Please?

Tansy stared at him stupidly. This sounded nothing like the proud Drake she once knew. She’d never once heard him use the words please or sorry. With an effort, she gathered her scattered wits. Clearly, his daughter mattered a great deal to him.

“I really am busy,” she explained. “I told you the truth.”

His chin jutted forward, a stubborn gesture she well remembered.

“Okay, then. You drive a hard bargain. I’ll pay you four times your normal locator spell fee.”

“I wasn’t trying to drive up my fee,” she snapped. “Look, I wish your family well. Really. Why don’t you try Willow Anders? She apprenticed under me last year and has remarkable—”

“That won’t do. I don’t hire second-best. Please, Tansy. I’ll make it worth your while.”

He’d uttered please twice in one minute. Resistance crumbled away. She sighed, hoping she’d made the right decision.

“Alright, I’ll do it. My coven could really put the money to good use.”

“You always cared more about your damn coven than—” He stopped abruptly, expelling a long breath and running a hand through his dark, shoulder-length hair. “Never mind. That’s ancient history. So . . . thanks. What do we do first? I want her home before nightfall.”

“I can’t make any promises other than to do my best. Let me hold that note again.”

He thrust it into her hands, and she pressed it between her palms, closing her eyes. Her senses sharpened, and a familiar tingle numbed her fingers. A blurry image formed of a young red-headed girl. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth opened in an o of surprise. Tansy felt an impression of tears slide down her own cheeks, and her heartbeat accelerated. Daphne had been crying, and she was clearly in the grip of some powerful emotion. But was it joy or despair?

“What is it?” Drake asked. “Is she okay?”

Tansy opened her eyes and slowly shook her head. “I’m not quite sure.” She withdrew several items from a cabinet drawer, including a folded map, which she spread open at the table.

“Didn’t know there was such a detailed drawing of these hills and valleys,” Drake remarked. Their shoulders touched as he leaned over the table beside her.

Tansy sucked in a sharp breath at the contact. Heat spread through her body. Some things never changed, and her physical reaction to Drake certainly had not.

“The map’s proven useful over the years.” Discreetly, she inched away from his closeness and lit a candle. “I’ll need your silence for a few minutes.”

“Of course.” He took a step back, and she drew a steadying breath.

Focus. The matter at hand required total concentration. She placed different colored placemats in the four corners around the map to correspond with elements and energies. There was a familiar order, a ritual she employed for every spell.

First.

Red in the southern quarter, representing fire. Tansy lit a red candle and summoned courage and illumination.

Second.

Yellow in the eastern quarter to draw on air’s energy. She took a deep breath and then exhaled, blowing on a crow feather. Gently, she laid it down, the feather symbolic of the crow’s watchful, sentinel nature.

Third.

Blue in the western quarter, symbolized by a cup of water that she placed on the navy placemat. She dipped her index finger in the cup and summoned the gift of intuition and the ability to feel the emotions of the lost person.

Fourth.

Green in the northern quarter for the earth element. Tansy held a sprig of rosemary to her nose, inhaling the clean, tang of the herb, and summoned earth’s wisdom and its gift of emerging from darkness to light. She set the herb atop the forest green cloth.

With all four energies summoned, it was time to begin the real work. Tansy held her bloodstone pendulum in her palms, infusing it with her accumulated power. She concentrated on Daphne’s image and then held the pendulum in the center of the map. The chain slowly traversed the atlas in wide circles, tentatively searching. With a faint tug, it guided her hand back to the south side and arced in smaller circles, narrowing into a specific location. The pendulum’s pull grew stronger, more insistent.

Tansy opened her eyes, reading the fine script by a blue, squiggly line. “Ahern’s Creek.”

“Never heard of it,” Drake said. “What’s out there? How far is it from your cabin?”

“About eighty miles. I’ve never been there. My guess is that they’re either camping or have found a deserted cabin.”

“I’m not paying you to guess.”

Ah, there was the Drake of old. She regarded him coolly. “Again, you’re welcome to take your business elsewhere.”

He held up a hand. “No, no. Excuse me. I’m just anxious to make sure Daphne’s unharmed. Is there any way to pinpoint their location more precisely?”

“Yes, but I’ll need to gather a few more items.”

“Like what?”

“Did you bring a recent photo of Daphne? Maybe a lock of her hair?”

“Photo,” he mumbled, reaching for his back pocket. He withdrew his phone and pulled up a photo. "That’s Daphne on the right. Her twin, Ruby, is on the left.”

The smiling faces of the girls pinched at Tansy’s heart. Drake’s daughters. Their skin and eyes glowed with an innocence that only youth possessed. They might not have their father’s dark coloring, but something about the shape of their nose and lips was like Drake’s.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered, her fingers tracing Daphne’s features. Again, some strong emotion set her pulse pounding, and her hand trembled. This feeling of the girl she could name.

Betrayal.

“You did the right thing seeking me. Your daughter might have left willingly with the man, but he’s betrayed her trust.”

“I knew it.” Drake slammed a fist on the table and then paced the room. “What else can you see? Is she . . .” He stopped and faced her, swallowing hard. “Is she hurt?”

“I didn’t pick up any impression of physical pain.”

He nodded. “I’m grateful for that, at least. I’ll get her back before he can hurt her. Anything else you can tell me?”

“Not at this time. I might get more though if I visited her room, touched clothes she’s worn, or held a lock of her hair. Physical touch strengthens my connection. It would also help to see a photo of her abductor. Might you have some papers he’s signed or handled? The more I can energetically connect to them, the better my chances of giving a more precise location.”

Indecision warred across his features. “Okay,” he conceded. “I want nothing more than to rent a helicopter and search immediately, but it might be more prudent to overtake her abductor by surprise.”

“Agreed. I didn’t sense imminent danger.”

Drake turned on his heel and strode for the door. Tansy blew out the candle, tucked the map in her purse, and followed him out of the cabin and into his huge vehicle. Before she’d even closed the passenger-side door, Drake hit the accelerator, and they lurched forward, off to a speedy start. His fast driving left her on edge, but she kept her mouth shut. If Daphne were her daughter, she’d be just as reckless.

The silence grew oppressive and awkward. “Tell me more about your daughters,” she said at last. “What’s it like to suddenly be the father of teenage girls?”

“Terrifying.”

Tansy laughed, the admission taking her by surprise. The old Drake would have never admitted such a vulnerability.

The barest hint of a smile ghosted his face, and then his jaw tightened. “How did you know this fatherhood gig was new to me?”

“I read the papers. When a billionaire moves into a remote area in Appalachia, you bet news of his life gets around, no matter how hard he tries to suppress attention.”

His mouth twisted. “What else have you heard about me?”

“That you’re reclusive. That your home is guarded like a military base. That you’ve been generous with local charities.” And, of course, there’d been rampant gossip about how he’d inherited his children when their mother, an old girlfriend, had died.

“Anything else?”

She knew what he was asking. “No. Not even a hint that you’re . . . different.”

Different. He was so much more than that. Drake Evers was special. The sudden memory of Drake shifting to dragon form arose in her mind. Flesh morphing to metallic crimson and black scales, his body elongating and sprouting wings. Powerful and sexy. Drake had breathed fire, but he was always careful not to harm her. Many times, she’d flown on his back through the midnight sky, high above the familiar mountains and valleys of home. It was powerful magic like she’d never experienced before or since. She’d completely lost her heart to Drake.

This line of thinking needed avoiding at all cost. “What about your girls?” Tansy asked suddenly, eyes widening with a new idea. “Can’t Daphne, um, use her own dragon power to escape this guy?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Her mother was human. As a result, her power’s too diluted.”

“But half your blood is in her DNA. Surely she can at least conjure a fireball or something?”

“It doesn’t work that way for us. The dragon gene is extremely recessive. The most either of them have ever shown of my nature is a tendency to run abnormally high temperatures. Other than that—nada.”

“No wonder there’s so few of your kind remaining.”

He raised his brows and gave her a brief, pointed look before turning his attention to a bend in the road. “Yeah, that, coupled with your kind abetting dragon hunters. Damn near killed us all off.”

“That was hundreds of years ago. Nothing to do with me.”

But since that time, their ancient history resulted in dragons harboring a wariness against witches. Tansy supposed the remaining antipathy was natural, but it still rankled when Drake threw her in with a medieval lot of bad witches whose greed had led them to forsake the witches’ creed to harm none.

The two of them had gotten along just fine—more than fine—until she’d trusted him enough to reveal her witch nature. She hadn’t known it at the time, but her honesty had doomed their relationship.

They settled into an uncomfortable silence for the remainder of the journey. Her ears popped, and she yawned, trying to adjust to the altitude as the Hummer steadily climbed Blood Mountain. At last, they came to its peak, and she got her first live glimpse of the Evers estate.

Breathtaking. A feat of engineering out in the middle of nowhere. The palatial home was built of rock and featured balconies from almost every window to take advantage of what must surely be a stunning view of Appalachia’s rolling hills and green, lush forests.

“Amazing,” she murmured.

Drake nodded curtly, pulling into a circular drive by the mansion’s entrance. “I take great pride in it, but the place also comes with a steep price. We have to be on constant alert for predators.” At the door, he shut off the engine and faced her, his face grim. “Today, we failed.”

Tansy almost shuddered at the anger rippling from his body in waves of heat. The car’s interior temperature rose, and perspiration beaded her forehead. It felt as humid as being enclosed in a steam sauna and the windows completely fogged.

“Might want to take it easy, there,” she softly cautioned.

Drake nodded and opened the door. “Right. I’ll save my anger for Adam Wingate tonight.”

Two broad-shouldered, muscular men strode toward them. Obviously security guards. She didn’t envy being in their shoes right now. They had no idea of the power and the anger that lay beneath Drake’s human form.

Tansy scampered from the car, lifting her hair from the sweaty nape of her neck and sucking in the cool mountain air.

“Sir, there’s been an unfortunate development,” one of guards said, slanting her a curious gaze before facing his boss again.

“Out with it,” Drake barked when the guard hesitated.

“Wingate contacted us with a ransom demand. He demands your Heart of Courage ruby and two hundred thousand dollars in cash in exchange for your daughter.”

Tansy sucked in her breath. This abductor was no mere gold digger.

“The exact amount of cash in my vault. Bastard. When and where?” he rasped.

“Tomorrow morning at exactly six o’clock. Says the location won’t be revealed until the last moment.”

“Show me the note.”

“It was sent by e-mail, sir. Wingate had access to our private addresses, yours included.”

Drake opened his mouth to speak again, but the guard anticipated his next request.

“We’re on it. Marshall is an expert cyber-investigator. If the origin of the message can be traced to a specific location, Marshall will know shortly.” The guard then faced Tansy directly and held out a hand. “Charles Stanley. You must be the woman Drake believes can help find Daphne.”

What had Drake told them, if anything, of her special ability? She took his hand, and a deep sense of darkness engulfed her spirit. But whether it was due to the guard’s energy or her own sudden terror of failing Drake, Tansy couldn’t say.