Michael (The Airel Saga, Book 2) - By Aaron Patterson Page 0,19

alongside him as the trail widened.

“So, do you really think we can find Kreios?”

“Sure. Besides, that’s what I’m good at. I’ve tracked guys like him my whole life. Kind of what I do.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“Google,” he said. “Get me a network connection and I can find just about anybody pretty quick.” He pulled a smartphone from his pocket.

“That thing survived the rain?”

“Oh, yeah. Are you kidding me? I don’t mess around with my tools. You could drop this into a bucket of water and it would be fine. I have people.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna hear about your people.”

“But seriously. This is a mil-spec case around it.” He pointed to his phone.

“So you have a 4G pocket protector. You’re a nerd.”

He just looked at me. “This is serious stuff.”

“I can tell, mister. But what are you gonna search for?” I wondered if he knew something that he was not telling me about where Kreios went.

“Murder. Crime. And in big numbers.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Kreios was beyond angry when he left. There was something uncontrolled about him. He wouldn’t even look at me.” He looked down as he walked. “Personally, I think he’s going after the Brotherhood clans, maybe one by one. He’ll go down the rank and file until he gets what he wants.”

“Which is?” I asked.

“Revenge. I’m betting he’ll leave a wake of bodies. We find the bodies, we find him.”

“Or at least a trail that might lead to him,” I added.

“Yep. I just need to get somewhere that has more bars than…” he checked his phone display, “than zero.”

We laughed.

“The Brotherhood has been waiting on word from Stanley, but they won’t wait for long. When they don’t get it they’ll know something’s up, maybe even by now, and start moving.”

“Hey, I agree. You made your point, okay?” I looked around as we walked, up through the trees and into the troubled sky. It looked like it had a stomachache; it was all churny. “Well…we should get going…I’m a little weirded out by this place anyway. With Kreios not here it seems kind of out of sync and wild…or is that just me?”

Michael looked at me. “I know what you mean. It does seem off somehow, as if time is different here.”

“Yeah, and have you even once seen a plane fly overhead?”

“Those are called contrails. Those little white trails they leave.”

“Nerd alert,” I said, pointing to his pocket where he stashed the phone.

He sighed at me. “Are you done?”

“Why? Want me to be?”

“Desperately.”

“Then no,” I said playfully.

“Okay. If I’m a nerd, then you’re a dork.” He nudged me with his arm.

It sent tingles through me. Just like always. I felt relieved by that, but all my words were stolen as a result.

He went on. “The seasons change by the hour…the weather has moods.”

Thank God he’s kept things going. “I feel like it’s based on my mood. When I get emotional it gets stormy. If I’m, like, normal, it’s all sunny. I don’t mean to sound self-important, but I’ve been watching it for a while now.”

Michael looked at me. “You need to cheer up. Dork.” He smiled at me, just a little too broadly, and I laughed at him and shook my head.

We finally arrived at the house, panting and grinning, still soaked to the bone but at least not dripping wet.

“Kim!” I called out as we walked in.

“She’s probably upstairs,” Michael said.

“Or in the kitchen,” I said.

“Try the kitchen!” Came a voice. It was Kim. We walked toward it and her. We turned the corner to find her standing at the counter by a plate of sandwiches. A duffel bag was at her feet. She turned to us. “’Bout time you two lovebirds showed up,” she said. “Kiss yet?”

I blushed.

“Ooooo,” she cooed, coming closer to me, “do tell!”

“Stuff it,” I said.

“How ‘bout you stuff it,” she said, motioning to the sandwiches. “I made us some lunch. And I’m packed. I’ve just gotta go powder my nose. You guys try to keep up, okay?” She scampered out, headed upstairs.

Michael watched Kim as she hurried off. “She’s an odd duck,” he said. The scar under his shirt burned, and he felt something call to him, back in a hidden place in his mind. It sat there, waiting: “Come to me—find me and be whole.”

He blinked and looked at Airel, his mind flitting over her Book, over the other books on that shelf. Anxiety filled him.

The Bloodstone.

He wanted Stanley’s stone. But, no, he didn’t. Why should he? He didn’t

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