Stone Angel

by Christina Dodd

  Genny interrupted. “You were too young to work.”

  “I was too young to work legally,” Amanda corrected.

  The Chosen Ones looked at each other, and nodded their heads or shook them.

  They had all been abandoned, too, and Amanda would bet some of them had worked as children, too. She continued, “My family was already on welfare, which made it easier for me to fool the system and keep food on the table. I used my college savings to pay for Sophia’s daycare so I could finish high school, and after I graduated I worked nights to put myself through nursing school. Sophia was totally worth it. She was bright and sweet-natured, and I knew I had done the right thing when I took her as my own." Amanda felt the glow of pride at her sister's accomplishments, and her own.

  The Chosen Ones circled her.

  She supposed they weren’t trying to be threatening — well, maybe Caleb and Samuel — but they made her ever more nervous. "Anyway, when Sophia turned eleven, the tattoo, well, I guess it bloomed. It had always been a closed bud along her forearm. But that year, it grew and changed until it seemed to be a full-fledged flower."

  Rosamund pulled out a notebook and a pencil from behind her ear, and took notes so intently Amanda knew she wanted to rush to one of the books on the shelves and find the specific meaning of flower tattoos among the Abandoned Ones.

  Amanda continued haltingly, "I was in a … um … relationship. And I wasn't paying enough attention to Sophia. I know that now. I got caught up with the one man who hadn't run away when I said I was raising my sister.”

  Isabelle and Genny nodded their heads in understanding.

  "He led them right to me. The Others." At the memory of how she had been betrayed, Amanda’s face flushed with humiliation and rage.

  Aaron’s eyes grew cold.

  Irving's lips pressed into a thin, pale line.

  John asked the question hanging in the air, the answer to which they all probably already knew. “So Sophia has a gift. What is it? Why did the Others want her?”

  Amanda faced him. "She's always been able to create small force fields. She used to do it when she was a baby and didn't want me to take a toy away from her. But as she grew older, the force fields became stronger, larger. She could control them, put them up at will. I should have known someone would notice.” She paused to collect herself. “I should have known no one would love me without an ulterior motive."

  “That’s dramatic,” Charisma said coldly.

  Amanda matched her stare for stare. “Is it? Have you ever been in love? Have you ever been betrayed?”

  Charisma’s gaze faltered, and she stepped back. “No.” She shook her head slightly. “No, not like that.”

  “I figured.” As Amanda thought of him, she could feel the anger rising in her, the familiar surge of pain and hatred. She tamped it back down, knowing it would do her no good to show the Chosen her weaknesses.

  She needed to make them understand.

  She needed their help.

  “After the Others took Sophia, they told me I would be placed here, in Irving’s home. They wanted me to use my abilities as a nurse to get access to Irving and to all of you. I was to report back each week with information about the Chosen Ones and especially Irving’s movements.”

  McKenna’s shoulders stiffened. He was known for his protectiveness of Irving, and he probably wanted to throw Amanda out a window right about now.

  She wouldn’t really blame him. But she couldn’t blame herself, either. “And to ensure my compliance, Sophia would be kept frozen, a statue in the Sculptor’s home.” She choked on the last words.

  “That’s … horrible.” Samuel’s dark eyes were wide and appalled, and he reached for Isabelle’s hand and held it as if he needed support, or wanted to assure himself she was still there, and with him.

  “Frozen? In his home?” Genny looked as horrified as Samuel. “She’s still a kid. This is the most heartless…” She seemed to struggle for words.

  John hugged her shoulders.

  And as Amanda looked around the room, she realized that, although they didn’t know her sister, the horror of it hurt them all. After so much anguish and secrecy, the knowledge that they shared her loathing for the Sculptor and his despicable actions allowed her her first free, full breath in two months. “The Sculptor will keep her prisoner for as long as it takes for me to … to…”

  “Deliver me into their hands?” Irving asked.

  “Yes.” Amanda looked apologetically at Irving, slumped in his wheelchair and chilled even with the heat from the fire washing over him. “I’m not even sure why the Others want you. You’re not someone they should be frightened of.”

  “And yet they are. What does that tell you?” John looked grimly satisfied.

  Irving saluted John. “Thank you, my boy. And Amanda — old and sick as I am, I have knowledge the Others wish to gain, and strength the Others wish to emulate.”

  “If only they had your courage.” John half-smiled, and saluted Irving in return.

  “The Others wish to take the heart out of us. For what would we do without our mentor?” Charisma moved forward to gently squeeze Irving’s arthritic hands.

  “So the Sculptor is your contact?” Caleb watched Amanda intently, and his eyes were several degrees chillier than anyone else’s.

  “No. I report to Liam Gallagher.” Amanda tasted the slow, familiar burn of fury and humiliation. “He’s an Other. The Other. The one who romanced me. The one who betrayed my sister’s location to the Sculptor.”

  Charisma snorted. “Nice to see this Sculptor fellow has a sense of humor.”

  “Yes, because humorless bad guys are just the worst,” Aaron said sarcastically.

  Irving waved them into silence.

  “What information have you told them?” Caleb asked.

  Amanda tried to contain her rising fear that the Chosen, normally so reasonable, would hurt her now. After all, they had trusted her with Irving, their source of wisdom and support, both financial and emotional.

  Yet surely they understood the bonds of blood, kin and sisterhood. Surely they did.

  “I tried always to tell the Others the truth, although never a truth that could do you harm,” Amanda said. “I told them that Isabelle and Samuel had chosen each other as mates, but I supposed they would know that anyway since you went to Osgood’s building. I’ve kept them apprised of Irving’s rehabilitation, and done whatever they’ve suggested to ease his pain and hasten his recovery. They are anxious for him to get well enough to leave the mansion. I suspect they intend to snatch him the first time he goes outside.”

  “And you wouldn’t stop them because they would retaliate by killing your sister,” Genny added the part everyone was thinking.

  “Yes,” Amanda agreed.

  Silence descended.

  The fire flickered.

  Martha tapped on the teapot.

  Finally, Charisma broke the silence. “Blackmail is a bitch.”

  Nods and murmurs of agreement circulated around the group.

  Amanda let out a little of the breath she’d been holding. Maybe they wouldn’t kill her for being a turncoat after all. She steeled herself and gazed at Irving, who had been mostly silent, staring into the fire, thinking.

  Leaning close so she was face-to-face with him, she said, “Irving, I’m sorry I lied to you and betrayed your confidential medical information. I am so truly sorry. But I need your help.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  IRVING ATTEMPTED to sit up straighter, and Amanda moved instinctively to help him. In the slow, halting way he had spoken since his accident, he said, “No one can blame you for doing whatever you could to get your sister back. No one understands the importance of family and love more than an old man who has no family at all.” Reaching out an unsteady hand, he grasped Amanda’s cold fingers, warming her with his sincerity.

  He wasn’t angry at her. Thank God, for he had been far kinder to her than her own parents. “Thank you, Irving.” Amanda had n
ever meant anything more in her life.

  Rosamund adjusted her glasses and, tactless as always, said, “You’ve always been so severe, so unsmiling. It’s nice to know you had a good reason.”

  “Sit down here and tell me what I can do to help you get your sister back.” Irving gestured Amanda into the chair beside him. “I’m afraid I’m not much good for a rescue mission.”

  The joke seemed to diffuse the last of the tension in the room.

  The Chosen Ones seated themselves around Irving and Amanda.

  Martha set up a small end table next to Irving to hold his tea service, while McKenna handed around tea and plates of goodies.

  Then all eyes fixed on Amanda, and she started talking. And pacing. “I’ve been thinking and thinking. Every night, while I’ve been awake, I’ve been trying to make a plan, a plan to get Sophia back.” She shook her head. “It’s not good, but since according to Jacqueline’s vision, I only have three days to save Sophia, it’ll have to do.”

  Irving nodded encouragingly as he stirred sugar and a small amount of milk into his Earl Gray.

  It always struck Amanda that she wished she liked the idea of tea because Irving made it seem like a beautiful afternoon tradition. But she didn’t like tea, which seemed like nothing more than a concoction of soggy leaves and hot water.

  As if reading her mind, Martha handed her a can of ice-cold Coke with the tab popped.

  Amanda gave Martha a look of gratitude – her hands were shaking so violently that she couldn’t have dealt with opening it herself. She took a long gulp, feeling the caffeine and sugar enter her system, relaxing her. “Each week on my day off — Sunday — I meet my contact at a different location.”

  “So you’re due to meet this Liam Gallagher tomorrow,” Isabelle said.

  “Right. So — my plan is that first, I meet my contact and force him to help me. Next, we’ll infiltrate the Sculptor’s house. Finally, we’ll steal my sister back.” Amanda emphasized each point by ticking it off on her fingers.

  The Chosen Ones stared at her.

  Genny shot the first question at her. “How are you going to force this Liam to help you?”

  Amanda sank into a chair. “I haven’t quite settled that yet.”

  Caleb asked, “How are you going to get into the Sculptor’s house? Liam will just meekly lead you in, no muss, no fuss?”

  “There could be problems, yes,” Amanda acknowledged.

  “My vision was of course incomplete, but the Sculptor seemed to me to be a powerful man, a magician or a witch with close connections to Osgood.” Jacqueline shook her head wearily.

  “I wonder if I could sneak into the house and do something,” Aaron mused. He was a talented thief; when needed, he could become a wisp of smoke and breach any lock.

  “And if they caught you,” Amanda said, “what would happen to Sophia?”

  “The trick is to not let them catch me,” Aaron said.

  “Jacqueline just said it. The Sculptor is a powerful magician. I’ve been in there. In his mansion.” Amanda shivered. “I assure you, he has spells to protect himself and his home. You don’t know if you could get in the door, much less maintain your camouflage. If I thought I could have had any of you help me, by now, I would have told you the truth. I would have asked. I think if one of the Chosen Ones stepped foot through the door, an alarm would go off within all of Osgood's organization and you’d be surrounded by his goons and captured.”

  “So how will you steal your sister?” Genny asked.

  “I don’t know. But I have to at least try. If I can make it through step one, convincing Liam, then the rest will fall in place.” Uncertainly, Amanda added, “At least, I hope it will.”

  “Okay.” Caleb folded his arms over his chest. “Convince me.”

  “Liam’s power is the ability to change into the form of another person,” Amanda said. “All he has to do is touch them.”

  “Oo!” Rosamund started taking notes again. “Very interesting. Although not unique, shape-shifting is still one of the greater gifts.”

  Amanda stood again. Paced to the fireplace and back. “So I’m going to have him turn into Irving.”

  A moment of silence. Then all around her, heads nodded.

  “Ohhhh, awesome plan,” Charisma marveled.

  “It will look as though you’re handing him over to the Others.” John crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied.

  “Liam changes back into himself once you’re in the house?” Aaron asked.

  “Once I have Sophia,” Amanda corrected. “I don’t want to run any risk of the Sculptor killing her when he realizes that Liam isn’t Irving.”

  “That only leaves one question.” Amanda could almost see the wheels turning in Rosamund’s head as she calculated the likelihood of the plan working and any loopholes that could cause problems. “And it’s kind of a big one.”

  “What’s that, honey?” Aaron asked.

  Rosamund turned her violet eyes on Amanda. “How are you going to force Liam to help you?”

  Everyone buzzed with ideas.

  Irving’s halting voice cut through the room. “She’s going to offer him more money than he could imagine.”

  Amanda promptly picked up the thread. “I don’t know. I’m sure he can imagine quite a bit.”

  Conversation came to a halt.

  Amanda looked around. “What? You’re surprised I can recognize a quote from Star Wars?”

  Jacqueline examined her thoughtfully. “I guess I never figured you for the role of Princess Leia.”

  “Better hope Liam is good enough to play the role of Han Solo, or it’s the garbage compactor for us all,” Samuel said.

  Aaron smacked him across the back of the head.

  Samuel flinched away.

  Isabelle elbowed him in the gut.

  Samuel said, “Oof!” and clutched his belly.

  Amanda wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she grinned.

  Samuel’s eyes were watering, but he winked at her. “Don’t worry, princess. You’re going to do just fine.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  AMANDA WRAPPED her coat more snugly around herself and walked briskly down the stairs of Irving’s mansion.

  She didn’t look back at the Chosen Ones as they pressed themselves against the library windows.

  Caleb had offered to accompany her for protection, but she convinced him, and the Chosen Ones, that any change in her behavior would alert the Sculptor and ruin the most important part of her plan: surprise.

  She was determined to carry out the first part of her plan alone. Hailing a cab, she directed the dubious smelling driver to Columbus Circle.

  The ride took forever, as the driver wove in and out of late afternoon traffic, giving her time to mull over her continued and deepening hatred of Liam Gallagher. She supposed it wasn’t good to dwell on it so much, but since she no longer had to watch her every move to ensure the Chosen Ones wouldn’t figure her out, she didn’t have much else to think about. That maddeningly sexy man had baited his trap, and she, like a lovesick puppy, had followed.

  She should have been taking care of her sister. That is what she had done since Sophia was born. But she broke her own rules and fell for Liam — and look how that had turned out. Now she was plotting and planning and hiding. And she was so tired of it all.

  She remembered that night so clearly.

  Just before Christmas…

  She and Sophia had splurged on a real tree for their tiny apartment, after Sophia begged and promised to vacuum the pine needles every day. It was sparsely decorated, mostly with the thirteen ornaments that belonged to Sophia – one for each year of her life. Amanda had lovingly picked them out every Christmas until Sophia was ready to choose her own, starting with a heart made of tiny mirrors that made the lights dance on the tree.

  It was Friday night, the one night of the week that Amanda allowed Sophia to stay up late. Their own little tradition was to watch Frien
ds reruns and eat buttery popcorn with sliced apples and cheddar cheese.

  This time they had invited Liam.

  Amanda had been dating Liam since the summer, and she was quite sure she loved him, which was a little scary since she had never loved anyone but Sophia. She was going to tell him on Christmas morning after they opened their presents. She knew it was cheesy, but she wanted her first “I love you” to be extra special.

  She had been such a gullible fool.

  When she heard the knock, she bounded off the couch and opened the door.

  There, in her cramped and dim apartment hallway, stood the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Liam Gallagher. Black hair so shiny he looked like a Pantene model. A lopsided grin that made his blue eyes twinkle. And a sexy Irish lilt that made everything he said sound sweet and naughty at the same time.

  But tonight he didn’t wait for her invitation, nor did he have the usual bouquet of flowers for Amanda or the box of dark chocolates for Sophia. He glanced furtively behind, rushed inside, and shut the door. He grabbed Amanda roughly by the shoulders. “Has anyone else come by tonight?”

  He was so insistent, so pleading that she answered immediately, “No. Liam, what’s the matter? What’s happened?” Amanda could taste the slow-rise of fear in her mouth, the coppery taste of her own blood where she’d started chewing her cheek.

  Liam looked anguished. “I need you and Sophia to leave as soon as possible. There’s no time for you to pack anything. You need to leave now, get as far away as you can and change your identities. They are coming.”

  Amanda’s heart was pounding, racing in her chest so quickly she feared she might die right here and now from a heart attack.

  Sophia jumped up from the couch and clutched Amanda’s arm.. “I don’t get it.”

  She had grown so tall in the last year but to Amanda, she still seemed like a child.

  In a voice far more calm than she felt, Amanda said “I don’t understand. Who is coming?”