Force

by Taylor Longford

  "But you've been looking for them for months," I argued in a whisper. "How am I supposed to find them in a few hours all of a sudden?"

  "It doesn't have to be right away," he answered cryptically. "It doesn't matter how long it takes. I'll still be here."

  "But—"

  He gripped my arm. "Listen, Camie. We don't have time to waste. My family is living nearby. In this…town. This city."

  "They're in Boulder?" I exclaimed. "How did they get here? How do you know they're here?"

  "Olivia told me."

  "What do you mean?"

  "She taunted me with the fact that my family is close by but couldn't help because they didn't know I was here."

  I narrowed my eyes on him. "What makes you think she was telling the truth?"

  In his state of fatigue, my question seemed difficult for him to process. A deep notch cut between his tawny eyebrows. "Why would she lie?"

  "Because she's a liar!" I hissed.

  "But…she knew their names," he argued slowly. "She knew…about Reason and his art."

  "Reason's art?" I questioned.

  He shook his head like my questions were wearing him out. "I don't have time to explain. You need to get away from here," he whispered. "Now. Find my family."

  "But—"

  "I'll be safe," he insisted wearily. "You'll understand…everything…in a minute." And with those words, he pushed himself into the icy water of the overflowing creek.

  "Force," I cried, forgetting to keep my voice down and leaning out over the creek to grab at his shoulders. "You can't do that. The water's too cold. It'll kill you."

  He shook his head slightly. "I'll be alright. Move back, lass. Watch…and you'll understand."

  So I did as he said even though I hated to let him go. And I watched as he crossed his arms over his chest then laid back in the creek bed. So I saw him change as the sun-dappled water rushed over his face. I watched as he turned completely gray, from head to toe.

  I thought he'd died. I screamed then covered my mouth, frantically searching behind me to make sure I hadn't been heard. But the growth along the riverbank was so thick, I couldn't see anything between me and the lab. My next reaction was to pull him out of that freezing river. But as I plunged my hands into the stinging cold water and got a hold of his shoulder, I realized he'd turned to stone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Uh-huh, you heard me right. Force had turned to stone! Hard as a rock. Which wasn't even possible, right? But there wasn't time to be shocked. Because a heavy door slammed in the distance and the sound of men's voices traveled to my hiding place. Angry voices. Someone was getting chewed out, royally. And I suspected it was the guard who'd let me into the building.

  Poor sucker.

  I crept to a thinner spot in the brush and watched three guys climb from the stairwell about two hundred feet away. Two of them wore bandages on their hands. The third guy was my security guard.

  It was time to go. Before they found me. Before I led them to Force.

  But before I sloshed through the creek and scrambled up the bank on the other side, I checked to make sure Force was still there. He was. And something about the way he was lying partially submerged in that ditch full of water looked vaguely familiar. But I didn't have time to think about it properly so I shoved it to the back of my mind. And on the other side of the stream, I turned around and hissed at his gray stone form, "I think there's a whole lot of things you haven't told me about."

  My jeans were soaked to the knees and my shoes made a squelching sound with every step I took as I headed across the open fields toward the city, but I ignored all that, thinking mostly about that kiss. And thinking how strange it was that you could kiss one guy and it could be as disgusting as a mouthful of worms. And you could kiss another and…wow. Just wow.

  I was in the middle of a life-or-death crisis and all I could think was wow. How sad is that? It was a good thing the whole of humanity wasn't counting on me to save the day because (obviously) I didn't have the focus to be a super hero.

  But while I was wowing, at least I came up with a save-the-day plan. It involved leaving Force's rune lying around Boulder, just like his family had done in Denver. And since I had to find his family fast, I was going to have to leave the rune in highly visible locations. I couldn't wait for someone to stumble across my work in a dark alley. But if I tried to leave the rune in a public place where lots of people would see it, I'd get chased off the minute someone saw me lift a can of spray paint.

  So I decided on chalk. Uh-huh, chalk. Because even though the authorities hate graffiti on walls, they don't seem to mind art on sidewalks. And sidewalks are perfectly visible, perfectly public places. So I decided to get a box of chalk and leave Force's rune all over town…along with my phone number. At least I knew that (unlike Force) his family would know what a phone number was and what to do with it.

  And as soon as I was out in the open, I started running.

  The sparse dotting of industrial buildings gave way to suburban streets and eventually I saw a Walmart off in the distance. I was still jogging when I reached the door with my great save-the-day plan. There was only one problem. When I reached the cash register with the box of chalk I'd found at the end of the store, my pocket was empty. Uh-huh. My last five dollars had ended up in a worn out guitar case on the corner of 17th and Curtis. I double-checked my purse, just in case, but there was nothing in there except for my makeup.

  Briefly, I considered slipping the small, thick box into my purse and heading for the exit. But I chickened out. I've never stolen anything before and doubt I'd be very good at it. Besides, I couldn't risk getting caught; I didn't have time for a detour to the police station.

  With my hands tucked into my back pockets, I left Walmart and headed for the city center. For years, I'd helped out street people. And at that point, I figured I should have some sort of karma working for me. And behind a coffee shop on the Pearl Street Mall, I found a cardboard box, pulled out my eyeliner stick and wrote, "Need Help" on the ragged flap. Then I sat down with my back against a sun-warmed storefront and waited for something good to happen.

  It was slow going. Really makes me appreciate what street people go through. Guess I'd been kinda hoping that money just rained down on them from folks who were far far better off…which describes most of the people who shop at upscale city malls where the streets are closed to all but pedestrian traffic.

  Yeah, right. So much for my unrealistically optimistic view of the world. A few people threw some coins into my sad little box but at the rate I was going, I wouldn't have enough money to buy the chalk until sometime the next day. Then karma finally kicked in and a dollar floated past my eyes on its way into the box.

  I lifted my head to thank the girl for her gift. She was a few years older than me, probably a college student. But she looked like she had money. Not a lot, but probably more than I'd ever seen. As she smiled and turned away, my gaze latched on her tank. It was really cute, long and loose in a luscious shade of tangerine. The color really popped against her long brown hair. Yep, even in crisis mode, I don't overlook a really nice top that would look great on me. And I'm all about spaghetti straps.

  Then I noticed her tattoo, and my heart did a double take.

  "Wait," I shouted, deserting my box on the sidewalk as I bolted to my feet and hurried after her. "What's that on your arm?" I demanded when I reached her.

  She frowned down at the ink just below her shoulder. "It's a tattoo," she answered, acting all chill like it was just an ordinary tat like anyone else's.

  But I knew better. "I've seen that symbol before, on a wall in Denver."

  "Oh?" she murmured and kept walking. "Well, that's kinda surprising. But I didn't leave it there."

  "I didn't think you did," I shot at her, skipping to keep up and watching her face closely. "It was left as a message. From a guy named Victor."

  Her eyes flickered with surprise and maybe even a hint of alarm.

  "Do you
know Victor?" I demanded, short on grace but—in my own defense—also short on time.

  Her expression was guarded as she narrowed her eyes and searched my face like she was trying to decide if I was a friend or an enemy…or just slightly to the left of crazy.

  So, I realized Victor is a relatively common name and she could easily know more than one guy with that name. It was time to pull out the big guns and go for broke. "What about his brothers, Reason and Chaos? Do you know them?"

  She stopped on the sidewalk, her eyes going wide. I could tell by her reaction I was on the right track. She knew Force's family. But I could see she still wasn't sure she should answer, like she was trying to protect someone. Like she was trying to decide if I could be trusted with some sort of secret that I still didn't understand. But I thought the secret just might have something to do with people turning suddenly and unexpectedly into stone.

  "Force needs help," I blurted out, cutting to the chase.

  That worked. In a hurry. The girl grasped my arm, her fingernails digging into my skin. "You know Force?" she exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "You know where he is?"

  "I know exactly where he is," I answered, returning her serious gaze with a determined one of my own. "He needs help. Can you reach his family?"

  "But…who are you?" she asked, some of her caution returning.

  "My name's Camie," I answered. "Camie White. I met Force in Denver. I found him…in a dumpster. But he was kidnapped by a giant Legolas. Can you help?"

  "Giant Legolas?" she echoed. "What do you mean?"

  "I don't have time to explain. Can you help?"

  "Yes," she answered, tugging me with her as she started down the street again. "I know Force's family. I can take you to them right now."

  I yanked my arm from her grip. "No, I have to go back and make sure Force is okay. And tell him that help's on the way. You bring the others."

  For several seconds she looked like she was going to argue but something in my expression probably told her it would be a waste of time. "Where?" she finally demanded.

  When I told her, her face went pale.

  "Do you…know the Olanders?" I asked on a hunch.

  "I've met Olivia," she answered faintly, her gaze troubled, her eyes searching mine. "We've had dealings with her before. Force is in a lot of danger."

  "And that's exactly what I've been trying to tell you," I said, a rush of relief washing over me as I backed away from her. "Send help, right away. We'll be behind the lab, close to the river."

  "Okay," she called back. "I'm Samantha, by the way. Samantha Evans. I'll get the guys. We'll pick you up if we pass you."

  "You won't pass me," I assured her and took off running. Fast. How fast? Well, there's a reason why I'm so good at stealing bases.

  I don't know why Samantha thought she might pass me since I didn't plan on taking my time or following the roads much, instead cutting through fields and parking lots when I cleared the city. But I wish she hadn't said anything, because when a black car pulled up beside me at the edge of town and slowed down, I thought it was help—I thought it was Force's family—and I quit running when the door opened.

  That made it really easy for Legolas-The-Large to pull me into the back seat of the limo.

  "Imagine meeting you here," he said while he was manhandling me into the car with his ironclad arms.

  "Doesn't take much imagination," I huffed.

  "Drive," he told the chauffeur as he shoved me into the seat facing him and locked his gaze on me…which was chilling to say the least. Because if eyes are the windows to a person's soul, I was looking into a dark pit where monsters pan-fried their children for breakfast. Uh-huh, I was pretty sure he was a nasty person, despite his classy gray suit, crisp white shirt and blue silk tie. And that was before I flashed on him.

  What I saw when I flashed on him was enough to freeze my soul right to its core. Because what I saw was a bloody mess. It was some kind of animal. I'm not sure what kind exactly—maybe a dog—but it had four legs and it had been recently skinned. And the poor creature was still alive. It was moving feebly in a pool of its own blood.

  This was the man's most treasured memory.

  I thought I was going to hurl, and was tempted to do exactly that, and aim for his pricey Italian loafers. But when he gave me a dark smile, I suspected he was fantasizing about torturing me. So I started talking before I could start shaking. "You do know that kidnapping is a punishable offense, right?"

  "You're only punished if you get caught," he murmured, tugging at his gold cufflinks. "So perhaps you should give me your phone so we can avoid that eventuality."

  "Phone?" I echoed, acting dumb.

  "Every girl your age has a phone," he sighed and slipped a knife from the pocket inside his jacket. "Even the underprivileged ones. You can either give it to me voluntarily or I'll use my knife to find it in your jeans."

  I looked down at my skinny jeans and decided it would be difficult to cut out the pockets without generating any blood. So I dug out my cell and handed it over.

  He smiled as he powered if off and wrenched it in two, letting the pieces fall through his fingers to the floor of the car. "I'm Rafe," he said. "Rafe Olander."

  "I don't care," I answered, holding his gaze like I wasn't afraid of him.

  He seemed amused by my response. "Well, we'll see if we can change that," he said softly.

  "What do you want with me?" I asked, trying to maintain a careless attitude when I was feeling anything but.

  He lifted his hand and checked out his fingernails. "You were with that gargoyle in Denver. Down by the stadium."

  I had no idea what he was talking about. "There aren't any gargoyles at the stadium. Just a big white horse. I'm not even sure it's made of stone. It looks like it could be plaster."

  He brushed his thumb over his nails. "You're the one who broke him out of the lab."

  The lab? So apparently, he was talking about Force. But why was he calling him a gargoyle? "I don't know what you're talking about," I said flatly.

  "You didn't know he was a gargoyle?" he drawled. "I guess I believe that."

  "Who's a gargoyle?"

  "Your young boyfriend."

  Force? A gargoyle? Okay, so the guy had to be nuts, right? Except that I'd watched Force turn to stone in that creek bed. So whatever Force was, he sure as heck wasn't human. Could he be something like a…gargoyle? And if he was a gargoyle, what the heck did that make Rafe? Besides a disgusting sociopathic deviant. "I don't have a boyfriend," I claimed stubbornly.

  His eyebrows arched upwards in amusement. "No? Tall. Yellow hair. Nice looking boy. My sister met with both of you at that Chinese restaurant. I told Olivia her little modeling scheme wouldn't work."

  "Gold hair," I corrected him. "And we're just friends."

  "Just friends," he murmured, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around my arm. "Then you won't mind telling me where he is. And please don't say you weren't involved in his escape because I have security footage that says otherwise."

  "I don't know where he is," I shot back as his fingers tightened around my biceps. "We got separated after I busted him out. I was looking for him when you…picked me up."

  Rafe's dead-black eyes narrowed on me. "I think you know exactly where he is," he said. "And I know I'm going to enjoy finding out if I'm right. But I'm curious. Why did you come to the lab looking for him? What made you think he'd be here?"

  "Family resemblance," I told him, leaving out the part about the limo driver I'd recognized. "I saw you grab Force down by the stadium. And you look just like your sister so I headed to your lab. Where is dear Olivia, by the way?"

  "Out shopping for a table with stronger restraints," he answered, tightening his hold enough that it was painful. "She's not very happy with me right now. Blames me for the gargoyle's escape. Where did you get the code to unlock her security system and open the lab door?"

  "I got it from your sister," I spat, squirming in his crushing grip.

&
nbsp; "She wouldn't have given you the code," he pointed out pleasantly, like he wasn't almost snapping my arm in two.

  "She didn't have to," I yelled back.

  "Then how did you get it?"

  "You sister has a leaky brain," I snarled. "Just like you."

  His eyes glittered with malevolence. "What do you mean by that?"

  "Let me put it this way," I sliced up at him. "Have you ever skinned a human? Or do you only torture helpless animals?"

  It was nice to see him lose a little of his composure, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.

  "I know everything about you and your sister," I lied. "And I have friends who know that I came to your lab today. If I disappear, the police will be looking for me. And when they investigate, my DNA will be all over your car."

  "I can replace the car," he pointed out with an arched eyebrow.

  "If I disappear, the police will look for me," I insisted stubbornly even though I knew it would take days before anyone from Denver would start wondering where I was. But maybe Force's family would follow up. "And when I get away from you, you're gonna be in a crap-ton of trouble."

  His expression turned icy cold. "Well, we'll just have to make sure you don't get away, then, won't we?" he hissed as the limo pulled into the lab's parking lot and glided to the stairwell at the side of the building—the stairwell I'd coaxed Force up a few hours earlier.

  "You're taking me to your lab?" I snorted. "I'd have thought you had a dungeon at home for occasions like this. So much more private."

  "I do," he agreed with a careless nod. "But the neighbors complain about the noise. The rooms here are soundproof."

  I swallowed hard, my frantic gaze searching through the tinted windows. "What about employees?"

  "Gone for the day," he answered with a cruel smile. "Besides, there's something here at the lab that I need for your…questioning."

  "What's that?" I croaked, shrinking back in my seat.

  His voice was rich with satisfaction when he answered. "His weapons," he said.

  "What?" I rasped from a dry throat.