Invincible Chronicles of Nick

chapter 11



Nick knew he needed leverage against the coach. The coach had said it himself earlier that he’d taught at a lot of schools. If he’d made a habit of stealing, then it stood to reason that he wouldn’t be able to stay in one place long without people catching on. Or one of his students getting caught and ratting on him. That would explain why he was so willing to pick up and move in the middle of the year.

While Nick waited on Kyrian to come downstairs and approve the order for a new coat, he did an online search that turned up nothing. Mostly because he wasn’t all that well versed in searching for people. He needed someone with a lot more computer experience.

Picking up his phone, he called Bubba.

“You’ve reached 1-800-Ca’-Bubba. Sorry I’m not available to take your call. I’m either tied up tending someone else’s computer nightmare or am out ridding the world of its zombie predators. Either way, leave a message, and as soon as I kill whatever pains me, I’ll get right back to you. Thank you for calling, and have a positive day.”

Nick shook his head as he laughed. At least once a week, Bubba changed out his message. How the man kept a thriving business given his lunacy was beyond Nick’s comprehension. That being said, Bubba was extremely entertaining.

After hanging up, he dialed Mark.

“Fingerman here … Hah, you’re talking to my voice and not me. Unfortunately, I’m off with Bubba and not a woman ’cause I’m dumb. No telling what I’m into, but if this is my parents, I assure you I’m not doing anything illegal or immoral, and I ain’t disturbing no farm animals. However, please reserve bail money ’cause you know the stuff Bubba gets me into, and I might be needing it soon. Everyone else, leave a message and as soon as I get back to an area where I have reception again, I’ll return your call. Even if I have to do it from the great beyond. Thanks.”

Farm animals? Now Nick knew Mark meant cow-tipping, which had been a pastime of Mark’s from high school (one that had stopped abruptly when a cow fell on him and broke his leg in three places), but the way he had that phrased …

Yeah, Mark needed a VM editor.

Nick sighed as he considered his other options.

Wait … He knew another geek.

Madaug St. James. If anyone could give Bubba a run for his money when it came to computers, Madaug was it. His classmate had been born with a keyboard in one hand and a modem chip in his brain.

Besides, Madaug owed him for saving his hide from the zombies the moron had created and then unleashed on all of them.

He scrolled through his contacts until he got to the right number and called him.

“Hello?”

Nick let out a breath in relief that he’d finally reached a living person. “Madaug?”

“Yeah?”

“Nick Gautier. Um, I have a bit of a problem that I need some help with.”

“Homework?”

“Kind of.”

“What’s ‘kind of’ homework?”

“You know the new coach?”

Madaug growled. “The troglodyte who let Stone defile my gym shorts and then wrote me up because I wouldn’t wear them afterwards? Yeah, I know him, may he choke to death on a jockstrap not his.”

Okay, obviously Madaug had issues left over from PE.

“What do you need me to do? And does it involve any kind of vengeance on him?”

Nick nodded even though Madaug couldn’t see it over the phone. “If what I’m thinking is true, that’s an affirmative. I was wondering if you could do a background check on him and find out where he’s taught in the past and what his record at those schools was.”

“That sounds tedious. Why do you want me to do that?”

“’Cause I think he’s hiding something.”

“Like what?” Madaug asked.

“I’m not sure. Suffice it to say that I think he has some skeletons in his closet that might be interesting and useful to us both.”

Madaug paused as if considering it. After a minute, he agreed to be Nick’s accomplice. “Fine. But it’ll cost you.”

“Cost me what?” Nick was aghast. “Dude, you owe me. Big-time. So log off Doom and help a brother out.”

Madaug sputtered. “How did you know what I was doing?”

Simple. It was all he ever did. If you ever asked him how his day went, his response was always his Doom progress report such as how many creatures he’d killed and how many zones he’d opened. “An educated guess.”

“All right. I’ll get started and call you if I find something interesting.”

“Thanks, M. Appreciate it.”

“Any time.” Madaug hung up.

Nick set his phone aside as he heard footsteps approaching his office. He’d just switched back to the online shopping cart when Kyrian came in. “Hey, boss. I have your coat ready. I just need a method of payment.”

“Top drawer on your right.”

Nick opened it, expecting to see one of Kyrian’s credit cards. Instead, it was one with Nick’s name on it.

Totally stunned, he couldn’t breathe as he stared at the NICHOLAS A. GAUTIER on the Visa card. Wow, it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen.

Kyrian walked over and closed Nick’s mouth with his forefinger. “It has a thousand-dollar limit on it, and it’s for business purchases only. If you prove yourself responsible, I’ll get you one of your own in a few months with a higher limit. Deal?”

“Yes, sir.” Thrilled beyond belief, Nick entered the number into the fields and finished buying the coat for Kyrian. “I also spoke with Kell, and he said that he’d have no problem putting blades into the Ferragamos if that’s what you want.”

“Fantastic. When the shoes come in, make sure they get sent to him.”

“You got it.” Nick paused to watch as Kyrian pulled the curtain back to look outside at the dark yard—something that was highly unusual for him. Not to mention, he was surrounded by an air of melancholy. “Is something wrong, boss?”

Kyrian hesitated before he answered. “Not sure. I have a … I don’t know. Bad feeling, I guess.”

His words caused Nick to have one, too. “About me?”

He shook his head. “Ash would quote the song, there’s a bad moon on the rise. I have a feeling it’s summoning something that should be left alone.” He met Nick’s gaze. “Why don’t you let me take you home tonight?”

Yeah okay, Kyrian’s strange behavior was starting to freak him out a little. “Sure.” Another fear went through him. “Did they find another kid murdered?”

“No. It’s not that. I’d feel better making sure you and your mom are safe. Get your stuff, and I’ll take you now.”

He wouldn’t argue that. Nothing better than heading home early. He shoved his books back into his pack, then slung it over his shoulder. “Did Rosa leave already?”

“About an hour ago. Did you get dinner?”

“Oh yeah. Never had turkey tetrazzini before. It was really good.”

“You want to take some home for your mom?”

Kyrian’s generosity never failed to surprise him. The man was always thinking of other people. Good thing I didn’t stake him when I discovered his fangs. “Can I?”

“Absolutely.”

Nick headed to the kitchen with Kyrian right behind him. As he was pulling out the container and contemplating his employer’s unorthodox existence, a thought struck him. “How do you keep your anonymity in this day and age? Don’t people get suspicious over the fact that you don’t age?”

“Ironically, it’s easier now than in the past. People today don’t want to believe in the paranormal. Back when, you had a serious problem with Bubba and the mob and their pitchforks.”

Nick laughed. “I know you don’t mean Bubba Burdette, but the image in my head … Highly entertaining.”

Kyrian smiled before he continued his explanation. “That’s why Dark-Hunters have human Squires.” Which was what Nick would become once he was old enough to be sworn into the council. They were humans who made it their life’s task to protect their immortal bosses and the world that mankind as a whole wasn’t ready to accept. “With you guys coming and going during the daylight hours, it cuts down on people being curious. Our property is also listed under the Squire’s name.”

“Ah, I get it. So no one knows you exist.”

“Exactly. Rule number one. Be a part of the world, but not in it.”

Nick frowned. “Rule number one?”

“When we’re created and Acheron comes to train us, we’re all given a Dark-Hunter handbook. It has a list of rules we have to abide by, and that’s the first one Acheron teaches us.”

Dark-Hunters with a handbook. Who knew? But then it made sense that they’d have a code of conduct to abide by.

Which made Nick wonder about Kyrian’s past and his experiences. “Has the world changed all that much?”

Kyrian shrugged. “The toys are infinitely better. But people haven’t changed at all. Same concerns, same hang-ups. Different clothes. Different century.”

He made it sound so simple, but Nick had a feeling it was anything but. There was no telling all the changes and marvels Kyrian had lived through. The discovery of electricity, flying, television … toilet paper.

“It must be amazing to live so long.”

“Sometimes.” Kyrian put the container back in the fridge while Nick fastened the lid on his mom’s dish.

“Did you ever have a wife and kids?” Nick asked.

Kyrian hesitated as if the question bothered him. “Had the wife. Wanted the kids.”

Part of Nick told him to keep quiet, but he wanted to understand Kyrian’s strange reaction. “You miss her?”

His eyes darkened angrily. “No offense, I don’t want to talk about her.”

That told Nick much about Kyrian and his relationship with his wife. It made him wonder if she was the one who’d betrayed him and made him become a Dark-Hunter. Man, that had to suck to have your wife betray you, bad enough you’d trade your own soul for vengeance. “Sorry. I won’t mention her ever again.”

Kyrian’s features softened. “Be careful whom you give your heart to, Nick. Make sure when you hand yours off, you get hers in return.”

“Yeah, but how do you know?” Obviously Kyrian had been tricked. How could Nick avoid it when someone as smart and savvy as Kyrian had been taken?

Kyrian sighed. “That’s the trick. People deceive and they lie. The more you have, the more they scheme to take and the more often they try. The world’s an ugly place, and apparently many people think it’s easier and better to take from others than it is to earn it themselves.”

Nick frowned at the bitterness in Kyrian’s voice. “Then why do you fight to protect us?”

Kyrian gave an odd half smile. “Because every time I think that it’s not worth it—that the people in it deserve the misery of their lives—I come across someone who makes me rethink that.”

“Like who?”

He ruffled Nick’s hair as they left the kitchen and went to Kyrian’s Lamborghini. “A smart-mouth Cajun who worships the ground his mother walks on. One who was willing to lay down his life to protect two strangers from his best friends, even though he needed the money to eat. A woman who’s willing to debase herself to feed her son. Another who faced down a drug cartel in order to protect her family and her small town. That kind of love reminds me of the human I once was. People like you, your mom, and Rosa deserve someone to watch your backs.”

Nick thought about that as a warm feeling rushed through him. No one had ever said anything kinder to him, especially not someone so respectable and decent. Kyrian was the type of man he wanted to be.

“What were you when you were human?” he asked.

“An ancient Greek general.”

“Really?” For some reason, that surprised him.

Kyrian inclined his head as he pulled out of the driveway and headed toward Nick’s condo.

“Did you win any big battles?”

“Oh yeah. I was the scourge of Rome. Me and my friend and mentor Julian Augustus held them back and fought them off like machines. During our human lives, we were regaled as Greek heroes, and our stories were told for centuries after we’d died.”

That was truly impressive. “Did you die in battle?”

Kyrian let out a bitter laugh. “Hardly. There was no man alive who could defeat me. None.”

Suddenly Nick understood, as he remembered the one thing he had learned from his convict father. “It’s never the enemy without who brings you down. It’s always the enemy within.”

He nodded. “Guard your back, Nick. It’s the one you don’t see coming. The one you trust whose betrayal is most lethal. They know your weakness and they know how to hit the lowest. It’s when your back is turned and your guard is down that they move in for the kill.”

His dad had told him the same thing. “Sorry.”

Kyrian shrugged before he made a right turn. “Don’t be. Everyone suffers at least one bad betrayal in their lifetime. It’s what unites us. The trick is not to let it destroy your trust in others when it happens. Don’t let them take that from you, too.”

Nick nodded. “You think you’ll ever get married again?”

“No. Dark-Hunters aren’t allowed to date or have girlfriends. Marriage is absolutely off the table.”

“What about kids?”

“I’m dead, Nick. No ability to procreate.”

Nick cringed and cupped his boys in horror. “So you can’t—?”

“I didn’t say that,” Kyrian snapped as if completely offended. “We can sleep with someone. We just can’t impregnate them.”

Ah, okay. That made sense. “Can you get any diseases?”

“No.”

Nick fell silent as he contemplated what it would be like to be impervious to illness. He watched the traffic speed past them as Kyrian turned into his neighborhood. Dilapidated and junked up with broken-down cars and browned-out lawns, it was a stark contrast to Kyrian’s immaculate stomping grounds.

Sighing, Nick saw the stark, weathered duplex he and his mom called home.

Kyrian parked out front. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Stay safe.”

“Always. Call me if you need anything.”

Nick nodded as he opened the door and got out. He didn’t move until Kyrian had gone, then he turned around and headed up the broken sidewalk that led to his house.

Menyara came out of her side to greet him. Tiny and beautiful, she’d been the midwife who brought him into this world. For reasons she never really went into, she’d taken his mom in when his mom had been pregnant with him. Aunt Mennie had been with him the whole of his life, and she was the only family he and his mom had. Dressed in a flowing white skirt and light blue top, she had her Sisterlocks pulled back from her face with a white scarf.

“Hi, Aunt Mennie.”

She hugged him as he drew near her. “Where you been, boo?”

“At work. Mom home?”

She nodded. “I was heading over to see if she wanted to watch TV tonight.”

Since they didn’t have a set of their own, Mennie often let them watch it at her place. She also shared her phone with them.

Nick opened the door to their tiny condo, which was basically two rooms. His mom’s small bedroom and then the “big” room that had a kitchen area in it. On the far wall was his room, which consisted of blue blankets strung up on a wire. His mom and Mennie had made it for him once he hit puberty so that he could have some degree of privacy.

His mom sat on their one and only barstool at the breakfast counter, reading the paper. She looked up and smiled at their entrance.

Nick dropped his backpack by the door before he crossed the small area to hug her. “What are you doing?”

Mennie closed the door, then moved to join them.

“I was looking to see if there might be an apartment for rent in the Quarter.”

He didn’t know who was the most stunned by his mom’s unexpected words. Him or Menyara. “Really?”

Mennie arched a brow, but she didn’t say anything.

“Nothing against you, Menyara,” his mom said quickly. “You know how much I love you and how grateful I am for everything you’ve done.”

“But you want to be closer to work,” Mennie’s Creole accent was thicker than normal.

His mom nodded. “And Nick’s school. He’s always having to run for the streetcar. I’d like for him not to have to start the day off in such a panic.”

“The devil is sitting on icicles, isn’t he?” Nick asked.

She laughed. “No, sweetie. It’s just … you wouldn’t believe what people tip at Sanctuary. Oh my God, I had no idea. Between my salary and tips, I’m making four times the money I used to.”

Nick gave her a hopeful grin.

She screwed her face up at him. “All right. Both you and Bubba are forgiven for getting me fired.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I was thinking of taking you and Mennie out to eat tonight to celebrate.”

That sounded great, but there was one little problem. “I’m stuffed. Rosa made this turkey tetrazzini that is unbelievably tasty. I brought some home for you, too. There’s even enough for Mennie.” He returned to his backpack to dig it out.

No sooner had he put his jersey on the floor than his mother sucked her breath in sharply.

Nick froze at the sound that usually heralded him getting into trouble. “Something wrong?”

“What are you doing with that?” She pointed at his shirt.

He glanced down at it and wondered why its presence had warranted her reaction. “The coach wants me back on the team.”

His mom appeared skeptical. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. They’re short a few guys for the team, so…”

“You don’t seem happy about it,” Menyara said. That was the only drawback to Mennie. She had the gift of second sight and knew all kinds of things about him that he didn’t say.

He gave them both a fake smile. The last thing he needed was for them to find out what the coach wanted from him. God help him if Mennie figured that out. “I’m happy.”

“Nicky. I’m your mom. Don’t lie to me. What’s wrong?”

His coach was a psycho, that was what was wrong, but he couldn’t tell her that. If he did, she’d go marching into the office and cause such a stink that he’d be framed for sure. When it came to him, his mom tended to lose all sanity. “Nothing. I promise.”

She gave him a look that said she wasn’t convinced. Luckily, Mennie distracted her while he pulled out the leftovers and took the container to the kitchen.

As soon as they were done eating, Mennie and his mom headed over to Mennie’s to watch TV while he stayed in on the pretext of doing homework.

Not an entire lie. He was working on something that involved school.

Once he was sure he wouldn’t be disturbed, he called Madaug again.

“What?” Man, Madaug didn’t even bother to disguise his irritation at being interrupted.

“Have you found anything?” Nick asked.

“No.”

“Nothing?”

“You’re missing my point, Nick. I haven’t uncovered anything at all. This guy’s a complete ghost. There’s no background on him that can be found. Not a school in this country has a Coach Devus, and with a name that unusual, he should be pretty easy to find. Right?”

Nick sat there, trying to digest it. Madaug was right. They shouldn’t have any trouble finding information on a guy with a name like that. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. The only Coach Devus I can find was one who coached at Georgia Tech in—get this—1890.”

“1890?” Nick gaped. “Like over a hundred years ago, 1890?”

“Yeah. He was the lead coach in the first rivalry game between UGA and Tech for the Governor’s Cup. Tech trounced the Dawgs 28 to 6. And get this … the next day, the entire team, including the coach, was killed in a fire that started in the building where they were celebrating their victory.”

“That sucks.” It was something that would happen to him. Crappy Gautier luck was the stuff of legends.

“Don’t it, though? Anyway, that was the only Devus I can find.”

That didn’t make any sense at all. “He told me he’s been coaching for years. He has to have a coaching history somewhere.”

“Can’t find a trace of it, and believe me, I’ve looked. I even hacked the school records. His résumé isn’t online. Without that, I’m stuck. I don’t know where else to look. I’ve hit more walls at this point than a blind mouse in a test maze with shifting walls.”

Only Madaug, whose parents were both scientists, would come up with that for an example.

Nick sighed as disgust filled him. He dreaded what was to come, but he knew it meant only one thing.

He’d have to search the coach’s office and see if he could find something about his past. Crap. Crap. Crap. How do I always get into these things?

Whatever he’d done in his previous life that warranted the misery of this one, he hoped he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

C’mon, Nick. Think. There has to be another way.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t. This was it. He’d have to go in and pray he didn’t get caught.

“All right,” Nick said. “I’ll get more information for you tomorrow. Thanks for looking it up for me.”

“De nada. And be careful. I don’t know why, but he creeps me out.”

Given the fact that Nick was pretty sure the coach had killed his classmate, Devus didn’t exactly fill him with warmth and sunshine. “Good night, M.”

“Bye.”

Nick hung up, then called Caleb, who answered on the second ring.

“You dying?” Was that a note of hope in Caleb’s tone?

Or was he being paranoid?

“No,” Nick answered, praying for paranoia but pretty sure Caleb was hoping he was on the brink of death.

Caleb let out a deep breath. “Then why are you calling me?”

“I was wondering if you knew anything about Devus.”

“Other than he’s our new coach?”

“Yeah, Caleb. Something a little more than that.”

“Not really. Why?”

Nick hesitated, then decided this was the one creature he could trust with the truth. “He threatened me earlier.”

Caleb materialized right in front of him with his phone still in his hand. “What do you mean, he threatened you?” he said in his demon’s tone.

Now that was service. Completely shocked by the sudden appearance, Nick looked from the phone in his hand to Caleb, then back again. Yeah, okay, so he knew Caleb had demon powers and such, but dang …

Impressive.

He hung up the phone, since he obviously didn’t need it any longer to talk to Caleb. “He told me that if I didn’t steal some things for him, he’d have me put in jail.”

Caleb snorted. “And you believed something that stupid?”

Offended to his core, Nick glared at him. “Stupid or not, I’m pretty sure he’s the one who framed Dave and then had him killed while he was in lockup tonight.”

Caleb rolled his eyes, which set off his temper. “Nick, really? Your paranoia should be in a record hall of fame somewhere.”

“I’m not paranoid,” he growled. “Use your powers and see. I’m telling you the truth.”

Caleb gave him a look of irritation before he closed his eyes and concentrated.

Feeling cocky, Nick folded his arms over his chest and tapped his foot. Now the truth would come out and he’d be vindicated and one vicious demon would owe him a massive apology.

One Caleb was going to serve with a huge slice of humble pie.

After a few minutes, Caleb opened his eyes. “I’m not getting anything.”

Dread went through Nick. He had a feeling this wasn’t good, and he was about to have to put the humble pie back in the oven. “What do you mean?” he asked apprehensively.

Caleb’s cold stare went right through him. “The coach is human. I know that much, but…”

Hope came back as he mentally put an oven mitt on the pie again. “But what?” Nick asked.

Caleb shrugged. “It’s like he’s a wraith.”

“A ghost?”

“Not exactly. Wraiths are apparitions who appear in the form of someone who’s living.”

Nick was trying to understand. “Like an after image?”

“Closer analogy. But unlike an after image, a wraith usually appears right before someone dies … to the person who’s marked for death.”

Now that wasn’t something Nick wanted to hear. “You just made my flesh crawl.”

“Mine, too.” Caleb hesitated before he spoke again. “I’ve been around a lot of wraiths, and he doesn’t feel like that either, though. It’s a strange sensation. Like human wrapped in evil.”

“Oh, great. Our coach is a pig-in-the-blanket for Satan.”

Caleb let out a sound of frustration. “You know there’s no dealing with you when you’re in this mood. Let me do some digging and get back to you.”

“I’ll be here … unless the coach kills me.”

Caleb appeared less than amused by his attempt at humor. “Don’t let him in the door, and if he shows up, call me.”

“As long as the fingers work.”

With one eye fluttering with his annoyance, Caleb vanished in a cloud of red smoke.

Alone and worried, Nick considered everything going on. None of it boded well for him. In fact, he felt the flames licking his hindquarters. He had to get the coach off his back. That was the first order.

Wanting more answers, he thought about consulting his book again, but the last thing he needed was another migraine.

No, this was something he could figure out on his own. He was sure of it. Sitting down on the pallet that made up his bed, he pulled out the coach’s theft list and looked over the items again.

Underneath Kody’s necklace was Stone’s class ring. Yeah … like that would work. He could just see it now in his mind. Him walking up to Stone and smiling. Hi, Stone. Would you mind handing me over your ring that’s made out of 24 karat real gold? One that had a real diamond in it? Just pretend I’m your girl and give it to me.

The werewolf would disembowel him.

But because that was on the list, he knew Stone wasn’t one of the coach’s “chosen group.” The question was, who else had been recruited, and why had they been chosen. Did Devus know about his criminal past? Nick hated that part of himself. Desperation had motivated him to do some things he wasn’t proud of, such as watch out for cops while his “friends” had shoplifted. At the time, it had seemed harmless—a victimless crime—and he made a lot of money that had helped his mom with bills. He’d convinced himself that it wasn’t hurting a real person, just some innocuous mondo corporation that didn’t care about people like him. He’d told himself the mondo corps preyed on people like him and laughed while they did it. That had been his justification.

On his last visit to see his dad in Angola, his mind had been changed while listening to some of the other inmates trying to excuse their crimes. Last thing he wanted was to be one of them, sitting in jail, blaming the world for his wrong decisions. Nothing was worth his freedom and self-respect, especially not money, and certainly not hurting someone else. If he could give back some of what Alan had stolen, he would. Unfortunately, he’d used the money to buy food.

But one day …

He would pay back everyone they’d ever taken a nickel from.

There’s no way the coach knows about that. Because the guilt was so harsh over it, Nick rarely thought about it, and he’d never once, ever told a single soul outside of Tyree and Alan, who’d been there for it. Since they didn’t go to school, the coach couldn’t have talked to them.

He doesn’t know.

Yet somehow, he’d singled Nick out of the herd for this awful plan of his. Looking back at the list, he cringed. The coach wanted something from almost everyone in his first two periods.

What an odd assortment, though. Watches, rings, necklaces, and two hairbrushes. Why hairbrushes? How could the coach get any money from that?

His phone rang, startling him. Trying to calm himself, he answered it.

It was Caleb. “Where’s Menyara?”

“Next door with my mom, why?”

“Do me a favor and go stay with them.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Yeah. I just crossed paths with a Fringe Guard.”

Nick frowned at a term he didn’t understand. “A what?”

“Fringe Guard,” Caleb repeated. “They’re bounty hunters who go after other preternatural beings. In this case, he’s seeking a demon who’s hiding in the body of a kid.”

“What’s that got to do with me? I have a demon hanging near me”—Caleb—“but not one in me.”

Aggravation was thick in his tone. “He was searching for a fourteen-year-old boy, Nick. I think we now know who killed those other teenagers that you and Ash saw.”

A tremor of fear went down his spine. Had the demon been in them, or had he merely tried to get inside them? “But I’m not possessed.”

Caleb cursed. “Would you stop arguing with me, Nick, and just do it? These aren’t the kind of creatures you want to meet on your own, and where there’s one, there’s usually more, and they’re not known for their mercy or humanity. So do what I said and don’t be alone. The last thing I want is for you to be interrogated by one.”

“Why?”

“Nick, I swear … stop acting like a three-year-old at bedtime and haul ass next door or I’m coming over there and dragging you myself, and you won’t enjoy the experience.”

“All right. Calm down. Put your horns in. I’m headed over.” He hung up the phone. Unlike Caleb, he wasn’t sure Mennie was strong enough to fight something like that. While she was a voodoo priestess with some rather impressive skills, he didn’t want to put her in harm’s way. However, she did have a lot of protection symbols in her home. Least he could do was make use of them.

Tucking his arm back into the sling, he got up and went for the door.

He walked outside, then shut and locked the door. Wrinkling his nose, he curled his lip. Ew! What was that godawful smell? It was rotten eggs mixed with fertilizer and a dash of vomit. Gah, it smelled like Stone had another accident in Chem class. He pressed his hand to his nose and started for Mennie’s.

But the moment he did, a shadow fell over him and he was grabbed from behind.