune in waves, he was experiencing the same thing. She was anxious to get out of the store, leave the village behind and disappear into the desert.
Finally they were finished. Rune took the bag of groceries, held on to Teresa’s elbow with his free hand and steered her out of the store. Chico flew right at them, whistling sharply as he dove and swooped wildly.
Rune dropped the bag of supplies at their feet. In the next instant, he dropped into a half crouch in front of her and whipped the knife free in the same movement.
Chico’s whistle sounded again as the bird flew into the shadows like a brightly colored missile. Teresa heard someone shriek in pain. She stood behind Rune, looked into the darkness and saw three men running at them. One of them had blood streaking along one side of his face, probably thanks to Chico’s claws.
Fear washed over her just as Chico’s shrill voice shouted, “Run for it!”
Chapter 22
Kellyn was on hold.
On hold.
Her fingers tightened around the cell phone until she was surprised the tiny device didn’t simply shatter in her hand.
The Presidential Suite at the Ritz-Carlton, D.C., felt claustrophobic as she waited, listening to silence, wondering what the hell was going on at the damn lab. The mortals in her little cadre were getting completely out of hand. They were treating her as if she was one of them. As if she didn’t have enough power in her little finger to send them all into a caldera.
Which she just might do if someone didn’t answer the bloody—
“Henry Fender speaking.”
She huffed out a breath as the familiar masculine voice came on the line. “Dr. Fender,” she said, congratulating herself silently on the calm, even tone she maintained.
“Kellyn,” he replied. “How nice to hear from you.” Nice?
Henry Fender was the head of the Seekers. A national organization that ostensibly existed to find a way to steal magical abilities from the witches it captured. In reality, of course, Henry was looking for so much more.
The fact that the membership of his organization actually believed that Henry would share one iota of power with them only gave credence to just how convincing Henry could be—or, she thought with a smile, just how gullible humans were.
She drew his image up in her mind. He looked like everyone’s fantasy version of a lovable grandfather. Though he was only in his fifties, he had a full head of flyaway gray hair that fed into the appearance of geniality. His cool blue eyes were hidden behind round glasses and his voice, always soft and caring, gave the impression of gentleness.
Amazing just how far off impressions could be from reality.
Of course, Kellyn had known just what kind of man Henry Fender was the moment she met him. But then, she had powers of perception that most didn’t. Lucky her.
She pushed off the sofa and walked barefoot to the private veranda off her suite. The view of Washington was spectacular and as she stared at the city lights shining below her in the distance, she said, “I’ve been waiting for an update on your latest acquisition, Doctor. And I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that I’m not a patient person.”
“No, of course not.” He paused, as if measuring his words. “I was preparing my notes before calling both you and our associate.”
Careful, she thought. At least he was intelligent enough to be careful about what he said over an open phone line. With federal agencies forever expanding their snooping policies, one just never knew when a line might be tapped. She could spell the line to protect their conversation, but frankly, she simply didn’t care enough to do that. If Fender was caught, it wouldn’t affect her. And what could any federal agency do to her?
Although no sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she was reminded