After turning off the television, Kees rose and stalked over to the window that looked out onto the street. He expected Ella home any minute now, and he had plans for his little human’s return. At some point they might even make time for those magic lessons, but first he intended to take her again and demonstrate in no uncertain terms that sneaking away and leaving terse notes was not acceptable morning behavior.
The patience that came so easily during Kees’s long periods of slumber eluded him now, and it took a concerted amount of effort to keep from leaving the apartment and going after his tardy human. He knew she must be getting close to the apartment, since he’d witnessed her schedule through all of last week, but logic offered him little comfort. Instead, he had to rely on sheer determination to get him through the waiting. He propped his shoulder against the window frame and settled down to watch for her.
Ten minutes later her familiar petite form stepped into view and moved toward the apartment. She wore a long coat and a hat against the slight chill, but he recognized her shape and the way she moved. Of course, if he’d doubted the accuracy of his eyes, the squeezing of his chest would have told him exactly who approached. Only Ella made him feel like this—alive, aware, with a heart of beating flesh, not cold, ragged stone.
Ella disappeared beneath the awning that sheltered the windows of the small boutique on the ground floor, as well as the door to the interior tenant stairs. Despite himself, he began ticking off the minutes it would take her to unlock the outer door, climb the two flights of stairs, and reach the apartment where he waited.
Impatience sent him striding across the room. If he met her at the door, he could open it for her and save the precious seconds it would take her to fit her key in the lock and send the tumblers into action.
He nearly had his hand on the knob when the sound of voices stopped him. Frowning, he heard Ella’s feminine tones, then something lower. A man. His little human wasn’t alone.
When he pulled the door open, he wore his human body and a penetrating stare. The stare became a glare when he recognized one of the figures that accompanied his female. Detective McQuaid looked just as happy to see him as Kees was to see the detective.
“Kees.” Ella smiled at him, the expression slightly strained at the edges, but then, he knew what her genuine smile looked like. He doubted the humans would notice.
“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he said, deliberately leaning down to brush his lips over hers, staking a visual claim in front of the flirtatious policeman. “You’re late. I was starting to worry.”
“Buses,” she explained, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the old-fashioned tree behind the door. “You remember Detective McQuaid, don’t you? He was at the museum last week about the missing statue.”
“I remember.” Kees nodded at the human. He didn’t offer to shake hands, having no desire to make the visitor appear welcome. “Detective.”
“Mr. Livingston, wasn’t it?” McQuaid nodded curtly in reply and gestured to the shorter, stockier man behind him. “This is my partner, Detective Harker.”
Again, Kees jerked his chin, but he said nothing more.
Ella stepped close to him and leaned into his side. His arm immediately came around her.
She looked up with another of those not-quite smiles. “The detectives were waiting for me downstairs. I think they have a few more questions about the museum theft.” She turned back to the intruders. “I’m happy to tell you whatever I can, but I think we covered most of it already. Can I, uh, offer the two of you coffee? That’s what people always do on TV, right? Offer coffee to the police.”
“Thanks, but we’re good,” McQuaid said with one of his pretty boy smiles. “This won’t take long.”
Kees lifted an eyebrow and didn’t move. He stood just feet from the front door, blocking the police from moving any farther into the apartment. If this wouldn’t take long, they didn’t need to get comfortable. Besides, he could feel Ella’s tension as she pressed up against him. She was nervous for some reason, and the only reason he could think of was because the detectives made her uncomfortable. That did little to endear them to him.
“Fire away,” she said, her voice falsely cheerful.
McQuaid reached into his coat pocket and drew out a small pad and a pen. His eyes swept a casual glance around the apartment—or what he could see of it around Kees’s physical wall—before they turned back to Ella.
“Can you describe for me again exactly what you saw as you were leaving the museum gardens last Friday night?”
Ella frowned, her lips pursing as she called up the memory. Kees looked from her face to McQuaid’s, then over to the partner’s. Harker’s. The partner wasn’t watching Ella. He wasn’t even watching McQuaid. No, Detective Harker appeared to be taking an avid interest in Ella’s interior decorating scheme.
His gaze drifted over the framed art on the walls and the bookcases that overflowed with both fiction and nonfiction titles. He looked briefly toward the open bedroom door, but Kees had left the lights off, so there wasn’t much to see there. He appeared to note the alcove that was meant to contain a dining set and instead held Ella’s desk and computer, along with a multifunction printer. He circled around to the small kitchen, separated from the main space by a peninsula counter, then turned back to the main living area.
Kees saw Harker’s gaze skim the comfortable sofa and the overstuffed armchair that sat beside it. In the periphery of his awareness he heard McQuaid ask another question, then a third, and heard Ella’s calm replies. What he didn’t hear was her relaxing. Normally, when a person repeated a familiar story multiple times, they relaxed into the telling, because telling the truth was easy. Only liars stayed alert and on edge.
Liars, and people who sensed something wasn’t right.
Even as the thought occurred to him, Kees saw Harker’s gaze stop on the edge of his field of vision just where Kees’s big frame created a blank space. He knew what was back there, the center of the sofa and most of the coffee table. And on the coffee table sat a stack of very old books with unique bindings and memorable titles.
Books of Warden magic.
He acted even before he thought. Using his arm around Ella’s shoulder, he yanked her with him as he jumped backwards, using his Guardian athleticism to launch them over the table and sofa, putting the furniture between him and the men he no longer believed to be detectives. He twisted to put Ella behind him and faced off against two men who now wore expressions of open menace, one of whom had a very large gun pointed at his chest.
“You’re a Warden?” McQuaid demanded, his mouth curling into a sneer as his finger tightened on the trigger of his weapon. “I knew there was something not right about you, Livingston. I knew it right from the beginning. And here it was the girl’s magic I sensed. Are you supposed to be girl’s mentor? I didn’t think there were enough of you left to take on new projects. But don’t worry, I’m happy to take her off your hands. We think she’ll make a valuable member of our team. After a little persuasion, of course.”
Kees felt Ella shift behind him and heard her angry shout. He braced his arm out to keep her from stepping forward.
“Who are you really, Detective McQuaid?” she demanded. “Do you even work for the police department?”
“Of course I do, but that’s only part-time. You see, my real boss doesn’t mind me doing a little moonlighting. In fact, he encourages it. Nothing like having the cops in your pocket when you rise up to destroy the world.”
His laugh sounded like a donkey braying, and Kees felt disgust welling within him. “You’ll never get to meet your master, nocturnis,” he growled. “If he puts one slimy tentacle out of the prison I made for him, I’ll cut it off and send him right back to the abyss where he belongs.”
McQuaid’s gaze widened and his mouth fell open as Kees shifted and unfolded his enormous wings.
“Guardian!” The man shouted and pulled the trigger on his weapon.
Ella screamed, but Kee
s ignored the burn as the bullet scraped over his stony skin and tumbled to the ground. When he was in his natural form, bullets couldn’t penetrate his tough hide, and only enchanted blades had the chance to cut through to actual flesh. That’s what made the Guardians effective warriors. They were invulnerable to almost all human weapons, resistant to magic, and only a powerful demon could cause them serious harm. The close-range shot from McQuaid’s service revolver had stung and left a small burn, but Kees barely noticed.
For the first time since entering the apartment, McQuaid’s supposed partner spoke, and Kees did not like the sound of what he had to say. The words weren’t English, but Sulaal, an ancient demonic tongue, one used only by demons themselves and their nocturnis servants, and exclusively used for worship and Dark magic.
Kees turned to bare his fangs at Harker, intending to silence him quickly before he could complete his spell, but a motion on his other side distracted him.
McQuaid tossed aside his gun and reached down to grab a knife from a concealed sheath in his boot. From the way the metal shone dull and dark in the lamplight, Kees knew the blade had been dipped in blood and bound with Dark enchantments. That could possibly sting.
Kees glanced from McQuaid to Harker and back again, assessing which presented the bigger threat. Then McQuaid leapt forward and made the decision for him. The fair-haired nocturnis slashed his dagger across Kees’s forearm, carving deep enough to draw blood. The wound wasn’t serious, but it distracted him enough that he didn’t see Harker move until it was nearly too late.
While McQuaid bellowed and attacked again, the stocky Dark mage moved quickly into the room, circling the armchair until he could see behind the sofa to where Ella crouched, her eyes glued to the violent struggle between the gargoyle and the nocturnis.
Kees roared in fury and fear. He drew his arm back and struck out at McQuaid, his claws raking across the man’s shoulder before he clenched his fist and struck another heavy blow to his chest. The demon’s servant flew back and crashed into the apartment door, crumpling to the floor in a heap.
But it was too late to stop Harker.
The nocturnis had Ella directly in his sights and his spell was complete. Kees screamed a denial, but his gut clenched in terror. He knew he was too late.
Time seemed to slow down. He watched, horrified, and the Dark mage raised his hands and sent a bolt of thick black energy straight at Ella’s heart.
Then his little human astounded him.
Whether alerted by his cry or some sixth sense of her own, Ella turned in time to see Harker lift his hands, already glowing with black light. Her own hands flew up, as if they could ward off a magical attack. But Ella had hidden depths even Kees hadn’t yet plumbed. Instead of waiting for the Dark bolt to hit her, Ella briefly clasped her hands together, then pulled them apart and with sudden force, slamming her hands against the air before her with her fingers spread wide.
“Speculum intentus!” she shouted, and a flare of blue-white energy rippled between her hands just before the bolt made impact.
The nocturnis spell slammed into Ella’s sheet of magic and stuck like pitch. For an instant it writhed like a fly in a spider web; then the bright energy wrapped itself around the darkness and went winging back toward Harker.
The man didn’t even have time to scream.
The combined magics hit him square in the chest, and he collapsed in a dead weight.
Ella gasped and fell to her knees. Kees instinctively moved to catch her, cursing when his mistake gave the fallen McQuaid time to regain his feet. But instead of renewing his attack, the nocturnis detective wrenched the door open and pounded down the stairs and out into the street.
Kees swore again and went to Ella.
“Are you all right?” he demanded, taking hold of her arms and raising her gently to her feet. “Were you hurt?”
She shook her head, but she didn’t look at him. Her gaze was fixed at beyond him on the motionless figure on her floor. “What about him? What did I do to him?”
Kees didn’t bother to look. He knew the spellcaster was dead. “You did nothing wrong, Ella. Nothing. He was nocturnis, and he tried to kill you.”
“So I killed him instead.” She nodded and shuddered violently. “I didn’t know that’s what would happen. I swear I didn’t. I read the spell last night, and the book said it would only return the other person’s original intent. It wasn’t supposed to kill him.”
Kees yanked her against his body and wrapped her up in his arms. Instinctively, his wings curled around his sides to enclose her more fully in this embrace. To shelter her from the world.
“It killed him because his intent was to kill you, sweet girl. You did nothing wrong,” he repeated.
She nodded and buried her face against his chest, but her body wouldn’t stop shaking, and Kees knew from experience that they had decisions to make.
“Ella, look at me,” he commanded, and she raised her face to his, her eyes wet with tears, her lips trembling despite her tightly clenched jaw. His little human had such a tender heart. “We can’t stay here. McQuaid ran out before I could stop him. That means the nocturnis now know what I am and that I’m with you. They also know that you have at least some magical ability, enough to cast that spell. They’ll come back, and soon.”
Ella groaned. “Oh, God, and McQuaid said he really is a police officer. What if Harker was, too? What if I killed a cop, Kees? Harker’s dead, and even without a body, they could still come after me. They’ll put me in prison. What if McQuaid comes back with more police?”
“Just another reason why we need to get moving. You need to pack a bag, Ella, and I need to think of a safe place for us to stay, at least temporarily.”
Kees’s mind was already racing. He couldn’t contact the Guild for the address of a safe house, so he needed to think creatively.
Ella nodded and stepped back out of his arms. Her palms rubbed up and down against the legs of her jeans and she appeared somehow smaller than usual. The events of the last hour had taken their toll.
“Where are we going?” she asked softly.
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll figure it out while you pack. It has to be somewhere out of the way, and someplace that isn’t obviously connected to all of us. I’m certain the nocturnis can find us eventually—there are spells that can locate people, if nothing else—but there’s no reason to make it easy for them.”
She stared up at his face, taking in his tense expression and the worry he knew must be flickering in his eyes. He saw her hesitate, and then draw back her shoulders and straighten her spine, as if she were bracing herself for something.
“I think I know a place.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ella hadn’t been back to the cabin since she was twelve years old, and if she’d had her way, she never would have returned. Too bad Fate kept robbing her of those choices.
She could have blamed Kees for making her go, since he had jumped on the idea as soon as she described the location to him and informed him the property wasn’t recorded under her name, but in the name of a trust her parents had set up before their deaths. Because it was remote and untraceable, the Guardian had declared it perfect. Ella wanted to curse him, but she was the one who had brought it up in the first place. It was her own fault, but she hadn’t been thinking clearly.
Apparently, killing a man could do that to her.
The clock on the dashboard of her third rental car in a little over a week told Ella that they’d passed midnight along with the little town of Sechelt. Now the struggle to find a four-wheel drive at nine thirty at night would start to prove its value.
Turning off the last paved road, Ella followed the semi-graveled lane for another couple of miles before she pulled onto the even more rugged logging road, which quickly petered into something more appropriately labeled a trail. By the time she pulled to a stop in front of the small, dark structure nestled in the trees, her bones hurt from bouncing up and down over the uneven terrain. Or maybe
they just hurt because everything else did, from her head to her heart.
“This is it,” she said. There was no reason for the announcement. Clearly, they had arrived at their destination, but Ella was stalling for time. She even knew she was. Maybe it would be better to just get it over with. The first few minutes would be the hardest, right?
Kees climbed out of the now mud-splattered truck and circled the rear of the vehicle to stand beside her. A large human hand settled on her shoulder and squeezed.
“Are you all right, little one?”
Ella forced herself to offer up a weak smile. “I’m fine. I just … I haven’t been here for a while. That’s all. I hope everything’s still working. Someone’s supposed to maintain the place, but—” She shrugged. “I should check the generator first.”
That way, she could avoid going into the cabin for another two minutes, at least.
Kees said nothing else, but he followed her to the small lean-to at the rear of the log structure and waited while she checked the gauge on the propane tank, then started the machine. It roared to life quickly and efficiently, fast enough that Ella had to beat back the memories.
“Looks good,” she murmured, closing the door and heading back to the front of the cabin. So much for delaying tactics. Time to bite the bullet.
She led Kees up the steps of the wide front porch and stood on her tiptoes to reach the top of the doorframe. The key, balanced on the ledge of wood as always, slid easily into her hand. She felt the gargoyle’s curious gaze and shrugged.
“Nothing all that valuable ever gets left up here. Besides, if some lost hiker or injured kayaker ever needed help and found the place, they’d be welcome to come in and use the radio to call for assistance. Out in the woods, people have to help each other out sometimes.”
Heart of Stone Page 21
