Kelley Armstrong - Stolen

"Who's that?" She pointed at Clay, standing in the doorway, then realized she was pointing and turned the gesture into a wave.

"Clayton," I said. "My-"

"Ruth told me about him. Your husband, right?"

"Uh-right."

Savannah gave Clay the adolescent girl's version of a once-over, which didn't extend lower than his neck. She nodded approvingly, then leaned forward, nearly tripping over me.

"Who's that?"

"Adam Vasic," Adam said, stepping into the room with a mock bow.

Savannah stifled a giggle. "Ruth mentioned you. The fire-demon. That doesn't sound too bad, but what can you do? Besides start fires?"

"We really should-" Paige began.

"It's Savannah Levine, right?" Adam asked.

Savannah nodded. Adam extended his hand with a flourish, paused, then put his finger to the wall. The drywall smoked. Using his finger, he scorched S. L., then drew a heart around it.

Savannah's face lit up, but she struggled to hide it under a veil of indifference. "Not bad. But anyone can do that with a magnifying glass. Don't you have any real powers?"

"Later," Clay said. "We have two more cells to empty."

Adam stepped aside to let Savannah pass, holding the door open for her. She pretended to ignore him, but couldn't hide a tiny smile and one last glance at his artwork on the wall. Poor Xavier. So easily ousted from Savannah's affections by a younger, more powerful half-demon. How fickle the heart of a twelve-year-old girl.

As Savannah walked past Adam, she collided with Clay blocking the exit.

"She stays here," he said. "Paige can look after her."

Savannah yelped.

"We should have released her last," Clay said. "There could still be some guards left. I don't want her wandering about."

"I won't wander-"

Clay cut her off with a look. They locked eyes, then Savannah dropped her gaze.

"Fine," she said. She turned on her heel, stalked to her bed, and threw herself atop it, arms crossed, facing the wall.

"Adam, stay with them," Clay said. "Stand guard."

"I don't need anyone to protect me," Savannah said, flipping over and sitting up, pique vanishing as Adam approached. "But you can look after her. " She jerked her chin toward Paige. "She looks like she might need help."

"This is going to be fun," Paige murmured under her breath. "Couldn't you have found me a sweet little eight-year-old witch?"

"It could be worse," I said. "She could be sixteen."

"Someday, she will be."

Two prisoners left. Curtis Zaid, the Vodoun priest, and a new captive in the cell across from my old one.

"What do you think he is?" I asked Clay, tilting my head to study the newcomer. "I heard they were trying to capture a vampire, but this guy doesn't look too anemic, does he?"

That was an understatement. The man in the cell was at least six foot three, with broad shoulders and plenty of muscles, shown off by a sleeveless sweatshirt and well-worn jeans. Definitely not anemic.

"You can stop drooling, darling," Clay said.

I made a face at him and looked back at the stranger. "You think he's a vampire?"

"Want me to stick my neck in and find out?"

"Maybe later. For now, I think we should leave him where he is. Just to be safe."

We walked to Curtis Zaid's cell. I watched him through the one-way glass, trying to assess his mental stability.

"He looks okay," I said. "No ranting and cursing. I think the poor guy's lost it, but he isn't dangerous. He doesn't have any true power. More likely to be a nuisance than a threat."

"Let's get him out, then," Clay said, opening the door.

As we stepped into the cell, Zaid turned and pulled something from his head. Earphones, connected to a CD player on the table. He closed his book and laid it on top of a VCR. CDs? Videos? Hell, all I ever got were old books and a television with two fuzzy stations. Maybe I should have taken up cursing.

"We're here to let you out, Curtis," I said.

Zaid didn't appear the least bit surprised. Maybe he was too far gone. Ignoring us, he stood and headed for the door. We moved back to let him out. He stepped into the hall, stopped, and looked around, as if expecting a trap. Then he started for the exit.

"Uh, you don't want to leave just yet," I called. "It's a long hike to the nearest town."

Zaid kept walking.

"Let him go," Clay said. "He won't get far. We'll find him before we leave."

Savannah ran from her cell. Adam whirled from his guard-post position and tried to snatch her arm but missed.

"Are you done yet?" she called. "Can we go now? Hey, is that Mr. Zaid?" She stopped a few feet from Zaid, stared up at him, and took a tiny step back. "That's not a Voodoo-"

"Savannah!" Paige said, running from the cell. "I told you to stay-"

She pulled up short. I followed her gaze to Zaid, who'd stopped and was slowly turning to face the two witches. Paige went white. Stark white. Zaid lifted his hand as if in greeting. Savannah's feet flew from under her. She sailed through the air.

"Savannah! "Paige screamed and threw herself at the girl.

Savannah's body hovered in midair for a second, then hurtled toward us like a rock from a slingshot. No, not toward us. Toward the wall behind us. Clay and I wheeled around, arms out to grab her. Her body stuck my shoulder hard enough to slam me into the wall. Clay lunged, catching us both before we hit the floor.

I looked over Clay's shoulder and saw Paige standing five feet from Zaid. They faced each other, both silent. Zaid's lips curved in a tiny smile.

"It's been a long time since I had the pleasure of confronting a witch," he said. "And here I have two at once. Pity they're only apprentices. We could have had some fun."

He fluttered one hand and Paige's knees buckled. She stumbled, but caught herself.

"Better an apprentice witch than a back-stabbing sorcerer," she said.

"Katzen," I whispered.

While I crouched on the floor holding Savannah, Adam and Clay stepped toward Katzen from opposite sides. He glanced at them and waved a circle with one hand. Clay stopped short, blinking. He reached forward. His hand seemed to hit something hard but invisible. He swung his fist, but his hand stopped in mid-swing. Katzen slanted a bored glance at us.

"Don't bother," he said. "This is between me and the witch. Enjoy the show, but don't make yourselves too comfortable. It won't last long." He turned to Paige. "I'm feeling magnanimous today, witch. Concede and I'll let you go."

"No deal," Paige said. "But if you concede, I'll let you go."

Katzen flipped his wrist. This time Paige mumbled a few words and stayed his hand. He flexed his fingers, easily snapping the binding spell, but when he tried the gesture again, Paige cast another spell, stopping his hand before he completed the motion.

"Good try," he said. "But you're wasting your time. No witch, particularly an apprentice, can hope to out-fight a sorcerer. I'm sure you know your history. You witches are so good at remembering the past. All you have left, really. Rather sad."

"I know my history lessons," Paige said. "Any true powers sorcerers have came from witches. We taught you everything, but when the Inquisition began, did you protect us? No. The moment you were targeted, you handed them our heads on a silver platter. We gave you power and you betrayed us."

"Perhaps I was wrong," Katzen said. "History isn't all you have left. There's bitterness, too. Bitterness and envy."

Katzen lifted both hands. Paige's lips moved, but before any spell came out, she vaulted into the air. She hit the ground rolling from the impact, then vanished. Disappeared. Katzen scanned the floor.

"A cover spell. How original." He turned, stomped down one foot, turned again, stomped again, as if trying to squash a fleeing ant.