Carry On Wayward Son (7 page)

Thou art not cloth

But flesh and blood.

I name thee Zach

Thou art he, between the worlds, in all the worlds,

So mote it be.”

Claire started wrapping the doll with the red thread, working quickly as Annie continued.

“By air and earth, by water and fire,

So be you bound, as I desire.

Your power is found, your power I bind.

By moon and sun, my will be done.

Sky and sea keep harm from me.

Cord go round, power be bound,

Light revealed, now be sealed—”

A furious roar cut her off. She looked over at Claire—and before Claire could stop her she sprinted for the door.

“Annie—” Zach appeared, so sudden Annie skidded to avoid running into him. Rage coiled around him, white hot.

“What have you done?”

*

B
efore Claire could reach them, Zach caught Annie’s arm and they both disappeared.

“Annie!” She ran to the stairs. Hillary appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Get back inside the circle.
Now
.” She would deal with the hurt in the girl’s face later. Limping down the stairs, she heard Annie before she saw her.

“You are going to regret every breath you take if you hurt them—”

“Free me.”

Zach’s rage smacked her when she hit the bottom of the stairs. She held on to the banister, breathed through the pain that blasted through her. A reminder she was not one of the protected.

“You scared a little girl half to death.” Annie nearly spat the words at him, fury swirling around her. “Trapped us in here when we only wanted to help, and you’re asking for a
favor
now. That takes nerve, asshole.”

God above, Annie.
Claire waited for retaliation. She knew her own kind, and guardians were simply a step below angels in pride and temper. Zach didn’t disappoint.

With a shout he flung one hand up. Claire pushed off the banister, tried to get there first. But the flame of gold shot straight at Annie. She let out a surprised cry and dropped to the floor, the denim over her left hip smoking. Claire skidded to a halt in front of her, ready to take the next volley—and watched as Zach collapsed, clutching his hip. The same hip Annie curled over, cursing like a sailor.

Furious blue eyes stared up at her. “I will harm, whatever the cost to me, until you release me from whatever heathen curse you laid on me.” He flinched, pressing his hand harder against his hip. Blood glistened as it slid down the black fabric of his trousers. “And I will continue to harm,” he raised his gaze to the ceiling.
“Until I am free.”

Annie clapped her hands over her ears as his voice thundered around them. Swallowing, Claire approached him, reached out to touch him, willing to give herself away in order to be sure what she feared wasn’t true. Zach rolled to his feet and backed away from her. When she started to follow he threw a gold streak that burned a line across the wood floor. Inches from her feet.

“Help your friend,” he said, his voice low and calm. A voice someone in pain would respond to, believe in. Trust. “I am—sorry—”

“You should be.” Instead of placating, Claire let her temper take control. She crouched beside Annie, laid a hand on her shoulder. Annie glanced up at her, nodded. “What the hell kind of guardian are you, hurting people like that? People you are sworn to protect, at whatever cost.”

Remorse crossed the angular face, quickly followed by suspicion. “How do you—”

“How long before they punish you? Why haven’t they punished you? It should have been immediate—the moment you threatened, never mind actually hurting a mortal.”

“Who are you?”

Heat flared in her amethyst. Ignoring it, and the warning, she stood, kept herself between Annie and Zach. “Your worst enemy, if you do not—”

Before she could finish he sprang forward. Pain tore through her the moment he made contact. His arms caught her in an embrace—and Annie’s scream cut off as he thrust them both into breathless darkness.

They tumbled to the floor. Claire cried out, her bad leg slamming into bare hardwood. Strong hands lifted her, settled her against the wall.

“Forgive me,” Zach whispered. He brushed hair off her face, lifted her chin until she met the fierce blue eyes. Shame and anger fought each other in their depths. “I will not step back, or give in to your demands. I mean to stay, to live. Whatever it takes to have this, I will do.”

He laid his hand on her leg. Claire couldn’t stop him, prayed he couldn’t see, couldn’t feel her power through the widening cracks in Azazel’s wall. Warmth spread from his hand, through her skin and into bone. She had no idea guardians could heal physical wounds—their realm had always been healing the spirit. The pain ebbed, faded, and she let out her breath.

“Thank you.”

“I am not a monster.”

“Someone looking in from the outside would think differently.”

He stood, temper flaring around him like an angry storm. “They will not have the chance. This must end today. I will have my life today.”

He disappeared. Claire waited, until she was certain, and got to her feet. Her leg felt—wonderful. No nagging ache, no stiffness. The euphoria of that carried her to the door, and died when she found it was locked. With no keyhole on her side of the latch.

*

“
C
laire—” Annie started to push herself up when her friend disappeared with that bastard. Pain roared across her hip, dropped her. “Damn it—”

“Annie!” The panicked cry snapped her head up. Hillary scrambled down the stairs, dark hair flying around her. “Annie, are you okay? Where’s Claire?”

“I’ve been better. Zach took her.”

“No—this is my fault—we have to—”

“Not your fault, honey. Claire would be the first to tell you not to blame yourself. Hey,” she took Hillary’s hand when she saw tears filling the girl’s eyes. “She’ll be okay.”
Or I’ll kill the bastard myself. I don’t care what he is.
“Look at my ring. It’s powerful protection, and lets me know when there’s trouble. See how it’s glowing? That means Claire’s okay. If it starts sparking, then we’ll have something to worry about. That, or I’m really mad.” She smiled. “It’s also my own personal mood ring.”

Laughter bubbled out of Hillary. “Seriously?”

“To my constant embarrassment. He can’t take Claire out of the house, because he can’t leave. We managed at least that much before he crashed the party.”

Wincing, she shifted up on her side, tried to assess the damage to her hip. “I can’t get to it—”

Regina knelt next to her. “I’ll do it. There will be pain.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.” She sucked in her breath as fingers touched her hip, told herself she wouldn’t scream.

“I’m sorry,” Regina said.

Annie grit her teeth. “Okay.”

“Do you prefer rip or peel?”

Annie glanced up at her. “What?”

“Which band aid method do you prefer—peel it off, or rip?”

She swallowed, closed her eyes briefly. “Rip.”

“Hil, can you get the aloe out of the bathroom? And a glass of water.” Regina touched Annie’s cheek. “It looks like a bad sunburn. How does it feel?”

“Like I backed into a stove.”

“Ouch. Thank you, honey.” Regina lifted Annie’s head enough for her to take a drink out of the glass. The water cooled her raw throat. “Now, I’m going to pour the rest of this over the burn, to help loosen the fabric, and we’ll see what we have.”

Hillary sat, pillowed Annie’s head in her lap. “Just relax. Mom’s really good at this.”

“Accident prone?”

Hillary smiled. “Yeah.”

“Me, too. Major—” She flinched as water slid over the burn, took in a shaky breath. “Major growth spurt at twelve equals clumsy teenage years. You grow out of it—oh, damn—”

“Sorry.” Regina held on to her leg as air hit bare skin. “I’m going to squeeze some aloe on it. I’m afraid after the cooling relief that it’s going to sting.”

Sting was an understatement. Only Hillary’s presence kept Annie from cursing more than she already had. But she knew from experience it would feel better once the raging burn settled.

“Hillary.” Annie flinched at her raw voice. Clearing her throat, she looked up at the girl. “When you first saw him, did you think he was a ghost?”

She bit her lip, shook her head, sneaking a glance at her mom. “I thought he was an angel.”

“Guardians are a giant step below angels. They were human once, and now they’re working their way into Heaven. So they have all our emotions, just enhanced—serious pride, a short fuse, and less compassion than you’d think, them being an angel now.”

“So, not the warm and fuzzy guardian angels of legend and lore,” Regina said.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“I never believed they were real.” Carefully, Regina laid the gorgeous silk scarf that was tucked into the neckline of her sweater on Annie’s hip. She cringed—more from the damage to the scarf than even that light weight on her burn. “I thought he was a ghost. I am so sorry I got you both into this mess.”

“Don’t blame—”

“I’ll take the blame when it’s due. So, what do we do next? I heard what he said.” She reached out to Hillary. “We both heard.”

“He can’t hurt you, Regina. Not without it doing the karma bounce straight back at him. On top of that, guardians have a low pain threshold, because they don’t get the joy of experiencing it very often.”

“How do you know all this?” Hillary studied her, those brown eyes too intent. “You can’t know—”

“I’m a witch, sweetheart. The real thing, not someone claiming to be in order to sell merchandise. That means I know far too much about a whole lot of obscure. And hanging around with Claire, I pick up things.” Hillary smiled. “Why don’t you help me sit? I think I can manage that. Then we’ll go for standing.”

Her head spun, but she managed to stay upright, two sets of hands steadying her until she could do it on her own.

“Once you’re ready,” Regina said. “There’s a bed in the guest room at the end of the hall.”

“No stairs—oh, bless you. I really,
really
didn’t want to climb all those stairs.” Regina laughed. “Do I sound as whiny as I think?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Mom says it all the time about Dad.”

“Hillary! Were you eavesdropping, young lady?”

“I don’t need to when you’re shouting.” She jumped to her feet, avoiding Regina’s hand. “I don’t need comforting, Mom. I’m old enough to understand you and Dad don’t love each other anymore. That he doesn’t want us anymore. That he loves some other woman more, wants her family instead of us—”

“Hillary.” Pain scored Regina’s voice. “That had nothing to do with you, and it’s not your fault—”

“It’s not yours, either!” Hillary turned on her mother. “And it’s my fault the guardian angel is here! I asked for him—I begged for him to come and take me away, so I didn’t have to hurt anymore—”

Regina stood and wrapped both arms around her when she burst into tears, looked over at Annie. “I am so sorry. If I had known—”

“We would have come, Regina. It doesn’t matter if he was summoned. But it explains why he reacts like a teenager with a bad case of angst—he probably was one, before he died. Claire told me once that guardians are matched by age. And that means our captor has all the rage of a teenager, and the power to back it up.”

*

C
laire pounded on the door. Again.

“Zach!” He didn’t answer the last three times she shouted for him. Fear curled through her at the thought of where he might be, what he might be doing that she couldn’t prevent. “Zach, please—” Silence answered her. Again. “Damn.”

 Feeling helpless, she ran one hand through her hair, followed the come and go sunlight to the window, leaned her forehead against the cold glass. Her fingers rubbed at the leather band on her wrist, still able to feel the raised scar under the thin leather. A scar she couldn’t look at without remembering every detail of the moment it happened—

Movement caught her eye. She raised her head—and pressed both hands against the window when she spotted Simon, standing in the yard of the house directly behind them. Just his presence soothed the raw edges. And gave her an idea. A crazy, probably wouldn’t work idea.

Searching the room, she found a small pad and pencil on the long dresser. Next to a cordless phone.

Claire laid her hand over it, closed her eyes. “Please.”

She picked it up and hit the phone button.

Instead of a dial tone, words poured out of the earpiece. Latin, ancient and powerful. She recognized the prayer—and with panic clawing through her she jammed her finger on the end button and threw the phone across the room.

No—you can’t cut him off and leave him here—it’s worse than being trapped Between—

“Which is exactly why they would do it—damn them—”

The crazy idea became a way to save their captor from a fate worse than forever in Between: being left here to live among mortals, never able to be one of them.

Using the pencil, she scribbled a note on the pink, floral edged paper, folded it into a square, and headed back to the window.

To her relief, Simon was still there—and this time he spotted her. She saw the shock, the relief, and the fear for her that swirled around him. All layered with the compassion that was so much a part of him. She wedged the paper through a narrow space between the frame and the sill, cursing when it stuck, just on the outside of the frame.

She turned, looking for something thin enough to slide under the window frame.

“Come on.” She started opening drawers in the dresser. Most of them were still empty. “I just need a break here—” Yanking open yet another drawer, starting to panic now—Simon couldn’t wait there much longer without being discovered—she let out her breath when she spotted a small manicure set.