Rest For The Wicked(36)

He caught her hands before she could pull away.

“Tell me how I can help.”

Tears stung her eyes. She forced them back, met his gaze. “I was just on my way to her place. She went to help Eric pack, and I think something happened between them.” She tapped his chest with her fingers when anger flared in his eyes. “Something good, so stop plotting his death.” A smile tugged at his mouth, and the anger retreated. “She is not answering her phone, and I wanted to make sure she isn’t just sleeping off a late night before I really start to panic.”

“My car is out back.”

Claire followed him out, and grabbed the door latch just as the shop phone rang.

“That could be her.” Claire ran through the shop, snatched the phone off the counter. “Annie—”

“So sorry to disappoint.” Claire stilled at Natasha’s voice, clutching the phone. “But she is close, very close. And you can save her.”

“I want to talk to her.”

“Proof of life. Sorry, she can’t come to the phone right now, but she can yell.”

Claire heard shuffling, silence—and Annie’s voice burst out.

“Don’t do it, Claire! I’m not worth—”

Claire sank to her knees when a raw scream cut Annie off. Marcus knelt beside her, and she leaned against him, thankful she wasn’t alone.

“She is quite a spitfire, your Annie.” Claire closed her eyes. “She left you a gift. Check your front stoop. I will call back with instructions.”

The call cut off, the dial tone buzzing in her ear before she dropped it. Marcus caught the handset, laid it on the rug, then turned her to face him.

“Talk to me.”

“Let go—I have to—let go—”

She yanked out of his grip and pushed to her feet, running for the front door. With a shaky breath, she flipped the deadbolt and opened the door.

A small box sat on the mat. Claire reached for it, her fingers shaking. Pain radiated from the box, along with Annie’s energy. Claire swallowed, braced herself, and snatched up the box. That pain shot up her arm. She closed her free hand around her amethyst and threw up a barrier. The pain broke against it.

It took three tries to pull the lid off the wooden box—and she almost dropped it when she saw what lay inside.

Marcus cupped her hand, steadied her with his other arm. Claire leaned against him, fought the panic, the fury that pushed up behind it.

“It’s Annie’s favorite earring,” she whispered. And Annie’s small earlobe was still attached to it. “Oh, God—”

“Breathe, Claire.” Marcus pulled her inside, then reached around and shut the door. “She is alive right now. Think of that, hold on to that.”

“Right.” She took in a breath, clutching the box. “Natasha won’t hurt her—not until I’m in her sights. You have to get her out of there, Marcus.” Turning in his arms, she looked up at him. “Promise me.”

“We will all—”

The front door burst open. Eric stalked in, looking like an avenging angel.

“Where the hell is she?”



*



It took all Eric’s control to rein in the fury, the panic.

He wanted to lash out at Claire—Annie wouldn’t be in danger if she wasn’t friends with this witch—

But the anguish on Claire’s face stopped him. She cared about Annie, and he knew the feelings were mutual.

“What happened?”

Swallowing, Claire held out the box in her hand.

Eric stared at the bloody earring. The same earring he watched Annie slip on this morning—

I will fucking kill her, whatever she is—

“No, Eric,” Claire said. His head snapped up. “We are going to get Annie out, and I will deal with Natasha. No.” She slapped at Marcus and stepped away from both of them. “You have no idea what she’s capable of, how little she cares about anyone but herself. We agree, here and now, or you are out of it.”

“Claire,” Marcus said, his voice quiet and almost—hypnotic. Eric shook his head. “You cannot—”

“Don’t you dare use your hocus pocus on me.” He had never seen a woman so furious. She may have been tiny, but she radiated such power Eric believed at that moment she could take them both on. And win, hands down. “She already has the most important person in my life—I will not give her the chance to—”

The ringing phone cut her off. Eric watched her face go sheet white—then she sprinted around the counter and disappeared.

Both he and Marcus followed her, found her kneeling on the rug, phone clutched in both hands. She listened, eyes closed, then spoke a single word.