one
thing. He was about to crack. And a cracked Luke was not something any of
them needed or wanted to see right now.
Sally picked up on the tension that had
fallen upon them and reached across the table, patting Lola’s arm. “They are
for now. The figure behind this is playing with them. I don’t think he’s
ready to end this.”
Mitchell forced himself to take a long
breath. His fear was hot, and a sickening shiver skidded around his stomach. Playing
with them. He didn’t want to think about what that could mean, because
when he did, his imagination ran wild with grisly images of torture. He let
out the breath slowly. “Why can’t we feel them?” Mitchell asked.
“Because someone is tapping into Amelia’s
energy stream,” Sally said happily, with a dreamy look in her eyes. She sat
back in her chair and let out a longing sigh. “They’re using the girls’ power
to mask their connections to you two. It’s really amazing. Those cross-breeds
must have a lot of kick to them. Handling magic from the Caldwell coven is not
easily done. The power tends to have a mind of its own.”
Mitchell swallowed the snarl that tried to
escape at the thought of someone else using Amelia’s magic against her. His
shoulders tensed, the muscles under his skin rolled, and it took every bit of
will power he had to stay seated and probe the psychic for more information.
“And you cannot see who is doing all this?”
“No, not clearly, but I can see that his
motives revolve around you,” she said to Mitchell.
He threw his arms up in exasperation. “Of
course it does.” The movement was a mistake. As soon as his hand left Eric’s
shoulder, he shot up out of his chair. Mitchell had to wrestle him back to his
chair.
“Eric, you can’t just rush out there. If
you make a wrong move, it could get them killed,” Luke said, as his eyes
narrowed and his lips formed a thin line. “We don’t know who or what we’re
dealing with here.”
Mitchell guessed that the old saying held
some truth; karma really was a bitch. There was a tug-of-war going on inside
him. One side wanted to start a war and mindlessly kill anyone or anything
that stood in his way of finding Amelia, but the sensible side was fighting for
himto stand down, listen to logic, and most importantly, to not make a
move until he knew what he was dealing with.
“Um, this may be a dumb question, but why
are we just sitting here?” Angelle asked. She had been sitting there silently,
her eyes bouncing back and forth between everyone as if she was watching a
Ping-Pong match. “Shouldn’t we be out scouting the area and trying to track
them?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Eric said, which
floored everyone. He looked around the table, counting them off and mouthing each
number, twice. “I think we need to talk to Erin.”
“What?” Lola snapped. “What’s that baby
going to know that we don’t?”
“She’ll know where Tristan is,” Mitchell
said, plucking the answer from Eric as if they shared the same brain, but
really, he had just noticed the same thing Eric had. Erin wasn’t there.
“Erin left twenty minutes ago,” Sally
offered.
Mitchell gritted his teeth, biting back the
overwhelming urge to snap her neck. “You heard her leave?” he growled, seeing
nothing but red. Had he read the witch wrong? Was she merely meant to be a
distraction?
“No, no. I didn’t hear her, I saw her,”
Sally said, tapping her finger against the side of her head. “She needed to go
in order for the pieces to align and to present the next step to us. Whoever
she ran after is involved with the girls, and Erin loves him against all
reason.”
“Tristan,” Mitchell breathed. He sucked in
a sharp breath, and his anger ran cold.
“Mitch,” Tyler said. “Tristan’s a punk.
He couldn’t really do all this, could he?” He tried for conviction, but the
way his eyes darted back and
thing. He was about to crack. And a cracked Luke was not something any of
them needed or wanted to see right now.
Sally picked up on the tension that had
fallen upon them and reached across the table, patting Lola’s arm. “They are
for now. The figure behind this is playing with them. I don’t think he’s
ready to end this.”
Mitchell forced himself to take a long
breath. His fear was hot, and a sickening shiver skidded around his stomach. Playing
with them. He didn’t want to think about what that could mean, because
when he did, his imagination ran wild with grisly images of torture. He let
out the breath slowly. “Why can’t we feel them?” Mitchell asked.
“Because someone is tapping into Amelia’s
energy stream,” Sally said happily, with a dreamy look in her eyes. She sat
back in her chair and let out a longing sigh. “They’re using the girls’ power
to mask their connections to you two. It’s really amazing. Those cross-breeds
must have a lot of kick to them. Handling magic from the Caldwell coven is not
easily done. The power tends to have a mind of its own.”
Mitchell swallowed the snarl that tried to
escape at the thought of someone else using Amelia’s magic against her. His
shoulders tensed, the muscles under his skin rolled, and it took every bit of
will power he had to stay seated and probe the psychic for more information.
“And you cannot see who is doing all this?”
“No, not clearly, but I can see that his
motives revolve around you,” she said to Mitchell.
He threw his arms up in exasperation. “Of
course it does.” The movement was a mistake. As soon as his hand left Eric’s
shoulder, he shot up out of his chair. Mitchell had to wrestle him back to his
chair.
“Eric, you can’t just rush out there. If
you make a wrong move, it could get them killed,” Luke said, as his eyes
narrowed and his lips formed a thin line. “We don’t know who or what we’re
dealing with here.”
Mitchell guessed that the old saying held
some truth; karma really was a bitch. There was a tug-of-war going on inside
him. One side wanted to start a war and mindlessly kill anyone or anything
that stood in his way of finding Amelia, but the sensible side was fighting for
himto stand down, listen to logic, and most importantly, to not make a
move until he knew what he was dealing with.
“Um, this may be a dumb question, but why
are we just sitting here?” Angelle asked. She had been sitting there silently,
her eyes bouncing back and forth between everyone as if she was watching a
Ping-Pong match. “Shouldn’t we be out scouting the area and trying to track
them?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Eric said, which
floored everyone. He looked around the table, counting them off and mouthing each
number, twice. “I think we need to talk to Erin.”
“What?” Lola snapped. “What’s that baby
going to know that we don’t?”
“She’ll know where Tristan is,” Mitchell
said, plucking the answer from Eric as if they shared the same brain, but
really, he had just noticed the same thing Eric had. Erin wasn’t there.
“Erin left twenty minutes ago,” Sally
offered.
Mitchell gritted his teeth, biting back the
overwhelming urge to snap her neck. “You heard her leave?” he growled, seeing
nothing but red. Had he read the witch wrong? Was she merely meant to be a
distraction?
“No, no. I didn’t hear her, I saw her,”
Sally said, tapping her finger against the side of her head. “She needed to go
in order for the pieces to align and to present the next step to us. Whoever
she ran after is involved with the girls, and Erin loves him against all
reason.”
“Tristan,” Mitchell breathed. He sucked in
a sharp breath, and his anger ran cold.
“Mitch,” Tyler said. “Tristan’s a punk.
He couldn’t really do all this, could he?” He tried for conviction, but the
way his eyes darted back and
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