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Then the realization hit, and horror rushed through her. Oh God, no! Helen had died because of her. Had died because she’d spelled her abilities away and had nothing to protect herself against the manarei.
“It was Helen’s choice—Helen’s decision,” Doyle said. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent it.”
His thoughts wrapped around her, offering sympathy and strength. She thrust them away angrily. “I could have been there. I could have stopped her.”
“If you had been there, you’d be dead as well,” he said, his voice sharp. “All you can do now is make sure Helen’s sacrifice doesn’t go to waste.”
She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. He was right. She knew that deep down. But right now, she just wasn’t ready to accept any of it, particularly the gift her best friend had died to give her.
“I don’t want to do this,” she muttered.
“You have no real choice now.”
“Maybe.” She looked away from the understanding in his eyes. She wasn’t ready to accept that yet, either. “What now?”
“Right now, we’re going to join the hunt for the remaining members of this elemental circle of yours.”
His tone was still a little sharp. Maybe he’d heard her thoughts. “Camille didn’t have any luck uncovering the whereabouts of the two women or tracking down Felicity Barnes, then?”
He shook his head. “I was talking to her earlier this morning. They’ve eliminated several past addresses for both women, and have a couple to go.”
“And Felicity Barnes?”
As she said the name, an image ran through her mind—a skinny girl in jeans and a red sweater, brown hair tied back in pigtails, blue eyes ablaze as she chased her and Helen through the trees.
Not Felicity, but her best friend, Mariel, who liked to tear the wings off bugs. Mariel, who could make dead things come to life. She was their killer—of that Kirby was suddenly certain. The only trou
ble was, there was no Mariel on Camille’s list.
“Camille’s list obviously isn’t entirely accurate,” Doyle commented. “The fact that you’re not on it proves that. And Mariel could easily have assumed another identity.”
She nodded and rose. “Then let’s get going.” Because she had a feeling time was running out—for them, and for the next victim.
He didn’t move. The window behind him threw his features into shadows, but his eyes gleamed blue fire. There was concern in his gaze and in his thoughts. “Are you really feeling okay? You were so sick yesterday, maybe you shouldn’t push it today. It might be better—”
“Don’t even suggest it,” she interrupted. “I’m not staying here alone while you gallivant about looking for the next victim. Helen said I had to find her, and find her I will.”
“Damn it, will you just listen to common sense for a change? I’m sure Helen never meant for you to run yourself into the ground.”
“Helen died to keep me safe,” she retorted. “I couldn’t live with myself if I did anything less.”
“You are the most annoying, aggravating, pigheaded woman I have ever met.” His voice was so low, his words were little more than a soft growl.
She smiled sweetly at him. “And you love me for it.”
He shot her a look that could have meant anything and pushed away from the counter. “We’ll come back here tonight. I still think it’s the safest place to be right now. And if you have to perform that spell tonight, then there’s less likelihood of us being disturbed here.”
She followed him out of the house, not wanting to think about the spell right now. “You have the new list of addresses?”
He locked the door and handed her the list and car keys. “I’ll open the gate. You bring out the car.”
She did. While he relocked the gate, she pulled the list out of her pocket and studied it.
Seven addresses—three for Marline Thomas, four for Trina Jones. Which of the two was the girl she had to save? It could take all day to check these damn addresses, and the feeling that they had to get to the fourth member of the elemental circle was growing more urgent.
The writing blurred briefly, the addresses merging into one. She blinked several times, wondering what was going on, then thrust back against the seat as one address seemed to leap off the page at her. Suddenly she wasn’t staring at a piece of paper, but at a single-story, red-brick house. In the distance, a clock chimed, ten times. Confusion ran through her. It wasn’t even nine yet … was she seeing the future? Or merely hallucinating? The vision blurred again, shifting closer.
In the shadows that loomed close to the house, a manarei crept. From the house came a soft humming—a sound that echoed through the fog, opening a window to the past. Trina, she thought, remembering the taste of her terror, the shaking of her hand, as the younger Trina had clasped her fingers and completed the circle. Remembering the force that had thrummed between them, through the other girls, to her, filling her until she was one with the elements, a being of energy, not flesh.
