Michael (The Airel Saga, Book 2) - By Aaron Patterson Page 0,20
know what he would do with it. But he had to have it back. No, he didn’t. Where is it? Does Kreios have it? He might have kept it as a sort of talisman.
The Bloodstone that had owned Stanley Alexander was more powerful than anything Michael had ever known, and it was calling to him. He clenched his jaw. He picked up a sandwich.
“She is an odd duck,” I said, “But I love her.” I had to confess though, Kim wasn’t who was on my mind. It was She, and She was not helping—it was hard enough without her input, especially when it was so negative. “He almost died, sure…almost killed you too. Did you ever think he might have planned it all? Made sure he didn’t die, made it look like he was saving you, that he cared?”
I blinked. Why? Just so he can kill me again?
“Believe what you want, Airel. Maybe he wants you alive…”
We grabbed a quick bite and then packed up to leave…perhaps forever? I wasn’t sure.
Michael left Airel after lunch so she could go pack.
He ducked into the library, resolved to check on her Book. He told himself that it was out of a desire to protect her, that he wanted to be sure he did all within his power to keep her safe, do whatever it took. But her Book was gone. All that was left was the old quill pen, the inkwell, a few old trinkets standing there on the mantelpiece.
Oh. She already grabbed it. “Impressive,” he said to himself, and turned to pack up what little he anticipated he would need for their trip.
I watched Michael twirl a set of keys on his finger. He had found them in the kitchen. I thought that was just far too normal to be possible, but I guessed they were for Kale’s—Kreios’s—black SUV. The kidnapmobile.
We found Kim, and then all three of us walked the massive spaces of the house one last time. The enormous ballroom with the waterfall windows, the midday sun glittering through into the space like God’s own disco ball, the impossible kitchen, down the long and dark hallway that Michael and I had been carried, one at a time, when we were first-date-first-time prisoners—only this time back out.
Michael went first, climbing the stairs to the weird door that lay on the forest floor, opening it upward. He let it down slowly, wide open on the pine needle floor of the clearing. Above us yawned a dark portal to the Milky Way, door-shaped, massive ponderosa pines leaning in and up, and stairs leading right up to the edge of it.
It was otherworldly.
“How can it be nighttime?” Kim asked what we were all thinking.
“No clue,” I said.
“Let’s go,” Michael said, gesturing us up the stairs. For a while, we just stood at the threshold of the door in amazement at the night sky turning above us, millions of stars placed precisely in the indigo tapestry.
For me, it was all too familiar. It felt like the very night I had first been taken. I almost wondered aloud if it was. But that would have been too crazy, even for me, after all I had been through. “Let’s get going,” I said.
“Couldn’t have said it better,” Michael replied, shutting the door back on itself. It looked like a discarded random wooden door in the dirt, left by some random prospector, utterly forgotten.
The black SUV sat right where it should have been.
Had it ever moved? “That’s just weird,” I said.
Michael hit the unlock button and began loading our bags in the back.
“What’s that one?” I asked, pointing to a long hard case. It looked professional, like it was designed to hold guns or sound equipment.
He looked over at me and his eyes sparkled. “Oh, just some protection. I figured we might need them.”
“Them?”
He turned the complicated latches and opened the case. The gleaming blades of three different swords winked at the three of us.
“Holy crap!” Kim said.
The warrior in me smiled at the killer in him as he closed it again, shoving the case farther inside and packing my bag on top.
“Good call, mister.” Things felt a little dangerous, a little grown up, and I liked that.
“I guess we’ll find out,” he said. He loaded Kim’s bags and closed the doors.
“Does anybody else just feel weird?” she asked. “I mean, here we are basically stealing this dude’s stuff—even his car—I guess because we need it…I just don’t know.”