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Living Stone
By : AceMaxwell
Category: G through L > Hellboy
Views: 4868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy and I make no money off this fiction.
Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Hellboy pulled up to the Wells Rose Water Inn at ten till eleven. He put the truck in park and looked down at John. The kid started the trip as alert as a bird dog with a mark, but exhaustion had caught up to him after a few hours. Though his nap began against the window, he'd slid against Hellboy's shoulder after a sharp turn and Hellboy never bothered to right him. If the kid was wearing his seatbelt, he wouldn't have fallen over so far.

After John kept shifting forward, Hellboy lifted his arm to let the kid sleep against his ribcage, holding him in place with his flesh hand. Hellboy didn't want to think about how strangely comfortable it was having the kid so close. Even after he'd shut the engine off, Hellboy sat in the truck and watched John sleep.

John's confession took him completely by surprise. His mind still tumbled over it as he wondered why the kid would admit something so personal. It took people a long time to warm up to Hellboy and he typically took an even longer time to warm up to them, but there was something different about this kid.

A lot of the agents at BPRD were misfits. They came from destroyed homes or lives, or had been persecuted for who and what they were, so John's history would hardly bother anyone. Hellboy guessed that what made John stand out was that his wounds were still fresh; he hadn't gotten a chance to harden like some of the others. It didn't seem like anyone had ever turned a friendly ear to the kid and it was showing in the way he was drawing close to Hellboy.

Hellboy did the math. John had graduated at sixteen, but hadn't appeared in Vegas as John Myers until a few months ago. Assuming the information he'd fed the bureau about his graduation was correct, then it was possible that he'd spend four years or more in the institution. There were too many holes in the story to be certain. He didn't think John was lying, but he didn't have enough information to put together a complete picture.

One of the bureau's jeeps was parked along the side of the inn. Kate must've brought it with her on the cargo plane. Unlike Hellboy, who liked to play off the cuff when he was working, Kate preferred to be prepared for any situation. If she thought she'd need a car, she brought one.

"Are we in Wells?" John asked, his words choked with sleep.

Hellboy pulled his arm away so the kid could sit up, and said, "Yeah, we're here."

Smoothing his hair unsuccessfully with one hand, John surveyed the parking lot blearily and turned to Hellboy, "Do we still have rooms? I need a shower."

"I think we do."

"Good." John slid out of the truck and Hellboy followed suit. As the kid leaned over the side of the bed to get his duffle, he said sheepishly, "I hope I didn't drool on you."

Hellboy reached over his to grab the bag, smirking as he slung it over his shoulder, "Maybe a little."

"I did not!" John denied, though his face flushed.

Chuckling, Hellboy went inside. Off to the right of the narrow lobby, there was a dining area with large windows that opened to the street. Sitting at one of the five tables with a newspaper spread out in front of her was Kate. She glanced up as they entered, giving Hellboy a smile.

Hellboy handed John his bag and motioned at the stairs, "Why don't you go get showered and changed?"

"Alright," John answered, leaning around to wave at Kate. He lowered his voice so only Hellboy could hear, "She's going to send me home, isn't she?"

"She's going to try, kid. You're not ready for this."

"But-"

"You may be ready to work for the BPRD, but you're not trained yet. Agents that have been with us for years wouldn't be prepared for something like this," Hellboy explained easily, reaching out to squeeze the kid's shoulder.

John studied his face, asking, "Do you think I can help you?"

"I think you could, but I also think you could get killed out here." The kid looked so determined that Hellboy sighed. He knew John wasn't going to give up. Whatever it was that the kid had to prove, he was trying to do it on this mission. Hellboy decided that fighting with him would be a waste of effort, "Alright, look. You duck when I tell you to duck, you run when I tell you to run. If you don't follow orders, I'm sending you to Connecticut, clear?"

"Clear," there was triumph in John's tone.

"Go clean up, you reek," Hellboy joked and watched the kid trot down the hall. Once he'd disappeared around a corner, Hellboy walked into the dining hall. He tossed the truck keys to the owner as he passed him at the bar, "Thanks. I put a full tank of gas in it for you."

"Right, I'll go get your deposit. She run well for you then?"

"She ran perfect. Got her a little muddy though."

The owner shook his head and gave a good-natured laugh, "She's a truck, not a lady. She doesn't mind a little muck now and again."

"Yeah, I guess," Hellboy grunted, motioning at the tables. "I'll be in the dining hall."

Halfway to the desk, the owner stopped and snapped his fingers as though he'd just remember something. "Can I get you some breakfast?"

"Full English would be great."

"And the other chap? Is he going to want something?"

Hellboy started to order a second English, but changed his mind. If the kid turned out to be a vegetarian or something, he wouldn't eat it. "He'll order when he comes back."

Hellboy eased into the chair across from Kate, not positive that the spindly thing would hold his weight. It groaned a little, but didn't buckle. She folded her paper and tucked it into her canvas bag, leaning on the table.

"Let's see this bone."

Straight to the point, as always. Hellboy dug the fragment out of his pocket and dropped it on the glass tabletop. It clicked and bounced across the surface before Kate trapped it beneath her cupped hand. Pulling out a small loupe, Kate examined the bone under magnification.

"Looks like an ordinary bone. Are you sure this is what he was after?" she asked, turning the bone over so she could scrutinize the other side.

"The kid's sure, so I'm sure."

She smirked and wryly commented, "Sounds like you two are getting along now. What changed?"

Hellboy slid down in the chair so he was slouching against the back, sticking his long legs out on either side of the table. He shrugged casually, "I guess I did. He just wasn't what I was expecting."

Kate looked up at him, silently asking him to elaborate.

"It's just… you said he scored so damn high on his IQ test-"

"Ridiculously high."

"Yeah, and I was expecting him to be more stuck up and opinionated. Like Jamison."

Kate finally lowered the loupe and leaned down to dig through her bag. "Jamison isn't nearly as bright as Myers," she said as she produced a small evidence envelope to put the bone into. Once it was tucked securely in one of the front pockets of her backpack, Kate went back to the cup of coffee sitting near her elbow. "You know, not every intelligent human being is pious and rude."

"Just a good chunk of them," he said, flicking a crumb off the table.

Swallowing her sip of coffee, Kate quipped, "A girl with a doctorate could take offense to that."

"Ha ha," his tone was light, but dry. "You know I don't mean you."

The owner came over with a tray covered in food and a yellowed envelope that he tucked between the salt and peppershakers. Hellboy hadn't realized how hungry he was, but as the smell of the sausage hit him, he was salivating. To keep himself from grabbing the food from the man, Hellboy picked up the deposit from the table and put his money away while the owner set out all of the plates.

The owner asked, "Can I get you anything else?" but Hellboy's mouth was too full to answer.

Kate sighed at Hellboy then turned a pleasant smile onto the man, "I think we're fine for now."

He nodded and left, leaving Kate to sit in silence while Hellboy shoveled food into his mouth. He went after the meat and beans first, pushing the various vegetables on top of the hash browns. The bacon was a little soggy, but everything else was cooked to perfection. Hellboy took his time to savor the black pudding because it was so hard to find in the states. It had been sliced and grilled, which was his favorite preparation.

After half the breakfast was gone, Hellboy finally slowed down enough to resume the conversation. "I want the kid to stay. He needs some field experience."

Kate opened her mouth, then closed it, eyeing Hellboy warily, "Did you come in contact with a maldrake?"

"My brain is fine."

"Are you sure, because you're not the same Hellboy. Seriously, how did you go from wanting to shove this prospective agent off at the nearest bus stop to wanting to lead him by the hand through field training?"

Hellboy shoved some mushrooms into his mouth, giving her a noncommittal grunt. Knowing her expression was probably somewhere between curious and amused, he didn't bother looking up from his meal.

"What's going on?" Kate asked.

She wasn't someone who didn't mind leaving a loose end. It was part of her charm, but her insatiable hunger for knowledge frequently got her into trouble. Kate would follow a trail of clues all the way into the waiting mouth of disaster.

Sticking a whole tomato slice in his mouth gave Hellboy a moment to decide what to say. After he'd swallowed, he offered, "He's got a lot of potential. I want to make sure he's trained properly."

She raised one carefully groomed eyebrow, "I know bullshit when I smell it, Red."

"He doesn't want to go back. I've tried."

"He doesn't have much of a choice. An order is an order."

Hellboy stared at her. Everyone at the bureau knew that trying to give Hellboy orders was like trying to get a bear to wear a party dress. He'd go where he was told to go and team up with whoever they sent with him, but beyond that, he made all his decisions in the field. Director Manning, just like his predecessor, had learned it was better to let Hellboy run his own show. He had too much experience for micromanagement.

"You want him to stay now just because I said that," Kate groaned and set down her coffee cup.

Hellboy went back to his food, scraping up what was left of the eggs, "The kid knows the dangers. If he still wants to stay in the field, then I've got his back."

Kate held up her hands in surrender, "All right, all right, but you'd better be the one to explain to Manning why you thought you needed to endanger an untrained recruit. My job ends and taking the bone back to the vault."

Hellboy could tell by her tone that he'd touched a nerve. She didn't understand his decision and was annoyed that he wouldn't explain himself. It wouldn't put a damper on their friendship or anything, but she'd be irritated until she left. He was anticipating it when she crossed her arms over her chest and the action made him smirk.

"What?" Kate griped.

Hellboy shook his head and started stacking his empty plates, "Nothing."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kate was getting ready to go when John made it to the dining area. He could tell instantly that her annoyed expression had something to do with Hellboy, but he didn't want to pry beyond it. There was no question that it was related to John wanting to stay and Hellboy standing behind his decision.

As he entered the room, Kate said, "I hope you understand what you're doing is reckless."

He didn't get a chance to say anything in his defense. Kate dropped the keys to the jeep on the table and said a curt 'goodbye' to Hellboy before strutting out the door. After she was gone, John sat down next to Hellboy, "She's pretty pissed."

"More worried than anything. That's just how she shows it."

They both watched Kate out the front windows until another BPRD jeep pulled up to get her. She cast one more look at Hellboy as she got into the vehicle and he lifted his hand to acknowledge her. John studied the empty plates on the table, his stomach groaning with pain as he searched for leftovers. There wasn't much left but smears of sauce and a few crumbs.

As though Hellboy shared his sixth sense, he mentioned, "I didn't know what you'd want, so I didn't order anything." The demon got up and the chair seemed to sigh as it decompressed. "I'm going to go clean up. Get something to eat and we'll leave in a bit."

"Where are we going now?"

"To see somebody else I know."

John's brow arched up, leaving faint worry creases on his forehead, "Somebody like Gruagach?"

"Sort of. She's a little more dangerous than he is, but you should have an easier time reading her. She'll probably know where the Unseelie are gathering."

John prickled with a mix of fear and anticipation. There was something like adrenaline that excited him, but his weighty common sense tried to tell him that he shouldn't live on the thrill of this kind of work. He pushed everything away and focused on the inn's menu as Hellboy wandered off. Settling on the least foreign meal on the menu, John still nixed anything that sounded strange to his American mindset. His order made the innkeeper laugh.

"First time in England?"

"Yes."

"Let me handle it. I'll bring you something you'll like," the man said jovially, taking the menu.

A simple plate of bacon, eggs, and toast arrived a few minutes later, which John eagerly dug into. He was almost done eating when Hellboy came back. The demon's black hair was still wet, slicked tightly against his head in the topknot he usually wore. It looked as though he'd rinsed his coat off in the sink. Most of the blood was gone, but it had already stained the camel-colored material. Water dripped slowly from the duster's hem where Hellboy stopped, a pool forming beneath his feet.

"Come on kid, we've got to get going," the demon said.

John stuck the last piece of toast in his mouth and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. As he chewed, he suggested, "I should take a look at those bites."

"You a doctor now?"

They stepped outside and Hellboy slipped a cigar into the corner of his mouth. Striking a match on his stone arm, he touched the flame to the cigar and took a few short drags to get it burning. Once he'd put the match out, he walked towards the BPRD jeep. John followed at his heels.

"If you don't keep them clean, you could get an infection."

Hellboy climbed into the driver's side door, momentarily disorienting John. The jeep was set up for driving in the states and they'd just spend most of the previous day in an English car. It only took him a second to start for the other door.

"Don't worry about it, I heal fast," Hellboy explained as John got in the car.

The demon pulled the lapel of his jacket aside so John could see the puckered scab on his neck from the kelpie's attack. It looked as though it had been healing for a week or more, not a few hours. John touched the scab delicately, amazed that a wound so large could shrink so quickly. He sat back and was acutely aware of his own aches. Wishing that he had the demon's ability to heal didn't make the pain fade any.

This time, Hellboy went north. The drive was long and Hellboy spent most of it asking John questions. John was tempted to throw the 'twenty questions game' comment back at the demon, but decided that he didn't mind the curious exploration. He could feel Hellboy trying to put something together in his mind, most of his inquiries aimed at John's teenage years.

John knew exactly what discrepancy Hellboy was hammering out. John had been put into the asylum at sixteen, taken a piece of sharp plastic to his wrist at seventeen, but only appeared in Vegas under the name John Myers approximately ten months ago. Since he'd told Hellboy he was twenty-two, there was a lot of time unaccounted for. When he started answering repeats of questions, John finally took pity on Hellboy and gave him the last puzzle piece.

"I'm not twenty-two."

Hellboy shot an edged glance at him, "What do you mean?"

"Your timeline is right, you're just missing the fact that I'm not actually twenty-two."

John's stomach tightened as Hellboy pulled the jeep off the road. The lie about his age had been circling his head from the moment he'd let it leave his mouth and he was terrified that it would be the one thing that would get him sent home. Hellboy put the jeep in park and turned in the seat so he could fix a hard stare on John. John focused on the creases of his jeans, following the lines on the faded denim with his fingertips as Hellboy studied him.

Finally, the demon growled, "How old are you?"

"I only lied about it because I was afraid that-"

"How old?"

John bit his lip hard enough that he tasted blood, "I thought the bureau wouldn't let me work for them if-"

"Stop dancing around it. Tell me how old you are or I'm taking you back to the airstrip."

"Nineteen," John breathed and tentatively looked up at Hellboy.

The demon's expression was as blank as his carefully guarded thoughts. Surprise eased out of the blockade, but little else. John was beginning to hate the impeccable control Hellboy had over his mind. He wanted to know what the demon was thinking. He needed to know.

When Hellboy stayed quiet, John shifted uncomfortably in his seat and scrubbed the back of his head with his nails. "Say something," he pleaded.

The demon's baritone was heavy with disapproval, "Are you really nineteen, or are you still lying to me?"

"I'm really nineteen."

Pushing one stone finger against John's chest, Hellboy stated, "I don't like being lied to."

"I understand," John mumbled, feeling as though he was drowning in guilt.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, giving himself a few years so the bureau wouldn't think he was still a child, but he didn't imagine it would backfire so magnificently. He wanted Hellboy to understand so he'd stop glaring at John as if he'd just admitted he was a Nazi or something else as horrible.

Hellboy dropped back against his seat and grumbled, "Jeez, you really are just a kid."

John grit his teeth. It was that thought that made him lie to begin with. The moment he admitted to someone that he was still a teenager, suddenly he was viewed as an infant that needed a babysitter, not a potential agent that needed a mentor. If his mother hadn't derailed his life, he would've been ready to graduate college in the next year and probably move on to upper-level studies. He'd never felt his age, often acting so mature as a child that he completely isolated himself from other students.

"I'm not a child," John insisted.

"Yeah kid, you are."

"I am not, and I think I've earned a little more respect than that. I lied because I didn't want people assuming that I wasn't capable of doing this job. You're just giving my theory credence." It pleased John that Hellboy turned away and actually thought about what he said. He gave the demon a moment to mull, then asked, "How old were you when you started doing this kind of work?"

Hellboy shook his head with a snort, "That doesn't count. I age differently than you do."

"Tell me."

"I was twelve, but I already weighed two-seventy-five and could bench press three-hundred pounds."

"Well," John chuckled. "I'm never going to be able to bench press three-hundred pounds, doesn't matter whether I'm nineteen or thirty or fifty."

Hellboy smiled at that and agreed, "I guess that's true." The demon put the jeep back into drive and pulled out onto the quiet road. John had just started to relax when Hellboy said, "You'd better not lie to me again."

"Scout's honor."

"Yeah, I'm going to hold you to that, Scout."

"Please don't call me that. It makes me think of To Kill a Mockingbird."

"Would you prefer Boyscout?"

"No."

"Too bad, it's already stuck."

John groaned.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was well past one-o'clock when Hellboy pulled into their destination. He turned off the pavement onto a gravel road forked off of the main road. It twisted off into tightly grouped stands of trees. The road was rarely traveled and it was made evident by the thousands of weeds and flowers that poked up through the rocks. It had been nearly fifteen years since the last time Hellboy had come out this way, but it didn't look like much had changed in that time. If memory served him well, which it usually did, the gravel road disappeared after a few miles and actually led away from the cottage they were trying to reach.

Hellboy parked the jeep a few feet off the gravel and got out, "We walk from here."

"But the jeep is designed for off-roading. I think it can handle-"

"I don't want her to hear us coming."

"Oh," John mumbled as he slid out of the passenger side. The kid jogged to catch up with Hellboy when he motioned for him. "Should I be learning how to use a gun?"

"We've still got to get you a gun," Hellboy said and slipped a friendly arm over the kid's shoulders.

Hellboy inwardly groaned when he thought the word 'kid'. Nineteen was too young, too young to work at the bureau, too young for Hellboy to consider chasing, but he was having a hard time being convinced of it. Liz had been brought into the bureau when she was around ten, though she hadn't started working as an agent until she was in her twenties.

Nineteen was beyond the age of consent in every state, but Hellboy still felt a bit like a pedophile. Though he didn't look it, Hellboy was well into his sixties and there was no way a kid so young should ever be with someone like him. Kids John's age should be meeting people in college and getting wrapped up in their first real romance, not traipsing around the backwoods of England looking for a witch that would probably eat them if she managed to kill them.

John slipped out from under his arm and turned to stand in Hellboy's path, "Will you stop that!"

Hellboy went around him, kicking himself for letting his mind wander. Even though he knew exactly what John was talking about, he played dumb, "Stop what?"

"Kids my age look at me like I'm a freak of nature so I'd appreciate it if you'd stop lumping me in with them."

Hellboy kept moving. Scanning the trees for possible threats seemed like a much better idea than looking back at the kid. John was probably right, that he was mature enough to handle anything the bureau threw at him, but Hellboy worried anyway. If he hadn't been almost as indestructible at twelve as he was now, he never would have made it through the early years of his career.

John's voice was strong enough to make Hellboy stop in his tracks, "And I think I should be the one to choose who I want to be with."

Wondering if the kid was serious about wanting him, Hellboy turned to face him. The boy's expression was just as determined as it was when he'd said he wanted to stay to finish the mission. Instead of addressing it, Hellboy flipped his thoughts back to the mission, "I'd rather if she didn't know you were here, so I want you to wait outside."

Confusion swept over John's resolute features. When Hellboy started walking, John hurried to catch up, saying, "Wait a minute, what about-"

The territory he was in was too dangerous for Hellboy and he didn't know how to maneuver without doing something he'd regret. Hellboy only needed one hand to count up how many sexual partners he'd had in his life and he didn't need any hands to count up the ones that could put up with him for more than a few months. Liz liked to say that Hellboy had been burned a few times, but everything was fire with Liz.

"We're not discussing it," Hellboy snapped.

John grabbed his sleeve, "But-"

Pushed to his limit, Hellboy whirled on him and leaned forward to growl, "You don't know what you're asking, so knock it off. Last warning, kid."

For the first time since he'd met the boy, John's eyes took on an innocent bewilderment as if Hellboy had just broken his favorite toy and laughed about it. It was gone in a flash of defensive hurt that Hellboy didn't like. John pushed him back with a scowl and put a few yards between them.

Hellboy stood where John left him, watching the kid pace sporadically through the trees. He wanted to help the kid understand why it wouldn't work, that there was age, and gender, and species to consider, but any one of those things had never stopped Hellboy before. He'd just had it go wrong too often. The kid was hotheaded and Hellboy was undoubtedly attracted to him, there was just no way it could last. Eventually, whatever John saw in Hellboy would be forgotten, or would get old, and the kid would take off.

Glancing around to get his bearings, Hellboy started in the direction of the cottage. The kid followed at a distance and Hellboy let him. When the smoke from the chimney was visible, Hellboy crossed over to John and pulled him down into a crouch. The kid gave him a deadly glare that Hellboy ignored.

"I want you to keep as quiet as possible and get close enough to the house that you can sort through her thoughts. She's going to lie to me, but you should be able to glean what we need to know."

John shrugged his hand off his shoulder, "Alright, I got it."

"Stay out of sight."

The kid stressed each syllable as he hissed, "I got it."

Hellboy got up thinking he was going to have to have a serious talk with the kid before the end of the mission. For the time being, he edged out from between two oaks and left John to do his job. His tail was curling and twisting in agitation, so he focused on stilling it. That was one thing Dagdea would pick up on.

Like the road, not much had changed about the cottage in fifteen years. The stone front was covered in vines so thick that it looked as though it was made of living materials. Narrow windows peeked out of the leaves, too dark to see inside. The thatched roof was unkempt and the vines had made their way all the way to the redbrick chimney. Here and there, wild blown seeds had taken root in the wooden roof, sprouting into stunted plants. If Hellboy didn't know better, he'd think the cottage was abandoned.

He didn't have to knock. As he was coming up the cobblestone path, the door eased open. He ducked through the low jam and curled his tail against his legs so it wouldn't get caught when the door slammed shut. The first thing he noticed was that her collection of hands had grown. They hung from the ceiling at various levels, all withered and all human. Bound to the ceiling by lengths of twine tied at the wrist, the curled fingers reached down to the floor desperately. Every so often, one would twitch or stretch in the dim light from the fire.

A few of them bumped against Hellboy's head, sending an involuntary shiver across his frame. A particularly large hand scrabbled to grab onto one of his horns, the nails scraping across the stump. He swatted it away.

The old, stooped woman at the fire was as withered as the hands dangling from her ceiling. Her face looked more like leather than skin, darkened by centuries of life that were not natural for a human. She was stirring a large pot that was suspended over the fire on a metal hook. Whatever it was smelled like food, not a spell. Witch's magic had a certain odor to it that Hellboy would be able to recognize from miles away. It always had this hot ozone tinge to it, like the smell copper gets when a massive amount of electricity pours through it. The contents of the pot had the savory aroma of beef stew.

"You come about the Shade King," Dagdea said simply, hitting the wooden spoon on the side of the pot.

Each loud metallic bang made the hands flinch. Their skin was as thin and dry as old paper and their movement whispered like dead leaves in the wind. Dagdea set the spoon down on a table behind her and turned to Hellboy. Her lips didn't quite meet over her large, gray teeth, making it look as though she was constantly sneering. What little hair she had draped in thin, white strings across her leathery features.

As far as Hellboy could guess, she was almost six-hundred years old. She'd been around for the rise and fall of hundreds of kings, both Fay and human alike. There were few creatures in England that knew as much as she did. Though she was a threat to anyone who came near her, she didn't seek out people to kill, mostly keeping to herself. Her darkest habit was collecting the hands of the dead, so BPRD had decided in the sixties that she wouldn't be a target unless she did something to jeopardize human lives.

"If they wake him up, everything is going to change. I need to know where the Unseelie are gathering," Hellboy said.

Dagdea shuffled past him slowly, barely picking her feet up enough to move. "You know I don't work for free, demon."

She went to a wall to the right of front door. It was lined with shelves that were covered in opaque jars and bottles. When the fire flared in just the right way, Hellboy could see cloudy shapes within the colored glass, but he didn't want to know what they were. Dagdea ran one hand over the faded, curling labels, moving her lips with the words written there. She made a pleased sound and picked up a squat jar that might've been used for canning in a regular home. She unscrewed the lid and held the jar out to Hellboy.

"Spit," the witch ordered.

Hellboy worked up some saliva in his mouth, but asked, "What are you going to do with it?"

"Nothing that will threaten your precious mortals, or you."

He cleared his throat and spit into the glass, wrinkling his nose at the action. The witch quickly twisted the lid back on and set it on the highest shelf she could reach, sandwiching it between a tall green bottle that was glowing slightly from within and a clear glass container with a tarantula living in it. Hellboy eyed the gigantic spider, tapping the side of the jar so it would shrink away from the glass.

"Ask your questions," she grumbled as she lowered herself into a high-backed chair.

Hellboy left the spider alone, "We know they're resurrecting the Shade King, we just don't know where or what else they need to bring him back."

With a cackling call, a one-eye crow dove from its hiding place in the open rafters. Instinctually, Hellboy ducked as it swooped by him, though it didn't have its talons extended for an attack. It glided across the room and perched on the witch's chair, scratching the upholstery as it got settled.

Dagdea smiled and smoothed the animal's feathers, "They need all the bones and a Fay strong enough to harness and speak the wild magic. His resurrection must take place during the witching hour on the darkest night of the month."

"You're talking about the new moon."

She nodded, her head looking like it might break off her narrow neck with the movement. Above them, the dried hands rustled. "The moon must be covered in shadow."

The new moon was in five days, it gave them a little time to search, but not much. As long as they kept the last bone out of Fay hands, they would have more than that. Hellboy assumed that they already had a Fay powerful enough to enact the ancient rights, probably the same one that took the bones from the crypt. If they were strong enough, or cunning enough, to get the iron box open without being destroyed, then they could certainly handle the resurrection. Hellboy just wished he had a face or a name to hunt.

"What about the Shade Court? Where are they gathering?"

Hellboy's nerve-endings prickled as the witch and the bird cackled together. He was missing something and that something was very ominous. His hand went to his gun before he even realized he was doing it, his fingers wrapping tightly around the wooden stock. The smooth, familiar texture was only a minor comfort.

"I would not be concerned with the Unseelie at this moment, demon," the witch chuckled, running her bony fingers through the bird's feathers. "I hope your human companion knows to stay away from mushroom circles."

Her laughter chased Hellboy outside.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TBC…

Okay, so I know a few of you already thought John was a little young and now he's even younger… He's very mature for his age… don't kill me. And don't worry, they'll get to the relationship soon.

Also, Dagdea is not from the comics, she's an OC you might or might not see again. I haven't decided yet, but I'm already fond of her.
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Living Stone	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 4868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy and I make no money off this fiction.

Living Stone