Gryphon and His Thief (19 page)

He didn't keep her guessing, but withdrew the
item she coveted from his pocket and held it between his forefinger
and thumb for her to see. She reached for it, but he whipped it out
of her range above his head. "Nay. You have not answered my
question. What will happen to Calli?"

She lifted her elegant shoulders in a shrug.
"She is dead already, if I do nothing," she told him. She glanced
at the stone figure of Calli forever frozen in a position of her
trying to flee. "At least with the ritual I intend to do, she'll be
released from her prison and her soul will have the chance to be
reborn once again."

"You are not endearing me to see your side of
things," he seethed with anger.
Damn the infernal female.
He
would kill her. He would rip her to shreds and scatter her body in
the four regions. "You do not need to drain her for the ritual to
work," he said and was surprised his voice remained steady.

"Perhaps not, but it would be much more fun
to see her bleed out…again."

He inwardly flinched at her words, the dig
driving deeper into his heart, where the wound had never quite
healed. Isa had watched Callista die, had waited until she drew her
last breath.

"You never did see things my way," she pouted
then her eyes turned cold. "Let me speak plainly. You don't have a
choice." She glanced at Bert.

The man hadn't so much as shied away from
what transpired here tonight. He must have been with Isa a long
time or perhaps he shared in her diabolical tendencies and saw
nothing amiss.

"Bring the statue outside," she ordered Bert.
"And be careful not to drop it," she added as she sauntered by
Darrien, but paused in the doorway. "We don't want Calli to lose a
limb…or her pretty little head. It would be such a shame if that
happened." Her lips curved into a smile and her eyes shimmered with
maniacal delight. She enjoyed inflicting pain. Be it physical or
not. No matter what he did or promised, she would not let Calli
live.

He knew Isa as a child, when she was wild and
carefree. She would often times tag along with him and his friends
when they flew to the mountaintop to look over the lands where they
could view the village and the sea beyond.

She was a few years younger, but she never
slowed them down. She could keep up with most of the males. Fast
and sure, diving toward the water then soaring as if she could
reach the heavens. Then her laughter of pure joy would make him
smile.

He'd known she was fond of him. He'd seen the
sly glances when she thought he wouldn't notice, but he truly
believed it to be a fanciful attraction of youth. He thought she'd
grow up to realize they were never meant to be.

From the moment he met Callista, he knew, she
would be his, and she shared the same belief of him. The attraction
between them could not be ignored. Her mere laughter would bring
joy to his heart. She was sweet as she was clever. He sighed
wearily.

In truth, he had forgotten about Isa by the
time she was old enough to find her mate and start a family. If
only he had talked to her, convinced her she would find someone
else who would love her with all his heart.
If only…

He could go on forever with a list of what he
could have done, but it proved too late for any of it. Isa was no
longer a young female, tagging along to see what mischief she would
find herself in. She'd forgotten how to enjoy life. Hatred governed
her, and she took happiness away from others as if consuming their
glee would somehow fill the emptiness in her heart.

Darrien followed Isa. She paused when she
spotted her two men who had been stationed outside the motel room.
"Are they dead?" she asked Darrien.

"No," he told her. He had no need to kill
them. He caught them unaware and knocked them out with little
effort.

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Useless,
those two. I wish you would have saved me the trouble." She
continued on her way without a backward glance. Her steps were sure
and proud, and her hips swayed back and forth with confidence. She
had the walk of a warrior back from battle and carting the riches
for the coffers.

She did not realize he had not given up, not
in the least, but with Calli frozen, he had no choice but to play
along for the moment. Isa had pushed him into a corner, but this
time he would not allow her to take the woman he loved from this
world. By the gods, once he had vowed to protect Callista and
failed. This was his chance to make good his promise by saving
Calli tonight.

Isa halted her steps in the center of the
parking lot. Bert placed the statue of Calli down and stood guard
as if he too had turned to stone with the way he folded his arms
across his chest and waited for further instructions.

Darrien regarded Isa curiously, wondering
what she planned next.

"Hand over Hecate's Stone, if you will," Isa
demanded of him. She outstretched her hand, palm up as if he would
just plop the item into her clutches and call it a day.

She would be sadly disappointed. "Undo the
magic you cast on Calli," he countered. "I will have my proper
goodbye before you perform any ritual. You owe me that much." He
took the steps separating him from Calli and stood in front of her,
afraid to touch her and feel the cold stone and not the heat of her
flesh. "Hecate's Stone for Calli's release," he said, just to make
sure she understood the terms.

Isa's eyes narrowed becoming dark slits of
fury. "What makes you believe you have the upper hand and can make
demands? I'm in control of the situation." She tapped her chest
with her index finger. "I've turned your little twit to stone, and
you're cursed, a slave to the hours of the day. I don't see how
this gives you an advantage to demand anything."

He gave her a slow appraising look. Not a
hair out of place, and her outfit gave her a polished and
sophisticated appearance of a woman who could command an empire,
but the slight trembling of her lower lip gave her away. She could
never command, when she could not control her own emotions. Isa
only looked after herself and when she didn't have her way, she
pouted and stomped her feet.

A memory of her as a child came to mind.
She'd wanted a trinket her brother had brought back from a raid,
but he wanted to give it to a girl he sought to court. Isa had
destroyed the trinket in a fit of rage then took to the sky,
screeching until the tribe thought their ears would bleed. There
were other temper tantrums through the years, but no one foresaw
the treachery she'd be capable of exacting. She'd murdered his
wife, caused the destruction of their tribe, and the gods only knew
what other immoral acts she'd done through the centuries. She'd
mentioned a wizard and his ring, and no doubt others had suffered
at her hands. By all the stars in the heavens, she had skirted
justice long enough, but first he must play her game for just a
little while longer, before he changed the rules and finished this
for good.

"I have lived with my losses," he told her
with a shrug as if he didn't care if the curse lasted another
century or not.
So be it,
is what he thought. "Being cursed
would be just another day. You threaten me with nothing, Isa. I
will have my goodbye with Calli, and you will set her free. It's my
condition if you want me to stand by your side," he told her.

She seemed to consider his words as her keen
eyes bore into him. She most likely wondered if he would deceive
her, but in the end she chose what she wanted to believe. She
wanted him, yes, but as a person who wants an object to display on
a mantle, a prize she'd won.

Words from the old world flew from her lips
and the wind picked up, swirling around them like a dancer enjoying
the tune Isa belted out as sweet and sure as an opera singer upon a
stage. He took a step back, allowing the magic to take hold of
Calli.

Slowly, he witnessed her awaking from the
curse. Her skin lightened to a healthy glow as the stone turned to
flesh. As her moss colored eyes flashed with life, she drew in a
ragged breath.

Inside the motel, she'd been fleeing the
scene and it was as if time had stood still for her. With the curse
lifted, she continued her flight, the momentum abrupt as her feet
sprinted forward; her last movement setting the pace.

He'd anticipated this would happen and braced
himself as she slammed into him. His arms came around her so she
wouldn't fall. "You are safe," he told her and closed his eyes as
he placed a kiss on top of her head. For centuries, he had wrestled
with the guilt of what happened that day Isa had killed his wife.
He'd been too late to save his sweet Callista, but he wouldn't fail
Calli. Of this, he vowed.

Calli's body relaxed into his embrace and she
just breathed. What a wonderful sound it was to hear the intake of
breath and the
whoosh
as it was being released once more.
Her heartbeat reached his ears, a
thump-thump, thump-thump
,
a little fast, but steady. She leaned back and lifted her chin to
meet his eyes.

"What…happened?" she asked, her voice raspy
and she cleared her throat. Her brow furrowed with unease.

All he wanted to do was smooth those lines of
stress and tell her everything would be all right. Instead, he
leaned down and kissed her, silencing her questions with the
caress. She didn't push him away, but wrapped her arms around him.
He inhaled the scent of her and the memory of holding his wife in
this same fashion came back to him full force, but he also knew
this was Calli, a thief who had awakened his desire to live. He
didn't want to break the connection, but he must if he were to
finish what Isa had started so long ago. He cradled Calli's head as
he whispered in her ear, "Trust me."

He let the magic roll over him and he shifted
into the Gryphon with Calli cradled in his claws. Her startled
intake of breath at the sudden change of embrace couldn't be
helped. Thankfully, she didn't struggle to be free from him, but
quickly settled and held on. Such a brave and trusting woman and
his heart swelled with his love for her.

His wings spread wide, and the wind fluttered
over his feathers with encouragement. He pushed off, his back paws
giving him the leverage he needed to take flight.

Isa screeched the sounds of her betrayal
before switching to the language of Gryphons to blast him further.
It had been so long since he heard his language spoken by another,
and wished it hadn't been used for curses and in anger. He glanced
down below where Isa stood with Bert at her side. He noticed the
other two men he'd knocked out earlier were jogging toward Isa. She
appeared to be issuing orders, her hands flying as she spoke. Then
she glanced skyward. Even from this distance, he could see fury in
her eyes as bright as the blazing sun. A second later, the shimmer
of energy surrounded her as she shifted into her Gryphon form to
pursue him.

That was his cue to go. His long wingspan
gave him the advantage and his head start even more. He kept well
ahead of Isa, but he knew she would figure out where he headed soon
enough.

Chapter Twenty

Calli's mind still felt scrambled from her
ordeal, but she managed to hang onto Darrien as he flew high above
the world below. Her teeth chattered, but she didn't think it was
because of the cold. Trauma, shock, the fact she was clutched in a
Gryphon's claws…heck, all of the above could be the cause.

She closed her eyes and let the wind blow
through her hair. A scent surrounded her, a blend of sand, spice,
and male heat. A strange combination, but she knew it to be
Darrien, no matter that he'd morphed into a Gryphon. The steady
flap of his wings lulled her too. She was safe. He would keep her
safe. The whisper of unease that teased her senses flitted away on
the wind and she relaxed, knowing he wouldn't let anything happen
to her if he could help it.

Darrien had told her how much Callista had
loved to fly with him. Now, she understood why. Despite the life
and death situation they were in, the thrill of soaring through the
air was exhilarating.

Her gaze took in the scene below and wondered
where Darrien was heading. They'd left the motel far behind and the
desert below proved a featureless black ocean with only a few
pinpricks of stars and a wan sickle moon to light the path, but
then she spotted a building in the distance. Maybe they were
heading for the museum. As if Darrien sensed her thoughts, he
veered to the left toward the building, the course proving she'd
been right.

Fast and sure, Darrien's wings took them
closer until he was above the museum. He circled around the parking
lot, then lower and lower until he hovered near the ground. She
anticipated he was going to release her and scooted forward. The
drop hadn't been far, but her limbs weren't fully recovered from
her ordeal. She stumbled, and fell to her knees, but Darrien was
there beside her in seconds. He had shifted to his human side and
reached for her, helping her to her feet.

"Are you well?" he asked with concern.

"Just peachy keen." Her father used to use
those words when he was far from all right. It was his standard
line after he had chemo. He claimed if he said he was peachy keen
enough times eventually his body would catch up to what his brain
wanted to be true.

"Does that mean you are ill? Your pallor has
turned a ghastly shade not conclusive with health.

She might have laughed, but she just didn't
have it in her. Instead she gave him a huge smile. "I'm working on
fine. Can you give me a moment?" Her mouth felt like she swallowed
sand and she licked her lips, hoping to find moisture.

"You need water," he told her.

Before she could respond, he flitted away
then returned before she could lick her lips again. He held out a
water bottle with one hand, the lid already removed, while his
other hand rested at her elbow to keep her steady. She fisted her
hands then opened them again with hopes the tingly feeling at her
fingertips would cease to plague her. Her circulation had been
hampered big time. She reached for the bottle and managed not to
drop it as she took a generous drink. The cool liquid soothed her
parched throat and worked like an elixir. She felt a surge of
energy race through her veins after each sip she took.