Chapter 19 – Soren
SOREN
Sitting on our balcony, I stare at the clouds off in the distance. My mind turns, wanting to pull me to the negative, but I refuse. Everything is going as according to plan as it can.
Our trap is set. We now know what to do. We just have to wait until night.
Overhead, thunder rolls and lightning splits the sky. It smells of rain and the promise of a serious outpour. Everything is lining up perfectly. Between the rain and the darkness, the hellhound should never see us coming.
And yet, no matter how many times I tell myself that things are looking up, I don’t feel that way.
My thoughts keep going back to Cerce. I still can’t believe we slept with her.
It was such a dumb decision. I don’t even know if I like her, or trust her.
But as much as I try to tell myself it was a mistake, the words ring false within me.
Outside, a woman comes into view, jogging clumsily down the path between apartment buildings.
She’s blond and tall, wearing tight jeans and a halter top.
As she comes closer, I recognize her as the waitress from the bar the other night, Stacy.
To my surprise, she heads up our stairs, and this close I realize she looks panicked.
The protective gargoyle within me flares to life. Something is wrong.
She pounds her fists on Cerce’s door, and a second later our beautiful neighbor opens it.
“Billy is missing,” Stacy says, then bursts into tears.
I don’t know who Billy is, but I’m instantly alert.
Cerce places her hands on the woman’s shoulders. Other than a slight softness that comes to her eyes, she looks fierce. “Tell me everything.”
The woman can’t seem to catch her breath between sobs.
Cerce’s voice comes again, harsher. “If you want my help, you need to tell me.”
Finally, between sobs, Stacy explains. “We were playing near the woods. Just—kicking a ball back and forth. I got a call. I took it. And when I turned around, he was gone. I found the ball further in the woods, but not him. If I tell anyone… I’m going to lose custody, Cerce.
His dad’s going to take him, and I’ll never see him again. ”
Cerce draws herself up taller. “It’s okay. Look at me. I got this. We’re going to find him, and he’s going to be fine.”
I’m stunned by Cerce’s calm demeanor. Is she this good in an emergency? Or does she just not care?
Either way, we’re gargoyles. We’re here to help.
Going inside, I kick Kage’s feet off the table.
“What the hell?” he says, shooting to his feet.
“There’s a lost boy in the woods. We need to help.”
Draven’s bored expression changes to one of concern.
“Come on,” I say.
They rise and follow me out the door.
The women are already at the bottom of the stairs when we emerge.
Cerce looks up at me, and our gazes collide.
It takes me a second to find my words. “We heard about the boy. We can help.”
Stacy turns, her eyes filled with tears. “No one can know.”
“We just want to help,” I reassure her.
Cerce’s gaze runs over us. “I trust them. Come on.”
When she turns, holding Stacy’s arm and dragging her along, she walks like a warrior. She neither slows nor seems to second-guess herself, she simply leads us down the sidewalk. After a time, she speaks to Stacy without slowing.
“Show us where you were playing.”
Stacy starts to cry, blubbering about how she can’t imagine what she’ll do if he’s hurt.
Cerce cuts her off. “Where were you playing?”
Stacy draws herself up a little taller, and her crying slows. She leads us off the sidewalk, and we walk until we come to a clearing in the woods. We continue on passed it until we come to a random soccer ball in the middle of the woods.
Cerce squeezes her friend’s shoulder. “You did well. Now, just stay here in case he wanders back. I’ll look for him.”
I feel an urge to take to the sky and search for the boy, but some instinct makes me follow Cerce.
She stops every few feet and seems to inhale deeply, staring in each direction. Then, seemingly at random, she starts heading in one direction.
We exchange a glance and follow slowly behind her.
She’s a strange woman, this Cerce. In her black shirt, jeans, and boots, she could look like any other woman, but something about her is different.
Special. I’m right about the way she walks and moves, it is unusually graceful, like a warrior.
And her gaze is scrutinizing as she leans down and touches slight marks in the dirt, or lightly brushes her finger along a tiny broken stem on a bush.
Normally, I think Kage would take charge in a situation like this. He’d lead us, and we’d follow, regardless of whether or not he knew what he was doing. The fact that even he follows submissively behind the woman says a lot.
It says he trusts her. And thinks she might actually be capable of finding the boy.
“Are you a hunter?” Draven asks.
Cerce doesn’t slow her steps. “Yes.”
“You seem to be able to read tracks and signs.”
She nods. “I’ve been hunting since I was a small girl.”
Again, we exchange a glance. Somehow I don’t think any of us had imagined the woman who cares for animals hunting, but then, she contradicts many of the things we’d expect in a young, beautiful woman.
Thunder rolls above us again and she freezes, glancing at the sky. “We need to find him before the rain comes and washes away all his tracks.”
Kage moves to her side. “Then wouldn’t it be better to call in the help of other people?”
Her eyes go wild. “Stacy’s ex is a fucking asshole. He beat the shit out of her and her son before she left him.”
We’re all confused. “So, obviously no one’s going to give him back to his dad.”
She laughs, a cold laugh, then continues moving through the woods, slowly and carefully. “He’s a powerful man with a lot of money. One misstep by her, and he’ll get his son back. And she’ll return to him to keep the boy safe.”
Draven shakes his head. “That’s impossible. No one would put a child in a dangerous situation—“
“This world does not protect women and children. Unless we protect ourselves, you can bet a man will come along to harm us.”
“Not all men are like that,” I say.
Her gaze meets mine, then away. “Good men are precious, and few and far between.”
“No,” I press. “There are lots of good men. Women just choose the wrong ones.”
She whirls on me. “The greatest thing that evil ever does is convince the world it doesn’t exist. So many men are handsome and charismatic.
The world sees them and can’t believe that anything bad could fester beneath such a convincing surface.
But they’re wrong. The worst kind of men are the ones most of you see as good.
Usually the people who see beneath all their falsehoods are their victims—usually women and children.
So don’t tell me the courts will see Stacy, a young waitress, and her ex, a smooth-talking businessman, and side with her after this.
Because if you think that’s how this world works, you’re wrong. ”
“Not every man is like your dad.” The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them.
There’s a flicker of pain that comes and goes from her expression in an instant. Then she turns and continues walking, speaking over her shoulder. “No one is like my father. But many people have his black heart.”
Draven shoots me a dirty look. “Don’t worry. We’ll find the boy. No one ever needs to learn that he was gone.”
I don’t understand why Draven is so eager to go with this plan. It would be smarter to have the help of more people. The boy could get seriously hurt out here. Or worse. Especially with the hellhound loose.
And yet, I don’t say anything more. I don’t know why.
Yes, every warrior knows there are bad men, but there are bad women too. My sister, Harleen, always said we’d fall for the wrong kind of woman. One who could bat her eyes and swing her hips and coax us under our spell.
If she were awake, I wonder what she’d think of Cerce. She certainly doesn’t speak with honeyed words. Nor does she bat her lashes and ask us to help her. On the contrary, she seems quite capable of taking care of herself.
I’ve never met a woman like her before.
Up ahead, Cerce freezes, then she changes direction.
Above us, thunder booms and lightning flashes. Then, a drizzle of rain begins to fall.
This is stupid. Cerce was right that any signs of the kids will wash away in the rain. We need more help than just us. We can’t just walk along like fools, hoping she knows what she’s doing, not when a kid’s life hangs in the balance.
“Let’s turn back and get help!”
She doesn’t even slow. “You turn back. I never said I needed you.”
I stiffen. “This kid’s time is running out.”
She moves faster. “Which is why we need to keep going and not waste time arguing.”
I look to Kage.
“I think she’ll find him,” he says.
My teeth clench together. “And if she doesn’t?”
He shrugs. “I think she will. She looks like she knows what she’s doing.”
I stop walking. “I’m going back.”
“Then go,” Draven says.
They continue to follow her, and I stare in shock. Since when do they ignore me? Since when does our Brotherhood split apart?
Angrily, I stomp after them. This is wrong. We hardly know this woman. Yes, she’s intriguing. Yes, she seems confident. But that doesn’t mean she knows what the hell she’s doing.
We pause when we reach a ravine. She holds up a hand, indicating we should stay where we are. Then she walks cautiously out onto an unsturdy-looking rock that juts out over the fall.
Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, my brothers and I watch her. Everything about her reminds me of a warrior as she crouches down and looks over the edge. When she looks back at us, her expression is fierce.
“He’s down there.”
My throat clenches. “Is he—?”
She shakes her head. “He’s hurt, but not dead.”
Moving off of the rock, she walks along the edge, then glances down. What the hell is she doing now? We should get her to go back and then just fly down and rescue him.
Except that’d blow our cover.