Blaise refused to meet Goddard’s eyes, lowering his own in an effort to show defeat, even though all he wanted to do was to resist and kill Goddard. Fight! You can take him!
But it was a lie. Not right now. Not yet.
“I’m sorry, my lord.” He choked the words out. “I didn’t mean to...”
Goddard pressed Blaise harder against the stone wall. Blaise felt the rocks scraping his back, cutting him deeply. He struggled and then endured the assault to escape a worse fate.
The attack ended as suddenly as it started. Goddard threw Blaise to the ground with enough strength to continue the punishment. Blaise tumbled a distance away from his Master.
Goddard paced back and forth through the stone chamber.
“Did he truly see you?”
Blaise nodded and pushed himself up to his feet. Goddard dropped into his throne.
“Is it a full moon?” Goddard snapped the question.
“Yes, my lord. That is why we doubled the watch.”
“And his smell? Describe it!” Goddard ordered.
“It was clear. Untainted.” Blaise struggled to find the words. He was certain the boy was the warrior. But if he was wrong, Goddard would rip off his wings before dispatching him to the fires below.
“The sword? Did you see the sword?” Goddard pressed.
Blaise paused. He had forgotten about the weapon in his excitement.
Goddard turned on him with fresh rage. “You idiot! You came in here and persuaded me that our time had finally come, and you didn’t even see the sword! Everything hinges on that!”
Blaise dropped to his knees. “I’m sorry, Master. He was in a car.” His mind raced for an acceptable explanation. “I couldn’t see what he had. I sent the vampires to follow him. Maybe they’ve seen it.”
Goddard regarded him for so long that Blaise squirmed. The demon overlord stalked to the ancient books and scrolls stacked on a stone table at the side of cave. He pivoted and marched to Blaise.
“It lines up. This is the place and the time. Find his sword, and bind him to me.” Goddard’s smile filled Blaise with fear. “And get those blood drinkers in control. Don’t let them touch the boy. I have other plans for him.”
Goddard lowered himself to the rock he had been reclining on. “If you’re right, great honor will come to you. This could be the beginning of our time.”
Blaise bowed low and hurried out of the room before Goddard attacked him again. He hustled down the stairs, tripping in his eagerness and relief to leave. Goddard’s cackles filled the tunnel with the sound of evil.
Chapter Four
Bear Attack
Aunt Kate slows and turns onto a long driveway lined with evergreen trees. As she does, she flips on the left turn signal. Lights from the house filter through the branches.
I take a deep breath, nervous about what is next. I shift in my seat and try to calm myself down a little. It’s just a house.
It’s just my life.
“Do you think a turn signal is necessary out here?” I drawl. “Did you really need to warn all the other drivers you were turning?”
She gives me a dirty look. Maybe in Chicago, she would’ve have laughed. Her exhaustion mixed with apprehension shows as clearly as words on a page.
She can’t be thrilled with moving to a place where artistic decor means hanging your latest kill on the wall. What would an art gallery director do here? Yet she never showed any sadness when she quit her job and packed up the house.
Is she that good at hiding her emotions, or does she love Ryan that much?
The tires crunch on the gravel as we pull up to a two-story house. Every window is thrown open with light blazing like a lighthouse beacon.
I glance at Aunt Kate and am struck with how much she looks like Mom with her short, slight build. Unlike Mom, though, you don’t dare get in Aunt Kate’s way when she’s mad. I’ve seen professional wrestlers meeker than her when she’s on a roll.
I could take the picture of Mom out of my wallet, and it would be a mirror image with matching dark mocha hair and dark brown eyes. I swallow.
Aunt Kate is now older than Mom was when she was killed. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second and focus on the present.
Aunt Kate stops the car, and I get out. I barely have a chance to take in the log house with a large porch before Ryan hurtles out the door and down the stairs. Aunt Kate launches herself at him with more energy than I’ve seen her have for miles. They catch each other in a tight embrace and kiss each other hard on the mouth.
I circle the house to give them privacy and avoid being around such a public display of affection. The trees open up so the house has a clear view of Grangeville and the plains below.
I step farther away from the house and into the night. The lights behind me fade as I step toward the cliff. The stars fill the night sky like the lights of Chicago. With all the streetlights of the city, I hadn’t thought much of what they were hiding. I don’t want to take my eyes off the stars. They shimmer and dance with more light than I’d ever imagined.
I’ve never seen blackness filled with so much light.
As the stars pulsate with energy, I feel a surge of hope. Darkness doesn’t always win, right? The light has to be still there when it’s dark.
This new thought of hope gives me a strange feeling. I haven’t felt this for a long time.
I turn slowly, taking in what this place offers. Then a rustling in the trees catches my attention. I stop moving and hold my breath.
I hear it again. A tree branch creaking as if a heavy weight is lifting off it. My heart begins to pound as I pivot toward the sound.
A bear? What should I do? Where is Ryan when I need him?
He never talked about wild animals coming close to the house.
You could’ve mentioned that, Ryan. Do I run? Play dead?
I strain to hear something, anything, but the silence suffocates me.
A shadow moves in the trees. My heart thuds. A tall shape emerges from under the branches of a tree on the edge of the meadow. Not as wide as what I thought a bear would be. The darkness and fear inside of me pounds and surges so much I’m afraid it will overcome me.
The shadow steps closer to the lawn. I hear nothing but the beating of my heart. I squint.
Is that the outline of a man? Why would he hide in the trees?
I jump when Aunt Kate laughs and calls out, “Nic! Where’d you go?”
The shadow flees into the woods. I strain to catch a glimpse of it as it darts between the trees.
What was that? Was he watching me?
“Nic!” Ryan calls.
I study the woods until I’m certain the figure in the woods is gone. The darkness inside retreats until the only sign of it is my hands shaking. I hurry back to the house.
Ryan grins when I join them. His sandy-blond hair is tousled, and his hazel eyes twinkle with excitement.
“Hey, man,” he says as he gives me a quick strong hug that squeezes the air out of my lungs. “How was the drive?”
“Long,” I say. “I saw a bear or something! I think it was going to attack, but then Aunt Kate called and scared it off!” I gesture to the back of the house.
Ryan laughs, his hazel eyes twinkling. “So close to the house? Your city brain is playing tricks on you. Our camping trip should help.”
Before I can ask about this sudden mention of camping, Aunt Kate changes the subject. “Did you go to the accident?”
Ryan sobers and runs his hand through his hair. “Yup. It isn’t my job, but they needed hands. Up toward Missoula, there’s some hot springs named Jerry Johnson.” He shakes his head. “We still don’t know what happened. Maybe a bear. Or mountain lion. But something ripped five people apart. And I mean ripped. Legs here. Arms there. Even a decapitated body.”
The darkness doesn’t give me warning. All the colors wash away. The yellow flowers on the porch turn to gray. Images I’ll never forget play in front of my eyes...
Blood rolls towar
d my feet on a white floor...
“A simple yes would have been enough,” Aunt Kate scolds.
I jerk myself to the present and realize that I’m stepping back from blood that isn’t there. Aunt Kate doesn’t notice me as she turns to admire the house. Ryan bounds up the steps and swings open the front door with a flourish and a bow. The pool of blood that was never there diminishes, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Your castle awaits, m’lady,” he proclaims.
I shake my head at his lousy acting and grab my backpack out of the car before following him up the porch, through the dining room and kitchen, and into the living room. A large stone fireplace sits on the far side with a small fire crackling its welcome.
Aunt Kate obviously loves every tiny bit of the house from the way she fusses over everything. I follow them, impressed that the log cabin is exactly what ski resorts look like in the movies.
The walls are painted an off-white color, and the cathedral ceiling is framed with logs. The living room opens up to a large kitchen and a dining room. I peer up the stairs by the front door, wondering what my bedroom looks like.
This is my house now. Empty of memories. Void of any reminder of Mom.
“It’s more than we thought we’d spend,” Ryan confesses. “But I wanted you guys to love it, and when I saw it, I knew we had to have it.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Aunt Kate says. She steps around a pile of boxes to take in the view. “It’s perfect!”
“The movers brought in the boxes, but I haven’t unpacked much.” Ryan grins. “I figured you’d have to rearrange everything if I did. I did tackle the beds, though. Nic, yours is up the stairs, the second room on the right. If you don’t like it, we can move you tomorrow. We’re down here.”
The thought of unpacking drains my last bit of energy. I lead the way upstairs with Aunt Kate and Ryan following me. The house has chased all her fatigue away as she dashes around with great excitement.
I shuffle into the room. My stuff is in a pile of boxes across from the bed. The open curtains of the one window reveal the driveway, away from the valley.
This is my room now. Boxes unopened like memories unpacked. Bare walls like my bare heart.
Aunt Kate peeks in my room and then darts out. As I watch her go, I remember what Ryan said.
“What camping trip?” I ask Ryan. My irritation is growing, although I don’t know why. Maybe because too much is happening too quickly.
“After church.” Ryan leans on the doorframe. “I thought it would be something fun to do before school starts.”
“Fun,” I say dryly. I roll my eyes, but Ryan misses it. “No showers. No electricity. Lots of bugs. That kind of fun?”
Ryan grins. “Exactly! You’ll love it!” He turns to watch Aunt Kate explore down the hall.
He misses my sarcasm. His normal cheerfulness usually picks me up and makes me forget all the awful things in my life. But not now.
Everything is going too fast.
That demon I saw. New town with nothing that I like. New house with stacks of boxes. Spooky creatures in the woods. Camping.
I want to go home.
But not the home we left in Chicago. The home before I lost Mom. I want to be normal again, like back when I had a mom and a dad, not an aunt and uncle who are trying way too hard to make me happy. I know I bring them down with all of my issues.
Why did Dad have to...?
I stop that thought dead in its tracks. I broke one rule tonight. I can’t break another one. I will not ask the why questions.
I kick at the pile of boxes closest to me. None of this is my fault! I didn’t make Dad do what he did. And I certainly didn’t start the incident at school, even though I held the weapon. Why should I be punished?
Is the past going to follow me here? Can I really escape it by moving across the country?
I flop down on the bed and start to unpack my backpack. The end table next to the bed is the same one I used in Chicago. I grab my book and flip through it for the picture that always sits beside my bed.
It’s not there.
I dump my bag out on the bed and throw my clothes and books to the side. The picture is gone.
“Where’s my picture?” I ask, not even trying to keep the panic out of my voice.
“You mean the one of you and your mom?” Ryan responds while Aunt Kate returns to my room. “Did you pack it in the boxes or bring it with you?”
“With me, of course!” I snap. “Aunt Kate, did you see it this morning? You checked the hotel room!”
“I didn’t see it,” she replies, worry filling her eyes. “You must have it somewhere.”
“Well, I don’t!” I don’t care about anything now except finding it. “I’ve got to have it! It’s the last time Mom and I had a picture taken.”
“I know, Nic.” Aunt Kate sounds weary. “It was my idea to frame it, remember? I’m sure we’ll find it!”
I groan as the memory returns. “No, we won’t. I left it on the end table in the hotel. I didn’t get it.”
“We could call,” Aunt Kate suggests.
“I’m sure the maid wouldn’t keep a worn, old picture of people she doesn’t know.” The words are too loud and too strong. I have to control my temper. But I’m losing it.
“Did you keep a receipt or anything with their number on it?” Ryan asks. “Because we don’t have cell phones or internet to look that up yet.”
Aunt Kate’s brown eyes widen, and then she slowly shakes her head. I punch the bed in frustration. Aunt Kate raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything about my display of anger.
“We’ll go to the library in the morning and look it up, okay?” she says. “It will turn up. Let’s get some sleep. We have lots to do before our camping trip.”
“I’m not going on a stupid camping trip, and I’m not going to your dumb church!” I’m shouting, and I don’t even care. I just want my picture.
“Let’s get some rest.” Ryan tries to smooth it over. “Then we’ll talk.”
“You mean you’ll talk,” I snap and hate myself for it. Ryan doesn’t deserve it. I try to keep the anger out of my voice, but I fail miserably. “That’s all you do. You never listen!”
Ryan tries to smile, but I can see the hurt and worry in his eyes. I feel wretched as I watch him close the door, but right now I don’t think I can keep myself from being rude.
Aunt Kate calls her goodnight through the door as they make their way downstairs. They’re whispering, probably talking about me. Then there’s a giggle and Ryan’s chuckle. I flop onto the bed.
Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry, and I miss you so much! I miss you more now. The places filled with you are gone. And my last reminder of you is gone.
I groan.
It’s just a picture.
But I have to find it! Would there be a negative somewhere in all our boxes? I blink back the tears that rise when I think about our last night. Mom used the old camera so she could set up the timer and get both of us together. It was the week before she died, and we were in the park.
It’s just a picture.
But I miss her so much right now. Everything that reminds me of her is gone. I can’t look at her face and pretend like I’m talking to her, telling her about my new place.
I go to the window to shut the curtains but take a last look. All I see is what the porch light illuminates, so I begin to lower the shade as I scan the driveway.
In the trees, the figure steps out from the trees into the porch light.
Another one? Or is it what I saw before?
I lean back, trying to hide and see at the same time. From the way the figure moves, I know it is the same one I saw earlier. My heart beats faster. The figure stops when the light hits his face.
It’s the pale dark-haired man I saw on the top of the movie theater with the demon.
He regards the house for a moment. Before I can yell at Ryan that there’s someone outside, the man in the driveway jumps and tears down the driveway without
looking back at the house. I watch until I’m certain he’s gone.
The lights outside the house flip off, leaving me blind. I lower the shade, wrestling with the tangle of string.
Flopping down on the bed, I glance around the room. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m here. I sigh and reach over to turn off the lamp, looking back to where Mom’s picture is supposed to sit.
As my hand reaches for the light, I freeze. Nothing was on the end table seconds ago. But now there’s something on it.
The picture with Mom and me is propped up on the lamp. I know for certain I left it behind, and nothing was on the end table a few seconds ago. I glance around the room, even though I know it’s ridiculous to think someone came in without me seeing them.
How can it be here? No one else was in the room. Who could have put it here?
I pick it up and run my fingers over it, knowing it’s the same picture. There’s the crease of where I folded it once by accident in my book. On the other side, there’s the small stain where I told Aunt Kate I dripped some water on it, but it was really my tears.
I turn off the lamp, but I can’t sleep. If demons haunt me, is there something out there that helps me? Like angels?
My questions cause old memories and feelings to stir...
I feel her long dark hair, still warmed by the sun, soft under my fingertips. The smell of rotten eggs chokes me, but the scent of the grass in Mom’s hair is stronger. My heart pounds so hard it aches, and the red blood mixes into a ghastly pink while it trickles to my feet...
I toss back and forth.
Please, God, not now.
The prayer escapes my lips and shocks me. I haven’t prayed for years. But the memories ebb away, and I win another battle with the darkness.
If being alone beside Mom’s lifeless body, sitting in her blood, waiting for the ambulance and the police to arrive was the loneliest moment of my life, this was the second loneliest.
Devil's Pathway Page 3