Carry On Wayward Son(13)
“Why did he pick me?”
Claire held out her hand. The girl took it, kneeling in front of her. Fear and awe swirled around her, their potency leaving Claire lightheaded. “Do you pray?”
“Of course.” She glanced at her mother. “Almost every night. Sometimes I forget.”
“I bet he heard your prayers, and thought you could help each other.” Claire sandwiched her hand. “I don’t believe he meant to scare you. He is in pain, Hillary. Not the physical kind, but pain of the spirit. Do you understand?”
“I think so. Like when your heart hurts.” Regina let out a strangled sound. “It’s not your fault, Mom. Dad made my heart hurt, not you.”
“Oh, honey.” Regina gathered her daughter into her arms, tears filming the dark eyes. “I am so sorry.” Rocking Hillary, she looked at Claire. “What do we do now? He won’t let us go until he gets what he wants—and from what I understand, what he wants is impossible.”
With an effort, Claire uncurled her fingers. Strands of golden brown hair glinted in her palm.
“I have an idea.”
FIVE
Annie helped Claire climb the stairs, more than a little scared by Claire’s shock white face, the way her hands shook. Something happened when that ethereal bastard touched her; Annie could sense it, and the sparks shooting over the sapphire in her engagement ring danced in agreement.
They followed Regina to one of the small bedrooms at the back of the house. Once she lowered Claire to the double bed she checked the window. The latch lock on the sash window was frozen, and confirmed her suspicion. He had turned the house into a prison.
“Annie.” She turned back to Claire, relieved to see some color returning to her face. “Can you manage a protection circle? I don’t want Zach touching them again—”
“Is that the bastard’s name?”
“Annie.”
Her gaze skated over to the girl. “Sorry. My mouth doesn’t have a censor.” Hillary giggled, making Annie smile. It sounded normal—the first normal, little girl sound she’d made since they met her.
“Did you want to help me make a special circle? If it’s okay with your mom.” Regina nodded, obviously realizing Annie’s intent—a distraction for Hillary. “We’ll need some salt, and I have a giant economy size container of it in my duffle. Do you remember the one we brought with us?” Hillary nodded. “Why don’t you and your mom bring that duffle upstairs? It has everything we need to make the best protection circle you’ll ever see.”
Regina helped her daughter up, nodded to Annie as they left.
“Well done,” Claire said. She was sitting up straighter, no longer clutching the bed for support. “Now, we’re going to need some things I know I don’t have in my duffle. And I am going to need your power—I’ll tell you later.” She pointed to one ear, and Annie wanted to slap herself. Of course he’d be listening. “Now, can you do me a favor? My back is killing me. I just want to make certain it’s because of bruising, and nothing worse.”
“Of course.” Kneeling on the bed behind her, Annie helped Claire take her jacket off, noticing how stiffly she moved. The black shirt she wore underneath would hide any blood. Gently, she lifted the hem of the shirt, relieved that there was no blood, and horrified by the really appalling bruises marking her back. No wonder she hurt. “Just bruising. Incredibly nasty bruising, but he didn’t break the skin.”
“Thank you.” Claire flinched as she eased the shirt down, wiped at the sweat trickling down her cheek. “Hillary—thank you for bringing the duffle bag up. I don’t know if I would have been able to manage it.”
“He hurt you.”
“He was defending himself. Sometimes that means hurting someone else, if they feel they are in danger. Do you understand?”
Hillary studied her face, nodding. “He’s scared.”
“Exactly. And we are going to do everything we can to keep him from being scared. To try and help him find what he needs. Which means we will need a few things—one of them from you, sweetheart. It will be a sacrifice, if you agree.”
“What?” She sounded wary. Annie didn’t blame her.
“I need a doll. A cloth doll, if you have one.”
“Will I get her back?”
Claire touched her wrist. “I can’t promise, but I will do my best to get her back to you.”
Hillary studied Claire, those big brown eyes sober. Without warning she jumped up and ran out of the bedroom.
“Hil—”
“Wait, Regina. Keep her in sight, but let her do this on her own.” The woman nodded, darted out of the room. “They’re holding up better than I expected. Especially Hillary.”