Page 17 of Dark Stars
A stack of paperbacks shoved all the way towhere the shelf was cut off by part of the wall—shoddy workmanshipat its best—caught his eye. The priest had gay romance in hisoffice, and the English teacher had a stack of reverse harem. Sucha flagrant disregard for 'there's a time and place' was a small,easily overlooked sign of the corrupting effect of his relatives.Not corrupting them to be 'naughty' but to not care aboutboundaries—rather, toforgetabout them. Much like no onenoticed the warnings signs of things like Alzheimer's until toolate, much was the same for the slow breaking of the cultists'minds.
Today, it was bringing erotica to school toread at lunch. Eventually it would be kidnapping children to haveas a snack, when all other food ceased to be as appealing.
He explored the classroom some more, butfound little else, only that the primordial residue seemed to havevisited, so it didn't belong to Wilcutt. She must have been athreat, then.
Returning to the closet, Bobby slithered outhis long tongue to get a taste of the blood. Not very good, but hewould recognize it easily if he came across it again, no matterwhat state—or form—it was in.
With nothing left to investigate, he closedand locked the classroom door and headed back toward the stairs—andstopped.
Something was there. The faintest hint ofprimordial essence. A trail so weak it was no wonder he'd missed itthe first time. Whisper soft. A hint. Something a mere child mightleave behind.
Or a newly inducted acolyte.
Humans were so charming and sweet and fun.They were also breathtakingly stupid. Unlocking the door to thisnew classroom, he stepped inside. The nameplate had said PeterJohnson, about as generic a name as you could get. By the look ofthe room and its contents, Mr. Johnson was a math teacher.
The barely there scent trail grew a teensybit stronger by the desk, and then stronger still by one of thedrawers. Unlocking that took no effort at all, and there it was.Black cloth, faintly iridescent, to most beings it was slimy andcold to the touch, and left them feeling vaguely ill andunsettled.
Wrapped within that protective, mutingbarrier of null skin would be a relic, or piece of one, that wouldgive him an idea of which relative he was up against. Taking theobject out of the desk, the null skin tingling pleasantly againsthis fingers, he unwrapped it gingerly.
A chunk of stone, the distinct look ofhaving been carved at some point, the straight edges on one sidetoo perfect to be anything else. He would bet every book he ownedthat it was the corner of a pedestal, that there were at leastthree more pieces similar to this that would form the base of astatue. That the statue had been purposely broken apart centuriesor millennia ago, either to save people or keep the people who'downed it safe. Always so hard to tell.
Why give such a valuable item to a brand newacolyte? Maybe he was giving the holder too much credit. They couldsimply be a mule or something.
The stone was similar to that which hismother had given him, save that it was mottled blue and purpleinstead of green and black flecked with gold. As he'd hoped, thatdid narrow things down slightly. Three strong possibilities,including a grandparent.
Wrapping the item back up, he restored it toits place and left the classroom, heading quickly back downstairsto the office.
Where he found Alejo, but a not very healthylooking Alejo. No, this one looked like he'd come down with asudden and vicious case of the flu. "What's wrong?"
"I'm fine," Alejo said, in the world's mostunconvincing lie. "What did you find?"
"A broken chunk of a statue, somethingthat'd be no more than a foot tall, and probably not more thaneight inches. That was in the classroom of a math teacher, though.Peter Johnson. In Wilcutt's room, I found where she was probablymurdered. They hadn't cleaned up the blood or anything, which isweird. What about you?"
"Not much. I think the principal isdefinitely high up the food chain in this mess. Would explain whatyou found, why they don't care about clean-up. I bet they use theauditorium or cafeteria for some of their meetings. Nice andinnocuous. I jotted down some other things, took pictures on myphone. Go make sure the HR office is set to rights, and I'll takecare of Principal Thackery's office."
Bobby snapped to attention and gave asalute. "Yes, Captain Young One."
"Fuck you," Alejo muttered, but he wasgrinning slightly as he vanished into Thackery's office.
Humor fading beneath worry once he was outof sight, Bobby hastened to make certain it looked as though no onehad been in the HR office. Despite his haste, when he returned afew minutes later to the main area, he was too late.
Alejo had finished before him, but rightoutside the closed door of Thackery's office, he lay in an awkwardheap, as if he'd collapsed midstep.
"Damn it!" Bobby said, bolting across theroom and dropping down beside him. What had gone wrong in just amatter of, what, twenty minutes or so? He hadn't been gone thatlong! And he'd been in the office less than five.
He gently pulled Alejo into his lap, notremotely surprised he was hot and clammy. The back of his neck wasso hot it nearly burned. Something was wrong with whatever bindinghis parents had put on him, that was clear.
"Alejo, you ridiculous boy, you have to tellme what's wrong."
"Don't let him get me," Alejo replied, eyesclosed, the words barely discernable they were mumbled so low.Tears slid down his cheeks, tugging at something in Bobby's chest.Normally helikedwhen humans cried. Anguish and fear andpain were such sweet tastes.
Not this one, though. He didn't like Alejo'stears at all.
Pulling Alejo more securely into his arms,Bobby heaved to his feet. Get somewhere safe, and then—
Slamming car doors. Voices. Footsteps. Shit,people were coming. A woman and two men. Something primordial clungto them, faint but true. Which meant, unlike the lackies in thesecret cave, they might sense him if he used his powers to hidethem from sight. If he was going to take that risk, he'd ratherjust use his powers to get them the hell out of there—but thatwould tip his hand to whichever relative was behind this cult.
So he either hid the old-fashioned way andhoped for the best, or used his powers to get them to safety andgave away his presence. What fun choices.
