Gods Of The Stone Oracle [Book 6]

by Krista Walsh

  “We’ll leave you here for a while, with your loyalty and the rats for company,” the smooth voice said from beyond the door. “Once you change your mind, just shout for someone. They might hear you. Until then, you can look forward to rotting alone in the dark.” He snorted. “Who would bother coming for a broken creature like you?”

  Chuckling, his voice faded as his footsteps struck against the stone away from her cell. There was a creak of rusted iron, and then a slam as another door closed, leaving Molly alone in her nightmare.

  2

  Zachariel kept to the shadows as he made his way along the quiet suburban streets. On a Friday night, the crowds were centered around the shopping center and movie theaters, leaving the residential areas deserted, just as he liked them. A few weeks ago at this time, the parks would have been full of kids running around, expelling energy before bed, but the season had finally begun to change — for real this time — and the sky was getting dark, the wind brisk.

  Friday or not, he normally would have avoided this part of town until the small hours of the morning, but his nerves chirped with uneasiness, and he knew he wouldn’t feel settled until he’d taken up his place outside Molly Harris’s house to make sure she was all right.

  As part of his daily security routine since he’d moved out of the abandoned trade college, Zach had done a tour of New Haven Trade and Technology to see if anyone had come looking for him. Up until today, there had been no sign of the demons who had tried to take him by force to work for the mysterious Mayzell Industries.

  When he’d stopped by this afternoon, however, his prior living space had been torn apart. The blankets he’d left behind had been ripped to shreds, and no box had been left unturned. They’d even destroyed the defunct boiler.

  Had they been looking for him? Hoping to find some clue of where he might have gone after they’d driven him out of his haven? The discovery had left him worried for Molly.

  No doubt the girl was planning to swing by Peony House, New Haven’s abandoned hospital and his new hideout, to spend time with Dusty, not to mention make another attempt at her less-than-subtle project of getting him to talk about his feelings over everything that had happened — a subject he had no deep desire to dwell on. He couldn’t prevent her from visiting, but he intended to escort her there whenever she was ready to leave.

  He turned the corner onto Molly’s street, and his steps began to drag as a weight sank in his stomach. A man and a woman were pacing across the Harris’s front lawn, their arms waving as they spoke to each other in rushed tones.

  As soon as his initial shock of surprise had passed, Zach bolted across the street to the trees lining the park and peered around the trunks to get a better view of the house.

  “Molly?” a woman shouted, her hands cupped around her mouth, her voice touched with a panic only a mother could project. Zach worked to remember her name. Dana?

  The same weave of curls as her daughter’s, though they were dark instead of blond, blew wild in the evening breeze, and her eyes, so familiar in shape, were wide with fear. She stormed back and forth across the grass, staring down one end of the street and then the other, as though hoping one more pass would be the one that brought her daughter into view.

  Behind her, a tall man with thin blond hair, black-framed glasses, and a bit of a paunch was on the phone. Zach guessed he was Fred, Molly’s father. The lines around his mouth were hard and his fingers kept tapping against his thigh. Every now and then he shoved his hand through his hair, and eventually he hung up the phone and squeezed it at his side, shaking his head at Dana. Her shoulders drooped.

  Although Zach had never met Molly’s parents — the possibility of it happening had never even occurred to him — he felt as though he knew them by the amount Molly talked about them. From everything she’d said, they were down-to-earth, rational people. For them to be acting like this, the girl hadn’t just taken a walk to the store.

  Zach’s heart lurched uncomfortably as he completed his own scan of the street. What had happened? Had she left early to go to Peony House? It didn’t seem likely, especially not without leaving her parents with some comforting lie.

  He rubbed his fingers over his bald head, his fingertips tracing the deep scars running down the right side of his face, then curled his hand against his thigh.

  She probably went to see that friend of hers and forgot to leave a note.

  He tried to picture her sitting around the guy’s basement, laughing with him, hale and whole, completely oblivious to the distress she was causing her parents. Wasn’t that what teenagers were supposed to do?

  But despite his attempts to convince himself that Molly was just that irresponsible, he knew better. She could be rash, sure, but not cruel.

  There was also the fact that Molly never went anywhere without her phone. If her parents were this worried, it had to mean they weren’t able to reach her.

  Zach had to get out of here. He could figure out other ways of tracking the girl down, and speaking with her parents would be useless. After all, what excuse would he have for wanting to help? He hardly looked like an innocent bystander, and a thirty-seven-year-old man’s concern for a teenage girl would likely come off as twisted instead of sincere.

  Yet even as he thought it, his subconscious took over his body and brought him a few steps forward. He tried to back away, but reason propelled him toward the house. If something had happened to Molly, he needed to know.

  And if it did turn out that she’d simply gone off on a whim, he would track her down and lecture her until her cochlears caught fire.

  He crossed the street toward the pair standing on the lawn. The closer he got, the more Dana’s pacing slowed, her gaze locking on him. The expression on her face struck Zach as significant. Although they had never met, there seemed to be a hint of recognition in her brown eyes.

  “Can we help you?” Fred asked. He came to stand behind his wife, his arms crossed.

  “I heard you calling for Molly. Is something wrong?” Zach asked, the words out of his mouth before he could consider the wisdom of speaking them.

  The man’s mouth fell open, but before he could say anything, the phone rang. He rested his hand on Dana’s shoulder as he answered it. “Molly?” In a breath, the hope seeped out of his eyes. “Hey, Sam,” he said. “No, nothing yet. Her phone? I—I’m not sure. She hasn’t answered, but good idea. I’ll check again.”

  He gave Zach a wary stare, then brushed his fingers over Dana’s shoulder before he headed into the house.

  Zach turned his attention to Molly’s mother. She was staring at him with such intensity, he could feel her gaze as pinpricks on his skin. Steel lined her brown irises, and her jaw was clenched so hard the muscles bulged.

  “What happened?” he asked her.

  For a moment there was no answer, but then she seemed to unwire her jaws. “You.”

  Zach refrained from stepping backward, though surprise had stopped his heart for a breath.

  Dana’s nostrils flared and her skin flushed. “Are you the reason she’s missing?”

  Zach had no idea what to say. Anger squeezed his insides, but he shoved it down. It wouldn’t help him here.

  Dana dropped her hands by her sides and closed the gap between them. “I’ve seen you lurking around the house in the evenings, watching my daughter. Are you some pervert stalking her? Did you sneak into the house and grab her? Where is she?”

  She shoved her palms into Zach’s chest, but the force wasn’t enough to shift his balance.

  “Or is it more than that?” she demanded, shoving him again. “I see what you are. You’re not normal, are you? You’re not human. You’re the reason my daughter wasn’t surprised by the truth of her deafblindness. Did you take her? What do you want?”

  She shoved him a third time, tears now streaming down her cheeks as the volume of her voice grew louder. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and Zach did nothing as she struck at him. He couldn’t. Rage had filtered through his vein
s, making him see red, and it was taking all his effort to keep his demon blood restrained.

  How dare this woman accuse him of things she had no way of understanding?

  She’s a mother afraid for her daughter, his rational voice reminded him, and he clung to that thought as he worked to calm down.

  Yet beneath the anger drifted a colder fury that was even harder to ignore. It rose on a wave of white heat, reacting to the fact that this woman, this human, knew of his world. She was one among three he’d met in the last week, and the desire to wipe her out for the sake of keeping the otherworld’s secret nearly forced his hand around the blade threatening to grow out of his arm.

  He sucked in a breath and channeled the anger in another direction, reminding himself of the otherness running through this woman’s blood, just as it ran through her daughter’s. Not a direct link, but curse-touched. He forced himself to remember how badly this family had already been affected by otherworldly beings who should have known better. With them, there was room for mercy.

  Slowly, the anger faded into a cooling wave of compassion, and he allowed his mind to slip deeper into that current. The white iciness crept through him, replacing the heat, and the farther he traveled along it, the calmer the woman in front of him seemed to become.

  Eventually, she stopped hitting him and buried her face in her hands. Zach didn’t move, focused only on allowing his angelic calm to pass into her. Never in his life had he believed his angel blood good for anything, but finally it was serving a purpose. Dana’s breathing slowed, evened out, and after a moment, she raised her gaze to his, her eyes full of awe.

  “Who are you?” she asked, her voice now little more than a whisper.

  “I’m a friend,” he said. He debated leaving it at that, but by the way she stared at him, he understood there was no point in hiding from her. From what Molly had told him of her family history, this woman knew what lay beyond the surface of the mundane world. He believed her when she said she saw through him. Holding back would destroy any chance of trust he might hope to build with her, and if he wanted to help find Molly, he needed her to believe him. “A year ago, your daughter saved my life. She elbowed her way into my world and refused to take no for an answer.”

  Dana sniffed and wiped her tears away with the heel of her palm. “That sounds like Molly.”

  “I’ve done what I can to keep her safe,” he said. “She can be brazenly stupid, but she’s strong and courageous. I’m sure she’s fine, but I want to make sure of it. Tell me what’s happening.”

  Molly’s mother stared at him a moment longer, her gaze searching his as though trying to find some hint that he was lying to her, then she exhaled sharply and wobbled forward. Zach set his hands on her shoulders to stabilize her, continuing to pass his energy between them. It seemed to be helping, and he figured a calm Dana would be far more helpful than a hysterical one.

  “I don’t know,” she said, then sniffled. “We were downstairs in the kitchen, and I heard a crash from her room. It sounded like something being thrown against the wall. I called up to her to ask if she was all right, and she said she was. I had no reason not to believe her. But then…”

  She trailed off, and fresh tears welled in her eyes. Her lips trembled and she pressed them together, performing another scan of the street as she worked to compose herself. Zach didn’t push her, though his patience strained against his desire to act.

  Finally Dana released a long breath through her pursed lips, then cleared her throat and continued. “A few minutes later I — I heard what sounded like a scream. It was sharp and quick. Enough that I second-guessed what I heard, but something in my gut told me it wasn’t right. I ran upstairs, and when I opened the door, she wasn’t there. I don’t know where she might have gone. We were in the kitchen, so she couldn’t have gone out the front door, and her window was closed.”

  She flinched, and Zach realized he’d closed his fingers around her shoulders. He dropped his hands to his sides, staying close enough for his presence to continue its work on Dana’s mental state, and stared up at the house.

  “What about the back door?” he asked.

  Dana wiped her eyes and pulled a tissue out of her pocket to dab her nose. “Maybe? I thought she might have stepped out to practice her archery in the backyard, but there’s no sign of her. Her bow is still in its case.” She sniffled, and her throat worked. “And her shoes are still at the front door.”

  Fred stepped outside, his expression even tenser than it had been when he’d gone in. “Steve called after I hung up with Sam. He hasn’t heard from Molly since some text messages this morning. She was supposed to text him around eight to go through their calculus homework, but she never got in touch. I checked, and her phone is still upstairs.”

  Dana sobbed, and Zach returned his hand to her shoulder.

  Fred’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, who are you again?”

  “Fred, this is a friend of Molly’s.”

  “A friend?” Fred asked. “Aren’t you a little old to be friends with a teenage girl without her parents knowing about it?”

  “Fred,” Dana snapped, “this is hardly the time. He’s not from our world, he’s from theirs, and he just wants to help.”

  Her transformation from distraught to angry reminded Zach so much of Molly it was as though he’d seen into the girl’s future. He already sympathized with the man she chose to marry.

  Dana’s words appeared to have a magical effect on Fred. His face paled and his hands went slack at his sides.

  “I see. In that case, thank you,” he said. The civility sounded forced. Zach suspected it wasn’t because he didn’t believe his wife, but because he had yet to come to terms with the fact that there was a divide between his world and the other. For now, he was faking it, hoping that one day everything would make sense. Zach understood the desire.

  “I’m Fred Harris,” Molly’s father said, extending his hand.

  “Zach.” Zach considered the hand and reluctantly took hold of it. The man’s palm was firm if slightly clammy, which he couldn’t fault him for under the circumstances. “I wonder if it might be possible to see Molly’s room?”

  Her parents exchanged a glance, and he realized how his request might sound. He refrained from scowling and said, “If that’s where she went missing, there might still be a trace of her energy left behind. Something that might give me an idea of where she went.”

  Dana’s eyes widened. “Oh. Yes, of course. This way.”

  She led the way inside, while Fred fell back to follow Zach. It was an awkward walk through the front doors into the warm, brightly lit kitchen. He imagined the family sitting around the walnut table top, chatting about their day over the meals Molly would later sneak into her backpack and bring to him and Dusty after her parents went to bed.

  They navigated their way past the split-level living room with the backyard beyond. The farther they moved into the house, the more attention Zach paid to his escape routes, an ingrained habit. His shoulders tensed as they headed up the carpeted stairs to the second floor, and he scanned the surroundings. Bathroom to the right of the stairs, closet up ahead. A glimpse of the master bedroom around the stairs to his left.

  Dana opened the door to the left of the hall closet, revealing Molly’s bedroom within.

  “This is it. I’m sorry for the mess. Kids at this age…” She stopped herself short and pressed the crook of her finger to her top lip. Fred came around and rested his hands on her shoulders, pulling her close.

  Zach left them to comfort each other and stepped into the girl’s space. Part of him felt it was only fair that he see how she lived considering how often she intruded on him, but mostly he felt as though he were violating her privacy. He never would have considered coming into this room under any other circumstances. If she had invited him, he would have declined. After spending his entire life keeping to himself, the act of stepping into her world was more than he was comfortable with.

  But desperate t
imes…

  He looked around the room and was struck by how normal it all looked. The computer desk sat to the left of the door, with a desktop monitor against the wall and a braille display set up in front of the keyboard. The deep leather chair had been pulled away from the desk, its cracked and worn seat suggesting the girl spent a lot of time there. Beside the computer desk stood a short bookshelf of braille and audio books. From the excited way she talked about her love of fictional characters, he guessed the bulk of her collection would be on her computer.

  On the end table sat an alarm clock, with a wire connected to something under her pillow. An empty glass of water rested beside it.

  The bedspread amused him — a bright mishmash of pink, orange, and brown. He wondered what she thought it looked like and if she’d like it.

  Her dresser stood across from the end of the bed, covered with a few makeup items, hair elastics, and ratty stuffed animals she’d probably held on to from the time she was born. On the floor beside the dresser was her archery case.

  The sight caused Zach’s throat to tighten. On wooden legs, he stepped over to it and swung it on top of the dresser.

  “We checked,” Fred said. “It’s all there.”

  Zach ground his teeth as he ran his fingers over the recurve bow lying within, the arrows all accounted for. Whatever had happened, it must have been quick. Molly hadn’t even had a chance to fight.

  For all he was learning about the girl in his quick sweep, he didn’t find anything about where she might have gone. The air was clear of energies that he could detect, and there were no obvious signs of a struggle.

  Frustration threatened to choke him, but he forced a breath out through his nose and turned to Molly’s parents.

  “Do you mind if I call in someone else who might be able to help?”

  “Anything,” Dana said, clasping her arms in front of her. “Whatever it takes.”