Time to move. She could have a pity party later, once they were all safe. With ice cream.
Wiping her damp palms on her trousers, she moved down the hall, motioned for them to all keep quiet as she entered the bedroom. Holding out her hand, she waited for Regina and Hillary to join her at the bed.
“Simon is here.” She kept her voice low. “We have a plan to get you out. But you have to be fast, and do exactly as I say. All of you,” she looked straight at Annie. “Simon is risking his life to create a distraction for us.”
Anger flashed in Annie’s brown eyes. “Who hit you, Claire?”
“It doesn’t matter. We need to go.”
“What about Zach?” She took Hillary’s hand, hearing the fear, the remorse in the girl’s voice.
“I’m going to help him. This wasn’t your fault, honey. You just happened to be the one he was sent to, that’s all. I’m thinking it was destined—because of you, he met me, and I can give him what he’s asking for. Now stay close to your mom. We have to move quietly, so I can hear what may be happening in front of us.”
She looked at Regina, who nodded, holding on to Hillary’s hand. Ready for a battle, Claire turned back to the bed.
“Okay, Annie, let’s—”
“You’re leaving me here.”
“Not on a bet.”
“You’ll move faster without me.”
“Yes, we will.” Leaning in, she framed Annie’s face with her hands. “And in spite of that, I’m not leaving you behind.” She managed to get enough of a smile from that to be encouraged. “I can’t predict what Zach will do next, and I won’t leave you to face him on your own. So let’s get you up, and get ourselves out of here.”
*
Simon inched up the stairs, hugging the wall to lessen the inevitable squeaking from the old floorboards.
He used the slow climb to run the banishing through his mind, so it would pop out fast and ready when he needed it. Not telling Claire he still planned to use it had guilt scratching at him, but they couldn’t afford the time for the argument he was damn sure she’d lay on him.
He shrugged off the nagging sense that this Zach was more. Angels and guardians were for bedtime stories, and blasphemous or not, he always considered them a symbol rather than fact. Now he was about to find out the truth.
Pausing at the top, with the wall still hiding him, he listened for any sound, any movement. And heard nothing—which scared the hell out of him. He should have heard the walls settling, the wind outside pushing against the house. Something, damn it, instead of this bubble of unnatural silence.
Swallowing, he took a fast look around the corner, saw nothing. With a final check of his shotgun, he made his way into the hall, and toward the first door.
*
Once Claire got Annie upright, accompanied by a soundtrack of low-pitched cursing, she led them to the door and stopped, listening for anything. She didn’t feel Zach nearby, and Annie’s sapphire stayed quiet.
Leaning in, Claire whispered to Regina. “Can you watch Annie for me?”
“I don’t need—”
Claire held up her hand. “You move and fall, you make a noise. You try to keep from falling, you make a noise. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
Annie bit her lip. “You really have been around me too long, Miss Sarcasm. I’ll stay put—but I hear anything resembling a struggle, I’m moving.”
“I never expected anything less.”
With a smile she started down the hall. It faded as she turned away from them, putting out every feeler she had. There was Simon, strong and edgy, just at the top of the stairs. And the three behind her. But she didn’t find Zach. She couldn’t feel any of his power, or even the echo of his presence.
He can’t be gone—he is as trapped as we are—
Moving across the living room, she headed for the last place she saw him—and froze when she heard a voice. Simon’s voice.
Floating down the stairs, it carried words in a language she had been created knowing. And the words caught her, wrapped her in dread.
“I invoke the power and authority of God.”
“No—heaven above, Simon, no—”
She hit the stairs running.
*
“I invoke the power and authority of God. This angel in your service—”
“You think that will work on such as me, mortal?” The voice caressed the back of Simon’s neck. He froze, needing to know exactly where his target stood before he could bring up the shotgun. “My brothers laugh at me, wonder why I want so badly to be one of you. This is the reason—to think for myself, act on a hunch, be an individual. No matter the consequences.”