Circle Of Death

Camille's list was correct, they'd had the name of the killer all along. Only Felicity Barnes's name wasn't on it, so where did she fit in?

Her face was troubled, green eyes silvered with tears. 'Helen was sure.'

And because it was Helen, she believed it. While he'd never been one to trust the word of ghosts, he did trust Kirby's judgement. 'Did Helen say anything else?'

She hesitated. 'She said that I had to find the fourth point and save her. Then I had to stop the fifth.'

'You won't be stopping anyone. You'll be tucked away somewhere nice and safe.'

Her gaze searched his for a second. 'I'm the only one who can stop her. Helen told me that.'

'Well, Helen's wrong. Camille's a damn powerful witch, and Russ and I aren't a bad backup team.

We've handled a lot worse than this, believe me.'

She didn't. He could sense the doubt in her mind, the fear. Despite everything, despite what she was feeling—albeit unwillingly—she still didn't trust him. Or rather, didn't trust his ability to keep her safe.

Perhaps, given her past, that was understandable, but it was also damned annoying. 'What more do I have to do to prove myself to you?' he added, voice holding an edge.

She turned away, but not before he saw the sheen of tears on her cheeks. He took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry—' She held up a hand. 'Forget it. Let's just go get that coffee.'

Her voice was flat. Emotionless. The total opposite to her thoughts, which careened chaotically from wanting to trust to desperately needing to run from him and everything she was feeling.

He wasn't the only one who'd been hit by the emotional club, but it appeared he was the only one who really understood it. He had to give her time to get used to him, to get used to what she was feeling, or she'd run for sure. And now that he'd found her, he didn't want to lose her.

They headed down the street and eventually found a small coffee shop just opening. He guided her inside, chose a table in the back shadows close to the rear exit, and ordered them both breakfast and coffee.

She did little more than pick at her toast, but at least she was trying. He was hungrier than he'd thought and wolfed down his eggs and bacon. Settling back in the chair, he picked up his coffee and watched her over the rim.

Heat crept across her cheeks. She brushed the hair out of her eyes then met his gaze. 'Stop it.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'Stop what?'

'Looking at me that way… like I was some sort of luscious bun you can't wait to devour.'

He grinned. 'Well, you're certainly the tastiest morsel I've tried in a long, long time.'

'Yeah, I'm likely to believe that.'

He shrugged. Nothing he said right now would make her believe otherwise. She was looking for excuses to keep him at a distance. He put his coffee back on the table, then crossed his arms and leaned forward.

'Do the names Marline Thomas, Trina Jones or Vicki Campbell mean anything to you?'

She frowned. 'No. Why?'

'Because they're all on Camille's list of possible victims. If your ghost is right, then one of them is the killer.'

Her frown deepened. 'But there are three names. If two are already dead and I'm the third, there should be only two.'

'Camille did the reading right after the first killing. Maybe the killer wasn't sure of the names of her other victims until later. Maybe what Camille picked up was a list of the killer's possibles.'

'But why would the killer put her own name on the list?'

'Maybe she was adopted and had her name changed, and she wasn't exactly sure which of the five she actually was.'

'That's pushing it, don't you think?' She sipped at her coffee for a moment. 'Helen told me that she'd tried to find out who her parents were, and that's why we were involved.'

'The first victim had also begun looking for relatives.' Maybe their killer worked for the government department responsible for adoptions. Why else would they all be killed after they'd begun inquiries, and not before? 'Had you?'

She shook her head, grimacing slightly. 'Too afraid to.'

If she hadn't have been, she might now be dead, right alongside Helen. He reached out and clasped her hand. 'Sometimes it's better not to know.'

She wrenched her hand from his. 'Have you got parents? Family?'

'Yes.'

'Then how the hell could you know that? You've never known what it's like to be alone, knowing there was no one— no one—you could really turn to when…'

She broke off, but her unfinished sentence whispered through him, sharp with pain and memories. When the bad things happened . She was right, of course. He could never know what it had been like for her, but he could imagine. For the last ten years he'd been alone, away from his family, and it had certainly provided an insight. And yeah, he'd had friends and the occasional lover to fill the void, but it just wasn't the same.

And she'd spent her entire life with that feeling. 'At least you had Helen,' he murmured lamely.

She looked down at the table. 'Yeah. I guess I did.'

He watched her a minute longer, then resignedly got out his cell phone and dialed Camille. He quickly filled her in on what the ghostly Helen had told Kirby.

'I was afraid of this,' Camille muttered. 'That circle being carved into the doors has to represent an elemental circle.'

'Which is?' He pulled the phone away from his ear so Kirby could hear. The old witch had a loud voice, and it would carry across the table easily enough.

'It was thought for a long time to be little more than a myth, but we've been doing some research and our findings are saying otherwise.' She sniffed. 'An elemental circle is the combination of five elements—fire, water, earth and air. The fifth element is strength. One of those five is usually the binding element. We think it might be strength, but as no one's encountered an elemental circle before now, we can't be sure.'

'Sounds like a pentagram.'

'It ain't. A pentagram is used to perform magic or to protect. An elemental circle is a force .'

'Why would one of the five be killing the others, if they need each other to work this circle?'

'She's not just killing them, she's sucking their abilities from them. Maybe she tasted the power once and now hungers for it all.'

His gaze met Kirby's. The caretaker had said they'd formed the circle to attack him. That's when it had started, all those years ago. But why wait until now to attack? It didn't make any sense. 'One of those three names on your list might be the killer, Camille.'

'If the list is right, Kirby certainly wasn't on it.'

'It's the only real lead we have right now. We have no other choice but to trust it.'

Camille grunted. 'True. I'll take Trina Jones. You two can take Vicki Campbell and Marline Thomas. If none of us is successful, Russ can continue the search tonight.'

'You got addresses?' He pulled a pen from his pocket and grabbed a table napkin, quickly jotting them down as Camille read them out. There were close to fifteen. They weren't going to get through them all today.

'Kirby wants to head home and grab some money and clothes, then we'll head off.'

'Don't go back to your car. Leave whatever is in her bag right where it is. Safer that way for you both.'

He frowned. 'Someone will report it as abandoned.'

'So? You didn't actually rent it did you?'

He glanced at Kirby. She'd raised an eyebrow, a knowing gleam in her eyes. 'Well, no.' And he'd worn gloves when driving, so they wouldn't find his prints. But they'd find Kirby's. And they'd find her backpack.

'Believe an old witch when she says its best not to go back to that car. If she saw you in Rachel Grant's house, she's had the time to set a trap. Kirby's probably got a car. Use that.'

He hadn't thought of that. He raised an eyebrow in query, and she nodded.

'Keep in contact, Shapechanger. Hourly reports.'

'Will do.' He disconnected and tucked the phone away. Kirby picked up the list, studying it. 'The third address is actually not far away from my place.'