Stone and Claw: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

  “They are,” Barbara agreed. “I’ve only seen a couple of them—or maybe the same one twice. They’re really quite shy, and they have as much right to be here as we do.”

  “I notice you don’t feed them, though,” Hubbard commented.

  Stone chuckled and excused himself shortly after that, taking the opportunity when two more guests came out to talk with the hosts. He went back inside, idly looking for Garra, but didn’t see her. She couldn’t still be in the bathroom, could she? Had she already left? He felt guilty—he hadn’t intended to come on too strong, especially since he hadn’t been trying to show any sort of romantic interest. She’d made it clear she wasn’t interested, and in truth, he wasn’t either, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t construed his attention that way. Especially given the number of advances she probably had to fend off. If he could find her, he should probably offer a brief apology and then get the hell out of her way until she worked through whatever was bothering her.

  He couldn’t find her, though. A quick check of the living room, the atrium, and the kitchen revealed nothing but other groups of guests drinking, chatting, and examining the books on the table. Damn, he thought, his guilt increasing. Had he driven her from the party?

  Suddenly, he didn’t want to be there anymore. He’d only shown up to support Hubbard; normally he found work-related cocktail parties, full of small talk and people trying to impress each other, to be tiresome, and avoided them whenever he could get away with it. He’d made his appearance, and nobody would fault him for leaving early. If he headed home now, perhaps he could talk with Professor Benchley again, or at least finish working on his tailoring spell.

  Fortunately, the party was on a weeknight, so he could make the excuse of early errands he had to run before work the following morning. He said his goodnights to Hubbard and Barbara, thanking them for a lovely evening and congratulating his colleague once again on his book deal, and departed.

  With the help of his disregarding spell, he managed to make it out the front door without anyone else stopping him to chat. He stood for a moment on the front porch, looking out over the quiet neighborhood, then headed off down the street toward his car.

  As he walked, he shifted to magical sight and scanned the area ahead of him. Perhaps if he was lucky he might catch a glimpse of the mountain lion they’d heard on the deck, though he doubted it would come down this far, especially with so many unfamiliar people and cars around.

  He’d almost made it to the BMW, pressing his keyfob to open the door, and was about to switch the sight off when something caught his eye. Whatever it was, it was past the car, just beyond the far edge of the park.

  He stopped, narrowing his eyes to focus on it. It glowed green, more brightly than the trees around it, and seemed to be hunched over. An animal? A person? As he continued to watch, he spotted red flashes disrupting the green. That could mean many things, none of them good. Agitation, perhaps, or even injury.

  He hit the keyfob again to lock the car and walked slowly past it, entering the park. This time of night it was otherwise deserted, with only a few scattered lights providing illumination. Stone approached carefully and silently, with occasional glances around to make sure nobody else was nearby. This hardly seemed the sort of neighborhood where one was likely to be jumped, but it had happened enough times that he never made assumptions.

  As he drew closer, he sharpened his focus. The figure appeared to be huddled behind one of the trash receptacles; if Stone couldn’t see its red-speckled green aura, he probably wouldn’t have seen it at all. Was it hiding?

  “Hello?” he called as he drew closer, then stopped to see if it would respond. If it was an animal, he expected it to either dart off into the forest if it was able, or draw in farther behind the trash can if it was too injured to move. If the latter were the case, he could at least get a look at it and determine if it needed help.

  Nothing. The aura continued to glow past the edge of the receptacle. Oddly, some of the red streaks appeared to recede as he watched. What was going on?

  More cautiously, he stepped forward. It had to be an animal—an injured person would want help, wouldn’t they?

  Unless they were injured doing something they didn’t want to be caught at…

  “Is someone there?” he called again, approaching closer.

  The aura shifted, and the figure moved, rising to stand behind the trash can.

  “Bloody hell…” Stone murmured, shocked.

  Now that it was fully upright and illuminated by one of the park’s lights, Stone had no trouble identifying the figure.

  It was Marciella Garra.

  12

  Stone hurried forward. “Dr. Garra?”

  She stepped out from behind the trash can, gripping it with one hand for balance. As she came into the light, Stone’s shock increased.

  Her hair, pulled back into a neat bun at the party, now hung loose and disheveled. Her dress was torn at the top, revealing a narrow slash on her shoulder. Her arms, too, bled from several small cuts, and she’d lost one of her stylish heels.

  “Bloody hell…” Stone said again. “What’s happened to you?” Suddenly realizing that whoever or whatever had injured her might still be lurking nearby, he took a quick sweep of the area with magical sight, but spotted nothing.

  “I’m fine,” she said. Her shoulders rose and fell with her quick breathing, but her eyes were steady. She waved off his approach. “Really—Dr. Stone—I’m fine.”

  He stopped, confused. “You don’t look fine. You look like something’s attacked you. What happened? Come on—my car’s nearby. Let’s get you someplace where you can sit down.”

  She didn’t move, but she too scanned the area. “I’m serious. I’m fine. I went out here to get some air before I went to my car. I saw the park and decided to look around, and I tripped and fell. That’s all it is.”

  Stone’s magical sight revealed faint red flashes still dancing at the edges of her aura, but they seemed even fainter than before. Whatever had happened to Garra, she appeared concerned but not terrified. “You—fell?” Why would she tell him that? It couldn’t have been more obvious she was lying, but why? Was she trying to protect someone?

  “Yes—completely clumsy of me, I know. I think it’s these new shoes, coupled with the uneven terrain.”

  He offered his hand. “Come on—whatever’s happened to you, you’re obviously injured. Why don’t we go back to Hubbard’s house and—”

  “No, Dr. Stone.” This time her voice was more firm. She didn’t take his hand. “Please. I’m not kidding—I’ll be fine. It’s just a few scratches and cuts. I’m parked just across the street—I’ll head home and take care of it.”

  “But—”

  She gave an encouraging smile and pushed her loose hair back. “But nothing. I mean it. It’s kind of you to be concerned, but you needn’t be. It was nothing but my own clumsiness—I shouldn’t have tried walking in an unfamiliar area in heels.”

  Stone watched her, frustrated. His instincts urged him not to let this go—clearly she’d lied about what had happened to her, and she wasn’t nearly as ‘fine’ as she was trying to convince him she was—but what could he do? He couldn’t force his attentions on her. Even his minimal curiosity before had put her off; what would she do if he insisted on aiding her when she didn’t want to be aided?

  He studied her again, briefly. The red flashes had settled to where he could barely see them now, her aura glowing its usual bright green. The onyx pendant she wore still shone with magical power—possibly even a bit more than before—but without closer examination he couldn’t identify its purpose.

  “Are you sure?” he asked reluctantly. “I really do think you should do something about those cuts before you leave. If I’m making you uncomfortable, I could call Barbara, and—”

  “Dr. Stone.” She gripped his arm. “Stop. Please. This is nothing a bit of antiseptic and an aspirin or two won’t straighten out.” Pulling back, she met his gaze w
ith a calm, implacable one of her own. “Now—if you’ll excuse me, I do want to get home. You have a pleasant evening, and I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

  Without waiting for a response, she bent and deftly removed her other heel, then strode out of the park with a confidence at odds with her claim that she’d ‘tripped.’

  Stone remained where he was, watching her until she reached her car, a bright red Honda sedan. She got in, and only a moment later started the engine and drove quickly away.

  When her taillights disappeared around a bend at the other end of the street, Stone let his breath out. What the hell had that been about? Why would someone—or something—attack a woman in a quiet residential neighborhood? And more to the point, why would she lie about it?

  He turned back to the park, shifting once more to magical sight. Perhaps if he did a bit of looking around, he could pick up some leftover impressions to give him more of an idea of what had occurred here.

  One thing he was fairly certain of, at least: Garra wasn’t a mage. If she had magical talent, he couldn’t imagine her allowing herself to be attacked without putting up a fight, but aside from the necklace, he’d seen no sign of magical energy hovering around her. Perhaps that part of her story, at least, had been true: the necklace had been a gift from her mother and she had no idea of its properties. But if it truly had glowed more brightly now than before—and to be fair, he couldn’t be sure it had—that meant it had activated and used its power. Was it protective, perhaps, and saved Garra from further injury?

  Curious and wary, he spent the next several minutes pacing the small park, looking for any signs of magical energy. If he could find where the attack had occurred, he might be able to figure out more about its purpose.

  He almost didn’t find it, because he’d been confining his search to the park itself. As he drew near the rear part of it, though, where a narrow path separated it from the wilder forested land beyond, he moved a few feet into the trees and focused his sight again.

  This time, energy lit up the area off to his right. Red and angry, it swirled in the air like crimson smoke.

  He narrowed his eyes and studied it more carefully. There had been a fight here, no doubt about it. He couldn’t tell how many combatants there had been or their nature, but it hadn’t been long ago. A chill ran through him as he pictured Garra walking along the path, then something or someone leaping out and dragging her back into the trees. How had she escaped? He’d been out on the deck with Hubbard and his wife, not far from this area. In the neighborhood’s evening silence, he couldn’t have missed a scream or cry for help.

  It was darker out here beyond the edge of the park, with only the faint moonlight to illuminate the ground. Stone risked a dim light spell, shifting back to mundane sight. The angry red mist faded, but without it obscuring his vision he spotted two other things: Garra’s lost high-heeled sandal lying half-buried in the dead leaves, and a trio of deep slash marks on a nearby tree trunk. Strange…

  He retrieved the shoe and held onto it, leaning in for a closer look at the marks on the tree. They consisted of three parallel slashes, sinking a quarter-inch into the thick bark. If he didn’t know better, he’d have guessed they were made by an animal, not a human—but even the mountain lion he and the others had heard from the deck probably couldn’t sink its claws in that deep.

  What was going on?

  Suddenly, he felt very exposed out here, a chilling sensation crawling up his spine. Had Garra’s attacker fled long ago, or was someone even now watching him, observing his every movement from cover and waiting for a chance to attack? He spun, scanning the space behind him with magical sight, but still saw nothing but the trees’ pale auras. If anybody was there, they were either a long way off or hiding very well.

  You’re being absurd, he told himself angrily, turning back to the tree. Nonetheless, he summoned a shield around himself. Absurd he may be, but it never hurt to be careful—especially not now, when his heightened power levels made it easier than ever to maintain the protective barrier. Whatever was out there—if anything was out there—it would be in for a nasty surprise if it decided to have a go at him.

  He looked around for a few more minutes, but it was difficult to see much without using a much brighter light spell—which would likely attract attention from one of the Hubbards’ departing party guests or some other inquisitive neighbor. Cops out here showed up fast when called, and while he could certainly get away from them if he needed to, it wasn’t worth the risk.

  Not when he had other options at his disposal.

  13

  Garra wasn’t in her office when Stone arrived on campus at ten-thirty the following morning. “Morning, Laura,” he said, pausing at the admin’s desk. “Have you seen Dr. Garra today?”

  “She was here an hour or so ago, but she’s already left for her class.”

  “Ah. All right, then—I’ll chat with her later. Thank you.”

  “I enjoyed the party last night, didn’t you?”

  “Oh—I did, yes.”

  “I’m so happy for Dr. Hubbard—he’s been working for this for so long.” Her brows furrowed. “You left early, though, didn’t you? I didn’t see you go, but I looked for you around nine, and you were already gone.”

  “Ah…yes. I had a few things I needed to finish last night, so I wasn’t able to stay as long as I’d hoped.” He thought about asking Laura if she’d noticed anything odd about Garra, but didn’t—if he did, he was sure the inquisitive admin would be unable to contain her curiosity about why he wanted to know, and that could lead to nothing good. Especially if it got back to Garra that he was asking. It did strike him as odd, though, that Laura hadn’t commented on Garra’s scratches. If she’d noticed them, she’d have said something. Perhaps Garra had covered them with a suit jacket.

  “Oh, I understand,” she said. “I’m glad you could make it.” She returned to her work after a quick sideways glance at him.

  Stone was convinced, after all the years she’d served as the department’s aide, that she considered her job to be as much riding herd over a collection of intelligent but highly eccentric charges as it was answering phones and handling schedules. He wondered sometimes with amusement what she told her friends about him, Hubbard, and the others when she discussed her work.

  He had only a single class today, at eleven, leaving his afternoon open for the meeting with his solicitor and Jason to sign the papers formalizing their partnership. Since it was a beautiful day, he decided to get an early start on his walk across campus, and perhaps pause for a cup of coffee on the way. He stopped by a little café halfway between his office and his classroom; he’d started picking up his morning caffeine there since he’d moved to Encantada, as his old favorite place on University Avenue was no longer convenient.

  He supposed it shouldn’t have been a surprise, or a coincidence, that he spotted Marciella Garra in the café, standing with several others and waiting for her order. The place was on the way to her classes too, after all. What did surprise him was that she had the jacket of her usual professional skirt suit off, draped over an arm bared by a sleeveless blouse—and he saw no sign of the cuts from last night. No bandages, either. Her arms, as evenly tanned as the rest of her, were unmarred by any injury.

  Almost as if she sensed him there looking at her, Garra turned toward the door. For just a second, an odd expression passed across her face—annoyance, perhaps, or even fear—but then it was gone and replaced by her usual smile. “Dr. Stone, good morning.”

  “Good morning. You’re looking well today.” He dropped his volume so only she could hear him, and cast a pointed glance at her arm. “I’m glad to see you’re showing no ill effects from last night.”

  She looked startled, then the smile was back, brighter than ever. “Ah. Yes. I did appreciate your concern. As you can see, though, I was right—it really was nothing. I’m fine.”

  The barista called her name, and she hurried forward to retrieve her steaming cup of cof
fee, then returned to Stone. “I should probably wear lower heels—either that, or familiarize myself with where I’m going before I try out a new pair of high ones.”

  “You’ll be pleased to know I found the other one, by the way.” He noticed that she was back to wearing her usual gold chain necklace, and no longer wore the one with the magical black onyx pendant.

  “The other—?”

  “Shoe. I wanted a bit of air myself after you left, so I walked around for a few minutes before I headed home. Found it out in the trees behind the park.” He kept both his tone and his gaze light, but held hers firmly. “Odd that I’d find it so far out. Perhaps some animal dragged it out there.”

  Garra tensed at his words and her own gaze sharpened, just for a moment. Then she chuckled. “Oh—well, possibly. I did see a couple of raccoons when I was walking, and they’ll steal anything shiny. I appreciate your retrieving it for me—they weren’t cheap.”

  Stone wished he’d been able to examine her unexpected reaction with magical sight, but staring at her in the middle of a crowded coffee shop didn’t seem prudent. “Well, at any rate,” he said, “I’ve brought it with me today, so you can stop by my office whenever you like and pick it up. It’s in the black tote bag on my guest chair.”

  “I’ll do that.” She nodded toward the barista. “Don’t let me keep you—I know you have a class coming up.” With a smile and a wave, she swept out of the shop.

  For the rest of the way to his class, Stone couldn’t get his mind off her. As he strode along sipping his coffee, he kept going over what he’d seen. Even taken individually, the events would be enough to pique his curiosity: a supposed mundane with a magical necklace, someone who could heal injuries overnight—hell, even his general feeling that something about Garra was unusual. Taken together, though, they all began to form an intriguing and tempting puzzle.