Keri Arthur - Circle Of Fire

She remembered his face the last time she'd seen him—so pale and tired. If she didn't find him soon, it might be too late. At least Evan had the heavy layer of blankets to protect him from the cold.

A graceful bridge of latticed metal arched across the mouth of a wide river and swept her into Taurin Bay, where a familiar yellow sign caught her attention. She pulled into the drive-through, collecting a hamburger and the directions to the Sherbrook.

The inn was a large, square-fronted, Victorian-style house painted in pale pinks and grays. She stopped the truck and leaned against the steering wheel, studying the house.

Maybe staying here wasn't such a wise move. Jon had and had ended up down a well. Someone had obviously suspected he was here to find the missing teenagers and had tried to stop him. Would they suspect her as well?

The thought made her snort. Jon had called her ordinary and, outwardly at least, he was right. Why would anyone suspect she was anything more than a tourist? Besides, she had to stay somewhere, and most of the motels along the way had been full—not surprising with the early onset of the ski season.

She dragged her bag off the back seat and headed for the inn. The small foyer was empty when she entered, but a bell chimed softly in the distance. She shut the door and studied the room. The walls were covered in pale gold and silver wallpaper, and the window next to the front door draped with rich, burgundy curtains. An open fire blazed brightly in the sitting room to her left, lending a golden gleam to the empty plush velvet and mahogany chairs forming a semicircle around it.

The inn looked expensive. A weeklong stay would put a serious dent in her savings, but that was a small price to pay if she found Evan—and Jon—in one piece.

"Hello."

Maddie jerked her gaze back to the desk. A man stood in the doorway just behind it, his smile warm and friendly.

"Hank Stewart. I'm the night manager here," he continued, stepping forward. "How may I help you?"

She eyed him warily. Though his voice held nothing beyond politeness, something about him made her uneasy. "Do you have a room available for a couple of days?"

He opened the book in front on the desk, then nodded. "We have the Captain's quarters available at the moment."

It was his eyes, she decided when he looked up. Something unfavorable lurked in the mud-colored depths of his eyes.

She swallowed and pulled her gaze away. "How much is it?"

"It's our top room. One fifteen a night."

She winced but signed the register. Picking up her bag, she followed him along the hall and up the stairs.

The Captain's quarters turned out to be a suite comprised of a bedroom, a lounge and a large bathroom—all ornately furnished.

"Feel free to call if you need anything," he said, smiling as he gave her the key.

His fingers brushed hers, hot and yet clammy. She shuddered and pulled her hand away.

"If you want to go out tonight, just let me know," he continued. "I usually lock the door after eleven, unless we've guests still out."

She hesitated and glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven now. Who knew how long it would take her to find Jon's well. "I do have plans to go out for a while."

He nodded. "Anything else?"

"Is there a map of the area I can use?"

"Over on the mantle," he said and walked away.

She firmly closed and locked the door behind him, then leaned her forehead against it for a moment. Her whole body was trembling, and she suddenly felt sick. Over what? A man with strange brown eyes who'd offered her no threat in anything he'd said or done. I'm no good at this sort of thing. I should have stayed home.

She took a deep breath, then walked over to the mantle. Spreading the map out on the coffee table, she knelt to study it.

Jon had given her a fairly good description of the area where he'd fallen into the well. All she had to do was remember it—not an easy thing when she'd been so petrified by his appearance that first time.

She traced the lines of roads with her fingers until she found one that sounded familiar. She followed it along 'til it went through a state forest. That was it. That was the area.

After rolling up the map, she collected the room key and headed downstairs. The night air was cold, and the wind carried the hint of snow. Maddie glanced up. The stars had disappeared behind a wall of clouds. She hoped the snow held off—not just for Jon's sake, but Evan's as well. The teenagers might have blankets to keep them warm, but there'd been no sign of a fire in the old cabin. If bad weather moved in, they might freeze to death before anyone found them.

She just had to hope Jon's directions—or her memories of them—were accurate. The last thing she wanted was to drive around for hours. Every second was vital if she was to find Evan alive, of that much she was certain.

But if someone had shot Jon, there was no telling how accurate his directions were—though he'd seemed pretty lucid whenever he'd appeared before her.

Just how in the hell had he appeared, anyway? What was that? Some form of astral travel? Wasn't that the stuff of fairy tales? She snorted softly. Yeah right, just like the ability to light fires with a thought was just a fairy tale.

And in the end, did it matter? He could have horns and sprout wings, and she wouldn't give a damn. Not if he helped her find Evan.

She'd been the cause of far too much grief in her family in the past. Maybe now she had a chance to redeem herself.

She started the truck, then glanced at the street map one more time before driving off. Twenty minutes later she was back in the mountains. The road's incline grew steeper, and pines began to crowd the edges. It didn't seem the area in which to find a well, yet oddly enough, it did seem the type of area Jon would enjoy. Strange how she had gleaned so much from the few hours they'd been together.

She drove through the gates that designated the beginning of the state forest. The road became a dirt track several yards in. She slowed. If she'd read the map right, there was a small turnoff half a mile ahead. It would take her right past the shared fence line of the old farm Jon had mentioned.

The turn came up faster than she expected. She swung the steering wheel hard. Saplings slapped against the windows, and something hard scraped along the body of the truck. Heart pounding rapidly, she straightened the truck and slowed down even further. The headlights picked out the fine strands of wire running parallel to the road just ahead.

She stopped and got out. An owl hooted in the distance, a haunting sound in the silence. The chill breeze spun around her, stirring the pine branches above her head and whipping thick strands of hair away from her ponytail. She caught the flyaway ends, tucking them under the collar of her jacket, then studied the fields before her. Somehow, it felt right. She couldn't explain how or why, but she knew that Jon was here somewhere. Either that, or she was finally going mad.

She grimaced. That was still a very real possibility. After all, here she was in the middle of nowhere, trusting the words of a man who might yet prove to be a ghost.

She grabbed the flashlight and locked the truck. The fence was a mix of plain and barbed wire. After climbing through carefully, she studied the dark field. Where was the most logical position for a well? She swung the light from left to right but couldn't see any possibilities close. But in the distance she could see the dark outline of several buildings. The old farmhouse, maybe? It was as good a place as any to look for a well.

It took five minutes of tramping through the overgrown field to reach the outbuildings. To the right of what looked to have been a barn was an odd-shaped mound of stone. Her heart leapt, and she ran towards it. Please, please, let this be it…