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Stone and Claw: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

Page 35

by R. L. King


  Stone didn’t miss the odd way Jason looked at her, and then away. “We haven’t talked much about you and Foley’s elixir,” he said with care.

  “What’s to talk about?” Jason’s response came too quickly, with a hint of defensiveness. “I did what I had to do.”

  “Yes…” Stone said in the same careful tone. “I understand that. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Now Verity was watching him too. “You want more, don’t you?” she asked with sudden revelation.

  It seemed he might deny it, but instead he gripped the table. “Does that surprise you? I mean—no, of course I don’t want something that came from stealing blood from shifters. But—I can’t deny it felt good to be able to keep up with you guys for a change. And I feel like shit about it, but part of me wishes you hadn’t destroyed the stuff in that building, Al.” He paused, and seemed to be going through an interior struggle. “V…is there any chance you could…”

  “Could what? Make you more of that stuff?”

  “Well…yeah. Something like it, anyway. Is there some other way to do it, without having to use the blood?”

  She looked at Stone, then at Jason, and Stone didn’t miss the sympathy in her eyes. She clearly understood where her brother was coming from. “Jason…I don’t know. We can analyze the stuff left over in the bottle you drank, and maybe figure out another way to do it. Maybe. But…you saw what happened to Officer Foley. Even if we could make something like that, do you really want to risk it? Do you want to be dependent on it?”

  He shrugged. “Not dependent, no. But V—you didn’t feel it. After that stuff healed me up, I felt like I could do anything. Stronger, faster, tougher—I don’t know what you guys feel like when you do magic, and I never will. But if I had something like that, it would make a lot of things a lot easier, you know?”

  She studied him with a troubled expression for several seconds. “I’ll talk to Hezzie. We’ll see what we can come up with.” She lightened her tone. “Hell, it might make a good practical exercise for me, trying to make something like that. But no promises, okay? No guarantees.”

  “Yeah. No guarantees. I get it.”

  “Now come on,” she said. Her tone was still light, but her aura wasn’t. “It’s Doc’s birthday dinner. We’re supposed to be celebrating. Let’s eat and get a little drunk and stop talking about serious stuff, okay?”

  They managed it for the rest of dinner. Verity talked about her visits to San Francisco to hang out with Kyla and the rest of the Harpies, and Jason about a potential case he was meeting with a client about next week. Stone had already given them a quick overview of the end of the Benchley situation, but he answered a few more of their questions about specifics. By the time they finished eating and lingered over after-dinner beers, he felt more relaxed than he had in weeks. Maybe things would finally settle down for a while, and he could focus on mundane pleasures like getting back to work and setting up the rest of his house.

  Finally, Jason excused himself to head to the restroom, and Verity leaned back in her seat, stretching like a cat. “So,” she said, “this wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “No,” he admitted. “As birthday celebrations go, this one was about as painless as I could have hoped for. Thank you both.”

  “Well, it’s not over yet.” She gave him a sly smile. “Maybe I could come back to your place after? You know—without Jason.”

  “I’m glad you clarified that.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “And yes…I’d like that very much. The best sort of birthday present I can imagine, actually.”

  She glanced up and past him. “Don’t say that yet.”

  Stone followed her gaze. Jason was coming back in, carrying a large, flat box wrapped in metallic blue paper. He must have gone out to his car to get it. Several other diners watched him with curiosity as he passed by.

  Stone sighed. “I thought we weren’t doing this—”

  “Don’t worry,” Verity said. “I think you’ll like this. And like I said, it’s not exactly a present.”

  Jason resumed his seat. Verity cleared the dishes to the side of the table, and he laid the package in front of Stone. “Happy birthday, Al.”

  Stone studied the box. It was about four feet long, two feet wide, and six inches deep. “What’s this?”

  “If only there was a way to find out,” Verity drawled, rolling her eyes. “Go on—open it.”

  With both of his friends watching him with unwavering attention, Stone tore the paper off, revealing an unlabeled cardboard box. He glanced at them again, then grabbed a knife from the table, slit the tape holding it closed, and lifted the top free.

  Inside was a guitar—a Stratocaster, like his previous one. Painted a deep wine red with a black pickguard, it clearly wasn’t new: the scuffs on its body and the worn spot on the top where the paint had been rubbed off attested to that. But it had just as clearly been restored—it had new strings and at least one of the pickups had been replaced, and it shone with fresh polish.

  Stone stared at in shock. “What—”

  “You needed another one,” Verity said. “Since your old one got wrecked when you took that oh-so-graceful stage dive.” She grinned. “But we didn’t want to just get you a new one. That’s boring. And that’s why it’s not exactly a gift. Do you recognize it?”

  He leaned in, examining it more closely. It did look familiar. Carefully, he lifted it free of the box and turned it over. The back included several stickers, most of them frayed and partially coming off. One large, black one near the bottom bore a crude logo and the words Fever Dream written in a scrawling, punk-rock script.

  He went still in his chair. “Bloody hell…” he whispered.

  “Like it?”

  “I—” Still holding the Strat, he turned it to view the stickers in better light. “How—how did you find this? How did you know—”

  “How did we find out you used to be in a band in college?” Verity’s grin nearly split her face. “Aubrey told me. I went over there a couple days ago and talked to him. I wanted to get you a guitar to replace your old one, and I figured he might be able to give me some pointers on where to look. I thought maybe I could find you something cool like Aleister Crowley’s old guitar—except I don’t think he ever played guitar, so that was out. But when I told Aubrey what I was looking for, he got all excited and told me to wait while he hunted around in the attic. After an hour or so he came back with that.”

  Stone gaped at her, speechless. “This—was in my attic?” He turned it over again, taking in its familiar contours.

  “Must have been buried fairly deep—he was pretty dusty when he showed up with it. So…you were in a band called Fever Dream? You never tell us the cool stuff, Doc.”

  “It was…a long time ago. At University. It only lasted a few months.” He laid the Strat on the table and wiped a smudge from it with his napkin. “We broke up after the lead singer and the bassist had a falling-out, and at that point I decided I’d better focus on my studies. I had no idea…” He glanced up at them again. Jason was grinning too. “This is—” He knew his voice was shaking a little, but just this once he didn’t care. “Thank you.”

  “Hey, it’s hard to find a gift for the guy who has everything,” Verity said. “So we just gave you something you already owned.”

  “Cheaper that way, anyway.” Jason said with a grin of his own.

  “The ultimate regifting.”

  Stone put the Strat back in the box. “It’s brilliant,” he said. “Absolutely brilliant.”

  “Maybe you can play something for me later,” Verity said slyly.

  “Get a room, you two,” Jason grumbled, but it was clearly affected. “Or at least wait till I leave.”

  Stone regarded both of them, a deep sense of contentment settling over him. It wouldn’t last, he knew—it never did—but for now, he’d take it. He thought about what might happen later that evening,
and reminded himself he’d have to shut Raider out of the bedroom for the duration.

  He hadn’t seen the blue glow in the cat’s eyes since he’d returned home last night to share the story of his final visit to Wright’s office…but there was no point in taking chances.

  Alastair Stone returns in

  Book 16 of the Alastair Stone Chronicles

  Look for it in Winter 2018!

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  Books by R. L. King

  ALASTAIR STONE CHRONICLES SERIES

  Stone and a Hard Place (Book 1)

  The Forgotten (Book 2)

  The Threshold (Book 3)

  The Source (Book 4)

  Alastair Stone Chronicles Box Set (includes books 1-4)

  Core of Stone (Book 5)

  Blood and Stone (Book 6)

  Heart of Stone (Book 7)

  Flesh and Stone (Book 8)

  The Infernal Heart (Book 9)

  The Other Side (Book 10)

  Path of Stone (Book 11)

  Necessary Sacrifices (Book 12)

  Game of Stone (Book 13)

  Steel and Stone (Book 14)

  Stone and Claw (Book 15)

  SHADOWRUN (Published by Catalyst Game Labs)

  Borrowed Time

  Wolf and Buffalo

  Big Dreams

  Veiled Extraction (coming in 2020)

  About the Author

  R. L. King enjoys hanging out with her very understanding spouse and small herd of cats, watching way too much Doctor Who, and attending conventions when she can. She is an Active member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the Horror Writers' Association, and the International Association of Media Tie-in Writers.

  www.alastairstonechronicles.com

  rat@magespacepress.com

 

 

 


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