Invisible Recruit: Invisible Power Part 28

Willie whistled.

"Let's get you out of this room and sitting down," Francois stepped in, guiding me toward the larger room and the lone couch.

"I've got to uncast the circle," I said, glancing over my shoulder. Even novice witches knew you didn't evoke the help of the Great Spirits and not say thank you. They tended to get very p.i.s.sy about things like that.

"You broke the circle when you returned," Bran said by my side. "When you landed outside it."

Oh, c.r.a.p, that wasn't good. The circle was for protection and ripping through it could mean all sorts of things. All bad.

"Sit here," Francois said, like a mother hen. "Willie can you find something strong to drink?"

I heard Willie shuffle off as I eased onto the couch, my legs not too stable. My head felt like it was splintering and my stomach was none too steady. No more scrying spells like that one.

"Tell us what happened?" Bran knelt in front of me, taking up my whole view. Francois slid to sit next to me.

I must look like I felt by the expressions on their faces.

"I saw Van." I swallowed, fighting to get beyond the image of him hurting so badly. "He's in a small cell, underground. The only light came from a small opening high in a stone wall."

"You saw could see him then?" Francois asked, incredulity staining his words. "As from afar?"

"No, I was in the cell with him." I unclenched my hands. "I could touch him, talk to him."

Francois cut a wary glance toward Bran, which I caught and resented.

"Seriously, I was in the cell with him. He's shackled with silver chains." I used my hands to show how thick they were. "And there was a dead man, a human, tossed in one corner. Just left to rot."

Willie, with timing only a Were possessed, thrust a tumbler of liquor under my nose right then and I closed my eyes and pushed it away.

"Not right now Willie," Bran said as I was busy convincing my stomach to stay down. "In a second maybe."

Bran placed a hand on my knee, which helped anchor me, then asked, "Tell us about this doctor."

Good. I could focus on that. "He must have heard us as he came down a long pa.s.sage with a flashlight."

Oh, please, don't let him have hurt Van.

"And?" Bran cajoled.

I raised my eyes to him, knowing I'd failed and left Van at the mercy of s.a.d.i.s.ts. "Van tried to distract him while I cloaked myself. But he was a Were and could scent me."

"Not good," Willie murmured, clutching the gla.s.s he held as if he'd been there. "Did he know you were there?"

"At first no." Then stupid me had to all but shout, look over here. "But at the end he did. "

My words must have trailed off as Francois nudged my shoulder. "Then what happened?"

I shook my head, paying for it even as I tried to recreate the last seconds. "Then I was shot back through the tunnel and ended up here."

Everyone's eyes s.h.i.+fted toward Bran.

"What did you do?"

He stood up, breaking the tentative bond between us. He raked one hand through his hair then straightened his shoulders. "I called you back."

"What?" I jumped to my feet. Anger pounded through me. "What was the point of my looking for Van if you were going to yank me out before I could accomplish anything?"

He turned, towering over me even with my spiked shoes on, his anger bubbling below the surface, his hands clenched. But when he spoke his words were like a dash of ice water. "The sh.e.l.l of your body was going into cardiac arrest here. You wouldn't have done your brother much good dead."

He was right. But so was I. "All I needed was a few more minutes. I could have gotten the keys from the doctor. Freed Van."

He stepped closer, his eyes glacial. "You didn't have a few minutes."

I leaned into him almost nose to nose. Bran the protector warlock had overstepped his bounds. Way overstepped them and now Van could die. "My spell. My call."

He barked a laugh and stepped back. Francois grabbed my arm as I wanted to close the gap, but the didi-s.h.i.+fter hadn't stopped my mouth. "I used blood magic because you said it was the only way. And you screwed with the spell. Screwed with me."

Bran as a warlock understood loud and clear what I was saying. He couldn't have it both ways. He couldn't tell me I was a powerful witch and then not trust that I could use that power.

"If the tables were turned," I said between gritted teeth, "If I cut off your magic and someone died because of it, you'd feel the exact same way."

He turned then, looked me square in the eye. "You did. The street fight two days ago."

A blow to the head couldn't have been more lethal.

I'd told him why I'd done what I had done. I thought he understood, may not have liked it but at least he knew I hadn't sucked his powers because I didn't trust him. And that's what it always came down to between us. Trust.

Francois stepped in, trying to douse the emotion crackling between Bran and me. "Alex, did you find out anything about where Van was? The building? A smell, near water or out in the countryside? Something."

I shook my head, frustration zapping the last of my energy. "Nothing." I wanted to kick something, anything, including me. I'd been that close to helping Van but because of macho Alpha warlock I had zip.

A tight smile curved Bran's lips as he stepped toward me.

I braced, expecting the worst, when he leaned forward and slid one hand into my back pocket.

I'd like to say that his being so close, his touching me, meant nothing, but it threw me for such a loop-de-loop I stood there like a ninny with my mouth open until he stepped back, revealing something in his palm.

"What is it?" Willie asked, saving me the trouble as I focused on taking my next breath. I hated that Bran had that effect on me and I hated even more that there didn't seem to be a d.a.m.n thing I could do about it.

"A pa.s.sive GPS tracking device," Francois answered, giving me an appraising look, as if he was a.s.sessing my reaction.

I didn't have a reaction because I was swimming through a fog of thoughts. When? How? And the big one, why?

Bran seemed to know what I wanted to ask but couldn't. "As a backup I slipped this into Alex's pocket before she cast her spell. It'll give us a general area where she was."

He'd expected me to fail from the beginning. The coward didn't even have enough courage to ask me to carry the tracker. No, he slipped it into my pants pocket while he distracted me.

Betrayal, just as swift and sharp as when I found out my father was on the Council of Seven, the ones who let me go to prison.

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d. The rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

CHAPTER 55.

The only thing still holding Van upright were the chains biting into him. But he no longer cared. Alex was gone. She'd gotten out and was safe. He slumped against the bonds and released a deep breath.

Jean-Claude still didn't know what had happened. After Alex's catch of breath the Were had rushed to the corner, kicking straw right and left. Then he'd punched speed dial on his cell phone, speaking in French.

Van knew enough to catch most of the words even spoken in agitation. With his s.h.i.+fter ability he could hear a male's voice on the other end.

"Someone was here," Jean-Claude's voice resonated with breathlessness and strain.

"Did you stop them?"

"No. I never saw them."

"Explain."

Jean-Claude paced around the cell as he recounted what had happened.

"So you smelled someone?"

"Oui," he barked, "But there was n.o.body in the cell."

"The witch?"

Van stilled. They had to know about Alex if the voice on the other end of the line reached that conclusion so quickly. But why? What did Alex have to do with this mess?

"It might have been." Jean-Claude sounded less sure, as if he was grasping for straws.

"Bonne. Then our plan is working. Till tomorrow."

Jean-Claude didn't have a chance to say more as the other hung up.

What plan? How was Alex involved? Van pulled against his chains.

The doctor turned back to look at him, his expression a mixture of pity and greed.

"Why?" Van found himself whispering around lips so dry they cracked and bled. "Why?"

There was a wealth of rage behind that single word. Why had they chosen Van? Why were they doing what they were doing? What was their goal? Why involve his father? And Alex, especially Alex. His childhood spent watching out for her was all for naught. She was in Paris for him, he knew it now and regretted it to the marrow of his bones. It's not what he wanted. Or ever dreamed could happen. Now, if he didn't figure out what was going down, and find a way to stop it, Alex was going to suffer.

"Why?" the doctor repeated, as if chewing on an old bone. "Money." He looked at Van as one would regard a father confessor. "It always comes down to two things. Money and power. They want the power, but for me, it was just the money."

Van rattled his head, grappling with the ba.n.a.lity of this man's words. The doctor was willing to sacrifice Van, and Alex, and who knew who else, maybe his father, for money?

"Oui, it is trivial is it not, Monsieur," Jean-Claude continued as if they were sitting on barstools, shooting the breeze. "I'm a gambler." He coughed a small, bitter laugh. "Alas not a good one. But there is always that next roll of the dice, next turn of the card and I knew." He clenched his hands in a jerky movement. "I knew I'd come out on top."

He looked beyond Van, seeing something not limited by the stone walls and bars surrounding them. "I lost my wife. My two sons. My reputation, but I did not stop."

His weary eyes turned toward Van before glancing at his palms now spread before him. "I'm a healer and yet I could do nothing against this disease." he paused, then continued, "When they found me I was seven-hundred fifty thousand Euros in debt."

Van flinched. This guy wasn't talking chump change. That was close to a million in US dollars. No shylock would continue to lend money to someone that far out on a limb. Even through the haze of his brain Van was listening to what wasn't being said. Somebody had set up the doctor, knowing far in advance how far to string the Were along until he was solidly hooked. Van swallowed around the anger singeing him and finally managed another syllable. "Who?"

Jean-Claude shook his head, stepping closer to open Van's eyelids and check his pulse, the gestures so automatic Van wondered if the doctor even knew he did them. "They have been very careful to hide their ident.i.ties from you, have they not," he murmured. "Though why it should matter anymore, with what they have planned."

Van could feel his adrenaline kickstart and knew his pulse had jumped. The doctor had to know too, but still Van pushed. He was glad the doctor was so close because Van could barely mutter. "Who?"

"I doubt it matters now. But one should know who executes him should he not?" The doctor looked into Van's eyes. "It is the human thing to do though neither of us can claim humanity."

The doctor lapsed into silence long enough Van thought he had forgotten Van's question. So he pulled at his chains.

The doctor stirred. "Oui. It is only right." He stepped back before speaking again. "The man who comes with me. The one with the drug. He is Delmore Vaverek."

That made so much clear. The man Van had been seeking when he'd been taken, all those weeks ago.

"Ah, I see you know the name." The doctor c.o.c.ked his head. "He is as you Americans say a right old b.a.s.t.a.r.d." His voice trailed off as he turned toward the cell door.

Van thought the older man was through but the doctor paused after locking the cell door behind him. He rested both hands on the bars as if he were the one imprisoned and not Van. "Did you know there was one behind Monsieur Vaverek?"

Van raised his head. There always was another, but he hadn't expected to learn who it was. Vaverek was a dead man for what he'd done so far, but if there was another, one keeping his hands clean, then he too would pay.

"Oh, oui. One who makes that Were seem benign." Jean-Claude uttered a rusty chuckle that held no mirth. "The other. He is le diable. The devil incarnate."

He started walking away but Van needed to know. He rumbled his chains, shouting out a weak, "Who?"

"The other?" The doctor paused, but did not turn around. "He's called Byrne. Pdraig Byrne. And if you ever cross paths with him run the other way. Run fast and run far."

CHAPTER 56.

I sat on that stupid couch in that stupid room, my arms wrapped around myself as if that could keep me from bleeding from the inside out. How could I have been such a fool to trust Bran? I'd walked wide-eyed into his plan to use black magic, knowing full well how it was the last thing I wanted to do. He wasn't the one paying the consequences as tremors rocked me. All magic exerted a price, and I doubted feeling gut sick and rattled was going to be the price. More like a down payment.

Willie stood over by Bran who was inserting his nifty little tracking device into a laptop computer. The rational part of me said thank the Spirits we ended up with something. The irrational part wanted to scream and howl.

Francois was once again sitting beside me so close our shoulders were rubbing. He must have guessed at the state I was in when I hadn't told him to find somewhere else in that cavernous room to hunker down. Right now that would take too much energy. Energy I no longer had.

He leaned close to me and whispered. "Sometimes he can be a right blinkered a.r.s.e."