Gods Of The Stone Oracle

by Krista Walsh

  Vera worked hard to keep her breath steady. She had to keep her heartbeat under control if she didn’t want to bleed out in this cold, unpleasant room.

  Another flash of steel came as Rega pulled a second knife. A hint of glee entered his eyes, a brightness that reminded her of a child on Christmas morning when he opened his present to find the latest and greatest toy. As far as he was concerned, she was that toy, and he was about to take her apart.

  His lower body pressed against hers, keeping her pinned against the wall. Not that she thought she’d be able to get far if she pushed him away. Her legs were already weak, her head starting to swim. Another wave of burning pain ran through her, and her back spasmed, stealing her breath.

  Rega chuckled and set his other blade against her arm. “Should I pick up where I left off?” he asked.

  Despite her best efforts, her heart lurched and picked up a galloping pace. Memories flooded through her of his skill with his blades. She’d barely made it through with her sanity the last time she’d been a victim to it.

  But what could she do?

  Her hand fell to her side again, her slick fingers running over the hilt of the knife sticking out of her. A thought ran through her mind, and she debated the wisdom of her choice. To remove the blade would run the risk of her bleeding out, but if she stood here and did nothing…

  Clenching her teeth, she wrapped her fingers around the hilt and squeezed tight.

  An ominous cracking noise made her glance over Rega’s shoulder at the fight beyond. Gabe had thrown his trench coat over the head of one of the demons and had snapped its neck. She saw him shove the corpse against a Topan demon who had gone after Frank, freeing them both.

  Their drive bolstered her courage. She had the book, pressed safely between her back and the wall, and Frank knew where to find the software. She just had to get out of this.

  Rega had started pressing the edge of his blade down against her skin, but Vera butted her chest against his to shove him back, ignoring the pain of the knife as it sliced narrowly into her arm. In a smooth motion, she drew the blade from her side, a cry stealing from between her lips at the white-hot sensation, then swiped it through the denim of Rega’s jeans into his thigh. As she felt her blow penetrate, she dropped the knife to grab hold of Rega’s arms, bracing against him with all her remaining strength.

  He scowled and tried to break free, but she curled her fingers deeper into his flesh. She didn’t need to fight him now, and she didn’t need to strike another blow. All she had to do was keep hold of him.

  As though he understood that something was wrong, Rega’s brow furrowed with confusion, and Vera allowed herself a smile. Her legs felt weaker now, and she leaned against the solidity of the wall, channeling all of her strength into her hands to keep Rega exactly where she needed him.

  The confusion on Rega’s face grew deeper, then awareness slowly dawned in his eyes. He glanced down and tried once again to jerk away, but Vera refused to release him. She knew what he saw. Blood seeping through the front of his pants, staining his thigh and running down his leg to pool at his feet.

  All she’d needed was one good strike at his femoral artery, and he’d been too distracted by thoughts of torturing her to notice the quick burst of pain.

  His legs began to shake as horror took him over. Vera felt nothing but satisfaction. Later she would probably wonder if she should have felt some iota of pity, and what it said about her that she didn’t, but for now she enjoyed the moment. Gently, she pulled him closer, picking up the clatter of metal on stone as he lost his grip on his knife.

  “That’s right, asshole,” she said, adopting the same tone of voice he’d used with her only a moment ago. With sheer will, she kept the tremor out of her words. It didn’t matter that she wanted to sit down and close her eyes for a while. It didn’t matter that pain was sending sparks through her body, making all of her muscles want to spasm. She would continue to channel everything she had into her hands until this was over. “This is no illusion. You’re currently sitting on the brink of death, and I will not let you go until it’s too late for you to stop it. This is what happens when you cross a vengeance goddess in her element. You should have known better.”

  32

  As soon as the demons had moved into the room, Gabe knew how the scene would play out. Vera would take on Rega, while he and Frank faced the rest. It was the only way she would be satisfied. He knew how much the demon had scarred her and how badly she needed to work through it. But that didn’t mean he would leave her on her own if things went sour.

  He moved in a way that kept her in his periphery, but turned his attention to Humphrey, who had already summoned his red magic into his palms. Gabe was so intent on watching the warlock that he didn’t notice the computer monitor flying at him until it decked him on the side of his head. He stumbled into the wall and collapsed to his knees, but ducked in time to miss the monitor’s second attempt.

  Scowling, he turned toward Humphrey and lunged at him before the warlock could release another spell, taking him to the ground. He raised his fist to land a blow across Humphrey’s cheek, but before the strike could hit, the man began to scream. Humphrey flailed beneath him, his eyes wide with terror. Gabe sat back on his heels and looked around, wondering what the hell the man was seeing that had driven him into such a state. As he shifted, he caught sight of all the other demons except Rega cowering against the wall, some swinging blows at the air.

  Gabe turned toward his father and found Frank standing in the middle of the room with his fingers pressed to his temple. Gabe watched in awe as the Topan demon fled into the hallway, followed by the furred frame of a Kozkor demon. Illusions were one ability Gabe hadn’t been blessed with from his Fae genes. While he could see through them with ease, dropping them into others’ heads was beyond him.

  Seeing it in action, he wished he’d inherited that ability instead of his Gorgon curse. If he chose, he could turn everyone in this room to stone and end the fight before it even really began, but doing so would fill his head with so many memories he would lose himself in the deluge.

  But too soon, Frank began to flag. He dropped to his knees, his breaths coming in sharp gasps. The demons who had fled now returned to the doorway, the illusions having faded as soon as they’d stepped outside his father’s range. They sprinted toward the stooped Fae, but Gabe intercepted.

  The Kozkor demon snarled and spat at him. Its saliva burned a hole through his trench coat, but stopped before it ate through his skin. Gabe stripped his coat off and threw it like a net over the demon’s head, trapping it as it flailed. He yanked the coat closer, wrapped his arm around the demon’s neck, and used his other hand to push up its head and snap it. The demon’s weight collapsed in his arms, and he shoved it against the Topan demon, who appeared to have driven his fingers deep into the sides of Frank’s head, as though he were able to pass through flesh and bone to absorb the energy emitted by Frank’s brain.

  Frank was screaming as the corpse of the Kozkor demon landed against the Topan demon’s side. The sleek-haired demon’s connection with Frank snapped, and the two of them sagged to the floor. Gabe moved to put an end to the demon, but a blast of Humphrey’s magic caught him in the back, sending him sprawling across the stone. Apparently, Frank’s illusion had broken.

  Gabe looked toward Vera, and the room slowed to a halt. Rega had her pressed against a wall. Her face was deathly pale beneath her red hair, and a darker red stain was spreading down her side around the blade of a knife. Fear wrapped its fingers around Gabe’s heart at the sight of her trembling legs, and his Gorgon rage surged through him, filling his muscles and expanding his chest.

  He bent his knees, ready to tackle Rega to the ground, but another blast of magic forced him sideways from the second warlock in the room, the other man who had attacked them in Vera’s shop. Gabe flew into the wall, smashing his head against the stone. The arm of his sunglasses cracked, the sharp plastic digging deep into the corner of his eye so
cket. He slumped to the ground, grappling to keep his glasses in place, and rolled out of the way when Humphrey ran toward him.

  As he got to his feet, he saw Frank being flanked by the other demon and the second warlock. The warlock kept throwing spells, but by his aim and the expression of terror on his face, Gabe guessed Frank had dropped another illusion into his head. The Topan demon wasn’t caught by the same magic, though. Obviously still reeling from Gabe’s blow, his punches were weak and wobbly, but he moved fast, and regardless of how quickly Frank dodged his punches, more than one fist struck home. Blood seeped from Frank’s nose, and his face was red as he panted for breath.

  Before Gabe could do anything to help either Vera or his father, Humphrey’s fingers burned red, and the computer desk rose off the floor. He sent it toward Gabe, but Gabe ducked, and the desk flew over his head to smash into the other warlock, preventing him from casting an orange-tinted spell. The leg caught Frank’s shoulder, spinning him off balance, and the Topan demon barreled into him. Frank recovered at the last moment and wheeled back around to deliver a blow of his own across the demon’s face.

  Gabe spun toward Humphrey, who snarled at him and summoned more magic into his hands. Sweat was pouring down his face, and his left eye was twitching. Gabe remembered what Percy had once told him about this warlock — that according to witnesses, he was a coward who hid behind the strength of his colleagues. Sure, he could put up a good show, and he used his magic well, but if he could be brought down, he would cave.

  Time to put it to the test.

  Keeping his gaze focused on the ground, Gabe took off his sunglasses. The brightness of the room — although he knew in reality the lights were quite dim — cut through his eyes and sent bursts of pain through his head. Slowly, he trailed his exposed gaze upward, over Humphrey’s shoes, to his black trousers that were now torn and covered in dust, to the wide leather belt around his generous waist, to the row of buttons on his black shirt, to the open collar.

  That’s how long it took for Humphrey to turn and run for the door. Gabe didn’t let him reach it. He put his broken glasses back on and sprinted after him. Leaping, he caught at the backs of Humphrey’s knees and took him to the ground, then scrambled up so he straddled the man’s back.

  Taking a moment to breathe, he glanced toward Vera, and his heartbeat stumbled. Blood had pooled on the floor between her and Rega. A faint sheen of sweat covered her too-pale brow, and it looked as though she was bracing most of her weight against the wall behind her, even as her fingers were wrapped so tightly around Rega’s forearms that the demon couldn’t reach her. Yet. But it was obvious her strength was failing.

  Gabe slammed Humphrey’s head against the stone floor, then again when the man continued to flail. When the warlock’s body went slack, Gabe shoved off of him and hurried toward the pair against the wall.

  Just in time for Rega to fall to his knees.

  The front of the demon’s pants had gone dark, and for a moment Gabe thought he’d wet himself. Then he realized it wasn’t urine but blood that had soaked through the dark material and was now spreading across the floor beneath him.

  Vera didn’t release her hold.

  Gabe approached her, ready to move if she needed him. She barely looked stable enough to stay upright, and yet her power over the demon at her feet didn’t wane. It would have been so easy for their positions to be reversed — both of them sweating, both bleeding, both about to collapse — but she had come out on top.

  Rega grew paler and his body began to tremble. His mouth opened and closed as though he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. What did you say to the person who had just killed you?

  As his eyes began to sag, Vera shoved him away, and Rega fell onto his back with his knees still bent. He rolled onto his side, his fingers reaching across the stone, but he made no effort to move or get away. Blood continued to pool beneath him, reaching out under his legs toward Humphrey’s motionless body.

  “I guess it turns out I’m the better woman after all,” Vera said to the demon, her voice filled with more contempt than Gabe would have thought possible in her condition.

  Then she sagged, and Gabe hooked his arms around her waist to keep her from collapsing.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Help your father.”

  Frank was still facing off with the Topan demon, and although both were tiring, the demon carried more weight. Gabe approached behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. When the demon turned around, Gabe delivered a blow that sent him flying to the floor. His head made a sickening crack against the corner of the discarded computer desk, and he went still.

  The room fell silent except for the heavy breathing of the survivors. As soon as Gabe was sure his father hadn’t been too badly injured, he shifted his attention back to Vera. She was lying on the floor with her hands pressed into her stomach. Her eyes were closed, and the sheen on her brow had only increased. Panic grabbed his heart until he spotted the rise and fall of her chest.

  Gently, he took her hand in his, and her gray eyes opened, catching his gaze.

  “He didn’t get me as well as he thought,” she said, but he didn’t believe her for a moment. Not until he’d had a chance to see for himself.

  Keeping hold of her hand, he slid up the hem of her shirt, exposing the angry mouth of the wound staring at him.

  “Shit,” he said, the word squeezing through the thickness in his throat.

  Vera tightened her fingers around his. “I don’t think I’m going to heal from this as quickly as we need me to.”

  His throat began to ache with a deep burn. “I’m not leaving you behind.”

  “You’ll let the plan fail? I love you, Gabe, but there’s so much more at stake than us.”

  “There’s not,” he said, slamming his fist against the cold stone. “Either I’m staying here with you or we’re going to find a way to get you out of here. There are no other options.”

  “Let me see,” Frank said.

  Gabe jumped. He’d almost forgotten his father was in the room. He leaned back to give Frank space as he peered over the gash in Vera’s side.

  “Not a pretty one, is it?” he said, though his voice remained light. “You’re going to hate me for a minute here, sweetheart, but I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, all right?”

  Vera nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, her nostrils flaring with quick, hard breaths.

  “What are you going to do?” Gabe asked, eying Frank warily.

  His father gave him a tight smile. “I’m going to do what I can to save her. Fae blood’s not just about creating something out of nothing. It has some practical uses, too. Hold on tight to her.”

  Gabe did as he said, wincing as she squeezed hard enough to crush his knuckles together. Frank pressed his hand over the wound, and her back arched as a scream pushed through her lips.

  “What are you doing?” Gabe demanded, red filtering through his vision.

  “Relax, Gabe,” Frank said. “It’s almost done now.”

  Golden light filled the space under his father’s palm, blinding Gabe through his sunglasses. He turned to look at Vera’s face, the taut muscles in her neck, the way her eyes widened.

  And then the moment passed, and she sagged into the floor with a breath.

  “Vera?” he asked.

  Frank clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Give her a moment.”

  At the tremor in his father’s voice, Gabe turned toward him to find Frank pale and shaking, though his smile was still firmly in place.

  “Thank you.”

  Frank nodded. “You’re going to want to bind up whatever I couldn’t heal. It should seal up without too much of a scar, but in a place like this, I wouldn’t trust it not to get infected.”

  “It’s fine,” Vera said, her voice soft, but stronger than it had sounded a moment ago. “My body should be able to fight off any germs it picks up.”

  “In the state you’re in, I’m not taking any chances,” Gabe said. He straight
ened and pulled off his sweater and his T-shirt, vaguely aware of the bruises already forming across his chest.

  “You two act like you’ve been through this kind of thing before,” Frank wheezed. He cleared his throat and rubbed his ribs where the Topan demon had punched him.

  “It’s been an exciting couple of months,” Gabe said as he tore his T-shirt into a long strip. He wrapped it around Vera’s waist so it covered the wound, then tied it off. “Too tight?”

  She shook her head, letting her shirt fall back into place. Gabe pulled his sweater over his head and replaced his coat, cursing at the burn mark on the chest. He loved this coat. On a passing thought, he reached into his pocket, and released a breath on finding the cookie tin still safely in place. It would have been just their luck if it had fallen out and been whisked away by one of Rega’s lackeys.

  “Come on,” Vera said, easing herself to her feet. “We’ve wasted enough time. We need to get moving.”

  “Are you sure you—” Gabe started, then stopped at the look on her face. “Fine, but go where? Communications are out. We have no idea where anyone else might be. As far as plans go, I think ours is royally screwed.”

  “We can still reach the warlock casting the spell — Tyler,” she said. “We can’t give him any more time. And someone still needs to destroy the software.”

  Gabe shoved his hands through his hair. “We’re hardly in a condition to fight again on our own. If we run into another group like this, we’ll never make it.”

  As he moved, his glasses tumbled to the ground. Frank gasped and stepped away, but Vera simply bent down to pick them up, then set the one good arm over his ear.

  Frank moved in to grab her arm, but then dropped his hand to his side. “You’re not afraid of what might happen if you get too close?”