Phantom Wolf pf-2 Page 3

  Shay felt a flash of gratitude. “Yup.” Renegade could be a bastard, but he was cool when it came down to it.

  Shay stalked toward the room’s front and stood against the wall, folding his arms. He couldn’t get involved, but the vulnerable shadows beneath her blue eyes punched his gut.

  The heels of Rogers’s polished black shoes clicked across the linoleum. In his dark gray suit, with silver edging his short hair, the senator looked urbane and handsome. But beneath the charming smile lurked something nasty, like an oil slick.

  “Now, Miss Denning.” Rogers took a seat behind the desk, steepling his fingers. “You kept asserting your innocence before military authorities and the FBI. Without evidence to hold you, they released you.”

  Rogers’s smile darkened. “Under human law, you are free to go. But Mage law is not so liberal. As Chief Elder on the Council of Mages, I ask you now, who gave the orders to steal my son?”

  Kelly rubbed the heel of her hand against her cheek. “I’m innocent. Sight Finders helps Mage offspring. We’re the only ones protecting the children of both Elemental and Arcane Mages.”

  “Don’t play the naive card with me, Denning. You were not imprisoned with Billy when the SEALs rescued him. You were lounging by the pool.”

  “Billy will tell you—I was rescuing him.”

  “He’s too traumatized to speak.” Rogers waved a hand. “Where is the nanny who took him? Was she working for you?”

  “Dead,” Curt said, his gray gaze steely. “My men killed the vamps and both Mage guards on the island. When the Mages died, they assumed their original forms. One was the nanny.”

  “So she was working for you.” Rogers turned his attention back to Kelly.

  Curt and Shay exchanged glances. No words needed. Shay could read his CO’s mind. The powerful Primary Mage had little tolerance for a slick politician with a hell-bent agenda.

  What an asshole.

  “Your organization is a front for stealing Elemental children to drain their magick and enrich your own powers. You would have killed my son had you the chance!”

  “Never! I was protecting him.”

  “Where did you get the knowledge of siphoning Elemental magick? The dark spell books were all destroyed.”

  Kelly rolled her eyes. “Now who’s naive? Knowledge isn’t contained by a book. Ever hear of our oral history?”

  Shadows darkened her face. “This goes a lot deeper than you realize. The Arcanes behind Billy’s kidnapping want to kill Phantom Elementals to take over their extraordinary powers and duplicate them. They’re going to create a Dark Lord.”

  A few harsh intakes of breath from all the Mages. Alarm filled Shay. Hell, she had to be wrong.

  Curt gave her the penetrating look he used to interrogate tangos, but it looked more thoughtful than menacing. “There hasn’t been a Dark Lord in three hundred years.”

  Rogers looked uneasy and then scoffed. “We have kept close watch over every Arcane through a regular sweep of ID cards. Until now, not one single Arcane has stolen Elemental magick.”

  Shay shifted uncomfortably. Curt glanced at him. “You’re wrong, Senator. There was one twelve years ago. We have no proof, though. He vanished off the radar.”

  A small, cruel smile played on the Mage’s lips. “I forgot. Your father, Denning. You’re just like him.”

  “I am not my father,” Kelly said, fire flashing in her eyes. “I save children. I’m about justice, unlike you. Just because you’re Elementals doesn’t make you better than me. Are you going to listen to me, you pigheaded fool? The real threat is still out there!”

  “Really, Robert. Are you going to let her talk to you like that?” Mrs. Rogers studied a manicured nail.

  Kelly gazed at Rogers without fear. Shay felt a surge of admiration. Same Kelly. Always standing her ground.

  Rogers raised his hands, power humming in the room. “I will tolerate no disrespect. Especially not from an Arcane. You will give me answers.”

  The senator sent the energy ball sailing toward Kelly. As it struck her, she cried out and flew backward, hitting the wall.

  Shay lost it. All his male protective instincts surged. Senator or not, Rogers could not treat a woman that way. You try talking without a tongue, you bastard...

  As Shay lunged forward, ready to leap over the desk, Curt reached out an arm and yanked him back. Waves of calming magick pulsed from the Mage. “Steady, Shay. Take it easy,” his CO murmured. “Not here. Not now.”

  Releasing Shay, Curt scowled at the senator. “I told you, interrogation by the rules. One more violation and I’ll toss you out on your ass myself.”

  Shay struggled to keep a civil tone. “Since when did we allow torture? We’re better than that.”

  “They’re both right. Do that again, Robert, and you’re leaving the base,” Admiral Byrne said quietly.

  Rogers laughed. “You can’t do that. I’m a U.S. senator who sits on the Armed Services Committee. I’ll cut the funding to your precious team of navy SEALs.”

  Byrne’s mouth twisted. “Don’t get into a pissing contest with me, son. You’ll lose. I’m fifteen hundred years old and can reduce you to ashes before you can say ‘defense budget.’”

  Ignoring them both, Shay crouched down by Kelly, who rubbed her side where the energy bolt had hit. A small, charred hole showed in the yellow print fabric.

  Their eyes met. A jolt went through him at the intense blueness he saw in her eyes. Shay reached out a hand, clasped hers. An internal shudder raced through him. So warm and soft.

  Up close, she smelled great, her delicate floral scent cutting through the ozone stench of energy Rogers had tossed at her.

  Shay cleared his throat. “You okay?”

  As he helped her stand, she gave a rueful smile.

  “I’m fine. That jolt works better than a shot of espresso. Maybe I can hire him to roust me out of bed in the morning.”

  Still the same Kelly, putting up a brave front. Shay studied her face. A bruise shadowed one perfect cheekbone. He touched it and she winced. His temper began to rise.

  Those blue eyes, once clear and sparkling as a summer sky, clouded with worry as she caught his expression.

  “I’m fine. I mean it. Thanks, Sam,” she said softly.

  She brushed off her jeans, nodded at the gray folding chair. “By the way, need that? Is it special? Other than for serving as the hot seat for suspects?”

  “It’s just a chair,” Shay told her, puzzled.

  “Okay. Let me show you something, Senator.”

  Digging into her jeans pocket, Kelly retrieved a silver necklace and draped it around her neck. She closed her eyes and extended her slim arms skyward. “Earth, earth, earth, water, water, water, fire, fire, fire, air, air, air.”

  Shay’s blood ran cold. The ancient chanting spell used by Arcanes to gather power from the elements. But they needed a secondary source to properly channel the power, such as an enchanted staff, a wand or an amulet, and all those had been banned....

  The three swirls on the pendant around Kelly’s neck glowed. White light suffused her body, the energy pulsing steadily. Then she opened her eyes and flung out her hands toward the chair.

  KA-POW!

  The chair was a mangled, crumpled mess of metal. The little secretary taking notes gasped and stared at Kelly, who calmly regarded Rogers.

  “I can take care of myself. I chose not to attack you in return. You’re not dealing with a weak Arcane you can bully like you’ve bullied others.”

  Rogers sputtered as his wife gasped.

  “Where the hell did you get that power?” Rogers demanded. “Did you kill other Elemental children?”

  “If I had, would I allow you to hold me prisoner? My powers come from another source, a source for good.”

  Awareness shone in the senator’s eyes. “A triskele. No Arcane has one.” He approached Kelly and seized the pendant. It sizzled, and he jumped back with a yelp.

  “I put a spell on it so the humans c
ouldn’t find it when they searched me. Oh, and enchanted it so any Mage trying to steal it will get burned.” Kelly gave a serene smile. “Oops. Forgot to mention that little fact.”

  Blood drained from Shay’s face. The triskele... Damn. She still had the pendant he’d given her. Now she’d learned to use it as a weapon.

  If the council found out Shay had illegally helped an Arcane... My ass is toast, he thought grimly.

  “Do you know who I am? I’m a U.S. senator and an Elder on the Council of Mages.” A vein throbbed in Rogers’s temple.

  “I know who you are. You’re Billy’s father,” Kelly said quietly.

  Silence draped the room.

  “He’s a very brave little boy. He needs you.”

  Rogers swept his gaze around the room. Looking for support, maybe? None came from the grim-faced SEALs, the four-star Admiral Byrne or the silent Curt.

  His wife sighed. “Are we done yet, Robert? I have a hair appointment and we have the Society of the Arts gala tonight. This visit wasn’t on your schedule, and it’s taking far too long.”

  Shay focused on Kelly and saw that her elegant, long fingers were rubbing against her torn and ragged jeans. She did that to hide hands shaking in fear.

  She’d done it the first night they’d made love, until desire surfaced and then...

  Damn, someone had to stand up for Kelly, and no one around here seemed willing. He faced the senator. “You have no right to hold her. Under Mage law, she’s legally free within twenty-four hours, unless you can prove she’s a direct threat to another Mage. And there is no hard evidence she hurt anyone, including your son.”

  He leveled a look at the older Mage. “Until then, she walks.”

  A muscle ticked in the senator’s jaw. “You’re a soldier, Chief Petty Officer Shaymore. Not a policy maker. Stay out of this.”

  “I’m a Phantom Elemental Mage whose family has held a seat on the council for the past five hundred years. And still holds one.” Shay got in the man’s face. “I’m not staying out.”

  Tension bristled in the air as Rogers clenched his jaw. Finally he gave a gruff nod. “We’ll call it even, Chief, because you saved my son’s life. But interfere again and I’ll be forced to use my powers against you.”

  Try it, he thought grimly. The senator had no idea of the full extent of Shay’s magick. I’ll send you flying into next week. Put that on your schedule, you bastard.

  Kelly flashed him a grateful smile. Even with her long hair tangled, clothing messed and dirt on her face, she was lovely.

  The senator turned to Admiral Byrne. “Tag her with the new GPS security chip, the one you use for your SEALs. She’s too dangerous to release to an unsuspecting public.”

  “Take her to the infirmary,” Byrne told Sully.

  “No.” Rogers gave a nasty smile. “I want to see it for myself. Do it here.”

  Shay’s anger rose again. But he kept silent as his teammate left and returned with the injection gun. Sully cleared his throat.

  “Um, I’m sorry, but I insert this in your hip.”

  Color flushed her face, but she unzipped her jeans and pulled them down her right hip. Shay couldn’t help looking at the curve of her hip, the mint-green panties she wore with tiny pink roses embroidered on the waistband. She stared straight ahead, not wincing as Sully injected the miniature device.

  Then her gaze met his, and he saw the anger dancing in her eyes. Anger, not humiliation, as she zipped up her jeans.

  “New security chip? This something you’re tagging all my people with, Senator, so you can watch our movements? The ID card isn’t sufficient enough?”

  “Your people are like cows. Branding keeps all the strays in line.” Rogers gave her a cold, hard stare. “As Elder on the council, I order you to remain in your home. If you leave the country, you will be arrested and interned.”

  When the senator, his wife and his assistant left with the admiral, Curt rubbed the back of his neck. “Miss Denning, I’ll drive you to the airport. You have a reservation on the eight-o’clock flight, courtesy of our esteemed council.”

  The words esteemed council were followed by a derisive snort.

  Soft with longing, Kelly’s gaze centered on Shay. She stood straight and tall, a hint of pride in those slender shoulders. “It’s not necessary, but thank you, Lieutenant Commander Curtis.”

  “It’s necessary,” Curt said.

  Kelly turned to Shay. Her soft pink mouth parted. She blinked back moisture gathering in her clear blue eyes.

  “Sam, I’m sorry...about everything.”

  A wave of emotion pushed at him. If only they could turn back time and go back to how things had once been. If only her father had not killed his family...

  Shay rubbed his chest, feeling his heart constrict. I don’t know who you are anymore, Kelly.

  A whistle from behind caught his attention. Renegade jerked a thumb toward the door. “Yo, Shay. Bunch of us are grabbing a few beers at the Dive Bar. Ya in?”

  Drinks. With his teammates, friends. Even friends who shifted into wolves and bit were safe and familiar. Comfortable and predictable. Not a woman who spun him around into emotional knots, who looked at him sadly, as if he were the center of her universe and that particular universe had shattered. Shay gave Renegade a rough nod.

  When he turned around, Kelly was gone.

  Chapter 3

  Kelly had to find Sam. This wasn’t over.

  In a dingy bathroom, she splashed water over her face to fight fatigue. Forty-eight hours without sleep and only an energy bar for food. After a support staff member had dropped her off at the airport, she’d hopped on a bus and gotten off at the nearest gas station.

  She tried to clean her dirty clothing, blotting the worst of it with brown paper towels. Finally she gave up.

  Not winning any beauty contests tonight, for sure. That wasn’t important. Getting Sam to listen to her, and believe her, mattered most.

  Beneath the distrust and doubt in his hazel eyes, she’d seen taut sexual awareness. Old feelings were still there. Even though he believed her father responsible for the deadly fire, she knew.

  Cedric Denning couldn’t shoot a bolt of current if a 220 line fell on him. Her father was innocent. She knew it.

  Rubbing her palms against her jeans, she banished the past. It was too late for Sam’s little brother. Others needed her help.

  Before being escorted out, she’d overheard the SEALs say they were going to the Dive Bar. Kelly counted her money and called for a taxi.

  The first driver refused. He’d seen her on television tonight when the newscasters reported her arrest in conjunction with the kidnapping of Senator Rogers’s son. Two taxis later, she finally found a driver willing to give her a ride, for double the money. But he seemed confused. He didn’t know any bar named the Dive Bar. Never heard of it. Finally she had him drive up and down roads near the base.

  Night settled over the coastal town before she saw the flickering sign in the distance.

  “There it is!” She gestured to the sign.

  The driver snorted. “That’s no bar. That’s an old bait shop. Been closed for years.”

  Kelly counted the bills, gave them to him and then climbed out. Driver must be confused. Plain as day, the blue neon sign boasted the Dive Bar.

  Well, at least it wasn’t a four-star gourmet restaurant. Here, with her dingy clothing, she might fit in. Noise throbbed from inside, the pulsing beat of loud music, the cacophony of conversation and laughter.

  Gathering her courage, she pulled open the door. An old-fashioned jukebox warbled a country-Western tune as two men played pool at the room’s far end. Squinting in the dim light, she let the door shut behind her. And then, as she watched a customer wave a hand and a bottle floated toward him, the realization hit her.

  Every single person inside was a paranorm.

  No wonder the cabdriver had never heard of it. The bar must have a magick shield around it to dissuade humans.

  Worn buoys
hung from the ceiling next to fishnets and two large plastic sharks. Old dive masks adorned one wall. It was a seedy, run-down and funky bar, the type she usually enjoyed.

  People turned to examine the new arrival. And then all conversation ground to a halt. The jukebox shut off abruptly.

  Uh-oh. Not exactly a welcoming crowd.

  Silence descended, thick as morning fog. Even the bartender washing beer mugs in the sudsy sink stopped his work.

  She swallowed hard, wiped her palms against her jeans and then finally placed her hands on the counter. A SEAL she recognized from the compound flicked a hand, the gesture filled with contempt. A half-filled mug of beer exploded, showering her blouse in suds and shards of glass. Kelly jumped. She brushed off her shirt.

  “I guess happy hour is over,” she said. “Because it looks like the drink’s on me.”

  More silence, broken suddenly by a deep male laugh, the rich timbre rubbing against her like soft fur.

  Sam.

  As the conversation gradually resumed, and the jukebox kicked in, she stayed still, gauging her former lover.

  He sat in the middle of the circular bar, flanked by the SEALs who’d been in the room as Rogers questioned her. A dark blue T-shirt stretched over his muscular chest, rode tight against his well-defined biceps. A hank of sandy-brown hair hung over his forehead. His mouth was set in a firm line.

  Seeing him made her blood tingle and her heart race in anticipation. Breath caught in her throat. He was more wiry than muscular, with a deadly edge. The shadow of boyhood was gone, replaced by a virile man.

  A pretty blonde in a red dress edged close. Sam gave a charming smile and began flirting. Kelly’s heart sank to her stomach. Always the womanizer, until the time they’d become lovers. Kelly silently pleaded for him to look at her. Finally he glanced over. But only cold speculation showed on his handsome face.

  She rubbed her hands again, wishing for a change of clothing, a change of scenery. Anything but this cool hostility. But Sam was her only hope. She needed his help to stop the rogue Arcane Mages before they stole more children—and this time killed them.