Banishing the Dark
Page 51
He paused at the edge of the dais and pointed a scarred, bony finger at me. “You, wicked child, are not anything like Sophia.”
He knew. Of course he did. He knew the minute he set eyes on my halo. And although Mr. Rooke had been wrong when he told me in the gardens that Payne was a friend of my mother’s—Payne might have hated my mother as much as I did—he wasn’t wrong to warn us that we were treading dark waters in seeking his temple.
Payne was a threat. And we were in grave danger. Every cell in my body screamed this, even before Lon’s gun rose in the air to aim at the snake handler.
But I was closer to uncovering my mother’s secrets than I’d ever been. And a strange sort of fog was descending inside my sleep-deprived head, like the calm rhythm of a silent lullaby.
“What am I?” I demanded, swaying on my feet.
Lamplight chased shadows over his gaunt figure. “You are an abomination.”
Lon’s gun clattered to the tile floor. I spun around to see him collapse. He didn’t make a noise when his body dropped.
Was he unconscious? Dead? I couldn’t see any blood, and I heard no gunshot. Was he drugged? I felt drugged. But we hadn’t eaten anything.
I fell to my knees at Lon’s side. And as I reached for him, I slipped into darkness.
We’d underestimated the potential peril of Payne’s knack.
In complete darkness, I smelled the snake skins drying in the rafters. That’s how I knew where I was when I woke. The temple was as black as coal, except for a soft rectangle of light falling over my shoulder. I groaned and pushed myself up to sit, wincing at soreness in my cheek and jaw. I must have landed on my face when I fell.
Right after Lon fell.
“Lon?” I patted the floor around me, searching for him as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. But he wasn’t there. Panic flooded my veins. “Lon!”
No response. Where was he?
And where was Payne?
The blackness slowly gained texture, and I could make out gray shapes in the dark: the edge of the dais, the clay statue of the serpent with Adam and Eve, the fire pit to my side.
I was alone.
Swinging around to search the shadows, I glanced up to find the source of the light. It was the stained-glass window I’d noticed earlier. I could see the image now. It was a beautiful woman with flaxen hair standing in front of an apple tree. Sophia. She was nude, and her body was covered with golden snake scales.
Like my body.
My other body.
Only mine was black and silver.
“Lon!” I shouted in desperation, pushing myself off the floor. What had Payne done with him? I stumbled around in the dark, looking for a door or a closet or a secret entrance into the cliffs, any place I’d missed before. But there was nothing, not even up on the balcony. I shuffled to the entry and tried the door, but I supposed I’d already known I was locked inside.
Do not panic. Do not. Just think. How long had I been out? Was it still storming outside? I listened for howling wind but heard nothing. Phone. Okay, good, yes. I’d check my phone. I usually kept in in the right pocket of my jeans, but those were getting tighter by the day, so I’d moved it into my jacket . . .
Not there. Not in any pocket.
Gone.
The bastard had taken my phone and locked me in this godforsaken temple. Maybe my mother hadn’t been so wrong in hexing him; when I got a hold on his scrawny snake-eating neck, I might just burn him from the inside out, too. But I had to get out of here first. And if the door was locked, I’d get out the hard way.
I carried an old wooden chair across the tile and dragged it up the ladder, hefting it onto the balcony with a grunt before I followed. A few snake skins fluttered to the floor below. The balcony boards were worn and creaky. I had just enough room to walk and did my best to watch my step as I hugged the wall and headed to the stained-glass window of Sophia. I counted out loud and hoisted the chair in the air.
“One, two . . .”
The first swing only cracked the colored glass. The second busted out Sophia’s legs. By the fifth or six—I lost count and just started pounding at it—half the glass was gone. So was half the chair. I used the back of it to knock out a few more pieces before I tossed it out through the hole I’d made. Then I looked outside.
Not stormy anymore. It was night. I’d been locked up here since . . . early afternoon?
A few pieces of broken glass tinkled to the ground below. The utility cart that had been parked here earlier was gone, its tires having left trails in the damp sand. God, it was farther down than I’d thought. And jumping into broken glass wasn’t my idea of good smarts. But I forgot all about that when a distant shout ripped through the dark desert landscape.
Lon!
No more waffling. I kicked away glass with my shoe and leaped out the window. Glass smashed under my feet as I hit the ground. The impact reverberated through my calves. I lost my balance and had to throw my arms out to stop myself from face-planting. Broken glass bit into my palms. I cried out and surged to my feet, wiping my bloodied hands on my jeans.
Lights twinkled from the bungalows across the canyon. There. That was the direction of Lon’s shout. Wasn’t it? Sound did funny things in the canyon. But it was where the tire tracks led, so I took off toward the main house. Chilly night air whipped my hair behind me as I raced over the rocky land, moonlight aiding my steps. The compound seemed twice as far as when we’d walked out to the temple. Adrenaline and anger pushed me to quicken my pace.
I sprinted until I thought my lungs would burst. And when I was a few yards away, I slowed to a jog so I could better hear my environment. Where did Payne have Lon? Inside the main house? Lights shone through the breezeway out back. More lights in the carport on the far side. And inside the enclosed pool. And in one of the bungalows. Too many lights, and I couldn’t hear anything but the blood pounding in my temples.
He knew. Of course he did. He knew the minute he set eyes on my halo. And although Mr. Rooke had been wrong when he told me in the gardens that Payne was a friend of my mother’s—Payne might have hated my mother as much as I did—he wasn’t wrong to warn us that we were treading dark waters in seeking his temple.
Payne was a threat. And we were in grave danger. Every cell in my body screamed this, even before Lon’s gun rose in the air to aim at the snake handler.
But I was closer to uncovering my mother’s secrets than I’d ever been. And a strange sort of fog was descending inside my sleep-deprived head, like the calm rhythm of a silent lullaby.
“What am I?” I demanded, swaying on my feet.
Lamplight chased shadows over his gaunt figure. “You are an abomination.”
Lon’s gun clattered to the tile floor. I spun around to see him collapse. He didn’t make a noise when his body dropped.
Was he unconscious? Dead? I couldn’t see any blood, and I heard no gunshot. Was he drugged? I felt drugged. But we hadn’t eaten anything.
I fell to my knees at Lon’s side. And as I reached for him, I slipped into darkness.
We’d underestimated the potential peril of Payne’s knack.
In complete darkness, I smelled the snake skins drying in the rafters. That’s how I knew where I was when I woke. The temple was as black as coal, except for a soft rectangle of light falling over my shoulder. I groaned and pushed myself up to sit, wincing at soreness in my cheek and jaw. I must have landed on my face when I fell.
Right after Lon fell.
“Lon?” I patted the floor around me, searching for him as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. But he wasn’t there. Panic flooded my veins. “Lon!”
No response. Where was he?
And where was Payne?
The blackness slowly gained texture, and I could make out gray shapes in the dark: the edge of the dais, the clay statue of the serpent with Adam and Eve, the fire pit to my side.
I was alone.
Swinging around to search the shadows, I glanced up to find the source of the light. It was the stained-glass window I’d noticed earlier. I could see the image now. It was a beautiful woman with flaxen hair standing in front of an apple tree. Sophia. She was nude, and her body was covered with golden snake scales.
Like my body.
My other body.
Only mine was black and silver.
“Lon!” I shouted in desperation, pushing myself off the floor. What had Payne done with him? I stumbled around in the dark, looking for a door or a closet or a secret entrance into the cliffs, any place I’d missed before. But there was nothing, not even up on the balcony. I shuffled to the entry and tried the door, but I supposed I’d already known I was locked inside.
Do not panic. Do not. Just think. How long had I been out? Was it still storming outside? I listened for howling wind but heard nothing. Phone. Okay, good, yes. I’d check my phone. I usually kept in in the right pocket of my jeans, but those were getting tighter by the day, so I’d moved it into my jacket . . .
Not there. Not in any pocket.
Gone.
The bastard had taken my phone and locked me in this godforsaken temple. Maybe my mother hadn’t been so wrong in hexing him; when I got a hold on his scrawny snake-eating neck, I might just burn him from the inside out, too. But I had to get out of here first. And if the door was locked, I’d get out the hard way.
I carried an old wooden chair across the tile and dragged it up the ladder, hefting it onto the balcony with a grunt before I followed. A few snake skins fluttered to the floor below. The balcony boards were worn and creaky. I had just enough room to walk and did my best to watch my step as I hugged the wall and headed to the stained-glass window of Sophia. I counted out loud and hoisted the chair in the air.
“One, two . . .”
The first swing only cracked the colored glass. The second busted out Sophia’s legs. By the fifth or six—I lost count and just started pounding at it—half the glass was gone. So was half the chair. I used the back of it to knock out a few more pieces before I tossed it out through the hole I’d made. Then I looked outside.
Not stormy anymore. It was night. I’d been locked up here since . . . early afternoon?
A few pieces of broken glass tinkled to the ground below. The utility cart that had been parked here earlier was gone, its tires having left trails in the damp sand. God, it was farther down than I’d thought. And jumping into broken glass wasn’t my idea of good smarts. But I forgot all about that when a distant shout ripped through the dark desert landscape.
Lon!
No more waffling. I kicked away glass with my shoe and leaped out the window. Glass smashed under my feet as I hit the ground. The impact reverberated through my calves. I lost my balance and had to throw my arms out to stop myself from face-planting. Broken glass bit into my palms. I cried out and surged to my feet, wiping my bloodied hands on my jeans.
Lights twinkled from the bungalows across the canyon. There. That was the direction of Lon’s shout. Wasn’t it? Sound did funny things in the canyon. But it was where the tire tracks led, so I took off toward the main house. Chilly night air whipped my hair behind me as I raced over the rocky land, moonlight aiding my steps. The compound seemed twice as far as when we’d walked out to the temple. Adrenaline and anger pushed me to quicken my pace.
I sprinted until I thought my lungs would burst. And when I was a few yards away, I slowed to a jog so I could better hear my environment. Where did Payne have Lon? Inside the main house? Lights shone through the breezeway out back. More lights in the carport on the far side. And inside the enclosed pool. And in one of the bungalows. Too many lights, and I couldn’t hear anything but the blood pounding in my temples.
