Alastair Stone Chronicles Box Set: Alastair Stone Chronicles, Books 1 through 4

by R. L. King

  He’d gotten home around five o’clock to find her message on his machine wondering where he’d gone. After calling her back and assuring her that he was quite capable of driving, he felt better, and he’d just had some errands to run, he’d smoothed over the last of her concern by proposing that she choose what she wanted to do with the evening, and he’d go along with it.

  She had shown up two hours later with a couple of bags of groceries, a bottle of good wine, and her usual teasing remarks about his appalling lack of cooking skills and the fact that he never had anything decent to eat in his townhouse unless it was one of Mrs. Olivera’s nights to cook. “I’m going to make you dinner,” she said. “And you’re just going to sit back, relax, and stop stressing your body out instead of acting like you’re eighteen and can heal overnight.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he’d said meekly. “You know, I could get to like this whole ‘being waited on’ thing.”

  “Well, don’t get too attached to it. You still owe me dinner from Thursday night, remember.”

  She’d whipped up a quick but tasty pasta dish and they’d taken their time over it, sipping wine and chatting about completely mundane subjects for the next couple of hours. He’d insisted on taking care of the dishes, after which they’d retired to the dimly lit living room for some soft music and no television.

  “See?” she’d said, leaned back comfortably against him. “This is nice. No essays to read, no students, no skulls or little old ladies or parking-lot thugs.”

  “Mmm,” he’d agreed. “Quite nice. You’re turning me domestic, my dear.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, right. Next stop: white picket fence and 2.5 adorable children. And a Labrador retriever.”

  “How about one adorable child and 2.5 Labrador retrievers? Or better yet: just the picket fence?”

  One thing had led to another and they’d ended up in the bedroom, and despite the fact that they’d had to be more careful than usual because of his injuries, they’d managed to have an enjoyable evening. Stone had dropped off to sleep contented, for the first time in days not feeling like something was hanging over his head. He slipped in and out of deep restful sleep, his racing mind finally slowing down while Megan slumbered on next to him.

  The phone rang.

  “Bloody hell!” he whispered, jerking fully awake and wincing as his injured ribs protested. Megan stirred as he quickly rolled over and tried to snatch it up before it rang again. According to the clock on the nightstand, it was 1:32 a.m. “Walter, if this is you again—” he muttered into the phone.

  “Dr. Stone?”

  The voice was trembling, female, and sounded terrified. It took him a moment to identify it. He stared as Megan stirred again, draping her arm back over him. “Mrs.—Bonham?”

  Whoever was on the other end sounded like they were on the verge of hysteria. “Dr. Stone, is that you?”

  “It’s me, Mrs. Bonham. What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” He sat up a little, propping himself up on his pillows. Megan’s arm slid down over his stomach, but he didn’t even notice that she was there.

  “Something’s here,” she quavered. “Something’s…happening.”

  He was fully awake now. Carefully, he moved Megan’s arm and sat on the edge of the bed. “Calm down, Mrs. Bonham, please. I’ll help you if I can, but you have to tell me what’s happening.”

  “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “It’s like the whole house hates me. Noises—cold winds—things slamming—”

  “Is Iona there? Can you put her on for a moment?”

  There was a shuffling sound and then a different voice spoke, sounding almost as frightened as Adelaide Bonham had. “Dr. Stone? This is Iona.”

  He took a deep breath. “Iona. What’s going on? Is Mrs. Bonham—”

  “She’s not imagining things,” the woman said. In addition to sounding frightened, she sounded like she couldn’t believe what was going on. “I can hear them too. The noises. The feelings. It’s horrible, Dr. Stone. Something’s going on.”

  Another deep breath. “All right. All right. Er—listen to me. Ask Mrs. Bonham—if there’s a place in the house where she feels particularly safe or comfortable, go there. Lock yourselves in if you can, and wait. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Shuffling sound, and Adelaide was back on. “Should I call Tommy too?”

  “No. No, just do as I said. Go to where you feel safest and wait. I’ll get there as fast as I can.” He was already getting up, painfully pulling on his clothes as he held the cordless receiver between his head and shoulder. He broke the connection and dropped the receiver on the bed.

  “Alastair?” Megan’s voice sounded muzzy from sleep. “What’s going on—? Was that the phone?”

  “Go back to sleep,” he murmured, shrugging a sweater on over his T-shirt. “I have to go out for a bit. I’ll be back soon.” He sat down on the bed and hurriedly began pulling on socks and shoes.

  “You have to go out?” She was more awake now. “Wait a minute. What time is it?”

  “It’s late. Shh. Go back to sleep. I’ll be back before you know it.” I hope.

  “Where are you going?” She rolled over on her back, staring at him. “You can’t go out now. It’s the middle of the night!”

  He didn’t have time for this. Leaning over, he kissed her warm forehead. “I’m sorry, Megan, but I have to go. Go back to sleep, and I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.” Before she could protest he hurried out the door. He heard her calling to him as he reached the top of the stairs, but he didn’t pause.

  Breathing hard, acutely aware of how long it would take him to drive from Palo Alto to Los Gatos even at this hour when there would be next to no traffic, he forced himself to pause when he reached the ground floor. He took a quick inventory and hurried downstairs to his basement sanctum, donning the ring and amulet and stuffing all of the crystals in his pocket. He’d need all the power he could get if something big was happening down there, and after the last couple of days, his personal power level wasn’t at its highest. Next he found a bag on a shelf and began tossing various candles, jars of sand, incense sticks and other ritual materials into it. He had no idea if he’d need them or even have a chance to use them, but better safe than sorry.

  Back upstairs his gaze fell on the bottle of pain pills by the sink. He snatched it up and stuck it in his pocket, but didn’t take one now. He couldn’t afford to dull his senses; he’d just have to deal with the pain unless it got so bad it was causing its own problems.

  He grabbed his black overcoat and threw it on, then hurried out through the garage door. A couple of minutes later he was on the road heading toward 280, his mind thrumming with possibilities about what could be going on. He wished he’d thought of consulting Stefan Kolinsky earlier—if the man could have come up with anything, he might have a better idea what he was dealing with. He hated going in blind.

  It was about twenty-five miles from Palo Alto to Los Gatos, not counting the smaller roads that went up into the hills. He opened up the car on the freeway as much as he dared—getting pulled over now would slow him down more than if he just drove the speed limit. All the while his brain continued to spin horrific scenarios of some potent, malevolent force having its way with the two helpless women trapped inside the house.

  Why had it chosen to make its move tonight? There was nothing mystically significant about the time period—it was merely a cold, slightly foggy night in early December, no different from any other. He couldn’t imagine how Adelaide or Iona could have done anything to provoke it—the only thing he figured was that perhaps he’d been right that it had been gaining power on its own and had finally hit the tipping point when it could affect the material world in a more direct way.

  That was bad news, especially since he had no idea what it was, and thus no idea how to fight it.

  Bugger Tommy and his mundanity, anyway! If he hadn’t been so insistent that Aunt Adelaide not be frightened by what he believed to be bogus concerns, S
tone could have done more tests, and maybe taken more of the thing’s measure before it became too dangerous.

  Ah, well. No point in focusing on that now. He just hoped he’d be able to keep his promise to Megan and be back by the time she woke up the next morning.

  Or that he’d at least be alive by the next morning.

  It was close to two-thirty when he slewed the Jaguar right onto the turnoff leading up to the house. He couldn’t see anything in the distance: no pyrotechnic lightshows or anything as blatant as that. This wasn’t necessarily comforting, though: a lot of magical entities were quite a bit more subtle. He pulled the car over for a moment and stopped, leaning over the steering wheel and closing his eyes, willing up his mental defenses to their maximum. It would take a bit of his energy to sustain them, but if this was one of the more subtle variety of mystical baddies, he’d be grateful he’d taken the effort later.

  Continuing up the road he reached the gate. It was closed. Damn. Forgot to tell them to open it before they hid. He jumped out of the car, leaving it running, and tried to open it.

  It was locked up tight. Of course it was. A cold, biting wind sliced through his coat.

  With a sigh he went back to the car, pulled it off to the side, and gathered up his gear from inside. He hadn’t wanted to waste magical energy yet, but he was going to have to get over that gate and there was no way he was going to climb it. He didn’t know how long the fence around the place extended, and he didn’t have time to find out.

  He slung his bag over his shoulder, focused his will, and levitated himself up and over, dropping down neatly on the other side. That spell came easily for him, fortunately, so he was barely breathing hard when he touched down. Ahead, he could see the bulk of the house rising up like a dark presence all its own, lit only by its perimeter lights. No cheery inside lamps now. He wondered where Adelaide and Iona had chosen to hide, and hoped they’d chosen wisely.

  He kept to the side of the road as he moved up toward the house, reaching out with his magical senses to see if he could get any more information about the entity before he had to go inside. Immediately he picked something up—it was all around him. The thing was agitated. But the strange thing was, it didn’t seem any more potent or powerful than it had the first time Stone had touched it back when he and Tommy had made their first visit.

  Odd, he thought. Almost like something’s disturbing it.

  There was also something else—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. A trace of a different sort of magic in the air. Less powerful, more focused.

  More familiar.

  Was there another mage here?

  No, that was absurd. What would another mage be doing out here in the middle of nowhere on a night like this? He checked again, and the odd trace was gone. He pulled up the collar of his overcoat against the wind and resumed his trudge toward the house. When he got there, he pounded on the door. “Mrs. Bonham!” he yelled, wondering if she’d even hear him from inside the vast house. “Iona! It’s Alastair Stone! Open the door!” His voice was nearly carried off by the rushing wind.

  Nothing happened. He stood there, hands in his pockets, teeth gritted, glancing constantly around him as if expecting something to sneak up on him, for nearly five minutes. He was beginning to wonder if he’d have to try getting in through one of the windows when the door opened. A wide-eyed Iona was on the other side, dressed in robe and slippers, her dark hair in disarray. “Oh! Dr. Stone. Thank God you’re here! Come in, come in!” She grabbed his arm and tugged him inside, then slammed the door shut behind him and locked it. She was breathing like she’d just run two circuits around the grounds.

  Stone’s gaze took in the entry chamber. Nothing looked out of the ordinary here. “Iona. Are you all right? Where’s Mrs. Bonham?”

  “Come with me.” She led him out of the room and down a long hall to what looked like a smallish office. Unlike the rest of the house which showed strong leanings toward Adelaide Bonham’s old-lady decorating tastes, this one had a distinct masculine feel, with paneled walls, shelves lined with old books, and even a couple stuffed deer heads. The furniture was heavy wood and leather, overstuffed and comfortable in a functional way, and another door led to a tiny bathroom at the far end. The room had no windows, and only a single exit door. Iona waved Stone through it, and then closed it after a quick peek outside to make sure nothing was following them.

  Adelaide was perched on one end of a brown couch, clutching a handkerchief and trembling in her quilted pale-blue dressing gown and slippers. She looked up as he entered and tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, Dr. Stone. I’m so sorry to drag you out of your bed at such an hour—and what happened to your face?”

  He crouched in front of her, taking her hand reassuringly. “Think nothing of it, Mrs. Bonham. I’m fine. Now, tell me—what’s gotten you so frightened?”

  She didn’t have to tell him, though. As she drew breath to answer the house made a sudden loud creaking sound, low and rumbling and sustained from somewhere deep in its bowels. This was followed by the sharp slams of several doors opening and closing and then a low, agonized moan. Adelaide and Iona made little screams and clutched at each other, trembling.

  “Oh, dear God,” Iona whispered. “What is it? What is it?”

  Stone was not trembling. The initial creak had startled him, but when it continued to draw out he pulled himself to his full height, shifting his perceptions over to get a better look. He stood there, jaw set and grim thousand-yard stare fixed somewhere out beyond the confines of the house, for almost a minute after the moan died out.

  The two women looked at him, for a moment appearing almost as frightened of him as they were of what the house was doing. “Dr...Stone?” Adelaide ventured at last.

  He shook his head quickly as if clearing it, and his gaze switched back to the here and now. “Sorry,” he said. He let his breath out and sat down in a nearby chair. His mind was still far away, but he forced himself to focus on the two ladies. “Just—trying to figure out where that was coming from.”

  “What was it?” Iona asked, voice shaking.

  Stone took a deep breath. Here was when things were going to get interesting. “I don’t know what it is yet. I’ll need to do more tests to find out. But whatever it is, it’s somewhere inside the house.”

  Iona and Adelaide exchanged terrified looks. “In the house?” Adelaide echoed. She looked around like she expected to see something come crashing through the closed doors.

  “Yes. How long as it been doing this? Is that what frightened you initially?”

  Adelaide nodded, eyes wide. “Y-yes. It started a couple of hours ago—not long before I called you. I had just gone to bed about half an hour before that, and so had Iona. Her bedroom is near mine so I can call her if I need her for anything. And then suddenly the house just started doing—that.” She waved her hands around to encompass what had just occurred.

  “That...but nothing else?” Stone asked. “Nothing flying around, or breaking? Nothing like when your television set exploded?”

  Iona shook her head. “Not unless all that crashing was things falling off shelves or something. But nothing dangerous around us. Right, Adelaide?”

  Again, the old lady nodded. “No, just very, very frightening.” Her pleading gaze fell back on Stone. “Dr. Stone, please tell me you can help us with this. Because if you can’t—”

  Stone patted her arm. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Bonham. I think I can help you. But what I want you to do for now is to stay put in here—is this the place you feel safest in the house?”

  “Yes—it used to be my Edgar’s little study. Where he went when he wanted to just get away from the world for a while. We used to spend a lot of time in here, just the two of us. That’s why I never changed the furnishings or anything.”

  Stone nodded, most of her words beyond ‘yes’ not even registering as his mind continued working through possible causes and solutions. “All right, then—stay here, and don’t come out until I eithe
r come back or it’s morning. Can you do that for me? I won’t be as effective if I have to worry about you two out and about.”

  Adelaide reached out and took his hand, holding it between her two cold ones. “Are—are you going to be safe, Dr. Stone? If something happens to you—”

  He patted her hand, exuding a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. “I’ll be fine. I promise. You just stay here and I’ll be back as soon as I can. Oh…would you trust me with a key to the house?” he added. “If I have to go outside, I don’t want to leave the door unlocked or ask you to come and let me in again.”

  “Of course.” She nodded to Iona, who pulled a key on a smiley-face fob from a nearby drawer and handed it to him.

  “All right, then,” he said with a slightly manic grin, squaring his shoulders. “Time to go find out what this thing is, what it wants, and why it’s being so rude.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Far out on the spacious grounds surrounding Adelaide’s house, hidden from view by the thick growth of trees, The Three continued their magical ritual.

  They’d been at it for nearly two hours now; this was no simple symbolic-link ritual like the ones they often did to get back at hapless club patrons for minor slights. This one had the potential to go horribly awry if they didn’t pay careful attention to what they were doing. They didn’t want to get this wrong, so they’d taken extra time to set up their circle.

  After all, it wasn’t like anyone was going to come out here and catch them at it.

  They’d had a bit of trouble finding the place, since Ethan’s directions hadn’t been precise, and he hadn’t remembered the house number. Miguel, who excelled at that sort of thing, had hunted it down using the old woman’s name, and they’d pored through the Thomas Guide for the area until they’d identified the twisty little road that led to the place. Thwarted by the locked gate (they could probably have used magic to break the lock, but they didn’t want to draw any attention to themselves), they’d driven a few yards off the road, hidden their vehicle, and levitated themselves over.