Visions of Skyfire

Chapter 41

In a soundproofed lab deep below the pretty treelined streets of Arlington, Virginia, a witch finally died screaming.

“You should have gagged her,” Kellyn said, her ears still ringing with the echo of the dying woman’s wailing.

“Oh, no,” Henry Fender said with a jovial wink. “I find their screams quite invigorating.”

One of Kellyn’s eyebrows lifted into a high arch. She had been in the lab for days already and she’d discovered nothing new—well, beyond the surprising fact that even torture could get boring after a while.

Not to Henry, though, she mused, watching the good doctor as he unstrapped the dead witch from the white-gold torture table. Kellyn kept her distance from the slab of gleaming metal, knowing that if her body got too close to the damn thing, her own powers would be drained. And she didn’t trust good old Henry to keep from torturing her if he got the chance.

The man was as single-minded as a campaigning politician going after votes.

Dr. Henry Fender had started out his career as a gynecologist. He’d been well respected, with a thriving practice in Richmond. He had given it all up, though, as soon as the world had become aware of witchcraft. He, like so many other humans, was drawn to the promise of power. The only difference between Henry and most of the population was that Henry had no scruples about how he acquired that power.

“She told you nothing,” Kellyn said, seating herself on a swivel stool a good distance from the table. She really didn’t like this part of the lab. It bothered her to be so close to the power-sucking metal. She much preferred the old-fashioned torture room. After all, Henry had had it stocked with some of the classics. A rack. An iron maiden, thumbscrews and a Judas Cradle, not to mention a few other items that Kellyn remembered fondly from the Middle Ages, all newly made, handcrafted in the mountains of Virginia.

Buy American, she thought with a smile.

Henry waggled his long, bony finger at her as if she were a child in a schoolroom. “Not entirely true. She did reveal that the witches will all eventually head to Wales.”

“Yes, well,” Kellyn snapped, “I knew that already.”

He tipped his head to one side and stared at her. “Did you? Now, isn’t that interesting?”

Kellyn shifted uncomfortably. This was what came of being bored to distraction. One slip of the lip and her entire plan could be shot to shit. Once again, she felt that flickering stir inside her, as something fought to surface. Frowning, she buried it even deeper. Covering for herself, she said, “Not very interesting at all, really. Wales is a lot of territory. Their home could be anywhere.”

“Hmm …” He simply watched her, a curious glint in his deceptively soft eyes.

A change of subject was needed, she told herself.

“Beyond what we already knew,” she said sharply, “the witch told you nothing.”

“The more of these women I experiment on, the more I learn. Did you know that with their bonding, their powers are stronger?”

“Yes,” Kellyn said, “I knew.”

“It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” His pale blue eyes glazed over as new possibilities occurred to him. “If we could get a witch in here after her bonding, then her power would be that much greater.”

“And that much harder to contain,” Kellyn pointed out.

“True, but scientific discovery is not without risk. And think of the rewards. If we could bleed off a bonded witch’s power, it would make locating the Artifact a piece of cake.”

She chuckled a little and idly studied her nails. She’d actually chipped the polish on that last witch. Now she needed another manicure. “Henry, you’ve been working on a way to bleed off witch power for ten years now. When are you going to admit it’s just not possible?”

One hand snaked out, grabbed her throat and tipped her head back until she was looking up into those pale, haunted eyes. “I will do it. You’ll see. You’ll all see.”

Furious, Kellyn called on her own power and teleported out of his grip to the other side of the room. “You son of a bitch. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He smiled at her in genuine wonder. “I love that you can do something so incredibly amazing without the slightest effort.”

“The effort I’m making now,” she told him, “is to keep from killing you.”

“Oh”—he waved one hand at her—“you won’t do that. Our common partner wouldn’t like it. And besides, we still need each other. The Artifact is out there, my dear Kellyn, and it’s up to us to find it. Now … would you like to take first shot at our next guest?”

He looked harmless. Affable. Charming. Almost like an absentminded professor of sorts. But underneath it all, he was vicious and, she was beginning to think, dead crazy. But he was right. She couldn’t kill him. Their partner wouldn’t like it and for right now, Kellyn needed that partner on her side.

Once she had the Artifact, that would be a different story. But for now …

“Yes, Henry,” she said, giving him the smile he seemed to be expecting. “I would like to take first crack at her. But shall we go downstairs to the other chamber? I’d really like to put the witch on the rack and take it out for a spin. For old times’ sake.”