The Sign of Seven Trilogy (31 page)

Over Fox's objection, Gage fired. Without hesitation, he aimed for the boy's heart.

The bullet cracked the air, struck the tree. This time no one could miss the look of shock on the boy's face. His howl of pain and fury gushed across the clearing and shook the ground.

With ruthless purpose, Gage emptied the clip into it.

It changed. It grew. It twisted itself into something massive and black and sinuous that rose over Cal as he stood his ground, fighting to hold back his dog, who strained and barked like a mad thing.

The stench of it, the
cold
of it hammered down on him like stones. “We're still here,” Cal shouted. “This is our place, and you can go to hell.”

He staggered against a blast of sound and slapping air.

“Better reload, Deadeye,” Cybil commanded.

“Knew I should've bought a howitzer.” But Gage slapped in a full clip.

“This isn't your place,” Cal shouted again. The wind threatened to knock him off his feet, seemed to tear at his clothes and his skin like a thousand knives. Through the scream of it, he heard the crack of gunfire, and the rage it spewed out clamped on his throat like claws.

Then Quinn braced against his side. And Fox shouldered in at his other. They formed a line, all six.

“This,” Cal called out, “is ours. Our place and our time. You couldn't have my dog, and you can't have my town.”

“So fuck off,” Fox suggested, and bending picked up a rock. He hurled it, a straightaway fast ball.

“Hello, got a gun here.”

Fox's grin at Gage was wild and wide as the feral wind battered them. “Throwing rocks is an insult. It'll undermine its confidence.”

Die here!

It wasn't a voice, but a tidal wave of sound and wind that knocked them to the ground, scattered them like bowling pins.

“Undermine, my ass.” Gage shoved to his knees and began firing again.

“You'll die here.” Cal spoke coolly as the others took Fox's tack and began to hurl stones and sticks.

Fire swept across the clearing, its flames like shards of ice. Smoke belched up in fetid clouds as it roared its outrage.

“You'll die here,” Cal repeated. Pulling his knife from its sheath, he rushed foward to plunge it into the boiling black mass.

It screamed. He thought it screamed, thought the sound held something of pain as well as fury. The shock of power sang up his arm, stabbed through him like a blade, twin edges of scorching heat and impossible cold. It flung him away, sent him flying through the smoke like a pebble from a sling. Breathless, bones jarred from the fall, Cal scrambled to his feet.

“You'll die here!” This time he shouted it as he gripped the knife, as he charged forward.

The thing that was a wolf, a boy, a man, a demon looked at him with eyes of hate.

And vanished.

“But not today.” The fire died, the smoke cleared as he bent over to suck in air. “Anybody hurt? Is everybody okay? Quinn. Hey, Lump, hey.” He nearly toppled backward when Lump leaped up, paws on shoulders to lap his face.

“Your nose is bleeding.” Scurrying over on her hands and knees, Quinn gripped his arm to pull herself to her feet. “Cal.” Her hands rushed over his face, his body. “Oh God, Cal. I've never seen anything so brave, or so goddamn stupid.”

“Yeah, well.” In a defiant move, he swiped at the blood. “It pissed me off. If that was its best shot, it fell way short.”

“It didn't dish out anything a really big drink and a long hot bath won't cure,” Cybil decided. “Layla? Okay?”

“Okay.” Face fierce, Layla brushed at her stinging cheeks. “Okay.” She took Fox's outstretched hand and got to her feet. “We scared it. We scared it, and it ran away.”

“Even better. We hurt it.” Quinn took a couple shuddering breaths, then much as Lump had, leaped at Cal. “We're all right. We're all okay. You were amazing. You were beyond belief. Oh God, God, give me a really big kiss.”

As she laughed and wept, he took her mouth. He held her close, understanding that of all the answers they needed, for him she was the first.

They weren't going down this time, he realized.

“We're going to win this.” He drew her away so he could look into her eyes. His were calm, steady, and clear. “I never believed it before, not really. But I do now. I know it now. Quinn.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “We're going to win this, and we're getting married in September.”

“Damn straight.”

When she wrapped around him again, it was victory enough for now. It was enough to stand on until the next time. And the next time, he determined, they'd be better armed.

“Let's go home. It's a long walk back, and we've got a hell of a lot to do.”

She held on another moment, held tight while he looked over her head into the eyes of his brothers. Gage nodded, then shoved the gun back in his pack. Swinging it on, he crossed the clearing to the path beyond.

The sun bloomed overhead, and the wind died. They walked out of the clearing, through the winter woods, three men, three women, and a dog.

On its ground the Pagan Stone stood silent, waiting for their return.