The Belial Stone (The Belial Series #1)(3)

Kenny dug down deep for a last reserve of energy, but his body wouldn’t comply. He was slowing. Dark spots were beginning to form around the edges of his vision, causing him to stumble and weave.

The professor had no such affliction. Kenny could feel his attention focused on him, the pounding of his feet maintaining their steady cadence. He kept coming, like a missile locked on its target, covering the distance to him in seconds. As he caught up with him, he didn’t pull him to stop. To Kenny’s astonishment, the professor started to run next to him. He glanced over at the man in terror. Gideon just smiled in response.

Then in a blur of motion, the man sprinted a few feet ahead. He came to came to a dead stop and whirled to face Kenny.

Kenny tried to dodge around him, but he was too exhausted and too slow. Gideon’s hand snaked out and easily grabbed him by the shoulder. Gideon turned him around and pulled him close.

Kenny struggled and managed to throw a feeble right hook at Gideon’s ribs.

Gideon smoothly blocked the punch and trapped both of Kenny’s arms with one of his own. He leaned down into Kenny’s terrified face and smiled, pressing the gun to his chest.

“Good for you, Mr. Coleman. Everyone should have such a sense of self-preservation. You’d be amazed at how few people actually do. And you've given a good effort, especially for a man of your age. You should be proud of yourself.”

Kenny wanted to rail at the man. He wanted to scream at him for doing this to him and plead with him to spare his life, if only for the sake of his daughter and grandchildren. But all he managed to rasp out was a single question.

“Why?”

Gideon's voice was almost a caress when he answered. His eyes looked strangely bright, as if covered in a sheen of tears. “It’s the only way for my misery to end. You have brought my search to its conclusion, Mr. Coleman. I will always appreciate that.” And with a beatific smile, he pulled the trigger three times.

Pain slashed through Kenny, and then, blessed numbness. He felt himself being lifted as the echoes of the gunshots retreated. He thought of his daughter and his heart already beating unsteadily, felt even heavier. I'm sorry, sweetheart.

Blue’s frantic barking changed to mournful howls as they approached the farmhouse. Run, Blue, run, Kenny shouted in his mind. But the only words that were heard weren't his.

“Don’t worry, Blue,” Gideon murmured. “I haven’t forgotten about you.”





CHAPTER 1



Dewitt, NY



Professor Delaney McPhearson glanced at the clock over the kitchen cabinets. She was barely a quarter of the way through the tall stack of undergrad criminology papers in front of her.

“Crap, crap, crap,” she muttered. She needed to move if she was going to make her self-defense class.

“Crap, crap, crap,” Max, her roommate Kati's three-year-old son, said from his spot on the floor.

Wincing, she gave Kati an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Forgot he was there.”

Jotting down two more quick remarks, she whisked the papers off the table, placing them next to the larger stack of still-to-be graded ones on the kitchen island.

She knelt down to Max and ruffled his sun-kissed brown hair. “That's a bad word, Max. I shouldn't have said it.”

Max nodded at her, his bright blue eyes, matching the Sesame Street t-shirt he wore, solemn. “Crap bad.”

Laney restrained the urge to smile. “Yes, bad.”

She looked over his head at Kati, who was shaking her head good-naturedly. Kati and Max shared same the soft, brown hair, slim build, and button nose. The only difference was their eye color: Kati's were a deep brown. Kati’s hair, now in a short pixie cut, only accentuated the similarities between mother and son.

“You better move if you’re going to make your class,” Kati warned.

“I’m going. I’m going.”

With a quick kiss to the top of Max's head, she jogged to the stairs. Taking them two at a time, she ducked into her room, and rummaged through her dresser for her workout clothes.

Pulling off her pajamas, she struggled into the sports bra and yanked on a deep purple t-shirt. Pulling her long, wavy, red hair into a ponytail, she had just slid into the black pants when her cell phone rang.

I have no time for whoever this is, she thought, even as she reached over to her nightstand to check the caller ID. She smiled and flipped the phone open, cradling it to her ear.

“Drew. Where the hell have you been?”

Drew Master’s familiar chuckle made Laney smile even wider. She pictured him sitting at his desk, his mop of curly brown hair falling over his deep blue eyes.

Her uncle had always hoped the two of them would turn their platonic friendship into a romantic one. At least, he had hoped it up until she explained that the main stumbling block was their identical taste in men.

“Sorry, Lanes. Work’s been insane.”

“See? You’re working too hard. You should have taken that position with my uncle.” Laney’s uncle, Father Patrick Delaney, was one of the Roman Catholic Church’s premier archaeologists. He’d gotten custody of Laney after her parents had died in a car crash when she was eight. As a result, she’d spent almost every summer at one dig site or another since childhood.

Since Laney met Drew freshman year of college, he’d spent every summer with them as well. Even when they went to different doctorate programs, they stayed close. When Drew finished his doctorate, her uncle had offered him a position with one of the Vatican’s dig sites. Drew turned him down. Instead he’d agreed to work with Dr. Arthur Priddle. Not a good call in Laney’s opinion, but also not her decision.