Curling her feet up under her body, she balanced on the balls of her feet and waited for an opening.
The dog took a step forward, his head swinging toward the man. His mouth opened to release a howl that sent chills racing down her spine.
She bit her lip until she tasted blood.
Death. That was the sound of death, and not a pretty one.
Damn her for her weakness, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave. Sensing she had only as long as it took the dog to complete his glass-breaking call to make her choice, she raised shaking hands and held them, palms out, toward the dog.
Power. She needed power. Again she concentrated on feeling strong, in control.
Heat tickled her palms, then crept up her arms. Strong, she was strong. In a surge, the energy exploded into the rest of her body, filling every molecule. She breathed power, opened her eyes and could see power.
The dog was surrounded by red bands of undulating energy that grew darker and more angry as his howl continued. The man, his legs curled into his chest, emitted nothing more than a light yellow haze.
What had Risk said about witches? They pulled power from those around them? Was she pulling power from the dog that she now was going to use against him?
Her hands outstretched, she swallowed hard. She could do it. She could kill this dog, steal its life as easily as that other dog had stolen Jessie’s. Send it to hell.
Eyes trained on the baying beast in front of her, she breathed in, then released all the power waiting inside her.
Risk lowered his head, his death call complete. His prey was curled into himself, not even bothering to run. The hound in Risk mourned such an easy kill.
Run, Risk urged his prey, using the telepathy only available to him in his hound form.
The man’s gaze shot to Risk, then behind him. A glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes.
Risk turned, suddenly realizing the shift in the air. Energy was draining from around him, streaming toward the building behind him — to a lone figure crouched at its base.
Kara.
Before he could form another thought, two parallel streams of blue fire shot toward him. He dropped, the energy crackling as it passed over his body.
Kara had attacked him.
For a second his mind spun. Had he been right when he saw her collapsed inside that circle? Had she been trying to trap him then? To kill or capture him now?
No, even with his mind clouded by his beastly form, he knew that wasn’t true. Realized she had no idea he and the dog she feared were one.
The line of fire over him died. Next to the building, Kara teetered to her feet. She was breathing hard, her knees and arms shaking. Bracketing her body against the bar building, she closed her eyes.
What was she doing? Risk pushed himself to his feet, preparing to go to her. Then he heard it, the whoosh of energy being sucked from around him, from him.
She was stealing his power — to use against him. It shouldn’t surprise him. It was what he had told Venge Lusse did — and it was, but Lusse was more like a sponge sopping up the excess. To suction power the way Kara was attempting took ritual and concentration even Lusse couldn’t manage with no preparation or tools.
And it ended with only one outcome — death for the target and power lust for the initiator.
Power was surging into Kara. Stronger this time, quicker. Her heart pounded, her body pulsed as if she were at a rock concert, the bass driving against her over and over.
She flipped her eyelids open, watched the red energy flow over the parking lot, welcomed it with her arms held wide.
What she could do with such power. Find Kelly. Save herself. Never be afraid — make others afraid instead.
No, some tiny part of her objected. Not that. That wasn’t what she wanted.
Another wave of energy rippled into her. She closed her eyes savoring the warmth, letting herself soar.
Heady. She could get lost in this feeling, addicted. Exist on nothing but power.
“Kara,” Risk’s voice snapped inside her head. “Kara. Break the connection. Stop the pull. You can’t handle it — it’s too much. You won’t survive.”
Kara frowned. Risk. What was he doing here, trying to stop her fun?
She needed to feel strong. Deserved to feel strong.
Another current pulsed against her. She arched her back, opening her chest, letting the power pour into her.
Too much? It would never be too much. She would drain the dog, the man, then anything that even hinted of magic.
She would drain the world.
“Kara,” the voice was more urgent now. “Kara you have to stop. You’ll kill yourself, and kill me. Who will save Kelly then?”
Kill Risk? She wouldn’t kill Risk or herself. She blinked; his words made no sense. And where was he? Her view blurry, she looked around the parking lot — nothing but the dog and the man. No Risk.
“Kara, look at me,” the voice said again.
She tilted her head — the man? Was he playing a trick on her? No, as she stared at him, her attacker flipped to his knees, then with one backward glace, broke into a run, leaving his knife and stunner behind.
He escaped. Damn him — taking his power with him, measly though it was, it was her power now. She narrowed her eyes, her arms shooting out in front of her. She would stop him. Teach him not to take what was hers.
“Kara.” It was a yell now, and so loud, Kara jerked in response. “Look at me. Look at what is happening to you.”
Kara turned her head, scanning the lot, her gaze finally falling on the dog. He looked weaker now, his head hanging lower, his tail drooping between his legs.
“Kara, look at me.”
The dog. The voice was coming from the dog — no, her head. The voice was in her head, but the dog was responsible.
“Risk?” she murmured, her hands falling an inch.
“Kara.” He was tired. She could hear it. Feel it.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” she asked.
“The power. Let it go, Kara. You can’t handle it.”
She stood there, the power whipping around her, through her. Her hands trembling with her desire for more.
“It will destroy you. Make you want nothing but more.”
More. She did want more.
She stared down at her hands, turned her palms toward her, unintentionally breaking the connection.
A groan sounded from across the pavement. She looked up and saw Risk, naked, crumpled onto the snow.
Dear God. What had she done?
She ran to him, sliding and falling along the way, but picking herself up and continuing until she collapsed by his side.
She pressed her hands to his bare chest, felt the movement of breaths and the reassuring warmth of his body.
He sighed, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing along her cheek. “Blue. Your eyes are
