Visions of Chains Read online

  He uncapped the water and took a long drink. “Interesting question. A few days ago, I would have said there was one Eternal for every member of your coven.”

  Her coven. She shivered as a wisp of memory floated through her mind. She couldn’t catch it. Couldn’t quite see it, but it was there. The word coven had triggered something inside her. Too bad she didn’t know what the hell it was.

  “And now?”

  His gaze locked on hers. “Now we know that there are other immortals out there. Working against us. Against you.”

  She took a fast swallow of water and almost choked, since her throat was nearly closed by a knot of fear. “There are immortals after me as well as the MPs and BOW? Aren’t I popular.”

  “Belle of the ball.” He nodded. “And don’t forget the Seekers and just your random psycho citizen, either.”

  “Oh, God.” She had forgotten about the Seekers. They were a small but growing group whose mission was to capture known witches and find a way to leech off their magical powers. The head of that group, the notorious Dr. Fender, was a torture master. The few women Deidre had seen who had survived their time on Dr. Fender’s table had wished they hadn’t.

  “This just gets worse and worse,” she murmured.

  “Yeah. And we’re just getting started.”

  “Way to cheer me up,” she snapped.

  “I’m not here to pretend everything’s shiny and rosy,” he told her flatly. “I’m here to keep you alive. To help you reclaim your share of the Artifact.”

  “What Artifact?” Another drink of water and Lord how she wished it was vodka.

  “Long story.”

  “Then don’t tell me. I just want to go home.”

  “Already told you that you can’t.”

  “Why not?” Fine. Stupid question and she knew it. She’d never be able to go home again. Because her life as she knew it was gone forever. Even if those guards hadn’t recognized her, the members of Finn’s happy little team here all knew who she was and weren’t exactly big fans. Even knowing she was a witch didn’t take away the inherent threat of her mother being the president.

  And because she knew it wasn’t possible, all she wanted in the world was to be curled up on her couch with a cup of hot tea and the stereo blasting out a little Led Zeppelin. She liked the new stuff fine, but when you wanted to relax, the key was classic rock.

  Finn scowled at her and Deidre realized that in the few hours she’d known him, this was his most common expression.

  “You’re kidding, right? You just took center stage on a damn raid, Deidre.”

  She argued, because she didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that he was right. “No one knows it was me.”

  “We don’t know that.” Shaking his head in pure frustration, he continued before she could argue. “Besides, even if they don’t know about you, there are other things to worry about, remember? I just laid ’em all out for you—and that was just the tip of it, babe. Witches, in case you hadn’t noticed, have become an endangered species.”

  They had. And she was one of them now. She capped her water bottle, then held on to it as if it were a lifeline tossed to her in a stormy sea. “I can’t just hide. I have a life. People will be looking for me. Did you forget my mother is the president?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Well, then, think about this,” she said, words tumbling over each other in her rush to make her point. “There are Secret Service men standing outside Shauna’s apartment. When I don’t come out this morning, they’re going to go in and look for me. If I’m not there . . .”

  “Can’t be helped,” he said, swirling gray eyes locked on her.

  “Damn it, Finn, I can’t just stay here.”

  Yes, she was scared. And overwhelmed and more than a little panicky. But she needed to get away from here. She needed something normal. Even if it was a lie, she needed to feel like nothing had changed. At least for a little while. Until she’d had time to think. To plan. To figure out how she was going to deal with her new reality.

  “You will stay. As for your guards, they mean nothing.”

  “They mean something to me. And to my mother.” She stopped and groaned. “God, what will I tell my mother?”

  “Not a damn thing,” Finn growled. “She’s the president.”

  “Exactly,” Deidre argued. “Who better to have on my side?”

  He looked at her with what could have passed for sympathy on someone else. But Finn didn’t strike Deidre as the feel-sorry-for-you type. A minute later, he proved her right by saying, “You don’t know that she would be on your side. She’s got a lot of people to answer to and if word gets out that you’re a witch . . .”

  He let his words trail off and Deidre was glad for it. Her mind was already wrestling with possibilities. Her mother hadn’t been able to put a stop to witch executions. As president, she could suggest and advise, but the Congress and the Senate held the real power and they had already proved that they were all for what they called “cleansing.” Plus, even if she had wanted to use a presidential pardon, she would turn the whole country on its ear. There would be even more violence than there was now, with riots and protests from the majority of the people who wanted the witches kept locked away or killed.

  Finn was right. Her mother may not be able to protect her. And, if Deidre drew attention as a witch, what would happen to her mother? They might suspect her of witchcraft too. At the very least, she might be impeached. At the worst, imprisoned. Or tortured.

  God, this was a nightmare. She couldn’t go to her mother and couldn’t not go.

  “Deidre, you’re not leaving.” He held up one hand before she could argue.

  “I can’t stay locked down here forever.” God, just the thought of being trapped belowground, looking up and seeing stone instead of sky, made her cringe. Glancing at the bottle of water in her hands, she watched the liquid slosh back and forth, trapped in its plastic cage. Suddenly, she knew what that felt like. “I’d rather take my chances topside.”

  “You don’t get it. Without me, you’ve got no chance at survival.” Finn tossed his water bottle down, stalked across the room and grabbed her shoulders. Jerking her in close to him, he stared down at her, his pale gray eyes nearly glowing.

  “Let me go.”

  “Not gonna happen.” His voice was low, tight. “I told you about the other immortals. We only just discovered their existence. They’re the ‘Forgotten’ Eternals. They’ve got magical abilities and a serious rage on because they were ignored by our god, Belen. Now we think they’re after you and the other members of the coven—”

  “I’m not a member of a coven,” she argued, though that word rippled inside her again.

  “—the coven you once belonged to. These Forgotten want to take the witches and the Artifact and claim all the power for themselves.” He looked at her, pale gray eyes swirling with secrets and powers she could barely understand. “We won’t let that happen. So you’re not going anywhere. Deal with it.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what I can do and where I can go?” She pulled free of his grasp, and stumbled back a step or two.

  “I told you before. I’m your Eternal.”

  This time, when he said it, it set off something inside her that felt oddly like champagne bubbles racing through her veins. Insane. All of it. Why would she feel anything for the guy who had had her kidnapped, for God’s sake?

  “Start dealing with this, Deidre. We don’t have time to baby you.”

  “Baby me? You son of a bitch, I’ve been kidnapped, forced out on a raid, seen my friend shot and, oh yeah, found out I’m a witch. I think I’m doing pretty well on the dealing-with-it front.”

  He stepped in close, taking her upper arms in a hard grip. Heat poured from his body into hers in a steady, dizzy
ing stream that made her feel as if her blood was about to boil. She felt something more too. A connection to him. As if tendrils of something mystical linked them together, tightening with every moment, every breath. She fought against that sensation. Deidre didn’t want any of this. Didn’t want anything from him.

  Especially when she didn’t see the slightest spark of warmth in his eyes.

  “You’re a witch of immeasurable power,” Finn said, his voice a low roll of thunder that resonated inside her. “You have genetic memories stored in your mind. Once you find the key to open them, we’ll have the information we need to do what we must.”

  “Which is what exactly?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted into a mocking smile as he released her. “Save the world.”

  Chapter 11

  “Do you know what Mare Superum means?”

  Spell completed, the Eternals had returned to join their Mates. Now, Torin stared down at Shea. His witch wore the traditional one-shouldered white robe, her left breast uncovered, so that her Mating tattoo was bared to the room. Ordinarily, seeing the line of individual flames that began at her nipple, coiled around her breast to spread beneath her arm and up over her shoulder, was enough to make him hard as rock.

  But her words stopped that thought dead in its tracks. “Mare Superum. Is that what Egan said?”

  “Yes,” Mairi answered him, stepping into the circle of her Mate Damyn’s arms. Her left breast was stained with roses and Damyn carried a matching brand. As all Eternals did with their destined Mates. “It was awful. He’s . . .”

  “Crazed,” Teresa finished for her. “Seriously crazed and half insane.” She took Rune’s hand as he helped her up from the floor. Then she stood, her back to his front, the lightning bolts of her tattoo clearly defined against her dusky skin. “Can’t blame him, but he’s not looking good, you guys.”

  “But he’s alive,” Torin insisted.

  “Yes,” Shea said, lifting one hand to lay it atop the matching branding tattoo on his chest. Beneath her palm, his heartbeat thundered. Another gift from his Mate. A heartbeat to measure out their eternity together. “He’s alive, Torin, but—”

  “If he’s alive,” Damyn said tightly, “that’s all that matters. You’re sure he said Mare Superum?”

  “Definitely,” Mairi told him. “Do you know where that is?”

  “Yeah.” Rune pulled Teresa in tight to him and wrapped one arm around her. “Egan always did prefer the ancient names for things. Claimed he couldn’t get used to the way humans were always changing things up. Truth is, he was just stubborn.”

  “So where is he?” Shea asked the question.

  Torin met the gazes of his fellow Eternals before looking back down at the woman who had claimed his heart and saved his soul. “Mare Superum is the Latin name for the Adriatic Sea. He must be there. Somewhere off the coast of Italy.”

  Shea wrapped her arms around Torin’s waist and laid her head on his chest. “I was hoping for something a little less vague. That’s a big sea, Torin. It won’t be easy to find him.”

  “You guys narrowed it down for us,” Rune pointed out, dropping a kiss on Teresa’s forehead. “Without you three, we’d have had to search every ocean, lake and pond on the planet. One little sea? No problem.”

  Teresa slapped his flat abdomen. “Such a show-off.”

  “That’s why you love me, baby.”

  “Teresa was right,” Mairi said. “Egan was . . . almost rabid. I felt his rage. All consuming. Terrifying. Madness is claiming him and I don’t know that he will ever recover.”

  “Mairi . . .” Damyn’s voice was a hush.

  But his Mate shook her head and said aloud what they were all considering. “If Egan’s mind is lost, the Awakening is over. If his Mate truly is the one who trapped him at the bottom of the sea, he won’t be willing to complete the Mating with her. He’s more likely to kill her on sight.”

  “We worry about the rest after we find him,” Torin said quietly. Damyn and Rune both nodded solemnly. One of their own, one of their brothers was alive and in constant agony. No matter what else happened, they would free him.

  “But if the Awakening isn’t completed,” Shea whispered, “we all lose and demons will overrun the earth.”

  “It won’t happen,” Rune said decisively, unconsciously shifting into a battle stance.

  “Bring Egan here,” Mairi said, leaning into her Mate. “Haven’s strength will heal him. We’ll all help.”

  Damyn smiled down at her, smoothing her red hair back from her face with a tender touch. “You are the heart of me, woman.”

  “Give us another day,” Mairi said with a smile for Damyn. “We’ll do another spell, try to narrow down the search a bit more.”

  Damyn nodded. “All right then, it’s settled. We’ve got a starting point. Next we find Egan and bring him home.”

  Deidre staggered a little. “You’re serious.”

  “Deadly.”

  Either he was completely batshit crazy or she was in serious trouble. Fighting down the wave of panic that rushed up from the pit of her stomach to clog her throat, she shook her head. “No. No way. I barely managed to help save a few witches. And you expected me to save the world?”

  Looking down at the water bottle in her hands, Deidre thought about trying to focus this new power inside her and seeing whether she could actually turn the clear liquid into the vodka she really needed at the moment.

  “Yes.” He paced slowly around the circumference of the room and her gaze followed his every move.

  “I’ve spent a lot of time in these tunnels over the last decade or so,” he mused, shifting his gaze to encompass the ceiling and walls. “Once your mother brought you here to DC, I knew this was where you would Awaken. Knew we’d need a place.”

  She nodded as if she understood, but she so didn’t. He’d spent a decade here? Waiting for her? Watching over her? God, could this get any more convoluted? She didn’t know whether to be flattered, appreciative or pissed. He’d watched over her. In secret. Protecting her or waiting for his chance at her? Should she be grateful? No, Deidre didn’t think she could go that far.

  He waved one hand. “Brought in crystals for the walls.”

  “They’re pretty,” she said, barely giving them a glance.

  “They’re magical,” he corrected, throwing a quick look at her. “While you’re in this room, the crystals will strengthen your power. Help grow your magic.”

  She nodded, agreeing without comprehending. The situation was too strange and she still needed to find a way to get her bearings. But she could admit to feeling a buzz of sensation on her skin. She had since the moment she’d stepped into this chamber. At least now, she knew what it was.

  “I built this place for you, Deidre.”

  “Thank you?” What the hell was she supposed to say to that? He’d been waiting for her for centuries? She was a witch? Destined to save the world? None of this made sense. None of it could be real.

  Over the years, she’d listened to the stories of rescued witches. She’d heard time and again how the eruption of their power had totally surprised them. How they’d had no idea of who they were prior to that. And always, there had been a tiny kernel of doubt in Deidre’s mind and heart.

  She hadn’t been able to understand how any woman could be caught off guard by something that was so inherently a part of them. How they could have been clueless about their true nature.

  Man, she really owed those women a huge apology.

  Her heartbeat was thundering in her ears. Down the tunnel somewhere her friend was bleeding and escaped witches were huddled together trying not to get too hopeful about a shot at freedom.

  And Deidre Sterling was supposed to save the world?

  It was laughable.

  So why did
she want to scream?

  As if she’d conjured the sound with her thoughts, an ear-piercing scream shattered the stillness. Deidre jolted and spun around to face the empty doorway. The scream seemed to echo over and over along the darkness of the snaking tunnels before being cut off, abruptly.

  “Damn it!” A shout followed that all too brief scream.

  Before Deidre could take a step, Finn shouted, “Stay here!” and bolted from the cave into the tunnels.

  Sure, that was going to happen. No way was she staying in this crystal-studded magical cave by herself. Not that she trusted Finn or anything, but just the thought of being alone in the twisting labyrinth of these tunnels was enough to have her running after the man. Fear crawled up her throat and knotted there, but fear was almost becoming familiar now. Not a friend, but certainly not a stranger.

  She heard him, far ahead of her, his heavy footsteps pounding against the dirt and rock. Deidre slapped her right hand onto the damp tunnel wall to guide her as she ran down the darkened passage. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, but all she could make out were lighter and darker patches of black. Right about now, she missed those dancing flashlight beams from earlier.

  Deep, vicious growls rolled through the tunnels, echoing off the stone walls and even muffled as the sound was, the hairs at the back of her neck stood straight up. Her running steps faltered. Then two gunshots came so closely together it was one huge explosive noise.

  Finn’s pace sped up, his long legs making it impossible for her to catch up with him. The most she could hope for was to follow the sound of his passage, though that was bringing her closer to the growls and—another scream.

  Ahead, a spill of pale light poured from the main chamber and she ran toward it like a soul aimed at the gates of heaven. She skidded at the entrance, the bottoms of her shoes sliding across the rough floor.

  Deidre grabbed hold of both sides of the arched entrance and stared. Lanterns were lit and the small band of guerillas was spread around the room.

  Joe was partially blocking the entrance, his arms stretched in front of him as he took aim at something Deidre couldn’t see. Finn stood in the center of the chamber, legs braced, booted feet spread wide in a fighting stance. In the space of a single heartbeat, Deidre’s gaze swept what she could see of the rest of the room.