Page 62 of Stone Cold Touch

A wry smile formed on Gerald’s lips. “We’re still kicking.” Rolling down his sleeve, his gaze shifted to Roth. “But we’re careful.”

“Understandable,” replied Roth. He finally removed his arm, and I put about a foot of space between us. “Wardens have never looked too kindly on witches, now have they?”

I frowned, and it intensified when Gerald nodded and said, “No, sir.”

“Why?” There wasn’t much known about witches. Or at least I hadn’t put the effort into discovering more about them.

“Witches aren’t rocking all-human DNA.” Roth eyed Gerald with a measure of respect. “Although they don’t claim their other half, witches have demonic blood in them.”

My head swung toward him sharply. “What?”

Roth nodded. “Witches are the offspring of demons and humans, shortie. Not that they’re exceptionally proud of that little fact. Sometimes they’re first generation, and other times, they had a demon in the family somewhere way back. The blood might not be as strong, but it’s there. How else do you think they get such awesome magical abilities?”

I blinked rapidly. “Did not know that.”

“How about you?” Roth leaned forward. “Gerald? Are you first generation or was it a great-grandpappy dipping the quill where he wasn’t supposed to?”

I thought it was strange that Roth didn’t automatically know what Gerald was with all his awesome demon greatness.

Gerald must’ve read my mind, because his grin went up a notch. “Demons can’t sense us. We have charms preventing that, because we really aren’t on Team Demon. More like Team Mother Earth, but to answer your question, it was a grandmother—a Fiend. Had a child who was a witch. That witch was my mom.”

Roth rocked back as he folded his arms across his chest. “Cool. Anyway. Back to the whatever this is.” He jerked his head toward the creepy cocoon. “I’m assuming you realize that ain’t normal?”

He laughed drily. “Far from it. I’ve been keeping an eye on it since I found it—about two and a half, three weeks ago.” His gaze landed on me, and my shoulders slumped. “Not sure what it is. No one in my coven knows either, but that’s not all.”

“It’s not?” murmured Roth. “Oh, goody.”

“Nope.” He turned. “Follow me.”

I glanced at Roth and he nodded. Deciding to see this through, I followed Gerald back into the main room. It was a little odd that Gerald knew what we were—what I was. It shouldn’t make me feel weird, but I’d always had the upper hand before when it came to sniffing out the not-so-normal.

Gerald stepped around the slime coating a bench and stopped in front of a closed locker. “All this ectoplasm can’t be good, right? At first I thought it had to do with that thing in there, but I’m not so sure now.”

Roth stepped forward, straining his neck. “Why not?”

“Easier to just show you.” Stepping to the side, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a red hanky. Using it, he carefully and very slowly opened the door.

“Hell,” muttered Roth.

Being incredibly short, I couldn’t see around either of them. Sighing, I moved to Roth’s other side and immediately wished I hadn’t.

Crammed into the locker was athing—a creature I’d never seen before. Its body was the color of spoiled milk—off white and sort of lumpy looking. No visible hair or definition on its slender and tall frame. Looked to be about six feet tall and no wider than two feet. Arms were folded across its chest and its head was bowed down. No facial features at all. We’d found the source of the slime. The gunky white liquid dripped from barely formed feet.

My stomach turned. “What in the Hell is that?”

“Good question.” Gerald closed the door quietly. “It’s not the only one. Almost every locker down here has one in it.”

“Oh...” My eyes widened. “And you didn’t think about saying something?”

“To who?” Gerald turned to us, eyes sharp. “The Wardens would likely kill us on the spot for the blood we carry and demons would likely kill us for sport. And I have no idea what these things are. Neither does anyone in our coven. We’re not about indiscriminately killing things.”

“Tree huggers,” muttered Roth, which earned him a hard glare. “What’s in that locker isn’t Santa Claus or the damn Easter Bunny.”

A shiver danced down my spine. I had a really bad feeling about this.

“And maybe if you knew what that cocoon was, then you’d understand that this—” Roth continued, waving his hand at the lockers “—isn’t something you want infesting a school full of humans.”

Gerald’s shoulders stiffened.

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