Gryphon and His Thief (20 page)

As she indulged, she couldn't help but think
about what had happened. Isa had been stronger than she imagined,
more powerful and dangerous. The woman was a Gryphon, but she also
had a few lethal tricks and she couldn't say she looked forward to
an encore. She remembered there had been a wizard and an angel in
her office. Made her wonder if they had fallen victim to Isa's
wrath and she turned them to stone. It would account for why she
thought the statues had seemed creepy in some way, not quite right.
Maybe she had sensed their souls trapped inside the marble.

"I am sorry." Darrien said.

"You're sorry? You have nothing to be sorry
about. That witch with a capital B is the one who will be sorry.
She turned me to stone!" She ran a hand over her face and inhaled
deeply. Glad she could manage such a simple act as breathing.

"She will pay for what she has done—past and
present offences. You mark my words." His eyes shifted to the
eagle-like blink before returning to his more human look. His eyes
were unusual no matter what, but when they glowed and the irises
turned a different shape, it brought home the fact he was not
entirely human.

He still held onto her elbow. Probably
because he feared she would tumble to the ground, but already she
could feel her toes again, and her energy returning to full
strength. Water truly did replenish. She vowed from this day
forward, she'd keep extra water bottles on hand.

Darrien shifted his position so he stood in
front of her. His fingers smoothed her hair from her face. His gaze
held such longing it made her legs feel like wet noodles all over
again, and she gripped his forearms to keep from falling. In truth,
she was already falling—in love, that is—with this wonderfully
honorable shifter.

"You truly are beautiful, all windblown and
determined," he told her. "You are so very brave, Calli Angelis. I
bless the stars that you walked into my museum to commit
thievery."

Her lips twitched into a smile. "You do know
how to dazzle a girl with sweet talk."

He looked confused, but then he chuckled. "I
have not wooed a woman in a long time."

She sighed. "Funny thing is, I kind of like
how you're wooing."

"Brave, beautiful, and most forgiving…" He
cupped her face and leaned down to press his lips to hers.

They were moments away from Isa's wrath, yet
she couldn't help but take what Darrien offered. Who knew if they
would ever get another chance? If Isa had her way, she and Darrien
would be bookends at her office, or maybe she'd put them next to
the wizard and the angel statue.

As his kiss demanded more of her attention,
the near emptied water bottle slipped from her fingers so she could
hold onto Darrien. He tasted dark and dangerous— everything she
needed right now. She closed her eyes and savored the exquisite
caress. He half growled half chuckled as he pulled her closer. His
calloused hands were rough on her cheek, but she didn't mind. The
intensity and the immediacy of attraction she felt for him
mystified her, and yet with stolen moments like this, she felt
she'd finally come home.

He ended the kiss sooner than she would have
liked, and when he pulled away, she teetered forward as if he were
her lifeline to the oxygen she needed. Her skin felt warm and
tingly. It could be the effects of being turned to stone or it
could be Darrien's kisses playing havoc with her libido. She had a
hunch it was the latter.

"Isa will be upon us in a moment," he warned
her. "She will pick up my scent soon enough. Please go inside the
museum. You shall be safe there."

She'd been turned to stone and her limbs
hadn't fully recovered, leaving her feeling as if she wore
lead-lined boots and weights on her wrists, but she wasn't going to
hide in the museum and leave him out here to face Isa.

"Are you all right?" Tender concern laced his
words and she realized she hadn't said anything about his request.
He shifted his gaze skyward as if he expected Isa to dive down and
attack. She still might.

"You'll be safe inside the museum too." Her
hand snaked out and tugged on his sleeve. His gaze riveted to her.
"She can't enter the building," she said. "It's warded against
preternatural creatures—at least ones that aren't cursed," she
corrected her claim. "You can easily hold off her men from inside
if they decide to join her."

"I will not hide." He straightened his back
and stood taller. "I must end this once and for all. Isa will not
stop until she has her way. She does not care who she must harm to
achieve the goal. We have but one chance." He pulled out Hecate's
Stone from the pouch attached at his belt. He was about to hand it
to her so she could put in a safe place in the museum, but the
stone started to glow and throb with energy. No longer did it
appear black, but all shades of the rainbow pulsed inside of it,
the color changing with each pulse. The air around them became
thicker and a wind picked up ruffling their hair as if the stone
commanded it.

"What's it doing?" she shouted. Each pulse of
the stone increased the momentum of the wind, and dust blew from
the desert floor, making it difficult to breathe.

"I don't know," he shouted back as the stone
burst with energy like a bolt of lightning streaking across the
sky.

An area large and oval took shape a few feet
in front of them. It rippled like water, the effect similar to
skipping rocks across a lake. When it smoothed, they could see
another world, though the parking lot remained all around it on
either side. It was like looking through a portal on a ship, but
much larger, generous enough for Darrien to step through without
hunching down.

In the other world, blue, purple, and gold
colored the sky as if the sun had just set and all the colors bled
into the horizon where the land met the sky. A river dark and
foreboding reached the portal's edge, but didn't flow over to their
world. Instead, the water teased by rising and falling as it
attempted to cross, but a barrier of some sort held it at bay.

"The veil between the worlds has been
revealed to us," Darrien said, his voice thick with emotion.

Chapter Twenty-One

Darrien glanced at the stone glowing, pulsing
with energy, and knew it had somehow triggered the doorway to the
Otherworld to reveal itself. The veil was at its thinnest on
Halloween, the day the humans celebrated with parties and costumes.
They'd forgotten that tonight they could communicate with the
dead.

Hecate's Stone amplified where the boundaries
rested, making the Otherworld visible to anyone who might happen
by, be they mortal or not. They didn't have to believe to see it.
The portal stood, both beautiful and frightening for all to
view.

He turned to Calli and shouted over the
roaring wind to be heard. "There was blood on the stone when I
found it on the desk in the museum. Whose was it?" he asked, but he
had a hunch he already knew.

She shouted back, her words coming to him as
if she stood on a precipice high above him, her voice strained and
faraway. "It has to be your blood… from your human side. I gave the
stone to you for safekeeping, but one of Isa's men shot you."

"My alter ego left me such a message on your
mobile," he grumbled and rubbed his chest, though the bullet wound
had healed completely now.

"He did?" she asked, appearing surprised, and
he realized she would be. She'd already been kidnapped and hadn't
known his other half's outcome.

He nodded. "An interesting conversation, I
must say. It is how I knew you were in trouble." He glanced at the
portal where the river appeared dark and foreboding. He could see
movement beneath the surface— arms outstretched and faces contorted
as if in pain. The souls of the lost, he imagined with a
shudder.

"You can command the dead, can't you?" she
asked him, and she too stared at the portal with meaning. "You can
control what's happening right now. It's your blood that activated
the doorway to open. You can request an audience with Spiro. He
can't still hold a grudge against you. It's been centuries."

The last memory of Spiro had been when he'd
been chained in the cellar and awaited his sentencing. Spiro
tortured him further with his plans to kill his tribe, and even
promised not to spare the children. No amount of begging could
convince Spiro to go after the one responsible. Isa had acted
alone, but by then Spiro's grief had festered into hatred, and
there was no reasoning with the man.

It wasn't until decades later, and by a mere
chance, he learned what had happened once Spiro gave the order to
annihilate his tribe. A thief had entered the museum when it still
had been stationed in Greece. The man knew of the Gryphon tribe
which once lived on the isle of Andros, and that the tribe no
longer existed. He'd been devastated by the news, and yet he had
not been surprised. He had sensed the tribe no longer existed, felt
it in his heart, but now the thief had confirmed it. For the
valuable information, he allowed the thief to walk away
unharmed.

Spiro had cursed him and had gone after his
tribe without mercy. The man's hatred ran deep, and he could not be
sure it didn't follow him into the afterlife.

Calli placed a hand on his arm. "You must
try," she said as if sensing his lack of confidence.

He brushed a tendril of hair away from her
face, but it fell over one eye again as if the wind would not allow
the gesture.

She was right. He had to at least make an
attempt to reason with Spiro, and if he would not hear his plea, or
if the price proved too high, he would close the veil and so be
it.

Conjuring and opening a portal always came
with a price. Before leaving the museum tonight, he pocketed a few
ancient coins from the bottom drawer of the desk as his daytime
self suggested he do in his video. The ferryman would demand
payment for carting a soul back and forth. His hand slipped into
his front pocket of his jeans and fingered the etched coins for
reassurance he still had them. He hoped the coins would
suffice.

He turned to tell Calli of his plans, but he
caught sight of a shadow overhead, fast and true as it darted
across the heavens. Isa had found them.

She landed with grace and shifted to her
human form as soon as her paws hit the ground. Her gaze wasn't
focused on them, but transfixed on the portal between the worlds.
Since her arrival, the river of souls beckoned and keened, somehow
louder and more desperate to be heard.

"What are you waiting for?" Isa turned to
peer at him. "Summon Spiro and request he reverse the curse," she
ordered. "You hold the power in your hands, Darrien. The ferryman
must obey you." Isa's eyes were golden in color and more bird-like,
and her hands had shifted to talons as if her human side proved
difficult to hold.

Gryphons lived long lives, but they were not
immortal. Yet Isa had lived centuries longer than any Gryphon in
the history of his tribe. Of course, he was excluded. The curse was
to blame for his long existence. "How do you still live, Isa?" he
asked with a tilt of his head. Confusion lit her features before
she realized why he would ask such a question.

Her talons retracted and her slender hands
appeared as she smoothed back her hair in a desperate attempt to
keep it out of her eyes, but the wind fought her attempts. "There
are ways. Magic can be bought and so can immortality."

"And did these individuals you brokered a
deal with live to tell the tale?" He knew what happened to the
wizard who once owned a certain ring on her finger.

Isa pursed her lips and her silence gave him
the answer. She stole, most likely murdered, and took what she
wanted. She didn't look back or feel remorse. "I did it for you,"
she said as if she read his mind and knew he judged her for the
immoral acts she'd committed.

His brows rose, not because he was surprised
at her admission, but because he could not believe she had the
audacity to claim she did her evil deeds in his name. Isa's
obsession for him ruled her thoughts and actions, and in the
process she'd forgotten what it meant to truly love someone. Her
heart had hardened as if it were made of stone.

"Summoning Charon comes with a price, Isa,"
he said. Charon ferried the souls to the underworld and he would
not like to be ordered around. Of this, he was certain.

Isa glanced at Calli briefly with a nod. "She
is pure of heart. She will not suffer. Save yourself, Darrien. It's
your only chance to be free. Take it. Offer her to Charon as
payment. He will gladly take a good soul."

Before he could comment, the sounds of tires
screeching as they skidded to a halt could be heard over the
howling wind. Isa's men had arrived by car. No doubt, they'd seen
the light Hecate's Stone had produced.

He dare not take his eyes off Isa as the
doors of the car slammed shut. The unmistakable crunching of boots
on gravel reached his ears next, indicating they were running
toward them.

Isa kept her eyes on him also, but she held
up her hand in a wave of warning for her men to stand down. "Well?
What are you going to do?" she asked.

He wanted to laugh at her. Truly, she didn't
believe he'd sacrifice Calli for his freedom, but Isa's eyes
brightened with triumph. She thought he would do it. After all, it
would be what she would do. What she had planned to do, if the
stone rested in her palm.

Darrien shook his head sadly and turned away
from Isa. His gaze found Calli, who stood straight and proud. No
fear marred her expression, and for a split second, he saw his
Callista's eyes gazing back at him. He swallowed the lump in his
throat and blinked. Calli stood there once more.

He mouthed,
Trust me
, and hoped she
would. She gave him a slight nod of understanding. He turned away
from her then and stepped forward with the stone gripped in his
hand as he held it in front of him. "I call upon Charon to deliver
the soul of Spiro to the doors between worlds. I have the stone
with the power of the goddess Hecate, her essence is in the palm of
my hand, and my blood summons thee."