Trouble with Gargoyles: an Urban Fantasy (Moonlight Dragon Book 3) (14 page)

My eyes burned with tears of pride and sorrow. I wish I could have told her how awesome I thought she was. I wish I could have seen her dragon in the flesh, just once.

"It is complete." Echinacious stepped up to the canvas to admire it. "A significant moment, I believe."

It was an understatement and a half. There in a gilded frame sat a precious second before my parents were murdered.

Vale turned to me, his dark eyes like bottomless wells of empathy. "I wanted you to see what I saw that night. I wanted you to know what she was like."

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice ragged. I wiped at the moisture on my face and then repeated, "Thank you." I threw my arms around his shoulders.

He held me against him and rubbed my back. He might have a problem with keeping too many secrets, but I would forgive him a lot for having done this. Only someone who truly cared would have bothered. Only someone who loved me.

"Your mother was magnificent, Moody, and so are you. I need you to believe that. I need you to
understand
that. Vagasso was afraid of your mother and he's afraid of you, too. You and Lucky are a force to be reckoned with."

I didn't care about being a "force to be reckoned with" but it was apparent that Vale wanted me to believe that. He had an agenda here, but I didn't resent him for it. I wanted to know what it was.

I pulled away from him and dashed away the last of my tears. "What other memory did you want me to see?"

Echinacious removed the completed memory and set it carefully against a wall. He then placed another blank, framed canvas on the easel.

"This is another memory I carry of your mother." Vale's brow creased, as though he wasn't as sure about the value or rightness of showing me this particular scene. "It will surprise you, but it is the truth as I saw it."

"You've got me worried," I quipped weakly.

"It will be alright." Vale's dark eyes compelled me to trust him.

We placed our hands side by side on the focus again. I pulled my sorcery and fed it through my fingertips. As colors began to appear on the canvas, my palms grew moist. Why did Vale think this would affect me? Was it a bad memory? Would it make me grow angry with my mother, or worse, disappointed?

This time it took a lot longer for me to identify what I saw. I didn't recognize the setting, for one thing. It appeared to be indoors, for I could see walls covered with green striped wallpaper. I didn't know of any place with walls like that. Shapes began to emerge that materialized into animals: cats, dogs, a mountain lion and a pair of wolves. They were shifters, but there were people there as well in human form. All in all, it appeared to be a gathering of a couple dozen shifters in various forms of transformation, much like Melanie and I had encountered in the Keyhole. But this wasn't the Keyhole and there was another significant difference. The focus of this memory was a woman.

A woman who looked just like my mom.

She was smiling and shaking the hand of a man who looked like Kleure in his human form. Kleure was grinning his dog grin, and he looked genuinely happy. They both did, as though they were meeting for the first time.

"This was the night your mother agreed to join forces with Kleure," Vale said quietly. "Their plan was to overthrow the Oddsmakers."

As I stood there in stunned silence, I heard Vale ask Echinacious, "This room is protected, yes?"

"The wards are impenetrable by anyone. Even them."

Them being the Oddsmakers, the magickal bosses who ruled over the city and over all of us. The powerful forces that had the ability to reduce Kleure to nothing but hair and skin and agony. The beings that my mom had been working against, according to Vale.

"Iris and Jacob Moody were double agents," he said as I continued to stare at the memory stain. "They worked for the Oddsmakers while working against them from the inside."

I hugged myself. "That's—that's kind of incredible."

"On this night—" Vale pointed at the canvas, "—Kleure recruited your mother to side with those in Vegas who oppose their rule. It was a dangerous decision to make. You were only a year old at the time. If anything went badly, both of your parents would have been held accountable. They knew this, yet they still agreed to fight."

"Because they knew how horrible the Oddsmakers are," I breathed. "They must have seen it, also."

Vale stepped into my line of sight, his brow furrowed. "Something happened, didn't it? You mentioned violence before...Moody, tell me."

I pointed beyond him, at the canvas. "Kleure is dead. They killed him. I watched them do it."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I went to the Keyhole to try to learn what had attacked Diana. Kleure and other shifters were there. They accused me of being the champion of the Oddsmakers. He called me a traitor." I swallowed hard. "That's when the Oddsmakers snatched us up. Melanie was there, too, but I don't think she saw the whole thing—what they did to him. They said it was a message so magickal beings would stop resisting them and planning uprisings." I shook my head vehemently, trying to fling the memories out of my head. "I disliked them before, but after that, I hate them, Vale. I
hate
them."

"Then maybe this won't be as difficult a decision as I had feared," he murmured, looking away. The decision to tell me seemed to have weighed heavily on him. I could tell he still had his doubts.

"I'm not afraid of them," I told him fiercely. "Not in the beginning and definitely not now."

"But you should be," he said sharply. "There's a reason they've been in control since the city's inception. They're everywhere and they're all but omnipotent."

"My mom and dad didn't seem to think so. They partnered with Kleure because they must have thought they had a chance."

Vale's expression turned pained. "Or, they underestimated what they were up against."

I heard the sliding panel open. Light spilled inside for a moment before darkness enclosed us again. Echinacious had left to grant us our privacy. Or maybe he didn't want to be party to a treasonous conversation should the Oddsmakers come calling.

"Xaran is angry because I didn't tell you this from the beginning, but there's a reason I held back," Vale said. "I wanted to be sure that this was something you could handle, that you had the guts for it. That's been answered without question. But I still held back because this is dangerous, Moody. It's deadly. You already saw what happened to Kleure, one of the most influential magickal beings in the city. The Oddsmakers don't care that word will get out. They want it to. They want us all to know how brutal they can be. That's something to think about in a serious way. There are no repercussions for anything they do. There is no higher power to punish them."

"Then don't you think that should change?"

Passion was bubbling inside my veins. I knew this was something I had to do no matter how much Vale tried to talk me out of it. I'd resented the Oddsmakers from the beginning for being bullies. It turned out they were the
ultimate
bullies, and there was only one recourse for me when faced with that. I had to knock them down and protect the rest of us.

"Xaran first recruited my mom, didn't he?" I asked Vale. "My uncle wrote about a creature arriving in Las Vegas when I was a year old, something that no one could get a proper look at. The Oddsmakers wanted her to capture it. But she later told my uncle that she'd dealt with it." I pointed at the canvas again. "Then she's meeting with Kleure and agreeing to partner with him that same year."

"Yes, it was my brother. He'd heard rumors of the Oddsmakers employing a dragon sorceress to keep the city in line. He wanted to learn how deep her loyalty ran."

"Then Xaran already had plans to overthrow them. Why? This isn't his home. What does it matter to him what happens in Vegas?"

"Because he'd also heard another rumor, about a dark entity that was moving across the United States with ambition to rule the land and eventually the world. The rumors Xaran heard suggested that this entity might find a warmer welcome here than he'd found elsewhere."

I couldn't believe it. "You're telling me Vagasso struck some kind of deal with the Oddsmakers?"

Vale just held my gaze. "What do you think?"

I think it made too much sense. Vagasso had been running free in Vegas when he should have been stopped long ago. Why hadn't he suffered punishment for trying to summon a demon? And what about the Oddsmakers warning me not to go after him? I'd assumed—hoped—that had meant that the Oddsmakers intended to take care of him themselves. But maybe I'd been too optimistic. Too trusting.

A sickening thought suddenly occurred to me. "What if the Oddsmakers had learned that my parents were double agents?"

Vale said nothing. I could tell, though, that he wanted to and was letting me feel my way to the truth.

"They wouldn't have let it go, Vale. They would have wanted to punish my parents. And if the Oddsmakers
were
in partnership with Vagasso..." I had to take a deep breath when black spots floated across my vision. "They could have sent him to kill them that night so they could claim they had nothing to do with it. Maybe Vagasso lured Dearborn in, knowing his involvement further muddied the crime. Fingers would point everywhere but at the Oddsmakers."

"I couldn't see what happened that night," Vale admitted. "I regret that."

"It wasn't your fault." I glanced at the first memory stain photo and at the odd obfuscation that blurred my parents' car. "I'm thinking there was a reason for it: to conceal the truth."

I wanted to throw up. I also wanted to blast the entire desert near Area 51 and flush the Oddsmakers out of their hidey hole.

"Or, they could have had nothing to do with it," Vale warned somberly. "Xaran and the others would state unequivocally that Vagasso and the Oddsmakers are in league, but they would be only guessing, hoping to rile you into joining their cause. I care too much about you to deceive you that way, Moody. There's a good chance Vagasso and Dearborn are the only ones responsible for your parents' deaths."

"The best thing to do is find out for sure, right?" My smile wasn't a nice one. I wasn't in a nice mood. "I'm not easily led, Vale. I want to listen to what your brother has to say but I'm not blindly following anyone."

He took my hand. His was large and warm. It felt nothing like the claw that had saved me from a midair fall. But the gargoyle was Vale, too, and everything he'd done since long before I was born made up who he was. The alliances he'd made, the deals he'd struck. His relationship with Xaran and with the Oddsmakers, too. I couldn't blindly follow Xaran, but that applied to Vale, too, until I could get the complete picture.

"When they kidnapped you and tortured you," I said to him, searching his eyes, "did it have something to do with this, or were you telling the truth when you said they wanted to make you look pathetic so I'd help them?"

His frown all but dripped with guilt. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Moody. It was your first encounter with them. I didn't think it was the right time to tell you my suspicions. It would have altered how you interacted with them and they might have sensed your attitude. Yes, they tortured me to try to find out if I share the same sentiments as my brother. They wanted to know if I would be a threat to them. I lied to them as best I could. I don't know if they believed me. Maybe I did well enough, since they decided to use me to try to force your hand. They were desperate for you."

"They seem to have a thing for dragons," I muttered. "My uncle went to see them before he went missing. I've recently learned that he was a dragon sorcerer, not a warlock. They might have tried to recruit him, and I know how that would have went. He didn't trust them. He wouldn't have gone along. That may explain why he's missing, and why they want me. They could be hoping I'll be what my mother wasn't: their dragon for hire."

My head was swimming.

"Let's go out for a bit," I said.

Echinacious waited for us in the main gallery, beside the busts.

"Everything alright?" he inquired with a smile.

"Thank you, yes. May we keep our paintings here? Until I find a safe place for them?"

"Of course. I also have private galleries—vaults, if you will—available for rent, if you choose."

"I think that sounds better than me trying to hide them. Thank you."

I hovered awkwardly, unsure how we were supposed to submit payment. Vale took charge of that.

"I owe you two favors," he said to the goblin. "I'm at your service."

"And I will call on you in time for payment. Mr. Gargoyle, is it?"

Vale suppressed a smile. "Vale will suffice."

"A lucky guess on the first try. Fortune's on my side."

Echinacious' comments sent unease crawling over my skin. Things were about to change in a big way, and the stakes couldn't be higher or the odds lower.

"What are the other busts for?" I asked, nodding at the plaster Julius Caesar and the Medusa head.

"The Gallery of Veritatis offers additional services for those seeking artwork of a more aggressive nature," Echinacious replied coyly.

"Cursed artwork?"

"I prefer to refer to them as relief valves."

It wasn't a stretch to assume the English picnic painting that was in my shop, the one in which an axe murderer hacked up a family of picnickers in a never-ending loop, had originated here. How many other "relief valve" paintings existed in Las Vegas, each depicting an unsavory or perhaps frightening scene? Death and dismemberment over the dinner table? Stalking and stabbing in a tastefully appointed den? Truthfully, I hoped I never found out how many homicidal maniacs had commissioned pieces.

"You said that the room in there is protected, that the Oddsmakers can't see what goes on in there. Why do they permit such a thing?" My mind was buzzing with possibilities.

"I have been here a very long time," Echinacious replied enigmatically, "and I have developed a trustworthy reputation. My request for a room where magickal beings may expose their deepest, darkest, and most personal memories in private isn't much of a threat, don't you think? We are only creating art here, after all."

"So if, say, I'd like to create a group memory stain with my friends...would that be possible?"

The goblin smiled and winked. "Your business is most welcome here, Anne."

~~~~~

"All our friends and your brother need to be on the same page, because even though I intend to keep everyone mostly out of this, they need to know. There may be fallout, however much I try to prevent that."

"I don't disagree. But, Moody—" Vale stepped close to me even though we were the only two people in the dark, protected room so far, "—don't let Xaran talk you into anything. He may use guilt, coercion, threats—he'll do anything to convince you to join our side. He knows how valuable you are."

"Puh-lease," I drawled. "If you think your biker wannabe brother can talk me into doing anything I don't want to do you've got a thing or two still to learn about me."

Vale shook his head but I could see that he was smiling. "I'm learning. And I'm liking every minute of it, trust me."

"Oh, Vale," I sighed. "One of these days we're going to have to role-play professor and student."

Before either of us could act on the gleam that came to his eye, Melanie burst into the room like a comet.

"Anne, what's going on?!"

"We've got some serious business to discuss, Melly. But it has to wait until everyone is here."

"Okay, so what—whoa! Who is
that
?"

I knew whom she meant before I'd turned to look. Xaran sauntered into the dark room, his thumbs hooked in the loops of his jeans. He wore smug like it was just another fashion accessory. Thank goodness Vale wasn't anything like him.

"I take it the cat's out of the bag?" He winked at Melanie. "Hello, little monkey."

Melanie sidled up to me, but I could tell she was intrigued. "Who are you? You remind me of—"

"He's my brother," Vale said as though he were admitting to an incontinence problem. "Xaran, this is Melanie."

"I know the whole gang, Vale. I've been watching them for a while."

Xaran's comment sealed my suspicion that he'd been popping in and out of Vegas since the year my uncle first mentioned him in the journal. Xaran had a vested interest in what happened to Las Vegas. Why? Just a good guy in general, fighting evil around the world? Or did he have yet another agenda?