Visions of Skyfire Read online

  “Yes,” she admitted, staring up into his gray eyes, swirling with power and secrets as old as time. Teresa felt as if he was looking into her mind, though she didn’t feel his presence in her thoughts. Was this new connection between them strong enough for him to sense what she was thinking and feeling?

  If it was, then he would be able to see everything as she thought of what had been happening in her life the last three weeks. There were signs she might have missed if she hadn’t been trained since childhood to be on the lookout for the magical world.

  A black dog seemed to be outside her house day and night. Candles melted and the puddles of wax formed symbols that resonated with a part of her she didn’t recognize. Ancient whorls and circles and symbols of eternity and rebirth. Storms had rolled into Sedona often enough that the TV weatherman was completely flummoxed by what was happening. He couldn’t explain where the storms were coming from or why there were so many of them.

  But she could.

  The electrical energies were being drawn to her. To her power. Her growing strength and burgeoning magic.

  Her dreams were haunted every night, too. Even now, the jumbled images came back to her in a flood. She didn’t understand most of them. Cages built of fire, burning ferociously in what looked like a dark cave with ancient carvings on the walls. People she didn’t know—two women with long red hair, smiling at her, and tall, powerful men like Rune, covered in flames—holding swords crossed over their chests as they took up protective postures.

  In her dreams, she was chased by darkness. She could hear voices whispering behind her and footsteps that raced closer every night. Their pounding beat seemed to resonate within her for hours after she jolted awake, her heart in her throat.

  Frowning, Teresa rubbed her forehead, closed her eyes and tried to focus. To sift through the memories choking her. There were more. Snippets of other lives that weren’t her own. A woman who was her—and yet not—sitting beside a campfire as coyotes howled and the night sky blazed with stars rarely seen now because of city lights. She saw the woman chased into the desert, saw her running in terror. Saw her stumble and fall, and then a rockslide rattled down a mountainside to cover her body.

  And she saw her grandmother’s face. Her abuela had been in every dream. Every vision ended with those well-loved features smiling at her in encouragement. Whispering, “Ahora, Teresa, ahora.”

  Now, Teresa, now.

  “Tell me,” Rune said, the weight of his hands pressing ever more firmly on her shoulders. “Tell me what you see.”

  “My grandmother. I see my grandmother. We have to go to her in Chiapas. Mexico.”

  Chapter 11

  Elena stepped outside, key in hand to lock the clinic door. It was still raining. Seemed like someone in heaven had upended a bucket on Sedona.

  That thought brought a smile despite the trickle of icy water that sneaked beneath the collar of her jacket to roll along her spine. She shivered at the sensation, like a ghostly finger trailing along her skin—then she whirled around to look over her shoulder. She had creeped herself out. Not hard to understand why she was on edge. She knew there were federal agents crawling all over Sedona at that very moment, looking for Teresa.

  Still, she couldn’t afford to appear nervous. Or suspicious. If the people who were after Teresa were watching the clinic, then Elena had to make it look as if nothing was wrong. As if this was just an average day. Thankfully no one was around to see the flash of temper on her features as she quietly fumed.

  How had the world come to this? she wondered. Chasing down women because they were “different.” But she knew the answer as well as anyone else did. Fear. The strongest motivator in the world. Fear could turn ordinary people into a raging mob. The very people Elena served at her clinic would probably turn on her like a pack of rabid dogs if they knew her best friend was a witch.

  So, to protect herself, she would do as Teresa had asked. She would pretend to loathe the woman she loved like a sister, but all the while she would pray to Whoever was listening that Teresa would survive those hunting her.

  A skittering sound reached her and she instantly turned to glance up and down the street, searching the shadows. But she saw only rain and deserted shops and quiet homes.

  “Get a grip, Elena,” she muttered. “No one’s out on a day like this. Just close up and go home.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The deep voice behind her startled her enough that she dropped her keys into the puddle at her feet. Suddenly terrified, she turned slowly and looked into a pair of pale gray eyes. “Who are you?”

  The tall, impossibly gorgeous man gave her a slow once-over that made her feel as though she was standing there naked. Then he said, “We have to talk.”

  At that he scooped up her keys, took her arm and ushered her back into the darkened clinic.

  Chapter 12

  “We can’t go until I get my bird.”

  “Your what?”

  “My bird. It’s a lorikeet and he’s at my house. Alone. I can’t leave him there to starve,” Teresa told him, silently daring him to argue.

  Rune swallowed back a sigh of frustration and fought for patience. “We don’t have time to—”

  “Nonnegotiable,” she said, cutting him off. With her arms crossed over her chest, she met him glare for glare and just for a moment Rune wished that his witch was a timid little thing. Easily intimidated. Willing to take orders.

  He laughed silently at the thought. Hell, he’d lived eons and had yet to meet any woman who met that description. And he would have been bored to tears with her if he had. This woman would never bore him, he knew. His witch remained hotheaded and stubborn. In every incarnation throughout the centuries, she had tormented him and taunted him. She had gone her own way and the devil take any who didn’t approve.

  Theirs had never been an easy path.

  Rune looked at her now, his body healed and his blood still humming from the incredible sex they had just shared, and he felt a flicker of anger jolt through him. She watched him and he could almost feel the animosity sizzling between them where passion had burned only moments before. How were they to accomplish what they must if neither of them could bend? But how was he supposed to release centuries of fury overnight?

  In lifetime after lifetime, the years they had spent together had never been placid. Never calm and soothing. There had always been fire and ice between them, Teresa always determined to keep him at a distance and he continually battling his rage at her choices.

  This was what he had been waiting for—the moment when her powers awoke and they could embrace their destiny. Though he was pleased to at last have the woman meant for him at his side, he didn’t dare trust her to make the right choice this time, either.

  Centuries of experience had taught him caution. He would commence the Mating. He would find the cursed Artifact that was at the center of their shared misery. But he wouldn’t trust her. Wouldn’t allow himself to be fooled again. Not when so much was at stake.

  He shook his head. “It’s not safe for you to return home.”

  “I know that. I want you to get Chico for me.”

  Her eyes were glittering with the light of battle. She expected him to refuse her and was already planning to fight him on the issue. If they couldn’t even leave the bloody city in tune with each other, what were the odds that they could accomplish their quest?

  “You can flame over there and be back here again before anyone even sees you,” she pointed out.

  Their eyes met and clashed, will to will. He might have argued against her wishes if he hadn’t seen a quick flare of hope in her eyes. This was important to her—more so than she was ready to admit.

  “We leave afterward. No arguments.”

  “None,” she promised—too easily, Rune thought, but he would hold her to her word.

  Was he being foolish, giving in to her desire to see her pet to safety? Possibly. But it was more expedient to do as she asked than to stand
here arguing with her. He could, of course, simply grab her and flash her out of Sedona. But they were to be mates, this hardheaded woman and him. Was he really willing to begin their time together with a war that could readily be avoided?

  Rune would do whatever he had to do to make sure his witch was safe and their quest successful.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “Wait here.”

  He called on the flames, let them sweep over him in a cascading, living blanket of blues and reds and yellows. He looked at her through the fire, then vanished.

  Chapter 13

  “She was here, yes?”

  “Who?” There was only one person this man could have been interested in, but she wouldn’t let him know she knew that.

  He was so big, she thought wildly. He took up so much space that his very presence in the room with her felt like a direct threat. Just by breathing, he seemed to ooze menace, until Elena felt the cold chill of fear sliding into her bones.

  Well over six feet tall, he had a thick, muscular build that would have made him popular on a football field. His hair was long, past his shoulders, and the color of new wheat. But it was his eyes that held her attention. Shades of pewter swirled in their depths as he stared at her, and for a moment she thought she saw flames licking at their centers.

  When he smiled, it was a mere curve of his lips, as if he was mimicking something he’d seen once but didn’t completely understand.

  She had no idea who he was, but clearly he was after Teresa. Elena had never seen him before and his appearance minutes after her best friend left was a bit too coincidental. But if he was after Teresa, he wouldn’t get any help from Elena. She would never betray her friend.

  “Teresa Santiago,” he said. “Where is she?”

  Suspicions confirmed, Elena hid her fear behind a blank mask. “I have no idea.”

  “Is that right,” the man mused, running one hand across the receptionist’s desk.

  Elena’s breath caught as she noticed the trail of flames following in the wake of his hand’s movement. “How—”

  He shot her a look and those gray eyes of his went cold, dispassionate. Like a winter sky about to spit snow on unsuspecting people.

  “You know how,” he said, walking back to her, leaving behind him a line of flames that swept across the desk to devour the paperwork stacked there.

  The crackle and hiss of the spreading fire shot ribbons of sheer panic through Elena. Magic. And not the Mother-Nature-protect-the-earth kind that Teresa had been born to wield. This was the kind of threatening power that had people terrified of the supernatural. And right at that moment Elena totally understood.

  She was alone with someone who could set her on fire at his whim and she had no defense. But she was still safer than her friend. This man knew that Elena was no threat to him. If, on the other hand, he caught up to Teresa, there was no telling what he would do to her. So it was up to Elena to keep that from happening. She wasn’t a witch. She wasn’t in trouble with the MPs or the Bureau of Witchcraft. But she had the distinct feeling that this man had nothing to do with the feds.

  He was clearly magical himself, so whatever his reason for looking for Teresa, it wasn’t to lock her away in prison. There was something else going on here. Elena wondered if Teresa even knew that she had more to worry about than the federal agents assigned to track her down.

  Once she got out of this, Elena promised herself, she’d find a way to warn Teresa about the newest danger. And she would get out of this. After all, she was a doctor, not a witch. This guy had no reason to hurt her. Neither did the feds. She was no threat to anyone. So all she had to do, she assured herself silently, was to be cooperative—within reason—and then he’d go away.

  Please, God, let him go away.

  Over the snap and hiss of the fire Elena whispered, “Who are you?”

  Before answering, he touched her desk once more and the flames instantly died, snapping out as if they’d never been. She could almost have convinced herself she’d imagined everything—but for the charred pieces of paper and the curled edges of the manila folders. She swallowed hard and tried to find the courage she would need to stand against a man like this. And as that thought whispered through her mind, he turned his head and gave her that cold, empty smile again. As if he knew exactly what she was thinking—and found it amusing.

  “Who am I?” he repeated, his voice a deep rumble. “Interesting question. One I’ve asked myself many times and I’ve yet to find the answer.”

  Great. Riddles.

  “Seems simple enough to me,” Elena said, sidling closer to the desk. If she could just tip the receiver slightly off its cradle and hit 911, she could get help. Please, God—she needed help. “You do have a name, don’t you?”

  “Don’t all beings have names … Elena?”

  Her heart kicked into a gallop. Hearing her own name on his lips was intimate. Terrifying. “So what’s yours?”

  “Why do you want to know, I wonder.” He followed her slight movement across the room. “Could you be stalling? Trying to buy your friend time?”

  “Friend?” She glanced around, anywhere but into his eyes. She quickly noted the everyday ordinariness of her clinic. The coloring books scattered across a child-sized table. The baby bottle someone had left behind. The candy-coated air, now smeared with the lingering traces of burned paper.

  “Teresa Santiago,” he said and all trace of amusement was gone from his features. “Where is she, Elena?”

  She stopped. Only a foot or two from the desk and she stopped dead, sensing the danger suddenly erupting between her and the man with the pale storm-colored eyes. She felt the coiled tension vibrating off him and shared it. Her mouth was dry, her palms were damp and panic was scraping at her throat. Still, she found the courage to look right at him and lie. “I don’t know.”

  He sighed and clucked his tongue at her. “You’re lying.”

  “No.” She shook her head for emphasis and prayed he would believe her. “I haven’t seen Teresa in—”

  “Hours?” He finished for her, taking a step closer. “Minutes?”

  “No. Weeks.” She told the lie and lifted her chin as if to convince both of them that she was giving him nothing but the truth. “She’s a witch, you know—”

  “Yes,” he said softly. “I know.”

  “Well, when I found out what she was, I tried to turn her in, but she, um—” Elena took another half step toward the desk, hoping he would put her movement down to nervous confusion. “She threatened me,” Elena said, hoping to hell that she was putting just enough surprise in her tone.

  “Did she?” He walked toward her and before she could blink, he had his hand on the phone and was shaking his head. “No phone calls, Elena. We’re not through talking yet.”

  Disappointment welled up inside her. She’d been so close to calling for help. And now …

  “What do you want from me?” she managed to ask. Her abject fear must have been written on her features, because he shook his head again.

  “I’m not a rapist, so have no fears there.”

  One fear down, about a hundred to go, Elena thought wildly. “I can’t help you,” she said, her voice low, words tumbling over each other in her haste to get him out of her world. “I don’t know where Teresa is.”

  “I know she was here.” He reached out to stroke the tips of his fingers along her jawline.

  Elena shuddered, half expecting to feel the burning sting of fire on her skin. But his touch was cold. As cold as his eyes.

  “I can feel the lingering trace of her magic,” he told her, “so there’s no sense lying to me.”

  Oh, God. She swallowed hard and fought to keep her voice steady as she asked again, “Who are you?”

  “My name,” he said, “is Parnell. And all you need to know is that I’m looking for Teresa. You can either help me and live to tell the tale, or …”

  He didn’t have to finish the threat. Heck, leaving it unsaid did far more internal damage. E
lena’s mind took over the challenge and filled in that unfinished sentence with any number of horrifying possibilities. And she had no way to defend herself against any of them. She was at his mercy and judging by the cool dispassion in those gray eyes, mercy was not something Parnell was very familiar with.

  “Parnell,” she said, using his name deliberately, to forge some bare-bones connection with him. To force him to see her as a person and not just an impediment to what he wanted. “I don’t know what you think I know, but I can assure you—”

  He smiled. “Another lie. I can smell them on you, you know. Your blood chemistry changes. Humans are very … predictable in their responses.”

  “Humans?” Fear ratcheted up inside her. Just when she had thought she was as panicked as it was possible to be and still live, she found out there was more.

  Yes, she knew he had magical abilities. But so did Teresa and she was human. How could he not be? What was he? If he wasn’t human, what exactly was she dealing with and how in the hell was she going to survive? “You’re not—”

  “No, I’m not. Haven’t you already noticed that I’m something a little more than your average male?”

  Yes, she had. The trail of fire across her desk had given her that much information. But what was he? Witches were women. Were there other forms of supernatural beings out there that the world hadn’t discovered yet? Well, why not? If witchcraft was alive and well, why not a man made of fire?

  “Ah,” he said, watching her. “I see that I’ve made my point. Maybe you’re ready to be more cooperative now?”

  “Yes.” She set her purse down on the nearby desk and reminded herself to breathe. “What do you want to know?”

  “Where did Teresa go?”

  “I really don’t know,” she told him and waited for his super-sensitive nose to pick up on the fact that she was telling the absolute truth.

  Parnell smiled and nodded. “Very good. Keep being honest with me and we’ll get along just fine, Elena.”