Visions of Skyfire

Chapter 33

A few hours later, Rune snapped his satellite phone open, hit number three on speed dial and waited impatiently as a distant phone rang. His mind raced and his blood pumped with the need to return to Teresa. Standing on an outcropping of rock a half mile from the cave where she waited, Rune felt more alone than he had in centuries.

He’d had to leave her behind when he returned to the village for supplies and now he was grateful that he had. He had seen the circling flock of buzzards first. Dipping and wheeling in the wind, they performed a dance of death that told Rune he wouldn’t have to worry about avoiding the villagers.

Flashing to the middle of the narrow street, he had been surrounded by carnage. Every villager—men, women, and children—was dead. All of them. They had died in a cascade of bullets, their bodies ripped and torn, and now the buzzards were dropping out of the sky like black snow to finish them off.

He had taken what they needed from the store and gotten out of the little town as quickly as possible.

It had been a long time since he had experienced real fear. But it was with him now.

Whoever had annihilated that village was after Teresa. And they clearly didn’t care who they had to kill to get to her.

Every protective instinct he had ever possessed was roaring to the surface. His huge body practically vibrated with the need to safeguard her. Hold her in the circle of his arms, safe from anything that might harm her. But more even than the need to protect her was the ancient, pulsing demand to claim her body again and again. To drive the mating brand to completion.

To finish this quest.

Because only then would she be completely safe.

“Rune. Problem?”

Torin’s voice shattered his thoughts and jerked him back to the present. An Eternal like Rune, Torin had been the first of them to brand his Awakened witch and find their shard of the Artifact. Together, he and Shea had returned the black silver to Haven—the coven’s home in Wales.

Wales, with its lush greenery and crashing waves against timeworn cliffs, was a long way from here, Rune mused. In more ways than one. In Wales, there was safety. The coven’s home offered exactly what its name implied—a haven. Here, in Mexico, Rune felt danger creeping ever closer. His sharp gaze swept the dark, empty desert around him. The emptiness was a facade, he knew. There was life out there, behind every rock and bush. Snakes, coyotes, wildcats—not to mention the kind of predator that walked on two legs. Hunters roamed these darkened sands. He could feel it—a hum just under his skin that warned of an encroaching menace.

But from where?

“Lots of problems.” Rune’s gaze narrowed on the sliver of moon shining down out of a black star-swept sky.

“What?” Torin’s voice was taut, expectant.

“I’ve got Teresa. We’re in Mexico, going to head to Chiapas to see her grandmother in a day or two.”

“And?”

“Most recently? We stopped in a village for supplies and got made. A couple of the townspeople tried to earn the reward for capturing a witch. I took care of it and got Teresa to Finn’s cave.”

“Sounds fine. So what happened?”

“Just got back from that village. Went for more supplies. Somebody had been there. Took out the whole place.” Shaking his head, he narrowed his gaze on the mountain where Teresa waited for him. “Every last soul dead.”

“F*ck. Any idea who?”

“No.” Grinding his teeth, Rune continued. “There’s more, Torin. I was going to call you about this, anyway, even without the dead village. Elena Vargas, a friend of Teresa’s, was killed in Sedona. She was a doctor, Torin. Not a witch. She helped us out and no more than an hour or so later she was dead.”

Seconds of silence ticked by before Torin said, “How was she killed?”

“Looked like she was strangled. But not before she was tortured.” He hissed in a breath at the memory. He hadn’t wanted to show Teresa how her friend’s death had affected him, but it had. The woman had died because she had helped him. For that alone, Rune owed her justice. “Arm and hand broken—but Torin, one side of her body was burned to a crisp.”

“Say again?”

“You heard me right.” The image of Elena’s body rose up in his mind again and he didn’t like what he was thinking. Hard not to go there, though. “There’s no way that was done without magic. Unless the guy had a portable blowtorch he carried with him.”

“Damn it. What the hell is this?”

“I don’t know,” Rune admitted. He wiped one hand across his jaw and then scrubbed the back of his neck. “I hate even thinking this, but—is there any chance that one of the Eternals has gone rogue?”