Airel: The Discovering (Airel Saga Book Two)

Part Four - Chapter I

Eagle, Idaho—Present Day

I SIGHED LOUDLY AND looked out the window. We had pulled in four houses down from where Stanley Alexander lived. Maple trees looked like they were on fire in a spray of yellow, orange, and red, with only a memory of green from the summer. Pines stood dark green against gray skies, and it felt as if I was on the edge of something.

I climbed down out of the Yukon and shut the door as quietly as possible. The neighborhood was empty. Fittingly, there were no signs of the police—they were busy cruising the blue-collar areas. There wasn’t even an Eagle soccer mom running behind a stroller. It was lifeless and foreboding. Kale pointed with a subtle jerk of his head up the road. I followed him along the little bike path.

The Alexander residence was all stucco and wrought iron. Fake Italian, like those wretched casinos in Vegas—my least favorite town in the whole wide world, because literally everything was fake. This house even had a similar scent. I wasn’t sure if She was helping me or not, but I smelled stench. Cigarettes—no, stale cigar smoke. I searched for Michael’s scent.

We approached the house. A three-car garage was attached to the right side, and a black BMW sat in the driveway, looking like it hadn’t been washed in quite a while. It was just like a horror movie, when the camera shows something completely normal and innocent, but the mind processes all of it in a different context. It chilled me; the wind gusted through a drift of leaves, and She stood up, taking it all in just as I was.

What do you see? I asked.

Be careful; he’s sleeping, but not like you think.

I could feel an augmentation of warmth filling my veins with power. My vision became much clearer, richer. Colors were bolder, sounds louder, and I could even hear Kale’s heart beat through his silly white Moses robes. I guess it works… Halloween is right around the corner. I reached out with my mind to try to read his thoughts. I didn’t know if it would work, but I had to try. All I got was static; nothing worth anything, so I gave up.

I followed Kale to the back of the house. Everything was wide open in this ritzy neighborhood. No fences or anything between houses. The grass was deep green, having come back from the oppressive heat of summer, and smelled like it had just been cut. I filled my lungs with it. Kale elbowed me to pay attention to what I was doing. I apologized with my eyes.

Before I knew it, Kale had drawn his sword-dagger thing. We entered through a sliding door into the kitchen of Stan’s house. No one sat eating lunch; no one had washed any dishes in quite a long time. Something was rotting in the sink. Probably in the trash can, too. Kale motioned for me to go to the garage while he stood guard. I knew, even without the benefit of reading his mind, that he preferred to avoid a confrontation with the Seer if we could.

I crept silently toward the white door that I assumed led to the garage. It was unlocked. When I opened it, I saw Kim’s back, her head slumped over on her chest, her body still taped to the chair. My heart failed me. Too late. She was limp. Dead.

***

UPSTAIRS, STANLEY ALEXANDER WAS sleeping. As he lay there, the creature within poked, prodded, and slid free of his body like excrement. It was not the biggest demon by any means, but covetousness, ruthlessness, and the will to act where others would not dare gave him rank and title.

He was called by many names. “The Seer” was one of them, and that because of the Bloodstone. His wings were long, black, and ragged, and hung around his twisted body like tattered sails on a forgotten ship. He pulled the left one free of the host and noticed for the ten-thousandth time that it had been clipped. The memory of how he had lost part of it made him seethe with anger.