Gathering of Angels(19)

“Congratulations all around, Eric.” Jeff’s voice jerked them apart. Annie stifled a laugh, tugged down her shirt. “I’ll be the first to buy the champagne—after we land. Now get your ass up here and buckle in so I can do just that.”

“Yes, Captain.” He brushed his lips over her scarred ear. “Remember where we left off.” He grabbed the top of the front seat, pulled himself forward.

“I’ll just admire the view,” she said. Eric glanced over his shoulder, laughed at the wicked smile on her face. Then watched it fade as the news that they were landing sank in. “I need to call Marcus—”

He dropped into the seat, reached back to touch her wrist. “No phones while we’re in the air. You can call the minute we touch down. A car is already waiting for us. Hey—we’ll get to him, Annie. He doesn’t have that much of a head start, and we already know where he headed first. We won’t leave without him, and whoever he came to rescue.”

Annie swallowed, stared out the window. “What if it’s—”

“She’s dead, Annie.” Her head snapped around, anger and grief in those beautiful eyes. “I know it hurts you to hear that, but we saw it happen.” He kept his voice low, sure that Jeff couldn’t hear them over the engine noise, not with headphones on. “Natasha stabbed her; they fell through a gate to Hell. There’s no coming back from that. Even for a demon.”

For the first time, Annie didn’t flinch when he spoke the word in connection with Claire. Instead she looked away, and the sapphire flashed on her finger, blue fire sparking across the surface. Startled, she clapped her hand over the ring. Before she could withdraw Eric caught her wrist and gently pulled her hand away. The ring still glowed, the amethysts on either side of the teardrop sapphire sparkling.

“I don’t—”

The plane tilted, knocked them into the side of the cabin.

“Damn it, Eric.” Jeff’s voice blasted across her denial. “Whatever power she’s throwing around, get her to stop—she’s screwing with my instruments.”

Her gaze flew to his face, brown eyes narrowed. “You told him about me?”

“You can shout at me later. Take it off. Now, Annie—we’ll figure out the what and why after we’re safe on the ground.”

She yanked the ring off. The glow died instantly. Jeff let out a curse, and the small plane dropped, lifting them out of their seats. It leveled out before Eric had a chance to panic. He met Jeff’s gaze; sweat trickled down his friend’s face. Instrument flying was tricky under the best conditions. Throw in a witch who unintentionally blasted her power and it could test even the most skilled pilot.

Neither of them spoke as Jeff contacted the tower of the small commuter field, gave his heading, and received landing instructions. After a smooth touchdown on the narrow runway, and a bumpy ride over ridged ground to the hangar, Annie said three words.

“Explain yourself. Now.”





EIGHT



Instead of the expected bullet, a voice shot out of the darkness.

“Get in.” Marcus’ finger froze on the trigger. The voice was female, which ruled out the chief. Regardless, she could be one of the poor townspeople who were under the witch’s influence— “Damn it—get in before one of those deadheads shows up!”

“Mindy Kay?” Lea moved past Marcus, avoiding his outstretched hand. “How did you—”

“We can talk later. I need you to get in—now.”

“It’s okay.” Lea closed her fingers over Marcus’ wrist, eased his hand down. “She’s a witch, so she wasn’t there when Jane threw her mojo on the town. Marcus—we have to trust her. Jane won’t stay down for long.”

“She hasn’t been touched, Marcus,” Claire said, her voice edged with pain. “And we really have no other choice.”

Hating that he had to give over control, Marcus helped Claire to the van, keeping the revolver close. Just in case. Handing her over to the lanky redhead, he climbed in, pulled Lea up behind him and slid the door closed.

The driver gunned the gas, knocking them all into the nearest hard surface. No heat surrounded their would-be savior; he would have felt it, with her sprawled on top of him.

“Sorry.” She flashed a smile, clear eyes the color of the Mediterranean meeting his gaze.

“No broken bones, so I will forgive you.”

Laughing, she rolled off him, and crouched beside Lea.

Marcus picked himself off the floor, crawled over to Claire. “All right?”

“Better than dead.” She smiled up at him, amusement dancing in the blue eyes. He noticed, for the first time since finding her, the silver that once laced the blue was gone. Every subtle probe told him she was mortal. An echo of the power she once had laid over her soul. The soul she told him she did not have when she fell. “How about you?”