Witch Fire by Anya Bast

Author:Anya Bast
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: American Light Romantic Fiction, Romance - Paranormal, other prose & writers, Magic, Novels, Romance: Modern, paranormal, Romance - General, General, Romance, Fantasy, Warlocks, Witches, Romance & Sagas, Fiction, Science Fiction And Fantasy, Love stories, Fiction - Romance
Published: 2009-04-23T21:49:24+00:00

THIRTEEN

MIRA AWOKE TO THE LOW SOUND OF YOICES AND the motion of a vehicle. Her body thrummed with pain, especially where her hair had been ripped from her head. Her chest hurt too. Every time she drew a breath, it burned.

Merely opening her eyes ached, so she closed them again after glimpsing the interior of what appeared to be a limo. There were others in the car, but she could sense Jack next to her and decided she was safe. Physical discomfort precluded any further musing on the subject of her personal security.

Strong hands eased her up and cradled her against a chest. She winced at the movement. "Jack?" she murmured. She knew the feel of those hands, that chest.

"It's me. It's okay," he whispered. He brushed the hair away from her forehead. "You keep passing out on me. We have to figure out how to keep you from doing that.”

"Tell her to stop rupturing her magick. That'll help," said a woman from somewhere in the interior of the automobile.

Jack placed his palm over Mira's forehead. The skin he touched grew warmer. The pain slowly leaked away. "Ingrid," he sighed, "if your men had been there a little sooner, she would not have been forced to do what she did. You know Thomas isn't going to be very happy about this mess." He placed a hand between her breasts, and the pain eased there as well.

"Not even Thomas foresaw the Duskoff being able to crack those wards. It must have been their kidnapped air witch who tipped them off to the move. They pulled out all the stops to break in before you left for the airport. Crane wants her badly.”

"I'm not talking about the break-in. I'm talking about your men's inability to reach us in time." Jack's voice trembled with threat, and his body grew noticeably warmer with his carefully restrained anger. "If Mira hadn't pulled that magick, I could be dead and she might be gone.”

Ingrid, whoever she was, fell silent, clearly chastened.

The pain in Mira's head and body receded enough for her to be able to function, thanks to Jack. She opened her eyes groggily and struggled to sit up. Jack was bruised and battered. A bit of dried blood marked his forehead and he held his right hand as though it hurt.

The woman, Ingrid, was slim and dressed in a charcoal gray suit and sensible heels. Her ankles were crossed primly and a pair of stylish black glasses teetered on her heart-shaped face. Mira couldn't tell how long her blonde hair was since it was pulled up severely in a French twist. She would've been pretty were it not for her scowl.

Two men sat on either side of Ingrid, both hunky and wearing black. What was the deal with these guys in black? Mira recognized them as two of the men who'd burst into the apartment right after—

She put a hand to her temple, remembering. "I killed them, didn't I?”

Jack put his arm around her shoulders. "Mira—”

"Wait a minute.

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