Phoenix in My Fortune (A Monster Haven Story Book 6) (13 page)

We tore off into the woods, dodging trees and rocks, finally slowing to a halt at Tashi’s nest where the others had gathered.

Iris, our brave skunk-ape friend, had created this home with Tashi before he’d died. They’d collected brush and pine needles to form a huge bed large enough for a skunk-ape and a yeti to be comfortable, then draped it in fabrics and ribbons for privacy and style. I had no idea where they’d found the decorative pieces, but the Hidden could be astonishingly resourceful when they wanted to be. I stopped questioning it when I found out Maurice sometimes milked a neighbor’s cow when we were out of coffee creamer.

I hadn’t even known any of my neighbors had cows.

Tashi sat in her nest, arms curled in a protective hold around her babies, while Phil stood guard a few feet away. Riley and super-sized Gris huddled nearby, speaking in low voices. Sara and I joined them.

“Any news?” I asked.

Riley took my hand and laced our fingers together. “Not the good kind.”

Adrenaline coursed through my body. “What’s wrong? What did you find?” I was sure he was going to tell me they’d found Aaron’s body, though I had no basis for that other than a sick fear for the people I loved.

He squeezed my hand for reassurance. “Tashi set the babies down so she could give them a bath. She turned her head for one second, and Dasho was gone.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Tashi rocking and humming with baby Edie in her arms. Anger welled up in my belly and spread through my limbs.

“How the hell did he steal a baby out from under a yeti’s nose?” I glared at everyone, as if they’d been responsible. I didn’t actually expect an answer, and no one gave me one. “We know for sure it was him?”

Gris held out a hand filled with dead crickets. “He left these behind.”

I curled my lip. “Ew. Were they dead when you found them?”

He gave me a sheepish look. “No. I may have squeezed a little hard after I picked them up. I haven’t mastered the controls on this thing yet.”

“Again—ew.” I gazed at poor Tashi again. She’d already lost so much. My heart squeezed in my chest and I swallowed my own tears. I missed Iris, too. The thought that any harm might come to one of his children was unbearable. Any chance that Tashi would have to endure another loss made me want to throw my arms around her and form a barricade to keep her and her little one safe. Not that my puny body could barricade a yeti.

I pulled myself together. Now was the time for anger and control, not sadness and fear. “Everybody keep looking. Get everyone you can find to search. Keep in mind that, so far, he hasn’t killed any of the kids he’s taken. In fact, he seems to lose interest once he’s deposited them wherever he decides to hide them.” I lowered my voice so Tashi was less likely to hear me. “The greatest danger is time. We have to find them before they starve, freeze, run out of air—whatever he planned for them.”

Gris dropped the dead crickets and brushed his hands against his pant legs. “I’ll alert everyone in the area so they can join the hunt.”

I let go of Riley and held up my hand. “Except people with kids. They need to know not to take their eyes off their children.” I turned on my heel and started toward the house.

Riley jogged after me. “Where do you think you’re going all by yourself?”

“I’m going to try again to get that damn book to give up its secrets.”

Chapter Thirteen

Riley was reluctant to leave me at home while he joined the search party, but I wasn’t alone. Maurice stayed behind to throw together food for all the folks likely to be coming in and out of the house during the long search. Darius and Mom were on their way so she and I could stick together while Darius joined the hunt. Kam sat watch on the roof to make sure the house—and those of us inside—were safe.

Words could not express how bone-tired I was of being the protected target of some bad guy. I didn’t know if I’d ever have qualified as a delicate flower in the past, but I sure as hell didn’t now. But I understood the need for caution. I could honor it without actually liking it.

I crawled into the center of my bed and opened the leather-bound book across my folded legs. Aggie had spontaneously combusted and risen from the ashes as a phoenix in order to give us this book. This stupid, worthless, piece-of-shit book.

In the month that had followed Aggie’s death, I’d spent every day staring at the blank pages. I’d inspected the cover for secrets, even pried up an edge of the leather to see what was underneath. I’d gone through page by page in case a single word might be hiding in a seemingly random corner.

I’d ironed the pages, hoping heat would activate invisible ink. I tried lemon juice, black light and the incantation Harry Potter used to make his Marauder’s Map visible. I tried everything I could think of, no matter how stupid or unlikely.

The title on the cover was the only word anywhere on or in the book. And it was in another language. I closed the spine and ran my fingers over the embossed symbols. Molly took one look at it and shook her head when I’d first shown it to her. She could translate dragon, fox, gargoyle and any number of other animal and Hidden languages. This was not in her repertoire.

In movies, when someone needed a translation from some ancient text, they high-tailed it to a local university or community college and found a professor who just happened to specialize in the super-rare ancient language they needed translating.

I tried that. Aside from the difficulty of getting a busy professor to take me seriously enough to look at the title of a blank book, nobody had any idea what the language was.

One lady up at UC Berkley thought it could be ancient Sumerian, but the symbols weren’t quite right. Almost as if they were scrambled.

One asshole at UC Davis—an assistant, not an actual professor—suggested it was the language of reptoid aliens. He reeked of pot and wore mismatched socks. I decided not to take him seriously, though I admit, I considered it for a few seconds. I wasn’t about to dismiss anything.

So, nearly half a year after Aggie left us the book, I still didn’t have a single clue. She had said it was the Covenant—the thing Shadow Man and his minions had been trying to break to bring about their version of the apocalypse. Everybody seemed to think they knew what the terms of the Covenant between the First Hidden and humans were, but the truth was, nobody knew for sure. The Hidden government had, in their self-important estimation, believed their destruction would break the Covenant and bring about the end of the world.

Every Hidden government in the world had been brought to its knees over the last two years or so, and the world was still chugging along, business as usual. I found out the Hidden governments were really only a handful of centuries old anyway, so that little delusion couldn’t have been possible. The Covenant was as old as the Simurgh, the first Hidden to step out of the ether of story, the essence and substance of human creativity. That was a lot older than the short time the government had been around.

The next rumor about how to break the Covenant centered on the Aegises. When the last Aegis died, portals to other worlds would open, releasing demons, vampires, lycans and zombies to destroy all of humanity. Shadow Man had put all his efforts into this one a few months ago, going so far as to force those portals open to speed things up while getting his followers to kill all of the Aegises worldwide.

It almost worked except for two things. One, he still hadn’t managed to kill Mom and me, and two, the folks on the other side of those portals were more interested in keeping things as they were and hanging out for the occasional game night or movie marathon than taking over our world.

I thumbed through the empty book, hoping for some brilliant new idea to try.

Aggravated, I leaned over the blank pages. “Why won’t you cooperate? I’m an Aegis! Don’t I qualify?”

The creamy parchment sat unresponsive, mocking me with its lack of concern. I slammed the book shut and unfolded my legs.

Everything went black, feathers whooshing in my ears. Light shone from far away, and the dark outline of the enormous Simurgh stood before me.

“Patience,” she said. “The end is near.”

I pursed my lips. “More riddles? The end of what? The end of the world? The end of my troubles? How do I defeat the Last Hidden?”

“You cannot defeat what should not be.”

“I have to defeat him. He’s stealing our children, and he wants my mother and me dead so he can take the Hidden and start his own world.”

“The wise adult does not feed a child’s tantrum.”

I groaned in frustration. “Can you please tell me something I can use? Where is he hiding the children? How do I read the Covenant? How do I keep Shadow Man from watching me through my freaking bedroom window?”

The Simurgh’s wings shivered and fluffed themselves as she chuckled. “You must not skip ahead and do things out of order, as he has done. The Last Hidden is an impossibility. The time is not now. The time is for many tomorrows. Take back tomorrow, and today will follow.”

She was trying to kill me. I was convinced of it. Riddles and fake advice rattled in my head, building a fire of confusion that would likely make my head explode. “Take back tomorrow. That’s your advice, then?”

The great bird Simurgh, first of all Hidden, tilted her head in thought. “Yes,” she said. “That is my advice.”

“You know it’s not very helpful.”

“I am aware. But even I have to follow rules.”

That surprised me. I figured the First Hidden was beyond the reach of the regulatory bullshit we were stuck following. In fact, I’d thought she’d made up the rules.

“Fair enough, I guess. Is there anything else I should or can know?”

“Only that this must be our last conversation until the end. I cannot help you again.”

I didn’t point out that the help she’d provided so far had been useless. I appreciated that she’d tried and felt a twinge of guilt for having taken out some of my frustrations on her. I nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

“Thank
you
, Aegis.”

The whooshing of wings grew louder, then faded out, and I was in my room again, the useless book still in my hands.

The backward ancient Sumerian/reptoid-alien symbols had reformed into plain English. A single word, eight letters, had replaced the useless symbols.

Covenant

“Well,” I said to the air. “Thanks for straightening that out, at least.” I fanned the pages to check for any new markings. Nothing. I sighed. “It’s a start, I guess.”

I was still holding the book, considering whether it would be worth marring the pristine pages by smearing a little of my blood on one of them, when Mom poked her head into the room.

She eyed the book. “You busy?”

I sighed and set it down beside me. “Nope.” I picked up the new feather that had appeared after my chat with the Simurgh. “Got one of these, though. You?”

She waved one back at me. “Yup.”

“She was a lot chattier this time, but still every bit as mysterious.” I pulled open the drawer in my bedside table and grabbed the notebook where I kept a record of all the other useless Simurgh visions we’d had. While I told her what the giant bird had said to me, I wrote it down so I could study it later with the rest. “How about you?”

She looked at her feet for a moment, then brought her gaze back to my face. “She didn’t say as much to me. I guess I don’t ask as many questions.” She ran her index finger along the edge of the long, rainbow-colored feather. “Mostly, it was a rehash of the last conversation.”

“You mean the hope and tragedy bit?” I slid to the edge of the bed and slipped my shoes on.

“Yeah. That.” She leaned against the doorframe, watching me tie my rhinestone-covered sneakers. “Zoey.” Her voice was quiet and sounded far away. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how very proud I am of you.”

I glanced up and gave her a soft smile. “Thank you.”

She smiled back, but the expression seemed sad. “I missed seeing you grow up. I only got to follow along in the photos the Board sent me. I knew you were okay, but it wasn’t the same as being there to help you grow up. But you did it without me.” She moved beside me and touched my hair. “And you did an amazing job. You became the kind of woman I’d want to be friends with. The kind of woman I’d want to
be
.”

She rested her hand against my cheek, and I placed my hand over hers. Her love and pride spread over me like a warm fur, and a tear slid down my cheek. I’d spent most of my life without a mother, and the last year wishing my mother was more accepting of me. If I could have captured that moment—that feeling of unconditional love—and kept it with me forever, there would be nothing anyone could do to rattle my self-confidence for as long as I lived.

A knock at the door jolted us both out of the moment.

I frowned. “Everybody’s out searching. Who the hell is knocking?”

We headed for the living room and found Maurice standing with the door open, staring at someone about waist high.

“No. You’re not coming in.” Maurice’s tone was adamant, and his stance was firm. Whoever was at the door wasn’t getting any farther.

“Look, friend. I’m not some movie vampire who needs an invite. And I’m not interested in what you think. I’m here to see Zoey. So, step aside or I’ll just come in on my own.”

I recognized that voice, and it filled me with both joy and dread. “Silas?” I’d forgotten Sheila’s prediction. Things were about to get hairy.

The pooka craned his neck around the closet monster and grinned when he caught sight of me. “Zoey! Can you move this galoot out of my way? I heard you were having some trouble and came to offer assistance.”

Maurice let out a deep, melodramatic sigh and stepped out of the way. As he moved, his foot caught on the edge of the rug and he tripped sideways, arms flailing, knocking over a vase of flowers he’d set by the door.

Vase, closet monster and flowers all crashed to the floor.

Maurice shoved a finger in Silas’s direction while giving me the stink-eye. “You see? He hasn’t even come in yet and he’s causing problems.” He picked up the scattered daisies and shoved them into the empty vase, muttering to himself as he worked.

Mom and I exchanged a concerned look.

“Who’s Silas?” Mom asked. “I don’t see anyone.”

Without setting foot inside, all the problems inherent to the pooka’s species had managed to surface. First, pookas brought enormous bad luck to anyone in their vicinity. And second, only one person at a time could see them.

There were a few exceptions. Something about a closet monster’s eyes made it possible for Maurice to see him. Riley, having used his reaper ring to see Silas once, could also see him from then on. Andrew’s fennec fox, Milo, couldn’t see Silas, but he could hear him, so I had to assume it was that way with other animals as well, since, as much as I loved my little fox-face, he wasn’t magical.

Silas stepped inside, suitcase in hand. “Good to see you, dollface. Is this the long-lost mother?”

I smiled. “Welcome back, Silas.”

He tipped his hat to me, then popped out of existence. Beside me, Mom jumped.

“Well, hello,” she said. “You must be Silas.” She held her hand out and looked ridiculous shaking hands with no one. Silas had shifted to showing himself to Mom instead of me. “I see. Well, sure, okay. I’m sure she’ll put you in the guest room.”

“Oh, hell no,” Maurice said. He rose to his full height, water dripping from his sleeve and a vase full of broken-stemmed flowers in his hand. “I’ve cleaned up after this guy before. He’s staying out back this time.”

The first time Silas had shown up, Maurice had been out of town. The backyard hadn’t been set up for guests yet, either, so he’d taken the master bedroom.

Silas was a bit of a pig.

I snapped my fingers in the direction I thought he was probably standing. “Hey. Glad you’ve had a chance to chat with Mom, now put me back on.”

He popped into view directly in front of me. “Of course, doll. So, how about that room? You know I like to soak in the tub.”

“I’m afraid we’ve got a full house. But the tents outside are cozy.” He started to object, and I held my hand up to quiet him. “And before we even get started, house rules are still in effect. If you dirty it, clean it up. Maurice is not your slave. And even more important...” I leaned close and gave him my firmest stink-eye. “When you’re in my house? Always. Wear. Pants.”

Silas made a face like he was bored. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear you. Can’t believe you’re making me sleep in a tent this time.”

“Sorry. Everybody’s home this time. Sara sleeps in the room you were in, and Kam has the other guest room.” This wasn’t entirely true. Several nights a week, Sara and Maurice slipped through the closet in that room and went to her house.

Silas wiggled his eyebrows. “I remember that Sara dame. Think she might be willing to share?”

“Hey!” Maurice’s temper flared, and he grew a few feet, nearly bumping his head on the ceiling. “She’s already sharing. Don’t even think about it.”

Silas’s eyes widened in surprise, and he looked at me for confirmation. “Wait, that little sweet potato from your office is with this bozo?”

I smiled. “Dude, you have no idea how much has happened in the last year or so. Let’s get you settled first, then we’ll bring you up to speed.”

Silas followed me out back and, after darting in and out of several, chose the tent closest to the house. While I waited for him to choose, I glanced up at my roof and waved. Kam waved back and gave me a thumbs up.