When a Gargoyle Lives (Gargoyles Book 2) (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Brenda put her head between her legs.  In the last ten minutes, she had learned two things.  One, it was really hard to navigate from the air.  Two, she was not a good flier.  Or at least, she was not a good flier when she wasn’t surrounded by the comforting presence of a plane.

Gracchus had not lied about not walking.

Nope, he ordered Cai to follow him, grasped Brenda and jumped up into the air like it was nothing.  When he’d managed to pry her arms from around his neck, he’d asked her where she lived and after a few wrong turns, they made it.  It was only because of her fear for Ric’s safety that she didn’t scream at him to put her down.

Brenda lifted her head, hoping that the surrounding area had stopped spinning.  Gracchus was down on all fours, sniffing the ground.  Cai was inspecting her uncle’s car, in particular, the dent that seemed to have appeared.  Crud.  That was not something that Chris could miss… a worry for later.  They had more pressing matters.

“Anything?” she asked.

Gracchus stood up to his full height.  Six-foot-ten if she was any judge – seven and a half including the wings.  He looked around him, his chest swelling as a look of disgust marred his face and his tail whipped wildly.

“There is gargoyle blood on the ground.”

Cai growled.  “Could he be dead?”

“No, or at least he was not killed here.  There is not enough blood.  He was injured, though.”

Cai sniffed the air.  “He was here, but I cannot follow his scent.”

“They will have taken him away in some kind of vehicle.  The scent of the metal beast covers everything.”

“Human technology,” jeered Cai.

Brenda was too distressed to be offended, or to point out how quickly the gargoyles had taken to technology and actually enjoyed it.  Loved it in the case of Gracchus and the TV, or Annis and the washer.

“Who could have taken him?” she asked softly.

“We don’t even really know who our enemies are anymore, child.”

“We are surrounded by enemies,” hissed Cai.

“You also have some friends,” said Brenda hotly.

Cai bared his fangs, and Gracchus snarled at him.  Cai backed down, and again Brenda was taken at how dominant Gracchus could be.  She had found Cai to be much more daunting, and yet he submitted to Gracchus in a heartbeat.

Though, she wasn’t scared of him.  Gracchus placed a huge hand on her shoulder; his claws pushed against her.  The pressure was a little reassuring.

“What can we do?” she said.

“We must talk to Luc.  We will think of something.”

“But Ric, he’s all alone.  I can’t…”  The words caught in her throat as tears threatened.

Gracchus’ hard face softened minutely.  “He’s a warrior, born and bred, child. He will survive.”

Brenda sniffled and told herself to pull it together.  “He better.”

“What if Amalric has told his captors of our existence?” asked Cai.  To Brenda’s surprise, he looked a little anxious.  But then, he had a mate and a son to think about.

“The wards on the house are still strong.  We should be safe.”

“Wards?” said Brenda.

“Spells to keep out unwanted visitors.”

“I was able to get through.”

“The wards are only supposed to warn us and keep out people who will do us harm.  It is mainly so we are safe in the day.  Come.”  He held out his arms.

“But…”

“We will find him, child.”

They had to, because, at that moment, she felt like she was being torn in two, and that wasn’t a feeling she wanted for the rest of her life.  That big idiot really had a hold of her.  If he got himself kidnapped and killed now, she’d never forgive him.

*

Chris shook his head.  He should not be doing this.  Scaling the gate was a bit drastic – particularly for a man his age who really needed more exercise - but with his niece missing, not answering her phone and no answer on the intercom, he was going to find out what the heck was going on.

The front door was locked, but he snuck – no, walked quietly – around the house and found the door to kitchen wide open.  He was not trying to break in; it was more like a visit from a friendly neighborhood cop.  Sure, that worked for him.

There were piles of laundry on the table, and someone had started chopping some carrots.  Someone had to be here.

Chris held still and listened.  He could hear someone on the phone, a female voice.  Not one he recognized, but it was soft and sweet and appealing, and he was completely struck dumb by that thought.  When was the last time he ever thought that about a woman’s voice?  Had he ever had that thought before?

He was about to call out hello.  Better he announce his presence than be found snooping.  He really was going to, but the blood-curdling roar that sounded through the house stopped him in his tracks.  He froze in the middle of the kitchen.  Were they keeping a bear in the basement?  That sounded like one hell of a bear, and it was definitely illegal to keep a bear locked up and… his thoughts sped away from him as someone hit him over the head.

*

The phone was ringing.  Annis bit her lip.  Should she answer it?  Was she allowed?  Would Luc be angry with her if she did, or if she didn’t?

Oh, if only one of the others were here.  But with Ingrede feeding the baby and Drago chained in the basement, that firmly left her in charge and she was terrified.  She was never in charge.  She kept her head down and did as she was told – just like she always had.  Behavior her clan had beaten into her over the years.

A voice told her she was being stupid and weak.  It was just a phone.  She knew how it worked.  She could answer it for heavens sake!

She was just scared, and years of being scared, of being programmed to behave a certain way were not going to disappear simply because she no longer had a sadistic chief or a mother who could barely stand to look at her.

With a surge of confidence, she grabbed the receiver and squeaked out a hello.

“We have Amalric,” said a female voice.

“Who is this?” she whispered.  “What are you talking about?”

“Come to the abandoned gas station on Freemont in eight hours or we kill him.”

The phone clicked.

“No, wait, don’t…”

Annis stared at the phone, trying to stop herself from panicking.  Oh lord, where was everyone?  What had happened to Amalric?  Clenching and unclenching her fists she walked into the kitchen and found a human she did not know, standing with his back to her.

Instinctively, she grabbed the first thing she could – which happened to be a ladle - and brought it down on his head.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ric groaned.

“Holy shit, the ugly fucker’s waking up.”

“Hurry up then, dickless, or do you wanna be trapped in here with this big-ass son of a bitch?  Took fifteen tranqs to take him down, and each of them had enough juice to down a fucking rhino.  Not to mention the fucking tasers.”

“Reckon Pike’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up.”

“Yeah, but at least he now has a scar to match the one that dumb bitch Ophelia gave him.”

Ric growled, and the men whimpered slightly before tightening his restraints and running out of the room.  His whole body ached.  He could feel where they had electrocuted him, the skin burned.

Well, at least, he wasn’t dead.  No, he was restrained by a chain to the ground in a gray room with a hard slab bench, and a huge mirror.  He forced his limbs to move – it wasn’t easy.  He had taken quite a beating.  Undoubtedly he had put down many humans in the fight, but they had been persistent, and their weapons painful.

On the plus side, they still sounded scared of him – even if he had lost the battle.  He walked around the room, as much as the chains would allow, and they certainly wouldn’t allow him to the door.

Ric peered through the mirror but could not see anything.  Suspicion and a healthy marathon of NCIS TV episodes told him that someone was behind there watching him.

Not important.

What was important was making sure Brenda was safe and getting himself the hell out of there.  He hoped that Brenda’s call had just been a ruse to lure him out.  Ric didn’t believe for one second she had been an active participant in his capture – she would never do that.  He may not know every detail of her life, but he knew her.  His heart knew her.

Lord, he was getting sappy.  Must be all those tranqs they shot him with – they were impairing his ability to think without sounding like a total dickless wuss.  Some of Maggie’s colorful words.

No, Brenda wasn’t willingly involved.  But the idea that they may have kidnapped or hurt her to get to him…  A snarl escaped his lips; his muscles quivered, and the chains creaked at the effort of containing him.

He looked at the mirror.  Whoever’s behind there should definitely be afraid.

*

Annis looked down on the large human body lying on her kitchen floor.  She dropped the ladle.

What should she do?  He hadn’t seen her yet; the knowledge of her kind was still safe from him.  But… what could she do with him?  Where was someone capable when she needed them?  What was the point of being on the bottom of the hierarchy if no one domineering was around when you needed them?

The male groaned.

Heavens.  He was still awake.

Maybe she should hit him again.  The thought was not appealing.  While gargoyles butted heads and horns like rams – especially when fighting over a female – she understood that humans were more delicate.  At least, they were if that TV show, ER was anything to go by.  She might have watched it a few times with Gracchus before he decided he preferred Columbo.  If she hit him again, she might cause him brain damage.

No, she couldn’t hurt him.  He groaned for a second time.  Or at least, she couldn’t hurt him again.

She would tie him up, and wait for Luc to come home.  He would deal with the male.  Oh, why hadn’t their alarm gone off?  Why was she put in this position?

Shaking off her whines, she grabbed a kitchen chair and found some rope – they had a healthy supply in case they needed to restrain any new gargoyles.  They tended to be angry and disoriented when they woke.  She wasn’t.  She just curled into a ball like a timid little kitten.  Why change the habit of a lifetime she thought wearily.

She pulled him onto the chair, panting with the effort.  She wasn’t a strong gargoyle, and he was large for a human male, and heavy.  He was slimmer than gargoyle males but still muscled and taller than her small frame.

Annis found herself inspecting every inch of him.  His dark eyes were framed by long lashes; his nose was straight and his lips full.  Annis ran a talon down his cheek, ending on his stubbly, square jaw.  He was handsome by human standards.  Of that she was sure.  Or by any standards really.  Maybe he came there by accident; maybe he did not mean them any harm.  Maybe he should just be allowed to leave.

What on earth was she doing?

He was a human and with some distaste, she noticed he had one of those human weapons strapped to his hip.  Gingerly, she picked up the gun, afraid of what it would do.  She had seen Gracchus’ TV shows; she knew what these things were capable of.  Unsure of what else to do, she put it in the refrigerator.  Out of harms way.

He had come to hurt her clan, maybe to take them away, to test them, to cut them open… Luc thought she did not listen, but she knew about his worries.  There were humans who would be fascinated by the gargoyles, who would want to know about their insides, of what made them tick.  No, she couldn’t let that happen.

She was a gargoyle; she had to defend her clan.  She looked down at the stirring male.  If she were a real gargoyle, she would kill him.

Protect the clan.

But no, she couldn’t.  She had never killed anything in her life.  She had never even wielded a weapon.  She had shamed her mother by being weak and deformed; she would not shame her with pitiful displays of weaponry.

No, Annis was not able to really hurt anyone.  But she could not allow this male simply to get up and hurt her or worse, the youngling and Ingrede or even Dragoslava.

His eyelids fluttered open, and she froze to the spot.  He looked at her in surprise for a few moments before his mouth gaped.  His eyes roamed over her body and Annis felt a pang of self-consciousness.  She should have brushed her hair, or worn her purple dress, the one that matched the lavender of her eyes.  She must look a state.  Her thoughts had taken an odd direction.

“What are you?” he asked, wondrously.

Annis tried to smile, although it was probably more of a grimace.  “It is a long story.”

He looked around the room, tugged at his bonds and then scowled.  “Where is my niece?”

“You are Brenda’s uncle?”  The one Maggie called Chief Tight Pants.

“Yes,” he said gruffly.  “Where is she?”

“She is fine; she will be back soon.”

His eyes narrowed, and he gave her a hard look that made her shiver.  In her experience, human males were not dominant.  This one was.  “What’s going on?”

“It is complicated.  Would you like some water?”

He cocked his head to one side.  “Okay.”

Annis filled a glass and with shaking hands pressed it to his lips.  He looked into her eyes as he drank, and then as she pulled the glass away, he leaped at her, knocking the glass out of her hand and pinning her to the ground.  The ropes she had bound him with floated to the ground.  Hell, she should have made them tighter, but she was afraid of hurting him.

She screamed and snarled at him and tried to ruffle her useless wings beneath her.  She was stronger than a human female, but this male was bigger and stronger than her.

“You didn’t tie the ropes very well,” he said softly.

Her heart pounded as his large body pressed against hers.  He took her wrists and dragged them over her head, holding her down, keeping her at his mercy.

Some conflicting thoughts and emotions battled for space in Annis’ head.  One of them being that she had never been so close to a male before.  His touch, his nearness was almost intimate.

She lowered her eyes.  “I am sorry; I was scared.  You may do as you wish to me, but please do not hurt the others.”

“You gave in pretty quick for someone who was clobbering me with a… what was it?”

“A ladle.”

“Jeez, taken down by a ladle – I must be getting old.”

“I’m expendable,” she whispered.  “The others are not.”

“Damn, lady, I don’t know what the hell you are, but you’ve got some real problems.”

Annis frowned.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but right now, all I care about is making sure my niece is safe.”

“Brenda is a wonderful female, strong and courageous.  She will be okay.  I promise you that.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Annis.”

“I’m Chris, and I…”

“Annis?” growled a deep, tortured voice.

Annis gasped as Dragoslava came into the kitchen, his massive frame filling it completely.

Chris gaped at the sight of the huge male, chains that had once been attached to the floor of the basement hung from his wrists, clunking along behind him.  Annis imagined she, a female with dark pink skin, purple eyes and small wings was an unusual sight to a human.  Dragoslava must have been terrifying.

“Drago, please, it is okay,” she said hurriedly

“Hurt Annis?” he rasped, his wild eyes boring into Chris.

“No, Drago, he didn’t… no, Drago, don’t!”