And mine with you, Serai. Tell that vampire that if he hurts you, he’ll answer to me.
The connection broke, and she let it go. Reisen had enough to deal with right now. She sent a fervent prayer to Poseidon that Melody would be healed quickly and that they would be safe, and then she realized that Daniel was shaking her.
“Serai? Serai! Answer me,” he demanded.
“I’m fine. You can stop shaking me now.”
He released her instantly, and then he took a step back and shoved a hand through his hair. “What was that? You were gone. Is that the telepathy thing?”
“Yes. It was Reisen.”
A flash of something crossed Daniel’s eyes, but he simply nodded, waiting.
“The bank job was a success. They got what they needed, but while we were communicating, Reisen said someone attacked them. Melody got shot.”
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t know. He was on his way to help her and get them away, I think. He said he’d contact us again when he could.” She left out Reisen’s threat, figuring what Daniel didn’t know couldn’t annoy him.
She looked out toward the entrance of the cave, where it was now full dark. “Time to go. I can feel the Emperor, and it’s calling me very strongly.”
“We’re on our own,” Daniel said.
Serai held out her arms to the sky and pulled the strength of the Emperor to her, but this time on her terms. Its power soared through the air toward her, all but thrumming through her bones. “This is our quest to win or lose. Somehow I feel that very strongly.”
He lifted the backpack and slung it over his shoulders again. “Then we really are on our own. Let’s find that gem before the witch starts to play with it again.”
But it was too late. The witch forced her magic through the Emperor again, and Serai screamed, her skull nearly shattering with the force of the pain from another badly manipulated blast of the gem’s power.
When she could breathe again, she gritted her teeth and headed out of the cave. “Now. We need to go find that goddessforsaken witch now.”
Chapter 19
“I don’t know how to do it!” Ivy realized that screaming at the man with the gun was probably a bad idea, but blood ran freely down her lip and chin from her nose, and her skull felt like it might crack wide open. Whatever this amethyst was designed to be, a treasure-seeking tool aimed by a kidnapped witch was not it.
Definitely not it.
This try had been worse than the others, though—far worse. This time, she’d believed she’d made a connection with another woman. Another witch, maybe, or at least someone with some kind of magic that happened to resonate with the gem. The other woman had been in pain, too, and Ivy had the uncomfortable feeling that she’d been the one to cause it. She flinched a little as that concern led to another worry; they still hadn’t told her what had happened to Aretha. She didn’t buy the lame story that the apprentice had suddenly decided to take a vacation to Mexico. The girl had been flighty enough for something like that, certainly, but something about the story and the man who’d told it to her didn’t quite ring true.
The same man now pointing a gun at her bleeding head.
Ian was frantically digging into his backpack, and he came up with a clean bandanna, which he handed to her.
“Mom, use this and wipe your nose. You have to stop now, this is hurting you too bad,” he said, and she would have given anything—done anything—to have spared him the pain and fear showing so plainly on his sunburned face. His bright blue eyes, exactly like his father’s, were a little shiny, but her proud boy hadn’t given in to the tears. He was worried about being strong for her.
She was worried that Smithson would shoot Ian as quickly and callously as he might swat a gnat. Smithson had an oily, burnt-orange aura that lurched and coiled around him like a sun-drunk rattlesnake, and she had the feeling he was just as deadly.
Which led her back to the gun.
Oddly, however, even though night had fallen with its characteristic desert suddenness, the vampire who she’d thought had been in charge wasn’t there. Smithson had dragged her to this new location during the afternoon, after she’d barely gotten five hours of sleep. He’d forced them to eat some nasty beef jerky on the hike from the other cave and given them a little water. She’d felt a dehydration headache looming even before he’d dragged her into this new structure and forced her to use the amethyst again. The vampire wasn’t with them, though, and that made her wonder if their criminal partnership was falling apart and, if so, how she could use the knowledge to her advantage.
She put an arm around Ian and wiped her nose with the cloth he’d handed her, and then she looked at Smithson and tried to appear totally unafraid of the gun aimed at her head.
“Where’s the vampire?”
His eyes shifted a little, the classic “I’m getting ready to lie to you” indicator, and she wondered why a so-called criminal mastermind wasn’t a better liar. Especially since she’d heard he was a banker, too.
Scumbag.
“He’s no longer important. I’m in charge now. You can have five minutes, and then I want you to try again.” He waved one of his thugs over to give her another bottle of water.
She took the cap off and handed it to Ian first, who took a drink and handed it back. She drank deeply, finishing the bottle, thinking furiously all the while. If he’d killed Nicholas, the odds were against her getting out of this alive. The vampire, at least, had seemed to have a little bit of reluctance to hurt Ian.
If this worm hurt her boy, he was going to die in agony. She was making very sure to retain enough of her magic, protected and shielded from the damage the gem was doing to her, for a last-ditch escape attempt.
Not attempt. A last-ditch escape success.
“All right. Stop dawdling,” Smithson said, lowering the gun. “You don’t need to see this gun to know I’ll use it. And I won’t even use it on you, because you’re too valuable to me, at least for now.”
He smiled and glanced at Ian. “I have heard that being shot in the kneecap is very painful. Might mess up a boy’s growth forever. What do you think about that, Ms. Witch?”
A red wave of fury pulsed through her brain, and she had to bite hard on her lip to keep from speaking the words to a spell that would maim the bastard. He had too many thugs around the place, with instructions to take her out if she tried anything. She couldn’t get to them all before they could hurt Ian, and Smithson knew it.
“I think there is no place in this world or the next that you can hide if you harm my son,” she said, slowly and carefully, in order not to scream, cry, or fly into a rage that would get them both shot. “Even if you kill me, my death curse will follow you and your sons and your sons’ sons for a thousand years of torment and pain.”
Smithson paled and clenched his jaw, but then he raised the gun again, this time pointing it at Ian’s head. “Well, then. We both have the same goal, don’t we? To get this business over with quickly so you and your son can safely leave this place, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”
One of the thugs by the door rolled his eyes behind Smithson’s back and grinned at a fellow guard. His meaning was chillingly clear to Ivy. They had instructions to kill her and her son as soon as Smithson escaped. He’d probably paid them enough to make them willing to brave a witch’s wrath.
But none of them knew she was more than a witch. She was a sorceress of the black arts, and she would not die alone.
Ian hugged her, and her inner bravado blew away like a tumbleweed in a strong wind. She didn’t care about taking them with her; she just wanted to escape with her son. She’d try again.
“Tell me again,” she said wearily. “What exactly do you think we’ll find here?”