AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He doesn’t need to answer—I can hear a car now coming up the drive. It passes by Big House. It stops next to the Ford near the porch, the sun reflecting red and blue off the lights on the top. Sheriff Griggs opens the car door. Cal stands quickly, tipping over his chair.
“Shit,” I groan. “What the hell is this, now?”
“George Griggs,” Calliel spits out through gritted teeth. “Fifty years of age. Bastard. Born May 4, 1961 under an emerald moon at 7:45 at night. I must not be blasphemous. Parents are Brian and Jennifer Griggs. I must not decide the definition of sin. Grandparents are Gerald and Molly Jackson
. I am a guardian. I am a servant. I am not the judge. I am not the jury. I am not the executioner. I do not decide fate.” He’s snarling by the end.
And little blue flashes are starting to appear around him, growing in brightness, here on a spring afternoon in Little House.
Sheriff Griggs pulls himself out of the car, looking back toward the main house.
I stumble over to Cal, nearly tripping on his overturned chair. I stand in front of him, pulling the curtains shut over the kitchen window while the sheriff’s back is turned. I reach up and cup Cal’s face in my hands, like Nina had done. His red stubble is rough against my palms. His lips are still moving, saying something that I can’t quite understand. I can’t even be sure it’s in English. I pull on his face until he looks at me, and I almost reel away. There is fire in his eyes, but it is so much more. It’s as if he is burning from the inside out, his body ready to explode. The blue flashing lights get brighter and begin to take their shape behind him, a shape now becoming familiar. If I don’t stop this now, it’ll only get worse from here. The sheriff will be able to see the heavenly explosion occurring in my kitchen and I won’t have words to persuade him otherwise.
“Do you see me?” I ask Calliel, not knowing how much time we have. He growls at me, the outline of wings taking shape.
“Do you see me!”
“I see you,” he snarls into my face.
“Then you need to calm down. You need to stop this.” I drop my voice lower as I continue, hearing the sheriff’s boots crunching in the gravel as he walks toward Little House. “If he sees you like this, we won’t be able to explain it away. Do you understand me? He’ll try to take you away. You’ve got to calm down.”
“He can try,” Cal snaps. “I can make it so he goes away. I could do it if I really wanted to. Send him to the black. Send him in deep.”
“You are not judgment,” I whisper harshly, throwing his words back at him. “You are not jury. And you are not the executioner. You are the protector.” I breathe a sigh of relief as the blue lights begin to fade, as the fire begins to die in his eyes.
“I am the protector,” he says to me. He reaches up with one big hand and places it over mine still holding his face. “Benji, I am the protector.”
“You are. But you need to let me handle this, okay? I need you to trust me. Can you do that? For me?”
He nods as the blue lights disappear. There’s a knock at the door.
“Stay here,” I tell him as he looks at me like that is the stupidest idea he’s ever heard. I’m not surprised to hear him follow me as I walk to the front door. He pauses in the entryway to the kitchen and I almost snort with laughter as he puffs himself up, trying to look as big as possible. He scowls at me.
I open the door, blocking Cal from view, leaving the screen door between us. “Sheriff,” I say, keeping my voice light. “Two times in two days. Beginning to think you’re stalking me.”
“Benji,” he drawls. “Stopped by the store to speak with you. Was surprised when Christie told me you had the day off. Good for you. Late night last night?”
“No later than usual,” I say evenly.
“How about you open the screen so we can talk?”
“Aren’t we talking fine the way it is?”
“Benji,” Sheriff Griggs says, shaking his head as if he’s disappointed. “There’s no need to have an attitude. You know I’m an old friend of the family. I’ve known you since you were born. Hell, I knew Big Eddie since we were both four years old. Thick as thieves, we were.”
“Funny, that,” I say, my voice hardening. “Especially since my father’s not here to say otherwise. I guess I’ll just have to take your word on it, huh?”
He changes tact suddenly. “What were you doing out near seventy-seven last night, Benji?”
He’s trying to catch me off guard. “I never said I was out there.”
He narrows his eyes. “Mayor Walken swears he saw your truck hightailing back toward town on the old highway.”
Dammit. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy to have gotten back unseen. “Does he? And what was our illustrious mayor doing out there so late?”
“Surely you’ve heard by now,” he scoffs. “Lord knows this town is full of busybodies who have nothing better to do than talk.”
“Slept in this morning, Sheriff. First day off in long time, remember? I just got up. No one has told me anything.”
