"They could be transported, hidden behind other paintings, but in plain sight, and no one would ever know," Evangelina said.
There were definite differences in the styles of the paintings as well as the experiments. In the older set, there was no pentagram in the witch circle. No crosses on the trees. In the more recent batch, all the elements I'd seen in the young-rogue burial sites were present. Except . . . "In the older ones, the circles and pentagrams are made by cutting into the earth, like with a spade. In the newer ones, the circles are made with other things. Something that looks like powder or flour in one, flowers in one. Feathers. And stones in two, one with pebbles, one with shaped stones, like bricks."
"And the sacrificial athames in the older depictions are steel. The most recent ones indicate silver," Evangelina said. "The vamps in charge change."
"And there's this bearded guy. He's in . . ."--Evangelina counted--"six of the later paintings. Look at his position. Almost as if he's in charge now. And I'm betting that necklace on his chest in all the paintings is an amulet that lets him draw power from the others."
I studied the amulet. I didn't know much about gems, but it looked like a pink diamond or a washed-out, pale ruby, about the size of my thumb from the last knuckle to the thumb tip, faceted all over. It was on a heavy gold chain, a thick casing holding the gem, the casing shaped of horns and claws. It looked barbaric, brutal, and powerful, an artifact from a distant time and place.
"That's what they intend for my babies?" Molly asked. She was standing where she could see all the paintings at once, her hands fisted so tightly her fingers were white, fear and grief and fierce anger on her face. I wanted to promise that I'd get to the children in time, that I'd save them. But the promises were for me, not for her. Molly knew what we were up against now. I nodded instead and went to the last painting from the eighteen hundreds. It was different from all the others. In it was an extra figure racing downhill, her white dress flying back with her speed, eyes blazing, holding a flaming, bloody cross. Sabina Delgado y Aguilera coming to the rescue, her face in a rictus scream of pain, her arms on fire, flames licking up toward her body. The vamps in the circle were running away, faces full of terror.
Sabina had known exactly what I was describing when I told her about the young rogue and the witch circle in the woods. She had known and hadn't told me.
A soft knock sounded at the door and Molly whirled, the reek of her rage and panic bitter on the air. No one had set wards. I peeked through a sliver of clear glass, glanced back once to see Rick with his weapon drawn and Evan with his hands out in a warding gesture. I opened the door. Two witches stood on the shallow stoop. I had never seen them before, but I recognized their scent.
Beast reared up fast, her pelt pressing against my skin, her claws sharp in my fingertips. Thief-of-kits! Beast lunged into my mind. Flamed into my eyes.
One witch, petite and blond, stepped back fast, shock on her face. Threw up her hands, palms out, power gathered there. Before she could throw the spell, I leaped. Was on her, a vamp-killer at her throat. Her thief-of-kits scent oily in my nose. "Any reason I shouldn't just kill you where you stand?" I growled.
Screaming sounded all around me. The other witch begging, Molly shouting my name. Evan roaring. But the witch's terror was so strong it was sweet in my nostrils and mouth, heady. Her blood was mine. I slid the blade across her flesh, only a fraction. The witch's skin spilt. She was crying. I inhaled, smiling, showing killing teeth. Whispered, "Thief-of-kits. Die."
It was Evangelina who placed her hands on my arms, power flowing up from her fingers like cool bayou water, drawing away my rage, her voice soothing. "Wait. Not yet. Not just yet. Jane, let her go. I have her. She will not get away."
I met her eyes, my voice hissing and guttural. "Thief-of-kits."
Amazingly, Evangelina smiled, and suddenly she was beautiful, greenish eyes sparkling, her face young. "And we have her now. She will not get away." She pushed at the vamp-killer, a gentle pressure. I blinked, Beast vision overlapping with mine. Evangelina's peace chilled my killing heat. Soothed me like a hand down my pelt. I let her press the weapon away. My fingers slowly opened, one at a time. I released the witch. Under Evangelina's hands, my rage eased, settled back, and found a resting place, like a sun-warmed rock in my mind. Unsteady, blinking in the sharp man-light, I stepped back. I was still holding the knife. It was the one Evan had carved for me and when I looked up, I saw his eyes on the hilt.
"Please come inside," Evangelina said to the two witches, her tone genial and gracious, a hostess asking guests in. "And you will tell us everything." Her lips twisted into a smile that made my heart stutter. "Or I will kill you myself."
My Beast liked this woman. She was wise and strong.