The Dragon Heir (The Heir Chronicles #3)

The Dragon Heir (The Heir Chronicles #3) Page 33

“Maybe Maddie's back,” she said doubtfully. “But she said it wouldn't be until real late.” She stood and carefully circled around the trapdoor to the window on the far end. She peered out, then looked back at Jason. “It's a blond-haired man, all sparkly, like you.”

Jason didn't need to look to know it was Warren Barber. And he didn't need to think about it to know that a magical duel would be no contest at all, considering the shape he was in. He wished he had the Dragonheart. A machine gun. Something.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Grace was still watching through the window. “He's on the porch, pounding on the door. He looks like he's mad.”

Jason staggered to his feet and nearly fell. He gripped the wall for support, and wondered how he would manage the stairs. “Is there a back door? Can we get out of here without being seen from the house?”

Grace shook her head. “There's a ravine. It drops to Booker Creek behind here. The barn door faces the porch.” She squinted through the glass. “Mama's come out on the porch. She won't be happy to be woke up.” She watched a minute longer, then said, “They went in the house, him and Mama.”

Just let him look around and leave, Jason prayed. Just let Mama keep her mouth shut and not mention Madison. Can't I be lucky, for once?

“You two go on, get out of here,” Jason said to the kids. “Just run as far as you can out into the woods and stay there until someone comes to get you.”

“Is that man after you?” Grace asked. “Is he the one that hurt you?”

“Yes. Now, go on.” Jason slumped back down onto the mattress and put his head between his knees, trying hard not to barf the grilled cheese and soup. He was going nowhere. “I'll hide up here. It'll be easier if it's just me.”

Grace folded her arms and tapped her foot in a familiar, stubborn way. Just like Maddie. “He'll look in here for sure.”

“Will you go, already? If you stay here, you'll give me away,” Jason said.

“I promised Madison I'd take care of you,” Grace said. She looked out of the window again. “He's coming.”

Jason swore under his breath. Even if he made himself unnoticeable, there was convalescent crap all over the place. It was very obviously a sick room, just what Warren Barber'd would be looking for. Barber'd be expecting an unnoticeable charm after what had happened in the woods. Maybe he'd even brought glitter powder along to ferret Jason out.

Jason slid himself back into a corner, gripping the sefa. “Come here,” he said to Grace and J.R. “Squeeze in next to me. I can hide all of us with magic.” He tried to sound confident, but who even knew if it would work, sick as he was?

“Magic?” Grace rolled her eyes. “There's no such thing. I'm not stupid.” She looked from Jason to J.R., her brow furrowing in thought. “I know!” A smile broke, the first he'd seen on her. She turned to her brother. “J.R.! Get in that bed. Pretend you're asleep.”

With two older sisters, it seemed J.R. was used to taking orders. He slid obediently under the quilts. By now his eyes were swollen to slits and he was scratching himself vigorously.

“Hide,” Grace said to Jason.

Great. She thinks we're playing hide-and-seek. “Hand me that backpack,” he whispered. “Then keep still and maybe he won't come up.”

She handed him the backpack and sat down on the mattress next to J.R., waiting. Jason fumbled the zipper open and groped inside until he found the dagger he'd brought from Trinity, seemingly a century ago. Sliding the blade from its sheath, Jason gripped the knife in his good hand, crouched back in his corner, and murmured the unnoticeable charm. Maybe he'd be lucky, for once.

“Hey,” J.R. said in a stage whisper, peeking out from under the blanket. “Where'd he go?”

Grace clapped her hand over his mouth. “Hush!”

Hinges screeched as the barn door opened beneath them. He could hear Barber walking back and forth below, cursing violently, kicking stuff out of the way. Jason held his breath. Then he heard the stairs creak as they took Barber s weight.

No. He couldn't be lucky, not even once. He gathered his legs under him. Maybe the kids would distract Barber long enough to give him a chance. It was a magical dagger, after all. Maybe a scratch would do the trick.

Grace gestured frantically at Jason. “You have to hide better than that! He's going to see you.”

Jason's overtaxed brain struggled to make sense of it. He was unnoticeable, he was sure of it. Unless, in his debilitated state…

Barber's head and shoulders appeared through the opening in the floor. He was trying to look everywhere at once, obviously anticipating an attack.

“Hi,” Grace said promptly. “Are you Howie? I didn't think you were coming.”

Startled, Barber raised his hands to throw a charm, almost losing his balance and falling backward down the steps. Which would've been great. But he caught himself and said, “What the … who the hell is Howie?”

“The new sitter. He was supposed to come today. I told Mama I could baby-sit my brother all by myself.” She pointed at J.R. “He's sick. We're playing hospital. Want to play?”

“No, I don't want to play,” Barber growled. His clothes were dirty and torn, and he was scratched and scraped up, like he'd been searching through the woods for several days. “I'm going to have a look around.” He heaved himself to his feet. “You seen any strangers around here?”

“You mean, besides you?”

Jeez, Jason thought, don't antagonize him.

Barber glared at her for a minute, then kind of relaxed, as if he figured she was too young to be an actual smart-ass. “Yeah, besides me. I'm looking for a guy about my age, about my height, too, but thinner. Dark hair streaked blonde. He wears an earring.” Barber touched his earlobe, in case she couldn't figure it out.

“Why are you looking for him?” Grace asked.

“I think he might be hurt. That's why I'm looking for him. To help him.” Barber bared his teeth in his blood-curdling smile, pale eyes glittering with malice. He apparently took Grace Minerva for an idiot. He didn't seem to notice Jason in his corner.

“I haven't seen anybody. We haven't been allowed to go anywhere since my brother got sick, 'cause it's catching.” Grace pretended to spoon soup into the pretending-to-sleep John Robert. Her hand shook a little.

Barber stomped around the room, peering into the rafters, shoving aside farm equipment, and inspecting spaces too small for Jason to fit in. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pouch, and dumped something into his palm. Glitter powder.

Barber suddenly flung the powder into the wrong corner, and it floated down, shimmering in the shafts of sunlight. Revealing no one.

“Hey,” Grace said uncertainly, glancing at the corner Jason was hiding in. “What's that stuff?”

Barber ignored her, continuing to stalk around the room, flinging powder. Just a little closer, Jason thought, and I'll have you before you have me. Maybe.

Barber paused before one of the paintings, studying it, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. Uh-oh, Jason thought. It was the inn at Second Sister, silhouetted against the dying sun, perched on the rocks overlooking Lake Erie. Site of the ill-fated conference. Barber frowned, as if trying to remember where he'd seen it before. “Who's the painter?” he asked.

“Me. Be careful that glitter stuff doesn't get in the wet paint,” Grace said. “Now sit up, Johnny, so I can give you your medicine.”

John Robert obediently sat up, and Barber got a good look at his swollen eyes and red welts.

“What's wrong with him?” Barber demanded, taking three steps back.

“It's real catching,” Grace said, pretending to daub John Robert with a rag.

Barber looked horrified. “Why? What's he got?”

“Chicken pox.” Grace shrugged. “He was vaccinated and everything. I guess it itches like crazy. Mama says I'll probably get it, too.”

As if on cue, J.R. sneezed wetly.

Barber retreated hastily to the steps, then took one last narrow-eyed look around the studio. “You sure you haven't seen anyone?”

“Mama won't let anyone in, since we're contagious,” Grace said importantly. “I'm real surprised she let you in.”

Ha, Jason thought. He'd be glad to visit the chicken pox or any other plague on Barber after what he'd done to him. Maybe Leesha'd catch it from him.

Barber couldn't leave fast enough. Jason heard him descending the steps, banging out through the barn door, then his car starting up. Jason waited until the sound of the engine had died away before he slumped back against the wall, trying to gather enough strength to make it back to his makeshift bed.

“That was lucky he didn't see you,” Grace said, glaring at Jason. “Why didn't you hide?”

“Well, I …”

“Who are you talking to, Grace?” John Robert erupted out of the quilt. “Where did that man go?”

Jason looked from Grace to John Robert, back to Grace. He disabled the unnoticeable charm. John Robert flinched back, but Grace didn't react.

Ah, Jason thought. Elicitors may be rare, but they come in bunches.

Chapter Sixteen Arrivals and Departures

After the trauma of lunchtime, Jason slept most of the afternoon. He half awoke twice to the sound of car engines— Madison's mother leaving for work, and Madison arriving back home. He woke up a third time when she switched on the light.

“Hey,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “How're you doing?”

“I've been better,” he said. He managed to sit up. One of the yellow dogs was sprawled across his feet. His chest wound had been seeping and his T-shirt was stuck to it. He pulled it away from his body, gritting his teeth at the pain. “You?”

“I'm good,” she said, fussing with the bedclothes, smoothing them down. She wore faded blue jeans and an embroidered white cotton shirt and multiple necklaces looped around her neck. Her hair was pulled back into a loose braid, exposing long, dangly earrings.