Chapter 1
The smoke woke her.
Acrid, foul, and thick fingers of it forced open her bedroom door and burst into her room. She gagged as the smoke wound around her head and she fought it, sitting up and batting at the miasma as it tried to invade her nose and mouth. Reflex had her calling on her blessing to dampen whatever fire was burning, but nothing happened.
Shit. Magical fire.
Coughing, she sat up straight and, tried again, pulling harder on her gift and commanding the flames to abate.
The smoke receded, barely. But then she felt a renewed push of power against hers. Then a shock that startled here. The magic, the witch behind this felt familiar? She shook her head to clear it of the smoke and the weird impression that she recognized the touch of power. Ignoring her fatigue, she shoved her bedding aside and pressed her hands together. She built a sphere of her own fire, a trap, and willed the intruder’s flames and smoke inside. For a moment, she thought it was working, but then, the smoke surged back thicker than before. So dense she could almost clutch it in her hands. She batted at it.
Heat built in her bedroom. Her door waved and banged against the wall with the shifting smoke. In the hallway, she saw orange flickers of light growing brighter. The house was old, its dry wood a perfect fuel. She heard it roar, the greedy whoosh of fire as it consumed and picked up speed.
Granny cried out in surprise.
Riley Cartwright shoved her bedquilts aside, grabbed the phone from the nightstand and rushed barefoot down the hall to the recliner next to the woodstove. She wrapped her good arm around her coughing great-grandmother, and hauled her down the short hall to the kitchen and towards the basement door at the back.
Outside, roaring flames of unnatural colors licked at the sides of the small 1780s farmhouse on the banks of the Ohio River. A window burst from the heat and Granny’s treasured ancient wallpaper peeled to the floor. Between the flames, Riley saw tall, bulky silhouettes waiting at safe distance. All except for one, wide stance, arms extended. Even from here, she could feel the warlock’s rage. All she’d wanted was a few days with Granny to cry and come to terms with how her life was changing. Godsdamn, even her childhood home was no longer a refuge.
They limped through the smoke down the basement steps, then, heads bent, they headed toward the old coal chute at the back of the house. Riley hiked Granny onto the slide, tush-pushing her up the short slope to the heavy metal doors. She scrabbled to her great-grandmother’s side, and together, they wrenched the locking bar to the side. Cautious, Riley lifted the panel a few inches and scanned the outside. Short term safety was the treeline about fifty feet away, almost obscured by thick sheets of wind-whipped snow and ice pellets. There, they might be able to hide for a few minutes and rest, give Granny a chance to catch her breath, and for Riley to decide if the time had come to make a phone call.
Werewolf howls sounded from the front of the house, making Riley’s heart beat faster, but as far as she could see, none were patrolling this side of the house. Yet. The old coal chute doors were obscured with thick ivy and weeds. She sent up a quiet prayer of thanks that Whitewater hadn’t thought to look here, nor had they counted on the weather as well as the smoke. Violent gusts swirled embers amid the snow and ice and would obscure their retreat from the fire. Riley felt Granny’s hand squeeze her shoulder. Still cautious, Riley hefted the door to the side, laying it gently to avoid undue noise, then helped Granny out of the chute. They hied it towards the trees, their bare feet stumbling over the icy ground. Riley ignored the cold and the bruises she knew she’d feel later. She had to get Granny, Arabella Cartwright, to safety.
For nearly two centuries, her family’s coven had worked hard to hide not just from the world at large, but from creature kind. For the Cartwright witch women of Appalachia were all fire elementals. Blessed with a feared power, to the outside world they cultivated their other talents, becoming known as skilled midwives and natural healers. Humans and creatures alike trusted Cartwright women to deliver babies, treat illnesses, injuries from accidents and not so accidental events. This they did, yet never quite overcame suspicions that something else was at work.
Riley heaved a sigh as they made it to the trees. Granny covered her mouth as she coughed again. “Smoke,” she rasped. “I’ll get over it and be quiet.”
Riley rested her forehead against her great grandmother’s and willed her breathing to slow down. She needed to think. What she needed was a plan.
Cartwright women had also learned the value of tactical retreat when suspicions morphed into fear and mob-induced need to find and punish a scapegoat. But this was different. Fire that didn’t obey fire witch imperative was a new and disturbing event. This was important news that had to reach the right people as soon as possible, and it wasn’t the federal agency she worked for. Riley knew the wolves and the warlock outside weren’t looking to simply run them out of town. She flexed her hands, feeling the pull of recently healed scar tissue. She knew firsthand what they wanted with fire witch powers.
Riley settled Granny behind the base of a large oak. The house was fully engulfed and the sounds of the fire as it consumed the place where Riley had grown up roared louder than one of the twisters that came through in Spring. She swore as her hand moved reflexively to where her gun should have been holstered at her side and met the thin fabric of her pajamas. That left her phone.
No, THE phone. The one she kept with her as a reminder of the case and the werewolf that drove her crazy. The one top shelf government IT nerds had been unable to unlock. Only one function worked.
She palmed it on and pressed the SOS button. A familiar number popped up on the screen and initiated a dial. One ring, and then a perky voice said, “What assistance do you need?”
She took a deep breath. “This is Riley Cartwright.”
The voice changed. “Are you in distress?”
“Yes, under attack. Whitewater wolves and a warlock. They have fire that doesn’t respond to my powers—”
“Stay on this line and retreat to a safe location. We will send a portal to you in two minutes or less.”
A portal? Riley looked at Granny whose eyes were huge with amazement. She leaned close to Riley’s ear.“Only one that’s powerfully air blessed can create a portal.And to do it at a distance, my, my, that’s one to fear.”
They both turned as the air behind them to churn, whipping faster and faster. It spread apart into a large circle and figures emerged. Huge wolves leapt onto the forest floor, charged through the trees and attacked the enemies waiting outside Riley’s ruined home. Howls and screams rent the air. Riley flinched as the sounds of bones being crushed rose over crackling from the fire. She hugged Granny close and huddled them behind the oak trunk.
The portal whirled again, and another werewolf leapt through, this one in human form. He was a tall, bulky shadow against the portal’s magical glow. His breath gusted thin clouds in the cold winter air, but he seemed unbothered by the low temperature. He wore a heavy sweater with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows and cargo pants. And curiously, he was barefoot. He scanned the area and locked onto Riley and Granny, then strode to them. His feet crunched heavily on the frozen ground.
“Come with me Mistress Cartwright” he said, holding out one hand to Granny. “Do you need help walking?”
“Werewolf,” Granny muttered, with a signature harrumph. She crossed her arms tightly. “Ain’t goin’ ta need help from no dog.”
Riley stifled a groan. Arabella Cartwright could summon accents from backwoods to Fifth Avenue on demand. At ninety-six, she was the most powerful fire witch in the coven, and few dared challenge her when she decided to be difficult. Caden Running Bear squatted down and met her steely gaze eye-to-eye. “Ma’am,” he said in the endlessly patient tone Riley had learned raised her hackles, “Please let me help you and Riley get away from here.”
“You know my granddaughter?”
His gaze slid to her, moving quickly up and down. Riley stopped her hand as it moved to tug down her pajama shorts over her bare legs. She hid her bad arm behind Granny’s back.
They all turned at the sounds of pounding wolf feet. Multiple bodies leapt into the yawing portal and disappeared. Then, an explosion. Faster than she could move away, Caden wrapped Riley and Granny in his arms and pushed them to the ground under him. A shock wave and then a blast of intense heat passed over, rattling tree branches and bringing the stink of sulfur.
Riley pushed Caden’s arm aside. “Shit, the portal is gone.”
“Plan B,” Caden said, his face close to hers. His warm breath tickled her cheek and made her realize just how cold she was. “I’ll know soon enough if any of the pack was injured. Mrs. Cartwright, Riley,” he said again, “How far is Haven Road?”
“Half a mile east,” Granny said. She pushed at his arm. “I’m not dead and I can walk, youngster. Who are you?”
He sat up, taking each woman’s hand and tugging them to their feet. In the light from the fire, she saw him frown as Riley limped a few steps. “Ma’am, I’m Caden Running Bear, Red Canyon pack Gamma and Head of Security for Hawkins Investigations.”
Granny poked him in the chest. “Not what I meant, young man. What are you to my granddaughter?”
“Can we talk later? Any Whitewater survivors will be looking for us. We have to move.”
“He’s right, Granny.” Riley hugged her great-grandmother close. To Caden, she said, “Transport?”
He thumbed his watch, then angled his head. “This way is east.”
Granny limped to his side and gave him a shove. “I live here. I know which way is east.”
“Yes, ma’am.” For an instant longer, he stared, then offered her his arm in an old-fashioned courtly gesture. She took it, regal like a queen. “Lead the way,” he said.
Riley sighed and followed behind, hugging her arms to her chest. She was coming down from the adrenaline high and the short moments of contact with Caden’s body made her feel the chill she’d so far been able to ignore. Rocks bruised her feet. Her toes and fingers were numb. She swore under her breath as she stumbled over a branch and nearly went down. Caden paused and wordlessly held out his hand. Tired and angry, she placed her fingers in his. The weak moonlight let her see his frown as his warmth seeped into her. He pulled her close, and she almost moaned at the pleasure of his heat seeping through his sweater.
“You okay Cartwright?”
“I’m fine, Running Shorts.”
They started walking again. Riley peeked around Caden’s broad chest at Granny, but she seemed to be fine. Caden had shortened his strides to match her speed, but they were still making good progress through the trees.
Behind them, the glow from the fire rose above treetops and in the distance, she heard the wail of sirens. She had so many questions. How had they been found? Granny warded her house and the land around so she would know if danger approached. But as a healer, she’d refused to go as far as making her home invisible to someone who might need her. Why had the wards failed tonight?
She looked back at the sound of a muffled crash, her steps faltering. “Walls collapsing,” Caden said quietly. “I’m sorry for both of you to lose your home this way.”
“Someone’s going to pay,” Granny said through set teeth. “My great-great-great-grandparents built that place when Wheeling wasn’t even a speck on a map.”
Riley thought of the soft, old quilts on her bed, her childhood collections of mystery books, flocked animals and carefully decorated treasure boxes of snakeskins and feathers she’d discovered wandering in the woods. All gone. She’d meant to take pictures, but somehow, every visit to Granny’s was never long enough.
And this visit might have been permanent, except--. “Gods,” she said, pulling up short. “My badge.”
“Can be replaced,” Caden said wrapping his arm around her and urging her on.
Riley blinked away the beginning of tears. She hated feeling lost. “Have you ever lost a home, Running Around?”
“Yes.” Then, “Here we are.”
Caen guided them out from the treeline and lifted them one-at-a-time over the deep swail and onto the road. Haven was a two-lane gravel logging route unused this time of year. A few hundred feet from where they emerged, a car flashed its headlights, and Caden turned them in that direction. Riley winced as the gravel stung her bare feet. Caden strode along on the rough surface as if it was flat. Ugh. How was he doing that?
A tiny female vampire with short punk hair and multiple piercings in each ear stepped from the driver’s door and waved them to move faster. “Luca has a jet waiting at a private air field about 30 minutes from here.” She opened one of the vehicle’s back doors.
“Vic, how the hell are you doing pickup?”
“I was meeting with the Interspecies Council. The new vampire rep wanted me there to solidify his authority.”
“But the call—”
“Goes out to multiple locations for situations just like this. Their network is sick. And I’m tired of being treated like royalty.” She gave an impish grin. “Luca was going to send another of his magic minions, but I beat them to the car.”
The vampire smiled at Riley and Granny. “Heat’s on, ladies, and there are blankets and bottled waters in back. Settle in.”
Riley was too tired to shrug away Caden’s arm as he helped them into the car. His hand lingered on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. She looked up, but his eyes, which she knew were a delicious shade of chocolate brown, lay in shadow. A bit of his hair, he’d let it grow since the last she saw him, was falling onto his forehead. Moonlight accented the sharp planes of his face. Her heart began to hurt all over again.
Riley sighed and scooted onto the seat, stifling a moan at the welcome comfort. The vampire hadn’t been lying about the heat. The air was warm and the butter-soft seats were toasty. They both shivered as Riley helped Granny fasten her seatbelt, then tucked several blankets around her. She looked up as Caden settled in the front passenger seat and the vampire started the engine. He looked over his shoulder.
“Are either of you injured?”
Granny took that moment to begin coughing.
“That answers that question.”
“Caden, they had fire that didn’t obey my magic.”
“We know. It’s called brimstone. Another horror courtesy of Victor Markovic.”
“That fucker again?”
“Language, Riley,” Granny mumbled from under her blankets.
“Yes, Granny.”
She saw Caden muffle a smile, then his expression turned serious. “In the wreck after the casino fire, records were found in a fire-proof file. The warlock doctor who treated the vampire court also dabbled in forbidden chemistry. I won’t pretend to understand how it works, but it’s Dark Magic and very nasty. Then they found a warlock who perfected the spell and could wield it. Those western forest fires that wouldn’t go out? Early experiments with brimstone. Markovic wanted a terror weapon to threaten his drug network that he was back and meaner than ever.”
Riley cuddled next to Granny, who had already shut her eyes and was snoring softly. She pulled her legs under her and wrapped them in a blanket. “This never ends.”
He reached back, offering her his hand, and slowly, she took it, accepting his gentle squeeze. “The attendants on IC planes all have first aid training.” He glanced at Granny. “How bad?”
“Neither of us are burned. She’s been coughing so probably some smoke inhalation?”
He ran his fingers over her palm .“You’ve got scrapes here. I’ll bet your feet aren’t thanking you for running barefoot over frozen ground.”
“We climbed out through the old coal chute. It was filthy, probably hasn’t been used in fifty years.”
She pulled her hand away and tried to open a bottle of water, swearing silently as the fingers on her nerve-damaged arm refused to work. Caden heaved a sigh, plucked the bottle from her hand and with a single twist, opened the bottle. His expression blank, he handed it back to her.
She nodded her thanks and sipped.Caden turned and folded his arms, leaning back against the headrest.
Riley took a few sips, then felt her great-grandmother’s cheek, her hands and toes, pleased that her skin was beginning to warm. For herself, she still shivered, whether from adrenaline or the cold, didn’t matter. Whitewater had invaded and destroyed her home. Since she was on vacation, the locals would report the incident to her office, and her bosses would not be pleased. Attempted murder of a federal agent was never taken lightly. But she knew her agency was powerless against something in which they didn’t believe.
Inside the car was quiet, the motor a low hum as the vampire turned off the logging road onto a highway and sped up to a point just below the limit on a State Trooper’s radar. Headlights illuminated bands of heavier snow blowing horizontally across the road. Vic maneuvered skillfully around semis and slower cars, making what Riley knew was good time. There weren’t many private airfields near Wheeling and after passing two exits, Riley knew where they were headed. Granny snorted and came awake as Vic braked the car suddenly for another slow-moving vehicle.
“Where are we, honey?”
“On the way to Fort Clark.”
“The old Air Force base?”
Vic said over her shoulder, “The Interspecies Council bought the land after it was decommissioned and has maintained the runways and control tower.”
Gods, she was tired, and she didn’t really want to fight, but this attack was too much. “Before now, the Interspecies Council never raised a hand, or paw, to help fire witches when they were driven from place to place. Why now?”
“You called,” he said simply. “Maybe if your coven didn’t hide so well or else tried to raise the issue with a witch representative, things might have been different.”
“How can you ever understand?”
“I understand plenty, Agent Cartwright.” He pointed at the faded sign as Vic pulled into the airfield main road. “We’re here.”
Riley huffed and sat back in her seat, ignoring her grandmother’s raised eyebrows. Beyond the dilapidated appearance of the older signs outside, exterior fencing was news and the old base’s main road was clear of snow and newly paved. Outbuildings were well lit as was the control tower. Lines of parked cars testified to activity going on inside many of the buildings. They were waved past several guard posts and Vic guided the car to the front of huge hangar, its doors partly open. Golden light from inside spilled out into the night.
Riley scrubbed her face. “I don’t even know what time it is.”
“About three AM. The flight is several hours. You’ll get checked for injuries, then you can sleep. We’ll land in Jackson around dawn their time.”
“You’re taking us to Red Canyon?”
“It’s the safest place for you now.”
Granny harrumphed. “What is Red Canyon?”
“Ma’am, it’s our home pack lands and is heavily warded against intruders. We’ve been taking in fire witches seeking sanctuary from Whitewater, then helping them relocate to safe covens.”
“Did you know about this?” she said suddenly to Riley.
“No, Granny.I’m as surprised as you.”
“But you know these people.”
She took a breath and sighed. “I never told you, but yes, I know them.”
“Hmmm.” Granny was giving her one of those looks, the one that said she knew a lot was being left unsaid. “Can’t say there’s anything to go back to now. And I certainly don’t want you anywhere near them that hurt you.”
Caden exited the car, then held Granny’s door and gently helped her out. Riley saw them speaking in low voices, then watched, flabbergasted as Granny let Caden pick her up and carry her towards an executive jet being prepped in the hangar. Riley started at the quiet knock on her window. It was Vic. Riley undid her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, shivering at the blast of cold. Vic draped the blanket back around her shoulders. “I’m strong enough to carry you, but not sure you’d let me.”
“You’re correct,” Riley said shortly, then winced at the feel of chilled and scratchy concrete on her bruised feet.
She felt his footsteps, then she smelled Caden: pine resin, cold mountain water, smoky spice, as he approached them. “I won’t give you a choice,” he said, and before she could draw breath to argue, he picked her up and strode towards the plane.
She was too tired and sore to argue. The heat from his body seeped into her. She rested her head on his shoulder, just for a moment, she thought, one hand on his chest. His heart beat a comforting rhythm under her palm. The scared skin there was still so sensitive, but the even pulse of his blood soothed the aches in her hands.
Riley licked her lips and grimaced. Her mouth tasted like ashes and the stink of smoke and the unnatural fire stuck in her nose. In the bright lights inside the hangar, she got an eyeful of just how grimy and disgusting she looked. “Yuck,” she said, turning her hands over and over. Streaks of ancient coal dust scored her arms and legs. Her once pink pajamas were smeared with more of the stuff plus bits of dead leaves, tree bark, and mud. Her feet were black with muck. “Ugh, Caden, put me down, I’m filthy,” she said as he climbed the plane’s ramp.
“When we’re inside,” he said, deftly navigating the narrow aisle. “Your grandmother’s being checked over. The bedroom suite has a shower. You can both get cleaned up and put on fresh clothes. We’ll take off once your settled.”
He angled them sideways as he moved down the aisle. Riley stared at the plane’s interior. Oh sure, she’d seen plenty of movies that showed the inside of private jets, but reality was far more intimidating.
At the entrance, an attendant puttered in a well-appointed galley kitchen. Delicious aromas teased her nose as Caden strode by. Gods, she’d about kill for a good cup of coffee right now. Underfoot, plush carpet muffled his footsteps. At the front of the main cabin, rows of beige leather seats each had its own window, footrest and folding desk. At the back, seats had been made up as beds with multiple fluffy pillows and comforters. Caden strode to the rear, and a tall, handsome witch with classic Mediterranean good looks rose from his seat and held the door to the rear sleeping compartment. He flashed Riley a wide smile. “Do I know you?” she said.
The man chuckled. “We met once a long time ago. Take care,” he said, then quietly closed the door behind them. Carefully, Caden set Riley on her feet, steadying her. The muffled sounds of a shower seeped through a nearby door.
“Your grandmother’s in there,” he said, shifting his gaze. “She asked to clean up once checked out, but we’ll give her oxygen when she’s settled. Now, please don’t lie to me. How bad are you hurt?”
She fingered her messy braid, then risked a look into his serious brown eyes .“I’m cold and my feet and hands are bruised. Other than that, I’m just disgustingly dirty.”
“Thank you for calling.”
Her hackles rose. “That fucking phone. You knew I’d steal it and you knew none of our guys could unlock it.”
He waited a second. “Yes.”
She drew breath on a scathing reply, but stopped at the worried look in his eyes. He’d filled out in the two months since she’d last seen him. Same high cheekbones, same sensual mouth. No more tired circles under his eyes. More muscle. Everywhere. His limp was there, and she smelled the acrid tang from a lingering hex afflicting him with unresolved pain. The hands that gently gripped her arms easily spanned her biceps. With werewolf strength, he could crush her. But Caden Running Bear checked his strength. From the few days they’d worked together, she knew he wasn’t the type to try and overwhelm to impress. He was a mountain, solid and hard to move while she was fire and liked to poke and prod to get what she wanted.
The last time they’d been together, they’d shared the hottest kiss in the history of kissing, and on impulse, she’d stolen his wallet and phone. Why? She wasn’t sure, except she’d been unwilling to let go the chance to meet this man again. To then realize he’d anticipated her move had been galling. That’s why she’d resisted using his phone. And he knew it.
She sniffed her annoyance and stepped away from his grasp. The bathroom door opened, and Granny exited wrapped in a too-big terrycloth robe. Wispy damp hair curled around her round face, and her cheeks were rosy. Her eagle-sharp blue eyes twinkled as she spied the two of them. Her eyebrows rose, a novella of observation in one gesture. She pursed her lips as she tied her robe shut. “Shower’s yours, honey. There’s lots of hot water. Take your time. This young man and I have things to discuss.”
“Granny—”
Arabella Cartwright held up one blue-veined hand, the universal symbol for everyone else to shut up and listen. “Clean up girl. I promise not to make him squirm. Too much.”
Caden gave her a nudge towards the bathroom. “Don’t worry, Cartwright, I’ve got this.”
