The Gravedigger's Son - Darynda Jones Page 0,15
faster they got out, the quicker she could get him to an emergency room. The closest was probably Santa Fe. “You had a plan?”
He stepped around her, and she saw how he’d drawn the black salt on the floor. He’d created an outer circle around the entire house, then, at the back door, he’d drawn two straight lines, the width of the door, that connected the inner circle they stood in, to the outer loop around the house. The circle that had been around the table. The table now sat upended on the other side of the small kitchen, but the salt ring had miraculously remained unbroken.
He stepped to the part of the circle with the two lines drawn out from it and glanced at her over his shoulder.
Dora made the sign of the cross again and clasped her hands together.
Kyle hugged his clipboard.
Amber stood too close to both of them. Their emotions mixed with hers, and she didn’t know if terror actually filled her or if it came from her two friends. Probably a little of both. Without her sweater and with her tank now soaked with Quentin’s blood, she started to shiver. It wasn’t cold out, but it was just chilly enough to cause gooseflesh to sprout over her skin. Then again, that could’ve been the terror.
Quentin grabbed the dagger that had fallen just across the circle, drew in a deep breath, and broke the line by swiping his boot through it.
They waited, all four of them looking up, listening intently for any rustling sounds.
When all remained quiet, Quentin stepped into the little corridor he’d created to the outer salt line that ran parallel to the door. He turned to her. “This should contain the demon inside that part,” he signed and spoke simultaneously, pointing to the new enclosure he’d created. Again, his voice was so soft and deep, he was hard to understand, and Amber was beginning to believe he did it on purpose. As if he were embarrassed by the way he talked.
He unsheathed the dagger, dipped the toe of his boot into the salt near the door and then dragged it across, breaking the line.
They waited again. Nothing. And Amber released a breath. “The door?”
He tried it. The knob turned, and he slowly cracked it open. Dora and Kyle rushed through, not waiting. Amber could hardly blame them. But she and Quentin couldn’t get out of the crack he’d created.
The door pushed the salt along the floor as it opened, and he was careful not to break the barrier he’d created for the demon by widening it ever so slowly. When he opened it enough for them to squeeze through, he stepped back through the short corridor and gestured for her to go ahead.
“Oh. Right. Like last time?” She planted her fists on her hips. “You get to sacrifice yourself while I get away?”
A rustling came from upstairs, and she tore out of the house at the speed of light. If he wanted to sacrifice himself, fine. She was not waiting around. But she did stop, turn around, and watch as he grabbed the satchel that he’d brought in. It required him to step into the bad part, and Amber lunged at him when darkness entered the kitchen.
She grabbed Quentin’s arm and pulled.
He was right there with her. He rushed through the door, dragging her with him, then turned back and closed it.
Amber clung to him as if her life depended on it. Then, realizing her mistake, she jumped back from him and hugged herself. “Are you okay?”
He put the dagger back into the satchel and draped it carefully over his shoulder. “I’m okay,” he signed, suddenly unwilling to look at her. “We need to get cleaned up.”
“We need to get you to a hospital.”
“No. I can’t risk losing this one. I’ve been tracking it for a month. It’s been all over the place. I won’t get another opportunity like this.” He started walking toward the main road, clutching his stomach.
It was still early enough that only a few people were out. Oddly enough, they didn’t notice a bloody man with an Indiana Jones-style satchel, walking along the highway toward a dusty black Ford Raptor. Strange, that.
“Quentin, we look like we just walked out of a horror movie.”
He kept walking, unfazed.
“Quentin Rutherford. I know you can hear me. What do you mean?” Amber hurried to catch up. “How have you been tracking a demon for a month? How do you track a demon at all?”
“Later.