The Sign of Seven Trilogy

by Nora Roberts

  “Um, actually, Chief, she’s on the line. She just called in about, ah, an incident in front of her house.”

  Fox beamed a smile. “Isn’t it nice when private citizens do their public duty? Are you filing charges against my client, Chief?”

  This time Hawbaker scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a few minutes on that. I’m going to take this call in my office. Deputy, come with me. If y’all would just have a seat?”

  Fox sat, stretched out his legs. “Just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?” he said to Gage.

  “Apparently not.”

  “You either,” he said to his mother.

  “My boyfriend and I are badasses.”

  “He crossed the line with this,” Fox said quietly. “Hawbaker’s good police, he’s a good chief, and he’s not going to take it, not going to let it ride. If Jenny corroborates your statement, you’ve got grounds for those civil suits, and Hawbaker knows it. More, he knows he’s got a loose cannon on his hands in Napper.”

  “My girlfriend hadn’t come along, he would’ve done more. He was working himself up to it.” Gage leaned over, kissed Joanne’s cheek. “Thanks, honey.”

  “Cut that out or I’m telling my father.” Fox leaned closer to Gage. “Was it just Nap the Prick, or was it more?”

  “I can’t say for certain, but we all know Napper doesn’t need demonic help being a violent bastard. Just him, I think. He got worried when I mentioned I had plate numbers for about six cars that went by while he was shoving me around.”

  Gage glanced toward the closed office door when Napper’s voice boomed out. “Fuck you, then. I quit.” He burst out a moment later, rage burning in his eyes.

  Gage noted his sidearm was missing. “There won’t always be a slut around for you bastards to hide behind.” He slammed out the front door of the station.

  “Did he mean me or Jenny Mullendore was a slut?” Joanne wondered. “Because honestly, I don’t see how she has time for slut activities with those two preschoolers of hers. Me, I’ve got lots of time.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Fox patted her arm, then rose when Hawbaker stepped out of his office.

  “I want to apologize to you, Joanne, for the unacceptable behavior of one of my deputies. I’d appreciate it if you’d file that complaint. I’d like to apologize to you, Gage, on behalf of my department for the harassment. Mrs. Mullendore’s statement jibed with what you told me. I realize you’re within your rights to file a civil action. I will tell you that due to the circumstances, I suspended Deputy Napper, with the intention of conducting a full investigation of this matter. He has elected to resign from the department.”

  “That works for me.” Gage got to his feet.

  “Unofficially, I’m going to tell you, all of you—and you can pass this to Cal, because it seems to me Derrick sees you as one. You be careful. You watch your backs. He’s . . . volatile. I can have you taken back to your car, Gage, if you want.”

  “I’ve got that covered,” Fox told Hawbaker. “You watch your back, too. Napper holds grudges.”

  GAGE PLANNED TO HEAD STRAIGHT BACK TO CAL’S, grab a shower, some food, maybe some sleep. But impulse pushed him to the rental house. Cybil stood out front, in shorts and a tank that showed off long legs and long arms, and watered the pots and baskets of flowers scattered around the entrance.

  She lowered the big, galvanized can, and strolled down to meet him. “I heard you had a busy morning.”

  “No secrets in the Hollow.”

  “Oh, a few. Is everything all right now?”

  “I’m not in jail and Napper no longer works for the town police.”

  “Both good news.” She angled her head. “How pissed off are you? It’s difficult to tell.”

  “Only mildly at this point. During? I wanted to kick his ass out into the road and stomp on his face. It’s hard to resist that kind of pleasure. But . . .”

  “A man who controls himself has a better chance of winning.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, you won this one. Are you coming in, or passing by?”

  Step back, go home, Gage told himself. “Any chance of getting a meal around here?”

  “There might be. I guess you’ve earned it.”

  When she turned, Gage took her arm. “I wasn’t going to come here today. I don’t know why I did.”

  “For a meal?”

  He pulled her to him, took her lips with a hunger that had nothing to do with food. “No. I don’t know what this is, this you and me. I don’t know if I like it.”

  “At least we’re in step there because neither do I.”

  “If we’re alive come mid-July, I’m gone.”

  “So am I.”

  “Okay then.”

  “Okay. No strings on you, no strings on me.” But she brushed her hands through his hair and kissed him, warmly, again. “Gage, there are a lot more important things to worry about here than what this you-and-me thing might be.”

  “I don’t lie to women, and I don’t like to misdirect them either. That’s all.”

  “So noted. I don’t like to be lied to, but I have a habit of picking my own direction. Do you want to come in and have that meal?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  Thirteen

  HE PUT FLOWERS ON HIS MOTHER’S GRAVE, AND she reached up, a slim hand spearing through earth and grass, to take them. As Gage stood in the flood of sunlight, in the quiet cemetery with its somber stones, his heart slammed into his throat. Draped in innocent white, she ascended—pretty and pale from the maw of dirt—clutching the bouquet like a bride her wedding roses.

  Had they buried her in white? He didn’t know.

  “You used to bring me dandelions, and the wild butter-cups and violets that colored the little hill near our house in the summer.”

  His throat ached, straining to hold his trembling heart. “I remember.”

  “Do you?” She sniffed the roses, red as blood against her white dress. “It’s hard to know what little boys remember, what little boys forget. We used to take walks in the woods, and in the fields. Do you remember that?”

  “Yes.”

  “There are houses in the fields now, where we used to walk. But we could walk here, for a little while.”

  Her skirts billowed as she turned, and with his flowers cradled in the crook of her arm, began to walk. “There’s so little time left,” she said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back, not after what happened when you were here last.” She looked into his eyes. “I couldn’t stop it. It’s very strong, and getting stronger.”

  “I know that, too.”

  “I’m proud of you for staying, for being brave. Whatever happens, I want you to know I’m proud of you. If . . . If you fail, I’ll be waiting for you. I don’t want you to be afraid.”

  “It feeds on fear.”

  She looked at him again. A sleek black hornet crawled out from the delicate petals of a rose, but she looked nowhere but at him. “On many things. It’s had an eternity to develop its appetites. If you could stop it . . .”

  “We will stop it.”

  “How? There are only a few weeks left, such a little bit of time. What can you do this time you didn’t do before? Except be brave. What do you plan to do?”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  “You’re still looking for answers, with time running out.” Her smile was soft as she nodded, soft as a second hornet, then a third squirmed, black on red. “You were always a brave and stubborn boy. All those years your father had to punish you.”

  “Had to?”

  “What choice did he have? Don’t you remember what you did?”

  “What did I do?”

  “You killed me, and your sister. Don’t you remember? We were walking in the fields, just like this, and you ran. Even when I told you not to, you ran and ran, and fell. You cried so hard, poor little boy.” Her smile was full, and somehow luminous, as the roses disgorged hornets. And the hornets b
egan to hum.

  “Your knees were all scraped and scratched. So I had to carry you, and the weight of you, the strain of it, was too much for me. You see?”

  She spread her arms and the white gown blossomed with blood. Hornets swarmed in buzzing black clouds until even the roses bled. “Only a few days later, the blood and the pain. From you, Gage.”

  “It’s a lie.” It was Cybil who spoke, who was suddenly at his side. “You’re a lie. Gage, it’s not your mother.”

  “I know.”

  “She’s not so pretty now,” it said. “Want to see?”

  The white dress thinned to filthy rags over rotted flesh. It laughed and laughed as fat worms writhed through the flesh, as the flesh gave way to bone.

  “How about you?” it said to Cybil. “Want to see Daddy?”

  The bones re-formed into a man with sightless eyes and a charming grin. “There’s my princess! Come give Daddy a kiss!”

  “More lies.”

  “Oh, I can’t see! I can’t see! I can’t see what a worthless shit I am.” It laughed uproariously. “I chose death over you.” Hornets stabbed out to crawl at the corners of its grin. “Death was better than your constant need, your unrelenting, sickening love. Didn’t have to think twice before . . .” It mimed shooting a gun with its hand. And the side of its head exploded into a ruin of blood, bone, brain.

  “That’s the truth, isn’t it? Remember, bitch?” Its single blind eye rolled in its socket, then the image burst into flame. “I’m waiting for you, for both of you. You’ll burn. They all burn.”

  He woke with his hand clutching Cybil’s, and her eyes staring into his.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but stayed as she was when he sat up. Dawn spread milky light into the room as her breath shuddered in and out.

  “It wasn’t them,” she managed. “It wasn’t them, and it wasn’t the truth.”

  “No.” Because he thought they both needed it, he took her hand again. “How did you do that? Get into my dream?”

  “I don’t know. I could see you, hear you, but at first I was removed from it—not part of it. It was almost like watching a movie, or a play, but through a film, or a curtain. Like gauze. Then I was in it. I pushed . . .” Dissatisfied, she shook her head. “No, that’s not right, not really. It was less deliberate than that, more visceral. More like a flick, the way you’d give a curtain in your way an annoyed flick. I was so angry because I thought you believed what it was saying.”

  “I didn’t. I knew what it was from the start. Bluff me once,” Gage murmured.

  “You were playing it.” Cybil closed her eyes a moment. “You’re good.”

  “It’s looking for our hole card, wants to know what we’ve got. And it told us more than we told it.”

  “That there’s still time.” Now, she sat up beside him. “However strong it’s getting, however much it might be able to do, it still has to wait for the seventh for the real show.”

  “Give the lady a cigar. It’s about time for our bluff. Time to make the bastard believe we have more than we do.”

  “And we’d do that by . . . ?”

  Gage rose, went to the dresser, opened a drawer. “Bait.”

  Cybil stared at the bloodstone he held. “That’s supposed to be in a safe place, not knocking around in . . . Wait. Let me see it.”

  Gage tossed it casually in the air, then over to her.

  “This isn’t our bloodstone.”

  “No, I picked it up at a rock shop a few days ago. But it fooled you for a minute.”

  “It’s the same basic size, not quite the same shape. It might have power, too, Gage. The research I’ve done points to bloodstones as part of the Alpha Stone.”

  “It’s not ours. Not the one it’s worried about. It might be worthwhile finding out just how worried it is, and what it might do to get its hands on what it thinks is Dent’s bloodstone.”

  “And to see how pissed off it gets when it realizes—if it does—this is a substitute.”

  “Can’t be overstated. It’s used our pain against us, our tragedies. Let’s return the favor. The bloodstone helped Dent keep that thing under for three centuries. Stopped it in its tracks a good long while and set the stage for what we’re doing. That’s got to be one of the big losses.”

  “Okay. How do we con a demon?”

  “I’ve got some ideas.”

  She had some of her own, but they were down avenues her research had taken her, avenues she didn’t want to travel. So she kept her silence, and listened to his.

  A COUPLE HOURS LATER, CYBIL STORMED OUT OF Cal’s back door with sharp lashes of fury whipping from her. She spun around when Gage slammed out after her. “You’ve got no right, no right to make these plans, to make these decisions on your own.”

  “The hell I don’t. It’s my life.”

  “It’s all our lives!” she tossed back. “We’re supposed to work as a team. We’re meant to work as a team.”

  “Meant? I’m sick to death of this destiny crap you’re so high on. I make my own choices, and I deal with the results. I’m not going to let some ancient guardian make them for me.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Everything about her snapped out in angry frustration, voice, hands, eyes. “We all have choices. Aren’t we fighting, risking our lives, because Twisse takes away choice? But that doesn’t mean any of us can just forget why we were brought together like this and go off on his own.”

  “I am on my own. Always have been.”

  “Oh, screw that! You’re sick of destiny talk? Fine, I’m sick of your ‘I’m a loner and I don’t belong’ refrain. It’s boring. We’re bound by blood, all of us.”

  “Is that what you think?” In contrast to her heat, his tone was brittle and cold. “You think I’m bound to you, by anything? Didn’t we just cover this a little while ago? We’re having sex. That’s the beginning and the end of it. If you’re looking for more—”

  “You conceited ass. I’m talking about life and death and you’re worried about me trying to get my hooks in you? Believe me, outside of the bedroom, I wouldn’t have you on a bet.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. It might have been insult or challenge. It might have been hurt. “I’d take that bet, sister. I know your type.”

  “You don’t know—”

  “You want it all your way. You figure you’re so damn smart you can run the show and everyone in it. Nobody runs me. And when this is over, you think you can keep me on the line or cut me loose, at your whim. You’ve got the looks, the brains, the style, what man could resist you? Well, you’re looking at one.”

  “Is that so?” she said, her tone frigid. “Is what you were doing in bed with me last night your definition of resisting?”

  “No, that’s my definition of banging a willing and convenient woman.”

  Her angry color drained, but she inclined her head, regally. “In that case, you can consider me now unwilling and inconvenient, and do your substandard banging elsewhere.”

  “Part of the point. I go my way on this because this has all played out long enough for me. This fight, this town, you. All of it.”

  Her hands curled at her sides. “I don’t care how selfish you are, how stupid you are, after this is done. But before it is, you’re not going to jeopardize all the work we’ve done, all the progress we’ve made.”

  “Progress, my ass. Since you and your girl pals got here, we’ve been bogged down in charts, graphs, exploring our emotional thresholds, and other bullshit.”

  “Before we got here, you and your idiot brothers fumbled around on this for twenty years.”

  He backed her against the rail. “You haven’t lived through a Seven. You think you know? What you’ve dealt with so far’s been nothing. A few chills and spills. Wait until you see some guy disembowel himself, or try to stop some teenage girl from lighting the match after she’s poured gas all over herself and her baby brother. Then you talk to me about what I can do, what I can’t. You think seeing
your old man put a bullet in his ear makes you some kind of expert? That was quick and clean, and you got off easy.”

  “You son of a bitch.”

  “Suck it up.” His words were a slap, quick and careless. “If Twisse isn’t offed before the next Seven, you’re going to be dealing with a lot worse than a father who’d rather kill himself than stand up with his family.”

  She swung out, and there was enough behind the blow to have his head jerking back. With his ears ringing from it, he gripped her arms to ward off a second attack. “Do you want to talk about fathers, Gage? Do you really want to bring up fathers, considering your own?”

  Before he could respond, Quinn rushed out. “Hold it, hold it, hold it!”

  “Go back inside,” Cybil ordered, “this doesn’t concern you.”

  “The hell it doesn’t. What the hell’s wrong with you? Both of you?”

  “Step back, Gage.” Cal pushed through the door, with Fox and Layla behind him. “Just step back. Let’s go inside and talk this out.”

  “Back off.”

  “Okay, okay, that’s not the way to win friends and influence people.” Fox moved up, put a hand on Gage’s arm. “Let’s take a breath here and—”

  Gage shoved him off, knocked him back a step. “The back off goes for you, too, Peace and Love.”

  “You want to go a round with me?” Fox challenged.

  “Jesus!” Layla fisted her hands in her hair. “Stop! Just because Gage is being an idiot doesn’t mean you have to be one.”

  “Now I’m an idiot?” Fox rounded on Layla. “He shoves Cybil around, tells me to back off, and I’m an idiot.”

  “I didn’t say you were an idiot, I said you didn’t have to be an idiot. But apparently I’m wrong about that.”

  “Don’t start on me. I didn’t get this stupid ball rolling.”

  “I don’t care who got it rolling.” Cal held up his hands. “It stops here.”

  “Who gave you the gold star and put you in charge?” Gage demanded. “You don’t tell me what to do. We wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place without you and your ridiculous blood brothers ritual with your pussy Boy Scout knife.”