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“Hope you know what you’re doing.” Mack’s gaze was on the shadow-wrapped trail ahead of them.

“So do I,” Jon muttered grimly. Because if he didn’t, they were all dead meat.

THE FLAMES BURNED HIGH BUT WITHOUT ANY HEAT. GRAYISH-GREEN smoke rose, curling lazily toward the stormy sky but fading into the mist long before it reached the treetops.

But the illusion of heat was better than nothing. Maddie huddled a bare foot away from the fire, stamping half-frozen feet in an effort to keep warm. Mud squished up between her toes and splattered up her legs. It felt clammy, reminding her of Hank’s touch. She licked her lips and thrust the image away. At least the mud protected some of her from the wind’s sharpness.

Across the clearing, the entrance to the cave sat in darkness. There had been no movement in those shadows as yet, and Maddie hoped Teresa hadn’t gone back to sleep.

“They’re close. I can feel them.” Eleanor’s whisper held a hint of excitement. “They have the child.”

A sick sensation rose to the back of Maddie’s throat. She briefly closed her eyes and tried to swallow it away. Surely Jon wouldn’t risk Evan’s life to save hers.

She had a sudden image of the harsh, almost savage look in his eyes when he’d left her to find Hank, and ran a shaking hand through her matted hair. In some ways, it was frightening to realize she didn’t know what he was capable of.

She stared at Eleanor. The pale orange and blue flames made the sorcerer’s sharp features look almost skeletal. “Why do you need Evan? You have the other teenager. Isn’t one child’s death enough?”

Eleanor’s gaze didn’t waver from the luminous star she was drawing in the mud, but her contempt whipped around Maddie, as sharp as a slap.

“Once it was, but now my need is greater.”

“Is that why you’ve taken so many children over the last year?”

Eleanor gave a quick nod, her attention still on the star. “There was a time I only had to sacrifice once every six months. Now it is every month.”

Maddie wondered why her need had become so desperate that she now had to kill two children a month. And where had Hank fit into all this? “So why the camp? And why snatch them after they’ve left? Surely that’s just making things hard for yourself.”

“The camps gave me the chance to check out the product before I took it.”

In other words, she’d treated the camps like her own personal supermarket. Maddie flexed her fingers and wished again that she had her flames. Right now she’d like nothing more than to burn the bitch to cinders. “And the delay?”

“The cleansing ritual only requires two weeks. It is pointless snatching them before then.” Eleanor stood up and brushed the mud from her hands.

The star at her feet glowed fiercely for several seconds, then quickly faded. She smiled and turned her attention back to Maddie. “And now, for the final trap.”

Maddie took a step away from the flames—and Eleanor. The invisible band pinched hard against her throat, and it became difficult to breathe again. Sweat trickled down the side of her face. She didn’t need Eleanor’s fire to provide any heat—she had her own. And it was a fire that was steadily growing, making her feel like she was about to burn from the inside out. Her fire, looped by Eleanor’s magic, killing her as surely as she’d killed Brian.

“Don’t,” she gasped, more as a reminder to herself than a plea to Eleanor. The squeezing eased, regardless, and Maddie licked cracked lips. She had to keep Eleanor talking. Had to hope that Teresa had found the courage to leave the cell and escape. “I just want to ask a question.”

Eleanor smiled. It seemed to sharpen her features and make her look more like a cat than ever. “We have some time up our sleeve. Ask away.”

“Just tell me why you’re doing all this. Why do you, an obviously beautiful and powerful young woman, need teenagers?”

Eleanor’s dark gaze glittered with amusement. “Flattery earns you a few more minutes of freedom. As to the children, they are literally my life, my bloodline.”

Maddie frowned, not sure whether the fuzzy ache in her head or the fire racing through her veins was responsible for her total lack of comprehension. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Then let me demonstrate.”

Eleanor waved her hand. The smoke drifting across the clearing spun toward her, encasing her body from sight for several seconds. When it disappeared, Eleanor was gone, replaced by a withered, hunchbacked figure.

“This is my true self.” The crone’s voice was high and shaky, but undoubtedly Eleanor’s. Something in its tone still whispered of seduction and evil.

“This is how I will look by midnight if I do not take the virgin blood I need to sustain my life and looks.” The smoke performed its gentle dance, and the more youthful Eleanor reappeared. “As you might guess, I prefer my current form.”

“Was Hank like you?”

“Hank lived through me. I was his life, his bloodline. Of course, even I couldn’t protect the fool from a wound inflicted by silver. He really should have known better than to carry such a weapon.”

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