Hidden (House of Night Novels)

the workmen. The cowboy interacted freely with the horses. Aurox watched him move the huge Percheron and Lenobia’s black mare from one makeshift round pen to another.
    He does not merely work for Lenobia. She trusts him. The realization surprised Aurox. If a High Priestess can trust a human so much in times of stress and tumult, perhaps there is a chance that Zoey can—
    No. Aurox would not allow himself to indulge in such a fantasy. He’d heard what he was. Zoey had heard what he was. They all had! He had been formed by Darkness through the lifeblood of Zoey’s mother. He was beyond her trust or her forgiveness.
    There is only one person on this earth who trusts me—only one person who forgives me. It is to her that I must go.
    Aurox hung there, peering through the roots and the shards of bark, waiting … watching … Finally the humans began to meander from the stables, talking about how glad they were to be within walking distance of Queenies so they could have the Ultimate Egg sandwich for lunch, and laughing. Friends always laughed.
    Aurox longed to share the laughter of friends.
    When their backs were to him and their voices faded, the boy pulled himself fully from the pit and, monkey-like, scaled the felled tree to where it rested against the wall of the school, and then vaulted over it.
    Aurox wanted to sprint—to call the beast and tear the soil and run with all of his otherworldly might. Instead he forced himself to walk. He brushed the dirt, leaves, and grass from his clothing. He ran his fingers through the matted mess that was his hair, breaking apart the clumps of mud and blood, and combing it into some semblance of normalcy.
    Normal was good. Normal was not noticed. Normal was not apprehended.
    The vehicle was exactly where he’d left it the day before. The keys were still in the ignition. Aurox’s hands trembled only a little as the engine turned over and he made his way from the rear parking lot of Utica Square and headed southeast—to sanctuary.
    The drive seemed to take only a moment. Aurox was thankful for that. As he turned the car down Grandma Redbird’s lane, he rolled down his windows. Even though the day was cool, he wanted to drink in the scent of lavender, and with it accept the calm it offered. Just as he accepted the sanctuary Grandma Redbird had offered.
    When Aurox parked before her wide front porch, everything changed. At first he didn’t understand it—couldn’t process it. The scent hit him, but he fought the knowledge he breathed in with it.
    “Grandma? Grandma Redbird?” Aurox called as he got out of the car and jogged around the side of the little cottage. He expected to find her beside the crystal stream—she belonged there. She should have been humming a joyful song. Peaceful. Secure. Safe.
    She was not there.
    A terrible premonition washed over him. Aurox remembered the fetid scent that had drifted to him amidst the lavender air when he’d parked before Grandma’s home.
    Aurox ran.
    “Grandma! Where are you?” he was shouting as he rounded the side of the cottage, his feet sliding in the loose gravel that paved the small parking space in front of the home.
    Aurox grabbed the railing of the porch, and took the six stairs in two wide strides, stopping in the center of the wide, wooden deck, just before Grandma’s closed front door. Aurox yanked the door open and ran inside.
    “Grandma! It’s me, Aurox, your tsu-ka-nv-s-di-na . I have returned!”
    Nothing. She was not here. It felt wrong, so very wrong.
    Aurox retraced his steps, moving to the middle of the porch. The scent was thickest there.
    Darkness. Fear. Hatred. Pain. Aurox could read all those emotions and more from the blood that spattered the porch. As he stood there, breathing heavily, taking in the terrible knowledge of violence and destruction, the smoke came to him. It lifted from around his moccasin-clad feet in swirls, carrying wisps of information. Imprinted in the gray mist was an ancient song that lifted around him, feather-like. Within it Aurox could hear the echo of a courageous woman’s voice.
    Aurox closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Please, he pleaded silently, let me know what has happened here.
    Feelings assailed him—hatred and anger. Those feelings were easy to understand, familiar. “Neferet,” he whispered. “You have been here. I scent you. I feel you.” But after the familiar emotions came those which knocked him to his knees.
    Aurox felt Sylvia Redbird’s courage.