Page 20 of Charmed

"He's shown more courage in a day than you have in three centuries." She rocked on her heels, then bounced on her toes, obviously itching for a fight. "Keep underestimating him, though. I'll only laugh harder when we take you out of commission."

Riley could do little else but gawk at her, at this ferocious female afraid of nothing and who'd just defended him with a conviction he'd never encountered. Certainly not directed his way. He'd chalk it up to trash talk on her part, but he got the distinct impression she believed what she'd said. She'd claimed something similar back in her workshop this morning.

The Minister laughed without mirth. "It's you heathens who'll roast in hell. I will end you." He straightened in nonchalance. "Not tonight, however."

She glared at him with skepticism. "Of course not. Your pathetic ass needs us to break the curse first."

Riley's respect for her just amped fifty notches. They'd been going off the theory Uncle Greg hadn't attempted to kill Kaida until after she completed her tasks because he'd wanted her to finish. That hadn't been a confirmed hypothesis, but it seemed the most rational. Fiona was goading him into revealing a tactic so they could gain info.

Lord, she was something.

"I'm tempted to shut that vulgar mouth of yours permantly. Unlike you, witch, I can control myself, bide my time." The Minster slid his gaze over her in one fell swoop, and even Riley felt dirty afterward. "Immortality was a burden worth bearing if it meant eradicating you sorcerers before the curse could be broken. But I changed my mind. God Almighty will reward me in His glory once my journey is complete."

Fiona sighed, pity heavy on the undercurrent. "Someone's not very good at navigation. Where you'll wind up is much farther south. Wear sunscreen. I suggest SPF nine-million."

"Let's see how arrogant you are after my gift." He pulled a vial no larger than a flash drive from his pocket and held it up between two fingers.

Riley's gut bottomed out. "What is that?" He braced his arm across her chest and urged her behind him. But the damn stubborn woman shot right back to his side.

In answer, the Minister took two steps away and threw the vial at their feet.

Glass shattered and a plume of green smoke billowed. Fiona stared at the cloud as it swirled. Rose. Confusion twisted her mouth a fragmented second, then she dropped to the ground in a boneless heap.

"No." Oh God. Riley crouched beside her and cupped her face. Her skin was cold as stone and paler than snow. "What did you do to her?" he roared.

Smug, the Minister said nothing.

Riley refocused on her, giving her a little shake. Her eyes didn't open and her chest barely moved respirations. "Fiona?" Terror clawed up his throat and raked his esophagus. "Fi, babe. Wake up. Come on."

Footsteps pounded, the sound growing fainter.

He whipped around, keeping one hand on her collarbone, only to find the bastard had taken off. His shadowed form disappeared into the trees. Riley scanned the woods, the clearing, his ears tuned, but no noises emerged. Nothing.

Helplessly, he looked at her still form. Worry cranked and ate at his stomach lining. "I'm going to get you some help, babe. I promise. We'll fix this. Stay with me, Fi, okay?"

An arm under her legs, another behind her back, he lifted her and cradled her to his chest. She didn't stir in the slightest. Tears burned his eyes, stung his sinuses. Panic took physical form behind his ribcage as he ran toward the sisters' house, dodging trees. By the time he broke through the canopy and rounded the intricate garden maze, his thighs were straining.

"Tristan! Ceara!" He darted across the front yard and up the porch steps of the yellow Victorian. "Ceara!" Not daring to set Fiona down, he kicked in the door. "Ceara!"

It swung wide and Ceara's blue eyes bulged from her place in the living room. "What happened?"

"The Minister was waiting for us in the forest." Riley bolted past her and Tristan toward the couch, setting Fiona on the cushions. Dim lamps and firelight from the giant stone hearth cast the room in golden hues, but she was too pale even in the warm glow. He knelt on the decorative rug covering the hardwood floor and brushed the strands from her face. "He broke some kind of bottle at her feet and she collapsed."

Tristan pulled a cell from his pocket, pacing with the phone to his ear. "Get over to the sisters' house. Fiona was attacked in the woods." He paused, looking at her motionless on the sofa. "I don't know, but take the car and use caution." Disconnecting, he dropped the cell on the walnut coffee table between the couches that faced one another. "Brady and Kaida are on the way."

Ceara bent over her sister and cradled her cheek. "She's freezing."

Mara rushed down the grand mahogany stairs, tightening her robe belt. Before she could ask, Tristan filled her in on what happened.

Refusing to sever contact, Riley kept Fiona's hand clasped in his. Her dark hair fanned her head and her features were smooth as she lay unresponsive. The woman who never quit moving, fighting, taunting, arguing, or teasing, and she was as still as death. He couldn't breathe through the panic.

"Do something." His chest hitched. "Please, do something."

Chapter Six

The murmur of voices stirred in Fiona's ears. So faraway. Distant. As if they were conversing underwater. She tried to talk, to move, but she couldn't.

What the hell was happening?

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