Visions of Skyfire (30 page)

But the house, like the town, was too quiet.

Teresa broke away from him and headed for the front door at a dead run before he could stop her. Rune’s every sense screamed danger. “Teresa! Wait!”

He caught up to her just as the heavy wood door was yanked open. Inside the house, Teresa’s grandmother sat, tied to a chair, her wise brown eyes locked sadly on her granddaughter.

A man stepped from the shadows, put a gun to the old woman’s head and smiled. “Hello, Teresa. Long time, no see.”

“Miguel.”

Chapter 51

“Y
ou son of a bitch,”Teresa spat at her ex-boyfriend.

“You killed all those people?”

“I had help.” He looked to one side, never taking the barrel of the gun from the old woman’s temple, and nodded. Three more men stepped into view from the shadows. “We’re here for you, Teresa,” he said, shifting his gaze back to her. “And the one with you. I know what he is.”

She felt a deep chill as soon as she looked into Miguel’s eyes. He’d always been an abusive creep. But this was different. He’d moved up—or rather down—the food chain, going from simply dangerous to murderous. Teresa’s gaze met her grandmother’s and she was swamped by love and helpless agony.

Chico flew into the room in a brilliant display of color and made a diving swoop at one of the men. He swung his gun up in reaction, but the bird shrieked and flew back outside an instant later. The attacked man crossed himself hurriedly.

“For God’s sake,” Miguel muttered in disgust, “it’s just a damn bird.” Then he turned to Teresa. “Look, I’ll make this easy on you. You tell me where the fucking Artifact is and I let the old woman go.”

Teresa felt Rune stiffen beside her. How did Miguel know about the Artifact?

Miguel smiled. “I know everything. I know that prick with you isn’t human. I know the Artifact is the stuff dreams are made of and I know that if I don’t deliver you to my superiors, I’m a dead man.”

“We can only hope,” Teresa told him, enjoying the flash of anger in his eyes.

“Don’t piss me off,” he warned. “I’ll kill this old witch. One bullet and she’s gone. Just like those in the village.”

Rune’s fingers tangled in hers and Teresa held on, feeling his strength rushing through her. She wanted to call down the lightning, but she couldn’t risk her grandmother’s life. She wanted to simply throw energy at Miguel and watch him light up like a Christmas tree, but again, her grandmother’s life hung in the balance.

Beside her, she felt Rune tensing for an attack and she willed him to be still with a silent tug at his hand. She couldn’t risk it. As much as it pained her, they would have to go along with Miguel. For now, at least.

“Good girl,” Miguel said a moment later, when he read capitulation in her eyes. “You convince the bastard with you to play nice and everybody might live out the day.”

He signaled to one of the men with him and the man walked forward cautiously, keeping his gaze fixed warily on Rune. He held two white-gold chains and Teresa heard Rune take a long, shallow breath, hissed in between gritted teeth.

“Hold still, big guy,” Miguel said. “You make one wrong move, I’ll kill your witch first,
then
the old woman. I don’t care how fast you are with fire, you can’t beat a bullet.”

Teresa knew what it cost Rune to stand idly by and be hampered by a length of white gold. The man-made alloy would dampen his powers, making him easier to control.

“You risk much, human,” Rune said as the man hung the chain around his neck. “There will be payment made for this.”

For just an instant, Miguel looked worried, but his own innate sense of self-importance quickly wiped that out. “Right. Big talk for a guy who just got locked down.”

“Miguel, don’t do this.”

“Are you kidding?” he countered with a laugh. Motioning his partner to go ahead and place the second white-gold chain around Teresa’s neck, he continued. “They’re paying me a
truckload
of money to do this, Teresa. Though to be honest, I’d have done it for free.” His mouth twisted and his gaze swept her up and down dismissively. “Bitch. Think you can dump me? Walk away from
me
? Do you know what kind of shit I had to take from the boss when you walked out?”

“The boss?”

He scowled and shook his head. “Never mind.” Then to the other man he said, “Do it. Lock her down, too.”

She swayed as the effects of the white gold seeped through her. Ice seemed to soak into every pore, flooding every vein and capillary. Her powers were dampened every bit as much as Rune’s. She couldn’t have called down the lightning now, even if she had been willing to take the risk. The draining wash of white gold had closed off her magical abilities. How completely, she didn’t know, but for the moment she was left at Miguel’s less-than-tender mercies.

“Now that that’s taken care of,” Miguel said slyly, “let’s get down to business.”

He slammed the barrel of the gun against her
abuela
’s face. Teresa gasped as a thin trickle of blood ran along the old woman’s deeply lined cheek like a single red tear.

“You bastard! Don’t!” Teresa lunged for him, but Miguel only laughed.

Rune stepped in front of Teresa, blocking her from Miguel’s sight with his own massive form. “You will die,” he said, voice soft and strong and filled with the promise of retribution.

Miguel flinched, but shrugged off the threat. “Everybody dies, fire boy. But if your witch is smart, I’ll die rich. So, Teresa, what’ll it be? Tell me where the Artifact is or watch your precious grandmother slowly get beaten to death?”

Teresa looked from Rune to her grandmother and felt tight bands of frustrated fury tense around her insides. She couldn’t give Miguel what he wanted. She’d only just found a hint of the Artifact’s whereabouts in Serena’s journal a moment before they stumbled on to the carnage in the village. She wasn’t sure yet where it was hidden. And even if she was, she couldn’t tell Miguel. Couldn’t allow the black silver to be set loose in the world again. Couldn’t betray what she was. What her grandmother had taught her to be.

The older woman looked into her eyes and Teresa sensed that her grandmother knew exactly what she was thinking—and that she was proud.

“Teresa,” her
abuela
said softly, “it is no use. They will discover it sooner or later. We must tell them.”

“What? Grandmother,
no.
”

Rune went utterly still.

“Shut up, Teresa,” Miguel ordered, then turned his gaze on the old woman. “Let’s have it. You know where the damn thing is, tell me and I let you go.”

“Let Teresa go,” she said, eyes narrowed on her captor.

“Of course,” Miguel lied smoothly. His smile was ingratiating, but his eyes were as cold as the emptiest, loneliest night.

“
Abuela
, don’t,” Teresa said, knowing now exactly what her grandmother was up to. The old woman didn’t know where the Artifact was, but Miguel had no way of knowing that. She was stalling. Offering up information to win their freedom. But Miguel wasn’t the type to make deals.

“I must, Teresa,” her grandmother said. Then, turning her gaze on the man holding a gun to her head, she muttered, “The Artifact is at Palenque. In the Temple of the Moon.”

“The Mayan site?” Miguel asked.

At the old woman’s sharp nod, he grinned and said, “Thank you.”

Then he shot her.

The report of the pistol boomed into the quiet and Teresa’s scream of pain and fury was its echo. Her grandmother’s body slumped in the chair, blood staining the fabric of her simple blue dress.

“You bastard!” Teresa screamed, and tried to push past Rune’s huge body to get at the man who had just single-handedly ended her family. Clawing and pounding at Rune’s immovable back, Teresa was cut off from the very revenge she wanted so badly she could taste it. “I’ll kill you myself. I swear to God, I will.”

“Temper, Teresa,” Miguel said with a grin as he tucked the pistol away at the small of his back. “You should be grateful. Your dead grandmother just bought you a little more time.”

Then he motioned for his men to take hold of Rune and Teresa, bundling them out to the van waiting for them behind the small house.

Chapter 52

P
resident Cora Sterling studied her daughter’s pinched, pale features and shook her head. “Deidre, you don’t look well at all. Are you sleeping?”

“What? Oh. Yes. I’m fine, Mother.” She pushed asparagus tips across her plate, the tines of her fork scraping against the fine china.

Cora winced. Here in the family dining room, they didn’t really stand on ceremony at meals, but the quiet screech of sound was beginning to get on her nerves. “Could you stop, dear? If you’re not going to eat Chef Patrice’s meal, simply put your fork down.”

“I’m sorry.” Deidre did set the heavy sterling silver fork aside, then smiled at the waiter who deftly removed her plate. Once he had left the room, Deidre reached for her wineglass and took a sip. “Honestly, I guess I’m just not hungry.”

Cora didn’t like this one bit. For more than two weeks now, her daughter had been moody, distant. Completely unlike her normal vibrant self. Which could only mean something was bothering her. “Why don’t you tell me what the trouble is? I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t handle together.”

“There’s no trouble, really.” Her fingers tapped against the Irish linen tablecloth until Cora’s gaze landed on her hand. Deidre huffed out a breath and folded her hands together tightly to keep them still.

“This is about Susan, isn’t it?”

“What?”

Cora smiled. “Your best friend has moved away and you’re feeling a little lost.”

“Oh. Yes, I guess so.” Standing up, Deidre walked to the wide bank of windows overlooking the pristine White House lawn. Under the soft glow of discreetly placed lighting, the neatly trimmed hedges and flower beds looked, Cora knew, almost artificial in their perfection.

Frowning a bit, Cora watched the slump of her daughter’s shoulders and pushed away from the table. A shame to leave such an excellent meal unfinished, but sometimes a mother’s duty came first.

She moved alongside her daughter, draped one arm around her shoulders and said, “I know it’s hard. Losing a friend is never easy, but Susan may yet move back to D.C.”

“I don’t think so,” Deidre murmured.

“Well,” Cora told her, “sadly, I have to say that may be for the best.”

“Why?”

Looking into Deidre’s eyes, Cora smoothed her daughter’s hair back from her face and said, “I think Susan was a little too radical in her beliefs about the witch problem, honey. I saw that easily in the meeting I had here with you and the other RFW members. She was headed for trouble and I’d prefer that you not be with her when she finds it.”

A short, sharp laugh exploded from Deidre’s throat, and she lifted one hand to her mouth to stifle her reaction.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Deidre said, shaking her head. “Nothing at all. I’m sure you’re right. Susan was … passionate about her involvement with RFW.”

“A cool head serves you better than misplaced passion,” Cora said.

“I suppose.” Nodding to herself, Deidre shifted her gaze from the world outside the window to her mother’s keen eyes. “And you should know that I’ve decided to take a step back from RFW for a while myself.”

“Have you?” Delighted to hear it, Cora leaned forward and gave her daughter a fierce hug. “I’m so glad.”

Deidre hugged her back briefly, then pulled away. “I know my being a part of the organization wasn’t easy on you, Mother.”

She wouldn’t deny it. Even other heads of state had begun to question Cora’s authority when her own daughter was a member of what some considered nothing more than a veiled terrorist group.

“No, it wasn’t. Especially now,” Cora said, her lips thinning into a tight line. “After that raid on the internment camp in Nebraska, the papers are in a frenzy, demanding arrests.”

Deidre took a breath and asked, “Have they discovered anything new about that?”

“No.” It pained her to admit it, but there it was. Grimly, Cora said, “The missing witches are still unaccounted for. There are three guards dead and the security tapes—which no doubt caught the whole thing—are missing as well.”

Beside her, Deidre looked concerned and Cora was grateful for the support. Forcing herself to smile, she hugged her girl again and said, “Now don’t you worry, dear. We’ll find those responsible. Meanwhile, why don’t we see what Chef Patrice has for dessert?”

Deidre was silent throughout the rest of the meal, but Cora consoled herself with the fact that at least her daughter ate every last morsel of the brandied pears and cinnamon mousse.

Chapter 53

C
hico swooped into the van to perch on Teresa’s shoulder just before their captors slammed the back doors shut. In the dim interior, Rune tried to catch her gaze. “I’m so sorry about your grandmother, Teresa.”

She shook her head, silent tears streaming down her face. Quickly, she swiped them away with her fingertips, swallowed hard and said, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Nor yours,” he pointed out, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. The bird leaped away and sat itself on the bench seat opposite them. Its beady eyes watched their every movement.

The engine gunned into life and the van jerked forward, Rune and Teresa both swaying with the sudden motion. In seconds they were riding back down the rutted track toward the highway.

Rune ignored everything but the woman leaning against him. “I know what she meant to you. If I could change things, I would.”

“I know that, Rune,” she said and her bottom lip trembled as she fought for control of the emotions raging inside her.

He ached for her, and at the same time he knew she wouldn’t crumble under this latest onslaught of pain. Her strength shone around her like an extra aura, gifting her with the ability to endure, no matter the obstacle.