Circle of Death (5 page)

M
AGIC BURNED ACROSS
D
OYLE
’
S SKIN
,
A TOUCH AS
warm as her fingers were cold. Fear flitted briefly through the vibrant depths of her eyes, though whether it was fear of him or the situation, he couldn’t say. Maybe it was both.

Right now, though, it didn’t matter. It was more important that they got out of here.
Manarei
usually traveled in pairs. There would be another out there in the darkness, and it would have felt the death of its mate.

Somehow, he had to get Kirby into the car without alarming her any further—no easy task, he suspected. Especially if she noticed the
manarei
was beginning to melt away.

He stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the creature. “You need those wounds tended to.”

It sounded rather lame, but he couldn’t think of anything else. He certainly couldn’t force her into the car—not when the thrum of magic pulsed between them. Light danced across her fingertips, a gentle play of energy that lit the night with miniature thrusts of lightning. Though he’d never come across anything like it before, one thing was clear: one wrong move and that
energy would be aimed at him. And that, he suspected, would
not
be pretty.

“So you’re offering to drive me to the nearest hospital?” She pulled her arm from his grasp and wavered on one leg. “Why?”

“Because you’re going to bleed to death if you don’t get help soon.” The emergency room was actually the last place he wanted to take her. There were too many people—and too many forms the
manarei
could assume.

“And you’re what? The local neighborhood watch out on evening patrol? And I suppose you just happened to have a gun handy in the glove compartment?”

Implying, no doubt, that he was up to no good. Once upon a time that might have been true, but not these days. Not since he’d joined the Circle. “Listen, all I’m trying to do is save your ass.” Irritation bit through his words. He thrust a hand through his hair and tried to remain calm.

She snorted softly. “Why the hell would you have any interest in saving my ass? You don’t even know me.”

“But I know a fine ass when I see one, and yours certainly deserves to be saved.” His irritation was more obvious this time, and he took a deep breath. Damn it, why was her distrust affecting him? Although, in her shoes, he probably would have used his magic first and asked questions later.

A startled look crossed her face and, for a moment, a smile touched her lips. It transformed her features, changing them from pretty to extraordinary.

“Compliments aren’t going to get you anywhere, chum.”

Her tone was still tart, despite the lingering warmth
on her lips. Lips he suddenly had difficulty tearing his gaze away from.

“Tell me how you know my name, and why you’re really here,” she said, a slight flush invading her cheeks.

Before he could answer, a howl ran across the night. It was a high-pitched wail of distress that sounded more human than animal. The
manarei
’s mate giving voice to its grief.

Time was running out. Though he still had four silver bullets in the gun, facing a grief-stricken
manarei
was an entirely different proposition from facing one in a feeding frenzy. Given the option, he preferred to run.

Her gaze searched the night, and her voice was soft, edged with fear. “That creature had a mate?”

Doyle raised his eyebrows, wondering how she knew. “Yeah. And it’s going to be a little pissed that we killed him. We have to get out of here.”

“Why didn’t you just say that earlier, instead of rambling on about the hospital?”

Her gaze met his. It seemed to delve right to his soul, tasting secrets he’d rather keep hidden. “I didn’t want to alarm you more than necessary.”

She snorted again. “Like my night hasn’t been one huge, monster-filled nightmare already.”

And she was counting
him
as one of those monsters, at least until she knew who and what he was—something he was in no hurry to tell her. “Can we just get in the car?”

He touched her elbow. Warmth flared, washing electricity between them. Not her magic but something deeper, something more basic. Her gaze flicked to his, startled, but she didn’t pull away, didn’t run.
Though only, he suspected, because the other
manarei
was still out there hunting her.

He helped her over to the car and opened the door. The lightning still danced across her fingers, stronger now than it had been before. He wondered what her magic was, and why she hadn’t used it against the
manarei.

Another scream cut across the night, closer than before. Doyle slammed the door shut and hurried around to the driver’s side. The wind whipped around him, bringing with it the scent of death.
Their
death, if they didn’t get out of here.

He started the engine, switched on the lights and threw the car into gear. The wheels spun on the wet road for several seconds before the car lurched forward.

“You know, you neatly avoided answering my question before.”

She was leaning against the door, as far away from him as she could possibly get. Her arms were crossed, hands hidden, but he sensed this was less a defensive gesture and more an effort to keep warm. She must have been out in the rain for some time, because she looked soaked.

He leaned forward and switched the heater to full blast. “And what question would that be?”

She made an exasperated sound. “Why are you here?” she repeated. “And how do you know my name?”

The lights changed to red up ahead. Doyle braked and glanced at the rearview mirror. Though he couldn’t see anything, he knew the
manarei
was out there. Its grief was so strong the night reeked with it.

“I’m here because an old witch told me to be.”

“And I suppose this old witch just happened to tell you my name, as well?” Her voice was sharp with disbelief.

“Actually, yes, she did.” He shifted gears and edged forward, wishing the lights would hurry up and change again.

“I see.”

The tone of her voice told him she didn’t. She stared out the window for several seconds. Tension rode her slender frame.
Ready to run
, Doyle thought, and he knew that if she did, she’d die.

“Look,” he said, trying to keep his voice as calm and nonthreatening as possible, “I’m a private investigator. I’m working on a case that bears striking similarities to what happened to your friend tonight, and I came to investigate. That’s all, nothing more.”

Though this was a lie. In truth, he’d been sent out in advance of the murders, but he knew she would never believe that.

Her eyes narrowed. “Then why did you stop back there? Why come down Grice Street at all if you were going to my place?”

He shrugged. “I got lost.” The lights finally went green. He pressed the accelerator and sped off.

She studied him for several long seconds. “You’re a liar, Doyle Fitzgerald.”

He glanced at her. Her green eyes were flecked with silver and gleamed brightly in the darkness. So pretty, and yet so full of anguish and mistrust. “I’m not lying about the reason I’m here.”

“Maybe.” She looked away. “And maybe you’d better just stop and let me—” She hesitated, and gasped.

The shadows moved ahead, and the streetlights
gleamed off the metal garbage can hurtling toward them. Doyle braked hard, and the car slewed sideways. The can hit the hood of the car, then bounced into the windshield, sending a web of cracks racing through the glass before rolling off into the rain-swept darkness.

Through the cracks, Doyle could see the
manarei
, eyes gleaming yellow fire as it raced toward them. He cursed and threw the gears into reverse. The tires spun, then gripped, and the car lurched backward.

But not nearly fast enough.

“Look out!” Kirby screamed a second before something heavy again hit the hood.

Glass shattered, flying everywhere. Kirby screamed again, a sound lost to the
manarei
’s howl. It reached through the large hole it had created in the windshield, claws slashing wildly. Doyle braked, but the sudden stop failed to dislodge the creature. He thrust the car into neutral, then threw a punch, connecting with the creature’s jaw. The force of the blow jarred his whole arm but had little effect on the
manarei.
He might as well have been hitting concrete.

He grabbed the tire iron he always kept under car seats for emergencies like this and smashed it into the creature’s mouth. The
manarei
recoiled, shaking its head, splattering Doyle and Kirby with blood. Then it snarled and lashed at him again. He thrust back in the seat as far as he could, but the claws raked his side, tearing past his coat and into skin. He cursed and hit it again.

Blue fire leapt through the night. Kirby, her hands ablaze, touched the creature’s arm. The lightning leaped from her fingers and shot across the
manarei
’s
body, encasing it in light. The smell of burnt flesh rent the air, and the creature howled again—this time a sound full of pain rather than anguish. Doyle grabbed his gun and scrambled out.

The wind whipped at his coat, and the rain stung his skin. He braced himself against the door and raised the gun. The
manarei
twisted around violently, trying to free itself from the web of energy that somehow pinned it to the hood of the car. Its skin was smoldering, and one large chunk near its chest had peeled away and was flapping in the wind. Kirby’s power, whatever it was, would have killed anything human.

The creature looked around, eyes gleaming malevolently. Then it lunged forward, straight at Kirby. The web stretched with the creature’s movement, the tendrils of power becoming thinner and thinner until, ultimately, they snapped. Doyle squeezed the trigger. The sounds of the shots were muted, lost quickly in the howl of the wind. Blood and bone sprayed through the night, and the creature dropped to the road. It didn’t move.

Neither did he, not for several seconds.
Manarei
, like snakes, had been known to keep moving, to keep reacting, even after death. It was usually better to leave them completely alone, but right now he couldn’t afford to do that, just in case the creature
wasn’t
dead. He walked to the front of the car, gun held at the ready. He had only two bullets left. If the
manarei
was still alive after having two bullets plugged into it, then two more probably weren’t going to make a huge difference.

The creature lay on the road, a huddled mass of
leathery skin that wasn’t going anywhere. One bullet had torn into its brain, the other into its heart. The creature’s whole body was bubbling, steaming, disintegrating. Soon there would be nothing left but a stain that the lashing rain would quickly wash away.

A gasp made him look up. Kirby had climbed out of the car and was looking wide-eyed at the creature. She covered her mouth with shaking fingers, and her face was white—too white.

He raced around the car and caught her slumping body a second before she cracked her head against the road. He picked her up and placed her back in the car. She was lighter than he’d expected—beneath the bulkiness of her coat, she was obviously little more than skin and bone.

He fastened her seat belt, then slammed the door shut and went back to look at the
manarei.
It was now little more than a bubbling, pulpy mass. One of the great side effects of silver bullets, he thought grimly. They made the cleanup a whole lot easier.

He climbed into the car and started it up again. The rain was driving in through the hole in the windshield, its touch icy. Despite this, he could feel warmth trickling down his side. He’d have to tend to his wounds—and Kirby’s—as soon as possible.
Manarei
were filthy creatures, and infection was an all-too-real possibility.

He drove off, then dug into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone. After glancing in the rearview mirror to check for cops, he quickly dialed Russell’s number.

It didn’t ring for long. “About time you checked in, bro,” Russell said. “What’s happening?”

“We’ve two dead
manarei
and one unconscious but alive victim.”

“You okay? I know from experience what nasty bastards those
manarei
can be.”

“It clawed me, but it’s nothing serious. Kirby’s got a pretty nasty leg wound. Camille had better take a look at it.”

Russ cleared his throat slightly. “That might be a bit of a problem.”

Doyle glanced in the rearview mirror again. The red and blue lights of an emergency vehicle cut through the darkness, but he relaxed when he saw it was just an ambulance. Right now, the last thing he wanted was to be pulled over by the police.

“Why will it be a problem?” he said, slowing for another set of traffic lights. “What’s happened to Camille?”

“Nothing. But she’s done another reading using Kirby’s hair. Someone’s using magic to track her, and until Camille figures out how and why, she doesn’t want you to bring her back to the office.”

“So I hole up somewhere and wait?”

“That’s the general plan, yes. But remember, she’s being tracked, so you can’t afford to relax.”

“I gather from that you’re not coming over to share guard duties.”

“Nope. This pretty lady is all yours. Camille wants me to check out both Helen’s and Kirby’s background, then head on over to the government facility that looked after her adoption.”

“I doubt whether you’ll find any clues now.” Doyle accelerated slowly as the lights changed to green. Between the rain and the spiderweb of cracks covering what remained of the windshield, it was difficult to see
anything. He’d have to stop somewhere soon—if only because his body was beginning to go numb with cold.

“There’ll be records, if nothing else. And I had a damn fine teacher when it comes to picking locks.”

Doyle grinned. “Last time you tried, you set off every damn alarm in the place.”

Russ snorted. “And whose fault was that?
You
were the one who was supposed to kill the alarms, not me.”

“Blame Seline. It’s her fault I’m not getting any practice these days.” His skills as a thief were not what they’d been when she’d invited him to join the Circle some twelve years before, and she’d basically kept him on the straight-and-narrow ever since.