Stone and Claw: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

  “So you guys don’t know where this chalice is now?” Jason asked.

  Raider accosted them as they entered the house, winding himself around Stone’s legs until Jason picked him up. All four adjourned to the living room. “Lie down,” Verity insisted, dropping the bags they’d picked up from In-n-Out Burger on the table. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

  Stone obeyed without arguing, kicking his boots off and propping himself against the pillows at one end of the sofa. “No, we’ve no idea where the chalice is. Obviously these magically enhanced men killed Jimmy Tanuki and took it, but we hadn’t had the chance to investigate further before everything went pear-shaped.” He pulled a burger from the bag, but didn’t unwrap it yet. Raider sniffed it hopefully.

  Verity returned with three glasses of ice water on a tray. “So what are you going to do next?”

  Stone had already tried calling Garra again on their way over; once more, he’d gotten voicemail. This time he’d left a message, asking her to call him the instant she got it. “I suppose I’ll have to do a ritual.”

  “How can you do that?” Jason asked. “You don’t have anything of hers, do you?”

  “He can use the amulet,” Verity said. “Right, Doc? You said it was attuned to her, so it should be easy.”

  “Yes. I hate to risk destroying it, but I can build her a new one.” He sighed, looking down at the still-wrapped burger. “But I’m concerned that she’s dead. Those men were trying to kill both of us. They got the drop on me, and the only reason they didn’t succeed is because Verity was there to heal up the damage before it got too bad. If they managed to find her too…I can’t see it ending well.” He unwrapped the burger and took an experimental bite, half expecting his stomach to erupt in pain again when he swallowed. When it didn’t, he realized how hungry he’d been and tore into the rest.

  “You’re gonna need to rest a while before you can do any rituals,” Jason said. “Even I can see that. So how about I go back to the office and see if there’s anything I can do in the meantime.”

  “Like what?” Stone finished the burger, except for a small piece of the patty he offered the insistent Raider, and chased it with several swallows of water. To his relief, there were still no signs of pain.

  “I can check local hospitals and police reports to see if anything’s turned up.”

  “You mean any bodies—or mysterious big cat sightings.”

  “Yeah. I’ll…check morgues, too. I don’t have a lot of contacts up here yet, but—”

  Stone used magic to pull a notebook and pen to him from the table. He wrote down a number and offered it to Jason. “That’s Detective Blum’s number. Don’t call him unless you need him, but if you need to cut through any red tape, he might be able to help. I’ve already consulted him about some of this. He doesn’t know about Dr. Garra being a shifter, though, so keep that bit under your hat.”

  “Got it.” He finished his own burger and stood. “I’ll get on that right away.” He glared at Stone. “Stay put for a while, okay? And call me if you end up doing this ritual and finding anything. If you go looking for her, you’ll need all the backup you can get.”

  “I promise—I won’t go anywhere on my own.”

  Jason looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected to hear that. “Yeah, okay. I’ll call if I find anything.”

  After he left, Verity dropped down on the other end of the sofa with sigh.

  “You look tired,” Stone said. “You should get some rest.”

  “I’m okay. You’re the one who should be resting.”

  He shifted to magical sight. Her aura—green like Garra’s, but a darker, deeper shade—included a few dimmer spots. “How much sleep have you had since Saturday night?”

  “Enough. I caught a few catnaps at the hospital.”

  “You should sleep now. Much as I hate to acknowledge it, I don’t dare try the ritual right now. I’ve only got one shot at it with the amulet, and I don’t want to take the chance of botching it.”

  “I really ought to take that beer sample up to Hezzie so we can analyze it. It might help us figure out who’s behind this.”

  “There’s time for that.” More softly, he added, “If Dr. Garra’s already dead, taking a bit more time to find who killed her won’t matter. And if she’s not, I doubt anything will happen in the next couple of hours.”

  “I guess not,” she said reluctantly.

  “Verity…” He shifted position so he was mostly seated on his end of the sofa. “It’s all right. I’ll be fine.”

  She slid over until she sat against him, her head on his shoulder. “You didn’t see you that night, Doc. Everybody was scared to death. You seemed fine, then you just—fell off the stage. You were so pale…”

  He put his arm around her. “And you were there to set things right. You can’t know how grateful I am to you for that.”

  “I was scared shitless. You were so messed up inside—I didn’t know whether I’d be able to do it before they took you away.”

  “But you did do it.” He pulled her closer. “Verity, I am so proud of you. Not just for this—for everything. When I started training you, I had no idea what kind of amazing mage you’d turn out to be.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder. “I almost didn’t come to the show. Kyla wanted me to stay up in San Francisco Saturday night, and go to a party with her. I told her I couldn’t miss your show—but she almost convinced me to stay.”

  “It’s all right…” he murmured.

  “It’s not all right. If I hadn’t been there, you’d have—”

  “Shh…Come on. You can’t keep dwelling on that. That’s my trick, remember? Tearing myself up about what might have been?”

  She gave a wan chuckle. “Yeah…I guess so.”

  He thought about Garra, and a stab of guilt went through him. “Verity…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve…got to tell you something.”

  She pulled her face out of his shoulder. “What is it?”

  “I—” He couldn’t meet her gaze.

  “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

  “No. No. Sorry…this is a bit difficult for me, but I can’t keep things from you.”

  Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head. “Okay…” Her gaze shifted. “Your aura’s kind of a mess right now. Are you sure you’re not—”

  He wanted to get up and pace—the compulsion was so strong it was nearly physical—but he didn’t think his legs would handle it right now. “It’s not that.” He took a deep breath. “Verity—remember what I told you about Friday night? When Dr. Garra and I went to Oakland?”

  “Yeah. Of course. You got ambushed by those guys, but they got away. But—”

  “I didn’t tell you everything.” He drew back from her as much as he could, forcing himself to look at her. No ducking this. You don’t get that right. “I—After they left, I took her home. She invited me in for a cup of coffee. We were both still quite stressed from what happened.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Doc…are you trying to tell me you and Dr. Garra slept together Friday night?”

  Of course she caught on that fast. He dropped his gaze—he couldn’t help it. “Yes,” he whispered. “We did.”

  He waited, afraid to look up, not sure what to expect. Would she get up to leave? Would she be staring at him with anger, or disappointment, or betrayal?

  She took his hand. “Look at me,” she murmured.

  He did, reluctantly, and blinked.

  She was smiling.

  It wasn’t a big grin, but it was there, wistful and amused. Her eyes glittered. “You were afraid to tell me that, weren’t you?”

  “I—”

  “Why?” When he didn’t answer, she said, “Because you were afraid of how I’d take it?”

  “Well—yes.” He covered her hand with his other one. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “Why not?”

  “What?”

  “Why not? Why shouldn’t
you?” She pulled him forward, toward her.

  At first he resisted, but when she tugged harder he allowed her to pull him into her arms.

  She propped her chin on his shoulder. “Doc—did you think I was kidding before? Did you think I was just telling you I was okay with it because I was supposed to? Because…when you think about it, that’s…kinda more insulting.”

  He flicked his gaze up. “No. No, of course not. I could see you were serious.” He chuckled. “You still can’t hide your aura from me. The old dog’s still got a few tricks you haven’t mastered yet.”

  “Well, then, what? Why were you afraid to tell me?”

  He levitated his glass of water over and took a long drink. “I wasn’t afraid to tell you. I was…angry with myself.”

  “Why? You mean for sleeping with Dr. Garra? Why would you be angry about that?” She leaned back and studied him. “Wait. I get it.”

  “Do you? I’m not entirely sure I do.”

  “You’re mad at yourself because you’re okay with me seeing other people—well, women, anyway—but you still don’t think you should.”

  He shook his head, amused in spite of himself. “When did you get so perceptive?”

  “It’s not tough, Doc. You’re not as mysterious as you think you are, sometimes. Not to me, anyway.” She pulled him back into a hug. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Will you listen to me? Will you believe me?”

  He stroked her back, his hand shaking a little. “Yes. I promise—I’ll believe you.”

  She remained silent for a while, holding him close. “I love you, Alastair. You know that, right?”

  “I…do.”

  “You can see it in my aura, right?”

  He nodded.

  “And I know you love me. I can see it in yours, every time we’re together. You’re better at concealing it than I am, but that’s not something you can hide completely.”

  Once again, he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  “Then that’s all that matters. That’s all I care about. I don’t care if you sleep with other women. I don’t even care if you love them. Love’s not finite, Doc. Even if you did love somebody else—hell, I know you do love somebody else—it’s not the same. It’ll be different for them than it is for me.”

  He blinked. “You…know I love someone else? Verity, Dr. Garra was just—”

  “Not Dr. Garra,” she said gently.

  “Then—”

  “I saw how you looked at Imogen when we were in England. I know you’re always going to love her, even though you know nothing will come of it anymore.” When he started to say something, she held up her hand. “But that’s not my point. All I’m trying to say is, it doesn’t matter what you do with other people…or what I do. It won’t affect what’s between us. Does that make sense?”

  “Honestly…I’m not sure. But I believe you. It’s—just a bit harder for me to get my mind around it.”

  She tightened her grip and kissed him. “You do what you want, Doc,” she said, her voice gentle. “I just want you to know—and really believe—that I’m okay with whatever you decide. We’ll still have what we have, either way, for as long as we both want it. And if you want to hook up with Dr. Garra after we find her, you have my blessing.”

  He chuckled. He had no idea why she always seemed to make him feel good even when saying things he had trouble accepting, but she did. “I don’t deserve you, you know.”

  “Probably not,” she said cheerfully. “But you’re stuck with me, so you might as well deal.” She got up. “Now lie down and try to sleep for a while. You’re gonna need your strength for that ritual. I can—”

  The phone rang.

  Stone raised his hand and brought the handset to him. “Probably someone from work, checking up on me.” He hit the button. “Yes, hello?”

  “Stone.”

  He stiffened, a cold thrill of dread shooting through him. The voice was male, low, and sounded as if the speaker was trying to disguise it. He glanced at Verity, who was looking at him with concern. “Who is this?”

  “Stay away from the chalice. You should be dead, but we won’t fail next time.”

  “Where’s Dr. Garra? What have you done with her?” He tightened his grip on the handset until it shook.

  “Last warning, Stone. Mind your own business.”

  The line went dead.

  34

  “Bloody hell.” Stone threw the handset on the sofa and leaped up. A quick rush of lightheadedness hit him, but passed quickly.

  Verity jumped up too. “What is it?” she demanded. “Who was that?”

  “I’ve got to get started on that ritual. No more time to wait.” He started toward the stairs.

  She hurried to catch up and grabbed his arm. “Who was it?”

  “One of the people who tried to kill me. He said to leave the whole Garra thing alone, or they wouldn’t cock it up next time.” He gripped the railing and started up the stairs.

  “Did they say anything about her? Do they have her? Did they kill her?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “How can you do the ritual, though? You’re wiped out. Do you want me to—”

  “I’m all right. Feeling better, surprisingly. I just need to grab some things from the study before I start.” He reached the top, avoiding Raider, who’d streaked up behind them, and pushed open the door.

  The first thing he saw, as the cat darted inside past him, was his old Strat on its stand. “Oh, bugger.”

  Verity winced. “Yeah…I forgot to tell you in all the chaos. Sorry…”

  The guitar had definitely seen better days. Two of its tuning pegs had broken off, the whammy bar was bent, and it had a big chunk out of the glossy black paint at the bottom. Stone regarded it for a moment. “Ah, well,” he said. “I’d been meaning to pick up another one—perhaps this is the universe’s way of telling me to get on with it. It’ll have to wait, though.” He hurried to the desk and began pulling open drawers.

  Verity waited in the doorway, but Raider couldn’t sit still. He leaped up on the desk, watched Stone for a few seconds, then jumped down and crossed to the other side of the room, where he put his paws up and scratched at the wall.

  Stone, focused on what he was doing, flicked an impatient glance at the cat. “What are you on about, Raider? I haven’t got time to feed you right now. You’ve got a full dish downstairs.”

  “Meow,” the cat said, and continued scratching at the same spot.

  “Doc,” Verity said suddenly, “do you think he’s trying to tell us something?” Without waiting for an answer, she approached Raider and examined the area he was scratching.

  “See anything?” Stone asked, still digging through a desk drawer.

  “Not that I can tell.” She prodded at the wall, feeling around. “I don’t see anything with magical sight, and it’s all smooth so if there’s a concealed passage or something, it’s pretty well hidden.”

  Raider raised up to his full height, stretching his front paws as high up the wall as he could. “Meow.”

  “Got it,” Stone said, grabbing Garra’s amulet from the drawer and slamming it shut. “Let’s go. I want to get started on this. Sorry, Raider—or Dr. Benchley—but you’ll have to wait.”

  Stone hadn’t had time to prepare his new attic ritual area since he’d moved in, since he planned to enlist Jason’s help with installing a new slate floor where he could inlay a permanent version. He paced the room, pulling materials off shelves and arranging them on a nearby table. “Help me with this, will you?” he asked Verity. “I’m not sure how much bending and crawling around I’m up to right now.”

  “You direct, I’ll draw,” she said, and grabbed a large piece of chalk.

  She didn’t need help with the basic circle—she could do those almost as well as he could now—so he continued pacing, examining some of the other objects on the shelves lining two walls. He’d have to get around to arranging the
m soon, but until they figured out what had happened to Garra it wasn’t high on his priority list.

  To avoid dark ruminations on how close he’d come to never seeing his new home again, he turned his thoughts back to Garra and the chalice. For the last few days, something had been scratching at him, as insistent as Raider had been at his wall upstairs, but he couldn’t quite pin down what it was. Barely realizing he was doing it, he began to mutter to himself. “Why would they be so protective of this thing?”

  “What’s that, Doc?” Verity asked. She was crouched on the wooden floor, sketching out the circle’s structure with green chalk.

  “Nothing—just thinking aloud. Wondering why whoever has the chalice is so protective of it that they’d try to kill me, and possibly kill Dr. Garra, to keep us away from it.”

  “Well…it is a pretty powerful magical item, right? That would make it valuable.”

  “True. But it’s also fairly single-purpose, if Dr. Garra can be believed. It’s valuable for its artifact status, and there are definitely mages out there who collect such things, but their methods of protecting them tend to be a bit less…proactive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Remember Thalassa Nera? Her place was full of deathtraps, but you actually had to get inside before they went off. She didn’t send people out to murder anyone who might be after her property.”

  “She didn’t know you were after it, though,” Verity pointed out. “Maybe she would have if she did.”

  “You have a point there. But this just seems like overly extreme behavior for a collector. Most collectors of that caliber are quite wealthy. They own multiple warded properties, and with the portals it would be laughably easy for them to simply make the chalice disappear to somewhere it would take even another powerful mage a long time and a lot of effort to locate. That’s assuming they didn’t keep it moving for a while to elude detection. Even Kolinsky wouldn’t have an easy time tracking an artifact if its owner was actively trying to conceal it.”

  “So what are you getting at?” Verity used magic to pull a blue hunk of chalk to her from the table and continued with her sketch.