Russell threw a grin over the top of her head. "I've got the feeling she's not exactly sure of you yet, my friend," Doyle snorted. "Ain't that the truth."
Though his words were aimed at his friend, his gaze found hers. For the first time she saw that he was annoyed by her refusal to trust him completely. Even hurt by it. She looked away, troubled by the thought, and brushed past the big vampire. The office beyond was a mess—desks littered with paperwork and files, bins overflowing with takeaway containers, bookcase lined with empty beer cans and stained coffee cups.
"You've been in Australia how long?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she glanced around.
"A week," Russell said, bolting the door shut after them. "Give or take a day."
She shook her head in amazement. They'd made this much mess in a week? "Another week here and this place won't be livable."
Russell shrugged. "Another week and hopefully we'll all be out of here."
His words reminded her of just how little time she had with Doyle. She bit her lip, blinking rapidly. Yet she refused to think about what such a reaction might mean. If she did, she'd have to admit what she felt, and she was far from ready for that.
Doyle touched her back, guiding her toward another doorway. "The boss in the interview room, Russ?"
"Yeah, tending to Trina."
Doyle opened the second door and ushered her through. This room was shadowed, the only light provided by several flickering candles. But it was cleaner than the first and smelled of lime and lemongrass rather than old burgers. Trina was lying unmoving on the large table that dominated the center of the room. Maybe she'd passed out.
Camille was standing next to Trina, bandaging her arm. "That headache still bad?" she said, without looking up.
"Yeah." Kirby walked around the other side of the table. Trina's skin was almost translucent, her gray eyes closed. Even so, she looked nothing like the child Kirby had seen briefly in her vision. Her hair was blonde, and both the shape of her eyes and nose had been altered. Plastic surgery, obviously. They could have passed each other on the street and never known each other. "She going to be all right?"
Camille nodded. "Lost some blood, but I've given her some herbs to help with that. She's lucky, because the manarei's claws didn't hit anything vital."
"What are you going to do with her now?"
"Keep her safe from the murdering witch, obviously." Camille finished bandaging then stood upright, pressing her hands against her back and stretching. Bones cracked into the silence. "Kirby, you stay here and watch the girl, and I'll go find you some herbs for that headache. Doyle, you come with me. I need to talk to you."
The old woman whirled and departed. Kirby raised her eyebrows. "She always like that?"
"Abrupt and full of energy, you mean?" A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes again. "No. You've hit her on a mellow day. Usually, she's much, much worse." He hesitated. "Just call if you need anything. I'll be in the next room."
She nodded and watched him walk away. He left the door slightly ajar, and she wondered why he seemed so reluctant to leave her alone. Surely the witch wouldn't get them here, in a room eight stories up, with no windows and only one exit. A chill ran through her. Anyone who could use magic to control and transport the manarei probably wasn't going to be daunted by lack of entry points.
She pulled a chair close to the table and sat down. Trina was beginning to stir, her eyes moving under her closed lids, and hands twitching. Dreaming… or remembering?
She crossed her arms and waited. Time ticked slowly by. The candles flickered and danced, casting warm shadows across the walls. In her mind's eye, they became ghostly figures dancing to some unknown beat, heralding in darkness and death. Her death, if she wasn't very careful.
She rubbed a hand across her eyes, trying to shake the growing sense of dread. It was just tiredness, just imagination, nothing more.
"You," a voice said into the silence.
She started and opened her eyes. Trina was staring at her, eyes wide and filled with fear.
"You're okay," she said, forcing a calmness into her voice that she certainly didn't feel. "You're with friends."
She might never have even spoken, for all the notice Trina seemed to take.
"I know you," Trina said, voice low but edged with hysteria. "You… you killed Felicity Barnes!"
Chapter Fourteen
"What's the problem?" Doyle asked, dropping down onto the chair behind Russell's desk.
Camille propped a hip on the edge of the other desk, her expression grim. "We've been doing some research into this elemental circle of Kirby's."
He accepted the coffee Russell offered with a grunt of thanks and tried to ignore the niggle of fear in his gut. "And?"
"According to legend, the circle was one of the most powerful forces of nature to evolve during the dawn of time. It's said that the gods themselves split the force into five elements, to protect the earth and all its species. It's also said that if the elements were ever rejoined as one that the Earth itself would be torn apart."
He frowned. "If any of that were true, we'd all be dead, because Kirby apparently did join the circle when she was eleven. All it did was put a monster who deserved death into a wheelchair."
"Not exactly true." Russell tossed a folder across to him. "I've been digging around in old newspaper articles. Eighteen years ago a very centralized quake hit Melbourne. It happened in the dead of night, in the midst of a freak storm, and the only place to be hit was a certain government facility caring for unwanted teenagers. One building was partially destroyed, and a child was killed. Several other children were injured, as well as a nurse and a caretaker who were in the building at the time."
He opened the folder and flipped through the reports. There were images of destruction and terrified children, but Kirby wasn't among them, though why he thought he would recognize her he wasn't entirely sure. He dropped the folder back onto the desk.
"So, what you're saying is that she caused this quake by forming the circle?"
Camille nodded. "But because she was one of five, the power was, in a sense, muted—or at least controlled. But imagine that power all placed in one body."
"It would be damn near unstoppable," Russell intoned. "And that's what we're facing, buddy boy."
"Not yet, we're not. Kirby and Trina are still alive." And would remain that way, no matter what the cost—or what he had to give up.
"Yes," Camille agreed. "But two others are dead, their abilities sucked into the soul of another. I fear our killer may be the point representing strength. It would explain her ability to summon and control two pairs of manarei as well as the zombies. No witch, light or dark, could perform spells that strong so close together without suffering some side effects."
He rubbed a hand across his eyes. There might have been three of them, but the odds, it seemed, where decidedly on evil's side. "Have we any idea what abilities she's stolen?"
"I did a reading on Trina. She's earth, and it would have been her power that caused the quake. If Kirby is air, that leaves fire and water."
"She tried lashing me with fire when she locked me in that water tank," he murmured. "So she's definitely got that one. What power does water give her?"
Camille shrugged. "She could call in ice and freeze. She could change the course of any nearby water."
"And Kirby? Can she do anything more than call lightning to her fingers?" Because if she couldn't, she was seriously outgunned.
"Given she's air, she should also be able to control the wind. But if she's never called it, it might not be her strongest ability."
"Helen talked to the wind," he murmured thoughtfully. "Is that usual for storm witches?"