Circle of Stone

by R. L. King

  Not until he got Julio.

  But now the feeling was back, stronger than ever. Over the past few days, he’d felt as if two separate parts of his body were at war with each other: the old Ben, the scared Ben—the one who, even with these wondrous new powers, was terrified of confronting Julio, and the new Ben, who seemed to feed on his growing feelings of rage, vengeance, and anger.

  The new Ben scared the old Ben, especially late at night. During the day, when he thought about his mother and about what Julio had done to her, he could justify the feelings. Of course he was angry. Of course he wanted revenge. Isn’t that why he’d spent so much time practicing his magic, getting better and stronger with it? Didn’t Julio deserve to go down?

  But when he lay in bed well past midnight, sweating into his covers and listening to some inane blender infomercial on the room’s small TV, other thoughts slipped in: thoughts that something must have happened to him, that something else was making him feel this anger, that his magical ability had increased too fast for mere practice to account for it.

  He’d practiced with his dad when he was younger, before Dad died and Ma convinced him his magic was dirty and shameful, and he’d never been anything like this strong. He’d never even come close to doing the things he could do now. He could lift himself effortlessly off the ground and remain aloft as long as he wanted. He could conjure shields that, while he hadn’t actually tested them, he was convinced were tough enough to stop bullets or speeding cars. He could weave illusions to disguise himself or keep himself hidden. Sure, his illusions were simplistic—even now, he’d never gotten the hang of really impressive ones because he knew his imagination had never been all that great—but they were solid.

  And, perhaps most surprising of all, his persuasive skills had grown too. Ben had never been a charismatic guy. Throughout school he’d been a nonentity, the kind of kid even the bullies usually didn’t bother with because he was too dull. Although he was smart he didn’t get good grades, and any time he had to do any sort of verbal presentation he’d gotten so tongue-tied and embarrassed that he could barely stammer out enough to get a passing mark.

  Now, though, he remembered the meeting with the kids—his kids, as he’d begun to think of them—and how he’d managed to talk them into helping him with Julio. They hadn’t wanted to, he could tell. They were still spooked by what had happened at the Arena, and if they had their way they’d probably never want to hear from him again. But he’d convinced them to show up, and he’d made them see. He’d played them like a conductor with an orchestra, appealing to their emotions, to their sense of fair play, to their sympathy at his grief at the loss of his mother. All those feelings had been real—he hadn’t been manipulating them with lies—but something inside him had taken the feelings, amplified them, and made them far more effective than Ben on his own could ever hope they could have been.

  And now, they’d promised to come when he called, to aid him in getting to Julio, but over a week had passed and he’d done nothing to move his plan along, beyond thinking vaguely about what he might do and where he might do it.

  The problem—the main one, at least—was that he had no idea where to find Julio, except for the rambling complex of warehouses he used as a headquarters. He’d only met the man a handful of times, never for more than a couple of minutes; his people had handled most of the delivery instructions. But he knew Julio didn’t venture far from his domain very often, and he had no way to track him when he did. His father had never taught him a tracking spell, and his attempt to see if his newfound abilities included locating people by merely wishing he knew where they were didn’t get him anywhere.

  Besides, he decided, it would be better to take Julio out in front of the people whose respect he craved. It wouldn’t be good enough to simply kill him. He needed to die in front of his entourage of flunkies, hangers-on, and sycophants. But that added a whole host of new problems, including how to get in and get close to him without anyone recognizing him. Sure, he could use a magical disguise to hide him until it was too late, but he didn’t think he could do it alone. Hence his request to the kids.

  But those kids wouldn’t wait forever. He could see it in their faces, in their auras: they were already uncomfortable with the plan. They’d agreed to help because he’d convinced them they owed him for the gift he’d given them, but that didn’t mean they’d always feel that way. Teenagers were great at rationalizing what they didn’t want to do, and the longer he went without pulling the trigger on the plan, the more chance one or more of them might drift away, lured off to use their magic to make their own way. But still he’d done nothing.

  Until tonight, when he couldn’t let it go any longer.

  Ben sat up in bed, his body bathed in sweat and his head tingling. Something was wrong. He couldn’t identify what it was, but his odd new sense was trying to tell him something. Was it something about the kids? About Julio?

  Had Julio somehow gotten word that Ben was after him?

  He didn’t think that was it. Hell, Julio probably didn’t even remember him after all this time, and that in itself contributed to Ben’s rage. How could you order the death of somebody’s mother and not even remember him?

  He clenched his fists around the sheets and tried to control himself. New Ben battled with old Ben, who at this point would have been satisfied with leaving town and starting a new life somewhere else, but from the beginning there was no question about which of them would win.

  Ben looked at the clock on the nightstand: 4:45 a.m. It was Saturday. Tonight, Julio’s club would be in full swing, which meant there would be even more people present to watch his downfall.

  He’d try hard to keep his word to the kids, to make sure nobody but Julio got hurt. Maybe a couple of his bodyguards if they got in the way. But, new Ben pointed out to old Ben’s horror, if a few of them got caught in the crossfire, that wouldn’t be his fault. They shouldn’t have associated with murderers.

  He lay back, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. He would take the day to prepare, to enjoy himself—something he hadn’t been able to truly do since Ma had died. Tonight, he would contact the five kids he’d trained. He didn’t need a plan. His new, improved magical abilities would get him where he needed to go.

  By the end of the night, Julio would never hurt anyone again.

  37

  The first thing Stone noticed when he awoke the following morning was that he’d slept far later than he’d expected to. The events of the last couple of weeks must have finally caught up with him, which he supposed had to happen at some point, but these days he rarely got to sleep past eleven. He sat up, pushing Raider off his chest, feeling as if there was something he was supposed to remember.

  Verity.

  She hadn’t called him back yet. He plucked the phone from his nightstand and checked both the texts and the voicemails. Nothing new from her, or anyone else.

  That was odd. He knew he’d said it wasn’t urgent, but he had asked for her help. She didn’t usually ignore his messages for that long. After considering for only a moment, he punched her number.

  The phone rang three times and went to voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message.

  She’s probably asleep. She and Jason were out late at the party last night.

  But what if something had happened at the party? What if they’d found Daisy but run into trouble? What if Ben Halstrom had figured out somebody was looking for Daisy and ambushed them?

  “Enough,” he said aloud in disgust, prompting Raider to give him a curious head tilt. You’re acting like an overprotective father, which isn’t a good look for you. She can take care of herself, and doesn’t need you hovering over her like a mother hen.

  Still…

  Ignoring his embarrassment, he punched Jason’s number.

  This time, the line picked up after two rings. “Hey, Al.”

  “Good morning.”

  “Almost afternoon now. I’ve been up for hours.”

>   “Well, gold star for you. I’m looking for your sister. Did you two end up going to that party last night?”

  There was a pause. “Yeah. We did.”

  “And did you find Daisy?”

  “Yeah.”

  Clearly, there was something Jason wasn’t saying. “Do you want to tell me the whole story? Is Verity all right? She’s not answering her phone.”

  Another pause. “She’s okay, Al. Last night didn’t go exactly as we expected.”

  Stone tensed. “What’s that mean? Did something go wrong? Did something happen with Daisy?”

  “Sort of. I should probably let V tell you about this.”

  “No, I think you should tell me. What’s happened?”

  Stone listened in growing shock as Jason gave him a summary of the events at the party. He slumped back to the pillow and didn’t bother shoving Raider away when the cat snuggled into the crook of his arm. “Oh, bloody hell. So now you have no idea where Daisy is, you’re hoping she’ll get back to you if Halstrom contacts her again, and the Harpies are angry at Verity.”

  “Yeah, that’s about the size of it. She had it out with them last night, and she says things are okay—or at least they’ll probably get there—but I know she’s pretty bummed about it.”

  “Damn…”

  “Yeah. I hung around the area last night until I heard back from her, but she told me to go home. She said she wanted to be alone last night.” He sighed. “Al…”

  “Yes?”

  “You didn’t hear this from me, and don’t tell her I said so, but—I think you should call her. Maybe even go up there and talk to her. She doesn’t want to hear from me. I don’t think I can help this time. But maybe you can. I’ll admit it, I don’t really get the whole dynamic of what’s going on with you and V and Kyla, but maybe hearing from you might help her.”

  Stone sat up again, earning him an indignant would you just stay still? glare from Raider, and ran a hand through his hair. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude—”

  “Trust me. I know V pretty damn well. You won’t be intruding. And I know she wanted to talk to you about last night.”

  “So why isn’t she answering my calls?”

  “Who knows? Maybe she put her phone on silent. Maybe she’s asleep. Or maybe she’s just upset. How many times have you gone off and drunk yourself stupid when you were worked up about something? Maybe she did her version of that.”

  Stone wasn’t sure Jason was right in this case, but it couldn’t hurt. All she could do was tell him to mind his own business. “All right, Jason. I’ll do that, a little later today. If she did get herself good and drunk last night, she won’t welcome hearing from me until she’s got herself sorted out, and I need to take care of a few things. Perhaps I’ll drive up there this evening and see if she’s interested in dinner.”

  “Yeah. Good idea. Hey, did you find out anything last night? You said you were gonna try to use a tracking spell to find Ben. I take it that didn’t work.”

  “No, it didn’t.”

  “Isn’t that weird? You don’t think he’s dead, do you? Or left the area?”

  “No…no, I don’t. I can’t go into details right now—as I said, I’ve got to take care of some things. But I think he’s still in Oakland, and possibly more dangerous than we thought he was.”

  “That doesn’t sound good. Make sure you tell V that, okay? It’s bad enough she’s got the Harpies pissed off at her without having some crazy mage come after her.”

  “I will—but I don’t think she’s got anything to worry about. Honestly, I’m more worried about Daisy and the rest of those kids.”

  38

  Stone still wasn’t sure what he was doing wouldn’t make things worse with Verity.

  It was almost eight-thirty, already dark when he found a spot to park the BMW two blocks from her apartment building. He put the disregarding spell up on the car without conscious thought and walked slowly up the street, hands in his pockets and thoughts whirling.

  He’d tried to call her again earlier, and texted her twice. She’d finally responded earlier this afternoon, with a single-line text: I’m OK. Talk later.

  The text almost dissuaded him from his plan. What right did he have to intrude on whatever she was going through, if she didn’t want to see him? But the truth was, he needed to know what she’d found out at the party—Jason didn’t know the whole story—and besides, she’d certainly intruded on him enough times when he’d been content to wallow at the bottom of a bottle. Sometimes you had to know when to read between the lines. If he showed up and she told him to get the hell out, he’d leave. At least then he’d know she hadn’t done anything foolish.

  Her building was big and ugly, a dark, three-story wooden structure squatting like a wart in the middle of a sketchy neighborhood. If Verity had been anyone else—anyone mundane, anyway—Stone would have been concerned about her living there, but with her magical abilities she was more than up to the task of handling the area’s crime. He’d helped her with her wards when she’d first moved in; between the two of them they’d ensured she’d know if anyone tried to enter the place without authorization, and that any strangers who did try would be subtly dissuaded from their plan. Stone chuckled as he thought about the fate of anybody who managed to get past the wards. He never worried about Verity’s ability to defend herself anymore. She could be nastier than he was if she thought someone was trying to mess with her or someone she cared about.

  He mounted the stairs to the second floor, noting the familiar scents of spicy cooking, dueling musical selections, and faint hint of mold and dirty socks in the stairwell. He shifted to magical sight as he reached the top, noting with satisfaction that her wards, along with Hezzie’s at the end of the hall, appeared undisturbed.

  Last chance to back out, before you look like a complete insensitive prat.

  A moment later he knocked on Verity’s door, surprised that his heart rate had picked up.

  There was no answer.

  “Verity? Are you in there? It’s me.”

  Still no answer, but he thought he heard a rock tune playing softly inside.

  “Verity? Come on—I came all the way up here to see you. At least give me the courtesy of telling me to get stuffed face to face.”

  Nothing. The soft music stopped.

  Stone stood there, hovering between knocking again and turning to leave, when the tiniest of clicks sounded from the door’s lock.

  Slowly, still not sure he was doing the right thing, he turned the knob and pushed the door open a few inches. Inside, the room was dark, the curtains closed. “Verity?”

  “Come on in, Doc.”

  He winced at the despondence in her voice. Shifting to magical sight, he found her curled up in her favorite chair, staring into the unlit fireplace. He walked forward slowly, moving with the same care he would use when approaching a skittish wild animal. “I hope I’m not intruding. I assume if I were, you wouldn’t have let me in.”

  “I almost didn’t.” She didn’t turn toward him, and didn’t change her position.

  He moved closer. “May I sit down?”

  “Sure.”

  He took a seat on the end of the overstuffed sofa nearest her chair. “Jason told me about what happened last night.”

  “Yeah, I figured he would.”

  “I take it there hasn’t been any thawing in relations with the Harpies since last night.”

  Her aura moved as she shrugged. “I haven’t tried to call anybody, and nobody’s tried to contact me. Except you. Three times so far today.”

  “Yes, well, I’m sorry about that, but it’s not like you to ignore my texts. I wanted to make sure I hadn’t done anything to annoy you.”

  “You never annoy me, Doc.” A pause, and then a chuckle. “Well, almost never.” She shifted position, turning a little toward him. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way up here. I figured my earlier text would convince you everything’s fine.”

  “Really? I
was supposed to get that everything’s fine from ‘I’m OK, talk later?’ Especially after what Jason told me?”

  “Okay, maybe not. But I still didn’t expect you to drive all the way up here.”

  “Why not? If you were still in Mountain View, I’d have done it in an instant. What difference does a few more miles make?” His eyes were becoming accustomed to the room’s darkness now, so he switched off magical sight.

  “A few miles, hellish traffic, and no parking.”

  “Yes, well, you’re worth it.”

  “I’m surprised Jason didn’t come.”

  “He was the one who suggested I come. He didn’t think a brother is what you needed at present.”

  Again the soft chuckle. “Maybe he’s finally learning. Amber must be good for him.” She swung her legs around and stood, her stocking feet making no sound on the rug beneath the chair. “You want something? A Guinness, maybe?”

  “Thank you, no. I was actually thinking I might ask you to go to dinner with me. I assume you haven’t eaten yet.”

  “I haven’t…but I’m not really hungry.”

  “Is that true? Verity, you can’t sit here in a dark room all day.”

  “Seems to work for you. The only difference is, I’m not drunk off my ass.”

  “I had wondered,” he said wryly. “I know it’s not usually your style, but I know this past day has been…trying.”

  “I thought about it,” she admitted. “But I don’t keep a lot of alcohol in the house, so getting drunk would mean I’d have had to go out.”

  “Score one for inconvenience.” He patted the sofa next to him. “Verity—if you want me to go, I’ll go. Just say the word. But if you want someone to listen…well, I’m good at that.”

  She remained where she was for a long time. He watched the indecision dancing in her aura and stayed silent, waiting. Finally, she let out a loud sigh, stalked over, and dropped down next to him. “It sucks, Doc.”