Read Valor (A Greystone Novel) Page 21


  Chapter Twenty

  For the first weekend in at least a month, the menacing snarl of a chainsaw didn't echo through the forest on Saturday morning. 'Course that didn't mean I was a witch. It was going to take several days of no-tree-cutting before I'd even begin to consider the idea that I had somehow changed my neighbor's mind.

  But at that point, the creepy next-door tree-slayer didn't seem like our biggest concern because we were all so worried about the missing gargoyles. Even the threat of a harpy attack didn't seem to be our most immediate problem. That's not to say we got sloppy and careless. We didn't. We still kept the curtains drawn and the guys remained vigilant, Valor taking the day watch after a week on the night watch. But he was ready to consider the idea that the missing harpy might have been a dead artifact all along.

  And when it was time to crate up the gargoyles on Sunday morning, the guys went into their boxes a lot more willingly than they had ten days earlier. 'Course it helped that I let them wear their jeans since I didn't expect my mother to fully open the crates again. Valor was actually smiling as he helped me install the bottom panel on his crate. "No chainsaw again, today," he pointed out.

  I nodded. Yesterday had passed without the sound of the chainsaw roaring to life. That meant a whole wonderful day without the shriek of tearing wood and crashing limbs. But it was only two days of silence and I wasn't convinced my spell had caused the change.

  "Will you come out and tell us if you hear any news?" Valor asked as he stood in his tall packing crate.

  "Of course," I answered. I knew he was talking about Reason and the rest of the missing gargoyles.

  Valor leaned down and touched his lips to the corner of my mouth. "See you soon," he said softly.

  I was smiling as I attached the top panel to his crate, my heart expanding at the tiny, half-kiss offering. There was no doubt I had it bad for the dark-haired, blue-eyed gargoyle. Unfortunately, my happiness was interrupted by Hooligan's low growl. A few weeks earlier, I probably would have ignored anything Hooligan had to say. By now, I knew enough to take his opinion seriously. A chill wrapped my spine as I looked around the garage and out onto the driveway, half afraid my neighbor was somewhere nearby. "What is it, Hooli?"

  My wolfhound lifted his head and barked at the rafters.

  I thought maybe a squirrel had gotten into the garage and was looking for a cozy place to spend the winter. That was a reassuring idea but it didn't last long. Hooli's growl deepened and I heard a scraping sound overhead, like a large raven walking on the roof. Alarmed, I turned toward the open garage doors just in time to see a long, dark shadow move across the driveway. I moved quickly across the garage, but when I stepped to the edge of the concrete slab and searched the skies I couldn't see anything.

  Creeped out, I decided to move my car when my mom got home. I closed the garage doors and headed back into the house with Hooligan. When I was safely inside, I peeked through the drapes in the living room at the driveway in front of the house. But everything looked normal. The sun spilled down on the evergreen forest and the wind rustled comfortably through the pine needles while the trees waltzed in place.

  At least the forest seemed at peace.

  I gathered up the guys' notebooks and climbed the stairs to make my bed. When I stepped into my bedroom, I glanced at my curtains and made sure they were still drawn. Again, nothing looked unusual.

  "What are you worried about?" I asked Hooligan, who had followed me into the room and sat alertly at the end of my bed.

  But Hooligan wouldn't be distracted. He maintained his watchful stance.

  "You look like one of those guards at Buckingham Palace," I informed him as I hid the notebooks and readers in the back of my closet. "All you need is a red coat and a tall hat."

  And while Hooli stood guard, I made my bed. As I fluffed up my pillow, a piece of wide-ruled notepaper floated to the floor. Puzzled, I picked it up and turned it over. Written in neat, square handwriting was one sentence saying, "I love you Mackenzie".

  The note was signed by Valor.

  I sank down onto the edge of my mattress and stared at Valor's note. I felt like laughing. And crying. I felt like running down to the garage and breaking Valor's crate open to give him a big hug, even if he was solid stone and couldn't hug me back. But I didn't want to be too over-the-top and scare him off. Not after waiting so long for him to admit he liked me.

  But I couldn't wait until it was time to let him out of his packing box again. Grinning like an idiot, I opened the top drawer on my dressing table and placed the note carefully beneath my T-shirts.

  Mom would be traveling back to California on Thursday, which was Thanksgiving Day. It was kind of sad that she had to work, especially since just about everyone in the country has a four-day weekend to celebrate the holiday. But my mother was testing the foundations on a new bridge that was being built to replace one that had fallen down during a recent earthquake. The construction project was on a tight schedule.

  She'd invited some of her friends over on Wednesday to help us celebrate an early Thanksgiving. So we spent most of her break cleaning house to get ready for their visit.

  When I saw all the food spread out on the dining room table, I couldn't help but think how much the gargoyles would have enjoyed the feast. Havoc would have raved over the huge, roasted dead bird.

  I saved a drumstick for him.

  "I haven't heard the chainsaw lately," my mother commented as we cleaned up after dinner. "In fact, I haven't heard it the entire time I've been here."

  "I meant to tell you," I said. "The neighbor stopped cutting trees a few days before you came home."

  "Do you think maybe he's done?" she asked.

  "I hope so," I answered as we stacked the dishwasher together.

  And when the dishwasher was running, Mom headed for the living room and turned the TV to the weather station. The temperature had dropped about ten degrees while we were eating dinner and we'd noticed the change when we'd gone outside to see her friends off. "They're forecasting snow in the morning," she called out to me in the kitchen where I was wiping down the counters.

  I wasn't surprised. The snow was long overdue. We didn't normally get a lot of the white stuff before Christmas but we always got some. "How much?"

  "Only a couple of inches," she replied. "It shouldn't affect the roads or traffic."

  "Well, be sure to wake me up before you leave tomorrow morning so I can say goodbye." I usually saw my mother off anyway but I wanted to be up before sunrise tomorrow to open Valor's crate. I'd decided I was gonna kiss him while he was in his stone form. That way he couldn't stop me.

  I was also keen to tell the pack about the shadow I'd seen on the driveway and Hooligan's reaction to the sounds on the roof in case they thought it might be important.

  "Have you talked to your father, lately?" Mom asked as I filled Hooligan's bowl in the mudroom.

  "I'm having dinner with him on Sunday," I yelled back.

  "He didn't ask you over for Thanksgiving Day?"

  I washed my hands and joined my mother in the living room. "He's having dinner with Natalie's parents tomorrow so we're getting together on the weekend."

  "Say hi to everyone," she told me.

  I promised I would. Natalie's kids are really cute and I was looking forward to chasing them around the house. I thought I might even take Valor with me to help with the chasing.

  "What are you doing tomorrow?"

  "I'm making dinner for some friends," I answered, which was a slight exaggeration since Havoc would probably do most of the cooking.

  "Are Mim and Whitney coming over?"

  "No," I answered. "They have to spend the day with their families."

  Right away, her romance sensors went into overdrive. "Are you making dinner for that eighteen-year-old bow maker you met?"

  I nodded. "Along with his brothers and a few of his cousins."

  "So you guys are…still together?"

  I just nodded casually like it was no
big deal for me to have a boyfriend.

  "When do I get to meet this guy?" she asked slyly.

  I wasn't ready for her question and had to do some quick thinking to explain why she couldn't meet Valor. "I don't want to scare him away by asking him to meet my parents, Mom! He'll think I'm…really serious or something."

  Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Good point. Better to play it cool."

  "You'll meet him eventually," I assured her.

  She bobbed her head cheerfully. "So, how many are you expecting for dinner tomorrow?"

  "Five altogether."

  "Five teenage boys? You're going to need a lot of food," she decided. "I'd better wire some more money into your account tonight. Don't forget to go to the grocery store before it closes at noon. Are you planning on getting a turkey or a ham?"

  "Maybe ham," I answered. "Since we just had turkey."

  "What are you going to do about a vegetable?"

  "Um. Ask for your help?"

  So together, we got online and picked out a recipe for green beans and another one for sweet potatoes. After that, we discussed the best apples for pie and Mom gave me step-by-step instructions for making pastry. By the time she was finished, I was convinced I should buy dessert. Unless Havoc was ready to take on the project.

  I went to bed with a long shopping list laying on my nightstand.

  Hooligan's frantic bark woke me on Thanksgiving morning. When I opened my eyes, I found my dog with his nose pressed against the edge of the door as if he was trying to squeeze through the narrow crack. He turned his face toward me and barked again.

  A warm wash of sunlight filtered through the white cotton curtains and I realized the room was too bright. I'd asked my mother to wake me up before she left and I'd expected her to leave long before sunrise.

  So I threw the covers off my legs and hurried downstairs with Hooligan where I found a note on the kitchen counter. It had snowed twelve inches overnight. Expecting bad roads and slow traffic, my mom had gotten up early and left without waking me.

  While Hooligan detoured straight for the mudroom, I rushed into the living room and looked out the window at the tire tracks in the snow. Feeling increasingly uneasy, I followed the sound of Hooli's anxious bark. I jogged into the mudroom and unlocked the door to the garage. Sunlight poured into the open garage bay and I cursed. In her hurry, my mother had left the garage door open. Normally she closes it. Not because we have to worry about anyone stealing our cars in a remote area like Pine Grove. But because the squirrels and birds are always getting in and trying to build homes.

  The concrete floor was icy on my bare feet as I rushed into the garage. When I saw the mess, I stopped and covered my mouth with my hand. "No!" I whispered as I gazed out onto the driveway. Two tire tracks cut into the foot-deep snow. And scattered across the brilliant white blanket lay splintered slats of wood.

  Hooligan raced past me and sniffed frantically around the garage floor where Valor's crate had stood. With his nose buried in the snow, he plowed out into the driveway a few feet. Then he stood in front of the garage, lifted his white muzzle upward and howled at the sky.

  "No!" I screamed as I ran for the tool chest and grabbed the hammer. "He's gone," I cried as I tore at the crate that held Dare. "Valor's gone!"

  The wooden boxes had been opened so many times that it wasn't hard to get the panels off but it seemed like forever before Dare stepped out of his crate. He took the hammer from my hand and worked on the next packing box while I moaned and hopped from one burning-cold foot to the other.

  "MacKenzie, it's freezing in here. Go get dressed," Dare ordered me. "And put something on your feet."

  I twisted my hands together, wanting him to get the boxes open, wanting him to do something, wanting him to find Valor, right now! I was afraid if I left, nobody would understand the urgency of the situation. Which was ridiculous. This was Valor's pack. They were going to be frantic to find him.

  Victor stepped out of his crate and Dare went to work on the next wooden box.

  "You have to find him!" I told Victor.

  The golden gargoyle grasped my upper arms. "We'll do that, MacKenzie. Now come inside and get dressed."

  Victor had to drag me back to the house where I raced upstairs. I was in such a panic, I didn't know what I was doing. I pulled on a bright tangerine tank top then took it off and put on my bra. Then I pulled on the tank top again like it was the middle of summer and we didn't have a foot of snow on the ground.

  I yanked a pair of jeans up my legs, tore open my bedroom door then hurried back into my room for my socks and shoes. I grabbed my knitted hat from the top of my dressing table before I ran back into the hallway.

  By the time I returned to the lower level, the gargoyles were standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me. I hoped they weren't going to call a pack meeting because we didn't have time for the pulling-of-knives and the flipping-of-coins. "We have to find Valor," I panted inanely.

  Victor eyed me calmly. "We'll find him, MacKenzie. But it would be a lot quicker if we knew where he was."

  Yes. Yes. I agreed absolutely but why were they all watching me like I could tell them where Valor was?

  Finally, Dare spoke up. "You have to find him for us, Mackenzie."

  My heart stopped beating as I stared at the gargoyles' grim faces and realized they expected me to find Valor…with my nonexistent witch powers. You can't imagine how tragic it was to think I was their best and only hope. Me. MacKenzie Campbell. A totally red but equally pathetic excuse for a witch.

  "But aren't there…aren't there any tracks to follow?" I asked, knowing that there weren't. I'd seen the splintered crate scattered across the pristine blanket of snow in front of the garage. There were no tire tracks other than those of my mother's Subaru. There were no footprints or paw prints or any other kind of prints except for the ones Hooligan had made when he dashed out in the snow, raised his head to the sky and howled in anguish.

  Like the rest of the pack, I knew that Valor had been taken—stolen by a harpy.